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soaps-mohawk · 2 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 31: Forced Proximity

Summary: John and Kyle are gone. You have no choice but to lean on the alpha you've betrayed, the alpha that hates you.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 11,071 words

Warnings: ANGST, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, anxiety, reader has a panic attack and several breakdowns, Simon being mean, ANGST, depression, lots of mentions of vomiting and the reader does get sick quite a bit though it's not descriptive in any way, ANGST, heat cycles, pseudoscience, medical stuff (that's probably very wrong), brief mention of needles, medical procedures (nothing very detailed), ANGST, very heavy emotionally again, some very light fluff like barely there but nothing compared to the ANGST

A/N: I did it. I finally got it up. It's uh...it's a heavy one again, I'll tell you that much. You'll hate me even more but oh well. I expected that through this part of the story. I'm so evil I know.

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“I don't like this. It's too...”

“Convenient?”

“Suspicious.”

“I know. But we don't have much of a choice in this.” John says, staring at Simon and Johnny. “You keep your eyes on her at all times. Stay in the barracks when you can. If you have to leave the barracks together, she goes with you.”

“We won't let her out of our sight.” Simon says. “If anything happens, Kate will be the first to know.”

“Good.” John says. He trusts the two of them to look after you. Yet he can't deny the timing of this is a bit suspicious. “We'll be back as soon as we can. Take good care of our girl.”

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since John and Kyle left.

Despite the fact it’s not the longest someone has been gone, it doesn’t ease the ache in your chest, the pain slowly carving its way into your very soul. You haven’t spoken to them. There’s been no word. Nothing. It could be a good thing. Sometimes no news is good news, and you suppose it’s better than a phone call saying they’ve died in some horrible accident.

You keep waiting for that phone call.

Every time Johnny or Simon’s phone rings, you begin to panic, fear eating away at that hole in your chest. It’s bad news, it’s Kate calling to tell them your alpha and beta aren’t coming home.

You’ve hardly been able to relax, tense and jumpy at the littlest things. Being enclosed in the barracks at all times isn’t helping. You haven’t left once, not even to the med center. Dr. Keller has been coming to the barracks, more than she normally would for your appointments. You wonder if it was Johnny’s doing to try and help you relax, or Simon’s doing in hope you stop stinking up the barracks with the sour scent of nerves and fear.

Simon has been distant still, avoiding you as much as he can. It’s impossible to avoid you completely, though, as Johnny can’t watch you 24/7. It’s a bit claustrophobic, the way they hover, always keeping one eye on you. It’s been a bit suffocating for the last three weeks, but with John and Kyle gone...it’s almost worse.

Johnny has tried to fill that void, tried to support you in any way he can, but it hasn’t worked. You know it’s Johnny, you love Johnny, yet not even he can fill the void that has become your life without your alpha.

You hate it.

You hate their job, you hate that it takes them from you. You hate the uncertainty, the constant fear and worry that makes you sick. You hate that it’s dragged you into it. You know they were digging for the perpetrator of the cameras, who put them up, who ordered them to be put up, who potentially wanted to look into your personal life in such a violating way. The sudden deployment feels too suspicious, too sudden to be coincidence.

But as John says, entertaining conspiracies won’t get you anywhere.

Still...it smells fishy to you.

The hole in your chest has left you in a constant state of uneasiness which has left you on the verge of tears constantly. Every day that passes without word of a tragedy or that they’re coming home makes your stomach churn, tears constantly brimming in your eyes. John’s shirt is constantly in your grasp, a dirty one you’d fished out of the bottom of his laundry basket, soaked in his scent. It’s beginning to fade, slowly eroding away until there won’t be anything left. Then you’ll grab another and another until you have none left. His room still smells like him, his pillows still fresh with his scent.

You know it will fade, though, and fade fast.

You’ve been avoiding spending too much time in his room and Kyle’s in favor of keeping their scents in there as long as possible. The fading of their scents is like an omen, marking a fading of their presence in your life, of the bond between you. The constant fear that you’ll forget them, what they sound like, what they smell like, what they look like.

It makes you physically ill.

That painful churning in your stomach is back as you sit on the couch in the rec room, curled up as far from Simon as you can get. Simon is still angry at you, at your betrayal of his trust. So much progress down the drain because you proved you’re not trustworthy after he trusted you enough to begin opening up. You still hate yourself for it, for keeping the secret for that long. Even a month would have been better and would have had less consequences for everyone. Maybe then you might have caught the camera in the bear sooner, and not been so violated during some of your most private moments.

Some of those moments with Simon.

How violated does he feel, having such vulnerable moments between you recorded and viewed by someone out there? You can’t help but think back to that night when he came back, and the morning after. Someone watched you. The bear had been right there, those black beady eyes staring right at the two of you. How many times had you fucked the others in your bed, the bear sitting there, watching, projecting those moments to whoever was on the other side.

Your heat.

The bear hadn’t been looking then, but it had been listening. It knows what happened, every last detail, every slam of the bed against the wall, every knot.

It makes you sick.

Your stomach churns, your arms wrapping around your middle as you let out a shaky breath. You’re going to puke again, the bile rising in your throat. The intense tingling in your hands is starting again, your fingers curling in as your extremities begin to go numb. You’re panicking again.

Instead of vomit, a choked sob leaves your lips, your tears hot and burning on your cheeks, stinging like they’re composed of acid.

Simon glances up from his phone, his face the mask of indifference that it has been for three weeks. A mask that he had worn for the first few months after your arrival. “What?” He asks, his tone flat and voice rough.

You can’t answer him, too busy hyperventilating and sobbing where you sit. You can’t even think if you wanted to, your body aching as your muscles begin to tighten. You can’t distress. You’ve been fighting the urge since the day the truth came out.

You can’t trust Simon to help you.

You’re not even sure he knows how to.

Of course, it would be easy to call Dr. Keller, get her to help him, but you’re not sure he’d want to. Could he be so angry and betrayed he’d just stand there and watch you distress yourself to death?

He wouldn’t. He’d have to explain himself to John, why he let it happen. It would tear the pack apart. It would tear them apart. You wouldn’t put it past John to try and rip Simon’s throat out with his teeth in anger. It would be a bigger betrayal than yours, and Simon wouldn’t let you lose your spot at the top of that list.

“Fuck.” Simon breathes, setting his phone down before moving in front of you. He lowers himself onto one knee, reaching for your arms. If you had been more aware you might have flinched away, but the lack of oxygen to your brain is making everything fuzzy.

Simon grips your elbows, tugging you forward gently. Your legs are forced off the edge of the couch, your body upright as Simon holds your arms in his grasp, your legs between his as he kneels in front of you. You stare down at him, the sudden change in position shocking you for a moment. You choke around another sob, eyes blurry as you try to look at him.

“I need you to breathe.” He says, squeezing your arms gently.

You can’t.

Your breaths are sobs, wracking your body, tearing at your lungs. Your chest hurts, aching and burning as you quickly begin spiraling out of control.

“Look at me.” He says, shifting his hold to your wrists, taking them into one hand before he grabs your chin with the other. He keeps your head still, locked on his face. His eyes are blurry to your own teary ones as you look right at him, looking through the mass of blurry black that surrounds him. “Breathe.” He says, his voice rougher than normal, rumbling with the command of his alpha around the edges.

It goes straight to your head, a shiver running down your spine. Your body shudders in response, your next sob catching painfully in your throat. You cough, lungs spasming as your body suddenly begins to follow his order automatically. Simon lets you go as you attempt to gain control over your out of control body. One part of your brain is still panicking, still pushing towards distress while the other fights to follow the alpha’s command. It’s a battle, your instincts at war with each other.

The next inhale is a gasp, inhaling until your breath stutters and your lungs ache. You let it out slowly, the flood of oxygen making you shake in Simon’s hold. He keeps his hand around your wrists until your inhales stop stuttering and your muscles start to relax.

He slowly releases you, pushing himself up to sit on the coffee table. You’re surprised it can hold so much weight after it’s been sat on so many times. Not even a creak as Simon lowers himself onto it.

He rests his elbows on his knees as he stares at you. His figure begins to get clearer as your tears slow, no longer blurring your vision. You're expecting the sharp sting of his harsh gaze, or worse the indifference you've grown used to over the last three weeks.

Instead there's a soft look in his eyes. Not soft as you would describe Johnny's, but soft compared to what it has been. Pity, you think.

“You're a fucking mess.” He finally says.

You laugh. You can't help it. The deadpan delivery of such a him statement in response to everything has a laugh escaping your lips. You wipe your eyes, sniffling. He hates it, hearing your sniffles. It annoys him when you cry, it always has.

You push yourself back onto the couch, pulling your knees up again as you stare at him. There's a slight tremble to your fingers still as you sit there in silence for a moment.

“I'm sorry.” You say, still looking at him. “If I had just said something sooner...” You swallow thickly as you stumble over your words. “None of us would have...the camera would have been found sooner...we wouldn't have...both of us...”

“You shouldn't apologize if you don't even know what to say.” He says, the softness in his gaze hardening again.

“It's not that it's just...” You take a breath, trying to straighten out your thoughts. “I feel so guilty. This is all my fault and if I had just said something sooner, none of this would have happened. What happens next is my fault too. I know you and John have been digging into who is behind it and I know how risky that is. They know that we all know now, and...I'm scared of what might happen.”

You let out a long breath at your confession and attempt at an apology, squeezing your fingers together as they begin to tremble even more. You want to look away, his gaze piercing into you again. You're reminded of the moment the words had fallen from your lips that had caused this in the first place. Your heart begins thumping in your chest, your breathing picking up slightly at the memory. Will he get angry again? Will he snap at you and drag you down the hall to lock you in your room until John and Kyle get back, or Johnny calms him enough to rescue you?

“I feel so violated.” Your voice shakes. “I can't even imagine what it's been like for you. It took us so long to get to that point and...” You swallow the bile trying to rise in your throat. “I'm so sorry.” Tears blur your vision again. “I didn't know...I didn't think...I was so stupid.”

He scoffs. “You are.” His words are sharp, and they sting as they slice through you. “Fucking stupid, I'd say.” You wince at his words. “But you’re inexperienced. You don’t think about things like we do. No matter how much everyone has tried to drill it into your head, you’ll never truly understand until you experience it yourself.” He holds your gaze for a moment. “I hope you never have to.”

You stare at him, the meaning of his words not lost on you. You’ve put yourself in danger, you’ve put all of them in danger by keeping this all a secret. Whoever put those cameras up knew you were keeping it a secret and hadn’t done anything in retaliation against you for finding them and destroying them. Maybe that was their plan all along. They knew you’d keep it a secret and use that to their advantage. Strike when they least expected it, or perhaps wait for the moment the truth inevitably came out and then strike.

The thought has a cold chill running down your spine.

You’re afraid for a different reason now.

John and Kyle are gone. Anything could happen to them and it wouldn’t look suspicious. Or whoever put those cameras up wanted everyone split up. Attack when there’s less knights defending the castle.

A shiver runs through you, making you curl in on yourself. The feeling of being watched is back. The darkness peeking out from around the blinds over the rec room windows suddenly feels very threatening.

“What’s goin’ on in here?”

A startled yelp leaves your lips as you whip around to face Johnny where he’s leaning against the door to the rec room. Simon’s body tenses in response to your fearful yelp, an unconscious motion he has no control over. Alphas will always have the drive to protect the omegas in their pack. It’s a natural protective mechanism, no matter how they may be feeling about said omega.

Simon’s body relaxes as you do, putting a hand over your heart to try and calm yourself down again.

“Jumpy this evenin’.” Johnny says, entering the rec room. He steps up to the couch, bending down to rest his hands on the arm next to you. “Didnae mean to scare ye.” He says softly. “Ready tae get to bed?”

You nod. “Yeah. I am.”

“Come on.” He holds out his hand and you take it, letting him help you up off the couch. “We’re usin’ yer shower, Si.” He says.

Simon rolls his eyes. “Course.”

“Simon?” You say before Johnny can pull you from the rec room. The alpha turns to look at you. “I am sorry.”

He stares at you for a long, tense moment. “I know.”

Johnny leads you down the hallway, his hand on your lower back. He’s gotten touchy again, letting his hand rest lower and lower on your back, brushing your breasts as he pulls the covers up around you at night. He refuses to let you shower without sitting on the toilet lid. You know the chances of Simon opening up like that again are slim, if at all. You’ve ruined that opportunity, and you’ll have to be satisfied with where he draws that line permanently.

“Have a good conversation?” Johnny asks.

You nod. “He called me ‘fucking stupid’.”

Johnny nearly chokes for a second, covering his mouth to hide a laugh. “He’s certainly not a man of eloquence.”

You shrug. “I mean, I don’t exactly disagree with him.”

Johnny leads you into Simon’s room, steering you to the bathroom. Your stuff is already inside from the unanimous decision to solely use Simon’s bathroom for ease and also safety.

Your towel is neatly on the rack next to Simon’s and Johnny’s, all folded the same way and hung evenly apart. Your soap and shampoo are neatly placed next to his, along with your toothbrush and other products on the sink. Always so neat and organized, despite his anger at you.

Can’t break his system even after you break his trust.

You pull your shirt over your head after starting the water, letting it get warm. Johnny stands behind you in the doorway, and you know he’s watching. You strip your shorts and underwear off, Johnny grunting quietly as you bend over to add them to your pile of dirty clothes. You’ve been tempted to leave them on the floor for the past two weeks just to peeve, but you’ve riled Simon up enough. With your luck he’d just toss them in the trash.

The water is hot as it pelts your skin, your shoulders relaxing as it begins to loosen the stress of the day. The emptiness in your chest continues to eat away at you, never disappearing despite what happens. Your stomach churns, the nausea returning. You stand under the spray, letting the water pour over your head as you attempt to calm the continuous twisting in your abdomen.

The shower door slides open, another body joining you before it slides closed. Warm skin presses against your back as arms slip around you, pulling you out from directly under the spray. You rest back against Johnny’s chest as he leans his cheek against the top of your head.

“I miss them.” You say quietly, just audible over the shower.

“I know.” Johnny says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“When will they be back?” You ask him, even though you know he can’t tell you.

“Hard tae say.” He says, grabbing your strawberry scented soap from next to Simon’s. He’s just been using Simon’s soap, something you probably assume he does often anyway. “Kate will update us as soon as there’s a possible ETA.”

“I don’t know how much longer I can take.” You say as he begins to wash your back.

“I know.” He says, gently massaging the knots in your back, trying to help you relax. “I wish I could get them home faster. I wish it had been us instead of them for your sake.”

His words make you feel guilty, but you both know it’s not anyone’s fault. John is your alpha, you belong to him, you were claimed by him. You’ll always hurt more about your alpha and beta’s absence than the other members of your pack can comfort you. If Simon had claimed you, things would have been different. The ache in your chest would have been less intense as you would still have an alpha you could lean on.

You’d always miss John, but if you had Simon, the black hole slowly devouring you would have slowed its progress.

Four weeks.

A month.

It's been a month since John and Kyle left. The familiar hole in your chest has widened, a gaping black hole now threatening to swallow you and string you out until you’re nothing but particles lost in its center. It’s worse than the hole Simon left when he went on his solo deployment, it’s worse than the hole they all left when they went on their first mission. Neither of those previous deployments lasted this long, and despite Johnny's attempts to console you, you don’t feel any better.

There’s been no contact.

A month with no contact, a month with no word. You'd know if something had happened. Even if you got no word on it, you would know. That sense that omegas have when something happens to the bond would be screaming.

It's been a rough four weeks.

There’s a heaviness that’s started to permeate the air as you try to adjust to the prolonged absence of your alpha. It’s nearly every day that you’re breaking down now, standing in John’s room to catch any whiff of him that’s left. You’ve worn the scent off his bed, his pillows, his clothes. You’ve run out of shirts that smell like him.

You’re terrified they might fade from your memory entirely. Kyle’s scent had disappeared quicker, fading fast until you were left unable to even picture the sea. The beach is a blurry, distant memory, the smell of the salty air faded and wiped away.

Still you cling to their shirts, as if you can hold them through the fabric. You carry them everywhere, packing them from room to room as you float around in a daze.

You’ve left the barracks once in four weeks for a training session that neither of them could miss. You’d gotten looks as you sat there, the sole audience member, but you're not quite sure what had happened or even what the training was far. You had been far away, lost in your own head, the haze of depression and grief numbing you to everything.

Dr. Keller continues to visit you in the barracks, still more than you normally would see her. You miss her office, the soft warmth of it, the plants and the colors lacking from the sterilized prison that is the barracks. It has become like a prison. You’re trapped inside, unable to even wander around alone. You feel like the princess locked in her tower under the watchful eye of the guards keeping her trapped inside. You need someone to come and rescue you, someone to set you free so you can at least wander the tower alone.

You want your alpha.

You miss John and Kyle desperately, their absence chewing away at your insides. The hole in your chest continues to widen as the days pass, consuming more and more of you as you slip deeper and deeper into the black hole of depression. Johnny is being affected too, sucked in by the gravitational pull of the black hole you have become. Even Simon is starting to feel it, softening a bit more towards you. He’d even let your hands brush a couple of times when he’s escorted you places, and he didn’t yank them away like you might pass some disease onto him.

You wouldn’t necessarily call him affectionate, even before all of this, but this is the first glimpse you’ve gotten of him being back to where the two of you were before you fucked everything up. You know it’s not going to happen overnight. It might never get back to what it was. He might simply be acting out of sympathy, and out of necessity because of your pain and grief being channeled through the pack bonds. Sometimes you wonder if John and Kyle can feel it too from wherever they are in the world.

You miss them so much it hurts.

The tears slip down your cheeks as you sit on the couch in the rec room. Johnny is off taking his turn to work out. It’s early, the sky still grey outside, the perfect epitome of how you feel inside. Simon is seated in his usual spot, book in hand. Your own that he had grabbed is still on the coffee table. You’re staring at it, tears gliding down your cheeks as you hold your knees against your chest. It’s become almost a normal occurrence, the tears, the blank staring, the lack of desire to do anything, even the position you’re seated in.

Simon glances up at you as you sniffle again, lowering his book slightly. “What?” His tone isn't annoyed per se, but you know he has to be tired of your constant blubbering.

“Tell me they’ll be alright.” You say, your voice shaking.

“You know I can’t-” He starts, but you cut him off.

“I need you to tell me.” You sob, your gaze lifting to the black screen of the TV. “I can’t take it. I can’t do this.”

He lets out a sigh, closing his book. You jump as the couch sinks down on your left, Simon taking a seat next to you. The flinch is subconscious as he reaches over to grip your chin and turn your face to look at him. Your tears slide down your cheeks, wetting his fingers.

“They’ll be alright.” He says, eyes hard as he looks at you. He’s lying but you need to hear it. “They’ve been gone for far longer than this before. Trust Price knows what he’s doing. He’s going to do everything in his power to come back. We’ll know if something happens. Laswell will let us know.”

You know that, you know all of it. Yet it does little to calm the pain in your chest. “I miss them.” You sob, Simon’s eyes softening as you continue to cry. “My stomach hurts.”

You’ve been nauseous since the day the truth came out almost five weeks ago. The nausea has been churning in your stomach, making you constantly on the edge of vomiting. It’s the stress, the combination of the truth coming out and your alpha being gone. You’ve been choking food down, eating only out of necessity.

Simon lets out a sigh, releasing your chin to wrap an arm around you. His other hand drops to rest on your stomach. It’s warm through the fabric of your shirt, applying gentle pressure. He smells like alpha, different from John, but still an alpha. The tears continue to fall as he holds you, your body slowly leaning closer and closer to him. He doesn’t complain, doesn’t even try to push you away as you fall against his side.

Your stomach is churning, gnawing. It’s not an unusual feeling. It’s felt this way for the last few weeks. It’s never woken you up before, though. You blink in the darkness of Johnny’s room, his arm still thrown over you. The gnawing continues to intensify as you continue to be pulled from your semi-peaceful sleep, becoming more and more aware.

You’re hungry.

You slowly unravel yourself from Johnny’s snake-like hold, ready to slip into the rec room to peruse your snack stash. Instead you’re pulled back onto the bed by the arm that slips around your waist.

“Where ye goin’?” Johnny rasps, still half asleep.

“I’m hungry.” You whisper.

He lets out a groan, letting go of you to rub a hand over his face. “Give me a minute.”

You rise from the bed as he stretches, slowly sitting up as he draws himself from sleep. It’s just past one in the morning, neither of you having been asleep for long. You feel wide awake as the gnawing in your stomach continues to intensify. You rock back and forth on your feet, debating just going and letting him catch up. It’ll force him to wake up faster, and ease the gnawing hunger threatening to turn you inside out.

Finally Johnny rises from the bed, stretching again as you impatiently open the door. He pads behind you to the rec room, watching as you dig out a bag of chips. He leans against the back of the couch as you stand there, devouring the chips like you haven’t eaten in days. You haven’t really eaten much in the last five weeks, so perhaps it’s finally catching up to you. You finish the bag but it’s not enough, so you grab another, devouring it halfway before you freeze. The bag begins to tremble in your hand, nearly falling from your grasp.

Johnny is alert immediately as you begin to panic. “What?” He asks stepping closer to you, ready to defend you from whatever has you on edge.

Your brain frantically does the math, thinking over the last few weeks. The bag falls to the floor as the realization slams into you like a bus. You turn to face Johnny, eyes wide in shock, fear shooting through you like lightning and clouding the rec room in the sour stench of omega fear.

Your lips tremble, the words stuttering out as you fight the panic rising in you, the nauseous churning of your stomach threatening to bring up the bag and a half of chips you just ate. Your fingers are shaking, clenching into fists again as they begin to go numb. Ragged breaths wheeze from your lungs as you stare at Johnny’s worried face, brows furrowed as he tries to understand what has you in a sudden panic at one in the morning.

“My last heat was eleven weeks ago.”

“The timeline is right,” Dr. Keller says, taking the blood pressure cuff off your arm. “The symptoms point to pre-heat.”

You take another bite of your candy bar, eating half out of necessity and half because you’re nervous. You hadn’t even considered this when John left, but of course you didn’t know how long he would be gone.

“Any word from John yet?” Dr. Keller asks as she packs the blood pressure monitor back into her bag.

“None.” Johnny says, crossing his arms. “Kate sent out a message, but there’s been no response.”

You’re numb to that fact, the hope that had filled you two days ago gone now that there’s been no word, not even for something like this. Simon had gone out of his way to call you when you needed him, but John can’t even send a simple message through, even a simple no.

“We may have to consider alternative options if he can’t get back in time.” Dr. Keller says.

He won’t get back in time. They’re all saying it silently. They all know it and so do you.

Your hands close into fists. You had hoped with your new pack and alpha you wouldn’t have to go through this again. But, of course with them having to put their job first, this was always a possibility. It was bound to happen eventually, you just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.

“We’ll wait as long as we can.” Dr. Keller says, looking at you. “We don’t have forever, though.”

You shove the rest of the candybar in your mouth. You don’t want to say anything, you don’t want to do anything. You’re numb except for the incessant hunger. You’ll know when it’s getting close, when the hunger fades and you’re facing down the reality that your alpha won’t be here. You know he won’t. Even if Kate can get ahold of him, he won’t make it back in time.

You’re going to have to do this alone.

Well...perhaps not.

Maybe there is someone that can help you after all.

You’re terrified. You’re not sure how to even approach this, how to bring it up. It’s eating you alive, but you have to ask. You have to know. That small bubble of hope still rising in you that maybe, just maybe you can avoid the horror awaiting you. It’s a big request, but perhaps you can be convincing enough to play to his pity.

“Simon?” You ask, your hands curled into fists so they’re not visibly shaking. Your hair is dripping onto your shirt, soaking it but you don’t care. The cold is keeping you aware, keeping you from floating away into your head again.

He grunts, looking up from his phone. You’d used the shower in his room again so he could watch you while Johnny took his own shower. You won’t sleep in here. You’ll stay with Johnny just like you have for the last almost five weeks. It’s safer, should your heat start in the middle of the night again. And also because he doesn’t want you to stay with him.

This is stupid. It’s a stupid decision but you need to know.

What if he says yes?

“Can I...ask you something?” You say, shifting nervously on your feet.

He pockets his phone before pushing himself up to stand. He towers over you as he moves closer, staring down at you as you look up at him. Sometimes you forget just how big he is, just how commanding his presence can be. You fight the urge to cower, to submit to him in fear. “What?”

The nervous lump in your throat threatens to choke you, the memories of his anger directed right at you burning right through you. What if he gets mad again? What if he reacts the same way? You can’t know what he will do, though. You steady yourself, wrapping the fabric of your shirt around your hands.

“Will...” You clear your throat. “Will you help me through my heat?”

It’s a big request. A huge request. You’re asking him to jump past barriers he’d kept up even before, something he’d never even suggested or hinted at wanting to do even before your last heat. You’re asking him to jump past barriers he’s put back up since your betrayal, making it clear you’re not welcome back in, you’re not going to get to where you were before. The most he’s done is let you lean against him that one night in the rec room.

You hope maybe he’ll agree out of necessity, maybe he’ll take pity on you and save you from the horrors of going through a heat without an alpha. It may be stupid, but you’re terrified of what’s awaiting you if he doesn’t agree. You don’t want to do it, you don’t want to be put to sleep and then wake up a week later sick and disoriented, and then spend the next few days still in the same state.

It makes your stomach churn, and not from hunger.

His eyes widen in shock as your words register. His hands tighten into fists at his sides, his shoulders tensing. You fight the urge to flinch at the movement, the sudden hardening of his stance before you. He wasn’t expecting it, obviously. You came out of left field with it, but you have to ask. You’ll beg if you need to. You’ll get on your knees and beg like your life depends on it if he wants you to. Anything just to avoid what’s looming in the near future.

His eyes harden as he stares down at you, and you suddenly begin to regret your decision to ask. His gaze is piercing, taking you back to when you confessed. You’ve made a mistake. You’ve made a huge mistake.

“No.”

The word is simple, two letters, one syllable, yet it slices right through you. You should have expected it, should have known that would be your answer, but it still hurts. He knows, he knows John isn’t coming back in time. He knows you’re going to have to do this alone. You had hoped maybe pity would push him into saying yes, maybe he’d open up a bit more before your heat started, maybe he might be merciful.

“I can’t.” He takes a step back, then another. His gaze softens to what you almost perceive as panic. He shakes his head. “I can’t.”

So maybe it wasn’t anger at you keeping him from agreeing. You can feel it, the edge to his scent starting to cloud it, the way his hands open and close as he squeezes them into fists over and over.

Tears burn your eyes as you stare at him, lifting your hands so they’re laced together in front of you. You knew that would be the answer, yet you can’t stop the disappointment. “Oh.” That's all you can say. You don’t trust yourself to say much else.

You swallow the lump in your throat as Johnny appears in the doorway, looking between the two of you before his eyes settle on you. He can tell something happened, something transpired between the two of you while he was gone. How much of it he heard, you’re not sure. Perhaps none at all judging by the look on his face.

“Ready for bed?” He asks, his gaze cautious. He’s trying to assess the situation, figure out what could have transpired to cause such a reaction between you and his alpha. He’ll never know. Not unless Simon tells him.

“Yeah.” You breathe, scurrying out of Simon’s room before you can make more of a fool out of yourself.

“H-How long will it take?” You ask, your heart thudding in your chest. Your pre-heat symptoms had stopped earlier this morning, the hunger gone, the itching beginning under your skin.

“As soon as your temperature goes up, we’ll get started.” Dr. Keller says, sticking electrodes to your chest. You’ve already got the blood pressure cuff around your arm and pulse monitor on your finger.

“Ye were prepared for this.” Johnny says, sitting next to the hospital bed. You’re in a private room, well away from any others, even though no one will know you’re in heat. There won’t be any scent projecting, no neediness, no aching. You won’t be aware at all that anything is happening as your body rapidly cycles through that sudden flood of hormones.

Dr. Keller nods. “This was always a possibility, so I made sure I had everything on hand for when it did happen.” She takes your temperature again. “Tell me when you start to feel warm. The last thing I want to do is send you under too late.”

Your skin crawls at her words, memories flashing back to the time you were put under too late. You trust Dr. Keller to take care of you, though. She’s far more competent and aware than that nurse had been. It’s her job to take care of you, to watch after you in moments like this.

You just wish you could talk to John before you go under.

You want to remember his voice when you come back out.

“I’ll be here the whole time.” Johnny says, taking your hand, obviously sensing your discomfort.

He’s brought a bag of things with him, since he’ll be staying with you for the few days it’ll take to get through your heat. It won’t be as long this time, your body being forced through those hormones quickly. It won’t even register it needs a knot, flying through those symptoms.

The wait is the worst part. It takes forever, every minute seeming to take an hour. Johnny waits dutifully by your side. You wish this wasn’t the first heat he would be here for. You wish he had at least gotten some experience with a normal heat, just so this one wouldn’t scare him off. Even Kyle might have been shaken by it, though, even with his experience.

Eventually the heat begins to prickle under your skin, your heart rate jumping. Johnny calls in Dr. Keller, looking nervous as sweat begins to bead on your forehead.

“It’s time.” Dr. Keller says, taking your temperature. It’s jumped quickly, your body starting to prepare for the onslaught of hormones about to be released.

She turns your arm, hooking up the IV that will deliver the sedative as well as fluids to keep you hydrated. The heart monitor beeps rapidly as you grow nervous, Johnny squeezing your hand gently. You know he’s trying, and there’s nothing more he can really do. There’s no stopping this. It’s going to happen no matter what.

“I’m going to administer the sedative. You’ll start to feel sleepy.” Dr. Keller says. “I’ll put in the feeding tube after you’re out.”

You swallow nervously, sweat starting to bead on your forehead. “It’ll be okay right?”

Dr. Keller gives you a soft smile “You’ll be just fine. It’ll be a few days for us, but it’ll be a few seconds for you. It’ll be over before you know it.”

You swallow nervously before nodding. Dr. Keller pushes the sedative through the IV, your body starting to relax as it begins to take effect. The itching under your skin stops, the heat fading as the ceiling gets further and further away as your vision tunnels. Johnny squeezing your hand is the last thing you remember before everything goes dark.

He’s seen a lot of things, done a lot of things that would make the average person violently ill. He’s no stranger to blood and gore, yet he can’t watch as Dr. Keller inserts the feeding tube into your nose. The thought of having it in his own body makes him nearly gag, his eyes closing as he breathes.

“I’m done.” Dr. Keller says, a small smile on her face as he turns back around.

“About gart me boak.” He says, looking at you where you appear to be sleeping peacefully. He supposes you are, blissfully unaware of anything and everything around you.

“You’re not good with needles either, are you?” She asks, obviously noticing how he had turned away when she put in your IV.

“Not my favorite.” He admits.

“She’s all set.” She says, stepping back. “You’ll want to move her every few hours, turn her on one side, lift her legs up. Keeps her from getting bed sores or blood clots. I’ll be next door, and I’ll check on her periodically. If anything happens at night, I’ll have my phone on full volume.”

“Thank ye, doctor.” He says, squeezing your hand despite the fact you can’t feel it.

Dr. Keller takes her leave, the room going quiet aside from the beeping of the heart monitor, and the occasional buzzing of the blood pressure cuff as it tightens around your arm. He stares at you for a long moment, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest as you sleep. It’s probably the most peaceful sleep you’ve gotten in the last few weeks, despite the changes happening internally. Dr. Keller had explained it to him, the hormonal changes, how sedation works differently than going through a heat consciously. Omegas do go through heat cycles awake and aware without an alpha sometimes. Institutes cycle between isolated heats and sedation.

The thought of you going through both makes his stomach twist.

Sweat beads on your forehead as you lay there, something that will continue for the next few days, the doctor said. Your heart rate is higher than normal, another sign that you’re in your heat as your brain cycles through the sudden rush of hormones. He’s not quite sure what to expect, not quite sure what it’ll look like if something goes wrong. He’s never done this before, and the little research he’d done doesn’t feel all that helpful. Dr. Keller trusts him to know, though, and he supposes it’ll be pretty obvious should something go wrong.

You’re not going to be doing much aside from laying there for the next few days.

The hours seem to drag on and he can’t help but wonder if this is how Kyle feels during your heats. At least Kyle had a job to do, had to focus and listen for the breaks in between rounds when he’d go in, ensure nothing was wrong, nothing happened, that you’re being fed and taken care of. All he has is the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the occasional buzz and crinkling of nylon as the blood pressure cuff expands. Dr. Keller brings him meals, keeping him fed and occasionally keeps him company as he watches dutifully over you. His back is aching from the uncomfortable chair and the makeshift bed, but he can hardly complain. He’s slept on worse.

He’s sketched a lot in the silence between watching videos on his phone and napping. It’s been a peaceful time, aside from his initial worry. You sleep away, sweat still beading on your forehead. Every so often he grabs a wet paper towel, wiping away the sweat.

He jumps as his alarm on his phone goes off in the silence, his pencil falling to the floor. He picks it up, setting his sketchbook to the side before he gets up. He’s careful as he slips his arms under you, easing you over onto your side. He bends your legs, making sure you’re steady and not cutting off circulation anywhere. He runs a hand over your hair, the strands starting to slip out of the braid he had put in before your trip to the med center.

He moves around to the other side of the bed, pulling the tie out before undoing the braid. He’s careful as he redoes it as best he can, making sure not to pull too tightly on the strands. The last thing you need when you wake up is to feel like your hair is being yanked out of your head.

He ties off the braid before moving back to his seat, staring at your peaceful face for a moment. It’s nothing new to him, but he can’t help but stare. He’s seen you sleep many times, held you, watched you blissfully unaware of the world. The softness in your face, the worry and the stress and the weight on your shoulders of just being who you are gone.

He picks his sketchbook back up, going back to drawing.

His stomach churns nervously. There’s a subtle shake to his hands, something that doesn’t happen often. He likes to think he’s prepared for anything, conditioned enough to not be shaken by anything. Yet he can’t help but feel unsure as Dr. Keller closes off your IV.

“She’ll be coming out of it soon.” Dr. Keller says. “She’ll be confused, disoriented. She might get combative. Your job is to talk to her, try to calm her and help ease her back into awareness. She’s a crier after heats, so I don’t doubt there will be tears. She may get sick as well.” She gives him a reassuring smile. “It’ll be alright. Coming out of a heat is hard, and so is coming out of sedation. Both at the same time is always a struggle.”

There was a time he thought maybe sedation would be the easiest way to deal with a heat, but from what he’s hearing, he might have been wrong. Sure it might be easier in the moment to not have those week long symptoms of intense desire, the fever, the desperation. Coming out of it though? From what he’s heard so far, it’s not as easy as it sounds. He’s been through it, coming out of sedation after an injury in the field. It’s a confusing feeling, disorienting enough before you find out days or weeks have passed. It’s hard to conceptualize without all those hormones going crazy in your head.

You start to stir, your brows pinching as you slowly begin to wake. You let out a groan, reaching for the feeding tube immediately. Dr. Keller gently pushes your hands away, nodding to Johnny. Your brows furrow deeper, a groan leaving your lips as you begin to move more and more.

“Easy, kitten.” He says, leaning down close to you, projecting his scent so you can hopefully get a whiff of it to help calm you. “I’ve got ye. Yer alright.” He brushes your hair back from your sweaty forehead as you continue to groan. He takes your hand as you reach for the tube again, squeezing it gently.

You crack your eyes open for a moment before quickly pinching them shut. Dr. Keller reaches up, turning off the overhead light before leaning down close to you again. She’s projecting her natural beta scent as well to try and help calm you. “I’m going to remove the tube, I know it’s uncomfortable.”

Johnny has to look away again as Dr. Keller removes the feeding tube, pressing his face into your hair as he projects his scent even more. You squeeze his hand back, the other gripping the side of the bed. You take in a harsh, gasping breath before you begin to cry, tears spilling out of your eyes as you sob. He had heard that you’re a crier after your heat from Kyle, he’s just never witnessed it before.

It takes him back to just a few weeks ago in John’s office when you had sat there crying as they interrogated you. It had made him uneasy, the stress and the fear clouding your scent. The fear he’d felt in those moments, listening to you cry and panic, nearly sending yourself into distress before John had calmed you. He might have done more, but he had been angry, angry at whoever put those cameras in your room, and slightly at you for keeping it from them for so long.

He can’t blame it completely on you, though. That had been back in the time where you still weren’t sure if you could trust them, before you fully opened yourself to them. Maybe they were slightly at fault for not making you feel like you could trust them, for not being realistic with you about the dangers. Sure you had been warned, had it drilled into your head why your safety was paramount, but maybe they had kept too much hidden from you. Maybe they had put you in more danger by trying to keep you safe.

Your eyes are still pinched closed as you continue to cry, sobs wracking your body as you grip his hand tightly. It tugs at his chest as he whispers quietly against your hair, trying to get you to recognize him, pull you out of the confusion and disorientation you must be feeling. You begin to hyperventilate, your hand slipping from his as you try to push yourself up. Dr. Keller already has the bed lifting, her other hand holding a vomit bag in front of you. It seems almost instinctual, but she’s been through this many times before. She had told him how many during one of their talks, when he’d asked her how long she's been working with omegas. He hadn’t realized just how little he really knew about your doctor before now.

Johnny has to look away as you vomit into the bag, his own stomach churning. Not just because of you being ill, but also because of how distressing this all seems. How you haven’t gone into distress is a miracle to him, but perhaps you’re still too out of it to be that aware.

Your breathing has calmed just slightly, your forehead beaded with sweat. Dr. Keller removes the vomit bag from in front of you, grabbing another and setting it on your lap.

“I’m going to dispose of this.” She says. “She’s going to be sick for a while. I’ll grab more fluids and I’ll be back shortly.”

Johnny nods, wiping at the sweat on your brow. You lean into his touch, letting out a quiet whine. His touch is gentle, almost scared he might hurt you in your fragile state. You’re still crying, the tears cascading down your cheeks. His chest hurts, guilt and sorrow churning inside of him from seeing you in this state. All thought that sedation was the best option goes out the window as he holds the vomit bag for you, keeping your braid out of the way.

Kyle had told him about what it was like during your heat and after, partially to feed his curiosity, but also in case something like this happened where he had to be the one taking care of you. He’d heard about the pain, the tears, the disorientation. This is different, though. This is far worse than what Kyle had described to him.

Dr. Keller returns, IV bag in hand. She removes the empty bag and replaces it with the full one, hooking it up to your IV. You have to be thirsty after a few days of having nothing but a feeding tube and the fluids to keep you going during your fever.

Johnny catches her hand as she pulls out a syringe, small enough to be discreet. Something tickles in the back of his mind as he stares at it, his instincts on edge.

“What is that?” He asks, starting to get defensive, his metaphorical hackles rising.

“Pain medicine.” She says simply, handing it to him. She has to be able to read him, sensing the sudden protectiveness wafting off of him.

He takes the syringe, reading the label. Morphine. He feels silly for distrusting the doctor. She’s never proven herself untrustworthy. While he knows they can’t be too trusting of anyone, she’s never done you any harm, never given them a reason to suspect her. She wouldn't hurt you, not after the dedication he’s seen from her these last few days alone.

“She might need it later once she’s more aware.” She continues, taking the syringe back when he hands it to her, putting it back in her pocket. “Her body just went through an intense hormonal cycle and those hormonal levels are now dropping suddenly. It can cause a wide range of symptoms from crying to illness to physical pain. When omegas are allowed to go through that cycle naturally, usually with an alpha, the symptoms of coming down from that cycle are typically less severe compared to when sedation is used, of course besides the physical pain. The pain with sedation is obviously quite different from the pain when the cycle happens naturally with an alpha.”

Johnny’s brows furrow as he rests his hand over yours, your breaths stuttering through your sobs. Your hands are clutching at the blanket, one of yours he’d grabbed from your room in hopes the familiar comfort might help you through the process. He hates that you’re in pain like this, he hates that you’re in pain at all. He’s beginning to feel the bubbling anger deep in his stomach at Simon for letting you endure this. He has no idea. He’s isolated himself for your safety, and he’ll never get to see what this is like, what you’re going through right now.

Dr. Keller says your name softly, leaning against the side of the bed, electing to ignore the swirling emotions of her fellow beta. He’s not her concern, you are. “Can you open your eyes for me?”

You continue to cry, but you manage to get your eyes opened, squinting at her through your tears. Dr. Keller takes your face in her hands, using her thumbs to gently pull down your lower lids, trying to get a good look at your eyes. You try to jerk away, letting out possibly the cutest defiant sound Johnny has ever heard, and he might have reacted had it been a different situation. Instead he leans over the side of the bed again, talking to you quietly so you calm a bit. You do relax at the sound of his voice, his scent projecting even more to try and comfort you, bring you back into reality.

“There we go.” Dr. Keller says, looking at your eyes before she gives you a soft smile. “Welcome back.” She removes her hands from your face leaning against the bed rail again. “It's all over. You did perfectly.”

You let out another groan, lifting a hand weakly before letting it drop back against your stomach.

“I know you're thirsty.” Dr. Keller says. “I'll get you some soon. We need to make sure your stomach has settled for now.”

Your eyes squeeze closed as you start to cry again, your inhales shaky as the tears start sliding down your cheeks. Johnny shushes you gently, petting your hair. Sweat still drips down your face, your hands curling around the edge of the blanket.

You try to push yourself up to sit, Dr. Keller immediately understanding what you need again as she lifts the vomit bag up to your mouth.

Johnny peels your hand from around the blanket, holding it tightly. His own stomach is churning but he swallows it back, bringing your hand up to his face. He kisses the back, the skin clammy and warm to the touch. Your scent is a swirl of things he’s never smelled before, drowning out the natural sweetness. Kyle had mentioned how your scent and John’s change during the heat and after. He hardly recognizes it right now, and he finds himself missing the sweet scent of strawberries.

Your fingers squeeze around his as you lay back against the bed, eyes cracked open and sniffling as the tears continue to slide down your cheeks. You let out a groan, tugging weakly at his hand.

“Hi kitten.” He says, leaning over the bed rail again. “Yer alright. Get ye feeling better soon.”

Your inhale is shaky, catching in your chest. You weakly tug his hand towards your face pressing your sweaty cheek against his skin. You nuzzle against his hand, your tongue darting out to lick his skin. He can't help but chuckle, wiping at a tear that falls with his thumb. You’re still out of it, but he knows that’s a sign that you’re starting to come through, starting to come back to yourself through the haze.

You let out a long groan as you pull away from his hand, licking at your lips. They're horribly chapped, almost rivaling Simon's, but at least you have an excuse.

“Thirsty?” Dr. Keller asks, returning to the bedside with a cup of water. “Drink slowly, you'll get sick again.” She warns, holding the straw up to your lips.

You manage to do as she says and take small sips of the water despite how thirsty he knows you must be. Johnny keeps caressing your face with his thumb, your fingers still laced with his.

“Let me get your vitals.” Dr. Keller says, setting the cup of water on the table. You let out a groan in protest, smacking your lips, obviously wanting more. “You can have more in a minute. Too much on your stomach could upset it, and I’m sure the last thing you want to do right now is get sick again.”

You let out a quiet grunt, leaning your cheek against his hand once again. Your skin is still a bit warm to the touch, but that could just be from the exertion of trying to come out of sedation and being sick. Dr. Keller takes your vitals once more, recording them on her sheet. She’s been tracking them your entire heat, using them to judge how far along you are since she doesn’t have the benefit of you being awake to track the symptoms that way. He had wondered why she tracked them on paper, but then he remembered John telling him about how Shepherd had requested all of your private records and Dr. Keller’s notes.

She is smart. He’ll give her that.

“Things look good, even if you might not feel like it right now.” She says.

You try to shift on the bed but you let out a quiet groan, freeing your hand from his.

“Hurting?” Dr. Keller asks.

You nod, letting out a whine. It tickles in the back of his brain, his beta wanting to reach out and comfort you, but he knows he can’t. He can’t ease the physical pain. One downside to beta evolution. Their ancestors never learned how to fix physical pain. Maybe that would have made them too perfect. All he can do is try to comfort you through it.

“Let's get some pain meds in you.” She says, pulling the syringe out of her pocket again. “Then we can get you somewhere more comfortable.”

She injects the pain medicine through your IV, giving it a few minutes to begin working before disconnecting you from all the machines. Johnny helps her get you in a sweatshirt, wanting to keep you warm. You are shaking, though what that might be related to he’s not sure. Perhaps everything.

Dr. Keller hands him the cup of water. “Keep her drinking. I'll go grab a car, then we can get her back to the barracks.”

You feel far too light in Johnny’s arms as he carries you from the car into the barracks. Simon is nowhere to be seen, though he hadn’t expected a welcome back party from his alpha. He’s probably still hiding out in his office, or in the gym, his usual hiding spot. Johnny is kind of glad he’s not here, though he would like to rub it in his face, the decision he’d made.

Johnny takes you to his room, still avoiding yours. It’s almost like a crime scene, Johnny tempted to take it off. He knows placing you in there might make you panic when you wake up after everything. That’s the last thing he wants. So instead he takes you to the place you’ve spent the last almost six weeks in, somewhere you’ll recognize the scent and be comfortable when you wake up.

You roll onto your side as soon as he lays you down, curling up on his blankets. He drapes yours over you, tucking it around your shoulders before he steps back out into the hallway.

“Keep her hydrated. Lots of water, tea, clear sodas.” Dr. Keller instructs him. “She'll be drowsy for a while because of the pain medicine. Give her a couple hours and once the pain meds wear off and her stomach settles a bit, try her with some bland foods. She did well with mashed potatoes after her last heat. She’s going to be out of it and sick for a few days. Keep an eye out for anything abnormal. Vomiting blood, can’t keep food down, if she complains about pain somewhere or is hard to wake, give me a call.”

“Got it.” Johnny nods, committing everything she’s told him in the last ten minutes to memory.

“You did really well.” She says, giving him a soft smile. “You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you, doctor.” He nods, internally beaming at her praise.

“Keep me updated, and don’t be afraid to call.” She says.

He watches her walk to the door, Simon’s door opening as soon as she’s gone. He at least looks guilty, like the shame is eating him alive. Johnny hasn’t seen him like this in a long time, not since he caused you to distress. It makes him a little too happy to see him in such a state.

“How is she?” He asks, not moving from in front of his door.

The sound of you vomiting into a vomit bag reaches their ears. Simon at least has the decency to flinch at the sound. It’s subtle, probably unnoticeable had Johnny not been able to read his alpha like a book.

“Sick.” He says, trying to hide his anger and disappointment. They’re complex feelings. He knew Simon would turn you down if you asked for his own reasons, but now after seeing what happens when there’s no alpha available during a heat, he almost hates Simon for doing this to you. “Confused. Still a bit out of it.”

“You know I couldn’t do it.” Simon says, using that uncanny ability to read everyone around him.

Johnny hates it sometimes.

He turns to glance at you through his open door as you continue to be sick. You’re going to be miserable for the next few days, likely more than you are usually after your heats. This one will be less physical pain after taking knots for a week straight, and more pain from being sedated, pain from being mostly immobile, pain from just being alive and carrying this status. Such pain omegas live with, physically, mentally, emotionally.

He hates it.

“Ye don’t know what it was like.” He says, his hands closing into fists. “Seeing her like that.”

You let out a long whine, a sob tearing from your chest as you inhale. Tears prick behind Johnny’s eyes as he holds Simon’s gaze. “Ye just had to say no.” He shakes his head, turning to go back into his room.

He doesn't want to tell you. He can see the look on your face already. The disappointment. The pain. The agony. He can smell the souring of your scent already, the painful grief filling it and there will be nothing he can do to ease it. It's a rare moment they've left you alone in the last month and a half, forced to after a call with Kate and Shepherd.

He's not even sure how to approach it.

He opens his bedroom door slowly, his stomach clenching as he looks in at you. You're on the bed, wrapped in a blanket where he left you, cuddled against your big bear. He doesn't want to wake you, especially not for this but he has to. He has no choice. You have to know.

He lets out a sigh as he sinks down on the edge of his bed, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. “Kitten?” He shakes you gently. “Kitten, wake up.”

You inhale sharply, startling awake despite his attempt to be gentle. There’s a sharp spike of fear in your scent for a moment as you’re yanked from sleep suddenly, but it fades as soon as you realize where you are and who is with you. You turn over onto your back, winding up resting against his knee as you rub your eyes.

“Johnny?” You croak, still partly asleep.

“Si and I just got off a call with Kate.” He says carefully, not wanting to scare you too much.

You're wide awake immediately, pushing yourself up to sit. You swallow nervously, your scent already souring. “What is it?” Your voice wavers as you ask, eyes already shining with tears.

“John and Kyle are fine.” He says, regretting not starting with that. He can see the temporary relief on your face. “But, they need some backup for this one.”

It takes a moment for your brain to process his words. A hole tears through the center of his chest as he watches the realization hit, your face falling as your scent begins to sour even more. Your arms wrap around yourself as you stare at him, the relief gone from your face as you stare at him. He swallows the lump in his own throat, your scent causing his beta to stir, the drive to comfort you itching in his brain. He can’t though, he can’t comfort you through this.

Your voice shakes, a tear sliding down your cheek as you figure out what it is he woke you to say, why Kate had called. Your inhale is shaky, catching in your chest before you speak.

“You're both leaving too, aren’t you.”

NEXT ->

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#call of duty #call of duty fic #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 x reader #tf141 x reader #john price x reader #captain price x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #omegaverse

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wonryllis · 7 months

Text

watermelon sugar (m) | sim jaeyun.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝗹𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗮𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗲𝘁?

preview. he’s the sweetest to you, one might confuse him for your boyfriend, but he’s not, he just your fuckboy of a roommate who treats you like a delicate candy, always looking out for you and never at you; or so you think.

or where, jake can't seem to get you off his mind no matter how hard he tries.

meet the cast. simp sim jaeyun(jake) with his obsession fem!reader

genre. and they were roommates trope, fuckboy soft for his girl trope, SMUT MDNI!!!, lots of toothrooting fluff, tiny speck of angst but not proper angst, drunk confessions?, only one who can control him/her trope, happy happy ending, crack/humor, domestic scenes(newly added) college fuckboy athelete roommate!jake with his candy!roommate girl. computer science & programming major!reader, exercise physiology major!jake, nonidol!au, soccer player!jake.

word count. 13,488 unedited! it's word vomit.

warnings. fingering, dry humping, dirty talkkk lots and lots of it, nasty freak jake with innocent(seems to be) girlie, experienced x inexperienced(virgin but has idea), pussy slapping, somewhat drunk sex but there's consent consent, oral (m rec.) different scenes, p in v (unprotected! but pls pls pls do not do this ever use protection!!!!!) multiple orgasms (f.rec), overstimuation(f.rec) and somewhat (m.rec), spitting? slight nipple play, jake is rough and filthy, with heavyyyyy corruption kink it's all throughout the story, strength kink, size difference “i worship the ground you walk on” energy but still dominant jake, jake has soooo many dirty inner thoughts about you it's innumerable. he's a simp for you so you're a slut for him— i guess that's them?

theme song. animals by maroon 5 (jake pov), into you by ariana grande (yn pov)

﹙★﹚ ࣪DRABBLES (find them here)

` author notes. im sorry for making you guys wait three extra weeks I hope y'all still want to read this,, what do i say it was so horrible before the revamp, thankfully it's so much better now and the smut god, it was so hard to write it i hope it's good enough. REBLOGS AND FEEDBACKS ARE HIGHLY ENCOURAGED AND APPRECIATED!!

“i don’t mind this feeling.”

YOU DONT KNOW WHAT TO CALL IT, WHATEVER IS HAPPENING BETWEEN YOU BOTH, BUT YOU LIKE IT. IT FEELS SILLY AND FRAGILE AND GOOD. perhaps a little too good.

god forbid what you had done in your past life to get a roommate like jake, a complete package; a concoction of all classic kinds of roommate one could possibly expect. you aren’t complaining though he takes care of you in every way he possibly could. making you feel like his entire world revolves around you, from his time home to the hours he spends on the field. one would ask anything of him and his answer would surely include you in one way or another, everyone knew it, everyone could see it, the way he feels.

he makes you breakfast, he helps with the cleaning- you both actually have it planned to have a cleaning day every week to polish the apartment. he cooks for you and he does the dishes more often than not, the only exception being the time when you insist deathly on doing it yourself because come on you gotta do at least some thing around the house.

to add to the perfect mixture of god gifted man, he video games in his room with the door shut so that the sound of him shouting at the screen doesn’t disturb you. does the laundry- even your bras and underwear, he’s just too used to those clothings to give a care to get embarrassed (outwardly). he would never admit the way they get him all hot and bothered when he thinks of all the places those fabrics have touched. how wild his imagination runs and all the things he wishes he could do to you. all the sounds he could get, out of you and all the things you'd taste of.

you are his candy (well not exactly ‘his’ but according to him this nickname of yours is only and I repeat only reserved for him) literally because you are all over sweets all the damn time and figureratively because he’d die to have a taste of you; the forbidden fruit of his life, too innocent for a person like him to ruin. but lord would he give up everything to land a chance to lay his hands on you not so innocently.

this man does not give a fuck about who is not you, and maybe occasionally spare a care for his two best friends who so far have only been blessed enough to know your name because jake has made it clear that you're off-limits and if they ever dare to do anything given the opportunity he'd rip off their balls and feed it to ducks (he's serious he swears)

getting to the real point of your dynamic: the only drawback— jake sim is a renowned fuckboy on campus, the heartbreak prince and you, his miss americana as they all like to call it. it is a daily routine, having to find a new girl in the house and ofttimes hearing them even with your door closed and your hands pressed on your ears. at first it felt disgusting, then you got used to it, and now very recently you’ve been feeling weirdly dejected. a certain kind of hatred towards the girls, something you can’t pin point exactly to why and what it is.

“candy, my laptop broke down again!” jake's raspy voice dances through the little cracks of the bathroom door as you prepare for a quick shower. you sigh, tightening the towel wrapped around you before stepping out. a short knock at his batman poster door left ajar, and he's whipping his head to have a look at you as if he knew you'd be in the middle of washing up. a little secret, yes he knew because everytime ahead of bathtime you make sure to have a sip of your watermelon slush stack from the fridge and the sound of it's door reaches his room just right to let him know.

he remains seated on his bed, a sheepish smile on his face. your eyes fall at his desk to see his laptop closed, he tricked you, and like always you fell for it,“maybe if you used your school laptop to study instead of playing games on it, this wouldn't happen all the time. but i assume you probably did it to get me here, it’s not gonna work everytime yun,” you click your tongue in feigned annoyance making him grin wider,“well it does work everytime though,” he knows how to have you on his tail just like you know how to have him wrapped around your finger. it only seems fair, you both know what gets the other going and you use it to your advantage.

“what is it?” asking in a sing song tone, you plop down on his desk chair. spinning in rounds with your legs out swinging, hands gripping onto the arms of the chair while looking up at the phosphorescent glow-in-the-dark stickers you had forcefully put up on the ceiling of his room. a funny memory of jake trying to stop you because it would defeat the whole image of his room only to fold when you gave him the puppy doe eyes, baby talking that you really wanted to do it. it doesn't take much to have jake cave in, just one look from you and the boy is a flatline. fuckboy? he is that to everyone but to you he's practically whatever you want him to be, though you have never really had a talk about it.

“actually eunsang, she-” there is a hesitation is his tone you are well aware of, having almost a clear idea of what he's about to say,“i told- no warned you not to get involved with her for a second time, didn’t i?” you scold, feeling that little twinge of hurt knowing he probably will keep on being involved with girls like this no matter what you say. it's the one thing where you don't have him under your spell. or that's you think, i mean you you have no idea do you of how much he wants you. just like how you have no idea how much you want him.

“yes but it happened and now she’s after me all the time, she even showed up to my soccer practice yesterday! please just this one time, please help me get rid of her,” clamping together his hands in a plea, jake pouts as best as he can, giving you his puppy eyes. but when you don’t show a reaction of any sort he resorts to the next best guaranteed thing: bribery,“i’ll buy you tons of watermelon lollipops! from your favorite brand that too!” eyes sparkling with hope and expections of having you fall for it, like you do every single time, he waits. albeit patterns break, in everything and everyone.

“no, i’m on a diet. i gave up on sweets, what if i get diabetes? will you,” you point at him dramatically,“take responsibility?” to which his stance morphs into one of stunned. he would gladly take responsibility for you at any given chance, but it's one of more gravity and significance than diabetes. and he's sure he's not one you should be in care of as more than anything that you are right now. he's too corrupted and you are too naive.

“yes of course i’ll help you take your meds and-” he mumbles in a quick, hurried note aware that you’ll not let him answer if he’s not fast enough. you still beat him to it though, speaking loud over and above his voice, to drown out his words despite hearing them quite clearly,“will you? NO you will not! so let me just shower peacefully before i get the urge to lock you in the bathroom when you’re in there later,” with a silence after, one that has jake grinning again at your cuteness, you take it as a que to rush out swiftly. trying to make it to the bathroom before he decides to use his strength against you and hold you down wherever he wants. which though hasn't been often, has always left you breathless and flustered to a point you refuse to admit.

training to become an athlete, a buff center forward in comparison to you who barely puts effort into doing even a little bit of yoga once a month. it’s obvious he’ll have you give in if he wants but he’s too sweet to force you. and of course it's obvious, the tension of the strength kink that looms over in the room.

it comes as a shock to you when the next day, the first thing you see waking up in the morning and walking into the living room: is eunsang standing by the kitchen counter. and important point: clad in one of jake’s dress shirts that you recognize from doing his laundry occasionally, pouring herself a glass of water. oh you had to see this coming, this is jake we're talking about will be really ever like ever not bring over girls? no matter if they're clingy or not. the answer is ambiguous and definitely not to your favor.

she’s shares a small smile upon noticing you, a friendly smile which you know is obviously fake. she’s doing it just to look good and polite in jake’s eyes. just to show that she's not bothered by you, because as said everyone knows if they don't like you then they automatically are on jake sim's blacklist. and being the star player of the team, his acquaintance is more or less influential to a large extent, so note to be taken be nice to candy to not be on the cross out list.

however as sad as it is to say it’s of no use. she’s not even there in his eyes to begin with. the moment the jake comes out of his room, his field of vision doesn’t include her. passing by her very visible figure like she’s a microscopic bug to ruffle your hair in a dotting manner, his morning voice coming out in an adoring essence,“good morning, candy,” he smiles and scrunches up his nose when he notices the baby cat you both adopted last month, curled up in the corner of the couch,“and mei,” he acknowledges your pet kitty but not the girl he brought home, that should speak volumes to you, jake thinks. treating you like candy of his world you are, shouldn't that be the ultimate giveaway of his feelings? like even his hookups can see how down bad he is for you why is it that you're the only one who can't? he wants you to know but at the same time he feels he's not right for you, a dilemma he handles by fucking up over and over again.

wishing him morning in response you give him a look which silently delivers your question of what is going on. you did hear them last night (more like her), but you didn’t know it was her her. you weren’t even expecting her to be the one. after the conversation with jake yesterday, she was the last person you would have ever assumed. he sends you a flying look that he’ll explain everything later, shushing you off before you speak out loud.

“yunie,” your ears perk up at her voice, eyes narrowing in a deadly stare at the nickname you exclusively call him with, leaving her crusty mouth. certainly, like jake you blossom a definite possession over names too. perhaps it's the effect of living with him 24/7 but you seem to have picked up a lot of his antics.

jake’s eyes shift to look at you for a moment and then he’s running a hand through his hair, dropping his sweet conduct to get back into his usual cold fuckboy self. he absolutely does not like the way your brows turn down and the pretty smile you were previously adorning for him falling off your pretty lips. he can tolerate anything but seeing you bothered in any way. “you’re still here? it's better if you leave soon, candy doesn’t like all this,” walking around her to the other side of the counter and into the kitchen to open the upper cabinets, jake ignores her like a plague as if he wasn't showing her heaven last night. but alas, nothing comes above you, she should have known that.

“what do you want for breakfast candy? should i make you some toast? or do you want your usual dose of sugar?” his palms rest on the granite countertop, leaning against it slightly while turning to fix his gaze on you. it makes eunsang rage with anger, throwing you a demeaning look before she disappears into jake's room.

the moment his bedroom door closes, you feel the unfamiliar weight on your shoulders relax a tad bit,“my watermelon slush please,” finding your cozy spot on the kitchen counter, you give him your most adorable pout feeling like you had to gain back his warmth after the hookup. your legs dangle over the height between, toes softly brushing against jake's calves every two seconds. watching him prepare your drink, you decide to voice out the thing that had been disturbing since the moment you walked out your room,”did you like make a friends with benefit kind of arrangement or something?” it comes out in a low whisper, afraid if you said it too loud it'd come true. the thought of it disturbs you for some reason, it’s not new for you to see random girls in your apartment; or to hear them while they’re at it. yet it still gives you a sort of uneasy feeling, something you do not like feeling.

“it was a last time kind of deal actually,” he stops briefly to give you a quilty smile. finishing your sweet slushy just as eunsang hastily steps out, wearing what you assume her clothes from the previous night. she slows down to observe as jake hands you the cup, repulsively watching you take a sip,“is it good?” hearing him speak in a tone way different than the one she’s acquainted with him using with her has stomp her way out in a grumpy fit.

looking up from the edge of your cup with hopes to give her a sly stare, your eyes follow her figure, flinching silently when she bangs the door close harshly,“bitch,” you comment, hooded orbs shifting back to jake who scowls in disapproval,”language candy,” he reminds, knowing very well it does nothing to stop you.

“sorry yunie but she's so agressive, and for what?” you whine.

“from what i’ve seen, you’re way more aggressive,” jake laughs softly, index finger coming to poke at your cheek tenderly.

with full cheeks, you grin like a cheshire cat and jake feels his heart rate speeding up, who gave you the permission to be the cutest person he's ever known? the urge to kiss you just keeps growing with each passing day and with with each little sneaky smile and doe eyes you give him.

“we need to get the groceries this week, i have after classes soccer practice for the next four days and we're not gonna last that long,” the thought of spending the next four evenings alone in the unit is gloomier than the half assed ham and cheese toast jake makes for himself. if only you said yes to some proper breakfast, his taste buds and stomach wouldn't be suffering so much.

you nod as if he has eyes on his back, knowing well he's gonna want you with him but not force you, if you'd say no. whatever you want, is whatever he does.

“‘m gonna go take a shower first then,” hopping down, you place your empty mug in the sink, and skip to your room to take your bath supplies.

“let’s shower together,” jake's friskiness thrives in the way he shouts with an undertone of mischief. watching you with a teasing gaze as you step out the threshold of your bedroom door. a tiny smirk spreading onto his lips when you scrunch your nose in a grimace. cute, he mouths thinking you wouldn't notice but god you do. he's clearly joking but you can’t help feeling flustered internally. keeping up with his flirty and touchy stunts and tricks should have made it easier for you by now, but over a year in and you're yet to find yourself getting used to it. he’s too attractive and hot to get used to; at least that’s what excuse your brain gives you, which honestly is true to some extent. his looks score a lot of points and you can't deny that.

“and if we get locked in there, who’s gonna get us out? you know the door lock has problems,” you complain in a soft groan which, in his eyes is more adorable with the little annoyance you show. if you think you could ever intimidate him, you probably will because he'll melt right away to even think of a counter back.

his stance straightens at that, a fleeting look of flabbergast clouding his face before he’s breaking out in a taunt of smile, eyes closing in on you in a brazen look,“so does that mean if the lock was fine you’d actually shower together with me,” he feels this triumph of emotions, a sudden rush of sugar at the realization that'd probably maybe perhaps someday let him get in the shower together with you. the sheer excitement he experiences through his veins is over the roof, just the possibility of something so intimate with you is a bite of golden spoon for him.

he purposely stops all he’s doing to stare at you, moving his eyebrows cheekily, trying to provoke you,“i never said that,” you stick your tongue out at him, closing the door in a soft slam and crying out a ‘you’re sick in the head!’

“only for you!” jake yells back, chuckling to himself as he leaves the room.

two hours later you’re both strolling through the isles of shelving, bright florescent lighting, end displays of popular products, sale signs, banners with store mottoes, isle signs with product locations, rows and rows of household products and everything you'd always spend lots of time looking through until jake has to drag you back home.

he pushes the cart while you look around for items to throw in and cross out one by one from your checklist. the way you both discuss and bicker over what to keep in the cart and what not to every two minutes will lead any sane person to conclude you as a couple. you both would also admit it feels as such. how he insists on taking what you like while you argue that you’re on a diet and need to cut down on the consumption and desires of your sweet tooth. it feels sweet, he feels sweet. and you make him want to coddle you so bad, like what do you mean you're on a diet? you're perfect already. too perfect for him.

“i’m taking the pop tarts!” you hear him shout from two or probably three Isles away while you look through some new make up launches,”…okay fine!” capturing the attention of an old couple who glance at your way and mutter something you don’t quite catch but you assume it’s probably about how annoying you both are, shouting at the mart.

“yunie look these are so pretty,” you point at the line of lipgloss as jake comes over with cart. he hums in agreement, watching you scan through the shades in an animated mood, mumbling over the names and speaking of how it'd look good for an everyday look or with summer dress you recently got. oh how smitten he feels, observing the way you seem so pumped up simply over gloss.

“there's no mirror— “

“try it on me,” oh he's bewitched under your spell.

jake stands still as you apply the mauve on him, staring at you through hooded eyes,”oh, this one’s really pretty on you!” you beam, looking up at him as if he could see it too.

“it'd look prettier on you,” he's hardly able to whisper out, gaze trained on the way you part your lips while you wipe it off his and apply another. if he didn't have a strong self control, by now he would have shoved his tongue down your throat in the dirtiest and messiest kiss you'd ever known. knocking your breath out, as well as his. he's already on the verge of losing it with every little touch you leave on his lips, wetting your own as a habit.

“which one should i take?” you ask something cutely, jake almost feels guilty for the thoughts swimming in his head.

“i’ll buy all of it for you, we can do something like a chapstick challenge you know. the one where you kiss and guess the flavor,” he teases loving the tiny exasperated glare you throw him. “yunn, be serious! which one?”

“these two?” he points to ones you commented were pretty feeling impatient at the conjured up image of you wearing the colors on with you tiny, sexy little sundresses you got hidden in your closet. please feel guilty man he thinks.

in the end jake (successfully) convinces you to continue your diet later over the summer break offering to help you with it. and grabs a bunch of packets of your favorite snacks, your favorite brand’s watermelon lollipops and not to forget the fruit itself. checking all out he insists on carrying everything himself, only handing you the little bag that held your lollies in case you'd want one on the way back.

the subway is more crowded than usual, scarcely any seat left. it takes you a whole minute to scan around for an empty one, immediately encouraging jake to take it. a silly game of rock paper scissors to decide who stands, insisting firmly that he sit when you end up winning. the grocery bags rest by his foot and you stand between his legs, holding onto the bar wobbling every now and then. it’s just one stop left when jake suddenly pulls you onto his lap, adjusting you comfortably on his thighs and placing his hands on your legs possessively. you turn to look at him, lashes brushing against his skin and lips parting in the slightest at the adrenaline you feel pumping into your fast beating heart. the muscles in his chest feel firm at the faint touch of your back against him, the thumping of his own heart similar to that of yours.

he leans closer to whisper in your ear,“that creep right there kept staring you up and down,” pointing with a discreet move of his eyes as he drills holes through his stern gaze fixed on the said guy. you on the other hand, grow hot with irritation, perhaps just as hot and bothered you are feeling jake pressed so close. an abrupt and sharp impulse of anger.

“i’ll show him the fuck he was staring at," you mutter out, teeth gritted, and hands almost forming into fists, expression as innocent as always. jake seems to catch on to what you’re about to do and before you can get up from lap, his hold on you gets tighter,"okay, i know you hate this candy, but i don’t want you getting hurt in any way, if he does anything i’ll make sure to set him right, for now i think he got it that he’s not gonna stare at you however he wants,” hand grabing yours in gentle caresses along the expanse of your arm. delicate and slow like a soothing rub. his touch just as enticing and stimulating it is, is also calming, knowing exactly how to pacify your hot headedness. jake finds that really hot about you, the way you look like you couldn't harm a bug but he's seen you throw kicks and punches (for the right reasons) ‘looks like a cinnamon roll, could kill you’ he never knew that's his type. sometimes and really only some rare times he wonders if you're not as innocent as he thinks you are, getting rock hard at the thought of it, dick twitching multiple times imagining you saying and doing things that an angel like you shouldn't be.

for the rest of the ride he manages to lull you back to your sweet candy mode, making you laugh at his lame pick up lines, and occasionally tickling your sides. head falling back into his shoulder in cute giggles and hips rolling on him, damn only he knows how bad he's holding back. as shameless as he is he'd probably jump your bones right infront of everyone to see. thankfully you bring the decency in your relationship.

when your stop comes, he intertwines his fingers you as you walk out the compartment, just in case you decide to give the dude a slap before leaving.

“'m gonna flatten out all your abs today, you'll need to gym again,” jake chuckles, feeling you roll over his body like mei’s lint roller as he lays on your favorite fluffy kuromi rug typing away on his laptop an essay deadlined for tomorrow. the weight of your body on and off and the touch of your hot skin he feels funsies,“you do this all the time, candy and my abs have never left. how can i let them? knowing how much you love it,” reaching behind to hold you still on his back. you are glad he can't see the way your cheeks warm up at that, a bashful look on your face remembering all the times he's caught you ogling at his body.

“why are you sulking?” he asks when you don't respond with a whine like you usually do. aware that you behave this way either when you’re over the top bathing in happiness or dissatisfied with something.

“’m gonna gain weight now because of you, i’ll see all the snacks and sweets in the pantry and not be able to resist binge eating,” you lightly punch at the curve of his shoulders, dropping your head into the crook of his neck in a pout. jake turns around swiftly to hold you in a hug, wanting nothing more than to cheer you up,“i love your belly anyhow, whether it’s visible or not,” giving the plump flesh of your stomach a zephyr-like pinch. you wince playfully drawing back inches to tease him only to drop down into his arms to hug him back seconds later,“yeah whatever,” his words make you feel butterflies, a turmoil of frenzy and fuzzy feelings, cheeks growing warm once again, and the warmth spreading all over your mind this time. why does he have to be so sweet to you?

you both stay like that for a while breathing slowly, and taking in the comfort of a hug, the room saturated with a restful and serene silence. you’re the first to pull away,“you should finish that essay, i have to prepare for my test next week,” jake groans at the loss of your touch, wailing out with his hands as you leave the room.

”i’m joining you as soon as i finish this!”

four days later on the weekend, you sit on the couch alone, wrapped in the thin lilac charmeuse blanket jake got for you (he said it the softness of it, reminded him of you.) waiting for your him to join you. eight in the morning with ‘tangled’ running on the tv, it's not something jake would ever want to do, but he gives in because you like it; bonus sometimes when you get a little sleepy, he grabs the chance to cuddle you as close as he can, leaving a few fluttering kisses on your temple and cheeks. he's grateful you never say anything about it and just let him be.

“yunie, can you pass me the watermelon in the fridge? the one from yesterday,” you spare a quick glance towards jake as he walks out his room. his headset rests loosely around his neck, half naked, wearing only a pair of sweatpants and his black hair all dishevelled: looking even more messier due to the perm he got last week. “yeah sure,” the rasp in his voice as he mumbles out softly gives away the fact that he probably stayed up all night again.

taking the half a piece of watermelon out and grabbing a spoon, jake scoops out a small little portion. going up to your slouched figure on the couch, and extending it out for you to eat,“here you go, candy,” he does it quite often, infact he loves to feed you. seeing your cheeks full and your eyes sparkling makes him feel fond as much as it turns him on. picturing you the same way on your knees between his legs with his dick stuffed in your mouth. choking and gagging on him, tears dropping down your pretty eyes while you stare up at him with this same doe look. it'd be heaven. even more so if he would have to teach you how to do it right, further fueling the massive corruption kink he seems to have harboured after meeting you.

he passes you melon after you take the bite, sitting beside you with his legs crossed. eyes trained on the way you fill in more in your mouth than you can handle, face all round and full,”eat slowly,” he flicks at your forehead.

“do you want to go buy a new sofa at ikea tomorrow? this one’s pretty small,” he adds a minute later, raising his brows subtly.

“well, first of all i didn’t plan to have a roommate and secon- i swear if it’s for your hook-ups i’m kicking you out!” it comes out in a yell, voice raising with every syllable before you spit a seed at him. one that due to your bad aiming skills instead of landing on his face, falls and sticks to the skin of his chest. damn those muscles they get you feelings things you probably shouldn't be.

putting away the watermelon on your tea table, you pick up mei and settle her on your lap, pulling back your blanket which had slipped off in a crackle of laughter,“this is public space have some decency before you have such thoughts!”

“stop making me appear like a horndog!” he laughs along, whinning at your false accusations in giggles and a look of faux disbelief.

“well that is exactly what you are!” you throw the closest cushion at his face. grinning with your signature cutesy doe eyes and jake is a goner. he always is.

“no don't do this me,”

“change the sheets then, it's your turn this week,” turning away from him, you fix your eyes on rapunzel climbing down the tower. trying to avoid the way he stares at you with betrayal, immediately scooting over to tickle you.

“you cheeky liar it's your turn,” his hands glossing over your ticklish areas.

“i love you,” in a fit of uncontrolled giggles, you shout. pushing against him to escape only to have your wrists pulled away, held together in a tight grasp and pinned above your head. “candy! i love you is not gonna get you out of chores come on i'll help you. we'll watch tangled later. together, i promise,” his laughter dies down with every word he utters, whispering out the last part as he becomes aware of the proximity between you two. so close you both think, breaths slowing down and heartbeats picking up the pace with each passing second.

“we're doing this okay?” jake whispers again, albeit, his tone a tad bit more heavy and bothered. an ambiguous daze clouding over, as if he is talking about something entirely different than just changing sheets. a twinge of lust bubbling inside. having you under him like this makes him realize just how desperately he wants you, and how bad his strength kink blooms for you. to have you whimpering and moaning, gaze all hazy as you let him do whatever he wants with you. damn he feels his dick twitch at that, gulping nervously hoping you wouldn't notice.

“you look like eugene,” you mumble out suddenly and jake feels his thirst rise off the roof, because the size difference between the characters? he wouldn't deny he thought of you the first time he saw the animation. wanting you have you in his arms the same way.

“then you must be my rapunzel,” you feel even more flustered if that's possible, your stomach twisting and twirling at his words until,”now come on we gotta keep the house clean for mother gothel,” jake let's his grip on you loosen, taking a moment to get off you.

“yunie!”

“i'll make you some sweet soy-glazed potatoes too later,” he voice drowns out as he enters you bedroom first.

“well i guess it's okay then,” you giggle following after him.

“candy that's not how you tuck in the corners,” jake scolds you for nth time, running after you to fix the edges you mess up deliberately time and again. “hey! candy! get down!” you make it a chaos for him, jumping onto the unmade bed and messing up the sheets all the way.

“oops,” there's a devilish grin on your face as jake pauses to watch you have your sugar rush episode.

“if you wanna wrestle again and end up under me, just say so,” he teases, inching closer and grabbing you by the waist. you both laugh again as if you weren't dripping with need for each other just moments ago. he picks you up and walks to the door putting you down by the sill,”i seriously need to get this done, you go and peel the potatoes for me,” you can't cook for the sake of god and letting you use knives is like a deathwish, jake can only hope peeling will keep you busy and safe enough to not end up with cuts anywhere.

the doorbell rings just as you step into the kitchen, walking back to the front in a sluggish sigh. feeling utter regret for answering the door, the instant you notice the figure outside. not wanting to reveal the presence to jake, you shut the door behind.

he peeps out your room at the sound of it, shrugging it off as nothing because you’ve done it lot many times: when your friends show up because you simply don’t want them to fall under his radar as prey.

you spare an indifferent glance at the way eunsang stands tall; hands folded with a cocky look on her rather gorgeous face. she's a beauty and you hate to admit that, a vibe so opposite of you it makes you insecure considering jake's hooked up with her more than a few times. “i’m here to see jake,” she states, tilting her head to point over at the closed door, all the sugary honeyed act she keeps up around him nowhere to be seen.

“and he doesn’t want to see you, didn’t he tell you it was the last time,” you counterattack, folding your arms and straightening up to look intimidating. your stare is one of taunt, carrying a gaze of boredom in hopes to establish that you're one to reckon with.

“are you jake? i said i want to talk to jake not you,” her heels click in impatience and underlying disgust in the tone she uses with you gets on your nerves.

you close your eyes for a moment trying to calm the annoyance in you before it turns into anger, tongue poking at the side of your cheek, “and are you deaf? i said he does not want to talk to you,” assert dominance, assert dominance you repeat over and over in your head.

but what she says next makes you lose your temper.

jake, the very epicenter of it all, on the other hand has no idea of what's going on outside until there's a scream that sounds too much like you, one turning into many more. it's frantic and inhumane, the speed at which he runs out. dropping everything and anything. there in broad daylight he finds you and eunsang trying to rip each other's hair out in the thankfully empty hallway. he doesn't know if he should be worried more about your scalp hurting or your throat tearing from how loudly you scream over eunsang. his hands flail as he contemplates on breaking the fight or letting you calm down, which you probably won't as he knows. he grabs onto eunsang's hands on your head trying to loosen her grip on your hair, concerned over the pain you must be feeling while you're there now trying to kick her between her legs. she's shocked to say the least, watching him latch you off her in a swift motion and throw you over his shoulder. he takes you back inside quickly, groaning at your fists pounding against his back in a protest,”fucking let go of me! i’m gonna give her a good piece of my mind!”

“candy language!” putting you down by the kitchen softly, he grasps the side of your arms and forces you to look into his eyes,“stop fighting all the time, stay here i’ll talk to her, okay?” he speaks slowly as an attempt to calm you. when you wiggle off in a scornful shrug, he asks again, this time moving to cup your face, a tender look in his eyes,“okay?” you nod in a defeated sigh and he's out the door before you can say anything else. you're upset, really upset, you know what you did outside was not decent yet you can't get over the fact that he left you in here to go back to talk to her. he was on your tail last week trying to beg you to help him get rid of her and even shooed her out the unit harshly, what more is there to talk about?

truth to be told, this was how he first met you, or should he say saw you. it was the move in day, he had all the necessities for the week packed in a travel suitcase, with the other stuff to be brought in later on. he was waiting for the elevator in the lobby, more tense and anxious than ever to meet the girl he was going to be living with a good four years of his college life. hoping she'd not treat him like some stranger, or be someone impossible to get close to hash live with. along with little bits of curiosity and hopes again, that she'd be a pretty and sweet girl maybe someone help could form some kind of benefits with.

however never in a million years did he ever expect it to be the cute yet fierce girl in the elevator. to say he was flabbergasted would be an understatement, he was literally blown off his feet, scared or impressed, his confusion was massive. when the doors of the elevator had opened he had found you slapping a middle aged man,”fun? you think groping my butt ‘s fun, you sicko,” kicking him in the balls next. hard. jake had gulped at that, hard. heart on a pause. the look of feigned innocence on your face as you did all that. damn jake swears it was that moment he fell. maybe not romantically but you definitely got his dick hard.

you looked super cute, and you knew how to fight, jake thought he hit the jackpot when you turned out to be his roommate. pretty you were, definitely, and sweet wasn't even a question; you were sweet to him and you are a lot of sweet. the only thing that remains a mystery till now is if you'd taste as sweet. jake hopes he can find that out.

he returns a few minutes later, lips pursed in a small smile as he shuts the front door. it grows even wider when his eyes find you,“so your soy glazed potatoes,” he chuckles walking over to the kitchen and getting other things out.

“she called me a slut for living with a guy like you and i was in the midst of giving her a lecture on actually how good of a person you are-” you bang on the counter with a thud and turn around to face him,“and you dragged me in!” whinning in a pout that looked as upset as your furrowed brows.

jake glances over in amusement, halting to give you another grin as he boops your nose gently,“my darling candy, i’m only good to you,” the glare you throw his way only makes him snicker with adoration. the little flicker of bashfulness you feel making you break out in a smile which (thankfully, for you) jake doesn't notice.

“whatever, i’m gonna take a long shower. do not disturb me!” you leave in a rush afraid if you stay too long he'd see it all on your face.

ten minutes later, as you tiptoe to get your favorite shower gel from the shelf above the mirror, luck decides to remind you why you shouldn't ever stay away from jake sim. feet slipping on the wet floor, body colliding against the cold tiles in a thud loud enough to have jake come running.

“candy, you're okay? what happened? should i open the door? ‘m coming in,” his voice is laced with worry, snapping open the door to find you laying flat down, though to his relief not unconscious. he picks you carefully, bringing you to your room and seating you on the edge of the bed to check for any injuries. hands delicately caressing all over and asking if it hurts any where,”you're so clumsy, always getting me worried like shit,”

“language,” you giggle, trying to make him laugh and it works.

“sorry, just please be careful, okay?” his fingers brush back your hair as you give him a small nod,“do you feel pain anywhere?” another nod, and this one ticks his alarms.

“where!” your fingers reach out to press against the brooding crease between his brows, attempting to remove the frown from his face. and jake melts at that, feeling his heart flutter at your cuteness, god he loves this side of you so much.

“you little demon, look what happens if you don't shower with me,” laughing out together, oh how he wishes it were like this forever. and jake sim has never thought of a forever ever before.

a month passes by in the blink of an eye, your routines and relationship staying the same as always, classes, his soccer practice and your weekly cleaning day. but what seems to have changed is his routine of bringing over girls, the number alarmingly cutting down day by day (which currently sits at zero) and what you haven’t noticed- his display of affection towards you growing more and more. yet you think nothing special of it, assuming that perhaps now he got a grip over himself. which is partially true. jake thought of you as deserving someone better, so it was only right that he became better. and what better way than to start with quitting the position of campus’ resident fuckboy.

after an all nighter the previous day, coming back from your classes you get straight to bed. changing you clothes and getting tucked under the blanket from around eight in the evening. jake returns from his soccer practice later, unaware of the fact that you're already passed out. opening your door to let you know of his night out plans,“candy, i’m gonna go out with jay and sunghoon! make sure to have your dinne- oh you were sleeping? i didn’t know i’m so sorry candy,” he mumbles out in a soft whisper towards the end, supressing a smile watching your sleepy figure under the covers. trying to rub out the drowsiness from your eyes; heavy blinking and a small pout, his cute girl.

“it’s okay no need to get up, go back to sleep, i’ll be back in the morning,” approaching the bed as you lay back down, he pats your head in a 'sleep well’ before leaving.

it's probably past midnight when you wake up to constant ringing of calls. fumbling around for your phone in a daze only to find a dozen calls from an unknown number and a bunch of texts from the same. it's jay, asking you to get jake from the bar they're at. saying the guy's refusing to go back with anyone that's not you: whining for your presence and making it hard for his two friends.

'where is my candy?’ jay and sunghoon are sick and tired of hearing it all night.

by the time you get him back to the apartment, it's three and your bones hurt from the weight of his body leaning all over you. it doesn't help that all he does is giggle and throw himself over you. there's been a lot of times you have seen him drunk, probably more than a dozen, but he's never looked as wasted as today. sunghoon told you it's because he drank way more than usual, and unbeknownst to you that you are the sole reason, you wonder of the things that plague his mind to the extent of drinking so much.

dragging him into his room you have him sit on his bed, going through his closet and getting him a pair of sweatpants and the first shirt you can grab. “come on yunie, get changed,” you hand him the clothes, turning away when he takes everything off nonchalantly. even though he likely would rather want you to look, from the many times he's said it before ‘why’re you looking away, candy it's all for you,’ his exact words. the bane of your existence.

after he's changed, you wipe the sweat off his body with a wet towel as much as you can. giving him a glass of water before leaving for your room when he grabs your wrist and stops you with his puppy eyes.

in the morning, around noon jake is the first one to wake up and having no memory of the previous night besides the fact that he was drunk. he sits at his desk chair, hands in his hair, watching you sleep on the other side of his bed, clad in his shirt. it’s like he feels everything is over and done from here. he did what he swore never to do, this was the very first thing he pinned on his mind as an important note: not using you even if he has very obvious feelings for you. he tugs on his hair in frustration, angry at himself for not staying in his lane when drunk. with his head hung in guilt, he doesn't notice you stirring awake, sitting up at the sight of his hunched figure.

“yun? are you okay? is the hangover severe? should i make you something for it?” startled at your soft voice, he flinches visibly. a thousand scenarios running through his mind and not one ends up good.

“you don’t even know any hangover recipes,” jake mumbles almost inaudibly.

“i can just search on the internet and try my best, it’s not like i’ll give you anything inedible,” you teaee, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere you feel in the air.

it takes him a moment to speak again, sounding as miserable as he has never before,“candy i’m,” he halts, gulping to hold back the lump in his throat,“i’m sorry, i really didn’t mean to, i don’t why i, it's all my fault,” he stops again, leaving you confused and dumbfounded,“what are you saying? what apology?” it is when his eyes shift to stare at what you’re clad in, staying there for a hard minute when you get a rough idea of what he could be thinking of. your cheeks grow hot at the realization, shaking your head when unholy images pop up in your subconscious.

but the butterflies fly away just as fast as they came as his words dawn uppn you. even if it didn’t happen the fact that he wouldn’t mean it, want it, regret it has something in you twisting in pain, are you so bad? or that he actually really thinks of you as his little sister? that you read his affections wrong, assumed his feelings differently? your heart breaks more than a little at that.

“why? is it because i’m not like the others you have been with? because i’m not like eunsang? or because i’m not her? the one you were smiling so hard after talking to? are you dating he-”

“that’s the problem! you’re not like her! you’re not like anyone i've known before! you’re special and i’m afraid i’ll lose you, things will change and just i’ll have to get over you without even getting a chance,” it's the first time he's ever raised his voice at you, and the first time ever he's sounded so desperate, weak and dejected. so vulnerable.

the split moment of sadness dissipates with every word that sinks in. the revelation of a(n after)drunk confession. the fact that you're a different kind of special to him, that he would want a chance to be with you, that he's afraid to lose you. you supres the urge to laugh when it all settles into your understanding. having a better grasp over the bigger picture. your steps are slow and calculated as you walk over to him, sitting across his lap and cupping his cheeks in a fleeting breath of courage. his eyes almost bulge out when you brush your lips lightly against his, mumbling softly,“nothing happened, but if you still want i can give you a chance, it’s going to be hard though tolerating me, think wisely,” you giggle and jake malfunctions for an instant before grabbing you in a tight hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“of course, of course i do want it, i’ve always wanted it,” chanting out in a trance.

“your lips tasted like watermelon,” he mutters out some time after, eyes locking with yours in an intense pull. still in a daze that out of all the bad things that could've happened it was none. literally none plus you perhaps wanting him just as much as he wants you.

“i had some in the morning before you woke up, anyhow yours taste like alcohol and your breath is horrible, go and freshen up,” you push at his shoulder, getting off him to leave the room to cook something. probably (as you said) a recipe searched up on the web, hopefully edible enough for a hungover person.

when he comes out later, all showered and back to the jake you know: the one who likes his hair slightly messy and almost never in a shirt. “why were- are you wearing my shirt then?”

“you practically begged me to last night while sobbing for i don’t know what reason,” he's a bit flustered at that, but hey, it's what got him here, you gotta do what you gotta do.

“candy, you wanna go out tonight? jay and sunghoon wanted to hang out but i don't wanna leave you so i said i’d bring you along,” jake asks, knocking at your door.

it takes you a little over a minute to open up but jake's does not mind it at all for obvious reasons, his jaw comically falling to the floor when you walk out in your tiny little blue sundress and the shade of lipgloss he was dying to see you in. you're unreal.

“yes! i heard you on call earlier,”

“oh my god candy, gimme a princess twirl,” the amount of desire he feels for you right now is unfathomable. biting his lips at the sight of your lace panties underneath that faintly flash him in the mini twirl you do. can you get any hotter?

“just fifteen minutes and i'll be ready,” he got ten minutes to do something about the boner he just popped, and it's more than enough to have him rub one out with what he just saw. maybe add a little hint of imagination and wondering what you'd sound like if he were to touch you down there. especially given the fact that the likelihood of it happening were through the roof now. you almost kissed last week, anything could happen at this point. and jake's dick gets impossibly sensitive at the odds of it.

at the restaurant, jay and sunghoon sit in an awkward silence, watching you both be all over each other. when they agreed for jake to bring his girl along, they didn't expect it to be so bad.

“um jake talks a lot about you,” sunghoon says trying to start a conversation that he knows probably wouldn't go anywhere.

“he does? that's so sweet,” you smile, giggling over something jake whispers in your ear, his hand palming over the plush of your exposed thighs,”what do you wanna eat?” sunghoon nerves feel boiled at the way jake completely skips over his attempt to talk to you. while jay sips at wine, agonizingly slow knowing this is how it's gonna be from now on. their friend is a changed man.

“i have this picture of jake from middle school, you'd love to see it i promise,” a little tipsy, sunghoon's persistence to put himself in the equation albeit admirable, annoys the fuck out of jake, scowling at the other well of aware of the so called picture he wants to share.

“jay man, take care of him. candy and i are going home,” jake gives them a tight lipped smile, holding your rather drunk self (it's just wine you had said)

“see you later ca- y/n,” at first jay leans in for a friendly hug but— nevermind. the way jake stares at him is scarily weird.

jake makes sure to have you sit on the couch before he leaves to get you water but you're sprawled out on the floor when he comes back. mumbling something about how cool the tiles feel against your skin,”come on you should drink some water,” jake pulls you up on your ass, sitting cross legged on the floor beside you. his hand softly holds the back of your head as he brings the glass to your mouth.

“alright say, what did you wanna say?”

“i wanna kiss you,” if jake thinks the pout on your lips is the cutest thing ever then the words you say must have to be the hottest thing ever. how can a simple word like kiss make his heart flutter so bad? and it's not even lust at this point.

he fulfils your wish without a thought, leaning in to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. sucking on your bottom lip a second long before he pulls away and boops your nose. no tongue and no other intentions. the after taste of your gloss lingering in his mouth.

“let me tell you a secret,” you whisper out, moving over to his lap, knees on the floor each side.

“i knew you stole my kuromi panties,” he's shocked you know about it, he made sure to be extra careful with it, though his nasty ass was internally hoping you'd catch him.

“mhm, i do have it with me but it's not really wearable now,” he did not see this becoming something sexual but the moment you brought up the panties, you might as well have brought up his dick. man practically re-lived every single time he used it to jerk off, all those orgasms coming to life at once.

“you need to punished!” you whine,

“what do you wanna do?” and jake feels his dick get harder at that.

“can we kiss again?” oh my god, you make him feel so fuzzy and horny at the same time, it's unbelievable. in the guide of jake sim: to make him horny is relatively easy, to get him all fuzzy is once in a lifetime and to get him both at the same time is impossible. yet you do it so effortlessly.

jake answers you with his lips against yours again, relishing in the feeling of them on his own. all those times he wondered of how it'd feel like to kiss you seemed so lame now that he actually did. no imagination could ever come close to way he feels right now. his hand comes up to cup the side of your neck, his grip firm as he pulls away for a moment,”i wanna love you so much and take you on cute little dates and buy you all the food you want and fuck you so hard you only remember my name,”he mumbles against your lips in a bit whisper, letting you take a breath before he dives right back in. this time he lets his tongue slide in, rubbing against your own for a short while only to pull back and go for another trying to keep your lips pressed together for as long as he could. finally pulling away when he feels you push against him a little too roughly, a crawl of shudders all over his skin at the roll of your hips against his bulge.

“wan’ you to fuck me too,” you whine, this time desperately.

“fuck candy, you're drunk we shouldn't be doing this,” he reminds, failing miserably to hold himself back. his hands keep twitching to just grab your hips and grind you down on his dick until you're both cumming together.

“i’m not, i swear. i just drank a little because i couldn't have done this all sober,” even through the layers of clothes, jake can feel your neediness dropping with the way you roll your hips harder against him. speeding up when you think he's pushing you away, but he's just grabbing you closer by the waist. he can't deny how wanted he feels right now, feeling like he'd explode any second. the fuck were you so horny for him?

“are you sure this is okay?” he asks again. no matter how bad he's dying to fuck you, he'll never do it if you don't to.

“‘s okay, please yunie,” you feel his hands slide along your thighs and in between your legs. fingers faintly brushing over the wet patch on your panties in a sharp inhale. he grazes two fingers against your clit, testing the waters. rubbing harder when he feels your breathing pick up it's pace, switching to spank your clit impossibly fast having lost control at the sound of your wanton whimpers.

“don’t move and take it baby,” jake growls, pushing you flush against his chest, making your back arch more and more into him. tits bouncing right up in his face as he bends down to nibble as the exposed skin between them.

he stops for a moment only to push your panties to the side and touch you raw. rubbing rougher and so intense, your legs feel number from pleasure,”has anyone touched you like before?” his jaw clenches hard, eyes dark with want as they remain fixated at the sight of his hands on your pussy. fuck he finally knows what touching you feels like.

“ngh— no, fuck!” and it boosts jake's ego through the roof, he doesn't think he's ever felt as horny as he feels right now. the thought of being the first to touch you in your princess parts, the first you have seen you putty like this, the first to be the one to get you like this. fuck, fuck, fuck! he feels so turned on it's literally inhumane. precum oozing out his tip with every twitch of his dick.

“mm, gonna put my fingers in you,” you feel one of jake's fingers press into you, sliding inside easily with how dripping wet you are. the pornographic moan you let out when he slowly slips in another and curves up has his dick twitch so damn hard he thinks he just came untouched. you sound so cute yet so fucking hot, his mind is in a spiral of everything he wants to do to have you moan like that again and again until you're so drunk on pleasure, you only want him all the time.

“shit you're so tight and warm, can't imagine how good you'd feel around my cock,” his eyes keenly hooked on the way you raise your hips to meet the thrusts halfway,”y-yun, ‘s feels too g-good ah,”

“fuck you're so hot and so perfect for me,” his words travel straight to your core having you clench tight around his fingers and all of a sudden you find your oragasm hitting you as violently as jake continues to run you through it, fast and painfully pleasurable. enamoured and obsessed with the way your doe eyes struggle to stay open, mouth parting in a loud whine, back arching and hips shooting up. god you're a piece of art and jake doesn't think he's ever gonna want anyone other than you.

he immediately stands up with you in his arms, walking over to the kitchen counter and placing you gently on the cold marble. his fingers run through your hair in a soft caress, tucking in the messy strands behind your ears,”you sure you want this? we can stop here if you want. just say the word and i’ll stop,”

“wan’ yun to be my first,” you whimper wearily, jake feels his heart skip a couple of beats. your first, he wants to be your last too and you to be his last.

”gonna make you cum so much harder on my cock,” he places his hands on your thighs in a tight grip and forces them apart fervently. he so damn wants to eat you out but he also wants to feel you cum around his cock, it's a hard choice to make but his cock feels so angry and heavy slick from all the precum he shot out each time you whimpered or moaned or whined, if he'd wait to get his dick wet he'd probably actually come untouched from your sounds and reactions alone. and only god knows(jay too oops) how bad jake sim wants the first time he cums with you to be deep inside you. so much so that he might develop a kink of getting you knocked up (nope you're too young for that!)

he takes his pants off in a snap, practically ripping his boxers along with it, grabbing his rock hard dick, throbbing and red at the tip and trusting into his fist a couple of times. breathing heavy at the way you watch him with your lips between your teeth. he wonders how good it'd feel to watch you touch yourself while he does the same, cumming together with your eyes locked. but he probably doesn't have that kind of self control to just watch you touch yourself, when he can do it himself?

he taps his tip against your clit for a hot minute sliding it along your folds in a strained groan. you're so embarrassing wet, it's like jake could shove himself inside immediately and your you'd hardly feel pain for a while. however, holding back his desires, he pushes into you slowly, holding your body close and stroking your back soothingly,”let me know when i can move,” a tender kiss at your forehead, trying to make sure you know you have the say it in.

jake groans as you give him the go seconds later,”mhmmm candy⁠— baby,” moaning soft and lustful as he pulls out till the tip and thrusts all the way in. your insides feel so warm and gummy, walls clenching around him crazy tight. he thinks he'll lose his mind and end up cumming embarrassingly fast like a teen getting pussy for the first time. the way he feels the pleasure throb in his veins so intense all over his body, it's almost numbing.

your hands loop around his neck, fingers scratching at his back as he pounds into you rough, his pace hard and fast pushing all his body weight against you.

“don't think i can ever get enough of you,”

the sight of the thin straps of your dress slipped to the sides, tits almost spilling out of the front gets jake going, fueling him to grab at you anywhere and everywhere his hands can possibly go,”tell me im dreaming fuckkk— i've wanted you for so long, can't count the number of times i've jerked off to the thought of having you like this, so pretty and dumb under me,” all those evenings when you roamed around the unit in the shortest shorts and the smallest crops, driving him mad shit insane, having to sneak off into the bathroom multiple times. fisting his cock hard, groaning and biting back his moans as he got off to the thought of you, while you sat all unaware and innocent on the other side of the wall.

he stops abruptly, pulling out in a frenzy and turning you around on your heels and pushing you by the back of your neck to lay against the cool granite. one hand going down to grab at your thigh and hook it up on the counter, drooling at the way your pussy glistens from the angle. he shoves his dick back in without a warning, feeling your ass collide against him harsh yet fervid.

you both pant in rasps when his cock hits a sensitive spot inside you. he shifts to angle himself just right to repeatedly brush against that spot and you mewl out loud at that, so loud your neighbours probably know what you're up to.

“fuck i can't stand not seeing your cute face,” jake bends over to grab you by your throat, pulling you up and flush against him, head resting back at his shoulders as he forces to look at him, fingers gripping your jaw softly,”eyes on me, okay baby?” grunting from deep within his chest, a wild grin on his face as he watches you get lost in ecstasy,”i’ll get you addicted to my cock,” just like how addicted he already is with your pussy and everything about you.

his other hand reaches up to tug the front of your dress down, groping up one of your tits, a silk touch to see your reaction. loving the way it's so obvious how sensitive you are there. mouth parting open with you in sensuous gasps as he twists your nipple harshly, rubbing the tip with his thumb. your walls clench a little too hard and your back arches off as you push your hips back into him, the tell tale signs of you getting close,”my baby's gonna cum for me?”

holding your jaw to have your eyes trained on him, he unexpectedly inserts his thumb in your mouth pressing against your wet tongue, your red swollen lips too tempting to resist,“fuck yes, show me how pretty you cum,” you mumble out a series of incoherent words in hazy chant.

the hand on your breast slips down to your lower abdomen pressing rashly against his bulge, feeling faint movement of his cock deep inside you. fuck you're so small and delicate. his hold on you tightening as his calloused fingers find your neglected bud, rolling it in quick, tight circles. it's so painful yet you feel so good, tears wailing down your cheeks as your orgasm crashes hard, overwhelming and violent, thighs trembling and pussy clenching uncontrollably. jake's continues to rub your clit, helping you ride out your high. eyes fluttering shut, and swallowing thickly at the sensation of you creaking over his sensitive length, cock throbbing impossibly hard.

jake refuses to stop even after you have come down,”one more candy, i know you can do one more for me,” hips hammering into you at full force, and lips finding yours in ragged breaths. and it dawns on you what exactly you have gotten yourself into when you feel the two of his fingers protruding at your entrance, trying to push in beside his cock,“if you try to close your legs i'm gonna punish you,” he warns making you whine into his mouth.

in a flash he turns your body to face his, quickly shoving his cock and fingers back into you. his other hand spanking the skin of your ass and kneading it a soft caress after. he eyes hypnotized at the view of you taking him in, a white ring of your cum adorning the base of his cock. he spits at your clit, once again toying with the engorged bud, pinching and flicking,”“gonna make you cum until you pass out, fuck i really wanna do that⁠—” your hand darts out to grip at jake's wrist, feeling too overwhelmed with hypersensitivity. wanting to shy away but the pleasure’s so good you can't bring yourself to push him away.

“but it's your first time,” jake mumbles between hoarse grunts.

before you can even realize it yourself your third orgasm courses through you vehemently. body jerking and twitching, almost falling over if not for jake's hold. jets of cum gushing out as you moan loud.

feeling you spill down his cock, all warm and tight, his brutal rhythm falters,”fuck- ‘m gonna cum,” eyes locking with yours as he thrusts once, twice and then stills, burying himself deep, streams of cum shooting out. hot spurt after spurt, swollen cock twitching against your walls. goosebumps all over, his legs quiver from how hard he came.

he stays quiet and motionless for a while, his arms wrapped around your shaking body. breathing in the scent of your shampoo, trying to calm his pounding heart and cock.

“you good candy? i’m sorry, i think i went a little rough on you,” you nuzzle into him in quiet,’its okay’ as he strokes your head, leaving fluttering kisses over your face. picking you up by the thighs he brings you to your bed, laying you down and gently pulling out. groaning at the way all your mixed cum oozes out, pretty little hole clenching around nothing.

exhausted, you let your mind drift, feeling the drowsiness kick in while jake bends between your legs with a wet towel. whining wearily, when his lips wrap around your nub in a suck, the wet sensation of his tongue against your clit like a shot of electricity,”sorry, baby just had to do that once,” he knew he didn't just call you candy for nothing and he was right. grining sheepishly as he wipes the rest of the cum off, cleaning you all up.

“you're nasty,” you manage to whisper out.

“only for you,” the touch of his body is hot and comforting, arms around your waist cuddling closely(and half naked).

“let's shower together in the morning, wanna eat you out so-”

“jake!”

“what? it's the truth!”

the following around four in the afternoon before jake has to leave for his soccer practice, you approach him on the couch, as always re-watching an episode of vincenzo. you haven't talked much about labels, but it's known to everyone that you're sorta together. more like jake is taken by you. his friends weren't too surprised to know about you both, it was obvious jake had the hots for you and from the little hangout at the restaurant they figured it all worked out for him.

“incoming, pocky!” you sit beside him with a banana flavored pocky stick between your teeth, leaning in teasingly.

“oh you want me so bad,” he plays along inch closer and biting it off in a snap, lips barely brushing against yours.

pulling you onto his lap with your back pressed into his chest, he locks you in place, chuckling at the way you attempt to escape. his fingers twirling the ends of your hair as you surrender in seconds, switching to watching the show absent-mindedly,”my parents wanted to meet you,” he drops the bomb, tracing random letters on your skin to distract of the fact that he just mention a meeting with parents.

“as my roommate, actually,” quickly adding the important point, fingers poking at your cheeks like jello.

“so suddenly though?” you think back on all the things you have ever done to him, for them to want to see you. perhaps they think of you as a snobby girl who’s indulging their son’s already unpleasant habits.

“they’ve actually been wanting to meet you for the past three months, i was putting it off but now summer break is starting next week and i have no more excuses to give,” hugging you, he rests his head on the curve of your neck, breathing in the smell of watermelon that surrounds you after you had basically devoured a whole at lunch. “if you don’t want to then you don’t have to, i’ll talk to them,” he assures, not wanting you to feel obligated to agree, or force yourself despite being uncomfortable.

“no it’s okay, we can go meet them. how long will the drive be?” fumbling with his red knuckles, your mind wanders off to when he fingered you, growing hot and embarrassed all of a sudden. hardly listening in on his answers.

when jake leaves for his soccer practice, you find time to complete the trivial chores around the house. watering the plants with a pout, missing jake more than ever. you have completely different majors and you are not in any clubs either to stay after classes. the only time you spend together being the one at the apartment which is also cut down by his frequent practice sessions, sometimes in the morning during weekends and normally most evenings on weekdays. it makes you ponder on whether you should try out for any club, after all these years doing something else besides studying. but you have no idea what you should consider, having no knowledge on which clubs you could be eligible to join.

it takes you two whole weeks and a bunch of outfit checks to find yourself on your way to meet jake's parents. feeling almost weird and exhilarating at how his parents and his older brother welcome you. treating you so well even though they recognize you as nothing more than just his college apartment roommate who helps fix his laptop and tolerates the boy knowing the kind of womanizer he is. appearing more as a meeting with in-laws when you jake and you are not even official yet, more so they have no idea of what's going between you two.

they try their best to make you feel at home. during the lunch as jake had told them beforehand, his mother had a few sweet dishes prepared for you, coddling you just as jake does back at your unit. they talk to you about casual things including your likes and dislikes, what major you are in, whether jake treats you well, if you have any complaints regarding his behavior. it doesn’t feel as awkward as you as thought it would and you didn't have to put on any act as you prepared yourself to do.

in the beginning of your roommate journey, his accent, his voice was the first thing to attract you but slowly as you explored his personality you came to like him for more than just what attracted you to him. now you as you spend time with people closest to him, you understand where he got it all from. the sweet person he is, which you never expected a fuckboy to be, you didn’t even have an ounce of hope that he’ll acknowledge your presence in the apartment when you got to know about his playing around conduct. yet he turned out to be the sweetest boy you’ve ever come around in your life ( and the nastiest perhaps, )

when you are sitting alone with his brother, while jake is away downstairs to bring you something sugary to eat, his brother takes it as a chance to share his thoughts,“you know until i heard him call you candy a while ago, i was under the impression that 'candy’,” he quotes it specially with a movement of his fingers,“is supposedly a cheerleader fling of his after i saw the contact name showing up when he got a call the last time he was here,” giving you a sly look as he catches sight of jake approaching,“turns out it’s you, i never knew he is the type to give such sweet, unique petnames,”

before you leave in the evening, jake makes sure to let them know that you’re toegther, and that he’s not playing around this time. he’s willing to give effort into it and change his usual ways of living, to be better for himself and as well as for you.

on your way there you had thought of a lot things, had a lot of assumptions and expectations. even prepared yourself to hear things that’ll stick to you not so positively. but what stays in your mind now is completely unexpected and opposite of what you had internally composed yourself for. it’s all you can think of in the car and after you’re back in the comfort of your familiar apartment.

cheerleader, not a bad idea—

“oh my god candy, you're gonna be the death of me!” jake pulls you away, dragging you to the back of the bleachers, his cock already rock hard and throbbing with need.

“don't you like it? i thought cheerleaders dressed like this,” you pout at him, fiddling with the ends of the literally shortest skirt of your closet.

“i love it baby, but you can't just show up to practice like that, how am i gonna be able to concentrate when all i can think of you is fucking you,” he groans scanning over your figure again and again, it's like you brought out a hidden desire he didn't even know he had. he'd win every game for you if you were to cheer by the stands like this, the adrenaline of getting to ruin your perfect outfit and your perfect makeup after, putting him on a winning streak.

“teach me to suck you off,” jake loses his mind when you get down on your knees, pushing your hair out of the way and looking up at him through your lashes, doe eyes driving him crazy.

“shit baby, i will,” oh he's so going to corrupt you.

#( 🍉 ) 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫!#enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #JAKE IS NASTY IN THIS ONE...#k-labels #enhypen jake smut #jake smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshots #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen drabbles #enhypen au #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours

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lyak12 · 5 months

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Just friends

Lucy Bronze x Reader

Summary: Lucy has been your girlfriend for three years already, but lately, she's spending more time with Ona than with you. Is she falling out of love with you?

Word count: almost 4.2k

A/N: I'm back with another Lucy fic:) Thanks to @helen-with-an-a for the inspiration:) I still have a few requests that I want to finish soon, but I'm currently swamped with uni stuff... so be patient with me. Also, there is a happy end cause my heart can't take pure Angst hahaha. I hope you enjoyy

Warnings: Anxiety, struggling with self-worth, concussion, vomiting, angsty in general, if I missed something lmk:)

Living in sunny Barcelona, playing for one of the best clubs in the world and all of that with the love of your life. A pretty perfect life one would say. Well, currently, you are feeling none of that.

You are insecure. You always have been, but normally, Lucy is quick to pull you out of that mindset. You’ve struggled with self-worth your whole life. Always thinking everyone is better than you. It has gotten better since you started dating Lucy over three years ago, but one of your biggest insecurities is still that she’ll get sick of you and leave you for someone better.

You know Ona is just a friend. She’s Spanish and they’re really close, so of course there will be lots of physical contact. You don’t mind that. You’re not jealous. You’re just scared Lucy will fall out of love with you and in love with Ona.

All the edits on Tiktok and insta were not helping. It got so bad that Lucy tried to block the hashtags on your accounts. It worked for a while but not long.

As Lucy spends the third afternoon in a row with Ona, you start to get even more insecure and a bit pissed to be honest. “Again? I thought we wanted to go to the beach today”, You ask a bit annoyed. “Am I not allowed to spend time with my friends anymore?”, Lucy asks defensive, not liking your tone. You just sigh and say, “Never mind, have fun”, you say and go into the bedroom.

Lucy doesn’t bother to come after you. You have been having the same discussion for days already. Lucy completely oblivious to the fact that your anxiety is bad at the moment, instead thinking you’re jealous. You change into some shorts and a crop top before going back into the living room, ready to take Narla to the beach instead. However, Narla is gone, too. Lucy must’ve taken her with her to Ona.

Great, you don’t even have your cuddle buddy now. Sighing again, you dry the tears that have escaped your eyes. You grab a hat and sunglasses and go to the beach on your own. Needing to spend your time somehow and the beach and ocean help clear your head.

You get home late, just needing the time to think. “Where have you been?”, is the first thing you hear when you get in before you come face to face with an angry Lucy and an excited Narla. “The beach”, you just say as you squat down to greet the dog. “Until now? You couldn’t look at your phone? I was worried out of my mind!”, Lucy asks loudly.

“I haven’t looked at my phone since I left the house”, you just say without looking at the brunette. “Y/N I’m talking to you! I was worried”, She says angrily. You flinch slightly at her tone. The tears you worked so hard to fight back threatening to escape. You look up and say “I’m sorry. I needed to think. I didn’t realize how late it was getting “, you say quietly, trying to stay busy with scratching Narla’s little belly.

“Next time, look at your phone”, Lucy just says and turns around before getting back to the couch. You cuddle Narla a bit longer, the Westie noticing the inner turmoil in you.

Eventually, you stand up and head into the living room as well. “How was your time with Ona?”, you ask quietly. “You gonna get jealous again if I say good?”, Lucy grumbles. “Lucy, I’m not jealous!”, you say defensively.

“Oh really? Then why are we having this same fight over and over again?”, she asks, looking at you. “Because you’re spending every free minute with her. It’s like you’re attached at the hip. I’m sorry I want to spend time with you too”, you argue.

“Yeah sure, that’s the reason. I’m sorry I’m spending time with my friends. Damnit, Y/N! It’s obvious you’re jealous, at least own up to it!”, Lucy yells, and that cuts deep. That sentence just lets something snap in you. “You want me to own up to it? Fine! I’m NOT fucking jealous Lucy! I’m scared. I’m scared you’re falling in love with Ona! I’m scared you’ll drop me as soon as she says yes”, you yell with tears streaming down your cheeks, letting yourself be vulnerable in front of Lucy.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous! Ona and I are friends, and that’s it! You should hear yourself. It’s absurd. Stop making a big deal out of nothing”, Lucy dismisses your fear. She has never done that before. She knows how your mind works and what she just said will make you spiral. Apparently, though, she doesn’t care.

You just look at her and dry your tears roughly. Giving her a nod before you head away from her. “Where are you going?”, Lucy asks, confused. She can see you’re still angry. “Why do you care? I thought I’m just being dramatic”, you snarl as she notices that her choice of words maybe were not the smartest.

“Y/N”, Lucy tries half-heartedly. “No. Not once have you treated me like this. You act like I’m not even here! You don’t pay attention unless I’m saying something about Ona. You know how much that hurts?”, you yell tearfully. “Now you’re exaggerating…”, Lucy says with an eye roll. You just look at her in disbelief and give her a nod. You swallow hard and say “I’m going to bed.”

With that, you leave her alone in the living room and head to the bedroom. Normally, you never go to bed angry. That is one rule that’s important to both of you. Well, tonight, the rule will be broken. By the time she comes to bed, you act like you’re asleep already. She still kisses your head, but you just pull away from her slightly.

You hear her sigh softly, but she doesn’t say anything. Eventually, you fall into a restless sleep.

As the alarm goes off the next morning, Lucy turns it off, and you just sigh. “Good morning”, Lucy says gently. “Morning”, you just grumble before you sit up with your back to her. “Seriously? You’re still pissed? Come on, it’s getting ridiculous”, Lucy says with an eye roll. You turn to her and say “Even if I wouldn’t be pissed anymore, I would be again after this comment. But yeah, of course I’m the ridiculous one. Because God forbid your stubborn brain could acknowledge that maybe you’re not as innocent as you tell yourself you are.”

You just get up and get into the bathroom. Lucy doesn’t say anything and just sighs. She really does not understand what your problem is. You get ready separately, but you’re not hungry, so you just grab a protein bar and gel to eat before practice.

The drive to the training grounds is quiet. You don’t say a word. Once in the locker room, you quickly change, but your teammates notice the tension between the two of you.

Mapi comes in just as you’re almost done changing. “Oh trouble in paradise?”, she asks with a slight tease. As an answer, you just grab your boots and drinks before walking out of the locker room.

Mapi just looks concerned at Lucy, the teasing smile wiped from her face. You normally enjoy Mapi’s teasing or at least chuckle slightly. “She’s been like that since we fought last night”, Lucy says with a soft sigh. “Last night?”, Alexia asks. Most of your team knew your rule to never go to bed angry. So as Lucy nods, most of them look concerned at each other. This has to be a bad fight.

Everyone can tell you’re not in the mood during practice. You play a lot more aggressively than usual. But not the type of aggressive that would hurt another.

You’re pushing yourself hard today, just needing to get out the frustration somehow. As you do a quick round of scrimmage halfway through practice, you run into the box to be on the end of a nice cross from Frido. However you’re a bit late, so you jump in at full speed, trying to find the ball and head it in. One of those flying headers Lucy is known for. Ona, however, is there to defend you, and since she’s running backwards, she doesn’t see you throwing yourself in for the ball.

You crash together, and the collision makes you hit the ball with your temple, unable to get it into the goal. You both land on the ground roughly, you a few feet away from Ona because of the speed you had come with.

You both groan for a moment, stars appearing in front of your eyes momentarily, your head throbbing. You close your eyes for a second, but as you hear Lucy’s voice, you open your eyes. However, her question, if you’re okay, is not directed at you. She is squatting next to Ona. That was it. Yes, Ona was lying closer to Lucy, but still.

“You okay?”, Frido asks you softly, and you just mumble “I’m fine.” You get up as Lucy walks up to you, resting a hand on your shoulder, but you immediately shrug it off and say “Don’t touch me. Don’t act like you care now.” The team has never seen you so angry. You just walk away from the brunette and make your way back to your position.

You high five Ona, not angry at her for the tackle. You squeeze the bridge of your nose slightly as you walk back. God, your head is throbbing. Your world is spinning, and you’re not feeling good at all. You try to shake it off, but Alexia can tell, so she rests a hand on your shoulder and asks “You okay, y/n/n?”

You don’t answer her trying to gather yourself. However, you only drop to all fours a few steps later as the dizziness becomes too overwhelming. “Y/N!”, Alexia yells and quickly waves the physios over.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?”, the Physio asks, and you can only mumble “Dizzy, head throbbing.” Your ears were ringing slightly as you struggle to keep your composure. They look into your eyes and can see that they are unfocused. “Where did you hit the ball?”, he asks softly, having an idea what might be going on.

Your hand moves to your temple and the spot right next to your ear as you almost lose balance and face plant the grass. The physios steady you, and he says, “Yeah, that might be a concussion, let’s get you off the field and checked out.”

“Let me help”, Lucy says, wanting to help you up. “No, please just leave me alone”, you shrug off her hands with tears in your eyes. Alexia steps in and pulls you to your feet before guiding you to the physio room.

“What happened between you? Talk to me”, Alexia asks on the way, knowing the tears are from the emotional pain, not the physical. “We fought badly. She’s been spending a lot of time with Ona lately and ditches our plans for her. You know I’m not jealous. I know they’re just friends, but I’m scared Lucy is starting to fall in love with her and just waits to drop me. However, she completely dismisses my concern, telling me I’m ridiculous and dramatic. I don’t want her here. It’s like I’m not even there anymore. It's always just Ona”, you tell her tearfully, she wraps you in her arms for a second while you sob.

After a minute, you get it together, and Alexia presses a kiss to your head. “I know me saying this won’t help, but Lucy only has eyes for you, but I understand. I tell her not to come in here, but you gotta promise me you’ll talk to each other, okay?”, She says seriously. You just nod before you lie back on the physio bed.

Alexia leaves, and the physio checks you for a concussion. “So you said you’re head hurts and you’re dizzy, any other symptoms?”, he asks softly, shining a light into your eyes. “Nausea, sensitivity to light. I feel a bit out of it”, you answer, and he just nods. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure this is a mild concussion. The ball really hit you on an unfortunate spot. You should feel better after a few days, but for now let’s get you home and get some rest. No straining activities, keep yourself hydrated, and get some sleep, alright?”, he asks, and you nod.

He helps you get changed before driving you home. The motion of the car makes the nausea so much worse that you throw up as soon as you're home. You try to rest and sleep, but your head won’t let you. The thoughts just crashing on each other making you restless, so you pull on your sunglasses and a hat, grab your headphones to dampen the sounds and make your way to one of your favorite spots at the beach. It’s not a long walk, so you’re fine. The area is usually not filled with many people, so you just lean against the railing and look out on the sea as you sink into your thoughts.

Meanwhile, Alexia walks back out to see everyone have a small water break. Lucy is standing with Keira and Ona, nibbling on the bottle nervously. “How is she?”, she asks Alexia, concerned. “She’s hurt, not just physically. Lucy, what the hell is going on with you? You know how Y/N is, you can’t tell her she’s dramatic and ridiculous, thinking she won’t spiral”, Alexia says a bit angry. Everyone on the team knows that you need reassurance, especially when those thoughts in your head get too loud. And they all could see that was the case lately. “What?”, Keira and Ona ask at the same time as they look at Lucy disappointed. “She was going on and on about how I keep spending time with you and never with her. I just figured she was jealous, and it isn’t a big deal. And as she told me she’s scared I will fall in love with you just something in me snapped, I couldn’t stop it”, Lucy tries to argue quietly as she looks at Ona, but she knows she’s in the wrong here.

Alexia just smacks her hard in the back of the head and grumbles “Estúpida!” “Lucy, her logical brain knows that there is just friendship between us. But you know how insecure she can get, and it’s been getting worse again lately. You should’ve been more attentive”, Ona says, disappointed. “Yeah you better fix this before it's too late”, Keira says seriously, and Lucy just sighs, realizing that she really messed up. “Right now she doesn’t want to see you, I think she has a mild concussion so give her some space, but you guys gotta talk tonight”, Alexia says and gives the brunette a little shove back onto the field.

At the end of practice, Lucy immediately runs to the physio room, but you’re gone. „Where is she?“, Lucy asks the physio as he comes in. „I drove her home. She needs rest“, he says, and she just looks worried at him. „Lucy, relax. It’s just a mild concussion. The ball just hit her at the wrong spot. She’ll be okay in a few days“, he says reassuringly, but it does little to calm her worries. She pushes her hair out of her face and takes a deep breath. „I know, I just really messed up. Thank you for driving her home. I gotta go“, Lucy says and jogs into the locker room. Changing with the speed of light before grabbing her bag and running out again. She doesn’t have time for a shower. She needs to get to you.

Speeding home, she runs in and looks around for you, but the apartment is empty. Grabbing her phone, she calls Alexia. „She’s not here“, Lucy says as soon as Alexia picks up. „Lucy, calm down. What?“, Alexia says, still in the locker room with most of the girls. Ona and Keira look up as Lucy‘s name falls, coming a bit closer so they can hear too. „She’s not here. Y/N is not here. She was told to rest, where is she? What if something happened?“, Lucy asks, worried. Rechecking all the rooms. „Hey Luce, calm down. Come on, take a deep breath“, Ona says, and Lucy rubs a hand over her face before taking a deep breath. „Think. Is there any place Y/N could be? Any place she likes to go to think?“, Keira asks gently but worried about you as well.

The line is silent for a moment as Lucy tries to think. „Isn’t there a spot at the beach close to your apartment that she likes?“, Alexia asks as she remembers you telling her about something like that. „Yeah, I think I know where she is. I‘ll keep you updated, thank you“, Lucy says and hangs up before she grabs her keys and phone and is out the door again. Leaving a completely confused Narla behind.

She sends a quick text to Ona and asks her if she could take Narla out while she was looking for you, which she, of course, does. She runs almost the whole way to the beach. As she gets to the part where it is quiet and especially during this time empty, she sees you leaning at the railing. She sends a quick „I found her“, message to the three girls and packs her phone away. Catching her breath, she slowly approaches you.

„What are you doing here?“, you just ask without looking at the brunette. You know exactly who it is without having to take a look. „I wanted to make sure you’re okay“, Lucy says softly, taking your headphones from your ears carefully. You look at her, your eyes hiding behind your sunglasses. „As you can see I’m fine“, you just say.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. Can we please talk?”, Lucy asks softly. “What? You just wanna tell me I’m ridiculous again? I can deal without, thank you”, You just say and turn to look out to the sea again. “Hey, no”, Lucy says and guides your chin back to look at her. She pushes your sunglasses up to look into your eyes and says honestly “I messed up badly, and I’ve been an ass. I didn’t pay attention and did not treat you like you deserve. I’m sorry. I know a simple I’m sorry won’t do it, but I need you to know that.”

“You know how disgusting it feels to be treated like you make a big deal out of nothing, when it’s all you can think about? When your insecurities and anxiety get dismissed with a simple, you’re being ridiculous? You know how I am Lucy. My logical brain knows that Ona and you are just friends. A simple reassurance and afternoon spend together would’ve fixed everything, but instead, you had to treat me like a piece of shit. Like I’m just this jealous clingy girlfriend. Do you know how much that hurt? To feel like you’re throwing three years away just like that? I’m not asking you to stop spending time with her or not checking on her when she goes down during practice, but, for fucks sake, don’t take me for granted. I don’t need much, but if you want this relationship, you gotta treat me with the respect and love I deserve. Because I can’t take whatever this is much longer. Love me or leave me, that simple”, you tell her as tears start to fall from your eyes. The more words leave your mouth the more tears fall.

She knows how fast you can spiral, but she hasn’t expected it to be this bad. She gently dries your tears as she starts to tear up a bit herself. “Y/N I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I acted like that. I should’ve seen how much my behavior hurt you. Instead, I just kept going and didn’t pay attention. I was wrong, and you didn’t deserve that. I never wanted you to even think about doubting that my love for you is still there. I messed up, and yes, I took you for granted without noticing, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. Y/N, I love you. I love you so much, and I don’t know how my head got so messed up that I stopped trying to show that to you. I’m truly sorry, I promise to make it up to you if you let me. I promise, I love you like you deserve because you deserve the world, my love”, Lucy says honestly, and you just hiccup slightly, trying not to sob. This is all you needed to hear, but you spiraled so deep you’re not sure if you can trust her words.

“Are you just saying this, or is this the truth?”, you ask tearfully. “It’s the truth, please let me make it up to you and love you like you deserve”, Lucy says softly, scared that she really messed up so bad that she’s past the point of a second chance. “Okay”, you mumble quietly, praying you won’t regret trusting her. You’re just in a bad place mentally, and it’s hard to even trust Lucy.

As she hears the okay, she’s quick to pull you into her arms and kisses your forehead. She holds you close, and you cling to her, crying into her chest. Tears are falling down her cheeks as well, but her focus is on you. She needs to take care of you now, treating you like you deserve.

It takes you a few minutes to calm down, Lucy’s heartbeat being able to pull you out of those dark clouds in your head and into a more relaxed state. But that also makes you feel the symptoms of the concussion again. It’s a blessing and a curse. You squeeze your eyes shut as your world spins.

Lucy can tell how unsteady you’re getting, so she just tightens her grip on you and says “Shh, I got you, my love. Let me take care of you.” You just clutch her shirt tightly, leaning on her heavily. Your head pounding. “Let’s get you home. You want me to call a cab to get us home?”, Lucy asks softly as she kisses your head. “No, the motion makes me throw up. I’ll be okay, just give me a minute”, you mumble and try to breathe through the pain and dizziness.

“Take your time, I’ll carry you if you need me too”, Lucy says, and you know she will, but it’s a 15-minute walk to your shared apartment. “Yeah and then you won’t be able to walk for the next three days because of your knee”, You tease weakly. Lucy can’t help but smile at this slight return of banter. “It’s worth it for you”, Lucy just says with a soft shrug and smiles before she kisses your forehead.

You just smile softly and rest against her for a moment longer, taking a few deep breaths. “Okay, I’m ready”, you mumble, and Lucy wraps an arm around your waist to steady you while you make your way home slowly. “When you need a break, tell me”, Lucy says and kisses your temple gently, and you nod.

To be fair, by the time you’re almost home, she is half carrying you. You’re exhausted and definitely pushed yourself too hard today after your concussion. The nausea gets worse the more you walk, so barely five minutes away you stop Lucy and start to throw up again into the grass without much of a warning. “Okay, I got you, love. Deep breaths”, Lucy says, gathering your hair and rubbing your back while keeping you steady. There is not much for you to throw up, so you calm down quickly, but your legs are threatening to give out.

“Do you want me to carry you on my back or bridal style? What do you think will make you less dizzy?”, Lucy asks, it’s not a question of if. It’s how you want to be carried. “Bridal”, you just mumble quietly. Being able to hide your face in Lucy’s neck sounds amazing. She picks you up immediately and carries you the rest of the way home. Did her knee protest a bit? Yes, but she’d do it all over again without a thought.

Once home, she carries you to bed, and you’re greeted by Narla, who jumps on the bed and showers you in kisses. Lucy sets up a bucket and enough water before tucking you in. “Get some sleep. Rest that pretty head of yours. I’ll be here when you wake up”, Lucy says, running her fingers through your hair. “Promise?”, “Promise. I love you”, Lucy says softly.

“I love you too, I missed you”, you just mumble before you doze off. The last thing you feel is a kiss on your forehead.

#lucy bronze x reader #woso fanfics #lucy bronze #woso angst #ona batlle #alexia putellas #keira walsh #woso community #woso fic #woso x reader #barça femeni

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jasmineoolongtea · 3 months

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― if you think i'm pretty 𝜗𝜚 ‧₊˚

― the ways in which they lay their hands on you and can't stop thinking about it ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

contents: gojo x gn!reader, geto x gn!reader, nanami x gn!reader, megumi x gn!reader, yuuta x gn!reader, headcanons/brief drabbles, quite suggestive (all characters are aged up!!!!), a lot of touching, making out, both reader and characters are needy and down bad for each other what can i say a/n: inspired by if you think i'm pretty by artemas and baby by madison beer, as you can see, i was very inspired for some of them compared to others so don't mind the difference in length djkajdwd

gojo satoru can't help but have his hands on you at all times. it's a genuine problem. some might even call it a disease or affliction, a deadly illness if you want to go that far.

whatever it is, he doesn't think he wants to find a cure for it. not when he can so easily coax out those wonderful sounds from you with the brush of his fingertips, those noises that are reserved just for him even though you try and deny it, and especially not when you decide you want to try and turn the tables on him.

that's how he finds himself underneath you on the floor of an abandoned office, his wrists pinned above his head as a devilish smirk graces his features. you're hovering above him, one hand locking his troublesome hands in place while the other is pressed against the cold floor to support your stance. right now, he's thinking about how this might be one of his favourite angles to look at you from.

he knows you're trying to tease him back, testing his patience and will to resist like he does with you, in a sort of punishment for his wandering hands but he can't even hide how much he's visibly enjoying this moment. it annoys you, deeply. you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, shifting your weight onto your knees to free up your other hand so you can run it down from his neck and stopping just right where his belt sits which earns you a breathy gasp from him.

you smile to yourself, clearly pleased at your own doing. but you don't have long to celebrate your victory as it seems you've underestimated how thin his patience runs when it comes to you. in an instance and in one fell swoop, you're flipped onto your back as satoru is now the one caging you against the floor. your faces are barely inches from each other when he leans in, his breath ghosting the shell of your ear as he whispers,

"it's my turn now."

geto suguru thinks apologies are useless. in most cases, he rather you show him instead.

to him, words often get in the way of many things and even more so when emotions come into the mix, scrambling them up to the point where they are nothing more than regurgitated word vomit. he's a firm believer in the phrase, actions speak louder than words, and he's definitely not shy about carrying out said belief in his daily life.

why tell you how much he wants you when he can simply show you through how his hand never seems to leave your waist even in the most crowded of places and how his lips seem to find yours in an instance as if he's worried that they might miss his company even if just for a second.

the same goes for you. why tell him how sorry you are when you can just show him? and so you do, caressing his jaw with your fingertips while your lips roam the expanses of his neck and collarbones, making it their sole mission to map out and commit each curve and mark to memory. every kiss you place is an apology in its own way and it makes the both of you forget what you two were even in arms over anyway.

"satisfied yet, sugu?" you murmur against his skin, the sound of your voice sending tiny vibrations that grants you a pleased hum from him.

too bad for you, it turns out that he's tough to please, or rather just tough to fully satiate his seemingly insatiable appetite for you.

"not yet. actually, far from it."

kento nanami is pretty sure that you're trying to punish him for something he did.

maybe it was because he didn't tell you what was truly on his mind when he came home from work last night in fear or burdening you with worries or maybe it was because he didn't touch you then, even though he knew that you were looking too good for no one to be touching you like they should.

but whatever it is, he knows that whatever you are doing, it's dangerous.

you two were in public, wide out in the open. he could feel his breath hitch in his throat as you nudge your heel against him, dragging lazy lines up and down his leg and stopping just right next to his upper thigh before disappearing again underneath the cover of the table. as usual, you offer him no visible reaction that could possible give away your true intentions to him, just a ghost of a coy smile on your lips.

was this fun for you? to test his resolve as a gentleman, drawing it thinner and thinner into a taught line ready to snap at any second? or did you just want to see first-hand what it would be like to see come undone from your actions alone. knowing you, it would probably be the latter but he could never know for sure as it seemed that he would inexplicably always play into your hand.

with each lingering touch wherever you could get your hands on and each teasing glance at his necktie, as if you were already trying to undress him with your eyes, he had never wanted to throw caution and any ounce of public decency he still had at this point and return the favour to you.

god, you were going to be the death of him.

fushiguro megumi thinks that you're a handful and isn't shy about making it known to you.

it doesn't help him at all, of course, only earning him a sly grin from you as you continue with your wandering touches and teasing kisses, lingering on certain areas such as right under his jaw where you know you can elicit a low breathy groan from him. he tries to hide his reaction in an attempt to not give you more fuel to continue but he fails every time with his body betraying him as the tips of his ears seem to grow impossibly redder and he even finds himself subconsciously leaning into your touch.

in response to his words, all you say is, "hmm maybe, but that's what hands are for." as if to prove your point, you entangle one of his hands with yours, pulling it closer towards you and placing it right in the middle of your chest like you were inviting him to do some of his own exploration himself. he avoids your gaze, knowing the moment he made eye contact he would be done for and whatever was holding him back now would shrivel into nothing in an instant.

you giggle softly to yourself, showcasing your obvious amusement at how much he's trying to prove that he's stronger than this. you lean in closer towards him, your faces barely centimetres apart as you murmur, "and last time i checked, i'm pretty sure you have two of them."

that's when he makes his fatal mistake, looking down to see your plump lips just a breath away from his and noticing how your eyelashes flutter softly as you, in turn, look up at him through them. he can imagine your body on his lips and that's all that it takes him to use his free hand and to close the distance between you two as your lips crash against each other.

screw this, he doesn't want to wait anymore.

okkotsu yuuta is obsessed with you to the point where to others, it could be seen as concerning. thankfully for the both of you, he's never been much to care for other's opinions.

it doesn't matter if you manage to kill him, whether intentionally or unintentionally, because no matter what, he'll just come back more obsessed with you. a fact that he so clearly demonstrates whenever you're around him.

"p-please," he mumbles against your lips, his fingers tightening their grip around your cheek, "don't go." his voice is shaky with a tinge of desperation and his pupils are so enlarged with his unquenchable thirst and desire for you that you've lost track of the whites of his eyes. to him, even parting for a breath of air when it comes to you is a painful act that causes his heart to ache and swell.

yuta's never been much of a sweet tooth but he thinks you taste like the sweetest candy that could ever exist and it's as if you're covered in a layer of sugarcoating he wants to be the only person who has the privilege of being able to lick it off with his own lips. your hand snakes its way up his arm and around his neck, pulling him tighter into your grasp and he takes this as his cue to dive back into your lips.

at this point, he's no better than an addict with how much he's greedily devouring you with his mouth, wholeheartedly consuming you with every fibre of his being as his tongue desperately awaits to explore more of you and see if this is the only place that you taste sweet. all good things in this world cost something and you're no exception but whatever the price is, he doesn't care because he'll pay for it.

hopefully, he's planning to repay it now in his own sort of way.

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andillneverbethesame · 5 months

Note

omg i love your writing!! could you do a taylor swift song prompt of “so high school” x james potter? potentially with a ravenclaw reader?

looove this! so high school is absolutely james coded aaaaa. this is so short but i hope u enjoy anyway<33

so high school

❥ james potter x ravenclaw!fem!reader

❥ warnings; none really

❥ word count; 1.2k

❥ my ts masterlists; pt 1 & pt 2

"oi, james!" sirius called his best mate and gestured for james to sit next to him as if he wasn't going to do that anyway.

"good morning, everybody," james smiled at his friendgroup, his eyes lingering on you a tiny bit longer than on anyone else, making your heart flutter and your cheeks to heat up. you glanced back Down on your plate in hopes to hide it.

"james," sirius spoke up again, "marry, kiss or kill; lily, marlene, y/n."

"well, we all know who'd he want to marry," marlene said in a low voice, only for you and lily to hear. lily snorted and you lightly elbowed her.

the girls were convinced that james fancies you just as much as you fancied him. however, you found that hard to believe that someone so perfect like him could like someone like you.

james frowned. "i don't like this game."

sirius rolled his eyes. "oh, come on, you just don't want to say it out loud so you don't hurt anyone's feelings." he tapped on his ear. "whisper it to me."

james lowered his head at the level of his best friend's ear and whispered his answer. you girls tried your best to read his lips but it was no use.

"oh." an amused look appeared on sirius's face and he looked at you. you stared back at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking.

come on, james. are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

——————————————————————

the gryffindor quidditch team won the cup.

just when it seemed that they were going to lose against hufflepuffs, james caught the snitch, making the score 250 - 260 for the reds.

you were never more proud of him than in that very moment. you jumped from your seat and yelled his name in a cheering tone, clapping so hard your hands almost hurt. like if he heard you, his brown eyes found yours in the crowd. he grinned and sent you a wink and a kiss. james was thanking you, you were his lucky charm.

that night, the gryffindors threw the biggest party ever. it was many student's last game at hogwarts so it was also a goodbye party. all of the team members were there and talked about the match and their time playing together in general.

quidditch wasn't your thing. you were the stereotypical ravenclaw and you'd much rather be in your bed, under cover and reading a book. but james practically begged you to be there. after all, it was thanks to you that they won. you knew that wasn't the truth but you couldn't say no to him and you were glad you didn't. he looked so happy and beautiful and you couldn't help but admire him.

"let's play truth or dare!" marlene's voice rang through the common room and every person there agreed.

"i think i'm gonna go back to my dorm, it's late," you yelled over the loud music into james's ear.

"nooo," james pouted and give you a puppy look, he got a hold of your hand. "you can't leave now. please? just stay here for ten more minutes."

you sighed. you hated how easily you'll do anything he says.

"alright," you said and let him drag you to the circle of people in the middle of the room. a lot of people had gone to sleep already or some could be found vomiting in the bathroom so there weren't a lot of you. you sat down next to each other and waited for the game to start.

marlene picked up an empty whiskey bottle and spun it around. it landed on mary and she groaned, knowing that her friend has some of the most. . . interesting questions and dares.

"mary," marlene grinned widely. "truth or dare?"

"truth."

the blonde took a few seconds to think of a question before asking, "the freakiest place you did it at."

"that would be. . . a bed of one of my dorm mates."

"what?" lily, alice and marlene asked in terror, each of them wondering whose bed was it.

mary smiled innocently. "my turn," she spun the bottle. and then, everyone glanced at the boy beside you. you let out a sigh of relief.

"jamie, truth o—"

"dare."

a devilish smile crept onto the girl's lips.

"kiss y/n."

your eyes went wide as the people around you let out an "oooooh".

"mary!" you hissed. "what the f—"

before you could finish your sentence, you were rudely interrupted.

he tasted of— well, alcohol. rum and coke, to be exact. but it didn't matter. he was kissing you, and your whole body was on fire, your heart rate raised to at least hundred more beats per minute and fireworks. it was maybe cliché, yes. but it was the truth.

before you could fully register what the hell was happening, he was pulling away, making your lips feel cold at the sudden loss of the warmth of his mouth.

his gaze shifted from your lips to your eyes.

"i imagined our first kiss differently," he spoke in a low voice so only you could hear, sounding disappointed. he reached for the bottle and spun it around so the game could continue.

you stared at him for at least ten more seconds. you couldn't believe what just happened and what he said after.

and you started to wonder that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way.

——————————————————————

and in a blink of a crinkling eye, you were at sirius's and remus's apartment, sitting on james's lap in the living room. all of your boyfriend’s closest friends were there and just like any other saturday night, you had a film night. tonight, it was american pie.

james and you started dating only recently. it’s been a month,to be exact. so everything felt still really new. and you felt embarrassing for the fact that he still had the same effect on you like when you were bittersweet sixteen. it takes you back to the times when you used to admire him only from afar. but now, you get to kiss him. you get to touch him.

like, for example, he was just touching you. as you tried to stifle your sighs, everyone seemed to be paying a great attention to the film. except for you two, of course. you coud not focus when james was constantly placing kisses in the crook of your neck and your shoulders. you could not focus when one of his hands was drawing on the skin of yourupper thigh. you could not focus when his hot breath made you shudder.

“james,” you sighed quietly. “you got to stop.”

“and why would i do that?” he whispered back.

you rolled your eyes playfully. “you’re horrible.”

he shrugged. “you love me.”

oh, you did.

out of the blue, he spoke louder, “guys, me and y/n are sorry but we’re pretty tired so we’re headed home.”

huh?

all of your friends looked at each other and than back at you, saying “suuuuureee” in union.

“james, why are we leaving?” you ran outside after him.

he turned around and smiled. “you already know.”

“aw, we’re horrible!” you pouted playfully. “we’re abandoning our friends to have sex.”

“i’m sure they understand,” he said as he opened the door of his car. “remus and sirius used to do that all the time.”

you burst out laughing and let him pull you to the back seat.

no one’s ever had you, not like him.

#harry potter #harry potter imagine #marauders #marauders imagine #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #harry potter x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #harry potter fluff #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #james potter fanfic #james potter x you

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chronicowboy · 6 months

Text

"I guess it's just me that makes you nervous then," Tommy teases, gentle as anything, and suddenly everything inside Buck just settles.

This is flirting. This is something he knows how to do, man or not. Because he likes Tommy. Thinks, terrifyingly, that he might like Tommy more than he's ever liked anyone he's dated before. Which is a lot, probably, to think on a first date. But Tommy's looking at him with an endless patience and warmth that Buck feels in every inch of him. It's easy not to worry then.

"I don't know if nervous is the right word," Buck murmurs, heat rising in his cheeks.

"Oh, yeah?" Tommy quirks a smile at him, whole face lighting up with it like he's seen the tension melt out of Buck all at once.

"Mm." Buck nods, takes a sip of beer without looking away from Tommy's deep eyes. "Flustered, maybe." He ducks his head when Tommy's grin only grows brighter. "Giddy." He tangles their feet together under the table, the rest of the room fading away. "A little like a schoolkid with their first crush."

"Well, that explains all the pigtail pulling," Tommy retorts, leaning back in his seat and folding his arms over his chest. Buck lets himself look at the bulge of his biceps, big, bigger than Buck's even, mouth-watering apparently, lets himself appreciate them for a moment.

"You're not gonna let me live that down, are you?"

"Oh, come on, Evan." Tommy snorts. "Think I get to lord that over you for a little while. If not for myself, then on Eddie's behalf at least."

"A little while, huh?" Buck redirects them, something seizing in his chest at the mention of Eddie's name. He falls back into a familiar move, looks up at Tommy from under his eyelashes and watches the man smile like he just can't help it. "You thinking of keeping me around then? Even with all the..." He waves his hand at himself, a gesture to the embarrassing ally word vomit that he'd dropped on him just moments ago.

"This is new to you." Tommy shrugs. "Wasn't expecting you to be a real Casanova first time around."

"Casanova," Buck repeats gleefully, beaming when Tommy rolls his eyes and blushes just ever so slightly.

"Anyway, as I was saying," he emphasises. "First date was never going to be smooth sailing. Only fair I get to take you out again. Practice makes perfect and all."

"Sounds pretty perfect," Buck says. And what he doesn't say is: I don't think this is practice, I think this is the real thing.

#sami rambles #had to write soft bucktommy after the fic i dropped yesterday and this little exchange came to me fully formed #took literally ten minutes to write #911 spoilers #911 show #911 spec #evan buckley #tommy kinard #buck x tommy #bucktommy #911 fic #911 ficlet #911 spec fic #bucktommy fic #buck x tommy fic

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that1emowitch · 6 months

Note

Bruce, high on painkillers, is being babysat by Jason. Jason has to do an emergency Red Hood thing, and lacking an alternative, slaps a stock domino on Bruce and drags him along.

Bruce proceeds to say/do the most unhinged shit. The goons are suddenly viscerally aware of where Hood got it from.

WOW okay you guys are unhinged, you know that?

(And I love it <3)

A/N: I fully intended to write a crack fic, but the feels crawled in through the plot holes I missed and made their homes in the heart of the story. Also I don't know what you mean by 'stock domino' so I'm assuming it's one of those dollar store ripoffs.

(TW: Accidental overdosing on painkillers, mentions of blood, Jason's usual level of swearing, some goons almost dying but like in a funny way.)

Word Count: 2328

Jason wants to scream.

Like, let it rip out on an abandoned cliff in the howling rain kinda scream.

But no, he's stuck babysitting Brucie Wayne who accidentally OD'd on fucking painkillers after trying to treat himself in Alfred's unfortunate absence (how does that even happen?!).

Dick and Damian are out doing some brotherly-bonding thing, Tim's with the Titans, Duke and Cass are at the movies, and Steph has declared herself "not one of Bruce's kids." Leaving Jason as the only one free to look after their "Dad".

Jason pushes Bruce down on the Batcave's gurney for the billionth time after he attempts (keyword: attempts) to walk again, scowling. None of them are getting any waffles from me again. Or pancakes. Or scones. Or anything I make for them out of my sweet, kind heart. Those little shits.

Jason puts two fingers on Bruce’s wrist, checking his pulse. His skin is cold and clammy, breathing slow, but at least he’s not vomiting anymore. He sighs, collapsing on a chair beside Bruce. He's tired. So fucking tired.

Just as Jason's eyes flutter shut for a moment, the Batcomputer's alarm suddenly blares.

Bruce shoots up, shouting, "ALARM!"

Grumbling, Jason drags himself to the computer, pushing Bruce down along the way. He opens the glaring red notification, brows creased.

Black Mask's goons have intercepted some military shipment...

"Ugh..." Jason groans, and moves to put on his helmet (he never changed out of his costume), checking his guns, when a sudden crash from behind him snaps his attention to the man-child he's supposed to be babysitting.

Bruce has stepped off the gurney and collapsed face-down on the med bay's floor.

He can't just leave him there, can he?

Jason considers his options: He could either strap Bruce to the gurney and leave (in which case Dick will have his head), or he could take Bruce out on the streets with him (in which case Dick will absolutely want to murder him.)

Jason smirks. It’s obvious which one’s the right choice.

Ten minutes later, Jason’s riding through the city at over a hundred miles per hour, with Bruce strapped to the backseat of his motorcycle. Bruce is wearing a dollar store ripoff of the Robin domino and a Robin-themed cape made of Tim’s bedsheets, looking absolutely ecstatic at the high speed.

They arrive at the warehouse where Black Mask’s goons have transported their stolen goods, parking in a shadowed spot a building away. Jason gets off, helping Bruce onto his feet, and says, “Now, I’m going to go shoot some people, you stay hidden and quiet, got that?”

“Guns are bad,” Bruce replies, holding a finger to Jason’s helmet. “Just like clowns. And ducks.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jason shakes his head. He doesn’t have time for this right now.

Jason quickly scales the nearest building, grappling to the roof of the warehouse. He peeks in through a hatch in the roof to survey the area. There are about a dozen armed goons, none of them looking very bright. There are 4 crates they’re guarding, likely filled with ammo.

Cocking his guns, Jason jumps down through the hatch, landing right in the middle of the warehouse with a ‘thud’ sound. “Surprise,” He grins, raising his guns.

“Aye, that’s Red Hood, ain’t it?” Comes a goon’s terrified voice. The others around him immediately aim their guns at Jason— they’re clearly untrained.

Suddenly there’s another thud behind him. “That’s a bucket, you morons!” Comes a too-familiar, slurred voice. Jason turns around to come face-to-face with Bruce, eyes wide.

In a fight with any real criminals, this distraction would have cost Jason his life. But luckily these adorably clueless goons are just as shocked as him.

Unfortunately the distraction only lasts for a few seconds. Jason immediately jumps into the fight, shooting three goons in the kneecaps and dodging a few bullets. From the corner of his eye, he sees two more goons running out the door, crying. He punches another guy in the face, instantly knocking him out, and is about to turn back to check on Bruce when suddenly something hard collides with his skull.

Jason staggers slightly, trying to regain his balance, when he sees a goon holding a giant stone, wearing a proud grin.

Fuck, his helmet’s probably busted…

Then suddenly Bruce is running towards the goon, hands fisted and veins popping, screaming, “NO ONE HURTS MY SON!”

Then Bruce’s fist collides with the goon’s with a sickening crunch, splattering blood across the floor as the man crumples to the ground. Bruce doesn’t stop there, and continues to beat him up, yelling profanities.

It warms Jason’s cold, (un)dead heart to watch that— to see his Dad fighting for him. It’s like they say, you’re most truthful when you’re drunk— or high. This is how much Bruce loves him.

Then another thought strikes him— Bruce is going to regret being this violent when he sobers up. It’s going to claw at him, tear him up, and he’s going to compartmentalize and end up punishing himself by overworking.

Jason rushes forward, pulling Bruce off of the man. “B— Robin, stop!” He shouted, looking into the man’s domino-covered eyes.

Bruce’s brows furrow. “Robin?”

Jason points to Bruce’s Robin-themed cape and stock domino.

“Ah.” Bruce nods, pulling away. “You okay? Did you see any duck?”

“Duck?” Jason pauses in confusion. But before he can question it farther, he spies the three remaining goons using a ladder to climb up through the roof of the warehouse, trying to escape.

“Stay here. And do not move.” Jason orders Bruce, and runs after them.

He makes his way up the ladder as fast as he can , exiting under the polluted night sky. The goons, the ridiculously stupid goons, are standing around the edge of the roof, trying to figure out how they’re going to get down.

He doesn’t get paid enough to deal with this ridiculous shit.

Actually, scratch that, he doesn’t get paid at all.

“Wow, you guys are pathetic,” Comes Red Hood’s robotic voice, startling the goons, and one of them accidentally topples over the edge, screaming. Jason ensures that the guy’s hanging on tight— he can wait.

He cocks his guns, aiming both at the two standing goons. Both men are trembling with fear, hands up in surrender. “Hood— Mr. Hood, please—” One of them squeaks, but one look from Jason shuts him up.

“Please. Mr. Hood was my father,” Jason quips, his robotic chuckle sounding sinister.

That’s when he hears another voice behind him (again)— “But I’m your father.”

Jason jumps, whipping around. “How did you— I didn’t even hear you come!”

Bruce just shrugs innocently, waving his bloodstained hands at the terrified goons.

Then Jason hears the distinct sound of a gun being cocked. From the corner of his eye he sees the bolder of the goons, the one that had spoken before, taking aim.

“DUCK!” He yells, falling out of the way.

Instead of dodging, Bruce falls into a defensive stance, looking around frantically. “Where?!”

The bullet barely misses Bruce’s ear as he turns his head.

Jason has had it with sky-high Bruce now. Annoyance rising, he quickly shoots the two goons in the kneecaps, forgetting about the one hanging off the edge, and stalks up to Bruce, glaring.

“What is up with you and ducks?!” He demands, his voice raised.

“Ducks are evil,” Bruce spits, nose wrinkled. “Just like clowns. And bats.”

Jason’s brows raise. “Bats are evil?”

“Yeah, duh, that’s why everyone’s scared of Batman.” Bruce rolls his eyes, his drawl sounding too much like Steph. “Bats are scary.”

“You really took ‘become what you fear’ too literally, huh?” Jason snorts, putting his guns back in their holsters. Then he takes off his helmet, checking the damage— just a slight crack at the back. Not too bad.

“You know, I fell into a hole and into a cave when I was a boy and a dozen bats attacked me. I nearly died.” Bruce continues, gesturing towards the air with his hands.

“Yeah, right.” Jason shakes his head, chuckling. “Now come on, we gotta get you back.”

That’s when another voice rings out, high-pitched and scared. “Um, Mr. Hood? Please HELP! Please, please, please—”

Jason’s attention snaps to the corner of the roof— ah, right, the goon’s still hanging off the edge, isn’t he?

He grumbles, making his way over, and squats above the man, shaking his head. The man below him looks like he’s pissed himself, face ashen, tears running down his cheeks, muttering, “I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die…” On repeat.

“I’ll pull you up on one condition,” Jason looks down at him, voice low. “Never become a gun for hire again. If I see you fighting on the streets…” He pulls out his gun.

“No, no, I won’t, I swear…” The man whimpers, eyes squeezed shut. Jason sighs, and grabs the man by the collar and hauls him up. He crumples onto the roof, curling into a ball.

“Take out your phone and dial 911, tell them you’ve been naughty,” Jason orders, his gun pointed at the man’s head. (What? A guy needs to have some fun.)

The man whines, and immediately obliges.

“Pathetic,” Jason ties the man up quickly, and makes his way over to Bruce, who was sitting on the floor of the roof, taking apart some random crushed handphone he’s found.

“Get up, old man. GCPD will be here soon. We’re going home.” He pulls Bruce up, ignoring how he longingly stares at the dismantled phone.

The two of them grapple down from the roof, landing safely on the pavement. As they walk towards his bike, Bruce says, “Did you know I ate a phone once?”

Jason stumbles slightly. “What?”

“Tasted nice. Like electricity. Crackle-y.” Bruce hummed, his face straight (as straight as someone dating Superman could be). He isn't kidding.

That, or he's delusional.

“Don't try it. You might turn into a computer or something.” Bruce nodded very seriously.

“Oh god,” Jason snorts. “I'm so glad my helmet’s recording all this. Perfect blackmail material.”

“Black's a very, very pretty color.”

Jason rolls his eyes, revving the motor, making sure Bruce is safely strapped onto the backseat behind him. “You're just emo.”

“What's emo?” Bruce raises an eyebrow, words slightly slurred.

“Y'know, when people wear all that black makeup, skinny jeans, with hair covering their eyes.” Jason explains, putting a spare helmet on Bruce's head. “And listen to, like, My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco. The Emo Trinity.”

“Oh, oh!” Bruce's eyes sparkle. “Dickie used to do that! He went to a My Chemmy concert once, but he didn't want me coming along.” He pouts.

Jason thinks of all the times Gerard Way has shoved a mic down his throat and grabbed his junk. “Yeah, I wonder why.”

Then he turns around to look Bruce in the eye. “But, Golden Boy was emo? Seriously?”

Bruce just smiles and nods, saying, “Now go.”

“Going,” Jason smirks and speeds down the streets of Gotham city, not slowing down until their surroundings change from shitty apartment buildings and broken street lights to the eerie quiet of Bristol. He can see the Manor in the distance when he takes a hidden turn, straight down the road that leads to the Batcave.

He pulls into the underground ‘garage’ section of the Cave, parking his bike before helping Bruce off. As he removes Bruce’s ripoff domino and “cape”, he says sternly, “Now, you tell no one of what we did today, got that? Not a soul.”

Bruce just flashes a thumbs-up and smiles in the most un-Bruce-like way possible. It’s a little creepy, honestly.

“And even if you remember this once you sober up you won’t talk, because you swore on your soul not to tell.”

“Mhm. Kay.”

“Good.” Jason smiles slightly, helping Bruce back to the gurney, making him lie down. He checks him over for any symptoms that the painkiller overdose is making his health worse. His skin’s still cold and clammy, but his breathing’s more steady. His pupils aren’t as small anymore, and he’s way more responsive than he was an hour ago.

Huh. Maybe all he really needed was some exercise.

Jason sits down beside his father, taking a deep breath. “Hey, uh… Did you really mean that, back there? That… That I’m your son?”

Bruce’s brows furrow. “Yes, who else’s son would you be? Superman’s?”

A short laugh escapes Jason. He moves closer to Bruce, lying down so his head is resting beside the older man’s. “I just…” He sighs, unable to form the right words. “I know it doesn’t always seem like it, but… I love you, Dad.”

“Aww, Jaybird…” Bruce’s hand moves sluggishly to cradle Jason. “I love you so much more than you could ever imagine.”

A small smile plays on Jason’s lips as he closes his eyes, leaning into his Dad’s touch. Maybe… maybe babysitting a high Bruce isn’t so bad.

[BONUS!!!]

Dick walks into the infirmary nearly an hour later with Damian trailing behind him, intending to check up on Bruce. He’s been ringing Jason’s phone for a while now, but he hasn’t been picking up. And… Honestly, Dick’s getting worried.

“Tt. I knew we shouldn’t have left Father’s safety in the hands of an incompetent fool such as Todd,” Damian frowns, scowling.

“No, no, it’s probably just a misunderstanding,” Dick tries to reassure his baby brother, but he picks up his pace. “I mean, we both know what Jason’s like. One moment he’s nice, one moment he’s—”

His voice trails off as he sees Jason sitting on a chair beside Bruce, who’s on the gurney— both asleep, with Jason’s head resting on Bruce’s shoulder, and Bruce cradling him.

“Aww, Little Wing…” Dick smiles, pausing. Even Damian freezes behind him. Dick steers him away, back into the main house, so as to not disturb the sleeping pair. “Yeah, they’re okay. Nothing bad happened.”

#Jason being a little shit who just wants to piss Dick off at first but really gets into the feels by the end #Also Jason didn't consider that to use the helmet's footage of tonight as blackmail he'll have to admit to the fam #that he bought a sky-high Bruce #(who he was supposed to be babysitting)#out into a gunfight #jason todd #bruce wayne #batman #batfamily #red hood #batfam #dick grayson #damian wayne

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w1shb0n3z · 4 months

Text

Alright, so hear me out

(this is another long one. Like. Seriously. It has 2.6k words.)

*yes, I edited this like 5 mins after I posted it just to add some more, oops

Post cannon Labru where Laios tries to help Kabru regain weight

TW: ED, Body Dysmorphia, Fat-phobia, Gender Dysphoria

It turns out to he a huge body image thing. Like Kabru develops a bit of an ED after he gains his weight back and tries to stay "the perfect weight" and major body dysmorphia. But! It's very sweet because hand feeding, of course, and self-acceptance.

I imagine Kabru's blue eyes get brought up when Laios is like "oh, you don't like that about yourself? :( you're so wonderful! What else could you possibly not like! Surely not those eyes ^^" or something

Plus! I'm 98% sure that Laios gains some weight post cannon, so his wrestler build gets softer, which, yay! We love that here! But this comes with its positives and negatives. (Dont he scared by how big the negative paragraph is)

Positive: Kabru has an example of having a healthy relationship with yourself and your body

Negatives (and hold on) TW btw: at a certain point of Kabru's weight gain/ body acceptance journey, where he gets obsessed with keeping "the perfect body" and does everything in his power not to gain anymore, his own twisted view of himself spills over to Laios. He starts to view Laios as a sort of slob or careless person because he gained weight after the dungeon and gained an extra 5-ish pounds while helping Kabru gain. Because Laios can and will encourage Kabru to eat by eating with him with a smile on his face.

What if someone finds out about Kabru's purging?

Yes, Kabru has purged a few times while he was at his lowest. And no, Laios doesn't catch him in the act. He doesn't know until someone tells him about it. Kabru just keeps it to himself with a tinge of guilt. Someone else finds out. I can't decide who yet, but if it were:

Chilchuck - he'd be familiar with his topic because one of his daughters went through the same thing. He keeps secret as per Kabru's request but gives to Kabru straight. He tells him vomiting hat much rots your teeth and only has negative impacts in the future. With Chil being big and tall for his race's standards and him canonically watching his own weight, he talks Kabru through this whole body image thing. Maybe not in the exact way Kabru wants, but in the way he needs

Senshi - he's SO against this. He tries to father Kabru, but his own lack of understanding for why Labru feels this way gets in the way of progress. He urges Kabru to eat and tells Laios what's goin on in hopes of figuring out what all of this is about, accidentally spilling the beans and leading to conflict between Laios and Kabru

Marcille - she doesn't really get the ED thing, but she gets not liking your body (since she never fit in with her "age group" while growing up and wished she physically presented like them). She also tells Kabru that throwing up rots his teeth and says it's bad for your mana and junk. Shes very offput by this whole thing, but she tries. She doesn't tell Laios...on purpose. (Falin also finds out becuase the guilt Marcille has from telling that secret ears her alive)

Falin - my girl does NOT understand. But she's here to empathize. She ends up being huge in Kabru's healing journey. She tries to check in on bim every now and then and uses her own transformation to promote body acceptance

Izutsumi - she doesn't know what to do. She's 17 goddamn it. So when she hears Kabru throwing up she just assumes he's sick, but when she keeps hearing it she gets a little stressed about him. She goes "he's just weird" and mentions it in conversation to someone else, most likely Marcille (which probably led to Marcille finding out in the earlier paragraph)

Mickbell...somehow - is like "dude wtf" and tells Rin about it since he knows there close. He's worried, yeah, but he doesn't think its really his problem. Especially since the two fo them aren't close like that.

Kuro - he finds out and tells Rin as well, he also tells Kabru that he looks fine. He mentions it to Mickbell, yeah, but in a "Will he be okay? :(" way

Rin - devastated. She initially gives Kabru a hard talk...which makes him worse, but hey! She tried. Rin then thinks its becuase of the shame of dying many times and tries to comfort Kabru again. Doesn't work. She tries to get him to eat the things he likes. He eats them, but she can sense the guilt from Kabru. They then have a heart to heart becuase Rin can't stand to see her best friend suffer like this and assures him that he looks fine as often as he needs

Holm - he takes a simular approach as Falin but gets a little more involved. He understands it on paper, but can't image what actually having these issues is like. Yes, he also informs Rin and is the one that told her to try to speak to Kabru in a less...prickly manner about this touchy subject

Daya - She doesnt realise what Kabru was trying to achieve by puking. So she just advises him not to do so and tells Rin about the strange behavior.

How does this affect non-platonic Labru?

Easy!

Well for starters! If they were boning before, they aren't now LMAO

Partly because of Kabru's own body image being trash and his attraction to Laios (temporarily) going to shit after Laios gained some weight to encourage Kabru. Damn that internalized fat-phobia. Neither one of them seems to have a clue what's going on. Let word, seems.

Kabru knows his view of Laios just isn't the same, but he doesn't let it be known that he's aware of this.

Does he feel bad? Yeah. But he only feels bad because he doesn't feel bad. He feels as though he's a shitty boyfriend for harboring such disgust for his partner's figure

Laios catches Kabru stealing glances at himself in the mirror. Staring just a little too long. Laios deduces that Kabru's feeling a little self-conscious after some hard thought.

So, of course, he makes sure to be extra careful about his words. He'd totally be like that one meme (which I can't find) that goes: "damn girl, that ass is wide" "what??" "I didn't want to say fat and trigger your eating disorders :/"

Plus, on the not boning thing, they're busy. You got a king and his advisor, they're not gonna be cranking it up every night! They simply sleep together, in a literal sense most nights anyways, so more sleep isn't anything bad

Additionally, I don't believe Laios has a high sex drive at all. (I personally think he's on the asexual spectrum, maybe because I'm ace, but still)

Kabru won't initiate a thing at the moment, it's up to Laio's sporadic desires to get things going. (It never gets going)

What if Laios discovers Kabru's feelings towards him and the purging?

He's hurt, simply put. He can't understand why Kabru dislikes his body, Laios can't understand why his own body would be such a turn off now.

In the non-platonic vers Laios tries to become "sexy" again. ....He fails horribly and ends up making a fool out if himself. At first he's like, "well monsters do this to attract mates" right after he feels as though he needs to inprove upon himself. Then he goes "no... Kabru isnt a monster, and im not either (unfortunately)"

He pushes that silly thought aside and tries to find out *why* Kabru is turned off by his looks now. His face? No.. His hair? Just got it cut. His figure? ...but why?

Laios goes right up to Kabru and confronts him about it. Kabru being the slippery bitch that he is denies it and goes "lol wtf haha! I luv u bae and there's nothing wrong with u!! ur so sexy and hot haha..."

This, inevitably, confused the shit out of Laios and he asks for honesty. Kabrus actions aren't exactly aligning with his words, and something needs to he done.

[Okay, let's be real here. If Kabru didn't want Laios to know how he felt, Laios' ass would NOT know lmao. This is just for the bit]

Now the purging? Laios is like "dude what? :(" he doesn't understand it. Nope. Not at all. He tires to he supportive, but he really doesn't know what to do with this. It's not like there's a bulimia monster, so he has no real frame of reference.

He's all "but you look fine how you are :(" and "I like the weight on you!" or even "did you know that [this species of monster] finds fat attractive? ,:D"

He means so so well, and Karbu knows it. Laios really is just a dog of a man.

Laios also tries to get Kabru to promise to stop. We know how that went. Karbu agreeing just to do it behind Laios' back because he knows Laios won't find out. He'll cut back on it, yeah, but he has his weak moments.

Eventually, Laios makes sure to only have Kabru serve his favorite meals. That should keep him from puking it up! And Karbu stops after a while. But only because his health is on the decline.

What else?

Two words: hand. feeding.

Kabru throws up? He gets his favorite meals so he won't. Kabru keeps checking his figure? Less mirrors in the caslte and more compliments. Kabru not eating enough or skipping meals? Simple. Laios makes sure he eats.

And how? A little less of Laios sensually slipping a fork full of decedent chocolate cake past Kabru's lips and a little more than a simple "here comes the airplane"

It starts off as Laios seeing Kabru taking smaller bites and being like "oh! Let me show you how to fill your fork! ^^" and then him taking Kabru's fork, impaling a bunch of assorted foods onto said fork, then handing it back to Kabru.

Then it sort of devolved (...evolved?) Into Kabru begrudgingly letting Laios feed him like a toddler while no one else ot looking. My boy Kabru does NOT know how to say no to this autistic man properly.

Laios was like "would it help if I just fed you?" And karbu replied something like "haha! It just might!" And of course Laios did not pick up on that God level sarcasm and went "cool, Let's try it then" and Kabru, wanting to appease Laios said "cool!". Bro was punching air.

(Yes, Laios said stuff like "good job buddy!" "You're doing so well!" "Its tasty, right?" Almost every bite)

In the non-platonic world, Laios would have Karbu sit ever so close to him as he was fed, maybe even in his lap. And of course Karbu would get a peck on the cheek after every bite. And the whole process may or may not turn Laios on. Especially when they're dining on monster. Whoops.

....anything else?

This all ties in with the absurd standards that was set for Karbu and the insecurities he hides within himself.

The whole blue-eye-spawn-of-a-demon thing was already enough for him. But being raised by that moody ass elf was a whole nother thing.

Milsiril, his adoptive elf mom, raises children like she has a monopoly in daycares. She's a serial foster fr. All them damn kids. Raising them like pets becuase you want something to love and depend on you. (I love Milsiril btw)

Anyways.

Kabru was his mom's favorite since his features were unique. Im talkin big bright blue eyes contrasting with rich dark skin, in particular. Plus, he was so sociable! All of his siblings looked up to him in one way or another. He was the star child.

And, you know that thing about elves being twinks, right? When ever Milsiril would check up on Karbu's health, she would use this old elven chart depicting the "average/desirable/suggested" height, weight, and muscle tone for diffrent short-lived races at diffrent ages/stages of life.

Safe to say these charts and texts were based off of elven standards, so everyone was thought to be slimmer, lighter, and more toned than normal. Plus, they're old lol. Instead of updating her charts and buying some from the diffrent cultures and races, she keeps her old one becuase she legit just forgets to replace it and hasn't had any "major problems" while raising her kids with that information so she doesn't think to change it.

What in trying to say is!

Kabru was raised with unrealistic body goals, and when he used to deviate from those arbitrary statistics during childhood he'd be put on diets and stuff.

Also, What if Kabru was transmasc?

Especially when he was a teen, even gaining a little wait made him go nuts. He couldn't get the words "unhealthy" out of his head and started associating it with the word "fat". His mind likes to play tricks on him when he's in the mirror. Exaggerating his figure and making him panic.

So! When he was sick and tired after that weird ass dungeon trip that changed his whole world and he came back to find himself thin as a pin, he tweaked.

He logically hated it because it was unhealthy, but a part of him was satisfied. With the added stress of becoming a Kings advisor, he started to crack under the pressure, manifesting in an obsession with himself. When he started to gain weight back he was brought right back to those check ups he had with Milsiril and those 2, maybe 3 times he was put onto diets in his youth. He really feared he was getting fat and he would just stare into the mirror and feel his flesh beneath his fingertips, searching for some sort of confirmation. All he felt was a bit of a squish, a bit of a give, and that's all he needed.

It was too much for him. His body was wrecked in his eyes. He's supposed to he fit and lean and thin and perfect. How could that be perfect? He looks in the mirror in his private study, wasting the time he could've been spending planning new city infrastructure or working out the kinks in trade. But no. He's here, in his dimly lit room, looking at how imperfect he's become in his eyes. How unhealthy he is his mom's eyes. How disgusting he is in his birth mothers eyes.

He had to fix it. The wound rubs deep, dar past the dermis. And, I guess, much like other wounds that cut a chasm into the skin, you don't really feel it once it severs your nerves. You don't really notice until you see the big, gaping, bleeding, notch where you used to be.

Lol anyways

Whoo boy. He is in hell. He feels like gaining weight makes him look "softer" and more feminine. He hates it, yes. But he tries his best not to let it effect his wardrobe. This whole weight journey really rehydrated his gender dysphoria.

He's used to looking a little androgynous, but with his new weight going to his stomach, hips, and thighs, he just feels as though his silhouette is becoming more girly.

Kabru is found training and working out more. Anything to get his body more boxy again.

He spends more time making sure he looks presentable. Even waking up a little earlier to ensure he vouge cover ready. (Well, I mean, as vouge ready as perpetual business casual can be)

And how does it end?

It takes some time, but Kabru heals. He's 10 pounds heavier than when we were first introduced to him, but he doesn't mind anymore.

It was a long journey full of all sorts of denail and shame, but he got there.

He's still the Light Yagami coded perfect chivalrous boy. He always has been. And Laios loves him all the same. Platonically or not.

Laios was essential in Karbu learning to let go of those impossible ideal and unreachable standards. Laios does not give a fuck afterall, he thinks all human bodies are unintresting beautiful! That dude does not judge. Rember him talking about the orc women in one of the monster tidbit sections? He's about body acceptance and neutrality.

Kabru grew to love his body, not just tolderate it or like it because someone else does. And if it tickles you, he liked the extra pounds Laios gained in the end, too. And if you're here for non-platonic Labru, then Laios may have became a bit of a feeder and has a tiiiiny food kink. Plus, Laios is a huge fan of the squish and Kabru likes how warm Laios is.

I just want to add this in here, also hecuase ive seen it before and i agree, but Laios seems like the type to give dutch ovens. He shows love like a big brother and its horrible (affectionate). This passes Karbu off SO BAD and it's hilarious. He has to sit down and have a very direct and serious talk about "getting too comfortable". And Laios would sit there the entire time like a sad dog and nod along.

Kabru and Laios also wrestle. No debate. They do it to spar, Laios does it for fun, Kabru does it to make Laios shut up. It's great!

Sorry this took so long lmao,, I legit just kept forgetting to write this

This was just word vomit. I've lost the plot somewhere along the way, I fear

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schrodinger-swriter · 8 months

Note

Could we get some headcanons on mutual pining for Alastor and the Reader? Who would confess their feelings first and all that. Love the writing, keep it up bruv

Alastor and the Reader crushing on one another

Thank you, that does mean a lot! Jumping into this blog I was a little weary that my writing would be a little... But I'm pleased to hear that you are all enjoying my bouts of word vomit!

If you're the first one to catch feelings he would notice it very fast. You're not the first person to admire the radio demon, and you will likely not be the last. He finds it amusing, and as long as you're not proving to be a nuisance to his plans and daily life he will let you follow him like the lost puppy you're coming off as.

But what if he were the one to catch feelings first? He would be beside himself. Him? One of the more powerful overlords in Hell, in love with someone? That wasn't supposed to happen, at least that's how he feels inside. Even worse if the feelings bubbled up on him, creeping into his being; refusing him the chance to stamp them out.

Around you he grows a little tense, but at the same time he can't help but long for your attention. He won't beg. He's better than that, but he might manipulate scenarios where you're left spending more time with him. Alone. Together.

I don't think he would confess first unless he feels he has the upper hand, if that makes sense. A lot of the things Alastor does is some sort of powerplay, even if you don't quite notice it. Besides, he thinks you stumbling over your words and trying to be brave is entertaining.

If anyone ever teases you for having a crush, he would lightly scold them, perhaps even implying it's not your fault. Whether you read that as him pitying you... really it can go either way.

I don't think anyone would be dumb enough to try to talk back to the radio demon, be it when he speaks up for you or by teasing him about his own feelings.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin imagine #alastor x reader headcanons #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor imagine #radio demon x reader #radio demon x you

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pretty-little-mind33 · 2 months

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Pietro Maxmioff x fem!reader

Summary: You're sad when Pietro almost misses your birthday.

Prompt: second chance - "You're really the prettiest girl I have ever seen."

Warnings: emetophobia (reader is drunk and she…yk)

~ kinda inspired by The Moment I Knew - T.S ~

PIETRO MAXIMOFF MASTERLIST

BLUE MASTERLIST

Your twenty-second birthday was supposed to be special. You only turn twenty-two once after all and to your detriment, all you could focus on was the fact that the one boy you wanted to see the most didn't even bother showing up.

His sister spent the entire evening feeding you excuse after excuse, starting with "he's just late," and if her brother wasn't exceptionally fast, making his tardiness even less impressive, you may have believed her.

You don't blame her for the excuses. He's her brother.

By midnight, you're completely shit-faced as your friends try distracting you from Pietro's absence—however, you aren't having any of it as you hold yourself up at the kitchen counter and ramble. "I know he's my ex and all, but it's my birthday. He knows how important my birthday is to me," you huff.

You reach for another shot glass when your ankle twists and you start to fall forwards. Luckily, or unluckily, for you, Pietro sprints into the kitchen at the same time, skidding to a stop in front of you as he hooks his hand under your armpits and holds you up.

"Careful, moje srdce (my heart)," he whispers almost into the shell of your ear and you shiver.

You're in no state to be happy to see him now, no matter how desperately you want to be. "Fuck off," you slur, pushing him away from you. "You don't get to play the fucking hero now, you jerk."

Pietro's hand steadies your waist and you stumble, slumping against him. He sends Wanda a look and she ushers the rest of your friends out of the kitchen as Pietro leads you into the nearby bathroom.

"Up you go, Princezna (Princess)," he says as he hoists you up to sit on the counter.

When he looks at you he frowns, knowing your tells from when you had been dating. "Sakra, drahoušku (oh shit, darling)," he mutters and speeds you down to the toilet bowl, holding your hair as the motion from his movement initiates your well-needed vomiting.

You cough, feeling so stupid as your head hurts.

"Shhh," Pietro's thumb rubs along your hairline.

After a few moments of not puking, he lifts you onto the sink again after helping you wash your mouth. His hand stays steady on your hips as your hands find his shoulders. You're having trouble focusing on him but you manage to ask.

"Why didn't you show up? I- I thought we had decided to be friends," you whisper, clearly hurt.

Pietro winces. How can he be honest with you and tell you the reason he didn't come sooner was because he wasn't planning on coming at all? He couldn't bear the thought of not having you in the way he had you on your last birthday. He couldn't bear watching you be happy without him, and some sick part of him revels in the fact that you weren't.

But he couldn't say any of those things to you.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," he says instead, cupping your cheek.

You turn your head away from him. "I looked so pretty earlier," you sniff, tears pooling in your eyes. "So pretty and you didn't see it. You only see me like this."

Pietro's eyes soften and he shakes his head. "You're still so pretty."

"Don't lie to me," you sniff and look at him now.

Pietro laughs and then narrows his icy blue eyes. "I am not, Princezna (Princess) You're really the prettiest girl I have ever seen."

His words cause warmth in your stomach and your eyes flicker to his lips. You miss him. You want to kiss him so badly. You want him.

Pietro senses this and as much as he wants this too, he can't now. One of his hands moves from your waist and insteadrests on your thigh as he rubs soothing circles into your skin with his thumb. "As much as I'd love to kiss you, you're drunk. We'll save that for later, hm?" he teases and instead kisses your cheek.

Your heart flutters. Is this a good idea? Kissing him again? Because kissing leads to more and last time it had been more, you'd both messed up your relationship severely.

"I don't want to mess this up again," you tell him, your intoxication making you more honest.

Pietro smiles. "I am still utterly in love with you, Y/n. Haven't been able to stop since we broke up. There is no more messing up for me. This is it," he whispers and looks into your eyes, meaning every word.

"Why did we break up?" you whisper, even sober you wouldn't have been able to pinpoint why. You had just been two dumb kids.

"I don't know," Pietro mirrors your thoughts. "But we shouldn't have."

You nod, chewing on your lip as you lean into him and his hand returns to your waist. As drunk as you are, you feel safe in his arms.

"No, we really shouldn't have,"

tags: @tansgirlfriend, @brokeaesthetic, @sayitlikethecheese, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld

#pietro maximoff #quicksilver pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff fanfic #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff fanfiction #pietro maximoff smut #pietro maximoff marvel #pietro maximoff fluff #pietro maximoff x you #pietro maximoff x y/n #pietro maximoff x fem!reader #pietro marvel #marvel #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver x fem!reader #avengers age of ultron #age of ultron

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teabutmakeitazure · 5 months

Text

Dissimulation - Continued Again

>Yan! Mafia! Childe x Fem! Student! Reader (Modern au)

>Word Count: 9.2k

>a/n: word vomit. i love him sm and i love having him do mental gymnastics just to get the girl (to get laid) also I wrote this in numerous pieces and by the writing changes you can tell lol. copium during finals. can't believe it's almost been a whole year since this fic was first published. also, I've had the same injury described later on. it bled a lot i thought i was gonna die.

Warnings: firearms, hidden blood kink, licking (I will not elaborate) childe doesn't like pillows, read at your own discretion

Part 1 | Continuation | reason why Childe #1 husband

Childe is waiting in the car.

That’s the thought that keeps repeating in your head. Honestly, it’s your fault. You insisted he not come with you inside, even going as far as getting mad at him when he initially refused. It’s only fair that you suffer the consequences of your actions.

You can still feel the muzzle of the revolver despite the layer of cloth separating it from your spine. How do you know it’s a revolver? Well, the bastard spun it before pressing it to your lower back. You’ve played enough video games to know what that sound belongs to.

“Stop walking so slow. Move it.”

You internally scoff at his words. If you move any faster, it’ll just be more suspicious. Well, good for you. If it’s suspicious then there’s a higher chance someone might intervene.

“To the right, right there.”

You do as he says. It’s not very tempting to disobey when there’s a loaded gun on your back. The man leads you down a small alleyway away from the hustle of the outdoor market. It’s dark, and there’s a pipe leaking somewhere. This is when dread really settles in, but you put on a brave face despite your trembling lip.

You hear the man click his tongue before ordering you to stop walking. The muzzle is still pressed to your spine, and he pulls out his phone with his free hand to call someone. “I got the girl here, so now you do your part.” Someone speaks on the other side, angering him. “You’re being delusional! This is the perfect chance,” he whisper-yells. “I got the girl here, so if things go bad, I shoot. We’ll at least do some damage.”

Shoot…? What the fuck did you get yourself into?

“The next time you call me back, it better be because the bastard’s dead or he’s given up.” With that, he angrily hangs up and shoves the phone in his pocket. You’re left facing the dead end of the alleyway, your captor behind you with his back to the only exit and entrance. “So,” he starts, “where did you first meet him?”

You decide to test the waters. From what you gathered so far, you are valuable until the other guy fails in what he’s supposed to do (which you have no clue of). “Me?” You feign innocence. “Meet who?”

He presses the muzzle even harder into you, making you stumble a step forward. “Don’t play dumb with me. Even if I kill you right now, it won’t affect anything. So tell me, where did you first meet him?”

You gulp nervously, heart beating in your throat. “T-the convenience store. It was a random occurrence.”

“And you knew who he was?”

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Hah. Stupid girl. Do you not know you’re the one usually targeted when he makes enemies? That you’re the face that comes up when he pisses someone off?”

Gaze dropping to the ground, you can’t help but think of all the kind things he’s done for you so far as you answer. “I had no choice.”

He clicks his tongue. “What, so he forced you to be his girlfriend?”

“I’m not his girlfriend…”

“So you’re just a pretty lady he keeps around?” Amusement is evident in his tone. He’s messing with you before he kills you. “Considering how expensive it was to find out about you, you’re damn special. If there’s one thing I know about Tartaglia, it’s that he’s not the type to keep a girl around for nothing or just her body. And that’s precisely why you’re in this situation.”

If you’re going to die anyway, you might as well say it. Ah, sorry mama. Couldn’t help it. “You think I’m pretty?”

Surprisingly, he takes it well. “I won’t deny you have a pretty face. I can see why he’d go to lengths to keep you a secret, but nothing can be hidden forever. Don’t worry. I won’t hurt your face when I kill you.”

Great. Now there’s stinging behind your eyes. This really is it. Maybe you should’ve told your parents you love them last night. Shit, is this really the end? So much for wanting to buy a birthday present from the market. Now you won’t live to see your next birthday.

The man groans out of annoyance, hand diving into his pocket to fish out his phone. “How long is he going to take…” You can hear him aggressively tapping at the device, and you wait for him to start whisper-yelling on the phone again but all that comes is the muzzle being removed from your back as something loudly whizzes through the air, and he lets out a silent cry of pain.

Something behind you falls to the ground with a thud, and judging how his voice seems to come from elsewhere, he’s the one who fell. “No, don’t come closer. I’ll shoot! I swear I will!”

You stay still, unknowing of what’s going on. Panic overtakes your senses, and your hands start trembling as you start feeling sick. Your body is going into fight or flight, and you really want it to choose flight. As you bring your trembling hands up into your view, a familiar voice calls out from behind.

“[Name], darling. Stay as you are. Don’t turn around.”

You freeze at Childe's words, immediately pressing your palms to your ears to block out some sound only to end up making it slightly muffled. The man is spewing profanities at him, trying to get on his nerves. “You scared of your toy dying? Is that why you’re here? Or maybe you were scared we’d take your little toy away from you? Do all the things to her you do but worse?”

Footsteps lightly grow closer, likely stopping by the man writhing on the ground, clutching his leg. Something clatters to the side, presumably the revolver he may have been pointing at Childe. When Childe speaks, his voice is laced with venom. “The girl is mine.” The man grunts, and Childe continues. “You have no idea how badly you’ve set me off. You better start praying to whatever you believe in.”

You cringe when you hear Childe kick him, heart beating even faster than before. Nausea tugs at you, making your eyes lose focus as you resist the urge to throw up or fall to your knees. Hands are still pressed to your ears when a body comes to stand behind you, yet it’s when arms wrap around you that you horribly flinch and move to elbow whoever it is, hyperventilating as you struggle to be freed.

However, Childe’s voice whispers in your ear, instantly making you relax. “It’s me.”

You are way too panicked to say anything useful. “Yes. Alright. It’s you. Not anyone else. Okay. Okay.”

One of his hands moves to cover your eyes, and he instructs you to keep them closed as he leads you out. The other hand is on your shoulder, and when you are away from the alley, he uncovers your eyes. Childe leads you to the market, stopping when you both enter its busy environment. He pulls out his phone, presses it to his ear without even dialling or accepting any call and hastily spews out the location of where you were earlier, firmly telling whoever it is on the other side to ‘deal with it’.

Nausea still stirs inside you, making you sick. You can feel the ghost of the muzzle pressing against you, and although you weren’t so horrified by it when it was actually happening, you are now.

Once again, Childe’s attention is back on you. His eyes focus on you solely, forgetting the busy environment around him and forgetting the issue he was addressing on the phone. He looks… concerned. Like a mother hovering over her child, he grabs your face with both hands, turning it side to side and carefully eyeing your features. He then pulls you into a hug, but you are too busy hearing your heartbeat in your ears to reciprocate and simply hide your face in his jacket instead.

“I’m so relieved,” he whispers. “Did he say anything to you? Hurt you? Touch you?”

After a shaky inhale, you focus your gaze on a random light source, willing away the sickness in your stomach. “No. Just a gun to my back. That’s it.”

“I am so sorry.”

Unfortunately, the nausea does not relent. “It’s fine.”

He holds you tighter. “It’s not fine. You were in danger.”

Though his warmth is comforting, you cannot move to hold him back. You can taste bile in your mouth, and you start profusely swallowing, yet Childe continues voicing his regrets. “I should have come with you. I shouldn’t have listened to you-”

Your voice shakes when you interject, the fear of what else might go wrong in public. “Quiet, please. I’ll throw up.” Your request is met with him gently rubbing your back, ignoring any glances from onlookers. When he feels that you are somewhat calm, you are led back to the car, the air conditioning turned on and your seat reclined as you cover your eyes with your forearm.

You don’t know why you feel sick and you don’t know why you keep thinking of a bleeding wound, infected and deep enough to show muscle and sinew. Worst of all, you don’t know what you should do now. Should you just ask to go home? Should you go back in? Get what you came here for?

Maybe you’ll come back later, with Childe. There’s still some time in your friend’s birthday and you can get her something later or make something instead. Yeah. That sounds right.

“Feeling any better?”

Your companion’s question makes you grumble. There are so many things that go wrong these days. Your relationship with him seems to loom over you like a raincloud wherever you go. Always accompanying you like a blight on your existence. It also does not help that information about you had initially come to light because he bought the house you both currently live in a week before you made that deal with him.

You still remember that conversation in great detail. When you had finally got to the airport, what waited for you when you came back haunted you throughout the journey. This arrangement isn’t something you were looking forward to. Remaining a student on a tight budget who eats instant ramen half the time for dinner would have been more preferable.

“Is there any way I can help? Do you need anything?” Childe voices more questions, but this time you don’t feel annoyed at him. If anything, you should be thankful. Sure, that occurred because of him, but he did save you.

Hand reaching to set the seat upright, you mentally go over the words you want to say. Now facing him, Childe gives you a curious look before you speak, the edges of your lips already stuck together. “I’m sorry.” He looks taken aback, but you continue. “I’ll… I’ll listen to you next time. And thank you for saving me. I had already said my prayers and apologised to my parents in my head, so thank you for letting that go to waste. I would rather it not be useful.”

Childe blinks. With a chuckle, he smiles, giving you that typical lovestruck expression he has when you do something he finds endearing. “And I personally wouldn’t know how to break it to your parents. Not after your mom asked me to look out for you.” The reminder leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, yet Childe still has something to say. “Of course. You don’t ever need to thank me. As long as you’re mine, alive and healthy, I don’t need anything else.”

The confession makes your eyes widen, and when you open your mouth to question his words, he cuts you off. “Do you want to get what you came here for or do you want to go home?”

“Home,” you reply immediately.

He nods, a hand reaching over to grab your seat belt. The action makes your heart skip a beat - “out of surprise,” you tell yourself - yet Childe does not mind. He fastens his own seat belt after yours and promptly moves to reverse the car out of the parking lot.

It is halfway through the way that you voice your thoughts, and Childe seems to hesitate.

“We have snacks at home,” he says.

Him and his healthy habits be damned. “You mean fruits. I don’t want fruits.”

“They’re healthy. You need nourishment.”

“What am I? A plant?”

Childe holds in a laugh with an awkward cough, a smile still there. “No, but you are a very dear person. I’ll cut some apples into bunny shapes, and we can eat the oranges I got yesterday. I’ll peel them for you, like always.”

Unfortunately for him, you do not yield, even going as far as to use his name since it usually makes him more submissive. “Ajax, I almost died tonight. I would like to be able to binge eat a bag of chips as I ease my worries.”

He negotiates again, albeit weakly. “Darling, you have a habit of stress eating. I know you can’t help it, but I just want to make sure you’re at least eating things that are good for you.”

“A bag of chips just this once wouldn’t hurt.”

You can see the gears turning in his head, and with a sigh, he concedes. “Fine. But only because you want to and have been eating well without complaints these past few weeks.”

The words seem like a parent pointing out a child on their diet, gentle yet still delivering the message. Despite everything, you would never admit that ever since he started butting into what you eat, your skin doesn’t break out as much and you’re almost always hydrated. He doesn’t need to hear the positive effects his presence has on your life from your own mouth. And he sure as hell doesn’t need to know that his hydration checks throughout the day are the reason why you drink water.

Yesterday, Chil- Ajax asked you something you could not say no to.

You keep justifying your acceptance with it being a sort of payback for him saving your life the other day even though you know you’re scared of saying no to him. Or maybe you just wanted to repay his kindness. It’s not like you asked for his kindness, but he is giving it to you. Goodness, the way he looks at you sometimes when you talk is just… if you didn’t know any better, you’d describe it as creepy.

But it isn’t. It isn’t creepy because the amount of genuine love in his eyes is just ridiculous. How can someone look at a person with so much love knowing they don’t reciprocate to that intensity? How can they be okay with that? You know Ajax is absolutely, positively in love with you. There’s no doubt about it.

You know so much about his family, and he’s always finding an excuse to talk to you. He asks you to talk to him because he likes your voice, and he sometimes stays in the room while you talk to your parents because he wants to see you be carefree in conversation.

He always gets you what you want without you knowing. Heck, he even gave you a credit card linked to his account! You don’t use it, but he gave it to you.

Back to the topic. You’re going out for dinner with him tonight as a date. You both leave at 7: 15 pm on the dot, and it is currently 6. You are freaking out currently too because what did you willingly agree to?

You know that bastard has been locked away in his room for over an hour now. You know he was giddy ever since he got home way too early today because of your evening plans. He’s way too obvious. And desperate. He’s also getting desperate.

There haven't been any romantic advancements in your relationship. You’ve just fallen into a casual routine at this point, and you aren’t bothered when he is there on your bed at any time you turn to look at it, even if you left the door closed. He cooks for you most of the time, and sometimes you mend his clothes so that he doesn’t buy new ones while completely ignoring the magical appearance of a shit load of sewing materials after the first time you did it.

It’s all gotten normal at this point. Seeing his credit card in your wallet every single time you open it, having to look at his mask sitting on a side table in the living room, watching him remove the dual pistols strapped to his body when he gets home, and much more. It’s all normal now. You’re used to it.

Yet your nerves are about to burst because you’re going out for dinner with him in an hour.

Honestly, after the dinner where he licked blood off your finger, you haven’t gone out for food with him since. You mostly eat at home, but the most you guys have done is takeout.

Anyway, what do you do? You don’t want to try hard lest unforeseen and unwanted developments occur, yet you also don’t want to not try at all because it might sour his mood. The latter is unpreferable simply because you can’t bear to see him sad. Maybe you’ll put in a little effort. Not too much but a little.

Had Ajax not been in the mafia, you would have already accepted him. You know you’re delaying the inevitable, that he will get what he wants, but you still can’t help it. Your conscience weighs you down. His identity ties you close to hesitance and denial.

Nevertheless, here you are, a cream coloured maxi skirt flowing till your ankles and a dusty pink blouse with bishop sleeves. You can’t believe you actually wore this. Ajax was the one who gifted the blouse to you, saying something like the colour being nice and wanting to see you wear it.

Well. He’ll get his wish now.

After at least five consecutive minutes of staring into the mirror, you finally decide to put on some makeup. Nothing too much. A simple mascara, blush, and lipstick after whatever you ended up putting on your skin first.

Great! Now, shoes. Shoes…

You fish out a pair of nude sandals with a pointed tip and a one inch heel. Perfect. Seems like your mother giving you her old sandals came in handy. After checking if they fit, you take a look at the clock. There’s still twenty minutes till the clock strikes 7.

Twenty minutes of agony as nerves eat you from the inside.

Right at 7:02 pm, there’s a knock on your bedroom door. Shaking hands unlock the door, opening it to nervously meet eyes with your lovely housemate. He stands on the other side, hair parted in the middle as best it could be. One side is tucked behind his ear while the other hangs on his face, framing his jawline perfectly.

You take note of the black dress shirt and black pants. The sleeves are rolled up and his earring is still there. Also, why is his shirt so fitted? You know he’s ripped. He doesn’t have to rub it in.

“You wore the shirt,” he breathes out.

“It’s a blouse,” you correct.

“Beautiful.”

The way his eyes seem to look you over in awe makes your cheeks heat up. With an awkward clear of your throat, you snap his attention back to your face. “Didn’t you say you made a reservation?”

Ajax perks up at that. “Right! We should leave soon.”

You are then left to grab your bag and sandals while he goes to fish out his car keys and wallet. When you’re seated in the living room, trying to fasten the little buckle on the sandals, Ajax is wistfully staring at you from the kitchen, cheek resting in his palm.

“We would make a cute couple.” A sigh and he looks at your feet, silently wishing you’d ask for his help with it instead. “Do you… need help with that?”

To his not so very surprise, you brush him off. “I’m fine.”

“Huh.” He asks again. “Are you sure?”

“Yup.”

He still wishes you would ask for his help instead. Do you not realise that he would do anything you asked him to? He would willingly get on his knees for you, hands gingerly trailing up your legs before he decides to rest one on his shoulder, the other pulling him towards you as his hand travels upwards and-

“Ajax? It’s almost 7: 15.”

He snaps out of his thoughts instantly. You’re standing near the door now, head tilted in that cute way he adores as you curiously look at him. A hand quickly flicks the kitchen light off as he walks towards the door. This is going to be another test of his patience. He knows it. He just hopes you don’t blame him for anything he might end up doing tonight.

“I don’t get it.”

Childe looks at you curiously only to find you glaring at the open menu. “I don’t know what to get,” you say. “Can you order for me? Whatever you think is good here. You know the stuff I like and don’t like, so I trust you.”

The explicit trust makes him smile. As per your request, Childe orders for you, but it’s something different than his own so that you can try both things. If you like the food, he might even take you out more often. Eating out once in a while shouldn’t hurt. Not if he’s with you.

As he leans back in his seat, he finds you playing with the buttons on your sleeve. Childe hastily utilises the opportunity to scan the indoors, eyes quickly flitting over every single person present. None have noticed either of you, and none seem to be looking at you. Good.

A quiet ding sounds from your phone, the screen turning on for a few moments. You reach for it instantly, but Childe is quicker, his hand covering the device before you could grab it. You obviously look nervous because of the action, but he gives you a small smile.

“No phone while we’re out eating.” The expression on your face doesn’t change, so he adds in something else. “Please?”

You capitulate instantly, and he pulls the device closer to himself with a playful smile. He now has all your attention for this evening dinner. If Childe plays his cards right, he could monopolise this opportunity and possibly convince you more to actually go out with him. Or let him put a ring on your finger. Whichever you’d prefer.

But first…

“I wish we could’ve stayed home instead,” he sighs.

You raise a brow at his expression, simultaneously wondering why he’s looking at you so wistfully here of all places. “Why? Didn’t you want to go out for dinner? You were looking forward to this.”

“Yes but-” He bites his lip for a moment. He isn’t lying. He’s being completely honest, but it still feels a bit weird to be admitting it directly to you. “But… you look so pretty and I don’t like knowing that other people can see you when you look so beautiful.”

It’s the truth. He doesn’t like knowing that anyone and everyone here has access to your existence. That they can simply turn their head and look at you in that skirt. He doesn’t care if it’s till your ankles. You look absolutely enchanting. Childe hates it that anyone can see your collar bones and your curious expression and the way you’re tilting your head at him and the way you’ve started fidgeting with your sleeve already.

All these lovely things about you are supposed to be for him only.

But they aren’t.

And he hates that.

“Hey. Eyes up here.”

He didn’t realise he started staring at your collar bones. God, he hopes you don’t think he was staring at your chest.

“Now that you’re looking into my eyes,” you groan, “I want you to calm down.” Almost instinctively, Childe crosses his arms out of displeasure, but you are quick to cool him down. “No one is looking at me. Nothing even happened and you’re acting all jealous. Calm down.”

“I’m not acting.”

“Then stop overreacting.”

“I am definitely not overreacting.”

You give him a look, the one you usually give him when you know he is keeping something from you, but you would rather not put the effort into digging it out of him. “Right.”

Childe is quick to defend, to put out the bait in hopes you’ll take it. “Sweetheart, you’re beautiful. Of course I’m going to be pressed if other people look at you and think the same.”

You sigh. “We’re only out for dinner.”

“Yes, but I just… I don’t know.” He traces the handle of the cutlery on the table, all the while ignoring how you’re still fidgeting with your sleeves. He’s making you nervous. He shouldn’t be making you nervous.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to burden you with my feelings.” Though you look like you want to say something, Childe beats you to it. “I love you, and I hope you know that I mean that word when I say it. I’m not afraid of saying the bigger word. I never will be.”

Both your hands have disappeared under the table. From the looks of it, you’re clenching them. How nervous are you? But wait. If he helps, if he shows you he can take care of you, then you might just…

Childe gently calls out your name, and you look at him with wide, innocent eyes. Poor thing. He asks you to show him your hands, and you comply. What you do not see coming is him gently grabbing the two before bringing them to cup his face. Childe especially presses the cold fingertips to his warm cheeks, effectively warming them up.

He’s thankful for reserving this relatively small table tucked away in a corner. No one can see your widened eyes and the look of adorable surprise on your face. No one.

Upon receiving no explicit refusal from your end, Childe grows bolder. The palms cupping his cheeks are each delivered a gentle kiss, and when there is no rejection, he moves lower, lips trailing to your wrists. This is when he feels the tug, the panic in the withdrawal. Your left wrist is in his mercy, soft lips tenderly pressed against your pulse, yet you tug your arm in retreat like a wounded animal.

Though it pains him, Childe lets go but only after making eye contact with you for a moment.

The face you give him is akin to one of a mixture of surprise and betrayal, and it dawns on him. This is the first time he’s touched you like this. Childe thinks he may have mixed his fantasies with reality because he did not ask for your permission for doing so. Now that he thinks about it, for a moment, he returns to the dreams and thoughts where he touches you as he pleases, and where you ask him to touch you. Where you climb onto his lap at random times of day and tell him how you are only his. How you want nothing to do with the rest of the world because he is your everything.

The only thing he wants is for those fantasies to become reality. Is that too much to ask for? Is it too selfish for him to ask that of someone so beautiful, so… heavenly?

Despite the shock on your face, you do not verbally express your thoughts. The silence is deafening. Your hands are clutched to your chest, and as the noise of the background fades into nothing but a quiet and continuous rumble, Childe’s thoughts start wandering. The first thing he wonders about is where he has to keep his eyes from straying. Your hands and your chest.

He can’t stop feeling the softness of your skin under his calloused palms. How your pulse felt under his lips. How it might taste if it bled. How warm the red might be. How red it might be.

Childe feels dirty for those thoughts, but he doesn’t care. He would gladly embrace such farcicalities if it meant you being the centre of his attention, your entire being on his mind more than his own existence. Then again, you are his life, no? Then why should he stop himself from thinking about you? Is it not wrong for a believer to not think about their worshipped deity? Likewise, it is wrong of him to forcibly shut your existence out of his wandering and lost thoughts.

Besides, the thought of you is where all his unruly and chaotic thoughts come together and finally make sense. So why should he not look at you like you were made from a piece of his ribs, fragile and the closest to his heart than anything can ever be?

“Ajax,” the name tumbles out of your mouth, and Childe feels like he can hear again. “Please stop staring like that. It’s getting creepy.”

An apology is quickly on his tongue, but you are quick to cut his words off before they can be uttered. “You’re acting a little weird.” He notices the worry on your face and the hands under the table. Childe thinks he doesn’t deserve you, but he’s selfish. Horridly so. “Are you feeling okay? We could go home right after eating if you’re not feeling too good, Ajax.”

You’re soothing him. Like how an owner soothes an unruly pet, you’re soothing him. How indulgent of you. Well, as long as you are thinking of him, he doesn’t mind playing like he’s putting the muzzle back on. You were never the one holding the leash anyway.

“I’m fine,” he replies. “Sorry. I just lost myself for a minute there. Were you saying something earlier?”

“Ah. No. Just… I was just asking if you were okay. I wasn’t saying anything earlier. Before that, I mean.”

Though tension has risen and it clearly shows in how your shoulders have stiffened, Childe cannot bring himself to mind. As long as your eyes are on him and him only, and as long as your voice graces his ears with his name, he won’t mind the discomfort in your countenance. It’s only a matter of time before you completely set aside denial.

It was halfway through dinner that you confessed telling your parents you’ll be home late tonight. This gave birth to an opportunity, and being the man that he is, Childe grabbed onto it like a desperate man. Questions were hushed and trust was exploited as Childe did what he could, what he wanted to do for so long.

The evening sea breeze never felt so good as it does now.

He stands with his arms resting on the railing, yet it feels different this time. It feels less lonely, more fulfilling, even if you both are in a secluded corner of the pier.

The lights from the opposite end of land reflects onto the water, and the smell of salt is in the air. Wind directly hits his face, hair flying back with it, but he’ll deal with the aftermath of it later. Right now, he’s waiting for you to be done with setting your hair so that he can talk to you.

You take a few more minutes to ensure hair doesn’t blow into your mouth or his face before joining his side, albeit at a distance large enough to fit another person which he promptly shamelessly closes. Yet when he turns to look at you, he is met with a raised brow.

“What?”

You’re quick to voice your observation, Childe’s eyes briefly focusing on the half-faded lipstick as he gives you his full attention. “Your hairline is a little uneven.” The sentence makes him chuckle, but you have more to add. “I didn’t think it’d be like that. It’s cute.”

“You’ve seen my forehead plenty of times.”

“I haven’t.”

He tilts his head. “Whenever I get out of the shower, my hair is slicked back. You’ve seen me get out of the shower.”

“Well,” you scrunch up your nose, “you’re shirtless and with only a towel. Why would I look at you then?”

“...” So all the times Childe has purposely walked by you in the living room or dropped off fruit when you’re studying while being fresh out of the shower was in vain. Why is he even surprised? Of course you wouldn’t look. It was daft of him to even consider that you would look. You avoid him like the plague whenever he tries to make a move. That does beg a question. Why have you been surprisingly cooperative tonight?

Are you planning something?

It can’t be. He keeps an eye on you. You go nowhere except class, occasional outings with friends, and shopping. Childe knows where you are at all times and with who and for what, with being the one taking you there. He even had you join that group project meeting online instead of in-person because it was in the evening and your group mates were all guys.

Considering those factors, there is no way you are planning something. He’s made sure of it. Besides, you are perfectly aware that you cannot try anything. Not only do you live with him, but he’s in the mafia. Were you to be missing or run away, you’d be back home before midnight.

There has to be another reason. Maybe you’ve grown more comfortable with him. Yes. That’s it. Perhaps it’s the delusion accompanying the compunction of all that he has done to you, but he believes you’re slowly laying down your defences. All that’s done is to wait till the wall is broken down too.

“Ajax,” you call, lips parting hypnotizingly, lipstick making them stick to the corners, “you’re staring again.” A pause, then you point something out. “You’ve been staring a lot tonight.”

He smiles, face resting on top of his arms crossed over the railing. “I can’t help it. You’re just so pretty.” You make a weird noise at that, but he chuckles. “I’m honoured to be breathing the same air as you. To be so close to you and see you with my own two eyes. I could never have said I’ve seen the world’s beauty before I saw you sitting behind that cash register in the store.”

You seem clearly taken aback at the sudden words. To be honest, Childe is too. He didn’t expect to say all that together. Still, if it conveys even a fraction of the intensity of his emotions, he’d say more.

A strand of hair falls into his eye when the wind calms, and he tries to blink it away. It’s disturbing his view of you. The way you’re looking at him as you think over your words feeds his proprietorial nature, for your words are all his to hear and your being all his to keep. Childe would keep you even if it means he has to hide you from the rest of the world lest you slip from his grasp.

Yet you are so good to him that he always melts at your unexpected surrenders. The time when you sewed up his shirt when he got a long, narrow cut at his side. The time when you made dinner and left some for him before going to bed when he texted you he’ll be home very late. The time you willingly came to him with your worries and let him console you.

And the way you remove the strand of hair that’s in his eye and allow him to look at you without obstructions.

If he could, he’d merge your beings into one so that no one else could ever have you, and you’d be his forever. He isn’t willing to break you to have you, but he is willing to hurt you just a little bit.

But before all that, he needs to figure out a way to make you all his. If it means putting a ring on your finger or faking your death or hiding you away from the world, he doesn’t care. You have to be all his.

From your body to your soul to your thoughts to your feelings to your touch to your very being. All. His.

“Ajax, you’re staring again.”

He stands up straight at that, one hand still grabbing the railing as he takes a step closer to you. This time, he does not smile. “Why don’t you love me?”

You question his sudden change in demeanour, but he presses further. “Why don’t you love me? What’s wrong? Tell me. I’ll fix it. I’ll fix us. Tell me how I can make you love me.”

Childe moves closer, and you instinctively move back, making him frown, but he soon cages you between the railing and his body. There’s not much space between you both, and you’re certain he would be able to hear your heart beat wildly if he moved just a tad bit closer. Nevermind the fact that your skirt is blowing with the wind and his legs are obstructing its path.

“I’m doing everything I know. Just tell me. All I want is your heart. All I want is you.”

You are quick to defend. “I already live with you. What more is there?”

“You,” he replies, breathless. “You don’t love me. You only live with me.”

“Because agreeing to that is why you let me go back home for the summer,” you remind him. “Well, I suppose either way I would have been here. If I said no, you would’ve taken me there earlier.”

“Do you feel trapped?”

“What do you think?”

Childe chuckles at that. Though he is culpable for this predicament, he also holds the power to change it to his favour. “Tell me then,” he whispers, wind once more blowing in his hair, “what do you want?”

Unfortunately for him, you play his game on equal footing. “Would you grant it?”

“No.” The look in your eyes is something smug, but he humours you anyway. “I can’t guarantee I won’t, but I guess it depends on what you ask me.”

A scoff accompanies your words now, the nervousness apparent in the way you grip the railing behind you for dear life. “You’ve told me numerous times you’d give me anything I want. Why are you so hesitant now?”

“Because I know what you are about to ask, and I’m afraid I can’t give you that.”

“And what am I about to ask?”

“To be able to leave me for good,” he spits out.

You simply shake your head. “No. Not at this moment at least.” Confusion laces his features, but you press your body impossibly closer to the railing. “I wanted to ask for some space. It’s… it’s uncomfortable like this. Please take a step back.”

Childe obliges instantly. Blue eyes watch your once white knuckles have colour return to them, and suddenly he feels a little childish for cornering you like that. A quiet sigh from your end steals his attention, yet he remains standing where he is, another demand on the tip of his tongue.

“Move in with me,” he says. “Move into my room. It’s been too long in the guest room already. You don’t need to stay there anymore.”

Frankly, you’re surprised. You thought he forgot about that by now considering that he never brought it up again.

“You’ve seen it. My room is bigger. I got this place because the master bedroom was big and it’ll easily fit both our things. You can make the guest room your study room if you want, but just move in already.”

He gives you that look again, the demanding one that makes you painfully aware of how dull and lifeless his eyes are. Although you have grown used to it and it doesn’t bother you as much, it still reminds you that if he wished, he could have done worse things to you. But he hasn’t. He waits and waits and waits till he’s about to bubble over. Till his feelings threaten to boil and spill out of the pot and even then he somehow calms it down enough to be coherent. Al because he promised to think about you before his own selfish feelings.

“We can start tomorrow,” Childe suggests, “or even tonight, there’s still time. You’ve been living with me for long enough. It’s time you actually moved in.”

Even while you are quiet, Childe has a million thoughts running through his head. Bed, lonely, empty, cold sheets, cold pillows, empty dressing table, empty nightstand. He recalls the room you’ve turned into your personal haven, the cluttered dressing table, the nightstand with a ton of wires, the eraser dust that’s almost always on the ground near your table, and the warm feeling that envelopes him whenever he enters this little haven of yours.

He needs to have you more or else he doesn’t know what he’d do. And he doesn’t want to know what he’d do to you.

“I hear you,” you speak up, successfully interjecting his thoughts, “but we’re not in a relationship. We can’t just start doing married couple things.” You make a face, scrunching up your nose like you always do. “Living in different rooms is appropriate because we’re still-”

“Marry me then.”

You shut your mouth immediately.

“Your problem is our relationship right?” Childe takes a step closer, eyes focused on yours. “Then marry me. Problem solved.”

“Wait. Ajax, that’s too fast. Calm down.”

“That’s not ‘too fast’. We’ve been living together for almost a year now. We’ve known each other for over a whole year. This isn’t fast.”

Regardless, you try to de-escalate it. De-escalate his rashness. “Okay. I understand. But we’re too young and my parents wouldn’t allow something like this so suddenly-”

“Leave them to me. I’ll handle getting their approval. They seem to like me anyway. That’s all you’re worried about right? And we’re not young. We’re adults.”

The apprehension grows. You do not know how this idea popped into his head, but you blame yourself for mentioning ‘married couple’ earlier. Why is he so obsessed? Is having you in his home constantly under his vision not sufficient?

“So what’s your answer? Or do you want to wait while I get a ring and you speak to your parents?”

The anxiety starts eating you from the inside. You know you can’t escape him. You’re too deep into his clutches to even consider escape, but you still hold onto feeble hope that you can delay the inevitable just a little longer. “Fine. You’re ready and okay for such a thing, but I’m not ready for such a big step.”

Contrary to your expectations, Childe’s mood further sours. “That’s what you always say.” As soon as the words are uttered, Childe remembers thinking to himself how he hoped you won’t blame him for anything he might end up doing tonight. Well. If it allows him to have you, he’d do anything. “The only difference would be that we’d be closer. Nothing else.”

“We’re close enough,” you meekly comment.

“So you don’t want to marry me?”

“No, it’s not that I don’t, but…”

“But?”

You think over the time you’ve lived under his roof. He has been controlling, sure, but he has been more accommodating and understanding. If you were to bet your life on one thing, it would be that Ajax would always unequivocally love and care for you. Besides, this is inevitable. The moment he locked eyes with you at your job, it had been decided that this would happen. That you would be his.

Delaying and denying all this simply makes you miserable. Who are you to deny such affection? Such love that suffocates you, surrounds you constantly with eyes in the shadows watching your every breath. Who are you to deny a man who has countless times told and showed you that he’d drop to his knees for you on a moment’s notice?

He may control your life and future, but you control him as well. Or you do to an extent at least. What his words cannot express, his hands and eyes do, and those things are precisely what have kept you going on the hope that the inevitable is not as horrifying as you delude yourself into thinking of it.

Ajax loves you, and you’d be damned if you refuse his love. Not only is there no way out, but you think you do not want out anymore. You’re too deep in his web.

Besides, you know that if you were to refuse him, he’d try again and again before eventually forcing it upon you. It’s better to accept. You can’t delay the inevitable.

Warm hands cup your face, thumbs rubbing the corners of your eyes. “Don’t cry,” he whispers, and you blink away tears you did not know you were shedding.

Minutes pass on the secluded corner of the pier, and when he is satisfied with how much you have calmed down, he lets you go. Hands hang by his sides as he waits for an answer, but you don’t keep him waiting. With a gentle pat to his cheek, you give him your answer.

“I’ll start moving my things in the morning.”

His celebratory smile only grows when you continue speaking.

“And… I’ll start talking to my parents. I’ll let you know the updates.”

You were in the middle of organising your things when the realisation dawned on you. You’re moving into his room. All of your things will go there. All of your things. Does this mean you both are officially in a relationship? That means he’s going to wake up next to you, go to sleep next to you, and you’re going to share a wardrobe with him. Even a bathroom.

This might just make his possessive nature worse. But it’s alright. You can talk sense into him. He usually does listen to you.

Nevertheless, you can’t help but wonder… Why are you accepting of this? Somehow the idea of being so close doesn’t bother you as much as you think it should. Do you really like him that way? Are you in denial?

Ajax’s voice calls out to you, asking if you need any help. You’re currently in the middle of going through your clothes, and you would rather he not bear witness to seeing your undergarments and clothes thrown haphazardly across the bed. Thus, you tell him no and continue organising, putting home clothes separate and classifying the rest accordingly.

When those are done, you let the piles be on the bed and move to your dressing table. Expired and empty containers are chucked into the bin, and you grab the rest and move outside, passing by a curious Ajax in the living room and making yourself home in his room. The bottles are carefully placed amongst his things, and soon the dressing table looks cluttered.

Well, to be used is to be messy. It’s okay.

You return to the piles of clothes and transport each pile one by one onto his bed. When all have been gathered, you place them in the space he’s apparently kept empty for you ever since he moved here in an orderly fashion, making sure all your undergarments are in the locked drawer instead of the regular one. There are no fingers or accusations pointed, but there is also no complete trust in this matter.

Ajax trails behind you this time, curiously watching you take your toiletries and place them in his bathroom. He eyes the addition of a new shampoo and conditioner and other bottles he doesn’t care to classify but is happy to simply see them there. You make the journey back to your ex-room and gather all your chargers and wires only to find yourself untangling them first.

“Do you need help?”

You’re quick to refuse, but he still stands there watching. Gathering them all in your hands, Ajax is tempted to offer his help again but closes his mouth when he remembers you telling him to “not butt in” while you move your things. So, he watches you and trails behind you. He follows you around and watches you as you bump into the sofa’s edge when he calls your name and stumble forward only to lose your footing and fall straight onto the floor.

It did not help that your arm had slid against the edge of the centre table and you horribly skinned the back of your arm.

Ajax stands there, horrified for a moment, before he ignores the cluttered mess of chargers and wires and crouches down beside you, immediately checking your injuries and helping you sit up. But it does not help him when he sees blood slowly starting to ooze from the mess of broken skin and you wince when he gently grabs your hand to look at the wound.

Regardless, he cups your face with the other hand while simultaneously looking you over for other injuries. When you assure him and his repeated questions that it’s just your arm, he relaxes a bit. However, he cannot help it. There’s more blood now, not a lot but enough to completely cover the broken skin, and if he leaves it be, it might start trickling down your arm before the wounds close.

So, Ajax does what his mind wants him to do. He kisses the skin near the wound at first, completely ignoring your questioning look, and slowly moves towards the injury. Soft lips glide over the skin, inching closer towards the desired target. Then, when he can feel your gentle tugs to be let free, he tightens his grip and licks.

Ajax licks some of the blood, the texture of broken skin welcomed by his tongue. You sit there horrified and extremely confused while he licks it again before freezing and letting go.

Awkward eye contact ensues, and your face clearly shows how utterly puzzled and alarmed you are. Nevermind the fact that those were wet licks and your arm has his saliva on it and the broken skin he lapped up is on his tongue which he is sneakily trying to swallow.

Minutes pass, and you finally gather the composure to speak. “Ajax. What the fuck?”

He is quick to be defensive, knowing full well you’ve been so good to him these days and he can’t afford to scare you off. “I just… I let my intrusive thoughts win. Sorry.”

Your terror only grows. “I don’t even want to know what your intrusive thoughts are anymore. Well. At least your licking distracted me from the pain. It doesn’t hurt anymore with your spit on it. Gross. Wash your mouth after this.”

Somehow, a smile stretches on his face. “Wash my mouth? After getting to have a piece of you? Sweetheart, a little bit of you is in me. Why would I ever not want that?” You open your mouth to interject but are cut off. “If I could, I’d make us become one. That way, I don’t have to worry about you thinking of anything else except me.”

You’re quite… speechless. Did he really just indirectly admit he wants to eat you? What the hell??

“Speaking of which,” Ajax whispers, “forgive me but another intrusive thought won.” With that, he moves closer. Close enough in your face to have your noses brushing. To his surprise, you do not create distance, allowing him to fan his breath over your lips as he slowly turns his head.

The only thing stopping his lips from kissing yours directly is his hand on your lips.

When he pulls away, Ajax’s blue eyes meet your widened ones, your face flushed and clearly flustered. Unfortunately for you, a grin is on his face. “I’ll kiss you for real when you say yes to the ring. Then, I'll make your body mine too.”

With that, he gets up and grabs the first aid box while you sit with his spit drying on your arm. You are sometimes genuinely terrified of him. This is one of those times.

“Don’t lick me ever again.”

Ajax frowns at that. “If you forbid me, then how am I supposed to go dow-”

“Stop! That’s enough!” You successfully shut him up, and he continues disinfecting your injury in silence. “Do not spew such mindless words ever again.”

Unfortunately, he catches onto your words, smiling mischievously. “I’ll do it if you do one thing.” When asked for his conditions, Ajax shamelessly gives his request. “Tell me you’re mine. That I’m the person you want.”

When you show hesitation, he is quick to remind you that you’ve agreed to completely move in with him and agreed to sleeping with him. Thus, you acquiesce.

“I’m… Ugh, I can’t believe I’m saying this.” He chuckles, but you continue humouring him. “I’m yours, Ajax.”

He pushes further. “And?”

Your cheeks heat up, and you meekly let out the second part. “And… you’re the person I want.”

As soon as the desired words leave your mouth, Ajax is soothed. Soon, he’s disinfected the mess of broken skin and tied a bandage around your arm for the time being so that you don’t accidentally hurt yourself again. When asked about his payment, you simply pat his cheek like you do, but decide to scratch the skin behind his ear before travelling upwards into his hair.

With a last pat to his head, you leave him a blushing mess with messy hair as you return to the wires scattered on the ground, picking them up before continuing what you were doing. It doesn’t serve him right that you casually rendered him paralysed and just got up and left. But then again, that is the least you should do against him after what he has done to you.

Flustering someone does not compare to putting them in a fancy cage. Well, Ajax’s deceit makes it hurt more. If you knew the full extent of his desires, you would never let him breathe the same air as you. But you do not. And that is precisely why he plans to slowly let them surface, to allow you time to accept him. He just hopes he doesn’t grow impatient with how good you’ve been.

(Bonus scene)

“What do you mean you want a pillow wall between us?”

You don’t mind Ajax’s childish whines, instead busying yourself with moisturising your face. But when he moves to remove a pillow, you are quick to turn and give him a glare. “I agreed to sleeping next to you and moving into your room. The least you can do is give me time to settle in and let me have a damn pillow wall.”

Ajax slowly puts the pillow back down quietly, and you turn around to close the moisturiser bottle. Though you catch a glimpse of him glaring daggers into the pillow wall, you continue cleaning the clutter of your things on the dressing table.

You’ll take it away in a few days. Let him suffer for a few nights.

#childe x reader #yandere childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #yandere tartaglia x reader #yandere childe #yandere tartaglia #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader

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decolonize-the-everything · 2 months

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Source

I'm a parent. I'm disabled and native. And I think while she used her responsibilities and vulnerabilities as an excuse, the real substance of that entire word vomit boils down to this one thing she said:

"I won't help anyone in the wake of it." "I'm not dying."

I bet she's not in a union and hasnt even looked up mutual aid groups in her area, either. "How do we protect ourselves" How does that change really? How does she or anyone else protect themselves from police now?

Is she actually asking for a militia?? But then that's not protecting yourself is it. Even then, again I'm sure she could start getting her family training if she was so concerned.

Especially since liberals are ALWAYS saying "it'd be easier to organize under a Democrat"

Do you think these type of people know what organizing actually entails and demands of them personally?

Liberalism is a mindset of privileged victims who feel guilty about preferring their privilege to equality and I've never met a liberal who changed my mind about that.

It's bullshit and gaslighting to say every year "it's just unrealistic," and blame leftists for not doing more when liberals know full well that they've taken No steps towards progress or preparation and have no intention of helping anyone but themselves in any other system anyway.

When we say liberals are fascists that's why.

They pretend to be progressive til their faces turn blue but they have no actual interest in changing the oppressive systems that exploit the marginalized because liberals benefit from that exploitation (cheap luxury products & food from globally underpaid/enslaved workers for example)

It sounds like "not right now, first we have to get (Democrat that hurts marginalized ppl but is good for most privileged people) in office!"

And there is never a point where they will concede to the needs of anyone else because liberals are having their needs met and that's what matters. If it wasn't then they wouldn't be so eager to ask everyone else to stop voting for their own needs getting met, but they do "be realistic!" they say when the candidate You need isn't who they want. "Think of the country," they'll tell us while refusing to think of anyone who democrats hurt.

Liberalism is an ideology nearing religion that takes precedence over any other duties you may have to your community or society. Upholding liberalism is the single most important thing a liberal can do, even at the expense of allies and human lives both within and outside U.S borders.

Both Republican and Democrat parties function perfectly fine within the same government because they aren't that different. They're different flavors of the same type of government.

Fascism.

"you don't know what you're asking for"

That's crazy because we could say the same thing right back.

And do you really expect us to stop fighting fascism just because its an uncomfortable experience for the people who profit from it?

We know exactly what we are asking for and I know I would do anything for my daughter to have a better future. If that means ruining a white lady's TikTok feed then so be it.

My kid is a chubby autistic brown girl. She isn't going to have the same life as that white lady's kids. Not even close.

And if that lady won't help my kid now by joining a union or googling mutual orgs and won't help my kid in the chaos of a power shift then why the fuck should I care about the anxiety she has about it???

You think I don't have fucking anxiety?? You think white liberal moms that live in nice houses and have food in the cupboards are the only people who feel afraid????

I'm going to be fending for myself either fucking way and that's what liberals don't understand about marginalized leftists.

We're already living the realities you're afraid of. There are already people who can't access their life saving medications! People are dying! We are asking for help and nobody is coming so we are having to save ourselves everyday!!!! Like he said, look around!!!

We know what we're asking.

We're asking you to give a shit and help.

And we know it won't feel great but we're asking y'all to have some fucking solidarity and do it anyway

#liberal negligence is white supremacist violence #systemic oppression #liberalism #privilege #leftist #capitalism #solidarity

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barcaatthemoon · 4 months

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Could you do “I’m only going to say this once. You’re the only one I think about, day in, day out. And it’s so fucking scary, feeling like this.” with lia wälti pls

running || lia walti x reader ||

"(y/n)!" lia called out as she chased after you. nobody had understood why you had pitched a fit whenever jonas told you about playing against city. to be fair, you hadn't told the team about your ex that played on the team. "where are you going?"

"home," you answered. lia watched as you shoved your things from your locker into your bag. "i can't be here anymore."

"stop-," lia placed her hands on yours to stop you, "-talk to me. i want to help you if you'll let me. what happened out there?"

"she's so frustrating. all i wanted was a little more, but she wanted it to be casual. now she's out there kissing her new girlfriend out and fucking proud." tears brimmed around your eyes. lia sighed as she pulled you in for a hug. it hurt to hear you caught up on your ex, but she hated to see you upset even more. "and i'm not even into her anymore, but it just hurts."

"i understand," lia told you. her voice was soft, just as soft as her hands as they cradled your face. "sometimes, we see things that bring up old feelings. why don't you get cleaned up and we can go to the bus."

at this, you froze a little, "j-just the two of us?"

"i don't see anyone else around, and i really want to make sure you're not all alone. there's not anything wrong with that, is there?" lia asked you. she was terrified of hearing you tell her that you hated her or something. lia tried so hard with you, and sometimes, you tried to avoid her like the plague.

"no, i guess not," you mumbled.

"you guess not?" lia looked heartbroken, and in a rushed attempt to fix things, you definitely caught a case of word vomit.

"i'm only gonna say this once because that's all i can manage. you're the only one i think about, day in and day out. and it's so fucking scary, feeling like this. one day you're just going to come to your senses, and i'll have to go sprinting back to america again," you said.

"i won't push you away, and i'd never let you run that far from me. i love arsenal, it's my home, but i'd follow you to america," lia told you. she didn't miss the way that your eyes lit up, but there wasn't much more to focus on for either of you when she leaned over to press a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #lia walti imagine #lia walti x reader

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jakesangel · 3 months

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unrequited love w jake - 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒃𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 event request

preview : he is always putting you first, why can't he be his girlfriend. allas, you're only his childhood best friend

word count + genre : angst ( i tried to ) . 3.1k ( word vomit so it's not proofread

warning : dorm roommate, childhood best friends, confession, rejection, happy ending, reader gets in her head easily but never cries, jake is a sweetheart

having jake as a bestfriend is the best thing possible in the world. the sweet australian boy who always help you for your physic exams or who's being his dog layla when you're on your period. but it's also the worst thing because of random girls asking you for his number or being hugged by him because you're his cute little sister. it's even worse because no boys are hitting on you, being too scared of to hit on the leader soccer team's favorite girl. so you're jsut left to watch your love story inexist, daydreams of kissing jake the only thing you can do.

baby y/nie ? are you listening to me ? he said with a pout when he realized you werent listening to his usual lego rants while doing lego. sorry jaeyunie, i just keep thinking about our last exam, but i'm here now, you say as you try to convince him tho the pet name made you sadder than what your thoughts did. y/n ? youre okay ? his worry overtaking his body, dropping the lego piece comming closer to you, you know im here for you hm ? his round eyes searching yours. yes, i promise yunie ! im sorry for worrying you, please tell me about that star wars lego set ? to pretedn to the fullest youre acrually okay, you finish your sentence with your hand on his cheek, smiling softly at him but it wssbt needed as hearinf the wors star wards and lego set together pearked his imaginary puppy ears. he goes back on the set, talking about how excited he is for the pieces to arrive tomorrow, indirectly asking you to do them with him tomorrow . i'm studying tomorrow yunie, i’m not done yet with the last chapter, you reply with some sadness filling your voice, not believing of what you gonna say next, but you could do it with emma ? he gives you a confused expression that can only warms your heart, emma ? why would i do lego with her ? its our thing baby y/nie, he answers nonchalently, as he places the last piece on his now finishes thor hammer. finally ! its looks so good isnt it ! he shows you the piece finally done, come on we need to put it up, it's the best one we've ever done ! he excitedly said, jumping on his feet to go to his bedroom. you followed smiling to his puppiness but also from his unasked reasurance. wouldn't it be better in the living room ? i want to see it too, you say w round eyes too, genuinely wanting to see you guys work everyday. which he is more than happy to comply, his love for your happiness alwaya taking over when it fomes to you. omg yes ! always having good ideas, y/nie !, kissing your cheek as he goes to tje round tbale in the center of the kivinf room.

it comes to a shock, coming back from classes to see the said emma on the sofa, checking the lego pieces done just a day before. oh hi y/n, i didn't hear you coming, she said staying on the sofa, just turning around, not even greeting you properly. she has that arrogant smile of hers, paired w her high knee boots and mini skirt. you smile back, going straight to your room, studies waiting or you, you know i should thank you for talking about me to jake but it would be hypeocite of me to do so. we all really really hate you, so please, once jake is mine, stop bothering me hm ? she warned me before turning around to reapply your lipgloss. you can't even defend yourself as jake comes back from his room, smiling at you. baby y/nie ? how was your day ? he asked as he comes for a hug. just classes, you know how it is. you ? you hug him tighter to piss emma even more. as much as he will never date you, he is still your jake and everyone knows it, that she likes it or not. dont wait for me tonight, im having dinner with emma. but i made you your usually study snack and ive made a study plan waiting for you on ur desk. please use it well hm ? he softly says, detaching from you, see you later baby y/nie, domt stuyd too late! he says, coming closer to her, not even looking at her but taking the girls hands, making her proudly smile at you, winning the mental battle you both had. he doesnt even see it as he waits for you to bid him goodbye, which you gladly do, not forgetting to add the baby innfromt of his name, makimg him giggle and getting a frown from her. finally gone, you enter your bedroom, plopping on your bed, softly sighing, taking in everything that had happened. why would she hate me ? ive never ever talked to her, but when she asked me his phone number. and who is we ? are the girls threatened by you ? do they think i have a chance with jake ? or even the boys ? that would explain why none of thek ask me out ? but what about him ? is emma even his type ? she is pretty and seems smart but she is also so arrogant and entitle ? cant he see it ? or is it actually what he likes ?

trying to study is useless, your thoughts belonging to jake, you can only take a shower and pray for the best tomorrow. but even as you shampoo your hair, you can't help but think about emma's reaction. was she really scared of you or is it just her usual self ? so you've been standing there, the water hitting your scalp, for 30 minutes, trying to figure out what you should do. if she was really scared of you that means you can actually have a future with jake as your boyfriend. all the baby y/nie or little gesture will come out as romantic and not as his little sister anymore. as you realized you have a chance, you finish your day in peace, eating the snack jake made you, his infamous ramen, heating it up before going the watch a movie on the sofa. it's only mid movie in, you hear the keys in the door, announcing jake's arrival. i'm in living room ! you whisper yell, letting him know of your presence. y/nie ? why are you still awake at this time bby, he say wrapping his arms around your neck, are you done studying, he finally whisper in your ear, making you all fuzzy. not really, but i saw your study plan, i'll read it before sleeping. join me ? the movie is almost done. you offer, your head titling so you can look at him, i also want to cuddle with you and you can tell me about your date ? you ask cutely, knowing jake wouldn't never say no to cuddles with you. anything you want bby, he says with a kiss before detaching himself from your back. he would smile as he lay on your belly, indirectly asking you to play with his hair, which isn't even needed to be asked. he rubs his face on you, almost cat like, and hums finally getting comfortable. did you have a bad day yunie ? you seemed okay earlier. you softly ask, still brushing hair hair. yeah, it's just emma. she isn't how i thought she was and she talked bad about you so im just disappointed. i could never date someone who doesn't like you bye y/nie, you mean to much for me he says, his head finally lift up, looking right at you. besides she is too much of a diva, i prefer someone like you. someone who wouldnt judge me for playing legos or playing with my hair without needing to be asked to, he smiles at you. i'm really lucky to know you y/nie, he finishes, his head finally going back on the rubbing, acting as if those words were normal to be told, but you know jake is someone really vocal, specially to you, but you can't help but hear something else. like he wants you. and more than just friends. me too yunie, im really really happy to have you by my side. besides who wouldn't want to play with your soft hair, i love them so much. you say making the both of you giggle. and it's like that, the day ends, jake laying on you and you playing with his hair, comfort filling the living room.

omg jake wake up ! we're gonna be late for the exam ! is how up you started your day. but you're now, here, almost tearing where you were soothing jake yesterday who is now the one comforting you, which is something you hate the most. i'm okay jake, we don't have to talk about it, let's just order pizza please. jake knows you aren't the type to talk about your feelings, specially when you feel like crying but for some reason today he can't stop pressuring you, come on y/nie baby, we can talk about it. im sure u didn't do that bad, you'll do better next time, he tried to reassure you, his hand coming to your hair, stroking it. jake, you said, going back, leaving a inch between the two of you, i do not want to talk about it. are you gonna order them or should i do it, you reply almost too coldly. y/n please, i know you, you don't have to keep it in. i'm sorry you feel disappoint- if you know me you'd know i don't want to talk about it nor do i enjoy being in this position right now, jake, you cut him off leaving the living room to go in your bed room, leaving a sad puppy by himself. you feel awful for snapping at him, but you couldn't help it as your nerves are already hanging w a thin thread because of that exam. and having jake all over you, interrogate you with question over your feelings is too much.

you didn't realized you zoned out, right here, sitting up on the edge of your bed, until you hear jake's knock on your door, y/n ? can you open the door please ? you hear a scared jake on the other side of the door, yeah come in, making him enter your bedroom. he never looked this sad, your best friend never wanted to make you sad or be the cause of your distress. ive ordered the pizzas do you want some ? he softly ask, slowly coming towards you, scared to do the wrong thing. it's in the kitchen if you do want it. he is finally in front of you, kneeling up to see your face. i'm sorry if i pressured you, y/nie, i know you don't like being vulnerable. i don't know why i pressured you. he softly tells, his finger lifting your chin to look at him. my apologize baby. he finishes with his eyes asking for forgiveness. i'm so sorry too, i shouldn't have lashed out on you, you say as you throw your arms around you. you're always so so nice to me, i shouldn't have snapped at you. i'm sorry jake, you really dont deserve it, as your arms thigthens around his neck. hearing you, only made his heart sadden, he picks you up by your thighs, to make you more comfy in the bed w a come on baby,let's get you comfy. you can only giggle to that making his heart and mind happy again. once settled, your head on his chest, his on your pillow, a comfortable silence falls upon the both of you. his arms encircling you and his thumbs softly stroking your skin, his soft scent filling up your nose, made you feel such at peace. cuddling with jake is always so calming and comforting and it's somehow making you fearless to tell him your true feelings. jaeyunie ? you say looking up to him, asking for his attention. hm ? he just replies , already looking at you. always looking at you. i feel really good with you. i love being in your arms or playing with your hair. you're confident jake likes you back, he wouldn't be here if he didn't right ? me too y/nie baby, me too, he softly chuckled, happy that you arent mad at him anymore. no jake i mean it, i love it all. youre so nice, and smart and i just can't help but want to be more than your best friend. you expected to see a jake smiling at you, but you're faced with a jake with a confused furrowed brows. what ? as he detach himself from you, to actually look at you, looking for any joke in your face. i hate it when you go on dates with others girl or when you call me baby because im a year younger than you, i want to be the one holding your arm on friday nights or being called baby because you like me as your gf, you explain yourself, the end of the your phrase said in a whisper. and the once comfortable silence became anxious to you, jake processing your tirade. do you not feel the same way ? you asked scared of his verdict, but that only made him leave the room, shock overtaking him.

since then jake been avoiding you. the once nights fulled of braiding jake's hair and legos are now replaced with the living room empty, the light always turned off. jake spent his time either at practice or in his room, even avoided you in the kitchen, going in when you leave or leaving you when you go in. you on the other hand, is busying yourself with studies trying to do your best for the next final but it's mostly to stay in denial of your current situation. you've lost your best friend, and every time you come out of your room, the thor hammer keeps reminding you of it. he even stopped offering his help for any studies, or prepared you any study snacks. he stopped looking at you or mentioning you. the girls also stopped coming to you for his number, sensing the shift of your dynamic with him, but going straight to him. it even more painful now to see so many dolled up girls all over him, all of them knowing you aren't in the picture anymore. so here you are, spending a friday night by yourself after the long week full of studying n repressing your feelings. you know jake isn't going to be here tonight, surely in one of many dates he has, so you snuggle yourself on the couch along with snack you bought yourself earlier. but it came to a surprise, to see jake arriving at 7pm. he stops when he sees the tv light on, not knowing if he should greet you or not. he simply stay frozen, the both of you staring at each other, but like a week ago, he leaves you alone, going into his bedroom. and you thought all of this didnt affected you that much, but as you have nothing to focus on anymore, you can only cry, right there, in front of the movie you picked earlier, for the first time in a long time.

the tears keep failling down as the movie goes by, the tv light the only thing linking your mind and reality together, you can't even hear how loud you are. your sobs doesn't go unnoticed by jake, coming out of his room. you don't even hear his first y/n ? your back the only thing he can see. he never saw you nor hear you crying, and the scene in front of you is way too funny to make you cry. so he calls again, louder, with no answers but the slightest from the movie. he tries one last time, with a hand touching your shoulder, making you leave that weird trance you were in. jake ? you say as you wipe your tears. wha- what do you want ? you ask, failing to pretend that you are okay. he doesn't reply right away, coming to sit next to you. he opens his arm, a sign of an invitation not sure if you're okay with it or not, but still wanting to offer. you on the other hand were craving his touch, so you juts crawl on his lap, hand clenching on his hoodie, tears automatically coming back.

he lets you cry for a while, still trying to soothe you with hair strocks and shhh, even rocking you side to side but as he seems your tears don't fade away, his hands leaves your hair to hold gently the both side of your face, y/nie look at me please, he whisper. but as you can't even dare to look at him, a mix of shame and sadness filling your body, he'd just start kissing your tears. come on y/nie,as he keeps on pecking your face, i want to tell you something but i need you to look at me first, the long time per names finally coming back. you slowly turn your eyes to his, only to see adoration on his, speaking silently to you. i am so sorry of how i reacted this entire week. i was so shock when you told me you liked me, i genuinely saw you like my little sister, my long time bestfriend i've always had. i couldn't possibly imagine myself dating you. but i should have told you that instead of being a dumb ass. and then i felt so so ashame, i couldn't even face you in the kitchen. how i could i make the most important person in my life,so sad and, he stops, a hand coming to his hair, trying to find his words, i just couldn't bear it anymore. that time away from you made me realize that i in fact like you too y/nie. i cant live without you baby. who will i do my legos with ? or go home to, to have my hair played with ? or eat my not so good ramen whne i make them, he says between chuckles, making you laugh too. what i wanna say is that, i dont want any of those activites to be done with anyone else. i just want you y/n.

notes : hai anon, i've never written any fic before, n im not even gonna talk about the angst, i hope it feeds you well tho > < i actually didn't want to write it as i don't write anything fictional but i somehow liked ur request so here it is <3

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#⋆˗ˏˋ 🍓 ˎˊ˗ strawberry kiss #enchive #enhablr #jake fanfic #jake sim x reader #jake fluff #jake x reader #jake headcanons #jake sim #jake angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #sim jaeyun fluff #sim jaeyun #enhypen jake fluff #jake soft hours #jaeyun fluff #jaeyun angst

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lieslab · 3 months

Text

Oranges to orange juice

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: Hyunjin X gn reader

Summary: Disordered eating is hard and when Hyunjin overhears you throwing up in the bathroom, he snaps.

Genre: Angst & comfort/hurt

Word Count: 2.8K

Trigger warning: Disordered eating, binging, purging, starving, mentions of vomiting, over-exercising, calorie counting, and a binge eating episode.

A/N: Requestee, I can't lie to you, every time I sat down to write this, I couldn't find the words because this hits a little too close to home. This was one of the hardest things that I've ever had to force myself to write. I tried to make it angsty, but it also felt entirely wrong to do that, so I gave it a happier ending. I hope you like it <3

_ _ _

How did it go so wrong? When did food start to become the enemy? When did substance become poison? How did something, supposed to fill and nurture you, start to craft more evil in your brain than anything else? When did the line between harm and health become blurred?

Over consumption. Starvation. Fall into a binge cycle and purge it back up. Calories in and calories out. Walking around the same path in your neighborhood over and over and over again. These days more hair seems to slip through your fingers. The brown bags beneath your eyes protruded. When was the last time you didn’t feel like a walking zombie?

Caught like a skipping record, you were repeating the toxic cycle. You knew you were damaging yourself, but you didn’t care. Your weight was yo-yoing and you were losing sleep over it. Just one more quick pinterest workout. Skip another meal. Feel so proud for starving yourself all day and then falling victim to an evening binge.

Like a tilt-a-whirl with no seatbelts, just when you thought the ride would stop, your brain would speak, and you’d be thrown hard into the sides of your skull again. Your body was begging for you to stop. The eye bags. The exhaustion. The chills. The scrapes on your knuckles and yellowed teeth. Your brain begged for an ounce of love, but you had none to give.

Had it happened in elementary school? Some kids threw cruel words your way. Were you a bit older? Still growing into your body as a preteen when someone said something and your brain clung to the words like glue. Were you in high school when you dived headfirst to the toxic culture of strict dieting?

The celebrities, the idols, the magazines in the early 2000’s calling people fat right at eye-level in the grocery store. When back to school trips and trying on clothes felt more like a chore more than anything. Glossy tears slipping beneath the fluorescent lights as you twisted and turned and pulled and pinched your skin wishing your body looked different.

Every sweet taste of a cupcake felt like gaining ten pounds. The richness of the icing. The dense cake that you knew would go directly to your gut, so you swapped it for an apple, but then the latest trends began to discuss how bad natural sugar was for you, so you skipped fruit altogether.

Hyunjin has always been your pride and joy for quite a while. Dating him felt like winning the lottery and it came with a lot of triumphs, but also a lot of stipulations. You couldn’t be ugly when dating an idol, let alone, a Versace ambassador. So yes, you won, but at what cost?

Eating disorders are ugly things. People tended to romanticize them, but there was nothing pretty about scraped knuckles. Sticking fingers down your throat and eventually losing your gag reflex because you kept throwing up your food. The sense of victory and impending relief you felt when nothing could come up anymore.

The feeling of ice water on an empty stomach is addicting. Waking up without being bloated. The empty feeling that lingers as you reject food. You can’t help, but feel proud of yourself, but the opposite is true when you binge. You promise yourself you’ll stop, but soon you’re deep in three-thousand calories and all you can think about is which body part will bulge next.

The broken capillaries in your eyes from forcing the retching. The aching knuckles that pain shoots through every time you bend them. The puffy cheeks, the hair loss, the naked weigh-ins. Waking up every morning or getting beneath the stream at night and taking a cold shower because it burnt more calories. There was nothing pretty about eating disorders.

They always have the potential to catch up and yours did. Hyunjin was teaching you in the dance room. He was teaching you the counts of the dance that you wanted to learn when you suddenly collapsed. He barely got to you in time before you slammed the floor.

When you awoke a few moments later, he pushed applesauce and a plastic spoon towards you. A bottle of water followed as he worried that your blood sugar was low. You glanced at the applesauce, already knowing how many calories were in it, and you refused it.

He didn’t understand it at first, but then it clicked. He didn’t know when the last time you ate food was. You were always insisting you already ate. Always pushing aside snacks and insisting you were full from lunch, but when was the last time he saw you eat lunch?

His suspicions were confirmed when he offered to take you out to dinner. You tried to hide the panic, but it was obvious. When he confronted you about your unhealthy habits, you nearly burst into tears on the spot and he swore he’d help you, but the truth was so much more complex.

Sometimes you don’t have the power to save people from their inner demons. As much as people would like to play god, sometimes a person has to be willing to take the plunge. They have to be willing to work on themselves from within. Find the root of the problems, nurture that hurt, begin to slowly rebuild themselves up instead of down.

And the truth? You were not ready. The truth is that eating disorders are addictive. There’s a certain kind of twisted competitiveness. When you go hours without eating and those hours slip from twelve to twenty-four and suddenly you’re at forty-eight hours without food. A toxic and warped pride becomes rooted inside and burrows around the roots of your brain. You might have had downfalls, but at least you could starve…until you binged again.

A seesaw without a winner. The constant up and down. Taking the plunge and soaring up high. The cycle became exhausting after a while, but addictions aren’t easily overcome. There’s always more than meets the eye.

Hyunjin tried his best to keep his tabs on you. Despite his busy schedule, he had been planning out healthy meals for the two of you. Every time he wanted you to help him cook, your brain screamed at you to stop. Every bite was another pound. You were torn between healing and gaining weight. For a few days, it was okay, but then you broke.

Outside the bathroom door, Hyunjin was silently listening to you heave up the contents of your stomach. He knew you were up to something when you didn’t return quickly from the bathroom. You swore it wouldn’t take that long, but you lied.

He hated that he couldn’t understand. He hated that he didn’t know why you were like this. In his head, food was a need, it wasn’t something you could just turn away from. Knowing that he spent all of last night prepping this stuff made it ten times worse. He spent so much time making it perfect and you were unloading your food into the toilet.

He sighed and shook his head while thinking about it. He couldn’t help you if you didn’t try to help yourself. His arms went over his chest and he found his socked foot tapping the beige carpeted floor. With a clenched jaw, he waited for you to reappear.

It took a few minutes before you finally reappeared while wiping away remnants of tears. You only took a step when a throat cleared and you were staring into the narrowed eyes of Hyunjin. “Are you done throwing up the meal I spent hours on?” He couldn’t help, but feel annoyed by your actions.

“I’m sorry, it didn’t agree with my stomach.” The lie slid through your teeth so easily. First it was one lie and then the next. You already ate. Snacks were already consumed. Of course, you were fine. Better than ever.

“Bullshit!” He spat. “I’m trying to help you and you won’t let me! God, how do you think this makes me feel? It’s disgusting! You have to have food to nourish you, so I’m not sure what doing any of this proves. Did you know stomach acid destroys your teeth?”

It was a slap to the face. Hurt was in your eyes, but he didn’t stop. The words buzzed straight into the core of your brain and seeped into the shutters of your heart. You were nothing, but a disappointment.

“I’ve been so busy the past few days and I just wanted one nice meal with my significant other. One nice meal! I even took the time to make homemade pasta and yet you still-” He scoffed and shook his head. “I give up. You know what? Do what you want.”

Tears began to well in your eyes as he spun around. “W-where are you going?”

“Away from you. Away from whatever this is. I’m packing up leftovers and taking it to people who’ll actually enjoy it. I can’t believe I learned to cook for you and this is what I get in response.”

He knew he was being cruel, but he couldn’t help it. He knew eating disorders weren’t easy, but he was so frustrated and terrified for you. He knew you’d disagree when it came to professional help. He couldn’t force you to go, it’ll kill you and he was terrified that you’d never forgive him.

The last you saw of him was his silhouette storming down the stairs, banging things around, and then the ear-shattering announcement of his disappearance with the door slamming shut. You sniffled and your bottom lip quivered as you headed towards the stairs.

When you got to the kitchen table, your plate was still there with half-eaten food. Still dressed up in garlic butter, your pasta remained untouched. Your fork still had bits of italian seasoning coating the prongs. The scent of garlic and onion continued to linger in the air.

The pasta on Hyunjin’s plate had disappeared. The pot that he made it on was missing from the stove. Besides the unrelenting and haunting tick of the clock, it was all still. You were alone with your thoughts, more worrying, you were emotionally stressed.

When you glanced at the cupboard, your mouth began to salivate with the memory of the glazed donuts you bought earlier. How sweet they’d be on your tongue. A glazed donut followed by something a little more savory, like the trail mix Hyunjin bought you the other day.

You tried to ignore the pressing thoughts. Stomach acid still stained your teeth. Your brain said no, but your stomach growled at the thought. You emptied the pasta from your stomach, but you were still hungry. The endorphins would spike, your stress would be temporarily relieved before the guilt set in, and so…

You practically flew across the tile floor in your socks. Flinging open the cupboard door, you found the box of glazed donuts and threw open the lid. The sticky feeling clung to your fingertips, but the taste of sugar was so sweet. Food could be a high that nothing else could compare to.

You didn’t know how long you spent binging. You scrounged around the cupboards like a rat. Digging through boxes and attempting to find more food. Crackers? You ate some. Some of Hyunjin’s cookies that he promised you could have? You ate those too.

When you finished, you could already feel the bloating begin. The feeling of your stomach being stretched to its near limits was unbearable. The binge settled and so did the realization of what you just did.

You sprinted back to the bathroom to make things right. When two fingers weren’t enough to trigger your gag reflex, soon it was replaced with three. Your stomach twisted and heaved. The stomach acid was harsh on your nasal cavity, but you couldn’t help it.

The cold toilet water mixed with vomit splashed on your face and made you heave more. You choked on chunk after chunk. The crackers scraped harshly into the sides of your throat, but you didn’t care. It all had to get out somehow.

When you were finished, you forced yourself up, rinsed your mouth out with water, and collapsed on the bed you shared with Hyunjin. There was something trapped inside of you that you just couldn’t seem to stop. How could you defeat your own brain? How did you balance health and harm?

Good fats, bad fats. Too much sodium. Too much sugar. The unsteady and tipsy feeling of weightlessness with an empty stomach. The heavy and sinking anchor of a full belly. When some people said one thing about food and yet others claimed different, who were you supposed to listen to?

You didn’t have the knowledge that doctors had or the knowledge of protein and macros and supplements. Food could be so confusing and it could be stressful. How were you ever supposed to see it as something nurturing? Some people said stay away from red meat, some said stay away from fruit, others said only strictly eat fruits, vegetables, and meats. How were you supposed to keep up with it all?

As your brain spun around in circles, at some point, you managed to fall asleep. When you reawakened, you woke up to a hand on your shoulder. You blinked your bleary eyes, trying to figure out what was happening.

“Baby?” The familiar voice of Hyunjin filled your ears. His verbal lashing from early reappeared in your sleepy brain. “Can you hear me?”

“What do you want?” You weakly got out.

“Get up.”

“No.”

You didn’t have a choice as he tugged on your arm and pulled you up. You didn’t fight it as he tugged you into his arms. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have said the things I said. I didn’t mean any of it. I really didn’t, I just-” He sniffled.

“I know,” you mumbled.

“I’m so afraid for you and I don’t know how to help you. I don’t know how to keep you safe. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. You’re irreplaceable to me.” His arms tightened around you as his chin gently sat on the top of your head. “I never should have taken my frustration out on you.”

He leaned back against the wooden headboard. You couldn’t stop your own tears from beginning to build up. Your fingers curled into his shirt. The steady wallop of his heartbeat brought you comfort.

“What do you need from me? How can I help you? What can I do for you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Baby, please, I need to know what you need.”

“Help,” you uttered the words that terrified you. “Someone who knows how to fix me. I don’t know how to fix the broken pieces. I-” A sob fell from your lips.

When was the last time you enjoyed a slice of your own birthday cake without feeling guilty? When did eating feel like enjoyment instead of a punishment? When was the last time you were excited to try a new food without worrying about the calories and sugar content?

“Just say the words and I will find you someone who can help. I-I can’t help you alone. You have to be willing, baby, please. I need you to try and fight this.”

“Please.”

“Please what?”

“Help.”

Hyunjin squeezed his eyes shut and clutched you tightly. He didn’t utter it out loud, but a silent prayer of gratitude filled his head. “Promise to try?” You nodded. “Thank you.” His lips pressed against the top of your head.

He began to slowly rock your body back and forth. Your eyes slipped shut and you let out a soft sigh of relief. You were terrified and yet, there were a few specks of relief. Maybe you really could fight this. Maybe you really could develop a healthier relationship with food.

Learn to stop tracking calories and working out until you nearly collapse from exhaustion. You needed a hail mary and as much as you tried to do it alone, you always seemed to relapse and make it all worse. It wouldn’t be easy, you knew that, but it was a start.

It was better than repeating the cycle. It was hard to spread your wings and fly, but you wanted to be better. You wanted to be stronger and healthier. You wanted to be happy and most of all, you wanted to have a long life, long enough to watch your relationship with Hyunjin bloom.

You wanted to meet people, to travel, to try new foods without feeling the rotten guilt. You wanted to enjoy your birthday cake. To embrace the growing older, live through new experiences, harness the wisdom, and share the love.

It was terrifying, but the more you thought about it, maybe, just maybe, maybe it was worth it.

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

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