#but no I’m the only one with any fucking vision around here and I hate it so much

[taketheringtolohac]

what if I just screamed!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and cried!!!!!!!!

[the-californicationist]

he opens the mail

Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen. The only cure? Your pussy, apparently.

Warning: sex pollen tropes, extremely dubious consent, attempt at satire?, angry john price

“We’re never going to make this deadline. Laswell’s gonna kill me,” you complained, burying your head in the pile of envelopes and packages strewn over your desk. 

“Did this to yourself, lass. Shoulda been keepin’ up with intel duty. Wee bit at a time, ‘s what I say,” Soap patted you on the shoulder, feigning pity. 

You spent hours combing through the documents, and by the time everyone had gone to bed, your fingers were covered in paper cuts, and your vision was blurry from squinting at the poorly scrawled Cyrillic words. 

You thought you were alone, and as you stood up to stretch and refill your coffee mug, Captain Price opened up the office door, scaring you half to death. 

“Oh, hey Corporal,” he smiled and then furrowed his brow, “What are you still doing here?”

You sighed, pointing to the piles of documents,

“Laswell’s intel backlog. I’m the only one with a Level 3 linguistics cert for Russian, so here I am. Gonna be an all-nighter.”

He closed the door and sat down across from your seat, digging into the pile, 

“I’m Level 3. Let’s finish it.”

“Captain, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure you’ve got more important things…”

Price shook his head, taking off his hat and hanging it on the chair back,

“Nah, tha’s alright, love. I’ll help ya. Get us a tea, yeah?”

You knew how he took his tea, and you hated that you did. Secretly, you were obsessed with him. He was always around, smelling like balsam wood and tobacco, looking like a gladiator, huge and capable in the most masculine way. It was hard to concentrate when he was nearby. Now that he had offered to help, you had to grin and bear it. 

You worked together for a while, chatting, even laughing. It was nice. You had so much in common, the conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself much more at ease. Finally, three packages remained. You opened the first one and found little more than phone records for a local library. Unhelpful to say the least. Price opened a water bill, and he recognized the address of a recent Konni base location. Any intel at this point felt like a celebration. Then, the final box. 

“Go on then. Show us the ending,” he smiled, handing it to you. 

“Couldn’t take the joy of ripping up the last letter, Captain. Be my guest,” you smiled. 

He chuckled, tearing into the envelope. In a flash, bright pink powder sprayed him directly in the eyes, and he writhed in pain, pinching them shut, his whole body going stiff. 

“Fuck me!” He shouted. 

“Hang on,” you ran over to the sink in the kitchenette, “Here’s some water. Get that shit out of your eyes.”

“Don’t,” he moved away from you like you were on fire, “Don’t touch me. Might be contagious.”

Your chest was rising and falling with your labored breathing, and you were immediately worried. You reached for your phone and called Laswell.

“Laswell, Price got anthraxed by one of the intel letters. What do you want us to do?”

She gasped, 

“What? Shit. I’m on my way.”

She hung up on you. You watched Price slowly try to open his eyes. They were stained hot pink from the powder. 

“You alright?” You asked him. 

“Yeah, love,” he sighed, “Doesn’t hurt anymore. Feeling strange though. Laswell said she’s coming?”

You nodded,

“Yeah, just in case.”

He nodded, running his hand along the inside of his collar. The captain was sweaty and a little pale. 

“Captain, are you okay?”

“Mmm, no,” he shook his head, “Something’s not right, love.”

He stood and went to the sink, washing as much of the powder off as he could. You moved away from him and stationed yourself across the room, praying for Laswell to hurry. 

Price was in a bad way. He took off his shirt, and he was still dripping with beads of sweat. You tried not to stare, but his temperature wasn’t the only thing heating up. His huge cock was making a prominent tent in his pants, but he was in too much pain to bother hiding it. You felt yourself blushing, and you willed yourself to pull it together. 

“…fuckin’ hell,” his hand went to his crotch to squeeze his length, trying to find some relief, “Sorry, love.”

“It’s okay,” you said politely, trying to breathe normally, but feeling the slick rush melt between your legs. 

“It’s makin’ me…feel…bloody hell. I can’t hold it off. Can…can you…? No! No, what the fuck am I sayin’? No,” he shook his head, rubbing his hands down his face, hot and very bothered. 

You inched closer to him,

“If I haven’t been affected yet, I’m sure it’s okay. How should I help you?”

“No! No, stay back. I’m not…I can’t think straight. My mind’s got one thing on it,” he shoved his hands beyond his zipper and began to jerk himself off, his dick making lurid noises with his hand. 

You hated seeing him so helpless. You moved to his side,

“Cap, it’s okay. Let me help you.”

His hand was around your throat in milliseconds. Price shoved you against the wall and began to kiss your mouth, furiously laving his tongue against yours. 

“No, no, no,” he whispered through his kisses, not bothering to pull away as he spoke his lamentations. 

You made the mistake of putting your hands on his chest to steady yourself. He moaned, trembling beneath your touch,

“Ahh, careful.”

“Sorry,” you pulled your hands away, still trapped in his firm grip around your neck, “did I hurt you?”

“No, doesn’t hurt.”

He said it in a way that darkly implied your touch was igniting a different kind of fire. You put your hands back where they were, and his eyes shot open, piercing through yours with a lustful rage. Unexpectedly, he ripped off your shirt and lay you down on the black leather couch in the corner of the office. He crushed you with his weight, kissing you deeply. 

Then, your phone rang. He didn’t allow you to pause, so it went to voicemail. It rang again. You were getting just as hot as he was, and you weren’t that interested in who was looking for you in the middle of the night. Until, however, the door to the office burst wide open and Laswell and Gaz burst through it. 

Price snarled. You’d never heard a man make that noise before. Laswell put her hands on her hips while Gaz tried to shield his face in shock. Laswell rubbed her forehead, frustrated,

“Are his eyes pink, Corporal?”

You escaped his jaws for a moment, 

“Yeah, why?”

“It’s a sex drug. Forces the user to fornicate as it is only passed through the body in seminal fluid, dissolving in the heat of another person’s body. Are you volunteering here? What happened?”

Her tone was so matter of fact, it was a little humorous, if Price’s length wasn’t rutting against you in earnest, you might've laughed. You tried to explain as much as he would allow,

“Got too close… just… happened. How…” you moaned as Price pulled down the strap of your bra and helped himself to your nipple, “How did you know?”

She sighed, typing something into her datapad,

“Checked the incident log from this afternoon. Four more cases of this have popped up in intel collections. Gonna have to screen for it next time.”

She turned to walk out of the office with Gaz, and you called after her,

“Hey, wait! How long does it - oh, fuck… how long does it last?”

Laswell had the audacity to smirk at you, raising her eyebrows and cutting her eyes at Price’s swollen cock, lolling out of his pants, scraping itself against you. 

“Eight hours. Looks like you’re in for a rough night, Corporal. Maybe next time you’ll be more careful.”

Part 2

[beyondthesefourwalls]

A Verbal Agreement

Summary: You hated Jake Seresin. Truly, you did. Or at least you strongly disliked him. But as it was, he did something for you that no other man could, and it kept you coming back for more. 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 1.2K (no one is as shocked as I am that I kept it short) 

Warnings: Smut. Dirty talk. Enemies with benefits. Language. The Blonde One™️.

---

---

You hated him. 

Truly, you did.

Or at least that’s what you told yourself. Maybe strong dislike would be a better way to describe it. 

Jake Seresin was a smug son of a bitch. He was the bane of your existence in so many ways, and got under your skin like he was trying to burrow there and make it his home. His arrogance annoyed you, constantly walking around with a holier-than-thou attitude, like he was God’s gift to women, the Navy, and society in general. His smirk made his face punchable in a way that you were barely able to resist smacking him when he shot it in your direction. 

But damn, if his ability to string together filth didn’t drive you fucking crazy. 

“That’s it. Fuck. That’s my good girl.” 

You clenched around him at his words, a moan leaving you because of the praise. 

Dirty talk was something you considered to be an artform. It was one of your biggest turn ons, and so little men knew how to actually execute it. So often when you’d ask for it, it came out awkward, cringy or obnoxious. They fumbled over words and made everything sound so unappealing, unable to find that perfect balance of praise and degradation that you longed for, that you would barely be in the mood to finish after they spouted off what they thought was sexy. 

So it would figure, of course, that you discovered Jake was the best dirty talker you had ever been with after what was supposed to be a one time mistake after a few too many drinks at the Hard Deck. He made everything sound so flawlessly erotic and natural, you were basically a puddle for it every single time.  

It was no secret that Jake loved to hear himself talk, and this was the one situation where you not only didn’t mind, you wanted it.  

“Taking me so fucking well. You were made to take it, weren’t you baby?” 

“Yes,” you gasped, nodding rapidly, your nails dragging down his back. “Made to.” 

“Yeah you were. I’m making you feel so good, aren’t I?” 

Your moan turned into a scream of his name as a sharp smack came down on your ass, Jake nearly bending you in half as he fucked you. “Answer me.” 

You knew from knowing him for so long that he hated being ignored, especially in bed, and especially when it was about how good he was making you feel.

“Yes! Fuck!” you shouted, your voice echoing off the walls. “So good!” 

His chuckle and his smirk were both so smug, in any other situation, you would have rolled your eyes. But here, in the privacy of your apartment, it sent another wave of arousal through you, and you couldn’t help but arch into him. 

“Well, I’m glad we’ve got that straight, darlin’,” he murmured, his voice low and as smooth as velvet. “Not like you would have been able to deny it, anyway. You’re so fucking soaked, you’re making a mess of the sheets and those pretty thighs of yours. I can only imagine how good it's going to feel when I come inside of you. Is that what you want?” 

“Uh-huh,” you breathed. 

"You’re so fucking tight, baby. Sucking me in like a damn vice.” 

"Please," you whimpered. You were close; so close. But you needed more. “Please, please, please.” 

“God I love it when you beg for me.” 

He said the words almost to himself, so you didn't answer, caught in a whirlwind of lust and frustration. Jake’s hand slipped between your legs, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing fast, tight circles against it. Your vision blurred at the stimulation. 

“You want my cock so bad, don’t you?” 

“Jake.” 

You felt the edges of your control fraying, the pleasure building to a breaking point. Your whole body shook - sweet release so near that you could almost taste it. 

"Yeah, baby," he growled, his hips pounding into you even harder. His thrusts became more urgent as he neared his end, too, demanding and pointed."You want to come for me?” 

You couldn’t answer, falling into the haze of what he was making you feel. Your mind was a blank canvas, lost to the sensation of his cock filling you, all that existed was the intense sensation of him thrusting against your nerve-endings, the friction between your clit and his fingers, and the rhythm of his voice, husky and perfect, pulsing through you. 

Another smack to your ass, and then his hand found your chin, squeezing just tight enough where it drew you out of your head. He guided your gaze toward him. His eyes, always so mischievous, were dark and calculating. “Do you want to come for me?” he repeated, and you moaned at the authority ringing in your ears. 

Your voice was barely a whisper as the words tumbled out of your mouth. “Yes. Please, Jake. Make me come.” 

“Then do it. Be a good girl, and come for me. Now.” 

Your body responded to his command instantly. You arched into him, your screams echoing in the room as you shattered, your nails digging into his back. He never stopped talking, his voice coaxing as much from you as he could. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up. Come inside this sweet little pussy. And you’re going to take all of it, baby.” 

Your body felt like it was on fire. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through you and he kept up his relentless rhythm, chasing his own release. You felt him go rigid inside you, and then his hips jerked forward once, twice, and then a third time as he joined you over the edge. He grunted out your name as you clung to him, your arms around his neck, your legs wrapped around his waist, feeling him pulse inside you.

For a few moments, you both laid there, panting as you tried to catch your breath. Jake settled more of his weight on top of you in a way that always made you feel more secure as you came down from the high, and you placed a soft kiss against his neck in appreciation.

“I still hate you,” you mumbled into his skin. 

Jake chuckled low in his throat, and then laughed even harder when the sound caused you to clench around his softening cock. He pulled out of you slowly, sliding over your sensitive flesh. You could feel his cum slipping out of you, furthering the mess between your legs. You couldn’t help but shiver as he settled on the mattress beside you, pulling you into his sweaty chest. 

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, darlin’.” 

“No, I mean it.” 

But even as you said it, you were cuddling closer to him, draping your leg over his as got comfortable. Post-orgasm was one of the only times he was quiet, or at least not as chatty, and you enjoyed basking in the afterglow that always followed these trysts. 

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, and you could feel the smirk that was no doubt a mix of smug and indulgent as he did. “Sure.”

“Shhhh,” you murmured, “don’t ruin it.”

He laughed lightly, but settled down, not saying anything else. 

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Notes: I really have no idea what this is or where it came from, but here we are.

Thanks to @roosterforme @mak-32 and @sylviebell for reading it over and all your help! And to Mak for a stunning banner, as per ushe.

Main Masterlist

[blueicequeen19]

Smuggler

Warnings: cheating, unprotected sex, friends with benefits, frenemies, talk of smuggling, JJ being a fuckboy

I wasn’t supposed to be here. I was only in town long enough for my dad to refuel his plane then we were heading back to the Bahamas. The last thing I needed was any involvement with a damn Pogue. So why was I riding this one like I’d die if I didn’t?

“Goddamn.” JJ’s hand gripped my throat as he let out a throaty groan, his cock touching so deep it almost hurt. His big dick was definitely a perk.

“I’m close.” I rasped, using both hands to grope my breasts as I bounced harder, my head thrown back. The hand on my throat tightened until darkness clouded my vision, his free hand finding my clit until finally I erupted with a cry.

“Fuck yes, baby.” His grip tightened then I was on my back as he drove into me with enough force to send my head against the headboard as it slapped the wall.

“I’m not your baby.” I bit out. My nails dug into his back until he hissed through gritted teeth as I tried to keep from screaming from the intense pleasure. His teeth found my nipple and I yelped, wrapping my legs around his waist as his pace increased.

“Cum again or I’m cumming inside you.” JJ growled around my flesh in his mouth. Did we forget a fucking condom?

“Don’t you dare.” I gasped, his hand sliding down to grip my ass as he pounded me harder.

“You don’t want a part of me inside you when you fly back home?” His taunt pisses me off but I’m too close to care. Sweat dripped from his brow and onto my chest before he dropped down on top of me, his mouth finding my neck.

“Your dad might never bring you back if he found out.” JJ chuckles in my ear as his fingers meet my clit. I cum harder than before as I practically convulse beneath him. I barely suck in a breath when he’s yanking out to fist his cock as he cums all over my stomach and chest. I stare up at the ceiling as I lick my lips, tasting him there too as his heavy breathing echos around us.

“Was that really necessary?” I grumble, meeting his playful gaze with a glare as he grabs a towel to clean me off.

“Definitely.” When he reaches between my legs, I swat him away and climb off the bed to redress. I’m dressed quicker than he is and almost to the door when he grabs my hand, pulling me back.

“You’re leaving just like that?” He leans in for a needy kiss but I turn my head, pushing him back.

“My dad will want to leave soon.”

“It’ll take them awhile to load everything. Trust me.” Fire burns in my blood and I shove him away. He always does this. It’s like he wants to piss me off.

“My dad is not smuggling drugs.” I bite out just as my phone goes off in my pocket. I know it’s my dad. I don’t have to look to know.

“Why do you think your dad hates me? Because my dad is loading his plane up right now with contraband. Ask him what’s in the crates.”

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t know. If your dad is loading drugs into his plane then my dad doesn’t know about it.” I shove him away as he throws his head back with a laugh. My blood boils as I swing without thinking but he catches my wrist and shoves my back against the door. I can barely catch my breath as he presses his hot, warm body against my own with a cocky grin.

“You’re not dumb babe so don’t act like it.”

“Fuck you. I hate you.”

“You wish you hated you me.” He leans in to kiss me just when there’s a knock at the door. JJ groans before releasing me and stepping back. I sidestep him and yank the door open to reveal a cute and innocent looking brunette.

“Oh hi! You must be JJ’s cousin!” She exclaims, holding out her hand for me to shake as JJ coughs on a laugh. I’m too stunned to speak but I take her available hand.

“And she was just leaving.” JJ insists, opening the door wider as he tries to usher me out and her in. I try to wrap my head around what’s happening when she wraps her arms around his waist with a beaming smile.

“He told me you were visiting. I’m his girlfriend, Riley.” My eyes widen further as I look between them. JJ looks uncomfortable and she looks clueless. We literally smelled like sex but she was oblivious.

“I uh—.”

“I’ll see you later, cuz.” JJ wraps his arm around her shoulders before slamming the door in my face.

If anything, my hatred for OBX grew instantly.

[princessbrunette]

rafe definitely would be the type to get his fwb pregnant, ghost her for a while, and then come back with his stupid shaved head and his hands in his pockets like ‘when’s the next appointment’. he has to take a little panic time to come around to the idea and remember that it takes two to make said child, and then the fear of being like his dad and neglecting his firstborn kicks in and he pops back up ready to sort shit out and attempt to be there to the best of his ability in his own way cause it’s still rafe and he’s not perfect ykwim. definitely could heal him though 🙏. Waddle around in those flowly little dresses cause they’re all that fit in the late stages but cause of the belly it makes them shorter than they already were and he’s a man starved.

GODDDDD this makes me go crazy😀

you’re by no means a pogue but your place is still just small enough to make rafe turn his nose up at it if you remember correctly, proving his disapproval of it when he shows up after a few months, a few shades tanner, buffer, with a buzzed head. he looked older, more mature— but the way he stood with his hands shoved into his pockets, staring unabashedly at the bump that had only just broken into vision, it was clear he was the same old rafe.

“so uh, y’know if it’s a boy or a girl yet?” he wanders, slowly pacing your kitchen whilst you brew him a coffee.

“no, rafe. i’m keeping it as a surprise.” your voice is quiet, untrusting. it makes him resist a sigh, scratching at his cheek with a look of discomfort. he just wants his girl back. he wants his family.

“right, right.” he nods, watching you for a moment. he supposes its true what they say about ‘pregnancy glow’ because you look fucking stunning. “baby, i’m really sorry.” he drawls and you flinch a little at the nickname. it’s been a while since you heard that. you turn to him, giving him a chance to explain himself.

“i freaked. i’m— i’m a fuckin’ coward and if you hate me, cool— alright i get it. but whether you like it or not, that’s my baby in there. and, and i’m gonna be apart of it’s life. just… let me take you out of here. we’ll start again. tanny hill’s all mine now, can set up a nice little baby room, paint it any colour you want, n’you can stay there too, with me—” he pauses, watching your unsure expression, not quite knowing how you feel about sharing the bed with rafe cameron once more. “…or sarah’s old room. up to you.” he adds reluctantly but gives you the option anyway. he does seem to really want this, and whilst you were mad he just up and left, leaving you to deal with the start of your pregnancy alone you could never resist him. you didn’t want your baby to grow up without a dad, not one bit.

“what’s wrong with my place?” you frown at your shabby little apartment your parents had set you up with.

“this place… tanny hill.” he holds his hands out mimicking a tipping scale, a cheeky smile growing on his face, voice still being gentle with you. that was the rafe you liked.

with his baby inside you, and the two of you spending all that time together, you didn’t stand a chance. you’d wondered how the two of you had ever commit to just being friends with benefits when it’s clear you had great deals of love for one another. he constantly doted on you, spoiling you and buying you whatever, if anything annoyed him he’d remove himself from the situation instead of getting mad like he used to, didn’t let you even walk anywhere alone despite telling rafe it was fine, jumping up to guide you with an arm around your waist once you got more swollen. he was treating you like you were made of glass, even showing reluctance to fucking you when you’d begged him, telling him how the pregnancy hormones were driving you mad and you missed his dick, the blue eyed man furrowing his brows in concern asking whether this could hurt the baby.

once he was passed the concern though, rafe couldn’t help sate his arousal almost every time you’d walk around in stretched out little nighties, swollen tits practically falling out of the top. he’d still be real gentle, don’t get it twisted— opting to grind his cock into you instead of thrusting like a madman remanent of your past with him. he’d stroke your clit with his thumb, your legs spread with his cock burrowed inside you, panting. “its true what they say, pregnant pussy is wetter. didn’t think you could get any better, baby.” he groans, your walls clamping down around him, crying out at his vulgarity.

“get used to this life, sweetheart, ‘cos i don’t think i’m ever gonna be able to stop fucking babies into you.”

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

can't fight the moonlight

kinktober, day twenty-nine

a/n: this one was a fantasy that was so fuzzy and took a surprisingly long time to figure out, but the hazy dream of it kept me going till i solved the puzzle

summary: it didn’t matter what you did or how hard you tried, you had no way of overpowering the beast the moonlight turned him into. 

warnings: werewolf!bucky barnes x reader, smut, bucky's wolf form is very humanoid looking (think more teen wolf, less twilight), dubcon/noncon, predator/prey, established relationship, monsterfucking, little to no foreplay, dirty talk, squirting, overstimulation, cock drunk, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, forced breeding, belly bulge, size kink, size difference

word count: 2345

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2023

“…and you’ve got some water in case you get thirsty and-, oh! Do you have something to eat? A snack or something?” you blabbered tensely as you helped lock the heavy chains that your partner snaked securely around his own limbs, bolting him to the cold basement for the night, “because I could go make you-”

Letting the iron in his grasp suddenly fall to the floor in a loud clang, like a volcano he exploded, “no!” heatedly throwing his hands up as he fumed, “I don’t need a fucking snack, would you just-…” catching your wide eyes, his sudden anger thawed a bit as he finally heard his own words, “I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you clutched your hands close to your chest, the keys tight in them dug into your palms.

Head lightly tilting to the side, Bucky let out a sigh, “you’re just trying to help and I’m-”

“It’s okay, I know,” you reassured him, “it’s the moon, I get it, don’t worry, darling,” you averted your gaze, staring down at the cold concrete floor, “I’m sorry about freaking out, like I do every month, but I just wanna do something that can make this better for you, even a little bit, anything, even though I know that there isn’t anything that can, I still can’t stop trying because I hate this,” you heard your voice grow thick and tears begin to blur up your vision, “I really really hate this.”

“Y/n…” you felt his fingers gently graze your cheek, bringing your glossy gaze back up to his, “you are helping, more than you even know. Before I met you, before you moved in and started being here every full moon, I was always terrified of getting out, terrified that I couldn’t detain myself enough and someone would end up getting hurt or worse… but I’m not scared of that anymore. It hasn’t happened once since you’ve been here to bolt the chains I can’t get to on my own and lock the doors from the other side. Plus knowing that you’ll be here when the sun eventually comes up, I hold onto that, no matter how painful it gets or how much I disappear, that fact doesn’t, it stays with me, keeps me somewhat sane throughout the night.” 

Letting out a shaky breath, you blinked away the mist in your eyes, trying to be brave as you uttered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he exhaled, gazing at you as you leaned in to seal the final padlock with a click. Getting up to your feet, you stepped towards the door, but your fingers froze on the knob as Bucky’s voice filled the cellar once more, “try and get some sleep, okay? I’ll see you in a bit.”

Glancing over your shoulder at his shackled frame, sitting against the wall, skin already glistening from the pending trauma, you promised, “okay,” even though you knew this night wouldn’t be any different from the rest. 

You could never sleep when the moon was full, never even relax enough to rest for a bit. Even though the layers of resources that encased the basement silenced Bucky’s screams of agony from the rest of the neighbourhood as well as your own ears, just the knowledge that only one floor below where you were trying to slumber, there your beloved laid in pain as every single bone in his body had to break before he could turn into a monster of the moon, that awareness kept you up better than any caffeine could. 

Locking the solid steel door behind you, so you repeated with the one atop the wonky staircase, the rest of the house suddenly feeling so cold without his presence. 

Still clad in garb you’d worn to work, you couldn’t bother to change out of it even if the dress and stockings weren’t the most comfortable clothing to do an all-nighter in, you just seized the grey cabled cardigan draped over the armchair by the fireplace and shrugged it over top.

Holding the kettle under the tap to fill it up, your weary vision locked on the ominous sphere looming in the night sky clearly visible from the kitchen window. Losing yourself to the sight, too absorbed by the troubling thoughts it brought on, you only snapped out of the trance when cold water began to flow over the side of the pot and soak your hand that clutched it. 

“Oh, shit…” you mumbled as you hurried to turn off the water and pour some of the abundances back out into the sink. 

Placing it down on the stovetop, you listened to the gentle clicking that emanated before the eventual flame as you turned the knob. The slight heat radiating beneath the kettle persuaded you to shift into the living room and with the flick of a match, light the fireplace, granting yourself more of that soothing heat to help battle the night. 

You nearly jumped out of your skin when the water came to a boil, kettle whistling like a demon to relay the message. 

With a mug of tea in your hand, you curled up in the chair by the fire and picked up the half-read book discarded on the small side table. 

This was the routine, even though you never could concentrate, you still at least tried to distract yourself. 

A sudden bang ripped your eyes away from the page they had glazed over four times by now. Your vision instantly trained on the door to the cellar, clearly visible from where you were sitting. 

As the door then began to rattle rhythmically from an unyielding force, your body jumped at every thud, the novel in your grasp tumbling to the floor. 

Frozen in your seat, you watched as the door splintered, swiftly losing the short-lived battle and flying off its hinges.

With heavy footsteps, Bucky’s visage stepped into the light, except it wasn’t the Bucky you knew, not one you’d seen with your own eyes, but only ever heard tales about.

At first, you thought he still looked like himself, but as the firelight flickered across his form, you finally noticed just how altered he was. His natural body hair had quadrupled, fuzzing up his visage and the rippling muscles that hid beneath it, those as well seeming to have swelled up making his frame nearly unrecognisable. Though he always towered above your comparative stature, his height now was something else entirely. The sight of his eyes chilled you to the very bone, the calming blue was completely drowned out by a sea of black, with only a tiny golden flicker in the middle differentiating the obsidian. Nails long and tough like claws, broken chains still clung to his form as you watched his lip curl, a low growl rumbling throughout the room and letting you catch sight of his sharp teeth. 

Scarcely breathing at all, your hopes of him not noticing your presence began to fade as he predatorily sniffed the air. 

Your eyes suddenly grew wide as you spotted a part of him begin to swell up and come into the light. Throbbing, his unusually grand length intimidatingly curved upwards, it too haven grown just as the rest of his body had. 

Finally breaking through your terror, you sprung up and tried your best to run, though you didn’t get far as, within mere seconds, the natural hunter caught up to you and tackled you down to the ground, shredding the cosy knit you wore in the process. 

Cheek smooshed against the floorboards, you trembled beneath his beefy form as his flaming chest pressed against your back, knowing full well that if you made one wrong move, aggravated him in any sort of way, he could snap you like a twig. It didn’t matter what you did or how hard you tried, you had no way of overpowering the beast the moonlight turned him into. 

As your eyes flickered to the front door, it dawned on you that if he could break not only the chain that bound him, but also the strong basement doors, then the last barrier that kept him from the outside world wouldn’t even make him break a sweat. 

Growling directly in your ear, you felt his agitated breath fan across your face as his nose buried itself in your hair. Starved sniffs slowly travelling south, your heart nearly burst out of your chest as you felt him rip your clothes to shreds. Dress tattered and hanging off of you, your underwear swiftly disintegrated completely as only your stocking truly survived the attack, still clinging around your quivering thighs with only the smallest of tears to tell the tale. 

Grinding desperately against the curve of your form, his monstrous girth nudged against you, catching you off guard as even in this petrifying form, you still felt your body respond to him. 

“Bucky, Buck!” your voice squeaked in an attempt at breaking through to him, “it’s me! It’s me! It’s Y/n!” wildly flipping you over and roughly aligning himself with your core, you desperately tried to catch his dark eyes and try again, “Bucky, please!”

Joints locking up at the sound of your shrill cry, a flicker of reignition washed over his haunting glare, softening it slightly as you finally heard him speak, “…Y/n?” his voice was much lower than you’d ever heard it, though very much still his, “oh, fuck… I-…” a shaky breath escaped his lungs as he hovered above you, the tip of his cock nuzzled between your folds, “…I don’t think I can stop…” he grunted, his hand right beside your head digging into the floorboards and leaving splintery scratches in its wake, “I can’t fight it, I’m trying, but-”

“It's okay,” you carefully reached up and touched his cheek. You couldn’t let him run out that door and take some innocent lives. At this moment, all of his focus was aimed at you, so if it could just stay there and not stray till the sun came up, if you could distract him for only a little while longer, then the night might end without any unnecessary bloodshed. So, therefore, you gave in, “I love you, I love you so much,” your glistening eyes blinked up at him as you tried to speak with confidence, “you’re not gonna hurt me, I know you’re not. It’s okay, it’s-” 

Plunging into you, an almost animalistic noise accompanied his harsh action as the beast he’d become seized exactly what it desired. All of the air got pushed out of your lungs as he buried himself in you, stretching you out beyond belief and forcing a shuttering cry to tumble from your lips. 

Never mind the fact that he wasn’t wearing a condom, a thing the two of you had always been careful about, that detail fought to penetrate through the fog he sent you into. Stunned that you could even take it all, the sensation of him made your mind melt. You felt all of it. Every vein and every ridge, every jaw-dropping detail that decorated his monstrous cock drove you to madness.

“Fuck!” he snarled, bucking his hips so hard against yours that your whole body shook, the sloppy clapping of skin against skin filled the home as he greedily rammed against the deepest spot inside of you, “do you have any idea how long I’ve tried to break out of those chains?” leaning down closer, he inhaled deeply, “I can fucking smell you…” you shivered as his nose ghosted against yours, “all the way down in the basement, no matter where you are, I can always smell you… calling for me, begging me to come and rip you apart…”

Leaning back again, his bruising grip found your hips and plucked them up, holding them tight as the rest of you still laid melted against the floor like a puddle before him. Like a ragdoll in his grasp, he moved your body, fucking your drooling pussy like the ravenous beast he was. 

As your eyes fluttered down to where he virtually split you in two, the dull bulge that rhythmically appeared in your lower stomach at each and every one of his ruthless thrusts caught your attention, the vision making you dizzy. 

You had never felt like this, never felt anything so intense in your whole life. He was just so menacing, so magnetic, so massive. Your own enthusiasm caught you by surprise, especially as your cunt soon began to cry out around him, showing your living room floor in your want as you squirted all over his rock-hard girth. 

Usually, Bucky would slow down and give you a moment whenever you had an orgasm, but in this moment, tonight, it wasn’t your Bucky that was pounding the living hell out of you, it was someone else, something else, and that creature only seemed to get even more riled up by your lewd display as he picked up his speed till his gravelly groans grew louder and his efforts began to go sloppy. 

“Please, Buck,” you mumbly pleaded, picking up on his telltale signs through your cock drunk haze, “not inside.”

But he didn’t listen to you as he just kept on fucking you till he pumped your pussy full of his cum. 

Panting and puffing above you, he still kept up shallow thrusts, rocking you against him and pushing his load out of your overly sensitive cunt with every piercing plunge. 

“Buck?” you heard yourself uttered as you found his dark gaze, though what stared back at you was not your love anymore as there was no recognition to be found in his eyes at all. 

Slamming you back against him hard enough for it to sting, you shuttered at the possibility that he was nowhere near done satisfying his carnal desire. 

But just before he could ruin you completely, a sliver of light began to dawn on the far side wall. Glancing out the window, you barely managed to spot the morning crest over the treetops in the distance. 

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[laiiaaa]

THE PART WHERE YOU KISS ME — JJ MAYBANK

summary: You're stuck with the job of getting a very drunk, very lovesick JJ into bed.

length: 2.4k

contains: tooth-rotting fluff, obsessed boyfriend JJ, soooo touchy he can't keep his hands off of you (can you tell my love language is physical touch lmfao???), mentions of heavy drinking of course, zero plot, he's a flirty little freak and i hate him

note: Not the happiest with this but I haven't posted in a week and I'm in the middle of writing three other pieces right now...so take this as an apology gift for not having the GFAW chapter out yet <3

Driving to the Chateau this late is never ideal, especially when you’re tired and ticked off from a busy shift. Your feet and back ache, your head could use a few Advil, and you would be perfectly happy to stay home and sleep for twelve hours. 

But when Kie calls you, groaning and saying Your boyfriend is wasted and won’t shut up about you and you need to come pull him to bed, you go. It’s as simple as that, really. Partially because JJ is already painfully stubborn when sober and only gets worse as the night goes on (code for: he won’t listen to anyone but you), and partly because you get a sweet kick out of his clinginess and extra loving.

So when you finally pull up and hop out of your car, the sound of Pope sighing Finally doesn’t surprise nor offend you.  Kie and Sarah scurry over, welcoming you with hugs and jokes about how sorry they are they had to call you while John B and Pope still tend to the drunken blonde.

“It’s alright,” you assure them, “I don’t mind.” And you really don’t, not at all, not when he acts all the more helplessly in love with you.

The bonfire still burns on, red-hot embers breaking off into the midnight sky. Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon plays from a speaker nearby, and beer bottles litter the ground as you approach. The fire’s warmth wraps around you, a handle of Tito’s—only half full—entering your field of vision as you find JJ reclined back on the ground, an arm thrown over his eyes while his other hand taps along to the song. You crouch down next to him and hear him hum in tune.

John B stands behind you, feeling a little helpless. “He’s been talking about you nonstop since he got, like, three shots deep.”

“And as much as we love you guys together,” Sarah adds, leaning into the boy’s side, “He doesn’t listen very well once he gets started.”

You shoot them a smile over your shoulder. “It’s okay, I get it. You guys can head in if you want, this might take a while.” The two lovebirds wave you goodnight as they walk back inside with Kie and Pope, and you turn your attention back to your exceptionally troublesome boy. “JJ? Time to go to bed.”

He grumbles without moving an inch. “I told you to fuck off, Sarah, I just wanna see my girl.”

Your heart flutters at the name—his girl. You’ve never heard him call you that. Does he seriously think you’re Sarah? “Your girl?”

“Yeah, you know the gorgeous one?”

“Might ring a bell.”

“Yeah, well, she’s the most…the most beautiful person in the history of…of forever, and she’s mine, so get outta here n’…go flirt with John B or somethin’.” He lazily waves you off, mumbling something you don��t quite hear.

A smile fights its way to the surface, and you gently place your hand on the smooth plane of his shoulder. “Oh, but I wanted to flirt with you instead. How’s that sound, hm?”

He quickly pushes your touch away. “It sounds like my girl’s gonna kill you any second now, so watch it, Blondie.” He slurs his words as he speaks, pulling giggles from your lips. You gently take his wrist in your hand to remove his arm from his eyes and press a kiss where your fingertips touch him. His eyes stay closed, and he juts his chin in the opposite direction in protest.

“Jay, baby, I’m not killing anyone anytime soon,” you coo, leaning over his chest and face while running a hand through his hair. 

He opens one eye, suspicious of your claims, but quickly realizes it’s you, and turns to look at you like he’ll never get the chance to do it again, his expression swallowed by a smile. “When did you get here, baby?”

“Oh, just now,” you answer, laughter lacing your words, “Kie called me over.” You press a kiss to his forehead before sitting back up, your hand quickly taken by his.

“You should’ve come sooner.” His other hand makes its way to your thigh, smoothing over your skin. “I was waiting for you, all by myself, and—” he abruptly sits up— “there’s something I have to tell you,” he whispers. He casts a glance to the Chateau. “It’s top secret.”

With him this close, you can smell the vodka on his breath. “Yeah? What is it?” You loop your arms around his neck and scratch at the nape of his neck, to which he instinctively responds by wrapping his arms around your waist and rubbing the palms of his hands along your back.

“This is top secret, classified information, princess, you can’t just get it for free. Everything comes with a price.” A sly little grin comes over him, tugging you a little closer.

Knowing JJ, you already know where this is headed. You decide to play along anyway: “Name it, then. I’m sure we can strike a deal somehow.”

He mulls over his words before saying, “Hear me out.”

“I’m listening.”

“You—” he points at your chest— “give me three—no, five kisses for the info up front.” When you raise your eyebrows in suspicion, he continues, “And every follow up question is worth another kiss.”

“This must be very important information.”

“Very.” His hands, still soaking in the feeling of you beneath them, start to play with the hem of your tank top, fingertips slipping beneath the fabric to feel skin. “Better pay up soon.”

You feign a look of shock and place a hand on his chest. “I didn’t even agree yet, don’t get too excited.” 

He pouts with furrowed brows, convinced his offer would be impossible to resist. “Why? Baby, come on,” he urges, holding you tighter, “This is the part where you kiss me.” His eyelids droop with drunkenness and fatigue as he presses his lips to your neck, but you quickly take his jaw in your hand and pull him away. 

“Ah ah ah,” you tease. “You come to bed first, then I’ll give you kisses for your secrets.”

“But I don’t wanna go to bed.” His hands work their way from your waist down to your hips again, soon grazing your thighs the way he knows erupts butterflies in your stomach. “I wanna stay here with you…have you boss me around. You’re very sexy when you do it.” He smirks while looking up at you, and you know for a fact he’s just trying to push your buttons.

You roll your eyes and push his face away as you start to stand up. “You’re a pain in the ass, I hope you know that.” As bitter as you try to sound, you’ll always have a soft spot for him the way he does for you, especially when your bitterness is met with that beautiful smile of his. You hold out both hands, towering over him and urging him to stand. “C’mon, Jay.”

He leans his weight onto his hands, stubborn as always. “Will you stay the night?”

“Not if you keep this up, I won’t.” You lend him a condescending smile. 

“But Baby,” he groans, finally complying now that the stakes have been raised. “I haven’t seen you all day, and I miss you.” He starts to shuffle where he sits, taking hold of your hands as you pull him up, dizziness causing him to stumble into your arms. “Can’t a boy just get some love from his girl?” 

There he goes again—his girl. 

You loop his arm over your shoulder and wrap yours around his waist as you lead him into the Chateau, surrounded by his warmth and the smell that’s so distinctly him: a bit of beachiness, mandarin and musky from his body wash, a hint of marijuana.

“You’re very kind,” he rambles on, “for coming here so late. I missed you.”

“I know, baby. You told me.”

He makes his way up the steps with you, following as you open the door. “Well, I’m making sure you’re sure.”

“I’m sure, love.” You smile to yourself, a little caught off guard with how open he’s become.

“I still have to tell you that top secret information,” he whispers, leaning down to your ear-level. His body wraps around you as you stand in front of him to open the door to his bedroom, his arms start to wrap around your waist again. “And you still owe me kisses for it.”

You usher him into his room, shutting the door behind you. “C’mon, let’s get into bed. That was the rule.”

He does as you wish without complaint for once, though when he does sit at the edge of his bed, he also pulls you to stand in between his legs. “I’m in bed now.”

“I can see that,” you giggle, hands massaging his neck and shoulders.

“Does this mean you’ll give me a kiss now?”

“Not yet.” You tug at the fabric of his shirt. “Take this off, please?” You don’t think much when you say it, but once the words slip out and you see JJ’s brows raise as a cocky smirk crosses his face, you realize you need to cover your tracks.

He bites his tongue to oblige, nabbing the back of his tee before pulling it over his head. Revealed to you are his broad shoulders, his chest, those toned arms that are, admittedly, to die for, though you’d never tell him that directly. 

“You’re trying to undress me, baby?” he asks, too quick for you to correct yourself. His hands take purchase of your hips before taking up your thighs, his hands molding to your curves and getting treacherously close to your inner thighs.

Your face goes hot—why is he so good at this?—but you keep a straight face and grab his face, one hand cupping his jaw while the other supports the back of his head. “Do you want your kiss or not?” 

“Yes ma’am,” he responds, almost immediately. His eyes glaze over, entranced by everything you are. A drunk smile is sent your way, and he can’t really tell whether the tingling all over his body is just from the vodka, or if it’s your hands on his body, your snippy tone that he knows is full of love. He’s sure that no matter how flustered he can make you, it’ll never compare to how you make him feel with even the slightest of touches.

Your grip goes soft, and you rake your hand through his hair, his eyes falling shut and his head gone slack into your hands. “You’re beyond wasted, aren't you?”

He laughs heartily now, eyes still shut as he nods his head. “I can’t keep my eyes open any longer, princess.” Giggles line his words and his face scrunches in a smile, dimple on display.

“How much did you drink?”

“A few beers.”

“And?” You tug lightly on his hair.

“Mm, some vodka, maybe. A few shots.” His hands drag from the backs of your thighs, to your hips, to your waist.

“JJ.” You stare down at his clearly vodka-dazed face. “How many is a few?”

He hums to himself, as deep in thought one can be when wasted. “Maybe seven…or nine…don’t remember,” he mumbles.

You sigh to yourself, not surprised by his recklessness but still not all too happy with it. 

But before you can formulate a single thought, a single articulated response, he starts to pout—eyes still closed of course, because your boy is nothing if not a truth-teller. “You sound mad.” Even when wasted he knows you so well.

“I’m not,” you fib a little, for his own sake. You kiss his forehead, then his cheek before letting go of him entirely to pull back the covers for him. “Come on, time to sleep, yeah?” You give a soft tug on his hand as his body goes pliant.

He slowly but surely crawls properly into bed, giving you a show of his back muscles flexing and relaxing before falling face-first into his pillow with a hmph. You lay down next to him as he lifts his arm with all his might, slowly turning onto his side to make space for you. Legs intertwine without words, the warmth of his body blankets your senses, his weight grounds you.

“You need to hurry, princess. I need to…need to give you the information.” The words are half-muffled by his pillow, and his eyes are still shut. 

“Oh. We’re still doing that?” You’re surprised he even remembers the information at this point—whatever it might be. 

He squeezes you tighter into his body, pulling a smile from you as he groans. “Yes, we’re still doing that…it’s important. You need three more…”

“Okay, okay,” you soothe, and you press a kiss to his shoulder. “Does that count?”

“Mhm, two more.” A stupid, drunk, terribly charming grin crosses his face, and it feels like you’re falling for him all over again, teetering at the edge of a cliff. His arm, still heavy on your waist, shifts a little, and his fingers dance along your back and light fires where they touch.

You curl your hand, gently, along the crook of his neck and kiss his jaw. “And that counts as well?”

With the way you’re whispering your words into his neck, JJ swears he could die happily. “Mm, sure does.”

For the fifth and final kiss, the corner of his mouth. It curls into your kiss like he knew it was coming, and you give him one more just for good measure—and, maybe, because seeing him smile is worth his weight in gold. You brush your hand through his hair before hugging him a little tighter towards your chest, all too aware now that you won’t be getting any information out of him the rest of the night. This minor inconvenience, however, doesn’t seem to compare to having him in your arms, his breath against your neck, his arm wrapped around you to tell you he’s there, and he’s there to stay, and he wants to be there more than anywhere else.

You think that you could play this game a million times over. The part where you kiss him—that is, when his lovely, sweet little smile peeks through that rough shell—will never get old enough to retire.

(But for tonight, you can live without more of his drunken teasing. Just for tonight.)

[taerple]

JOHN PRICE - ATTITUDE READJUSTMENT

— warning: in no way this is meant to sexualize anyone, this is all entertainment purposes only. thanks for reading.

- harsh language. possessive behavior. smut scenes which includes eating out. shit gets wild.

Who the fuck does he think he is? Thinking he can just waltz in my life out of the absolute blue and tell me I’m his? What a delusional fuck. I threw my phone directly at the pillow before plopping myself haphazardly onto my bed, glaring at the ceiling angrily. If only he knew what I was like, really knew what a bitch I could be.

Fuck him. He doesn’t know a thing about me, never has he even attempted to. He doesn’t know my favorite color or my tv shows i enjoy.

I already blocked him from any social media platforms I’m registered on or I could think of. The last thing I need right now is him fucking messaging me. But it’s like the universe hates me right now as my phone starts ringing, and I’m already full aware who it is. I feel the anger bubbling in my throat because of course I forgot to block his damn number but god, the fucking audacity of this man? My stupid ass picked up the phone and answered it…

“Cut the fucking call I dare you. I’ll come over there right now and fuck the shit out of you until that shitty attitude of yours is gone. Mark my words.” He huffed, the anger palpable in his tone. Who the fuck does he think I am? His little bitch who does as he says? I don’t think so. With one tap I ended the call. As if he’s gonna do something about it.

He can’t do shit. He’s nothing but a pussy. At least that’s what I had in mind until I heard a loud banging sound on my door, quite startling me. It hasn’t even been five minutes and this fucker is already here?

There’s no fucking way he’s out there. He’s bluffing, he has to be. The blaring of the phone’s ringtone and him banging on the door cuts my thoughts short. Slowly I accepted the call— bringing it next to my left ear…

“I’ll break this fucking door and come straight for your throat if you don’t open it within the next five seconds.” I can almost hear his teeth grit together over the phone. The repeated banging stops abruptly just the sound of the soft moving air fills the area. Silently walking towards the door and it is him, but I’ve never seen that emotion in his eyes before.

He’s looking directly at me through the eyehole with an unreadable expression. The anger in his eyes and voice are nowhere written on his face. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. He has the calmest expression painted— and that’s the most fucking terrifying thing I’ve seen in awhile.

He knows I’m there, just the door separating us. I could now feel my confidence and boldness I had seven minutes ago buried six feet under the ground. I can feel that horrifying aura around me making my hair stand. Whether I open this door or not, I’m fucked either way. I placed my warm hand on the unsettlingly cool door knob, twisting and praying I get out of this alive.

I’m pushed inside the moment I opened the door— a hand around my throat as I’m aggressively slammed to the door. My vision blacks out momentarily as my back hits the door. I suck in a deep breath. I can barely see his dark shadow through the black spots. He’s looming over me, towering over everything. Even in the dark, the look in his eyes are enough to make a girl fall on her knees. It’s like he’s staring down at me, daring me to defy him.

His hands are still around my throat, holding me against the door. I can feel his hot breath on my face, his lips inches away from mine. “You take me as a fucking joke, don’t you?” He chuckles bitterly before his head suddenly drops down, kissing me roughly. My body stiffens immediately but shamelessly give in to his soft pink lips devouring my own.

It’s not the comforting type, obviously. But the kind to make my cunt tingle as I squeeze my thighs together.

I hate myself for enjoying but who wouldn’t enjoy this? His tongue slips inside my mouth, tasting and exploring every nook, cranny and crevice. A small moan escapes my lips as I feel one of his hands drop my throat down to my thighs, roughly spreading them apart. His slender fingers linger on every inch of my thighs but not where I’m throbbing.

It’s pulsating so hard I can almost believe that he can hear it. “Do you think you deserved to be touched after pulling that shit?” He snarls lowly as he continues to ravage my mouth roughly.

This isn’t what I expected, not at all. It’s more like he’s showing me dominance by pushing me against a door, trying to crush me against it, to dominate my entire self with his actions. He throws me over his shoulder and seconds later on the bed like some ragdoll. I struggle under his hold but I guess it turns him on even more. “Do you think you’re worth for my cock?” He questions softly.

Must be entertaining watching me like this by the way his eyes are completely scanning my writing figure. He strips off my clothes and within a blink his body dips down between my thighs. His calloused fingers playing with the now soaked material of my lacey panties. My breathing quickens, my heart rate accelerating wildly.

He swiftly discards my panties. “You wanna act like a whore, you’re gonna get treated like one.” He groans before I yelp loudly, feeling my clit between his teeth. He bites teasingly, not in a hurtful manner— pulling away from my arousal, his teeth dragging my clit slowly. He takes a good look at my wet cunt. I could feel myself pulsating harder under his gaze

His long wide tongue licks my slit torturously slow, stopping before my clit. My body is just a pliable mess under him right now. His finger slowly circling my hole while he sucks on my clit again. I screamed, my fingernails digging into his shoulders as he pulls away. My breathing turns erratic, waiting for him to put his finger inside and fill the pain shaking emptiness I feel inside.

“You look so beautiful squirming underneath me, my love.” He growls hungrily before pulling away completely. He climbs on the bed, on his knees settled between my thighs again. The huge tent in his pants clearly visible to me now. “Take it off.” He commands calmly, and I lurch forward to meanwhile he discards his black t-shirt.

His throbbing cock glistening red, a size so huge I feel the doubt churning in my stomach. My eyes dart down to his cock then back to his face. His hand is on my throat once again, his tip hovering my entrance. His face lunges forward between my tits, feeling his tongue circling my nipple before his teeth clamp down on it. He enters at the same moment— I can’t differentiate the pain from the pleasure but whatever it is, it feels fucking amazing.

The length of his cock grinds against my spot. His fingers grasp my throat, blocking my airways making my head light and hazy. His pace picks up, thrusting faster and faster inside me as I grip onto his arms. His length has probably bruised my cervix, for all I care.

“Oh, fuck!” I gasped, feeling my legs slightly shaking.

“You’re fucking mine.” He growled. I could only hear a few words he was saying as his thick cock slides inside me again.

My eyes roll back unconsciously as another moan erupts from my chest. Not even seconds later— I feel hot stinging pain on my left cheek from his harsh slap, his hand grasping tighter. “Watch me, you’re gonna watch as I fuck this tight little cunt of yours. Your eyes better stay open when I make you come, understood?” I barely take in his words right now, my head is clouded— but that seemed like a satisfying response to him.

I can feel my stomach coiling harshly, as I inch closer to coming. A few moments later I feel my walls start to tighten around him. His thumb gently strokes my bud and that’s all I need— and that’s all it takes. I can feel the familiar warmth enveloping me, engulfing me whole. As my body shudders violently, my inner muscles contracting.

I pulled him in for a sloppy kiss before falling back to the mattress, completely exhausted.

“Hm, guess my girl just needed a small attitude readjustment. Maybe next time you’d listen to me.” He said before pulling out and laying beside me.

[strawberryforks]

whatever the hell we want // bellamy blake x reader

summary: reader didn’t care much for living, the eldest blake sibling made it worthwhile, even enjoyable

warnings: angst, suicidal thoughts/ideation, swearing

word count: 1908

a/n: this one is a bit heavy. i was having a bad day so i will apologize for turning the cutesy “how did bellamy and reader meet” request into this emotional abomination (sorry)

you probably should have been excited to be on the ground. it was that or being floated–tossed into a lock sealed door, trapped, and taunted with the faces of whatever loved ones chose to say goodbye (you didn’t have to worry about that, the only family you had, you met in lock up–your bio dad, marcus kane, was awful and on days that ended in ‘y’, you opted to pretend he didn’t exist) before another door would open and you’d be sucked out into space. the little oxygen in your lungs would tear them apart. what had sustained you for so long would then be your downfall. what you needed to breath would kill you.

you’d be so hot, so hot as your blood boiled and so hot as you died, staring out at the stars you loved so much. you were nineteen, the oldest prisoner to be alive and on the arc, but even kane’s powers had their limits. in three days you would be floated. three days until that would be your fate and still.

still.

when you woke up on that dropship you were pissed. it was the first thing you were mad about.

with a forever fuck-it attitude, you unbuckled your seat. floating around with a few others you ignored your best friend when she told you “sit back down, dumbass!” you cracked a grin and then the lights flickered.

while entering the new atmosphere something went wrong—something malfunctioned. maybe the shutes didn’t deploy or maybe you were just lucky but when the screaming started, you didn’t hear it for more than a few seconds because you were flung into one of the metal walls, just above the seats, and your vision spotted before going disappearing completely. sounds dulled, everything dulled. you were probably dying, you smiled because of that

when you landed, you woke up. that was the second thing you were mad about.

you were suspended in the air in some kind of fabric. It wasn’t uncomfortable or anything, not until you attempted to stretch your stiff limbs and found the material twisting. it spat you out on the ground and you made a noise. it bubbled from the back of your throat, expressing your obvious upset, you lifted your hand to touch your cheekbone–it was throbbing and you had the vague memory of your face slamming into the dropship wall. at fucking nineteen, you weren’t supposed to have to deal with any of this. you should’ve been floated a long damn time ago, would’ve like to have been too. you were the oldest prisoner on the ark, only alive because of who your daddy was. the daughter of marcus kane (you hate him as much as the next person) you’d been spared. he tended to get what he wanted.

where you lie, a boy does across from you on another makeshift bed. you lean over him, study him. He has some features you recognize. freckles and long eyelashes. you’re peering over him, observing, when those eyelashes lift and he’s blinking up at you. you scoot backwards not wanting to bang heads (yours was quite tender).

the hand that you have been absentmindedly feeling around your face with, came away with no blood coating, “i’m ocatavia’s brother, bellamy.” bellamy blake, okay. you’d heard of him and despite never meeting him before, the stories octavia had told you, mostly about how he protected her and made life under the floor less horrendous, you decided he was safe.

you glance at him, not all that hesitant. your best friend was a force and if she left you alone, in here, with him, he was trustworthy. your lips are pressed into a tight line. you don’t need to introduce yourself, he already knows. of course he does. you assure yourself he knows because you’re his little sister’s best friend and not because you’re kane’s daughter, the one who killed a man and got away scot free. you had a damn good reason but the ark’s justice system was lacking.

you tell yourself he isn’t judging you, he doesn’t look like he is, but you know you deserve to be judged so it’s a losing battle.

you glance down at your wrist and see it’s bare. the band that transmits your vitals to the ark is missing, and when you look at his wrist, you realise he isn’t wearing one either. “lost in the rough landing?” you ask, with a lilt to your voice.

his shoulders shake as he laughs a little. “something like that.”

you sit back up and climb back into your hammock. this time your hands are both out beside you to stabilise yourself. it’s quiet for a moment, the tent dark enough you know it’s night time. “why’d you take it?” you asked, unable to stop your curiosity.

“the ark hasn’t done anything for us. they sent us down here to die, because we’re expendable. in their eyes we’re just repaying them.”

oh. so your dad probably thinks you’re dead right now. that doesn’t unsettle you as much as it would the average person–actually you don’t mind it at all. let him learn what it means to fail, to lose, in some permanent way. let him face the brunt of the consequences his actions wrought for once. maybe this sentence would be the one to ruin him.

you stare at the pitch of the tent. are we on earth right now? is it safe? did the others survive? what happens now? your mind is flooded with questions.

“you think loudly.” bellamy informs.

“i’ve been out for awhile, huh?” in response, he nodded. “is it okay? is everyone okay?”

“they are. you almost weren’t though. that stunt you pulled? it was a whole different level of dumb.”

it’s peaceful until sunrise when the screaming starts. Guttural moans and groans echo from within the camp. “That’s jasper,” bellamy supplies while you’re rubbing your head, all but pleading with the ache to subside.

then octavia’s bursting through the tent flaps, “i knew i heard voices!” she pulls you outside with her and just… woah. everything is brighter. unlike the monotones on the ark there’s all kinds of colours. blue sky, green tress. they’re so green and so many different shades. light, dark, sage, evergreen. you’ve never seen anything so beautiful, other than your stars. you miss them, and looking up at the sky you can’t see them only clouds–white floating cotton that moves with the wind. you’re on earth and you don’t know if you belong here but in all fairness you didn’t belong on that spaceship either. the only place you thought might be a good fit for you was now miles upon miles away. a good thing, if you asked octavia.

the “whatever the hell we want” movement was one you supported quickly and joined even quicker. bellamy and his buddies at its forefront you figured, why not. you liked to fight, so thats what you did. you threw punches and received them and slaps to the face. It satiated you need to self destruct and would until bellamy or octavia intervened. you didn’t quite care for danger and took as many guard and patrol shifts as you could. you liked carrying a weapon, liked exploring, and hated being cooped up and confined.

you were walking away from the wall, alone this time, with no particular destination in mind. sometimes you brought octavia with you but she was busy talking and flirting (not in that particular order) her brother never liked when she joined in on your adventures so it was probably better that she wasn’t with you.

“not dragging my sister along with you this time?” a familiar voice chided. bellamy blake. speak of the devil and he shall appear.

you shrug your shoulders and continue walking. “not this time, no.”

“hey! come back. where the hell do you think you’re going.”

“i haven’t decided yet. maybe the river. maybe the caves. maybe, it’s none of your business,” you respond dryly, still walking ahead. his hand clamps down on your arm and he stops you from moving further, “what, bellamy? what?” his eyes, alight with fire, something you’ve seen in your best friend once or twice, full of curiosity, and understanding, meet your own. he gazes into your dead ones, takes a look at your blank expression and bends down. a hand grips the backs of your thighs and then he’s picking you up. you’re slung over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and had you not been so emotionally empty you would've been incredibly impressed. “what the hell bellamy? what are you doing?”

“whatever the hell i want, though, that? it doesn’t apply to you anymore, not when you don’t know what you want,”

“i do,” you argue.

“not when what you want isn’t anything good.” he fires back.

and that’s how you met bellamy blake. at first you hated him, hated how he drug you along wherever he went–patrol was nice but he would insist on bringing you everywhere, even on the most pointless errands. to do the most boring things. he made you drag logs to help reinforce the wall and sometimes he didn’t even help. prison warden or friend, who fucking knew?

but bellamy kept you busy. kept you distracted from the brewing storm in your head.

you got used to him. bellamy blake became your new normal and even made you smile a few times, usually when firelight was reflecting off of both of your cheeks as you roasted your dinner. the first time, you sat on a log beside him, your supper sitting inside of the flames, blackening. he went to grab the stick from you–probably guessing you were attempting to light yourself on fire, or that you’d begun to dissociate. you snatch the stick back. “it’s burning,” he warns, voice having a sharp edge.

“sorry if i would rather taste charcoal than two headed, six tailed, mutated squirrel.”

that night he held you. you let him.

close to his chest and away from any and all danger, you slept soundly and dreamlessly for the first time in years. the sleep–it helped with your mood, too.

bellamy held you again. he always liked to hold you—to have a hand in yours or resting on your shoulder. this time, the touch wasn’t comforting, to assure himself that you were real and not going anywhere. this time that physical touch was the only reason you weren’t going anywhere. his grip was tighter, thank god.

the grounders were coming an the only way to stop them or at least to slow them down was to blow up the bridge. you needed to place the bomb but everyone was terrified to let you go, bellamy especially. you did what you had to, sneaking away and setting it. you were scared–you didn’t know when it happened, when you started wanting to live, but it was a soul-deep change that you knew had something to do with the blake siblings. specifically bellamy, who’s companionship you hadn’t wanted but needed more than anything.

you placed the bomb on the bridge and detonated it, running as fast as you could as the moss covered stone crumbled behind you. the structural integrity was giving away and you were so close tot he edge but… you started to fall. you closed your eyes, pressed them shut as tightly as you could and then that hand was there.

bellamy’s. closed around your wrist and holding on for all he was worth. your heart beat so hard in your chest you had to look down to make sure you hadn’t been speared by a grounder, and that it wasn’t leaking out.

you loved him and you were so thankful he never listened to you. when you said you didn’t need him, when earlier, you shouted at him and told him not to follow you–it was a weak distraction but now, he pulled you back onto solid ground and wrapped you in his arms and you had no regrets. none at all. well… you had one, but it was easily rectified.

it was a struggle, pushing him away at the shoulders, holding him at arms length and seeing the worry on his face all over again. it was a struggle but when you stopped regretting things and dove back in, moulding your lips together in a passionate kiss, everything was better. bell’s hand palmed your cheek and pulled you impossibly closer as yours moved through his hair.

[estinesstories]

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓓𝓲𝓭𝓷’𝓽 𝓜𝓮𝓪𝓷 𝓣𝓱𝓪𝓽.

𝙑𝙤𝙭 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙑𝙤𝙭 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙖 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙗𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙤𝙩𝙝 𝙚𝙣𝙙 𝙪𝙥 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧. 𝙉𝙚𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣 𝙞𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙖𝙘𝙝 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘼𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩, 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙡 𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙪𝙖𝙜𝙚, 𝙗𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙩𝙤𝙭𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙮, 𝙫𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚, 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙.

(𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮, 𝙄 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙩 🥰)

It all started with a slam of the door, that’s when things first started going down hill.

“Don’t slam the door,” You grumbled, one more slam and you’d have to buy a new one. “where have you been? You were supposed to be here hours ago.”

He only scoffed and glared at you out of the corner of his eye, taking off his shoes. You leaned against the kitchen counter to your spacious apartment with your arms crossed, dressed in a sweatshirt and some sweatpants.

“Don’t ask me stupid fucking questions,” He huffed, not yet meeting your eyes as he made his way to the cold dinner plate left on the island counter you were leaning on. “I told you I had a meeting that extended my hours.”

“No, you didn’t.” You stated sternly, making him finally look you in the eyes with annoyance. You ignored it and kept on, your voice rising with every word till you were almost yelling. “You never tell me anything, and it always leaves me worried on the couch looking at Velvette’s socials to make sure you’re there and not-”

You quickly cut yourself off. What were you even going to say- cheating? You felt your eyes sting slightly at the thought, but Vox didn’t seem to notice your sudden discomfort, instead taking the situation in the worst way. He growled, though it came out distorted, as he stomped a few paces towards you.

“What, fuckin’ some other chick? Are you seriously accusing me of cheating?” His own worries that accumulated inside his head came out in fits of anger. He didn’t mean that, not with that tone. Still, he went on. “Do you actually think I’d do that to you? After all I’ve done for you? If anything, you’d cheat on me!”

Holy fuck, he didn’t mean that at all. His screen glitched as he over thought the words, but you were too busy arguing, hurt that he would think you’d be disloyal.

“What in the fuck are you talking about? Why the hell would I ever cheat on you, Vox!?” You yelled in his face, vision becoming blurry from tears. He scowled at you, eyes widening in surprise at your little outburst, not even noticing this wasn’t anger, but pain putting you in this state.

“You don’t ge- zzt- to yell at me like that, fa-c-ce it! We both know you’d be t-t-the one to cheat in this relationship, you don’t-t-t even like me anymor-r-re!” He yelled back, voice glitching as his fans ran wild to stop him from blowing a fuse. You were taken aback, but refused to show it too much.

“What the hell are you talking about? Vox, when have I ever been anything but loving to you!? You’re the one running around, not telling me anything, lying to me, and making up shit excuses not to be home when I’m awake!” You cried, why would he accuse you of not loving him? That’s insane!

“What am I t-t-talking about? The fu- u-u-u-zzzt- ck are you talking abou- u-u- t!?” He shoved a finger in your face, but didn’t dare touch you. “For the last two fucking m-months, you’ve been so dis-s-s-tant! You never go on any dates with me, e-e-e-every time I’m home you’re either asleep or giving me the fucking c-cold shoulder.” He almost mumbled the last part. He hated these fights so much, and so did you, but when you were both tired, stressed, and stripped of love for months, stuff happens.

“That’s because you’re fucking famous, Vox! If I ever went out with you, it wouldn’t be date, it’d be a damn interview!” Tears streamed down your face, and Vox felt his heart break into a million pieces as he stopped dead in his trace. But he couldn’t just shut the fuck up, could he?

“Well, you should’ve f-zzzt-cking known you were gonna get your a-ass flapped down by fans-s when you chose to date one o-of the largest company owners-s-zzt- in the pentagra-a-a-m!” He deadpanned, face scrunching up with a mix of annoyance and guilt. Why couldn’t he just shut the fuck up?

“Well, maybe I didn’t date you because you were fucking famous, I dated you because I fell in love!” You retorted, getting inches away from his screen. Why couldn’t he just get it through his thick frame?

“Or m-maybe,” he was grateful he had no tear ducts, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t cry. “You jus-s-t couldn’t comprehend-d the idea of not being o-o-on top, the right h-hand of one of the most pow-w-erful s-s-zzt-inners in the pentagra-a-m. You just ha-a-d to play with my feelings-s-zzt- and use me-e to get better-r.”

All of his insecurities about your relationship were just thrown on the ground in front of you, and now you could see that you weren’t the only one suffering in this short time of your relationship. You understood where he was coming from, and realized that this screaming-fest wasn’t helping anything.

Your eyes softened as they gazed into his pink ones, his beautiful pink eyes, brimming with sorrow. Tears freely flowed hot down your cheeks now as you looked at him lovingly.

“Oh, baby…” you whispered as you slowly brought your hand up to the side of his screen, gently caressing it as he only stared at you. As you softly rubbed the pad of your thumb across the side of his screen, though, he couldn’t help but lean into your touch.

Just because you fight sometimes, doesn’t mean you don’t love each other.

𝘼𝙡𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩! 𝙏𝙝𝙖𝙩’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙙, 𝙝𝙤𝙥𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙩, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙮 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪! 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙮 𝙨𝙖𝙛𝙚! 💗💗💗💗💗

𝘿𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙗𝙮 @𝙘𝙖𝙛𝙚𝙠𝙞𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙣𝙚

[wolfjackle-creates]

Ghost!Robin Arc 2 Part 1

Happy WIP Wednesday! Ghost!Robin was the clear winner of last week's poll. Check out this week's poll if you want a say in what gets posted next. For any newer followers who aren't aware, the entire dinner scene has been written. I'm still working on getting it cross posted to AO3, though. That's going to be my next focus (once I finish editing the last chapter of The Two Ghost Motel, my EctoImplosion fic).

Story Summary: Jazz and Jason have been dating for a while. Long enough that it's time to meet the families. So a dinner at Wayne Manor is set up. Danny took great pains to manage all his Ghost King responsibilities so nothing ghostly would interrupt the meal.

But he wasn't expecting to see the ghost of the dead Robin hanging off Jason's shoulders.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.4k

-----

Jason stared at the ceiling and counted his breaths. Next to him, Jazz’s breathing evened out as she slipped into sleep. Every time he let his mind wander, he saw the ghost grinning back at him. Signing with Bruce and Dick. Hugging Alfred.

Trying to take back his place in the family.

And of course everyone responded well to him! Bruce always hated the ways he’d changed since his death. And the ghost looked to be everything Jason had once been. Green shaded his vision and he grit his teeth.

A glance at Jazz, her face soft in sleep, made him let out a quiet breath and ease his way out of bed. A light in the living room proved he wasn’t the only one awake and, for a moment, rage burned hot in his chest. Why did Jazz’s brother have to come to Gotham and fuck everything up?

But he pushed that thought away. Danny hadn’t broken anything. Just revealed that Jason was even more broken than they had thought.

He stepped into the light and froze again when he saw the ghost sitting in front of Danny. The two looked over at him, silent.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he grunted.

Danny huffed a laugh. “It’s a lot. Especially if you haven’t grown up around this stuff.”

Jason glanced back at the ghost and felt the pits rumble under his skin once more. They hadn’t been this active in years. Not since well before he’d met Jazz.

But there was a ghost who looked like him, was him if Danny was to believed, and he was trying to take over Jason’s spot in the family.

He let out an angry huff of air.

Only for the ghost to roll his eyes and sign for him to get over himself.

Jason was throwing a punch before he was even aware, only to almost fall on his face when his hand passed right through the figure. Who decided to point and laugh at him.

Jason scowled and made his way to the window. “I’m going out. I’ll be back eventually.”

“That… might not be a good idea.”

He paused, one foot on the window frame, and asked, “Why the fuck not?”

“It’s just… Robin’s tied to you. He can’t be too far from you and with the power I gave him, I don’t think he can turn invisible again yet.”

Jason growled and pulled himself back from the window and slammed it shut. He glared at the ghost. “Why the fuck do you have to come in and ruin my life now, just when things are starting to work out?”

The ghost, of course, glared back and signed that Jason had ruined his existence first by pushing their family away. All the while, he was making angry-sounding chirps and trills that had Jason bristling even more.

Then Danny was between them, holding out his arms. It felt like something was pushing down on his anger, trying to ease the pits away. He tensed, not trusting the feeling even as he couldn’t help but give in.

“Okay,” said Danny. “Clearly there’s more strong feelings going on here than I first expected. So, um, should I start explaining what I suspect now or should we wait for Jazz to wake up?”

Jason sat on the edge of an armchair, still tense, and waved him on. “I want to know what’s going on.”

Danny nodded. “So I’m no doctor. We’ll have to go to the yetis for real answers, but I can start with the basics.”

“Yetis?” Jason couldn’t help but ask.

Danny blushed. It tinted his skin green. He’d blushed red earlier, what did the change mean? “The yetis of the Far Frozen,” said Danny. “They’re the doctors I mentioned earlier. Their leader is named Frostbite and he’s been helping me out since, like, six months or something after I died. They’re the experts in part-dead, part-living biology simply by taking care of me. I don’t even think the fruitloop knows as much as them, no matter how much he likes to pretend.”

Jason closed his eyes and took a breath. Sometimes talking to people not trained in giving reports by Batman was a test of patience. He decided to let the fruitloop comment go. It didn’t sound like it’d be relevant to what he wanted to know—at least not yet. Maybe he could find out more and get a second opinion after meeting these Yetis. “So not only will you be taking me to another dimension, you’ll be taking me to a place called the Far Frozen where I’ll be looked at by yetis.”

Danny shrugged. “Yeah, basically. Jazz mentioned you liked to read. If you like, I could take you to the Ghost Writer’s lair after. He’s got a library that contains every book ever written and many that never got published. I’m not allowed in it after an incident the year I died, but he likes Jazz so I’m sure he’d let you in if you promised not to damage any of his books.”

Now Jason was staring for an entirely different reason. There was a place like that? That he could just go to?

A questioning trill made his attention snap back to the ghost and he tensed again.

“Yeah, Robin,” said Danny. “You, too, of course. Can’t bring Jason somewhere and not you, after all! Especially since you’ll both have to be present for the medical examination.”

Jason grit his teeth and forced himself to not flinch at Danny’s use of the name “Robin.” He refused to take his gaze away from Jazz’s brother and ignored the sounds the ghost was making. “When will we go?” asked Jason.

“Soon as Jazz wakes up, if you want. No reason not to. And there’s a few things I’ll have to do in the Realms anyway. I was expecting to be away a single night, not however long this”—he gestured between Jason and the ghost—“will take.”

“But they can fix me, right?” asked Jason. He needed the answer to be yes. That ghost couldn’t be allowed to ruin the fragile peace he’d established with his family or the life he wanted to start with Jazz.

To his frustration, Danny just shrugged. “I’m not a doctor, Jason. I don’t know what they’ll find when they examine you. But they’ll know more than anyone else in either this dimension or the Realms.”

“But you have suspicions.”

“I do.” Danny took a breath. “Remember the sensor? Actually, let me just pull it up now.” He rummaged through his bag and pulled it out.

Jason made an annoyed grunt at the delay, but didn’t say anything as the seconds dragged on while Danny turned it on.

After what felt like ages but was really less than a minute, Danny moved closer so Jason could see the screen.

“See, here’s me.” Danny pointed to a bright orange blob on the screen. “And that’s you, he pointed to a mostly purple blob, half as bright as Danny. But mixed through the purple were shoots of orange and blue. The three shades turned mostly orange as they extended from his body to a mostly blue shape. But orange and purple twined as inextricably through the ghost as it did through Jason. Danny pointed to the blue. “And that’s Robin. You’re mostly purple which means you’re liminal. And a brighter purple than I’ve ever seen outside of Jazz and my closest friends. Robin is mostly blue which marks him as an unknown ghost. I’ll be updating the system soon so he shows up as a friendly, known ghost. But what’s interesting is this part between you. You’re connected by ectoplasm that most closely mimics halfa ecto. And there’s currently only three known halfas in existence.”

“You think we’re a halfa, like you.”

“Either that or you have the potential to be a halfa. But, really, we’ll need to go to Frostbite to know for sure.”

“I just want him gone.” Jay would argue to a second grave that it wasn’t a whine, but he was glad none of his siblings were here. Or Jazz.

The ghost let out a series of angry trills and signed at him. Which Jason easily ignored by simply closing his eyes and cradling his face in his hands as he worked on forcing back the pits.

“I don’t think it’s going to work that way, I’m afraid,” said Danny, echoing Jason’s worst fears.

-----

Next

Jason is having A Time™️. Will it get better?

I've finally gotten around to making a Subscription Post for this fic, so this will be the last update I do the tag list for. Especially since it's been so long since I've updated, I feel kinda bad tagging all of you! But if you still want update notifications, please check out the subscription post.

Tag List Part 1:

@addie-lover-of-stories @justwannabecat @gin2212 @amercurio @regonold @overtherose @readerzj @sjrose1216 @echoednonny @deeterzz @blu-lilac @number-one-jew @rowanaway-fromthisbs @vythika96 @tired-yet-awaken @themirrorghost @emeraldcorpral @all-mights-asscheeks @darkhinauniverse @blep-23 @phandomhyperfixationblog @larkcoe1 @thegatorsgoose @job-ross-the-second @britcision @lenacraft @bubblemixer @androgynouslordofescapism @purefrickingspite @leftmiraclechaos @lizisipancardo @starlight-sparks @miraculousandmore @gildedphoenix @sometimesthingsfallapart @letmesayfuxk @phoenixcatch7 @skulld3mort-1fan @abaowo @dhampir-princess @idkmrpianoman @sarina-elais @ballzfrog-blog @undead-essence @spookytragedyshark @flyingpansaurus @akintoabitch @marivictal @8-29pm @justreadingthefanfics @happybear135 @kisatamao @spoopyspoony @adorablechaos @sara0055 @screamingtofillthevoid

[average-vibe]

•Fame Hurts 2•

Pairing: Wilbur Soot x Streamer!Fem!reader

Summary: your presence on social media fades, and your ex notices.

Genre: Angst, Fluff at the end

TW: cursing, arguing

AN: HOLY SHIT YALL LOVED THE FIRST ONE???? SLAY??? AGAIN TY TO @modelbus for inspo!

TAGS (sorry if you didn’t want it!): @queenofdisaster-6 @lemonboys-stuff @cathers-world

part 1 is here

masterlist

Wilbur had broke up with you over 2 weeks ago, and you hadn’t streamed, posted, or made any presence on social media since then. You didn’t see any point in trying to redeeming yourself, as people would still say the same shit anyway. About how you were using him, how you didn’t deserve your fame, and how you needed to humble yourself.

quite honestly, you hated yourself for not seeing the signs sooner. How Wilbur wanted to ‘Talk’ that one day, or how he became distant for a little bit after you had collaborated on a stream, or when your stream views started to decline. It was so fucking obvious, but you were too caught up in your own emotions to notice.

You hadn’t checked your phone since then either. It had been on ‘Do Not Disturb’ since you went to an old friend, Carissa’s, apartment to stay. The only person who knew you were alive was Carissa, and she was the only one who saw you. As far as everyone else knew, you had disappeared out of nowhere.

But today, for some odd reason, you had the urge to turn your phone off of ‘Do Not Disturb’ and check your notifications.

There were about 2000.

Texts, comments, DMs, and tags had taken over your notifications, mostly people just wondering where you went.

@bae: where did @yn.loves.you and @WilburSoot go??? did they die? where did they go??? —>@gaywaffle: i’ve been wondering this forever! like did smth happen???

you didn’t know Wilbur stopped posting too. but sure enough, his last tweet was about 3 weeks ago. And his last stream was 15 days ago. He hadn’t been position either, and it was a mystery to you why.

Next, the texts. Oh, the texts.

Tommy: YN wtf where are you????

BooRan: YN, please answer

Wilbur (blocked): 75 messages

You knew it wasn’t gonna end well, and that it was a bad idea, but you clicked on Wilbur’s profile.

Wilbur (blocked)

I’m sorry

please yn

respond please

it was shitty

i’m sorry yn

i love you so much

please..

Your vision turned red. after all the shit he said about you, after all the hurtful things he did, after fucking dumping you because of people on twitter, he was begging you to come back. you got up and stomped to your car. Your plan? to go to wilbur’s house and yell at him until you couldn’t yell. or until you passed out.

You pulled into wilbur’s driveway, with nothing but your phone and a lot of angry thoughts. you opened his unlocked door, and found him sleeping on the couch. You got some water from the fridge, brought it over to him, and poured it in his face.

he woke up with a jolt, sputtering and thrashing around like an idiot. he looked at his attacker, who was you, and his eyes lit up.

“YN!” he said, a smile gracing his lips.

“YOU BITCH!” you screamed, wiping the kind look away from his face. "Fucking dump me on the side of the road, then try to get back with me?? cause you realized that your too fucking sad without a girlfriend to stare at? I’m so sorry that YOU brought this upon yourself!” you continued, voice faltering in tears. you didn’t want to cry, but you couldn’t help it. the fact that every single word was true, and not one misunderstood word, made it hurt so much more.

“YN, can i explain?” he asked, eyes looking more sad than anything.

“Explain what? how you-“

you were cut off by a kiss. A gentle, sweet, loving kiss. if you weren’t so mad, you would even admit you liked it. and you couldn’t deny the fact you leaned into it.

He let go, looking at your eyes. “I’m sorry, i shouldn’t have done that. I just hate to see you so mad- and at me, i just didn’t know what to do. can i please explain?”

you let out a loud sigh. “alright, go ahead.”

“Tommy told me that you loved me more than anything in the world, and so did Ran, and Phil too. everyone was saying how much they loved you.. except for the people who didn’t know you. I realized that the only reason people were saying that shit was because they didn’t know you. And if they did, they would never say that about you. Your sweet, smart, funny, beautiful, kind, and an incredible person. and i cannot believe i ever broke up with you. i’m so sorry.” he said everything in a fast paced manner, looking at the floor for the entire time.

your anger melted away. The way he said everything, you knew it was coming right from his heart. he glanced at you for but a second, and you decided to fuck it. you grabbed his face and kissed him, again. this time, it was happy. full of love, and pure joy.

you let go, and gave him a hug, at this point, you were both crying.

“YN, do you forgive me?” he asked, voice cracking.

“Yes, Wil. i forgive you.”

—

what can i say i like ending on words

ANYWAY

i wrote this is 1 sitting so uh

yeah

there MIGHT be a part 3 😏

only if you ask nicely 🙄

OKAY ILYSM BYEEEE

-vibe

[bartxnhood]

second chance | c.b

colby brock x fem!reader

summary: you’ve been bottling up your emotions for too long, when colby finally returns from an investigation you blow up. he begs for a second chance.

warnings: angst, mild language, argument.

a/n: back with another colby blurb bc i literally cant get him out of my mind lol. this was kinda inspired by a song so i will link it below and you can listen while you read if you want !! enjoy ! feedback is appreciated.

requests open

not proofread

Copyright © 2023 bartxnhood. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format.

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you frantically began throwing random items of clothing into your bag, rummaging through drawers, your shared closet, and the bathroom. getting what you needed for a few days away.

you were so tired of being alone. katrina was visiting her family, and sam and colby were on their filming trip which left you alone at the house. of course, you could just go home but you didn’t have the money for a flight at the moment and you were too keen on the idea of driving across the state alone.

so you just decided to stay back at the house.

but you were finally at your breaking point. colby was coming home today, but you just had enough. you needed a breather and the only way you’d get that is getting out and away.

you heard commotion downstairs and you took that as he and sam were home. “babe! i’m home!” colby announced coming upstairs, but when he opened the bedroom door he didn’t expect the scene in front of him.

colby asked, “where are you going?” as he dropped his bags to the floor. “staying with a friend” you answered, zipping up your bags and throwing them over your shoulder. you made a b-line for the door but, colby stopped you. “why?” you looked ahead, not wanting to face him.

he knew you were mad, he couldn’t understand why you were though. colby didn’t know about your loneliest nights, the ones you’d scream and cry yourself to sleep because of his lack of attention and time differences. he didn’t know how much you were suffering while he was out having fun recording his videos. you never told him.

“i just need to get out, colby.” you never called him that, it was always ‘colbs’ or ‘hun’. he pulled you back, you finally looked at him. “what’s wrong? talk to me” “nothing's wrong! im fine!” you weren’t. you wanted to punch him and call him stupid for not seeing your pain. colby sighed, “then why are you leaving?” finally, you snapped.

“because i’m tired!” you dropped your bags, your chest burning with anger. “i’m so tired of being left here alone for weeks, sometimes months while you’re gone. i know you’ve offered to let me join but you know i hate that stuff, colby.” it all came pouring out. “i’m so tired of waiting for you” you began punching and pushing his chest, the damn opened and tears flowed down your face. “i’m. so. tired!” his arms held you tightly but you fought back, and you cried, “don’t!” colby’s eyes were starting to tear up. “i wake up every fucking day reaching for you but you’re not here.”

“y/n..i..” he was at a loss for words, running a hand through his hair. “please just don’t leave, let’s talk this out, please.” he reached for your hand, pulling you closer his other hand held your chin up. “what can i do?” you blinked away tears blurring your vision, “i..” you fell silent, unable to think straight. colby added, “use your words.”

“just please don’t be so distant. i miss us, i miss you. i miss everything, and i just can’t be alone anymore.” colby nodded, “okay. i won’t leave. i promise” he wrapped his arms around your neck holding you closer than ever.

it had been a few hours since the fight, and now the two of you sat by the fire outside sharing a blanket. “im sorry for what i said and how i handled it. i was just so frustrated”

he hummed, “don’t apologize, im glad you told me. i think i needed to hear it” colby kidded your temple. “just promise me one thing, don’t shut me out. please” the pad of his thumb caressed your cheek. “i’ll be better too, i’ll stay home more often, kay?” you nodded, smiling. “i love you, colbs” he pecked your lips once more, “i love you too, y/n/n. i promise i’ll never act like that again. i’m sorry i put you through so much pain.”

[browneyedboys]

kiss me goodnight

you can find my other work here!

Pairing: rafe cameron x reader

Warnings: cursing, cursing, overall fluff (let me know if you find something else)

Word count: 2.4K

Synopsis: Rafe finds you in the library yet again, but this time your both a bit more open and a bit more enchanted.

a/n: this may or may not turn into a series, I promise nothing, feedback is always appreciated! 

“I’m starting to think I just need to go to the library after midnight if I want to find you.” Rafe hums, taking in the curl of your hair as it cascades down your back. Once again it’s far past the time which he considers suitable for studying when he runs into you. This time though, there’s no Ward Cameron breathing down his neck. Instead he slides the chair next to you out of its nook in the university’s table and takes a seat. 

He’d be lying if he said he actually intended to do work. A late night walk had been his original intentions, but when a familiar tug led him to the library he didn’t fight it. Rafe Cameron didn’t believe in fate before he met you but now he wasn’t so sure. 

You take far too long for a not hyper focused person to respond, blinking twice before tearing your gaze from your laptop. It’s nearing the hour when the words from your latest assignment become etched into your vision. This signals to you that perhaps it’s time to call it a night. 

Rafe Cameron also signals that. He takes a seat beside you in the deserted library. You’re not sure what you did to attract his kind smiles and teasing expressions but you’re sure you’ll miss them when they eventually leave. This isn’t something that happens and never stops, there has to be some catch to the golden boy. If there isn't, you are surely doomed. You’re falling too fast to recover

“You okay sweetheart?” He calls you out of your own head, gentle expression coercing you back into the present. 

Closing your laptop, you nod. “It’s just been a long day,” You draw out before shifting in your chair. You bring your knees up towards your chest so you can gaze at Rafe with your head on your knees. It’s the ultimate comfort: your own body heat. 

“Ah,” he croons in a sympathetic manner. “It’s friday night; why are you at the library instead of with your friends or even just studying at home?”

“My roommate hates when my laptop light is on when she is in bed and she likes to go to bed at like 10 so it’s just easier for me to come here. It’s quieter than any common room in the Pi Phi house but it’s still habitable, you know? I like a hunk of noise when I’m studying but I always end up talking to people, it’s a problem.”

“And you’re studying on a friday night because…” Rafe baits, his signature teasing smirk on his lips. His head tips to the side. Hair moving in a flowing tidal wave. You lean forward slightly, capturing a chunk of it in your fingertips. Twirling it around, you learn it’s just long enough to be tucked behind Rafe’s ear, so you do just that. 

“Because I was out of town the first half of last week, I’m trying to get an internship lined up for next semester so I had to go on a two day interview process.” You answer the question Rafe thought you forgot about, giggling at his hair behind his ear.

“All that for an interview?” He radishes his eyebrows, chuckling at your antics. There’s no one he’d rather have planting with his hair. 

You nod your head, a heat rising to your checks as you process where your hand has hovered. In essence you’re cupping his jaw now. “It was actually really fun but now I’m behind so I have to go to the library until it’s scary outside and deal with the repercussions.”

“You don’t even have to ask, you know I’ll walk you back.” He leans into your hand, enjoying the minute amount of physical touch. 

“But I’m not done and you clearly didn’t come to the library to study.” Dropping your hand to your side, you pause, looking over the only visible thing he has with him: his phone, “Why did you come to the library?”

“This is going to sound really fucking cheesy but I felt drawn to it, like it was a little side quest for the night and I had to go and investigate.” 

You grin at him, “Do you know how demeaning it is to be called a side quest?’

“Oh hush,” he murmurs, leaning into your gravitational pull, “You’re distracting me from what I really wanted to offer.”

“And what was that?” 

“I have a single so whenever you need a quieter but safe place with the lights on let me know. I not only have a desk but also one of those huge bean bags. Though I’m not so sure how good it would be for studying, I always end up taking a nap when I’m on it. But seriously, you should use my bedroom. It’s much safer than being here.”

“And how would you know if I’d like to come over and use it? Are you asking for my number in some elaborate scheme?”

“Honey if I was that tricky I could just ask around, I’m sure one of my brothers has your number. Aren’t you the social chair? You plan events with our chapter which means that our social chair would have your number.” You’re a bit taken aback at how Rafe seems to keep tabs on you. Sure, you know that he’s the bursar for his chapter but that’s only because you care about him. Does he care about you, in the same way?

“You’re devolving.” You tease as you tug your phone out of your backpack. “Unfortunately for you we only communicate over snapchats that sometimes Jett drunkenly opens and then has no idea what the plan is.” You hand your phone to him anyways, contacts screen open to a blank slate; who would have known this is how your night would end up. 

“No,” he grins, “my plan is going exactly how I envisioned it. Even if Jett is an idiot who doesn’t know what’s in front of him.” He hands your phone back over, his contact name shines up at you in the most Rafe fashion you’ve ever seen: love of my life. 

The words stare up at you. Inhaling deeply, you roll your eyes but can’t deny the way your heart flutters. You feel a bit panicked, if anything you’d describe this as whatever the flight instinct is. “That’s a bit gusty, Cameron. Even for a frat boy you are dangerously confident in yourself.”

“Not quite…” he counters, “I think people call it manifesting, right? I’m putting my wishes out into the universe and I’m seeing what I get in return. And my wishes right now are you. You’ve got me in whatever way you want me.”

You reel at his confession, slowly blinking away the mist that seems to have appeared in your brain. How can you even respond to a statement like that? Your usual arsenal of witty riparte doesn’t seem to cut it. You can’t respond to a genuine remark with a dismissive gesture. Or perhaps you could but that wouldn’t convey your current state; It’s your turn to be bold. “And if I want you to walk me home and kiss me goodnight?” 

Rafe beams, after many seconds of overthinking his expression he is sharply rewarded with your approval. His lips trace the slight upward bend of your lips. They felt so soft a week ago when he trapped your bottom lip between his fingers. Rafe wonders if they’d feel that soft against his lips? Would you kiss him as soft as his love for you seems to be? “I don’t even know how to properly phrase my contentment at that idea.” 

“And I don’t know how to respond in general,” You flush, packing up your bag with the slightly shaky hands of someone who has put their mouth above their actions. The thought seems nice but now you’ve created this intense pressure on the evening, what if it’s not what you or Rafe truly wants. 

Rafe extends his hand to you once you’ve slung your backpack over your shoulder. He pulls you up and out of your chair, the wooden vessel rocks back and forth in your absence. His hand feels sturdy on its own, a solid form for you to hold onto. Some things feel as fleeting as the setting sun, but not the idea of the two of you. Despite how nervous feelings make you, you’re confident in the role of fate. It has dragged the two of you together. 

“You’ve gone all quiet,” Rafe notes as you both walk out of the doors of the library. He squeezes your hand slightly, taking in your side profile as you glance around campus in the dark. It must be draining to always be thinking about your surroundings. He has to admit it’s something he only really thinks of when he’s walking you home and you do something he doesn’t think of often. 

You look at your intertwined fingers, noting how chipped your nails are. “Would you let me paint your nails?” Your thumb traces his pointer finger nail, imagining a green hue similar to yours on it. 

Rafe’s eyeline returns to you, as it always seems to do. What is he without the idea of your presence and the familiarity you seem to hold. “Only if we get to match, and it isn’t red. I hate red.”

“Red’s the worst,” you agree, “It just feels angry in a way I will never match. I don’t understand red lipstick or nail polish, it’s just too much for me. But would you do green or brown? Or a nice blue?”

“Brown? I don’t think I’ve ever seen brown nails before.” He swings your conjoined hands back and forth, smiling. He’s starting to realize that he’s only a few kisses away from naming the stars and the sun after you. 

“Well then I think we will have to do brown nails then. I think it’s a nice color. Black is too edgy for me but sometimes colors are overrated. A nice brown is a great compromise, and I love nothing more than a compromise.” Rafe shakes his head, tilting to get a better view of you in the streetlights, “I think you secretly hate compromises. You’re far too nice to everyone and perhaps you’re itching for someone to come along and give you everything you didn’t even know you wanted.”

“I guess it would be nice to have someone pay that much attention to me,” You pause. Does Rafe already see through your perfectly constructed city to the hearth of the foundation below. You never thought anyone would get this far, taking time to see past your easy smiles and late nights. You’d give up anything to have someone pay that much attention to you. 

As you make the final turn, ending up on the street that both of you live on, Rafe curbs the disappointment which fairs in the pit of his stomach. He wants to spend entire days with you doing absolutely nothing. It’s not like you’ve spent more than a couple hours in each other’s company, it’s always been cut too short by the arrival of your front door. “Do you think your stairs would turn into a slide like in Harry Potter if a guy went onto the second floor?”

“I mean probably. That or I’d get shunned by everyone of my sisters. It’s a sacred space up there, not to be corrupted by stinky boys. Why? You have intentions to sneak up and visit me sometime?” The thought makes your heart pound in your ribs, it seems nothing would delight you more.

“I’d never sneak in uninvited… I could just wait until one of those fundraiser dinners you guys host and then you could give me a tour of your shining house.”

“Well it’s far too late for me to give you a tour but some other time I’d love to. I’ll text you when I’m allowed to have male guests.” 

“Male guests? That’s possibly the most incriminating expression I’ve ever been referred to as before. But I’d love to be your male guest whenever you need me, Cory.” Rafe squeezes your hand twice, grinning at the street in front of you. 

“Shut up,” you flush, heat creeping up your neck in the way it hasn’t in a while. You’re not used to attention from men the way that Rafe seems more than happy to provide. You’re girl pretty but you don’t attract the gaze of men randomly, or at least they never announce it. 

The pair of you pause at the walkway to your house, growing silent in a way that only anticipation does so well. Rafe is the first to take a step down the concrete, tugging you along beside him. Tonight holds an implication like never before. You’re dangerously close to the precipice of something new. 

Your blue front door appears before you faster than you wish, leading to a pause. Rafe drops your hand, it’s much too cold in the late October air. He turns to you, eyes tracing the slope of your cheekbones. His gaze sifts from your left eye to your lips then to your right eye. You’re antsy with anticipation in a way that is unfamiliar. Gone is the trepidation. You step forward, into Rafe’s space, and peer up at him. 

He reaches up, tucking your hair behind your ear, tracing it until he can cup your jaw. Your eyes flutter closed, lips parting in the waiting game, the sight nearly kills Rafe. He has nothing to do but close the gap and capture your lips with his own. He uses his other hand to tug you forward until it becomes impossible to bring you any closer. The distance between the two of you is vanquished with the tug of his lip by your teeth. You wrap your hands around his neck, running a hand through his golden hair. 

Rafe is first to pull back, pupils blown and reflecting your disheveled state. “Your lips are so soft.” The hand which cups your jaw shifts, he runs his thumb over your bottom lip. You part your lips, drawing it into your lips. “Are you as pleased with that goodnight kiss as I am?”

You draw his hand off of your face, tangling your fingers in a mess. Drawing up on your toes, you peck Rafe’s lips, “This is a goodnight kiss, Rafe. That’s a I don’t want to say goodnight kiss.”

“So you want me to peck you on the lips from here on out?” He hopes not, Rafe’s not sure how long he could survive on chaste kisses after he has experienced what it feels like to be really kissed by you.

“Please never do.”

Rafe smiles stupid the whole way home. 

[111gloomtime]

it’s getting late.

⭐️ : fluff, sad, sfw, matt x reader

cw: mentions of anxiety

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lukewarm water hit your back as loud sobs left your mouth, involuntarily. your nails dug deeper into your legs and your head burrowed deeper into your knees with each sob.

“why the fuck am i even crying right now.” you think to yourself. nothing remotely stress-inducing had happened, but for some reason you just felt a huge weight on your chest and an insane amount of anxiety. you look up from your knees with red puffy eyes and wipe your tears. you reach behind you and turn the shower off, leaving you in complete silence. your thoughts were louder than ever. you sat on your shower floor, breathing heavily and rapidly. your vision starts to get blurry from a mix of your tears and your hyperventilating.

“shit. i am not passing out.” you think to yourself. you try and slow down your breathing but it’s no use. suddenly you hear a knock at your bathroom door. fuck.

“y/n? can i please come in? i think i heard you crying …” says matt in a soft tone. you were not worried about matt seeing you this way, you’d been dating for over a year now and he’s seen you looking much worse. but, you don’t want him to see you like this because you know he’ll worry his ass off about you.

“uhm .. yeah” you say with a sniffle. he slowly opens the door and looks at you. you look up at him with puppy dog eyes, and your bottom lip quivers. he walks over to the side of the tub and sits down, wiping the tears off your face with his thumb.

“baby.. what’s wrong?” he says, looking at you with his baby blue eyes. you can’t even get any words out, so you just start to sob again.

“oh baby no.. shh don’t cry.” he says in a calming tone.

“here let’s get you out of this tub.” he says while lifting you up by your arms. you try to stand but from all your hyperventilating you get super light-headed so you struggle to stay up. he catches you before you fall and scoops you up. he carries you to the bed and sets you down. he goes to your drawer and picks out a pair of sweatpants and one of his t-shirts to wear.

“let’s get you out of these wet clothes, huh?” he says. he begins undressing you and all you can do is look up at him with sad, doe eyes. even in your stressful, messy state, you still get butterflies for him. he starts dressing you in dry clothes and kisses your forehead. he then sits beside you and puts his arm around you, saying nothing. he rubs your back and you rest your head on his shoulder. you could stay like this forever, being this close to matt. he is the only person in the world you feel genuinely safe with.

“do you wanna talk about it now?” he says gently, looking in your eyes.

“there’s nothing to talk about. i don’t know why i was crying. i just.. i feel an overwhelming sense of anxiety. and i don’t know why.” you say, looking up at matt and then looking down at your lap. you always hated talking about things like this, and matt knows it. but for some reason, you’re willing this time.

“if it’s ok, i just want to lay here with you. i’m too tired to talk honestly.” you say tiredly, rubbing your eyes. matt simply replies by laying down, and you position your head on his chest while he pets your hair.

“it’s getting late. try and get some sleep, love.” he says. you feel your cheeks grow red from him calling you “love”, you always liked it when matt was soft like this.

“i love you so much.” you say quietly, before falling into a deep sleep.

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it’s kinda ironic that i’m writing this right before making the most gut wrenching series ever ( coming very soon )

[christhopersturniolo]

୨ PINKY PROMISE ୧

Summary: Y/n finally confronts her abusive dad, leading to a massive argument, where she leaves the house.

Warnings: Angst, daddy issues, violence, cussing.

Notes: English is not my first language, so I’m sorry about any mistake!

୨୧

Im on the living room couch since my dad left the house. My eyes blink slowly, struggling to stay open. I see on my phone, 2AM. The big yellow light only makes me drowsier at each second that goes by. As soon as my eyes close, I hear the door opening, automatically getting my attention.

I sit up, rubbing my eyes. I watch the old man walking through the living room with a bottle of beer in his hand. The familiar smell of alcohol fills the room. He looks in my direction, his eyes narrowing as they land on me. “What the hell are you doing still up?" He asks with a tone of accusation.

I hesitate before answering, finding the right words. “I.. I was just waiting for you, dad.” I reply. The tension in the room is big.

"Waiting for me? More like waiting to nag me, you little brat." He scoffs as he walks over to the kitchen, opening the fridge and getting another alcoholic drink.

I feel the rage burning inside me, but I push it down, knowing it will only make things worse. “I was worried about you” I say, my voice trembling slightly. “You were gone for hours, and..”

But before I can finish my sentence, he cuts me off with a bit of a laugh. “You are just like your mother, always putting your nose where you are not called” He takes another swig from the bottle. I put my phone in my pocket. I start getting up, maybe going to bed was actually the best idea, but it looks like he still has things to say. “You're the last person who should be worried about me, little bitch.”

All his words just remind me of how much I hate him. Since my mom died, nothing has been the same. He started getting into alcohol, drinking every day. I have bruises from all the times he had ever hit me. I hate when he mentions my mom, like he didn’t even loved her. I turn myself to him. “It’s not my fault you go out to drink like a fucking addicted, just because you can’t stand the idea of mom not being here anymore!” I say. “And I shouldn’t be worried?!”

“You are just like her” He looks at me with disgusted eyes. “Always running your mouth, just like your goddamn mother.” He gets closer, his breath hitting my face. “If she was here, she would be embarrassed of having you as a daughter, just like I am.” He pauses. “You are just a mistake. I wish I had used a condom that night. No one can fucking stand you.”

I shake my head. “That’s not true.” I try to convince myself. Some tears running down my face, I just can’t avoid them. I feel more and more angry.

He simply keeps talking. “And let me tell you,“ He points an accusing finger at me. “That shitty boyfriend of yours? He’s just with you out of pity.”

“You don’t know what you are talking about. You don’t know him, dad.” My breath gets heavier.

“He’s just using you, like everyone around you, piece of shit. You will see, as soon as he finds someone bett-“

Suddenly, before he could finish talking, I push him away from me, making him lose balance, almost getting him on the floor. “Stop! Just shut the fuck up already! Leave me the fuck alone!” I scream, tears blur my vision.

But my father’s rage only seems to intensify. He doesn’t give up. He comes back, his hand connects with my cheek, slapping me across the face, leaving a red mark. For some moments, I froze. “I hate you!” I yell "I hate being here! I hate every moment spent under this roof with you!"

“Ungrateful brat! That’s all you are!” He affirms, louder than me.

“I hate the way you treat me, the way you talk to me, the way you make me feel like I'm worthless! I’m out of here!” I use the same tone as him, but this time sobbing. And with that, I start walking towards the front door, I open it.

“Sure! get the fuck out of my house! And I don’t wanna see your ass back here when you realize the shit you’ve made!” He tells me. I take one last look at him before shutting the door.

I start crying uncontrollably as I walk through the dark streets. I don’t even have where to go, I just wanna get out of this place. The only thing I can think of is Chris. I need him. He’s the only one who will understand me.

The panic just builds up as I walk the fastest I can to his house. Each step that I take doesn’t feel real. How the fuck is this actually happening. After an eternity, I finally reach his house. I ring on the doorbell, nothing. It just makes me cry more and more. I ring again, still nothing. Until I finally see the door opening. His eyes half closed, shirtless only with his pajama pants on. He blinks in confusion.

“Y/n? What’s.. What’s wrong? What are you doing here?” He asks with his husky voice.

“Chris.. Im sorry.. I..” I try to speak but the words catch in my throat, I’m only able to cry. He pulls me into a hug, my head buries on the crook of his neck as I keep breaking down. He holds me tightly, as I cling to him, my tears soaking his bare skin.

He kisses the top of my head a few times “Shh it’s okay..” He whispers. “You don’t gotta say anything right now, I just need you to breathe, love. I’ve got you..” We stay like this for some moments, until I calm down a bit.

He pulls me back from the hug, making me look at him. “Why don’t you come in so we can talk better, huh?” He questions me calmly. Chris leads me to his room, always holding my hand. As we get there, he closes the door behind us.

“Let me get you something more comfortable to wear” He looks on his wardrobe. As soon as he finds it, he hands me an oversized hoodie and some fluffy pajama pants. Once I'm settled into the cozy clothes, my boyfriend guides me to his bed. We lay down, my head on his chest as a pillow. He strokes my hair gently. “I hate seeing you like this.. Do you talk about what happened?”

I sniff. “It’s just.. Everything with my dad..” My voice shakes as I talk. I start tearing up once again. ”We argued again, but this time.. I said I wasn’t coming back there, but I don’t even have anywhere to go..” I go back to crying.

“Listen to me, you do. You have me, you are staying here for how long you need to. I’m sorry I didn’t got you out of that house earlier.” He rubs my back.

I sigh. I look up at him with my watery eyes. “Can I make you a question?” I whisper.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“Do you ever.. Do you ever regret being with me? Do you ever wish you were with someone else?”

Chris's brows furrow with concern as he looks into my tear-filled eyes. “Hey, hey, hey.. Why are you asking me that?”

“I don’t know.. My dad is always telling me how you are going to leave me and.. I.. I don’t know..” I say insecure.

Chris cups my face with his hands. “Y/n listen to me, those are just lies. Im not going to leave you and I don’t regret being with you, I love you.”

“Do you promise me?” He wipes away my tears with his thumb.

He extends his pinky finger towards me. “Wanna make a pinky promise?” His sentence makes me chuckle a bit, like a little kid. Slowly, I reach out and intertwine my pinky finger with his. “I promise that I will always be here for you, Y/n.” He smiles. “Now can you promise me that you will never doubt about it?”

“I promise Chris.” He gives me a soft peck on my lips.

୨୧

omg this end was so shitty

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