#definitely feels like shes putting the blame on me cool cool cool

[blye-flower]

.

[tacticaldiary]

Can you write something about Simon being a little to rough with reader and they end up having bad bruises so they hide it from Simon and when he finds out he goes a little crazy and won’t touch them until reader snaps and tells him they need his touch

Painless Bruises

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

It really wasn't a massive deal, but she knows Simon would withdraw if he saw the evidence he left behind on her.

Masterlist

It's almost as if the day had a personal grudge against her, bringing along the hottest day of the year the one time she has to wear something unsuitable for the weather.

She itches the skin of her neck that's not covered by her black turtleneck, the long sleeves of the shirt sticking uncomfortably to her skin as she runs laps around the training centre.

Bruises.

Hand shaped bruises circle her forearms, a deep set shade of purple, and a particularly nasty one lines her collarbone, just under the juncture of the slope of her shoulder.

Thankfully she can blame the heat that creeps up her face at the thought of how she got them on the intense cardio they were doing. They were set to be dropped off in Serbia for a mission in 6 days, so the 141 was busy preparing for clearing their physical evaluations before they were dispatched.

Skin against lips, and the rustling of sheets last night. Simon had just gotten back from a solo mission somewhere up north and they hadn't seen each other in over a fortnight. Needless to say, when they did get a moment alone in his room last night things had gotten a little more intense than usual.

Rough, calloused hands held her arms in place, heavy breaths and feelings that could not be put into words exchanged under the light of the moon. She hadn't minded his grip, it had just surprised her. Simon was not a gentle person by any means, rough around the edges and as standoffish as the definition could get, but he had never been harsh enough with her for the evidence to linger into the daylight.

When she'd woken up the next day, catching sight of her arms, guilt pooled in her gut. She didn't mind it, it's not like they hurt particularly bad, but she knew if Simon saw them he'd withdraw.

It was an instinctual feeling, but she knows she's right. Simon had...a difficult past, one he rarely shared with her but she'd heard enough to know that he'd never want to hurt the people he loved.

She was afraid that bruises inflicted by him, especially ones as ugly as these, would make him blank and pull away, or even worse: treat her like she's fragile.

She didn't want a gentle Simon, she wanted him in all his brash, rough glory.

"Come on Gaz, the lass is running circles around you!" Soap heckles as she passes him by. She can't help but stifle a snort when she hears Gaz yell back an insult, a good few paces behind her. Ghost was standing next to Soap, watching the pair finish their last lap. His eyes follow her, bore into her as she passes. Him staring quietly is nothing new, but she can feel the questions from his gaze from halfway across the room.

She'd slipped out of his room before he'd woken up, and had forgone meeting him in the mess hall for breakfast to figure out how exactly she was going to hide the marks from him.

Slowing down after her last lap, she plops down on the ground with a sigh, gulps down the water bottle Soap pushes in her hands, the cool water a nice reprieve from the sweltering heat and sweat. Going to tug her turtleneck away to let some air hit her throat, her fingers freeze on the fabric when she feels Ghost's gaze on her again. Slowly lowering her hand, she clears her throat and turns her attention to Soap and Gaz bickering.

"You've got a big mouth for someone who can't outrun me either, MacTavish." She snickers, making Gaz grin.

"We're both in second place, mate." The man laughs, clapping Soap on the shoulder before offering a hand to pull her up. She accepts gratefully, feeling her legs burn pleasantly from the exercise.

She doesn't anticipate Gaz grabbing her forearm to pull her up. He grips right over her bruises and tugs her to her feet. It's just her luck that she can't manage to swallow down the strangled, muffled sound of pain in the back of her throat.

"You alright there?" Gaz lets go of her, brows furrowing. Ghost seems to have moved closer, ever the silent person.

"Fine." She swallow, her arm stinging. "Just...got a stitch in my side." Waving off the grimace Soap gives her, she's about to move on, ask if any of them would want to hit the bar with her after this, when a gruff, low voice speaks up.

"Roll them up."

She blinks, her stomach twisting as she turns to look at her Lieutenant.

"I'm fine, Ghost-"

"I didn't ask." He cuts her off. "If you're injured, better to get it fixed than ignore it."

"Good thing I'm not injured then." She offers him a smile. The other two boys glance at each other.

"Sergeant." There's a sense of finality in his tone, from which she knows it's an order. Meeting his eyes, she silently pleads with him to change his mind, a staring contest with a brick wall. Resigning herself to her fate, she relents, taking a deep breath and gingerly rolling up her sleeves to her elbows.

The sharp hitch of Simon's breath is only apparent to her after months of leaning the tiny quirks of his body.

"Steamin' Jesus, how'd you mangle that up so bad?" Soap exclaims, grabbing her hand and turning it this way and that. Gaz whistled low, eyes narrowing.

"That's some nasty bruising " Gaz frowns. "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine." She snatches back her arm, shoving her sleeves back down. "Not as bad as it looks, trust me." Avoiding Simon's gaze is harder than it's ever been, but she chances a split second peek at his expression.

His eyes are the only part of his face visible, but they've always been the most expressive part of him if one knows his quirks. Right now? Right now Simon has the same look he sported when that building came down on Soap after one of his explosions malfunctioned from being rigged incorrectly.

Upset and muted horror. She can tell his brows are knitted tight under his mask, his jaw clenched because he knows.

"Medbay, now." Is all Ghost says, a hand on her shoulder leading her away from the group. Her protests fall on deaf ears as they exit the room, the others not questioning their Lieutenant.

The walk down the hallway is suffocating, and Simon's grip immediately retracts once they're outside. He takes a left down the hall and she hesitantly follows.

The medbay is to the right.

The barracks are secluded this time of the day, everyone out and about, so it's the perfect place to have this discussion. Not that she wanted to have it in the first place...

"Want to explain why you didn't tell me?" Is the first thing he says. He sounds angry, and only the most seasoned of his partners would recognise the edge of concern in his voice. "You think hiding something like that was a good idea?"

"I wasn't hiding it, I just-"

"Bullshit. I hurt you." He states, a flash of pain quicker than she can catch in his eyes. "Why didn't you say?"

"Because it's fine, Simon!" She exclaims, grabbing his arms, hoping he understands. "You didn't hurt me, we just...got a little carried away. It's alright, they don't hurt bad."

"I was too rough with you." A slightly strained voice that tugs at her heart. "Fuck, I'm sorry." The apology spilled out of his mouth unprompted, and for a moment she's left shocked because he's the last person to apologise for something unless absolutely necessary.

Which means he really believes he did something terrible.

"I forgive you." She says immediately. "There, problem solved, right?"

"No, that's not how this shit works." Simon clutches onto the back of his neck, agitated at himself. "I didn't...fuck, I didn't mean to..." Something dawns on him and he meets her eyes with a newfound sense of dread. "Where else?"

Her pause is enough to give him his answer.

"Show me." He demands.

"Simon-"

"Take it off." He tugs at the bottom of her shirt. His fingers never brush against her skin.

Taking a deep breath and seeing no way out of this, she lets her shoulder sag and concedes, shrugging off the turtleneck and leaving her in a short sleeved undershirt. His eyes snap to the bruising on her collarbone, his jaw tightening.

"Don't apologise again." She says when he opens his mouth to talk. "I'm not fucking fragile, Simon. I can take a hit or two, this is nothing."

It's the wrong thing to say, the worst thing to say judging by the way Simon instantly recoils, taking a step back at her words.

"I'd never hurt you on purpose. Never." He says quietly.

Ghost is a silent person. His footsteps never detected, melting in the shadows and slitting throats before anyone realises he's even there.

But he's not quiet. Never quiet. Never with her, at least.

"I know." She soothes, moving to close the distance but pausing when he shakes his head. "I worded that badly..."

"I wouldn't...I'm not-"

"You're nothing like your father." She states, pulling the words out to lay out for the both of them. "I trust you, Simon. I trust you every day with my life on the field, and my heart in our bedroom." She gestures to her bruises. "I don't blame you for any of this. The both of us were too occupied to pay attention to be considerate and hell, I liked it."

At his skeptical look, she continues on. "If it makes you feel better, the day you lay a hand on me is the day I beat your ass into the ground."

"I'd let you." He says gruffly, straightening up slowly.

Gently, he takes her hand, turning it over to bare her forearms. Gently brushing a thumb over the purple and blue, his eyes flicker to her face to scan for any discomfort. When he finds none, he directs his gaze back to the bruising, his mind somewhere else.

She lets him have a few moments of silence, knowing full well that this wouldn't be the end of this.

"I'm sorry." He says again, gently brushing his fingers over her collarbone. "Won't happen again, love."

                                · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·  

Their quick, secret touches throughout the day had always sparked her to life.

Whether that be a gentle brush of their arms while they walked down the hall, or a quick squeeze of a shoulder after a harsh day of training. Inconspicuous touches that carried more meaning to them that met the eye.

She can count on one hand how many times Simon has touched her over the past three days, even if four of her fingers were blown off.

It's frustrating. Always busy, never standing within the length to reach out and touch, always out of his room when she'd knocked and peered in at night. He'd redirect her whenever she tried to initiate anything, even a friendly hug. Once he'd legitimately stepped away from her, and she's not going to lie, but it stung a little.

Needless to say, she was itching to corner him.

As she waits outside the meeting room where he currently is with Price, she thinks about how she knew this would happen. She knew he'd withdraw and refuse to be near enough to touch her properly, and it's driving her up the wall because godammit she misses him.

He knows he's fucked the second he walks out, pinned with a glare that promises consequences if he doesn't follow her. With a quiet sigh, he trails behind her until they're in her room, the door clicking shut behind them.

"Did you need something, love?"

"Funny you should ask." She deadpans. "You drive me insane sometimes, you know that Simon Riley?"

It's a little funny how he straightens up with the use of his full name, more at attention. She'd have poked fun at him in she hadn't been as angry.

"Do you think I'm fragile, Simon?" She snaps. "That I'll break if you breathe on me? You've been practically ignoring me for three days, pulling away. Walking away." When she strides closer to him, he doesn't move back. "And I swear to all that is holy, if you don't stop with this bullshit, I'm going to well and truly snap."

A pause.

"Well, someone sounds desperate." The poor attempt at deflection makes her even angrier. She grabs his hands, guides them to her shoulders and squeezes hard. He lets her, watching quietly.

Quiet. God, she hates it when he's quiet.

"Touch me. Just...you won't hurt me, Simon." She sighs at the feeling of his hands on her, burning even through her shirt. "You know you won't, you're just afraid."

"Not afraid." He grunts, curling his fingers around her shoulder, something she considers a small win. She can feel his hands twitch with the desire to abandon his self control and pull her closer. It almost makes her smile to think the distance is impacting him just as much.

"Then what?"

"Just...wary."

"Well stop it, then." She huffs. "I need you, Simon. I can't go about my day knowing that my damn boyfriend won't touch me because he think I'm fine china."

"You're one of the best soldiers." He rolls his eyes. "You and I both know you're anything but breakable."

"Then quit acting like a selfless asshole and-" She cuts herself off with a gasp when his hands slide to her waist, pulling her into his body. Warm and all encompassing, her blood sings at the contact after so long.

"This is what you wanted?" He hums, finally conceding. She shivers, feeling his chest rumble under her cheek.

"Yes." She sighs. "See, wasn't so hard, was it?"

He doesn't answer for a moment, the both of them taking a second to settle back down into their skins, feeling the familiar press of dips and curves pressed against each other. She rests her cheek against his chest, hands coming up to grab onto his back.

"I'm alright, Simon." She whispers. "We're both okay."

His grip tightening around her like it usually does is the only answer she needs, the press of his lips onto her head through his mask making her sigh contentedly.

This.

This was more than okay.

Requests Are Open!

(03/07/2023)

[barcaatthemoon]

faint || lucy bronze x reader ||

you push yourself a little too hard before a big match.

all you had wanted was the opportunity to start in a big game. jonatan had played you as a starter in a few smaller matches, ones that he knew the team could handle with ease. with a few injuries, a spot had opened up that you knew you could fill. and so, you had begun coming in for extra training throughout the weeks leading up to jonatan picking his squad.

everybody had noticed the extra work you were putting in, but they didn't seem to realize the cost it had come at. lucy had been a little in her own head, so you couldn't blame her. besides, it wasn't like the two of you had reached the point in your relationship where you spent every single day together.

"are you ready?" you glanced up to see ingrid standing in front of you. the two of you had become fast friends when you joined barcelona. she had been a big part of you and lucy managing to get your shit together long enough to go on a few dates.

"i don't know if i'm ready, but i want this so badly. don't tell lucy, but i don't think i've wanted anything like this in a long time," you admitted. ingrid laughed, knowing that they weren't the same type of situation, but lucy would have definitely taken it as such. for as stoic as she liked to come off, you had learned firsthand how gentle lucy truly was.

once you were on the pitch, you tried your hardest to let go of your nerves. there was definitely still something off, but you were fairly certain that it wasn't nerves. you played better than you had in a long time, hopeful that a good showing today would lead to more starts for your club. you could feel your benchwarming days slipping away as you passed the ball to one of your teammates for an assist quickly followed by a goal of your own.

at the half, you felt utterly exhausted. your endurance was generally better than that. you tried your best to hide it as everybody went back out for the last 45 of the game. you didn't try moving around as much as you had before, but you still tried your best. many of your teammates were all sending you concerned looks, including lucy.

"hey, are you okay?" lucy asked as she noticed you swaying on your feet a little. it was a corner kick, and you were usually great at clearing these. you jumped up to head the ball away from your goal, and instead of landing on your feet like you usually did, you went straight to the ground. ingrid and lucy were on your sides instantly to check on you, only to see that you were unconscious.

"what happened? did she hit her head?" ingrid asked the surrounding players. nobody had any sort of real answer for it, which was only causing lucy to panic even more. she had never seen anyone go down like that, not without cause.

"luce," you said weakly. she looked down at you at the first sign of you waking up again.

"what is it love?" lucy asked softly. she brushed her hand over your head as she cradled it in her arms.

"can you move a little? your boot is hurting me," you chuckled lightly. lucy immediately shifted around a bit so that you were more comfortable. despite your claims that you were fine, everybody was insistent that you sub out and go down to the trainer's to rest. they made you lay down and take sips from an electrolyte drink. you were supposed to have taken a bit of a nap, but you couldn't sleep wondering whether or not the game was going well without you.

you wanted to go to the bench at the very least, but the trainers kept you in the cool, air conditioned room. it wasn't until some of the color had returned to your face and you were truly speaking clearly that they let you go back to the locker room. you had a late start showering and changing, but lucy was more than happy to wait for you. she had been ready to go whenever you initially walked in, but she was still standing there when you came out to get your things.

"can i carry your bag for you?" lucy asked. she was a great girlfriend, but she had never asked to carry your bag before. a part of you felt like you were a teenager in school again with your old boyfriend, but lucy was a trillion times better than he could ever be.

"you don't even like carrying your own bag most of the time," you teased. the small smile on lucy's face fell to be briefly replaced by a small pout. you handed your bag over for her to take before you took her free hand. "it means a lot that you're here for me."

"i'd be a pretty shit girlfriend if i wasn't," lucy pointed out. still, you knew that she wasn't just doing it because she felt like she had to.

"you've come a long way from who you were when we started seeing each other. i'm proud of you, luce," you told her. lucy blushed and tried to turn away from you, but there wasn't anywhere for her to go. you pressed a kiss to her cheek, deciding to leave things there for the time being. you could get sappy and make her blush later whenever she was trying to take care of you at her place.

[urfavoritegirlkisser]

ooh for hazel maybe a fic where hazel is fully oblivious to the fact that reader likes her and misses their very obvious flirting until someone makes a joke about the two of them

idk i feel like that’s something she would do lmao

Oh for sure, she is definitely very oblivious when it comes to someone flirting with her

Tags: Fem!Reader, Hazel is so oblivious, swearing, a smidge of angst and insecure!reader, use of y/n, slightly suggestive at the end but it's no big deal honestly, lightly proof read, girls kissing (giggling and kicking my feet)

"Friends Don't Look At Friends That Way" - Hazel Callahan x Reader

“Maybe we could go hang out at your place? You could help me study for Mr.G’s final” You say, lightly grazing your fingertips on Hazel’s arm while batting your eyelashes up at her.

“Didn’t he literally give us the test answers as a study guide?” Hazel says, oblivious to your flirtation as always.

This was the billionth time it feels like that Hazel has shut you down, and honestly, you’re sick of it.

You decide to try a different tactic, gently grabbing her hand and admiring her rings, “I just love your rings” you rub your thumb across them and let your other hand rest on her thigh.

“Thanks! Most of them were gifts from friends, and this one was from a cool thrift shop downtown” Hazel rambles on while you sigh as she continues to ignore your obvious attempts at flirting with her.

You genuinely thought all hope was lost…until you heard PJ shout from across the gym.

“Jesus! Get a room you two, have some decency for the rest of us and go fuck in the janitor’s closet!” the girl shouts and your face heats up as a deep blush settles over your cheeks

Hazel scoffs, “What? We’re just friends PJ, don’t be a loser” she says while laughing nervously.

It took all of your willpower not to crumble right then and there.

You’ve had enough of this, you weren’t going to put in all this effort for someone who just sees you as a friend. Sniffling as tears start to form in your eyes from embarrassment, you quickly excuse yourself and practically run out of the gymnasium.

Your feet carry you to an abandoned classroom, where you let yourself finally let out the sobs you were holding in. Of course Hazel didn’t feel the same, why would she? She was amazing in every way and you were just some loser.

You’re so consumed in your thoughts that you don’t hear the door crack open and Hazel slowly walk inside.

“Y/n? Are you alright?” she says in a near whisper, but it still makes you jump and quickly look up at Hazel while wiping your tears.

“Hazel, what are you doing here? The club meeting is about to start, you know how PJ is with people being late” you try to speak in a confident voice, but it comes out shaky and thick from the lump of emotions in your throat and you look away from her so she can’t see your tears.

Hazel shakes her head and sits down beside you, “You’re more important than a stupid meeting” she says softly, “Josie told me about your feelings for me”

You groan at her words and put your head on your knees, looking back at her with a sniffle, “I’m so sorry Hazel, I get it if you don’t feel the same way and I won’t blame you-” your words are cut off by Hazel grabbing your face and hurriedly pressing her lips to yours in a bruising kiss.

You shriek in surprise at first, but quickly kiss back, shuddering as you feel her tongue enter your mouth.

Hazel pulls you onto her lap, your fingers threading into her soft hair as her hands rest on your hips. You both pull away after a moment, pupils blown, breaths heavy as the both of you just stare at each other for a moment.

Hazel is the first to speak up, “I’ve actually wanted to do that since the first time I saw you” she says breathlessly while moving a hand up to cradle your jaw and gently stroke your face with her thumb, “You are so beautiful y/n, I would be lucky to be able to call you mine” she says with a smile that makes your heart melt

“And I’m sorry for being such an idiot” she quickly adds which makes you laugh

You kiss her softly, pulling away just enough so your foreheads touch and you can just live in this tiny moment the both of you have created.

“As long as I can call you my idiot, then that’s all that matters” you say before the both of you dissolve into giggles.

an - meant to post more today, but got hit with a wicked migraine, so I hoped you enjoyed. Go drink water you girl kissers.

[everscorner]

Something In The Way You Move

Author’s note: I hope you enjoy reading my first ever one-shot. I got the idea for this after listening to the Ellie Goulding song with the same title. I’m not exactly sure how I would categorise this fanfic, but that’s alright. This is only for fictional purposes only, and please don’t copy my work without my permission. Enjoy 🤎

Warnings: bad language, toxic relationship, flirty men at the bar, mentions of bruises, cheating, implied smut, fluff, angst, relationship issues, minors DNI (let me know if I missed anything)

famous!Reader x Jude Bellingham Word count: 8k words

///

‘“Y/N Y/L/N is the most famous woman in football.”’ Winnie dramatically turns towards you, eyes comically wide, her grip firm on the copy of the British Vogue magazine in her grasp. ‘Bestie, did you hear that? According to this article, you’re the most famous woman in football.’

You chuckle. ‘Yeah, apparently I am.’

‘How are you so calm right now?’

You’re anything but calm, you’ve just mastered the art of concealing your emotions—it’s a skill you developed shortly after meeting Jude. ‘I don’t know. I guess it’s the shock, it still hasn’t sunk in yet.’ 

‘It’s definitely the shock, not that I blame you,’ her eyes flit back to the article. ‘This is insane.’

‘In a good way, I hope.’ 

‘Very good way.’ You watch as she takes in the words of the article. ‘Girl, you’re in Vogue. Like, on the cover! They, like, wrote a whole article about you.’

‘God, sometimes I forget how dramatic you can be, Wins.’ 

Her theatrics are what first drew you to her. Never in your life had you come across someone like Winnie, and now you consider her one of your best friends. The two of you met at a fashion show a year ago, and well, the rest is history. . . 

‘Dramatic? How is this dramatic? This is a big deal, Y/N,’ she shuts the magazine, using her fingers as a makeshift bookmark to save her spot, then sits it on her lap. ‘When you told me you were doing a shoot for Vogue, I didn’t think you meant a cover shoot. Why didn’t you tell me?’ 

Because the whole thing was surreal, ‘cause I didn’t actually think they’d put me on the cover, the thoughts go through your mind.

‘I guess it slipped my mind,’ you state nonchalantly because that sounds better than the self-deprecating thoughts. 

Your cool exterior makes you seem indifferent about the whole thing, but you truly are flattered and overwhelmed. Never in a million years did you think you’d be on the cover of Vogue, and yet here you are. 

‘“I guess it slipped my mind,”’ she mocks with a hearty laugh. ‘Seriously though, I’m so proud of you. And if we weren’t sitting in this car right now, I’d give you the biggest hug.’ 

‘Thank you, Wins, and I know you would.’

You’re in the back of a black Mercedes Sprinter, there is a Netflix crew with their cameras filming you, and you’re being driven to Wembley Stadium where you will watch your boyfriend’s team play a Champions League final. 

The cameras are there because you’re in the midst of shooting an episode for season one of your yet to be named Netflix reality show. It’s been a month of filming scenes with the crew, but you still feel self-conscious having such intimate conversations with cameras present.

Who’s idea was it to give you a Netflix show anyway?

‘Shall I read it to you, then?’

‘Uh, no. No no no.’  

‘Oh, come on. Why not?’

You squirm in your seat and feel your face heat up, ‘Uh, I don’t know, ‘cause it’s awkward.’

It was a hundred percent your idea to stop at the shops to have yourself filmed buying the magazine, you know, for content for the show, but now it feels so silly, almost like you were bragging or something. To have Winnie read the article to you will only make the embarrassed feeling worse. 

‘Why is it awkward?’

You discreetly point a finger towards the camera. 

‘The cameras?’

‘Shh!’ you want the seats to part and swallow you up. ‘What’s wrong with you?’

‘But this will make great content for the show.’

‘Oh god.’

Winnie laughs hard, she’s clearly entertained by all that is happening. ‘Are you shy?’

‘You know this about me.’ 

She laughs harder. 

‘I’m glad you’re enjoying this.’ 

Not to be that person, but Winnie doesn’t get it. You can almost predict how the internet at large will react to the footage, should Netflix decide to use it for the show. It’s not beneath the world, namely those wretched online gossip rags, to paint you as some self-involved individual who makes her friends read magazine articles that praise her successes. 

Hell, just this morning you made the mistake of reading the comments of a MailOnline article about your recent night out in Madrid. You had been out for dinner with your manager and his wife, and it was your standard MailOnline article—though they were uncharacteristically nice to you—nothing out of the ordinary, so you felt it was safe to venture into the comments. 

Big mistake, and it’s safe to say that in future, you’ll steer clear of the comments section of anything. 

‘Last chance, are you sure you don’t want me to read it?’

‘I’m begging you not to.’

‘Very well,’ she lifts the magazine back up from her lap, her finger bookmark helping her open to the exact page of the article. ‘I’ll just read it for myself.’

‘Let me know if it’s any good.’

She scoffs, ‘Whatever.’ 

With a wry wink, you blindly reach for your phone that’s seated comfortably on your lap and open the Instagram app to update your story. The hope is that this will distract you from your fretful thoughts. 

Again, on the exterior, you’re as cool as a cucumber, but inside, you’re tightly wound. It sounds like an exaggeration, but so much is counting on Real Madrid winning tonight’s match, so you’re praying for their triumph. 

Will it fix the many issues that riddle your life? No, but a win could mean a less tense Jude, and it could take him out of the foetid mood he’s been in lately.

To be fair, the moodiness is not only exclusive to Jude, but you know.  

‘Gosh, I really hope they win tonight.’

The words slip out your mouth before you can stop them.

‘Huh?’

‘Real Madrid,’ you turn to Winnie, who’s engrossed in the words on the page, ‘I really hope they win tonight.’

She looks up from the magazine, and with a kind smile assures you, ‘Don’t worry, they will.’

She’s so optimistic, so sure, and that’s the attitude you will carry with you through this final.

///

It wasn’t easy, but in the end they came together as a team, and Real Madrid won the Champions League. 

The hours that followed the victory were nothing short of chaotic. First there was the team’s celebration on the field, where they received their trophy and medals. Of all the events of the day,  that’s the bit you hated the most. So much was happening all at once, which overwhelmed you and made you unpleasant, and of course, that led to an argument between you and Jude. 

///

A couple hours earlier. 

‘What the actual fuck is wrong with you?’

And more importantly, what the fuck is wrong with you for still putting up with Jude’s shit? You don’t even know how it got to this point. One minute you were teasing each other and making light conversation on the bed of your hotel suite, and the next you were bickering. But that’s how it is with you and Jude lately, there’s no middle ground. 

‘What the fuck is wrong with me?’ he challenges. 

‘Yeah, did I stutter? What the fuck is wrong with you?’ you press, refusing to back down. Usually, he can intimidate you into submission with a harsh look and tone, but not tonight. ‘Seriously, Jude, you’re not even fun to be around anymore.’ 

‘That’s rich coming from you,’ he spits back. 

‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’

‘As if you don’t know.’

‘I wouldn’t be asking you if I did, would I?’ 

The fucking prick, and if it were any other day, you’d tell him that he’s a prick, but that would only prolong the fight, and you both still have to get ready for dinner in an hour. 

‘Why are we even having this argument?’

‘You tell me, you started it,’ he throws the accusation so carelessly. 

‘How is any of this my fault?’

‘You’re so childish all the time,’ he answers without faltering, ‘always acting up in front of a crowd.’

‘You bastard!’

‘Then when I call you out for it, you start hurling insults at me,’ he finishes, a smug expression on his face. 

You hate it when he gets this way, so vindictive and purposeful in his aim to hurt you. ‘You’re such a fucking prick!’

‘Case in point. . .’ 

And you think you might cry, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you teary over him. 

‘That’s it, I don’t want to go anywhere with you tonight,’ you announce after a stretched silence. 

‘Like hell you’re not.’

Your eyebrows come together in a frown so deep, it’s sure to leave lines in its wake. ‘You can’t force me to go with you.’

‘Stop it.’

‘Stop what?’

‘Stop being childish.’

‘How am I being childish?’ With an incredulous scoff, you tell him, ‘You know, there’s something seriously wrong with you. I think that you need to get your head checked.’ 

‘What?’

‘You’re. Insane. There’s something wrong with you, in your head.’ There’s nothing normal about his recent behaviour. ‘If you think I’m going out with you tonight after you’ve disrespected me, you’ve got something–’

‘We’re not doing this shit.’

‘“This shit”? What does that even mean?’

‘I’m not doing this shit with you. What’s this even about?’

‘It’s about you not respecting me.’

‘That’s bullshit, and you know it’s bullshit,’ he responds dismissively. ‘What have I said or done to disrespect you? I only asked why you were frowning on the field.’

‘And I told you that I wasn’t.’

‘You forget that you’re a bad liar.’

‘I am not lying!’ 

‘Keep your fucking voice down!’ he yells right back at you, and his voice is like a whip. 

That’s when the tears spring to your eyes. You know you said you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry, but it’s all too much. 

‘Oh, don’t cry.’

‘How can I not when you’re being so cruel?’

Jude’s livid now, nostrils flaring livid. You should shut up, but you can’t stop the words from spilling out of your mouth. It’s like a tap that won’t shut. 

‘And, it’s like,’ sniff, sniff ‘like you enjoy seeing me upset. And I just feel like everything I do sets you off lately, and I don’t know what to do anymore.’ 

The tears are freely falling now, and you don’t bother to wipe them away. You want him to feel guilty for the way he spoke to you. 

‘Why do you hate me so much?’

‘Baby, I don’t hate you. How could you even ask that?’

When he reaches out to take your hand, you move it away from him. ‘Don’t.’

‘I’m trying to bridge the gap. I’m trying to comfort you.’

‘I don’t need your comfort,’ you sound so sad, and maybe that’s because you are really sad. 

You can’t believe the current state of your relationship, and you can’t, for the life of you, understand how it got to this point. You and Jude loved each other, you still love each other. . . Well, you still love him, you’re not so sure of his feelings. 

‘And can we drop this, please? I promise I’m not trying to get out of talking about it, but’ sniff ‘just for now, until after dinner.’

/// 

So you both agreed to a temporary truce, but things are still awkward between you. For example, the ride to the restaurant was silent, Jude barely acknowledged you at dinner, and now he’s somewhere in the restaurant socialising, and you’ve been left to your own devices. 

It’s not all bad though, because you’re not completely alone, you have the other WAGs to keep you company. 

‘How’s your cocktail?’

You wish Winnie had come though, she would make it better, more bearable. You tried to beg and bribe, desperate for her to meet you here, but she’s stubborn and she wasn’t in the mood. ‘A night wasted with cunty football WAGs? I don’t think so.’ Her words, not yours. 

‘Good. It’s a bit too sweet for my liking though.’

‘Same,’ Coralie chuckles. 

You’re jonesing for something stronger, a shot of something, but you’re already tipsy after opting out of dinner—your excuse was that you weren’t feeling well—so rather you stick to the sugary beverage. 

The group of you are at some swanky restaurant in Mayfair, and you’re doing your best to be sociable, but it’s hard to do when all you want to do is burst out crying. 

‘How do you plan on celebrating tonight?’

You shrug your shoulders, ‘I thought this was the celebration.’

‘With the team, yes, but how do you plan to celebrate with Jude?’

‘He has to be up early tomorrow morning.’ 

Coralie rolls her eyes.

‘You don’t like that answer?’

‘It’s boring, is all.’ 

And because you don’t know how to respond to that, you take a sip of your cocktail. 

‘You look tired,’ she continues.

You guess she just wants to fill the silence?

More like over it. It turns out, you’re not so great at concealing your emotions. ‘Exhausted. It’s been a long day.’

‘Filming a reality show is exhausting, huh?’ Coralie chaffs. She leans in towards you, probably to prevent someone from eavesdropping on your conversation. ‘I need all the details.’

Coralie’s sudden shift in topic catches you off guard. This whole exchange is not really going the way you want it to go, but you’re playing along because you really don’t want to sit alone. 

‘Uh, the details?’

‘All of it.’ 

Unlike everyone else at this table, Coralie isn’t a WAG. She’s employed by the team, and her job’s to be sort of an assistant to the players. When you moved to Spain at the start of the season, Coralie was actually one of the first people you were introduced to, and she was instrumental in helping you and Jude find your apartment. 

 ‘Where to start?’ When you draw a blank, you inquire, ‘What do you want to know?’

‘Hm, how did the opportunity come about?’ she turns in her seat so she’s fully facing you now. ‘How long have you been filming? What is the show about? I want to know it all.’ 

The reality show is the last thing you want to be talking about, but fuck it. You’ve been internally spiralling all night thinking about your fight with Jude, and this will give you something else to focus on for a bit. Without giving too much away, you skim over your agreement with the streaming platform, how they approached you with the offer, and the basic premise of the show. 

‘And it’s not weird for you to have the cameras following you around?’

‘I mean’ you finish the remainder of your cocktail and place the glass back onto the table ‘it’s not like we’re filming every day. There’s, like, a schedule.’

‘And how does that work?’

You do your best to explain the schedule and how it’s set up, but you’re past the point of tipsy, slightly over it, and quite frankly, you want the conversation to be over. 

Truth be told, you still can’t believe that someone at Netflix looked at you and your life and thought you were interesting enough to give a reality show to. Not that you’re complaining, the exposure and paycheque totally make it worth it. 

‘And how does Jude feel about it?’

Coralie’s question comes as no surprise. She’s got this little crush on Jude, but it’s harmless, endearing even. 

‘I don’t know.’

‘He doesn’t talk about it?’

‘I mean, we have talked about it, just not in great detail.’ You can hear the defensiveness in your tone. ‘We don’t talk much about work.’

‘But this affects him,’ she presses on, clearly not satisfied with your response. ‘Or will he not be on the show?’ 

‘He will be.’

You’re not entirely sure where she’s going with these questions.

‘He just doesn’t have an opinion on it?’

‘Well, I don’t know. Maybe you should ask him.’

Of course this is a lie. After your manager had reached out to you about the offer, Jude was the first person you called because you value his opinion. 

You weren’t sure you could commit to filming six episodes for the season, and you felt like having the crew and cameras around would feel like an invasion of your personal space. 

Jude felt differently and was encouraging.

‘This could be good for your career,’ he had advised. 

He’s even filmed some scenes for the show. 

‘So you’re like Kim Kardashian now,’ Coralie teases. 

‘Jude said the same thing,’ you smile at the memory. 

‘Well, I’ve got an idea for the finale.’

You cock your head to one side, ‘You do?’ 

She nods, a wide smile taking over her beautiful face, ‘I do. Picture this: you’re on vacation, I’ll let you pick the location, and Jude proposes to you.’ 

Oh you’re not drunk enough for this. And the crazy part is that she seems so delighted with herself—proud even. 

‘What do you think?’

‘No.’ 

‘What? Why?’ 

‘No, absolutely not.’ You feel yourself getting worked up. You’re so moody these days, and it’s not hormonal.

‘At least think about it.’

‘Coralie, no.’ 

‘Okay, okay.’ And you think she might drop it, but she continues to ask, ‘Which part don’t you like?’

All of it. In fact, you don’t want to be having this conversation anymore. But you don’t want to be impolite, so you force a smile as you tell her, ‘Right now, marriage isn’t on the cards for us.’

With her hands held up defensively, Coralie clarifies, ‘It was just a suggestion.’

‘And I appreciate it.’ 

Well, this is a shitfest. Winnie, Winnie, Winnie, you think, I should’ve pushed harder. 

There’s no use in dwelling on the fact, and there’s no use in staying at this table. But if you leave abruptly, Coralie might take it the wrong way. 

‘I need a refill, want to come?’

She points to her still full cocktail glass, ‘I’m still good.’

‘Okie-dokie,’ you raise off of your chair. ‘I’ll see you in a bit.’

Coralie’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes, it seems the annoyance is mutual. You just wish the night was over and you were back at the suite. Part of you wishes you’d bump into Jude, not because you have anything to say to him, but you sort of miss his face. 

‘Get a grip,’ you mumble to yourself as you manoeuvre through the tables. 

You’re miserable, more than usual, and it’s affecting the way you’re interacting with people. Already Coralie thinks you’re a bitch. She didn’t say anything to you, but she didn’t have to, it was written all over her face. And on a different day, the guilt would gnaw at you, but tonight you can’t bring yourself to care. 

‘A vodka tonic, please.’

At least your manners are still intact. 

‘More vodka than tonic.’ 

So you’ll drink in hopes that it will help the time pass quicker, and maybe if he sees your tragic state, Jude might let you go back to the hotel. After tearing into you, of course. 

As if the sadistic fuck would let me leave. 

Knowing Jude, he’d force you to stay but he’d be pissed at the fact that you weren’t on your best behaviour. 

The last time, he called you ‘inconsiderate’. And maybe it’s true, maybe you are ‘inconsiderate’, but he’s no better. Hell, he’s worse, but you can never tell him that. In his heart and in his mind, he is a saint—you just bring out the worst in him. 

‘Thanks.’ 

The tumbler is cold in your hand as you raise it to take the first sip. You wince at the bitter taste of vodka, but it’s just what you need, and you feel some of the tension leave your body. You think you might stay here a while. 

It’s peaceful at the bar. There’s no Coralie and her unsolicited suggestions, there’s no sulking Jude. . . though you’d much rather have him sulking at you than the cold shoulder, at least then he’s showing some emotion. 

‘Penny for your thoughts?’

But then there are the men who think it’s okay to approach you. 

‘I’m John, by the way.’ 

John flashes you a bright smile, and you can’t help but notice his super white and super perfect set of teeth. 

‘John, cool.’

‘And you are?’

Bored. Annoyed. Over this interaction. ‘Do I have to tell you?’

‘It’d be nice, yes.’ He then looks at you, really looks at you, then very thoughtfully, he says, ‘You know, you look familiar.’ 

‘I do?’

‘Yeah, I feel like I know you. . . or I’ve seen you somewhere.’

‘You don’t know me.’

‘No, I think I do,’ he waves for the barman’s attention. ‘I think you’re famous.’

‘Well, you’re wrong.’ 

When the barman comes over, John orders himself a scotch. ‘You know, you still haven’t told me your name.’ 

And so, despite your better judgement, you tell him which sparks a conversation. Of course, he’s a ‘finance bro’—his overconfidence is a dead giveaway—and he’s at the restaurant for his uni pal’s bachelor party. There’s a group of them. 

Without being too obvious, your eyes look down at his left hand, which is conveniently hidden away. Your guess is that John’s got a wife at home, and he’s been allowed out for the night, begrudgingly, of course, so he’s trying his luck with you. 

‘Well, since it’s a bachelor party, shouldn’t you be at a gentlemen’s club?’

He shakes his head, ‘Isaac’s not into that.’

‘Isaac is the groom, then?’

‘Yeah.’ 

‘Well, I’m sure Isaac and your friends are missing you, John,’ you raise your glass to your lips. ‘But thanks for the chat.’ 

Your dismissive tone only spurs him on, you literally see his eyes light up. Clearly, he sees you as a challenge, something to conquer. ‘How about you? Are you here alone, with friends?’

You polish off the remainder of your drink, ‘Something like that.’

‘That’s all you have to say?’

‘Well, I–’ Your body tenses when you feel a strong arm snake around your waist, but it immediately relaxes when you smell the all too familiar scent of Jude’s cologne. 

‘I’ve been looking all over for you,’ he says, strategically wedging himself between you and John, his back turned to him. ‘Hi.’

Jude leans over to take your lips in a deep kiss, you know, the kind that you feel deep in your core. God, you love this man.

‘Hi.’ 

You don’t have to force a smile, because you’re genuinely pleased to see him, and at first you can’t read his expression as his perfect brown eyes search your own, but then he smiles, really smiles, which causes you to relax. 

‘Vodka tonic?’ you offer.

‘No,’ he leans over to kiss you again, this time it’s on your forehead. ‘Is that what you’re having?’

‘Yeah,’ you raise a hand to wave the barman over. 

‘What are you doing?’

‘Ordering myself another drink.’

‘No, you’re not.’ 

The tone of his voice is one you know all too well. You know not to push him, you don’t want to push him, ‘cause things between you are actually good.

‘I’m not?’ your tone is teasing.

‘No, you’re not. Come.’ 

Before you can question where he’s taking you, he leads you away from the bar, and you don’t even get the chance to say goodbye to John. 

‘Jude, that’s rude,’ you tell him, suppressing the urge to smile. ‘And where are you taking me?’

‘Back to the hotel.’

Finally, ‘The hotel?’ 

‘Yeah, we’ve had enough socialising for the night.’ 

///

You release a content sigh. ‘You know,’ you start nonchalantly as you leisurely stretch your limbs and flex your toes, ‘I should flirt with random guys at the bar more often.’

Keeping your hands off of each other on the car ride back to the hotel proved quite the struggle. Jude’s earlier possessiveness had you putty in his hands, and his actions, paired with the alcohol in your system, had you ready to jump his bones. 

‘Don’t you dare,’ he playfully admonishes. ‘Don’t even think about it.’

‘I might be inclined to, I like it when you get like that.’

‘Like how?’

‘Possessive and all that,’ your heart swells with pride at the memory of Jude moving you away from John.

‘Oh god.’

You burst into fits of obnoxious giggles when he buries his face in the crook of your neck and starts kissing the area. 

You and Jude had managed to behave yourself in the car and on the elevator ride up to your floor, but the moment you stepped into your suite, he took your wrist into his large hand and tugged you into him. Without a word, he pushed you up against the wall of the dark entrance hall, and took your lips in an impassioned kiss. 

‘Jude, stop!’ you screech. 

‘Promise you won’t flirt with random men.’

‘No!’ 

The kisses intensify, his beard tickling the sensitive skin. 

‘I swear I’ll scream,’ you actually can’t breathe, and your stomach hurts like you’ve been doing crunches. ‘Babe, please!’

‘Promise me.’

‘Okay, okay! I promise,’ you relent. 

And so he stops. 

‘If we get a noise complaint. . .’ 

‘Who cares?’ Jude rolls back to his previous position on the bed, his back pressed against the mattress, his toned torso exposed. 

Instinctively, you follow him, curling into his side, craving the connection. ‘You don’t care?’

He shakes his head, ‘No, do you?’

‘I guess I don’t.’ All you care about is the fact that things between you and Jude are good again, and all is right in your world. ‘I’m hungry.’

‘You are?’

‘Ravenous.’ On cue, your stomach starts to grumble. ‘I’m thinking of having a burger and–’

‘What’s this?’ Jude’s hand moves down to your left hip bone, and his index finger lightly traces over the bruise that’s starting to form. ‘You’re hurt.’

The forming bruise is the result of you being pressed against the entry table as Jude fucked you. 

‘Oh that?’ you weave your fingers with his to stop their tracing motion. ‘Don’t worry about that, I honestly don’t mind it.’ But when his eyes remain fixed on the spot, you insist, ‘Babe, please don’t make a big deal of it. It was good.’

Like, really good. So good, Jude had to put his hand over your mouth just to stop the wanton moans that were spilling profusely from your lips. 

The heat creeps to your cheeks at the very welcomed memory. ‘And by the way, don’t act like you’re not pleased with yourself.’

He doesn’t try to deny it, he simply laughs. 

‘Exactly,’ you rest your head on his chest and focus on the calming steady beat of his heart. You wish you could stay like this with him forever, and abandon all your responsibilities.

‘I love you.’

Jude’s admission catches you off guard. It’s not his first time saying those words to you, he’s said them countless times in the past, but there’s something about the way he says them now. . . it’s so heartfelt. 

‘And look, I know I’ve been a jerk these past few months,’ he continues before you can say anything, ‘but starting tonight, I promise to be better.’

His words, so vulnerable and pure, leave you stunned.

You blink away the tears that are starting to collect in your eyes, ‘Jude. . .’

‘You don’t have to say anything.’

You drape your arm over his torso, and release a shaky breath. ‘I love you too.’

There’s so much you want to add to that, but you don’t trust yourself to not break down in tears. Recently, your relationship has been put through the wringer, and you admit that you’ve still got a long way to go in terms of repairing it, but this moment is proof that it’s still salvageable. 

After a long and comfortable silence, Jude asks, ‘You still hungry?’

‘Mmm.’

‘Here,’ he hands you the in-room dining menu.

You thank him and start scanning the menu’s offerings. ‘The skinny fries sound good.’

‘I thought you said you were ravenous.’

‘Hold on, I’m not done.’ 

Five minutes later, your main and a side with dessert, were on their way. 

‘And now we shower.’ 

You let out an obnoxious groan. 

‘What?’

‘I don’t want to move from here.’

Jude laughs, ‘Sure you do. Come on, Lazybum.’

‘Lazybum?’

He laughs some more. ‘Yeah, Lazybum. Let’s go.’

Nothing against the shower or anything, but you’re worn out and are too hungry to move. ‘Five more minutes.’

‘No, let’s go.’

You raise your head off his chest, and your eyes lock with his, ‘I can’t persuade you to stay in bed longer?’

‘No, not really.’

‘Oh, babe,’ you whine, and move to straddle him. ‘You’re no fun.’

‘I’m no fun? What do you mean I’m no. . .’ The words sort of fade from his lips when you start writhing against  him, the only thing separating you is the bedsheet.  ‘Stop that.’

‘Stop what?’ you feign innocence, your hip gyrations not ceasing. 

‘What you’re doing right now,’ his hands move to your hips to stop their subtle winding motion. ‘It’s distracting.’

You sigh. 

‘And stop pouting.’

‘Make me.’ 

Jude’s eyes light up at your testy attitude. Then he sits up, and with his hands on either side of your face, he pulls you in for a peck. ‘Behave.’ 

‘Yeah, but babe, I–’

‘Hey,’ swiftly and smoothly, his hand grabs a hold of your wrist and starts massaging the spot just past your palm, and he maintains eye contact when he tells you, ‘We’ll shower, then we can lay in bed after.’

‘Okay.’ 

‘Okay?’

You nod, ‘Yeah, okay.’

Your cooperation earns you a second peck.

‘But babe, can we watch a movie after? My choice.’

Despite having to be up early tomorrow to fly back to Madrid, Jude agrees. A post-midnight dinner with a movie and cuddles from Jude, you like the sound of that. You can’t help but stare at Jude’s pert ass when he gets out of the bed—the guy’s got a hot body. 

‘You like what you see?’

You flush, but make no effort to turn away. If he’s going to give you a show, who are you to look away? ‘Shut up.’ 

‘Pervert.’

‘You’re the one slutting yourself out.’

‘Whatever.’

Then with a final kiss, Jude disappears into the bathroom. Some moments pass, and then you hear the shower water run.

You’re scrolling through Netflix’s romance category when you’re interrupted by the incessant buzzing of a phone. Your initial thought is that it’s your manager—who never seems to sleep—calling about a new work opportunity, but when you grab the vibrating device, you discover that it’s Jude’s phone and not yours. And it’s Coralie calling him. 

You think nothing of the fact that she’s calling Jude at such a late hour. It’s probably something work related that can’t wait till morning, and you’re about to answer the call when the vibrating abruptly stops. That’s when you see the text notification displayed on Jude’s lock screen:

Coralie: I’m drunk and I miss you, call me

Heh? 

Your heart starts hammering against your ribcage and a sick feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. 

What? 

The room starts to spin as you struggle to breathe, and you think you might collapse onto the bed.

Is he. . . Surely he’s not cheating on you. With Coralie? 

‘Babe?’ Jude's voice calls from the bathroom, startling you and causing you to almost drop his phone. 

‘I’m coming,’ you absentmindedly respond back. 

‘Hurry.’ 

The cheek, you think as you punch in his phone’s password. 

The phone unlocks and you think what an idiot he must be—a smart cheater would change the password. 

‘Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.’

You have a very limited time window, so you’ve got to move quickly. The adrenaline rush makes your fingers fumbley and shaky, but you somehow manage to open the WhatsApp app. Coralie’s chat is right at the top ‘cause she was the last one to text him.

If you had more time, you’d peruse through his other contacts to see if he’s texting other girls. 

‘Here goes nothing,’ you tell yourself.

Then with a deep inhale through your nose, you psych yourself up one last time for what’s to come when you open the chat, and then you open it.

Before the bit about being drunk and missing Jude—drunk texts? How corny—Coralie had sent another lengthy text complimenting the way he looked at dinner tonight, and explicitly told him what she wanted to do to him in the restaurant’s loo. 

The fucking bitch! 

How dare she? How dare she act friendly with you knowing very well that she was sending dirty texts to your boyfriend behind your back? And the worst part is that you believed the friendly act, believed that she had good intentions.

Rah! 

But there’s no time to get hung up on that, there’s plenty of time to do that later. Moving quickly, you scroll up the chat and stop at a random spot. 

Jude: Y/N’s in Paris, come over?

You recognise the date to be earlier in the year, when you were in Paris for fittings and shoots. He’d called you really late that night, and he’d told you that he loved and missed you, and that he wished you were at the apartment with him. Basically, he’d lied to you because Coralie was warming his bed that night.

Fuck them both! 

The text thread carries on in a similar fashion: Coralie texts Jude saying that she misses him, he texts her when you’re out of town, and sometimes, on special occasions, she’d send a dirty pic. Or if she’s feeling particularly giving, a video. 

Fuck. 

You angrily toss the phone to one side, and try to contemplate your next move, but your mind is all over the place, and you can barely formulate a cohesive thought. 

What now? 

‘I got tired of waiting for you, and got out.’

You were so lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear the shower water shut.

‘Hm?’

‘In the shower, I waited for you.’

You don’t like the way Jude says that statement, the accusation in his tone. 

‘I’m. . .’ what is it that you’re trying to say? ‘Oh.’ 

‘Are you okay?’

Far from it, actually. ‘Hey, are you. . .’ you pause to think about how you want to phrase the question. ‘Are you cheating on me?’

He didn’t expect you to ask him that question, and he seems taken aback by it—shaken even. ‘What?’

But he doesn’t deny it.

‘Are you cheating on me?’ you repeat, enunciating every word. ‘With Coralie. Are you cheating on me with Coralie?’

You watch as his world slowly unravels, and you can see the invisible wheels turning in his head as he cooks up a lie.

‘Well, are you?’

‘What, cheating? What are you on about?’

‘About the messages on your fucking phone, Jude,’ you grab the phone from the bed and throw it at him. It hits his leg and then lands on the floor, right before his feet. The sound it makes leads you to think you might’ve broken it. ‘I’m talking about the fuck dates when I’m out of town, the nudes and videos she sends you. I saw it all.’

‘You went through my fucking phone?’

‘That’s all you have to say? “You went through my fucking phone?”’ you mimic the way he posed that very stupid question. ‘Give me a fucking break, Jude. Yeah, I went through your phone, but you’re deflecting.’

‘I’m not deflecting.’

‘Yeah, you are!’ 

‘Keep your fucking voice down!’

‘Are. You. Cheating?’

It’s insulting at this point. You’d much rather have him lie to you, it would send you over the edge, but this? He keeps deflecting, there’s no flattery, no lame excuses. . . His blatant lack of effort hurts more than the actual cheating, it’s like he doesn’t even care to save your relationship. 

‘Y/N, I’m just trying to de-escalate the situation.’ 

‘De-escalate what, exactly? Jude, I don’t need you to de-escalate anything, what I need from you is the fucking truth!’ And if you could scream at the top of your lungs with no repercussions, you would. ‘When did it start?’

‘When did what start?’

‘Your affair.’ 

‘It’s not an affair.’

As if that fucking matters. ‘You keep deflecting!’

‘I’m not!’ he fiercely defends. ‘I just want you to calm down, okay? I just want us to have a normal conversation.’

‘Well, for me to be calm, you’d need to answer my question.’ When a tear escapes from your eye, you quickly swipe it away with the back of your hand. ‘I mean, I know things have been bad between us’ another tear, another swipe ‘lately, but I can’t believe you’d cheat on me.’

And with Coralie, of all people. 

Jude sighs, and you can’t place his emotion. It’s kind of hard to place when he’s saying absolutely nothing. 

‘Are you just going to stand there?’ 

‘What? Now you’ve got a problem with me standing?’

‘You know that’s not what I mean.’ This is exhausting, he is exhausting. ‘You’re just standing there saying nothing.’

‘You’re not allowing me to speak.’

‘You’re not really saying much, are you? “Calm down” is not going to cut it.’ 

‘Well, you keep jumping down my throat.’

‘Blame shifting? Really?’ You sigh, ‘How do you expect me to be calm when you keep shifting the blame and upsetting me?’

‘This is pointless.’ Jude walks over to the bed and takes his seat at the end of it, his muscular back turned to you, head in his hands. ‘You do this every fucking time.’

The words come out muffled.

‘Do what?’

‘Act irrational. It makes it hard to talk to you.’

So according to Jude, voicing your opinions and concerns makes you ‘inconsiderate’ and ‘irrational’.

‘I’m irrational all the time?’

‘Yes.’ After a frustratingly long silence, he lifts his head from his hands and turns to regard you. ‘Look, Y/N, I’m not going to say I’m sorry, ‘cause I’m sure that’s the last thing you want to hear.’ 

‘So you’re not sorry?’

‘I didn’t say I wasn’t.’ He huffs, ‘I thought it was my turn to speak.’

So you bite your tongue and allow him the space to state his case. 

‘Coralie was. . . a mistake,’ he starts once he’s sure you won’t kick off again. ‘A big mistake and something I regret, and if I could take it all back, I would. There’s no excuse for what I did, and my actions are unforgivable, but baby, I meant what I said earlier when I said I loved you and want to do right by you.’ 

I know I’ve been a jerk these past few months, he’d told you, but starting tonight, I promise to be better.

The revelation of Jude’s affair gives his words a whole new meaning. And to think that for the longest time, you believed that you were the issue in your relationship, that your career picking up and you constantly having to be out of the city was the root of your issues. 

‘We were fighting all the time.’

‘I know.’ 

‘And when I’d take the blame, you’d let me.’

‘And I’m so sorry. I really am so sorry.’ Jude reaches a hand out to you, and you don’t push it away, you let him take your hand into his. ‘It’s something I regret every day.’ 

After a long silence, you have to ask, ‘How did it even start?’

‘Babe, please don’t–’

‘No, I want to know,’ you cut him off. 

He’s apprehensive, but to avoid another argument, he tells you how six months ago, so in December, when you were out of town after a big argument between you, Coralie had come to the apartment to help him with something. For whatever reason, they started drinking wine, and one thing quickly led to another, and the next thing he knew, they were fucking. 

He insists that he felt awful after the act, but that the affair continued because he ‘honestly didn’t have the balls to end it,’ and he feared that Coralie, the woman scorned, would run to tell you about it.

‘And then it sort of got out of hand,’ he continues. ‘Whenever we’d fight or I’d be frustrated with something at work, I’d turn to Coralie.’

‘Why?’

‘‘Cause a lot of the time, you weren’t there.’

So your budding career was part of the issue, your lack of availability led him to turn to Coralie for comfort. 

‘You don’t have a functioning hand?’

With a wry smile, he responds, ‘It’s not the same, and you know it.’

You don’t find the humour in what he’s just said.

‘Too soon?’

‘Way too soon.’

‘Sorry,’ he pulls his lower lip between his teeth, a nervous habit. ‘It wasn’t just the sex, it was the connection.’

‘Connection?’ you pull your hand from his. ‘You act like I’m never home.’

‘Y/N, be honest.’

‘About what?’ You feel yourself getting worked up all over again, ‘Jude, if you’re going to accuse me, at least make it make sense. I make it a point to not be gone for more than three days in a week.’

‘I know, but–’

‘And don’t act like you’re not the one always encouraging me to take all these jobs across the world.’ 

And if you really think about it, in the last six months, he’d been more encouraging than ever of your career. 

‘So don’t give me that connection crap,’ you conclude.

‘Why is your voice raising again?’

‘‘Cause you’re really pissing me off, and you’re shifting all the blame to me.’ 

‘I’m not.’

‘Yes you are!’ tears spring back into your eyes. ‘Just admit that you’re a cheater, and that you lack self-control, and that you’re unprofessional, sleeping with the team’s assistant.’ 

‘Fucking hell. . .’

‘It’s not fair that you’re making this all my fault, and I’m not going to stand around for it.’ 

‘Y/N–’

‘No, Jude!’ 

You’re suddenly interrupted by a light knock sounding at the door. When Jude gets up to fetch your food, you slide off of the bed to take the hotel robe to cover yourself with. You hear him thank the person at the door as you crawl back onto the bed, and moments later, he comes back into the room pushing the room service trolley. 

‘Where do you want me to put this?’

‘I’m not hungry anymore.’ 

Jude doesn’t respond to that, he simply abandons the cart and joins you at the bed, closing the distance between you.

‘Don’t.’

‘“Don’t” what?’

‘Sit close to me.’

‘I’m not touching you.’

‘I know but. . .’ 

How do you tell him that sitting in such close proximity to him clouds your judgement and makes it hard for you to be mad at him? 

‘You know, I could always tell she had a thing for you,’ you sigh as you turn away from him, thinking of all the times Coralie had shown interest in Jude. ‘I always just dismissed it as a harmless crush.’

He doesn’t say anything, but then again, what is there to say? 

‘And, like, tonight, she kept asking me about you.’ In fact, she was very pushy in her inquisition. ‘So curious about the details of our relationship. Our sex life. She used the word boring to describe it.’

‘I swear she means nothing to me.’

‘Does she know that? Does she know she means nothing to you?’ 

‘Yes, of course she does.’

‘I doubt it.’ You turn back to Jude. ‘How are you going to end this?’

‘I don’t know.’ 

‘You don’t know?’

‘Yeah, I don’t.’

This is all a mess. All of it is a big, stinky mess and a scandal like this could be detrimental to both your careers should it come out. 

‘Y/N, I’m really sorry and I regret it.’ There is sincerity in his voice, in his eyes. ‘And if you leave me, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life because you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.’

‘That’s not true.’

‘What’s not true?’

‘That I’m the best thing to ever happen to you.’

If it was true, he wouldn’t have cheated on you with the team’s assistant. 

‘It is though.’

‘Whatever,’ you allow yourself to fall back onto the bed, and with a soft grunt, you say, ‘Well, this is a mess.’ 

‘A big one,’ Jude lies down next to you, and weaves his fingers with yours. 

‘I’m so mad at you.’

‘I know.’

‘In fact, I think I hate you.’ 

His grip on your hand tightens, and you think it might be a pained reflex. ‘I know.’ 

‘And I don’t know if I could ever move on from this.’

‘Please try to.’

You turn your head so that the two of you are lying face to face. ‘So what now?’

‘I don’t know,’ he admits. 

And you’re right there with him. You can’t help but feel like this is the calm before the storm. You wouldn’t put it past Coralie to run to the tabloids to share the story of her affair with Jude just for her 15 minutes of fame. 

But it hurts your head to think about that. 

‘I’m tired.’

‘Me too.’ And on cue, Jude yawns obnoxiously loudly. ‘We should sleep.’

‘Yeah.’ 

So you get under the covers, and try to pretend that your entire world isn’t falling apart. You close your eyes and try to force yourself to sleep, but there’s so much going on in your mind. 

Tomorrow is a new day, and who knows what it will bring you? Jude says he’s sorry, and maybe you’re an idiot, but you actually believe him. And as for Coralie? Well, that’s a subject for another day. 

///

‘I guess I’ll see you when you get back to Madrid.’

It’s the morning after, and when you went to bed last night, you weren’t sure what to expect of your morning exchange, but this isn’t it. Things are somewhat awkward between you, but you’re also being cordial and some version of normal in your interactions, which is nice. 

 ‘Yeah, I guess so.’ 

This morning, Jude joined you for an early breakfast in your suite. During the breakfast, you mostly talked about possible vacation spots for the summer, and revised the previous day’s events. With all the arguments happening, you didn’t really get to celebrate the fact that Jude had won his first UCL. 

‘Are you filming today?’

And now he’s standing across from you, dressed and ready to join the rest of the team down at the hotel’s lobby for their flight back to Madrid. 

‘Yeah, but only later.’ You smile, ‘I can’t believe I agreed to this.’

Jude laughs. ‘My very own Kim Kardashian.’

‘You know me,’ you tease. 

There’s actually something you want to tell him, but now doesn’t seem like the right time to. 

‘Is everything okay?’

His simple question is a reminder that you can never truly hide things from him, he’s just so good at reading you. 

‘I’m all good,’ you assure him. ‘I’m just going to miss you, is all.’

He flashes you a bright smile. ‘It’s only a few hours.’ 

‘I know.’ You walk into him, right into his tall and strong frame, and wrap your arms around his muscular torso. ‘I’m, like, really going to miss you.’

‘Why does it feel like you’re saying goodbye to me right now.’

You chuckle. ‘I’m not. I promise you I’m not.’

‘Okay,’ he presses a kiss to the top of your head. ‘Okay.’ 

You don’t immediately release him, you’re not ready to, but he’s got to go—duty calls. 

‘Text me when you land.’

‘Yeah.’ 

With a kiss to the lips, and an ‘I love you’ murmured against them, he’s gone. 

///

An hour later.

The timer you have set starts going off. 

Your heart is hammering against your chest as you reach for the Clearblue home pregnancy test. After Jude had left, you had called the hotel’s front desk to request a pregnancy test, if they had one. Within 15 minutes, there was a woman at your door to deliver it. 

With a shaking hand, you reach for the plastic stick. 

‘Holy fucking. . .’ 

You can’t believe your eyes. 

‘I’m pregnant.’ 

///

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

[thetriumphantpanda]

where have all the good men gone? | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Three

Chapter Summary | A date, supposed to get your mind of Javier, goes terribly, and he's the only person you can think to call that will make anything better.

Chapter Warnings | Mutual pining, slow burn, sexual tension, flirting, alcohol consumption, protective!Javi, misogynistic comments (not from Javi), (1) man being a pushy douchebag (also not Javi), swearing, mentions of the drug trade - nothing else I can think of.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3k

Authors Note | I am truly having the most fun with these two and I hope you're enjoying their story so far! Things are definitely going to be heating up soon, so please hang in there, it'll be spectacular when they finally do get spicy with each other! If you're enjoying this then comments, asks and reblogs are my lifeblood and if you'd like to support me further, please consider a donation to my  Ko-Fi.

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

“I promise he’s good fun,” Liv’s voice speaks through the phone, cradled to your ear by your shoulder as you skim through your wardrobe, “Nice, and age appropriate.” She teases. 

“Shut up,” You grumble, still annoyed that you’ve allowed her to talk you into this at all, “This is still a terrible idea.” 

“You were the one complaining about Javier Peña being a bad idea,” She defends herself, “And you also could have said no, too late now.” 

You sigh because she’s right. You’ve been trying for the past week to convince yourself that finding someone else might make wanting Javier go away, even just a little bit. Someone your age, not entangled in your family dynamics, or at least you’re hoping anyway. Liv had suggested someone she knew from work, a nice boy, two years older than you, his head screwed on, a managerial position at work. Sensible. 

“I have no idea what to wear.” You groan down the phone, there are plenty of dresses you could choose, but somehow, it feels like this person you don’t know doesn’t deserve that of you. 

“Put those jeans on,” Liv speaks, crunching coming down the phone line, clearly she’s snacking like she always does, “The tight ones, makes your ass look phenomenal, and the lowest cut top you own.” 

“Liv,” You chastise, “I’ve never met him before, I’m not fucking him tonight.��� 

“I didn’t suggest you did,” She chuckles, “Just give him a taste of what’s to come.” 

“Unbelievable,” You mutter, but follow her advice anyway, pulling out a shirt that cuts low, scooping out your jeans from the drawer, “Right, I gotta go and get ready, but if this is awful, you’re entirely to blame, okay?” 

“Hearing you loud and clear girl,” She chuckles, “Have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

“Goodbye!” You chuckle, hanging up. 

It’s still light out, so you opt to walk to the bar in town. It’s not all that far, and the air has cooled enough by the time you leave that it doesn’t feel too stiflingly hot. The bar is not one you would have chosen, one of the more upmarket establishments in town. You wish you could go back to your normal dive bar, with its slightly sticky floor and the smell of fried food. You give him the benefit of the doubt though, maybe he’s just trying to impress you and you can’t fault him for that, can you? 

Liv told you he’d be sat at the bar in a blue shirt, and there’s only one person it can be when you get close enough, “Victor?” You ask, stood next to him. 

“The one and only,” He smiles at you, standing from the barstool to give you a hug, which you allow, “You look hot.” 

“Thanks,” You chuckle, sitting down on the stool next him, noticing a drink already there for you, it’s a cocktail, bright pink, and you know you’ll already hate it, and you do when you take a sip, wincing as the fruity blend moves down your throat, “Oh, it’s very sweet.” 

“I thought it was a safe option, most girls love this drink.” 

You’re tempted to make a comment about this clearly being his favourite place to bring his dates but you bite your tongue, working through the necessary small talk as you try and drink it as fast as you can so you can choose something you might actually enjoy. 

“So, Liv told me you’re a journalist,” He comments, sipping his glass of whiskey, “What kind of things do you write?” 

“I mainly cover news about the drug trade and how that affects the town.” You explain, taking the last sip of your drink, flagging the bartender down. 

“Pretty morbid,” He shrugs, ordering himself another whiskey as you opt for a margarita, “Surely a girl like you should be writing about fashion or something.” 

You scoff, “So I can’t write about things that are important to our town because I’m a woman?” 

“No, I don’t mean it like that,” He tries to backtrack, “Just that it’s intimidating, is all, might put people off,” He chuckles then, “Although not me, like my girls with a bit of personality.” 

You roll your eyes and don’t even try and hide it as you sip at your margarita, much better, you think. It carries on like that for another hour, Victor and his thinly veiled misogyny and his boring, surface level conversation. He tries at some point to put his hand on your knee, but you jerk away, moving so he can’t touch you. 

“You want another?” He asks when you finish your third drink, “The night is still young.”

“No thank you,” You say, trying to be as polite as possible, “I have work tomorrow so probably best to head home.” 

You try and insist that you pay for your part of the bill, but to his only credit, he insists on covering the tab but does then try and wrap his arm around your waist to walk you outside, which makes you want to hit him more than anything. 

You stand next to him on the pavement outside the bar as the doors close behind you. You can still hear everyone else talking inside, but you have no idea what to do. You want to go home, but it’s dark, and you know you’d told your dad that Victor would walk you home, but you don’t want to spend another minute in his company. 

“So, am I gonna get my goodnight kiss?” He asks, trying to take hold of your wrist to pull you into him. 

He’s stronger than you, so he does sort of succeed in pulling you into his body, but you manage to put your palm against his chest to push him back. 

“I don’t think so.” You cringe a little, trying to lean back as far as you can with his hand pulling your wrist. 

“You’re joking right?” He scoffs, “I paid for your drinks, try and be interested in what you said and you’re going to refuse me?” 

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude,” You speak, trying to talk the situation down, “I just don’t think this is gonna work.” 

“Don’t need to tell me,” He snaps, “Such a fucking tease turning up dressed like this, but you’re really just a prude.” 

“Oh fuck off man!” You try and push him again, succeeding in doing it enough for him to let go of your wrist so you can put some distance between you, “I don’t owe you shit.” 

“Forget it,” He turns around and walks away, leaving you on your own, “Probably would have been a shit lay anyway.” 

You’re tempted to call back but realise it’s not worth it, so you let him wander off, leaving you on the sidewalk on your own with no idea what to do now. You would walk home, but if your dad see’s you on your own, he’s going to kill you for being silly enough to walk home alone after dark, and then find Victor and kill him too for being a jerk. 

You slump against the brick wall of the bar, rooting through your bag, there’s enough cash to go back in and get a drink and try and calm down a little, then, your fingers brush against the card you’d slipped in there a few days ago. The name and the number, and the few coins in the bottom of your bag, draw you to the phone box at the end of the street. You’re putting the money in and dialing before you can convince yourself it’s a silly idea. 

He picks up on the third ring. 

“Peña.” It’s so formal. 

“Javi?” You ask, trying to keep your voice level, but ultimately failing. 

“Are you okay?” Is the first thing he asks, and he sounds frantic. 

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, I just-” God this seems so stupid now, mainly because you don’t want to admit you were on a date, you don’t want to make yourself seem unavailable to him, “I was on a date and it didn’t go well, he was meant to walk me home and well, I don’t want him to, but I don’t wanna call my dad.” 

“He hurt you?” He seems cross, protective even, which makes your tummy flutter. 

“N-no,” You sigh, “He got pushy when I wouldn’t kiss him but I’m fine.” 

You can hear him shuffling around on the other end of the phone, can hear the jangle of keys, “Where are you?” 

“I’m at the phone box at the end of Grant Street.” You say, you’re about to speak again when Javi beats you to it. 

“Stay there, go inside a store or something and wait for me, I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?” 

“Okay,” You nod, like he can see you, “Javi?” 

“Yeah, querida?” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t you dare,” He scoffs, “Never apologise for needing my help, okay?” You can hear the sound of his truck engine in the background, “I gotta hang up to drive, but I’ll be there soon, promise.” 

“Okay,” You sniff, “Thank you.” 

You can hear the dial tone before he can reply, so you hang the receiver back up and head into the liquor store on the other side of the road. You smile at the clerk, who asks if you need anything, you shake your head, tell him you’re just waiting for someone and then spend the rest of the time looking out of the window. 

He’s parking up in a worryingly short amount of time, and as you walk from the store you worry that he put himself in danger driving so fast to get you. He’s opening his door and climbing down from the truck. As soon as you’re close enough, he’s got his hands on your shoulders, searching your face to make sure you’re alright. 

“I’m fine Javi, I promise,” You insist, holding gently to his arms, giving him a smile, “I’ve probably overreacted.” 

He lets his arm drops and signals for you to get into the truck, following swiftly, “If he made you uncomfortable it’s not an overreaction,” He speaks, turning the truck back on and pulling away, “He still around?” 

You shake your head, “I don’t think so.” 

“Good.” 

It makes you wonder if he means good because he won’t bother you anymore, or good because it means he won’t be tempted to do something about his blatant disrespect. You decide not to probe that one, but file it away for later. You’re driving down the street when your stomach grumbles, reminding you that you’ve not eaten since lunch. 

“You hungry?” 

“I could eat,” You mumble sheepishly, “I’m sure there’s something at home.” 

Javi nods, but drives straight past the turning he would need to take you home, driving straight on instead and turning off a little later. You’re about to ask where he’s taking you when he pulls into the parking lot at McDonalds. He parks up and tells you to stay where you are. 

You watch him as he walks away, perfectly broad back, shirt tucked into his jeans. He really is a vision in every way when you look at him. He’s striding back out a little while later, brown paper bag in one hand and a soda cup in the other. He passes them both to you as he climbs back into his seat. 

“What’s this?” You ask, taking a sip of the cold soda. 

“Cheeseburger, extra pickles and a Sprite with extra ice.” 

Yet again, he’s managed to amaze you with his observation skills. There was a time where he’d taken a trip with you and your parents, just a day out of town somewhere, and you’d stopped to get food on the way home, you’d made this exact order, turned to him and told him it was your favourite, and somehow he’d filed that away for right now, when you needed it the most. 

“Thank you.” You speak simply, reaching in for the burger, unwrapping it carefully before taking a bite. 

Javi can’t help but watch out of the side of his eye as you eat. God, you looked beautiful. Jeans that looked like they’d been painted onto your skin, showing off all those perfect parts of you. A shirt that was enticing without being too much. Fuck, he wanted to reach over, use his thumb to wipe away the tiny bit of sauce that had gathered in the corner of your mouth, push it into your mouth and let you lick it off his thumb. 

You ball up the wrapper your burger had come in once you’ve finished, dropping it into the paper bag, picking up the cup of soda to suck the Sprite through the straw, “You alright now?” He asks. 

You look at him, small, sad smile on your lips, “Just can’t help feeling there’s something wrong with me.” You shrug, offering him a sip of your drink which he declines. 

“What do you mean?” He asks, wanting to reach over to you, put a comforting hand on you, but deciding against it for now. 

You shrug a little, leaning your head back against the seat, “No-one ever looks at me in that way, I suppose,” You answer honestly, and he wants to tell you it isn’t true, that he thinks of you exactly like that, no matter how much he shouldn’t, “I’ve been with one guy in my whole life and I don’t think he ever really liked me, was only with me because I was the only one left out of my friends.” 

“Did he say that?” 

“He didn’t have to,” You shrug again, “He never really made an effort, never took me out, never really wanted to sleep with me much either, I guess I was just easy for him,” You say, “Convenient.” Is what you finish on. 

“It isn’t you,” Javi speaks, turning his head to look at you, resting it against his seat in much the same way you are, “First of all, college boys are always idiots, don’t let that be your base line,” You snort and turn your head to look at him now, “What did tonight’s idiot do?” 

You shake your head at him, “He was just a misogynistic asshole,” You add a shrug, “Apparently because I’m a woman I should write about fashion and not anything that actually matters.” 

Javi scoffs, because in his experience, women make the best journalists, quiet, unassuming but they always knew how to pull strings and get what they wanted and he doesn’t doubt you’re the same, “Take it as a compliment,” He offers, “Sometimes it’s best to intimidate boys, and the ones that you don’t?” He asks as a rhetorical question, “Those will be the men worth your time.”

You chuckle a bit, rolling your head on the headrest behind you to look back out of the front of the car, “You’re just saying this to make me feel better.” 

Javi reaches over, takes hold of your hand and gives it a slight squeeze before he’s letting it drop again, almost like he’s been burnt, like he knows he shouldn’t have done it, “I am saying it to make you feel better, that’s the whole point, but it’s true,” He shrugs a little in his seat, “Don’t feel like you’ve got to rush into that side of life either, you’re still young, there’s plenty of time for you.” 

You hum in agreement because you know he’s right, it’s what everyone always says to you in these circumstances, but somehow, coming from him, it means more. He’s older than you and although you’ve no doubt that he’s known plenty of women in his time, he’s in just the same predicament as you are. 

“Will you take me home?” You ask softly, “I’m tired.” 

He nods, starting up his car, pulling out of the parking lot and finally driving you back home. 

He pulls his truck up just down the street from your house, far enough away that your dad won’t be able to see, but close enough that he knows he’ll be able to sit and wait to watch you get in safely. He cuts the engine and turns to you, giving you a soft smile, trying to tell you that it’ll all be okay. 

“Thanks,” You speak softly, “For all this, made a shitty night not so bad in the end.” 

“Always,” He smiles back, “I mean it when I say you don’t ever need to worry about calling me.” 

“I know,” You smile, and he feels his heart swell at the sight, “Well, goodnight Javi.” 

He doesn’t really register what’s happening until it’s too late. You drag your body across the truck instead of moving to the door to open it and press a gentle kiss to his cheek. It would be innocent enough if it wasn’t for the fact your lips press into the skin just far enough away from his mouth so as not to cross a line, but not right in the middle of his cheek either. It’s the softest way he’s been touched in a long time, and he can feel himself wanting to grip onto you, smash his mouth to your own and finally scratch the itch that’s sitting under his skin. 

You pull away, but before you can open the door, he’s taking hold of your wrist and moving closer, pressing his own kiss to your cheek right back, further up your skin than you had done to him, but it’s a kiss to your skin none-the-less, one that floods his chest with hope, a feeling he hasn’t really felt in years. He keeps his mouth there probably for a little longer than he should, committing the feel of your skin on his mouth because he knows this is as far as he should push things, but he also knows that he now needs to know what the rest of your skin feels like under his mouth. 

He pulls away and when he looks at your eyes, all full of hope and want, the same look he’d seen countless times in Colombia, whether he was promising a visa or led next to someone in bed, and he knows he shouldn’t have done it, shouldn’t have encouraged these kinds of feelings, but he’s done it now, he can’t take it back, wouldn’t want to if he could either. 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, querida,” He says softly, “Nothing wrong with you at all.” 

[cutielando]

just you and me ~ jj maybank

my masterlist

You were laying with your back against JJ's chest in the hammock in front of John B's house, watching the sunset.

"Do you ever wish things would have been different for us?" you asked out of the blue, breaking the comfortable silence.

"What do you mean?" he said, twirling a peace of hair around his finger.

"I don't know. Like, do you ever wish you were a Kook? That your mother was still around and your father wasn't the abusive bastard that he is?" you said, gazing up into his eyes.

He chuckled at the last remark.

"I don't know, I guess so. I mean, I wish my mother was still here. She was the best. She would've loved you, you know?" his eyes were starting to fill with tears, his mother being a pretty sensitive topic for him.

"I wish I could have met her, from what you've told me she was a wonderful woman. I think we would've gotten along" you were running your hand over his chest, drawing random shapes with the tip of your finger.

"You definitely would have. She always wanted another child, a girl. You could've been the daughter she neved had"

You hugged his torso tighter at that, knowing how much pain her leaving them caused him. He never really spoke about her, only if you insisted on it.

"Do you ever wish she hadn't left?"

"Of course I do. She's the reason why dad is the way he is. He always blames me for her leaving, and when he hits me he says he sees her in me so he loses it"

"That's no excuse, bub. No parents should ever lay a hand on their children, no matter what"

He nodded, fighting the urge to cry. You leaned up and kissed him on the lips, his heart finding comfort in your touch.

After he met you, he finally found the peace he had been looking for since his mother left. The person he would feel at peace with, the person he would get to call home. In you, he found that someone.

"I love you" he whispered, resting his forehead on yours.

"I love you too" you smiled at him, reaching up and running a hand through his messy hair.

A peaceful silent enveloped the two of you, the only thing that could be heard were the waves in the distance.

"We'll go full Kook one day, right?" you asked again, making JJ chuckle.

"Of course we will. We'll buy a house on Figure Eight and we'll make gold statues of ourselves and put them in our front yard for everyone to see. We'll have a couple of kids, maybe a dog or two and live happily ever after with our bank accounts full of cash" he explained while proceeding to run his fingers up and down your arm.

"Why the gold statues?"

"I don't know, they seem cool"

You chuckled and nodded your head, burying your face into his warm chest.

"I can't wait to do all of that with you. You're it for me, J. You're the one" you told him, not looking up at him in fear of his reaction.

"You're it for me, too. I don't think I'd ever be able to find someone as perfect as you" he kissed the top of your head.

"It's just you and me against the world"

"Just you and me"

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[desideriumwriter]

Anyone But You | Chapter 2 | F.W. x Fem!Reader

Chapter Summary - An introduction to your bestfriend, you're forced to go to a dinner party at the Weasleys over the holiday break, the twins give you a small gift you're absolutely not going to open.

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Category - enemies to lovers, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, slowburn

Content Warnings -cursing

Word Count - 3.8k

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Even though you were seen as rude and snippy in the twins' eyes, you had friends, people you actually enjoyed being around, people who didn’t attempt to get on your nerves every five seconds. Cedric Diggory was one of them. He was your bestfriend.

Despite being put in different houses, you and Cedric became great friends, you’ve gotten along better than anyone else. You met him on the train to Hogwarts your first year, and you two connected like puzzle pieces. He’s definitely someone who isn’t unbearable to be around.

Of course, there was the occasional rumor or gossiping that would spread around annually about you and Cedric secretly being together, or that you two had something going on at least. Those were just rumors though. Cedric feels like a brother to you, he had eyes for other girls and you had no interest in a relationship. You had no interest in each other. You loved him, but only in a sibling way. He was treated like a brother. 

You had other friends rather than Cedric, but you were closest to Ced. He was the only friend you would actually keep in contact with and write letters to outside of school.

✦✦✦

You carried your owl's cage and dragged your large leather suitcase down the stairs as Cedric boasted about his most recent win.

“And who did Gryfinndor get their arses whooped by last week?�� He brought his hand up behind his ear, waiting for you to admit your house's loss, you simply shook your head in refusal.

“Hufflepuff!” He sang, “Who caught the snitch? Number seven, Cedric Diggory!” He cheered to himself, you rolled your eyes playfully.

“Whatever, Gryffindor only lost because Fred couldn’t keep his eyes off Angelina.” 

“Ah yes, Fred is to blame. Always to blame. Another chance for you to hate him!” Cedric teased, he knew all about your hatred for the twins. Of course he has, he’s your bestfriend for Godric's sake. You’ve complained multiple times about them to him, gone on hour-long rants over whatever prank they pulled.

“Yep!  Anyways, what do you have planned over the break?” You stopped at the landing of the staircases, setting down your owl and suitcase, leaning back on the stone railing, letting crowds of students pass you.

“Absolutely nothing. My dad might make me help him at work.”

“What? Wouldn’t that be cool? You’ll get to see cool creatures, right?” He scoffed at your upbeat reaction.

“I’ll get to see boring paperwork. I’ll get to organize boring folders. I’ll get to do the boring work.” He said flatly as he shrugged. “I got to see a hippogriff once though.”

“Really? How’d it go?” You 

“Nearly bit off my arm.” 

“Oh.” The excitement in your voice lowered. “Well, I won’t be doing anything either besides sleeping.” You teased as you grabbed your things and began to walk down the staircases again.

✦✦✦

Winter break had been going nicely. Your friends had sent letters and early Christmas gifts, small and light enough for your owl to carry, you did the same for them. You were able to sleep in, you didn’t have to worry about your things being messed with, you didn’t have to be woken up by loud and annoying voices early in the morning, and you didn’t have to deal with those bloody twins.

You woke up early today, you chose to not sleep in and went into the kitchen for breakfast. While searching the cupboards for your favorite cereal your mother walked in, an empty mug and plate in her hands. 

“Good morning, sweetheart!” She said as she placed the dishes in the sink, watching a scrubber begin to float and clean the dishes by itself.

“Morning, mum. Have any letters come today?” You asked as you took the cereal and poured it into your bowl, followed by some milk.

Before your mum could open her mouth, a strong screech came from outside, followed by a loud hit into the open cupboard door next to you, both of you jumped at the sudden entrance.

You knew that old owl from anywhere. It was Errol, one of the Weasley family’s owls. He laid on the kitchen floor for a second, then stood up straight, shaking himself off and fluttering onto a chair near your mother, handing her a nicely sealed envelope. Your mum sent the owl off without giving him anything to deliver back.

“That poor bird is on its last leg.” She muttered under her breath, shaking her head as she opened the envelope. Her unamused face changed into delight as her eyes moved through the letter.

“Oh, would you look at this! The Weasleys invited us over for a dinner party!” She grinned at you, showing you the paper.

“What?” You dropped your spoon into your bowl when you heard the news, droplets of milk hitting your shirt.

“The Weasleys invited us, Molly and Arthur are hosting a dinner party for their anniversary. How sweet is that?” You grabbed the letter from her a bit too aggressively, staring at the invitation intently.

“Very kind! Do I have to go?” You got straight to the point once you asked hesitantly, looking up, you already knew what your mother's answer would be.

“What?- Yes you have to go! Don’t be ridiculous.” Your mother scoffed, slightly shocked at your response to the invitation, taking the letter back from you.

“Please, mum! You know I will not be able to handle being there for more than five minutes.” You pleaded.

“What are you talking about? The Weasleys are very good people, y/n. You know that. You should be appreciative that they invited us.” She said sternly, a slight scowl forming on her face.

“I’m not talking about the Weasley family, I’m talking about Fred and George! The twins! They’re horrible! Please, just let me stay home, mum. You can tell them I’m sick or already on a trip with friends!” There was pure determination in your words, you were not going to spend any amount of time around Fred and George Weasley during your break.

“No, Y/N. They invited us, which means you too. It’ll only be for a single afternoon, you can deal with it.” Your mother shut down your begging, “Make sure you have a dress or…just find some nice clothes to wear, the dinner is tomorrow.” She began to leave the kitchen, turning around to ask you one last thing. 

“Also, could you send a letter back? Saying that we will be there? Thanks, darling.” She walked out of the room before you could protest anymore. You groaned, placing your head in your hands.

✦✦✦

This wasn’t the first time you were invited to the Weasley's house. There was one or two times where they invited you, you would’ve gone if Fred and George didn’t live there, so you faked being sick. 

Of course, your mother wouldn’t fall for it this time. So, you slipped on a nice pair of jeans and a comfortably warm sweater. 

While checking yourself out in the mirror, making sure nothing looked weird on you, an owl flew onto your windowsill, holding a bright purple envelope sealed with orange wax in between its beak. You were hesitant to take the envelope from it. You’ve never seen this bird before.

You nervously took the envelope from the bird and it flew away without any problem. Being more confused than ever, you flipped the envelope to the back, maybe it had been delivered to the wrong person?

However, your address was issued underneath it, it even stated where your bedroom was. Your stomach tensed, this was creepy. A bird you’ve never seen before shows up at your window with a tacky envelope that has direct instructions to your bedroom.

You opened it cautiously, not knowing what would be inside, as soon as it was halfway open, confetti and a few miniature fireworks popped out.

A little birdy (no pun intended) told us you were coming over tonight! Can’t wait to see you, we miss seeing your scowls and hearing your mean voice!    - F & G

Of course, the twins. How the hell did they know the exact location of your room? While trying to figure that out, you nearly missed the small writing at the bottom of the card.

p.s. we have a gift for you, hopefully, you’ll like it :)

You furiously crumbled it up, practically slamming it into your trash bin. Stomping back to your mirror, you picked out all the bits of confetti that had got caught in your hair and the few pieces on your sweater and floor until your mum told you it was time to leave.

Merlin, have mercy on me. You thought to yourself.

✦✦✦

The dinner party wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. The first thing you noticed was how Mrs. and Mr. Weasley were the most welcoming and kindest people you met. You wondered how Mrs. Weasley especially dealt with the twins and their mischief for fifteen years of her life. 

When you sat down at the table with everyone else, you were disappointed in Harry and Hermione's absences, you expected at least one of them to be there. However, Hermione was traveling with her parents and Harry wasn’t allowed to leave the Dursleys home.

You kept your distance from the twins, choosing the seat that was farthest from them at the table, sticking by Ginny's side and making conversation with her. Yet, the twins still took any chance they could get to mess with you.

They stole food off your plate when you weren’t looking, taking whatever bowl of food you were reaching for first, even putting whatever potion they made to cause your roasted ham to turn into a green color.

“Hey, it’s like that one muggle book, with the guy who rhymes!” Fred pointed out.

“What was his name? Dr.Sauce?” Fred quipped, Ginny let out a small giggle at the name.

“Dr.Seuss, Fred.” Mr. Weasley corrected, “I’ve actually had to take in a few of his books at work. One bloke was trying to figure out why the drawings weren’t moving.” Their dad chuckled and nudged you playfully with his elbow.

Anyway, you tried to stay as positive and nice as you could at the table, but you had to refrain from rolling your eyes anytime Fred or George opened their mouths. Any slight expression of annoyance would earn you a small kick under the table and a stern stare from your mum, your dad would clear his throat or raise his eyebrows at you, these were their ways of saying “Behave, be nice, I’m warning you.”

You were still upset that you had to deal with the one thing- two things you were glad to stay away from, that you expected to stay away from during your winter break. You only had one unwanted big interaction with them, the others were small.

All the adults were in the front yard drinking and having their “alone time from you kids” as Mr. Weasley jokingly said to you. Ginny and Ron were arguing over the TV remote, constantly stealing it from each other and changing the channel to what one of them wanted.

You made your escape by excusing yourself to the kitchen, going to the sink, and refilling your glass with water.

While taking a drink from your glass, you weren’t paying attention to the sneaky and slow footsteps coming behind you. The next thing you felt was two sets of hands on each of your upper arms and you heard two loud troll-like screams.

You jumped and choked on your water, coughing violently as you put down your glass and turned around, shoving both of the twins away as they chuckled.

“What the hell was that for?” You fumed through hard coughs.

“We missed you! We haven’t been able to tease you in months!” George chuckled.

“It feels like we’ve been going through withdrawals.” Fred dramatically said, putting a hand over his heart.

“It’s not teasing, it’s annoying and rude. Now I'd like for both of you to get away from me.” You shoved yourself through both of them, splitting them apart from each other.

✦✦✦

The biggest sigh of relief left your body when you finally got back home. You traveled by floo powder and while getting ready to throw the dust down, you heard those two annoying voices call your name.

“Y/N! Y/N! We haven’t given you your gift yet!” You smiled mockingly as you said your address out loud, throwing the powder down and letting the green flames engulf you and send you back to the fireplace at your home.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, wasn’t it?” Your father teased as you brushed the floo powder off your clothes. “I know those boys irritate you but you’re going to have to learn how to deal with it unfortunately. I don’t believe that won’t be the only visit we make to the Weasley's burrow. You know your mum will want to invite them over too now.” He patted your shoulder and left the room.

You slipped off your shoes and headed upstairs, by the time you opened your door, there was an owl sitting at your windowsill once again. The same owl from before you left with the same tacky envelope.

You took it and opened it clumsily. You breathed out and began to read the messy handwriting.

It was very nice to see your face again! We missed you! 

They didn’t miss you, they missed playing pranks on you. 

So sweet for you to come over and see us! Can’t wait until we get back to school, we have a few surprises up our sleeves. Anyways, hope you enjoyed the dinner!

                                                Love, Gred and Forge

p.s. you forgot your gift! :(

You rolled your eyes as you tossed the card into the trash, walking up to the owl, you hadn’t noticed the small box in its claws, the owl dropped it in your hand, and you stared at it intently.

A small purple box, wrapped with an orange ribbon and tie on top. What’s with them and the colors purple and orange?

You noticed the owl was still sitting at your window as if it was waiting for you to give a letter back.

“Go on, shoo! I’m not sending anything back!” You waved the feathery bird off, lying back down on your bed, going back to analyzing the little box. You didn’t open it, you knew there was most likely some trick to it, maybe like a bunch of glitter would shoot out, or a million tiny fireworks. They wouldn’t give you a plain present, there always had to be something mischievous added to it.

You set it down on your nightstand by your bed. Maybe you’d open it. But not now, you’ll deal with whatever happens when you open it later.

✦✦✦

Maybe about two hours later that bloody owl had come back. You snatched the letter and tore it open, there was no more care in you to be neat with the envelopes.

It’s a bit rude to receive our letter and not respond, I thought you’d said before that you were the one with manners, Ms. Y/L/N. How’d you like your gift? Don’t leave us waiting and wondering! 

One of them had drawn a stick figure with a sad face, with tiny rows of tears falling from its eyes. You smiled at it, then stopped, going back to a straight face once you remembered who this drawing was from. You did not find the twins funny, you never will.

You stomped over to your desk, grabbing a piece of paper, a bottle of ink, and your quill, writing the only letter you would ever send them willingly.

The dinner was very nice, I’m grateful and appreciative that your mother let us come over. I thank her for that. I’m not trusting that box you gave me. I’m not sending any more letters to you two dimwits. Now, shut up and leave me alone you CREEPS!

You wrote the last word in red ink with multiple underlines, hoping they would get your message and finally leave you alone, you knew they wouldn’t, but you tried anyway. You signed your name off nicely, unbothered to put it in an envelope, you weren’t going to put a single bit of effort into anything that was for Fred and George. You gave your paper to your owl this time instead of theirs, giving her sweet words of appreciation and asking her for one extra favor.

“Bite Fred for me, or whichever twin is closer.” You smiled, sending your owl out your window and off into the air.

Only thirty minutes later your owl had returned with a letter, the same one you had sent to them, the only difference was that it had different writing on the back.

We’ll see about that. You let out an angry sigh, crumpling it up and throwing it into the bin, along with the various other purple envelopes. 

You closed and locked your window, putting your owl in her cage and letting her go to bed, covering her cage with a sheet so she wouldn’t be woken up by any light. Then, you decided to go to bed as well, hoping you would sleep through any other attempts of the boys trying to piss you off by sending you letters. 

Fortunately, after that it was silent. Unfortunately, your own thoughts were too loud, they were keeping you awake.

There was a small interaction you had with Fred, it lasted probably for only a minute. 

You were standing in the corner of the kitchen as everyone was conversing in their own separate groups. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley talking to your parents, Ginny and Hermione both complaining about Ron, Ron and Harry were debating about something Quidditch related with the twins.

All the social interaction had drained you, and you really needed to be alone. You excused yourself once again to the bathroom, which was on the third floor. You stood around for a little while in the bathroom, with how talkative your parents were, you knew you wouldn’t be leaving for the next few hours. 

You wondered how long you could be there, how long it would take for anybody to notice that you've been gone for an abnormally large amount of time. You realized you couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever so you left.

You reached the first floor when you realized you weren't ready to go back down where everyone was, you decided to wander down the hallway. Walking slowly and taking small steps, taking a look at each room with an open door. The rooms were a bit small but still nice, at least Ginny’s was still nice.

Her bed was neatly made, there was a wooden desk that had little trinkets lined up across it, a quill and ink sat carefully on top of some papers. Her wall had various Hogwarts and Gryffindor-related things stuck to it.

The next room was above hers, on the second floor. This one was a bit more spacious than the others. Two beds on opposite sides of the room, and another large wooden desk, the same as Ginny’s placed right in front of a window. Except this desk was messy, the whole room was messy.

Beds unmade, socks sprawled across the floor, clothes shoved poorly into their dresser drawer, some popular rock wizard bands posters terribly taped and quidditch medals pinned to the wall. Their desk had multiple crumpled-up balls of paper on it and around it, envelopes, drops, and splatters of black ink staining the glossy wood, candy wrappers, an open textbook nearly about to fall off the edge, and papers with sketches and such bad handwriting it looked like scribbles. 

You fully walked into the room and went over to the desk, picking up one of the parchments that had the most eligible writing. It was a list of sweets, apparently. You’ve never heard of these before.

- CANARY CREAM

- SCREAMING YO-YO

- FEVER FUDGE

- PUKING PASTILLE

- GLOW IN THE DARK GUM

- WEATHER IN A BOTTLE

“Hasn’t your mother told you not to snoop around?” A voice asked from behind you. You jumped and turned around quickly, only to see a tall, redheaded, smirking boy leaning against the doorway. 

Fred, you could tell it was him. He and George are easy to tell apart, for you at least. The way Fred carries himself, how he stands, how he looks, how he annoys you.

“Hasn’t yours told you not to sneak up on people?” You bit back. He shrugged and pushed himself away from the doorway, slowly walking towards you.

“Ah! You’ve found me and George's great ideas!” He nodded at the paper that was still in your hand. The paper that had their “great” ideas, sure.

“How are these great? Fever fudge? Puking pastille? Who would even want these? It’s sick!” You said disgustedly.

“They are sick. Literally.” He chuckled, only to get a grimace from you. “Anyways, kids who want to get out of class want these. But, we’re still working on them. Some of them haven’t worked out the way we wanted them to.” He trailed off.

“Yeah, like the canary cream.” You let out a small scoff.

“Listen, it was an accident!” Fred cried out, taking the paper from you.

“An accident you thought was hilarious.” You spat. Fred’s eyes wandered until they got stuck on a shiny piece of something in your hair. Confetti.

“Uh, you’ve got some confetti in your hair.” He pointed out. Your eyes grew wide in embarrassment, you’d been here the entire time with confetti still stuck in your hair and no one informed you about it. You took your fingers and immediately started combing through your hair.

“Did I get it?” You asked anxiously, Fred only shook his head from side to side. You repeated your actions and asked again, he repeated his again in response. 

“You know what, let me just…” He mumbled, his hand reaching out to your head, plucking out the piece with caution to not pluck out a strand of your hair as well, you didn’t stop him. “There. It’s out.” He gave you a tight-lipped smile.

There was a pause between you two. Time felt like it slowed down as he removed his hand from your hair. There was a twinkle in his eye, his face glowed in the moonlight which was the only source of light in the room. 

“Well, no thanks to you. You’re the one who caused it to get stuck there in the first place.” You shoved past him once again. Heading back downstairs.

Tossing, turning, constantly changing your position, removing blankets, flipping your pillows. Nothing seemed to help you get comfortable. You even tried the classic counting sheep. Nothing.

The moonlight peeked through your windows, and a large stripe of light shined on that stupid little box. You couldn’t take your eyes off it.

[quietblueriver]

They’re in my head again (always) so here’s some more Southern Gothic fluff. Once again very minor spoilers for last night’s ep but mostly just them being perfectly, disgustingly in love.

-

The bones on Laudna’s garland knock together overhead as Imogen ducks under her arm, laughing and stepping close again, squeezing Laudna’s fingers (gently, always gently) before standing on her toes to reciprocate the spin.

Laudna has to bend a little awkwardly to compensate for the height difference, a familiar crack of joints just audible over the music as she turns. She’s laughing when she comes back, smile haunting and bright, and Imogen pulls her close enough to press a kiss to her cheek before twirling her out again.

It’s not long before the deck fills, the rattle of bones a charming if entirely off-beat accompaniment to the music, and a few minutes later, Imogen feels the tap of a skeletal finger on her shoulder. She turns, keeping one hand on Laudna’s waist, to find one of the crewmen shifting from one bony foot to the other.

“Beggin’ your pardon, ma’am.” And Imogen knows that bones can’t blush, but she can almost see it anyway, nerves working themselves out through shifting hip bones and twitching phalanges, a clenching mandible. “Would you mind if I cut in?”

Flaming blue eyes dart to Laudna and Imogen smiles, feeling fond and strangely kin to the skeleton, grateful to be surrounded by souls who see Laudna a little more like she does, who can appreciate the particular beauty of a wilting flower that refuses to give up its spot in the sun.

She raises a brow at her girlfriend, who nods, rubbing a thumb over Imogen’s wrist at her waist.

“Not at all.” She presses another kiss to Laudna’s cheek, a little too close to her mouth to be friendly, and Laudna shakes her head fondly even as she blushes.

No need to worry, darling. I only have eyes for you.

Imogen winks, only the smallest bit embarrassed to have been called out. Can’t blame a girl for tryin’ to make things clear. She tucks a strand of Laudna’s hair behind her ear before stepping back and gesturing to the skeleton waiting patiently beside them.

“Y’all have fun.”

The skeleton dips his skull and moves closer to Laudna. Rather beautifully tattooed waves circle down his radii and ulna, which move hesitantly toward her hand and waist, and Imogen thinks that maybe Kyle isn’t the only sensitive soul on the Crimson Abyss. She hears an enthusiastic, “Hello, there! I’m Laudna,” and smiles as she steps out of the crowd for some quiet.

-

Laudna finds her leaned against the railing, staring into the fog. She braces her forearms next to Imogen’s, pressing their hips together as she says, “Platinum for your thoughts?”

At Imogen’s raised brow she grins and waves a hand, “They’re clearly worth more than a copper, darling, although we might have to come up with some sort of payment plan if you intend to collect. We could resurrect some of the old shows with Pâté and Sashimi, maybe? Or, I have a few craft project ideas…”

Imogen gives a cursory glance to the crowd near them and then puts a hand on Laudna’s jaw and turns her, leaning up for a kiss.

“You can have ‘em for free, darlin’.” Laudna leans down and kisses her again, lips cool and, thrillingly, a little bit familiar now. “You can have whatever you want from me.”

She means it as a tease, even if she’s absolutely serious, but Laudna’s face changes, brow furrowing as she traces her nails up Imogen’s cheek, brings her fingers down to rest against her nape.

“Yes,” she says, quieter. “About that.”

And Imogen knows, braces, waits. Laudna’s eyes, dark and appraising, meet hers. “Your soul is too precious to risk.” It’s definitive, the usual joyful rhythm of her words traded for a series of hard stops.

“So is yours.”

Laudna blinks. And Imogen understands that even now, even after…after, Laudna can’t quite believe what she means to them, what she means to Imogen, but if this is what helps her to understand, then Imogen is more than willing to give it.

“I…”

She waits patiently, but when Laudna seems unable to find her words, looking down at the railing of the ship and biting her lip, Imogen says, “I know she’s in there with you, and you know I support you doin’…whatever it is you want to do about that. It’s your mind and your body and your soul, Laud. I would never, ever try to take any choice away from you.”

She risks tilting Laudna’s chin up with her pointer finger, a gentle pressure that leads Laudna’s eyes back to hers.

“But I need you to understand how important you are to me. To us. I had to live without you once, and…” She clears her throat as a cry comes from the crowd behind them, the music changing and Chetney yelling something she can’t quite make out. Laudna presses closer to her.

“Imogen.”

She shakes her head and takes a deep breath. “I don’t intend on doin’ that again, unless you ask me to.” Laudna shakes her head vehemently, nearly dislodging her rock chisel, and Imogen smiles at her. “But even more than that, it’s…you bring so much good to the world, Laudna. You. As you.” She gestures at the garland and tilts her head back to the crowd. “You bring so much joy.”

“That’s kind of you, darling,” she murmurs, ducking her head again, “but joy isn’t power. I don’t have much of that, without her, but you…you do, Imogen. You’re important. Too important to risk.”

She doesn’t sigh, not out loud, but inside she wants to scream. She wants to give Laudna her soul, to dive into her and destroy the bitch who has spent so long torturing the best person Imogen has ever known.

“There is nothing too important to me to risk for you.” A disgruntled noise, but Imogen pushes on, determined. “Think of what you’d give me for me, Laud.” There’s a tiny drop of ichor at the corner of her eye when she looks up, and Imogen catches it with her thumb as it falls. “You have to know I’d give the same for you. You don’t have to understand why, but…you believe me, right?”

Laudna bites her lip again, and ichor wells there too, the skin split with the force of her incisor. It’ll heal, Imogen knows, but she has to stop herself from tutting, settles for freeing the lip with the same thumb already stained black. Laudna watches as Imogen sucks reflexively on her thumb before bringing it back to Laudna’s cheek.

“Laudna?”

Finally, she nods. “I believe you. Of course, I believe you.”

Imogen nods back at her, says softly, “Good. Then you know, when I said you could suck out some of my soul, I wasn’t offerin’ anythin’ that ain’t already yours.”

Laudna sucks in a breath and Imogen kisses her and kisses her until another cry rises from the crowd and they break apart, breathing slightly heavier.

It’s a lot, all of it. Too much, always too much, to have to carry, even if it is easier between them. But as the music strikes up again, another new tune, Imogen wants to take advantage of the chance to do something a little bit normal and dance with her girlfriend. And if it’s in the most abnormal of circumstances—on a ghost pirate ship with music blasting from their sentient robit friend while bone garland swings from above—then that’s okay. That’s perfectly them.

“And anyway, didn’t you say it was kinda hot? The thought of suckin’ out my soul?”

Laudna barks out a laugh and purples, hand moving to her own cheek.

“Imogen.”

She gives her best roguish grin and winks, grabbing Laudna’s hand.

“Dance with me?”

“Always.”

Their friends are in a circle when they return, Chetney throwing his body against the ground in a strange approximation of a worm as the others clap, and Laudna leans into Imogen as they settle between Orym and Ashton to watch, cheering him on.

[devilat-thedoor]

Sweet to Taste II

blame @ignite-my-fire she asked for it👀

This one is really nothing but forbidden twin filth. But shoutout to these babes for being so supportive💖 @ignite-my-fire @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @gvfpal @jakesguitarsolo

Word Count: 4.6k

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader x Sam Kiszka

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI(Voyeurism, Fingering, Pussy Slapping🫣, Oral(m rec), Unprotected Sex, Spanking, Very Mild Edging, Squirting) Dom!Jake & Soft-Dom!Sam deserve a warning of their own, let’s be real. Oh, and the aftercare🥹

🌟🌟🌟

“Y/N, your 5 top at table six needs refills.” Your coworker, Jess, nudged you, yanking you from your daydream, “Are you good? You keep, like, zoning out…” She placed her tray down, eyeing you.

Standing up straight, you tucked your pen into a pocket on your apron and turned around to grab yourself an empty tray, “Yeah, I’m fine… It’s just been a long shift.” You pulled your notepad out, reading over the table six drink orders, and began filling new cups. Putting on the friendliest face you could muster, you picked the tray up and dropped the drinks off, picking up the empty glasses. Walking back towards the kitchen to get rid of the dishes, your mind began to wander again. Every thought, for the past two weeks, has been Jake and Sam and the night you’d shared with them. You woke up the next morning, tangled between the two of them, and though you had no shame about what went down, you couldn’t be sure they felt the same. When you climbed over Jake to go to the bathroom, he grabbed your waist with one hand, weaving his fingers through your hair with the other to pull you in for a kiss. You could feel Sammy’s eyes on you but you didn’t think anything of it until you finally broke away from the older boy to use the bathroom and came back to find both of them gone. When your calls and texts went unanswered that day, you knew something was up. You gave it a couple of days before you tried to reach out again and when you did, you finally got an answer out of Sam, letting you know that they’d be out of town for a bit. That was a week and a half ago and you haven’t heard anything since…until now. Your phone began to vibrate in your apron pocket and you dug it out to read the caller ID. Jake… Dropping the tray of cups by the dishwasher, you rushed out of the kitchen, “Jess, can you cover for me for a few minutes?” You held your phone up, signaling that you had a call, as she nodded in approval.

“Hello?” You held the phone to your ear as you stepped outside.

His voice came through, sending butterflies through your stomach, “Hey beautiful. You busy tonight?”

You tried to play it cool, but you were practically vibrating with excitement, “Depends… Did you have something in mind?”

“I did.” He paused for a moment, “Josh is having a party at his place tonight. Come. I want to see you… We both do.”

You knew he meant he and Sam, but you were a little disappointed that you wouldn’t have them alone, “Umm. yeah, okay. What time?”

“Be there by 9. See you.” He hung up before you could even say goodbye and the confusion in your brain only multiplied.

You had barely gotten a shred of attention from either of them since that night and now you’re being asked to go to a party because they miss you? It was definitely weird, but you were aching to see them, so of course you’d show up.

🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟

After you’d gotten off work at 6, you went straight home to shower and get ready. A bit of mascara and some lip gloss later, you were pulling on your favorite casual dress. Black and form fitting, hugging your body in all the right places, with thin straps that tied into bows on your shoulders. You fastened your hair into a high ponytail, letting it dangle down your neck. Pulling on a pair of boots and your leather jacket, you took one last look at yourself in the floor length mirror before grabbing your phone and keys to head out. You pulled up to Josh’s, his driveway already lined with cars and people scattered around the outside of the property. The music was loud, filtering through the opened front door as you made your way inside. You made a beeline for the kitchen in search of a drink.

As you stood at the counter, pouring tequila into a cup, a pair of hands landed on your waist, snaking around to wrap you in their hold, “I was wondering when you’d show up.” He bent down, lips right against your neck as he whispered, “I like this dress, babe…a little short though.” He pinched the hem between his fingers, letting his knuckles graze your thigh.

“I knew you’d like the dress, Sammy.” You spun around in his arms, slinging your own over his shoulders, “But I expected you to spend the night avoiding me.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Avoid you? I could never.” He dropped a hand to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he held eye contact, “You and Jake were pretty cozy… I was just giving you the space to explore that.” The smirk on his lips was hinting that he was up to something, “In fact, he’s looking for you now.” His hands left your body as he pointed behind you, “You should probably go say hi.”

You looked in the direction he was pointing to find Jake watching you intently, but even from a distance, you could see the playful smirk on his face. Turning back to Sam, you grabbed his wrist before he could disappear, “You have my attention right now. Jake can wait.” You hooked your hand into the front of his waistband yanking him against you, “Unless you have someone else waiting on you?” Your fingers wiggled against the short bit of hair just beneath his jeans.

“Nobody who’s attention is worth more than yours.” He bent forward, his hand grasping the back of your neck to pull you in for a kiss. You bit down on his lip, drawing a growl from deep in his chest, “Make yourself a drink and come find me.” He broke away from you, slipping through the sea of people littering the kitchen. Turning back to the counter, you picked up your cup, tossing back the clear liquid in it.

“You want some lime with that, mama?” Josh appeared at your side as you poured more liquor.

You put the bottle down, pulling him into a hug, “Nope, having it straight tonight. Have a shot with me!” You handed him the bottle and took your cup.

He fake clinked the bottle with you, “Cheers, Y/N!” He brought the neck to his lips, taking a couple chugs while you swallowed your own. Josh shook his body out with a grimace, “I’ll catch up with you later, mama. Have fun!” He grasped your face, pressing a sloppy, wet kiss to your cheek before skipping into the crowd. You allowed yourself one more shot before going to search for Sammy.

Rounding the doorway out of the kitchen, you saw Jake talking with a few people in the corner or the dining room. His eyes flicked to you for the tiniest second before going back to the girl in front of him, barely acknowledging you. Oh really? You sauntered towards him, a sweet smile plastered on your face, “Not even a hi, Jake?”

He let his gaze settle on you a little longer this time, taking in your outfit, “Hi.” He returned to his conversation as you stared at him. When he realized you weren’t leaving, he turned to face you completely, “I’m having a conversation.” He leaned in, dropping his voice for you and only you, “Be a good girl and go find Sam to keep you company until I’m finished.”

You couldn’t deny the rush you felt at his command as you whispered a “Yes, sir.” and scampered off to look for Sammy.

You found him sitting on the couch in the living room, puffing on a cigarette between his fingers, “Josh would kill you if he found out you’re smoking in his house.” He waved his hands dismissively, unbothered by your claim as he licked his lips, staring at your legs, “You’re an ass. Gimme.” You plucked the stick from his hold and dropped into a random cup on the coffee table, listening to the sizzle as the cherry went out.

“C’mere, babe.” Sam yanked on your hand, pulling you down on his lap, “When can we get the fuck out of here?” He flattened his palm against your abdomen, pushing you to sit back against his chest, “I just wanna peel this dress off…” His breath was hot on your skin as he whispered in your ear, bunching the fabric up in his fist.

You tilted your head to him, flashing a devilish smirk, “Why the rush, baby? Isn’t the party just getting good?” You circled your hips, effectively grinding into him. When you turned your attention back to the rest of the room, you scanned the crowd for the other Kiszka, finding him in a conversation with another man.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Y/N.” His teeth nipped at the shell of your ear, “If you think I won’t throw you down in front of all these people, you’re sorely mistaken, babe.” Sam’s hand left your sternum to rest on your leg.

You watched his hand tickle along your skin, squeezing the inside of your thigh, “I think you know I always finish, Sammy?” The music was loud and the lights too low to emit any kind of glow over the two of you, “Don’t make empty threats…”

You felt his tongue glide up your neck, “You wanna make him watch, don’t you?” His hand lingered on your thigh, fingers teasing higher.

You tore your eyes from his hand, looking up to see Jake across the room, surrounded by other party guests but his gaze unmistakably transfixed on you, “I just think he might enjoy the show, Sammy.” You shivered as he finally made it beneath your dress.

His eyes widened as he dragged a finger over you, “You’re not wearing- Fuck, babe…”

“Oops…must’ve slipped my mind.” You shrugged as you held eye contact with Jake, his stare burning deep into your skin. A gasp escaped you as he slid through your folds and you parted your legs just an inch further.

He teeth were just barely digging at your shoulder as he stared down, “You’re so fucking wet, babe.” He was swirling his calloused fingers over your clit, smiling to himself as you fought to keep your whimpers down. He dipped his hand lower, pushing the tip of his middle finger through your entrance to feel you instantly clench around it, “Shit… She needs me, huh? Practically begging for my fingers.”

You struggled to keep your eyes on Jake as Sam pushed his finger deeper. You could’ve sworn you watched his gaze narrow, his tongue darting out over his lip, right before your eyes flitted. All of your focus went back to the younger Kiszka, “More, Sammy.” You cupped your hand over top of his, dropping your head to his shoulder, as he added a second finger, “Hmmm…”

He let out a quiet chuckle, “I bet she’d prefer my cock, wouldn’t she?” His eyes were flicking around the room, making sure your display stayed unnoticed, “If you just sit up a little, I could slip right inside, babe. No one would even know.” The deep rasp of his voice was enticing, making you want to throw all your inhibitions out the window, “He’s getting pissed… You think he’ll stick around to watch you cum on my hand?” Sam curled his fingers, eliciting a high pitched whine from you. His free hand came up to grip your face, turning your head enough to sink his mouth onto your own, swallowing up the noise.

You were completely lost in the feeling of Sammy, you didn’t catch Jake storming through the plethora of people, “Are you fucking done?” His fingers wrapped around your wrist, plucking you from Sam’s lap.

You yelped as Sam retracted his hand before gazing up at Jake with a giggle, “Well, I was almost done.” Looking back at the younger boy, he was laughing as well, but Jake didn’t share the amusement.

“Upstairs, now. Guest room.” He growled the command into your ear, “I need to have a word with my brother. Go.”

“Jakey, we were just-“

His nostrils flared as he stared at you, “One more word and I’ll see to it that you don’t cum at all. Go.” He pointed towards the staircase. You didn’t argue, just turned and scurried up to Josh's guest room, closing the door behind you. You sat on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do or what was to come, as you fidgeted with your hands. Kicking your boots off, you climbed onto the mattress, sitting with your legs tucked beneath you and waited for them. Several minutes had passed when the door finally opened and the brother’s came through it, both wearing wicked grins, “I hope it was worth it, baby… Didn’t anybody ever tell you that your actions have consequences?” Jake was coming across the room as Sam locked the door.

You swallowed hard, building the courage for what you were about to say, “What’s the matter, Jake? I thought you’d enjoy watching?” You tried to look as innocent as possible.

He was in front of you in a flash, holding your jaw in one hand while he undid his jeans with the other, “You think that was your idea? Think you’re in charge?” He let out a deep laugh, taking his hand from your face to dig into his pocket, “Baby, you’re not the only one who likes to make bets.” He pulled out a hundred dollar bill, passing it to his brother while keeping his eyes on you.

“He didn’t think you’d do it. Not in the middle of the party… But I know you, babe.” Sam took the money with a smile, “To be fair, I was gonna let you cum before he interrupted, but I think he felt left out.” He nodded to the older boy.

Your eyes darted back and forth between them, “You guys- Wait… What was the bet?”

“Well,” Jake grasped the hem of your dress to lift it over your head, “Sam kept going on and on about how you’re always down for anything, never one to shy away from a challenge.” He waited for you to raise your arms, removing the garment to toss it to the floor, “I bet him that he couldn’t get you to open up for him in a crowded room tonight- lay down.” He pushed on your shoulders, guiding you to lay on your back, “Deep down, I knew you’d fold… But I was a bit surprised at how quickly you spread your legs for him.” He pulled you to the edge of the bed, pushing your legs apart, “Putting this sweet pussy on display for anybody to see, no hesitation.” He bit down on his lip, petting your clit with the pad of his thumb.

The light touch made you whine, “No it- Fuck… It wasn’t for-“ Your breath caught as he applied more pressure.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, what was that?” His thumb continued its movement while he pushed two fingers through your entrance, “Come on. Use your words.”

“You, Jake.” It was a breathless huff, your hands digging at the blanket below you, “It wasn’t for anyone…It-It was for you to see.”

Sam crawled onto the bed behind you, taking your hands into his and holding them, “She was so fucking wet, Jake. She likes being watched.”

“She’s still soaked, brother.” He pulled his fingers from you, rapidly flicking them over your cunt to hear the vulgar, splashy sounds, while Sammy moved his hands to your tits, pinching your nipples between his fingers.

You were writhing on the bed, the stimulation from both of them driving you wild, “Please… I’ve been waiting for weeks.” You were lifting your hips to meet Jake’s hand, “Aaah. Fuck, Jake.” You whimpered as his hand cracked down over your pussy, sending a shockwave through you.

“Normally, I’d like to hear you beg, baby…” His fingers pushed back into you, “But we’re gonna take our time with you tonight and begging won’t move things along, only compliance will.” He thrusted deep, curling his fingers against your sweet spot, “Understand?” He repeated the action a second time.

Acting purely out of feral need, you rolled your hips into his hand, earning yourself another harsh slap, “FUCK. I’m sorry. I-I understand.” You gripped onto Sam’s wrists as he continued massaging your breast.

Jake ripped his shirt off and pulled himself from his already unbuttoned jeans, “That’s good, beautiful.” He grabbed his cock, stroking it as he stood between your legs, “I wanna hear you make all those dirty noises.” He slipped his head through your folds, allowing the wetness to coat his tip, before burying himself inside of you, “Don’t hold out on me.”

You winced at the stretch, digging your nails into Sammy’s arms with a hiss, “Christ, Jacob!” You looked up to see the smug smile planted on his face as he began drawing his hips back. He moved slowly, making sure you felt every fine detail.

He left only the tip in, bringing his fingers back to your clit to draw a series of whines from you, “That’s it, baby. Let me know just how good I make you feel.” Jake slammed back into you without warning, smiling at the cry you let out. He kept this up for what felt like an eternity, drawing out to tease your throbbing clit just to fill you back up for a short second.

Your mind was swimming, unable to form any thoughts outside of release. Knowing you wouldn’t get anywhere with Jake, you turned your attention to Sam, who always had a soft spot for you, “Sammy… Baby, please.” You gazed up at him, brows pinched as shaky whimpers fell from your lips, “P-please, I need-.”

“Shhh. It’s okay, babe. I’ll take care of you.” He let his fingers graze your cheeks in the softest touch before looking to his brother, “Jake, let me have her.”

Jake met his eyes, the two of them caught in a staring contest, before he finally relented, “Fine… You give into her too easily. She’s got you wrapped around her finger.” He pulled himself out of you, allowing the other boy to take his place, “Flip her over, I want to fuck her pretty face.”

Sam gripped your legs, flipping you in a swift movement and placing your feet on the floor, “I think I like this view better anyways.” He kept your chest pressed into the mattress and slapped his palm across your ass, enjoying the way it bounced and rippled, before bending to leave a kiss right over his red handprint. He took note of how your body shuddered from the contact, “Did you like that, Y/N?” He slapped your ass again, adding a red welt to the other cheek.

“Mhmm. Do it again, Sammy.” Your plea was followed up by a dulcet hum.

His palm came down harder, leaving a sharp sting, “Your pussy is fucking dipping, babe. She loves it.” He rubbed his hands over your flesh, soothing the skin, “Let’s see just how wet she can get.”

You heard the sound of his zipper right before he was pushing into you. He had a tight grip on your hip, filling you slowly, “Oh god, baby. You feel so fucking good.” You dropped your face to the mattress, allowing the thick comforter to muffle your loud groan.

His hips began snapping into you, the thunderous sounds filling the room, “I feel better than him, don’t I?” His tone was mocking and you were sure he was looking directly at Jake as he spoke, “I know just how to spoil your sweet pussy…make her cry for me.” He was pounding into you, making it impossible for you to utter anything other than pitched cries.

You felt the bed shake a bit before a hand was twirling around your ponytail to lift your head from the blanket, “I’ll give you something better to muffle those sounds, beautiful.” Jake sat back on his heels, resting just close enough that your mouth was right over his dick, “Open up, baby.” He knotted the hair around his fist, lowering your head back down. You parted your lips, letting him slide into your mouth with ease, “You’re listening so well tonight. Being so good for us.” He allowed you to bob your head, taking him slowly as you moaned around his length. After a few moments, he pressed down on the back of your head, holding it in place as he hit your throat. Tears filled your eyes, gags heaving from the depths of your esophagus as you attempted to push yourself off of him, “Ahh. Sam, grab her hands.” Sammy hooked his hands around your elbows, pulling them behind your back, his thrusts never faltering. Jake lifted your face from his cock, watching proudly as you fought for a breath, more saliva dripping from your mouth with every gasping cough, “Go ahead and breathe, baby.” He gave you a few more seconds before bringing your mouth back, gliding along your tongue as he dragged your head up and down on him.

“Shit… Everytime you make her gag she fucking squeezes me so tight.” Sam’s voice was low and husky, breaking through the groans in his chest, “You’re so fucking close, babe. I can feel it.” He pulled harder on your arms, forcing an arch to your back and eliciting a loud wail from you at the changed angle. His cock was hammering into your g-spot, winding the coil tighter and tight with each pass.

Jake pulled you from his length again and released your hair, “Let her down a little bit, Sam, just a few inches.” He waited for his brother to comply, loosening his hold on your arms. You watched him stroke himself through blurry vision, “Your tongue, Y/N…” His free hand went to the back of your head, guiding your mouth to his balls. You stuck your tongue out, lapping at them hungrily before sucking them into the warmth of your mouth and moaning around them, “That’s- Oh fuck, baby. That mouth is heaven.” His breathing picked up along with the pumping of his hand, “You think we should fill her up, Sammy?” You could tell by the tone of his voice that he wasn’t going to last much longer, “Think she earned it?”

“I think we earned it, brother.” Sam spoke through gritted teeth, “But she’s there, Jake. Any second…”

You let him fall from your mouth, “Pleeeease. I need it, please let me cum.” You pouted up at Jake, begging for the release, “I’ve been good, Jakey, please.” Your moans were becoming more desperate with every stroke of Sam’s dick.

He brushed the loose hairs from your face, “Swallow all of me and Sam will let you have it, pretty girl, I promise.” You gave a weak nod, ready to explode at any given moment. Jake was sliding back into your mouth in an instant, “I could stay here forever, you do so fucking well, baby.” He was guiding your head up and down but when you sucked your cheeks in, tightly suctioning your mouth around him, that was it, “Y/N, fuck-.” He sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, his cock twitching frantically against your tongue, “Jesus, I- Fucking take it, baby. All of it.” He drove into the back of your throat, cursing under his breath as he held you in place, spilling into your mouth. Jake watched in awe as you gulped him down without a problem, savoring every last drop. He shuddered as he pulled you from his cock with an incredulous stare, “I don’t think anybody could ever compare to you…” He caught the pained expression on your face as you silently prayed for your own orgasm, “Let her have it, Sammy.” His thumb just barely ghosted over your lip when Sam was yanking you up by your arms.

“You’re so close, babe. Just let me have it.” He was in your ear, speaking through grunts as he slammed into you.

The sound of your cries was drowned out by the blood thrumming through your ears as the tension finally broke, “Sammy. Oh fuck, Sammy…” You choked out the words despite the fire spreading through your entire body, “God, I-” Your words were cut off by the flooding gush that forced Sam out of your cunt.

“No fucking way…” Sam kept a tight grip around your torso as he gaped at the puddle on the floor. He stared in awe for a couple more seconds before letting you drop to the bed to grasp your hips. He slid his cock back into you, only getting a few thrusts in before he was inevitably filling you with his release, muttering mindlessly through his heaving breaths. He carefully slipped out of you, watching his seed leak out, before Jake was distracting him.

“Sam, don’t let go of her! She’s gonna-” He was rushing to pull you onto the bed before your legs buckled beneath you. He tugged you against him, holding you close as he looked at your tired eyes, “She’s fucking spent, man. Go get something to clean her up…and a towel for the floor.”

Sam yanked his shirt over his head, giving it to his brother, “Put her in this. I’ll steal a pair of boxers from Josh’s room.” He waited for Jake to pull the shirt over your head, buttoning his jeans back up, before heading out of the room.

“You okay, baby? We didn’t go too far, did we?” He got your arms through the sleeves as you shook your head with a soft hum and your eyes started to close, “You’re tired, I know… Just wait until Sammy gets back with a washcloth and then we can go straight to sleep, pretty girl.” Your legs were still trembling as you curled into him and he rubbed gentle circles on your back.

Sam came barreling back into the guest room, tripping over his own feet, “I grabbed her some water, I think she lost a lot.” He said it with a chuckle as he dropped a towel over the mess you’d made and climbed onto the bed with the rag, “Here, babe, let me see.” He pushed your legs apart, making quick work of wiping you down, taking extra care around your sensitive bits, “Okay, can you just lift a little bit for me, Y/N?” You watched through barely opened eyes as he dropped the cloth on top of the towel and slid the stolen boxers over your legs. You lifted your hips with Jake’s help, allowing Sammy to secure the waistband in its proper place.

“Alright, baby.” Jake broke away from you to climb off the bed, prompting his younger brother to do the same, “We’re gonna let you rest.” He made sure you were nestled snug into the pillows before pulling the duvet over you.

You felt Sam press his lips to your temple and reached for him before he could pull away, “Stay with me. Both of you.” Your voice was raspy, riddled with sleep already, “Please.” You tugged on his hand, dragging him to lay down with you. Once you felt Sam settle in, you held your hand out to Jake, “Jakey…” You mewled, coaxing him towards you. He finally took your hand, sliding into the blankets beside you. Fully enveloped in the warmth of your two favorite boys, you started to drift, sleep taking you fast.

You felt your body relax into the mattress, the last thing you heard as your consciousness slipped away was Sammy’s voice, laced with an arrogant pride, “I made her fucking squirt, Jake.” . . . . .

[verosvault]

🚨SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 8 OF BURROW'S END!!!🚨

Dimension20 "Burrow's End"

Episode 8

Timestamp: 15:11

Video Length: 4min. & 52sec.

I can't fully explain how powerful this scene is to me. One thing I love about Dimension20 is the fact that they're never afraid to roleplay the hard situations and the hard talks. It's-

I love how Tula has this hard conversation with her mom and she isn't afraid to tell her mom that she has an obsession with power and control. Ava really seems like she's at a loss for words, and it's understandable, because she's being called out on it....and it's hard. It's because Ava feels so much guilt and shame for losing Ken. The same feeling that Tula probably feels for losing Geoffrey. Ava chooses to feel guilty and tries to forget what happened... while for Tula, her losing Geoffrey is a constant reminder to her that you have to always be careful because so many bad things can happen? It's like- ugh. I don't even know if what I said is right..but that's... that's how I feel and it's so strong.

I wish I could have a talk with my IRL mom like this. In a way that she can just understand and apologize. Which, Ava didn't apologize right away, she did it later on. But I don't even think my IRL mom has apologized to me for so much. She just guilt trips me and says that she failed to raise me...or whatever. And I'm like...if I could have a talk with my mom like Tula did with Ava, and my mom actually just sat there and tried to actually understand what I was saying, I really feel like my own relationship with my mother would grow. 🥲 It's crazy how they have these types of talks in a show like this!! It's SO REAL and they're just playing a game of D&D! It's insane!!

And like- Viola standing up for Tula! Ugh! It was SO NICE! I LOVE Viola and Tula's relationship SO MUCH! How Viola sees Tula as a role model for her own self! I'm- It's so amazing! Tula and Viola are definitely my faves this season! I just can't with them! Rashawn did such a GREAT JOB with this season and I want to see her in more seasons! She gets so involved and attached and I can't even explain how much I enjoyed her in this season!! 😭✋

Also, Lila trying to comfort Ava near the end because Lila felt a little bad for her. Ava was getting cornered, but...the reason Ava gives for thinking and feeling that way...it kind of makes sense? Even though it's not the best thing to say or even think about and put onto yourself mentally. About like, when something bad happens, just finding someone to put blame on or saying that you haven't done enough or telling your own kids that when they lose someone. That's so tough. It's not right. But I can see why someone would feel that way. It's like- always wishing you could've done more. Because if you did more, then things like that "won't happen". But the truth of the matter is that sometimes things are just out of our control...and we have to have an understanding of that. Sometimes there really just isn't anything that could've been done. :/ As sad as that is...that is basically what Thorn was describing to Ava. Sometimes, life just HAPPENS! And you can't do anything but stand and watch.

I love how this season is scary but is also able to explore these super interesting family themes! I love it so much! It's so relatable in multiple ways and it's insane because these are stoats! It shouldn't be this relatable but it really is! I love watching shows that involve strong family dynamics! (One of the many reasons why I also love "The Umbrella Academy"!)

Family is strong! And it's so cool to see a family grow mentally, emotionally, and physically! My relationship with my family isn't the best. But it's cool to see the people inside of a family trying to talk things out and improve their relationships with each other so that they can finally bond and become stronger! 🥺 The messages here are so strong and powerful and I don't even know how else to say it or explain it in words! 🥺🥺🥺 This has been such a strong, and heartfelt season! 😭✋❤️

[cas-kingdom]

could u write about owen strand and his daughter both talking about the new baby in season 2?

The door didn’t creak as it opened but Owen felt the light from the hallway on his face. He lifted his head and saw the dark shape of his youngest shutting the door behind her before shuffling quickly over to the bed.

“Hey, Sunshine,” he said, “trouble sleeping?”

You didn’t offer much more than an “I’m sleeping with you” as you crawled down the middle of the bed and lay flat between your parents.

Owen nodded definitively. “You’re sleeping with me.” He turned his head to look at you. “Why? Did Mom change your mattress?”

“Shush!” Owen had whispered, but you put a finger to your lips all the same, prompting Owen to mirror you. “Don’t give her ideas.” You sighed and glanced at your mother not at all approvingly. “She took down my frame of New York and hung up a picture of some monkey she said she got T.K. when he was a baby. But Dad, I can feel it looking at me. It’s creepy as heck.”

“Oh, God,” Owen groaned. “How did she even find—” He raised himself slightly, ensuring Gwyneth was still asleep, then lay back down— “I took that down and hid it in a corner of the garage when T.K. turned one. She didn’t believe me when I said that was the reason the kid wouldn’t sleep at night.” He leaned over to whisper conspiratorially. “Blamed it on the decorators we had in to paint the room.”

You snorted a little loudly before covering your mouth. After a moment of silence and no movement from your right, you lowered your hand. “Mom’ll have decorators in next.”

Owen snorted this time, not bothering to cover it up. “She better not,” he said, “the colours in this house are perfect.”

“Everything’s perfect. Was perfect.”

Despite your dejected tone, a corner of Owen’s lips curved upwards slightly. He’d known, of course, that the cursed monkey, no matter how horrific it looked, couldn’t be the only reason for his grown daughter to come sneaking into her parents’ room in the middle of the night. You had sought out his company at night plenty before Gwyn had arrived, and he was sure you’d done the same with Gwyn, but there had always been a reason behind it. He didn’t usually have to pull it out of you, you were good at spilling your thoughts when you knew you needed to. You definitely didn’t take after him in that aspect.

Reaching over, Owen pinched your cheek. “Uh-ohhh,” he sing-songed, grinning when you pushed his hand away, “Y/N’s got something on her miiind.” He settled when you stared blankly at the ceiling and dropped his voice. “Talk to me.”

You took a moment, always did. Then: “Everything’s changing. Not just the creepy monkey. This is the first time I’ve ever seen you guys in the same bed together.”

Owen rose an eyebrow. He hadn’t thought about that. T.K. had been seven when he and Gwyn had divorced, so he’d known at least for a time what it was like to have married parents. You, meanwhile, had been both Owen and Gwyn’s divorce gift to the other. You’d been born and had grown up in two separate homes, both as busy as the other, never privy to the happy family life your friends always talked about. Seeing your parents in bed together was such a trivial thing he hadn’t thought twice about, but it made sense that for you it would be at the forefront of your mind.

“I would’ve thought you’d appreciate that,” he said.

“Oh, this—” You vaguely gestured to him and your mom— “I do. It’s really, really cool. But everything is just—it's—” Quietly exasperated, you tossed your arms in the air before bringing them down again on either side of you. “It’s just weird, Dad.”

“Change,” Owen said. “Yeah, you get that from me. Listen, Sunshine…” He turned on his side to face you, glad when you did the same. “Your feelings are perfectly valid. I’m not the greatest fan of change either, believe it or not, and I know it’s all coming really fast, what with the move and the baby…but it’s all gonna be worth it in the end, right?”

You sighed, toying with the end of the duvet. “Yeah.”

There was more, then. “Y/N Strand.” Owen lowered his voice and his head, brows raising to ensure you knew he wasn’t playing. “My bed, my rules. Spill.”

“But it’s really stupid!”

“I once got told half of what comes out of my mouth is stupid.“ He grasped your hand and squeezed it gently. "What is it? The baby?” Your face fell and he nodded once. “The baby.”

“That’s the biggest change.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I won’t be the baby anymore.”

Ah. He frowned on instinct but corrected it almost immediately. “Not literally, but—and don’t laugh—you’ll always be my baby.” That got a smile from you, and he counted it a massive victory. "Seriously now. Don’t worry about the baby, alright? Things’ll continue to be a bit weird for a couple weeks, and when the baby arrives it’ll be weird again, but things’ll settle eventually.” He kissed your nose. “And I know you’ll make the best big sister.”

Any response you might have given him, other than a wide smile that had Owen claiming the victorious of victories, was interrupted by a quiet and unexpected: "Hey.”

Owen lifted his head to stare across at the, once again, cracked open door. “T.K.?”

T.K. stood at the door. Owen was getting déjà vu. “Can I—" T.K. pressed his lips together in a thin line and walked further into the room, speaking quietly but loud enough for his dad to hear. “Mom switched my mattress and my back aches.”

You gasped and sat up. “She did not.”

“She did too. You got room in there or should I sleep on the couch?”

You shuffled as close to Owen as you could without him falling off the bed. Tucked into his side, his arms pulling you close to him, Owen patted the space between you and Gwyn.

“Hop in, son. Can’t say this’ll be more comfortable than a hard mattress but it’s feeling weirdly like the old makeshift fort days.”

Like brother, like sister, T.K. quietly clambered onto the bed and down the middle until he was neatly stuck between you and Gwyn. There was silence for a moment.

“All I’m saying is she better not have thrown my mattress away because that baby is being returned to me the moment I wake up else I’m moving in with Carlos.”

Gwyn stirred so suddenly at T.K.’s less-than-quiet outburst that the three of you jumped. As if it had been done countless times before, you acted deep in sleep almost immediately, you with your arm slung over your exaggeratedly-snoring dad’s chest, T.K. with his leg stuck in an odd angle and hands folded over his stomach like he was sitting prettily in a coffin.

"What the…” Gwyn muttered, shifting in her place. Then—"Aww. My babies"—before she promptly fell asleep again.

T.K. moved first, his laughter coming in faint bursts. "She’s like Freddie Krueger,” he whispered.

“Sexy Freddie Krueger.”

“Ew, Dad.” You slapped his shoulder.

“Alright, alright. Let’s sleep, if we can.” He reached across to pat T.K. before resting his hand on your head. “Night, kiddos.”

“Night, Dad.”

“Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

And if Owen fell out of the bed in the middle of the night…he definitely complained about it.

Lone Star Masterpost

[onesidedradiostatic]

helluva boss s1e3-6 reaction

these episodes are pretty damn short so I think I can stand to put a bit more in one post, also these are kinda messy random comments on stuff that happened so don't expect it to flow super well

episode 3

NOT THE FOURTH WALL JOKE I'M CRYING??????

I see you background sapphic kiss

she looks so cute

my friend said he found loona annoying...... but honestly not seeing it!! I think she's kinda cute actually

episode 4

some of these characters are like so fucking exaggerated LMAO

HE DID NOT JUST CALL HER A FURRY LMAO

oh this is one spicy killing session LMAO

now some of this stuff near the end, already got a bit spoiled on by the wiki, but it's still all good fun

episode 5

oh my god I actually forgot stolas existed for a bit (thumbnail)

OH FINALLY THIS GUY DEBUTS

CARMILLA MENTION

HOLY FUCKING SHIT?????

HIDEAWAY HIDEAWAY HIDE AWAY FROM ME??????

okay like I know she's classist and shit but can you really blame her for being mad about the cheating

I mean I'm sure she's also just an asshole but everything with stolas is so messy I have no idea how to feel about him LMAO

episode 6

oh holy shit, I'm glad living humans are not like being stupid and actually acknowledging the weird supernatural appearances of demons from hell in the living world

OH HINTS TO THEIR DEAL AGAIN

the contrast between moxxie and blitzo's hallucinations are insane LMAO

blitzo: look at all this trauma I have moxxie: I'm a bottom I'm a bottom I'm a bottom I'm a bottom I'm a bottom I'm a bottom

well that was a nice convo

maybe stolas is kinda cool...... sometimes............

he's a bit fucked up but I'm starting to like him

DAAAAMN

well that was cool!! I think it's starting to pick up quite a bit, think I'll just post this and make a separate post for the last 2 of the season, but I like we're starting to go somewhere, also definitely can't wait for whenever fizzarolli properly shows up cause he and blitzo's shit has really been building up

[bronx-bomber87]

Evening all :) This is the second to last ep of s2. Unreal. I LOVE this episode. For so many reasons. I think its underrated which tends to be some of my fav moments and eps with them. Love this one for couple reasons. One of them being we’re re-tapping into why Tim is the best T.O. for Lucy. Little more look into Tim’s growing feelings for her. Also their continual growth as friends and their deepening bond. I love them so much. Like I said already this ep is underrated and one of my favs and you’ll see why. Let’s get started on this goodie.

2x19 The Q Word

We start off with Lucy's alarm going off for her shift. She turns it off saying how she doesn’t want to work today. (Me either girl...) We see she has a special guest with her. Heh. It's Emmett. Dude still fine as hell. Guess she finally took him up on his offer. Damn girl proud of you cashing that card in haha Way to come back into the dating world.

He tells her to be few minutes late continues on to say ‘Bradford's chill’ LMFAO Not even a little and definitely not with training Lucy. You'll experience that soon enough and see how wrong you are sir. Lucy tells him she’s in the final stretch of her training. Just 30 more days and she’ll be free. (Like you really wanna be free of Tim…we'll let you believe that though.) She is excited to be free of the mind games, Tim tests and being chewed out in public. I can’t blame her there even though it molded her into who she is now as a cop.

Emmett jumps on the chance about making her late after her probation. Lucy has to basically say down boy LOL It’s honestly really nice to see how happy she is. Like I said in the last ep with Tim. With not being Lucy level happy. In this case not Tim level happy or comfortable but nice to see none the less. She clearly has allowed herself to not let Caleb drag her down as much anymore. That's a massive victory for her. Should be noted and appreciated.

Can truly appreciate the relationships they had prior and what they had to give to them before they’re together. Lucy NEEDED someone like this post-Caleb. Needed a sweet goober. I am thankful for the role Emmett played in that. Helping her start to move past Caleb and the damage he inflicted. Her commitment issues showing themselves hard when she asks him to play it cool if they run into each other. To keep them on the DL. Also I don’t blame her she’s in the home stretch of this. Wants to do a final focused push to complete her training as well.

We get to roll call. Grey announces today is the rookies one year mark in the program. He tells them congratulations on not washing out. Tim can’t help himself and poke the bear. Saying ‘We’ll see’ that shit eating grin of his and heart eyes I can not. How proud he is of her projecting off him.

Excuse me sir you’re doing a work flirt right in front of everyone. Look at the way he’s looking at her when he says it. A blind person could read his intentions. Her reaction is perfection. Like she can’t believe he’s doing their banter unabashedly in front of roll call… for all to see LOL Our marriage scene of the episode please enjoy.

Grey says this is the start of their 30 day push. To remind them they’re not there just yet. That they shouldn’t be celebrating until they cross the finish line. Pretty much a foreshadowing for Lucy in this ep. All of them but mainly Lucy and the SL her and Tim have in this one.

Immediately following roll call we join them in their shop. Lucy mentions it’s weird they haven’t had any calls yet. Tim puts on his T.O. hat and barks ‘Crime doesn’t have a schedule boot.’ Lucy just smiles his T.O. company line having no effect on her. Tim notices it right away and asks ‘What she’s so happy about?’ Lucy plays it off says nothing. Can’t she just smile? Tim doesn’t let it go. (Wonder who he learned that from?)

Tells her she’s been doing it a lot lately is all...Lucy bites back she didn’t know being happy was an impediment to being a good cop. Tim remarks he’s just surprised she hasn’t talked his ear off about whatever it is. Tim Bradford speak for he actually wants her to. Whether he likes it or not he’s come to enjoy her sharing things with him. When she doesn't he gets antsy like in this scene. Questions what's going on with her.

Tim acts like he can’t stand how chatty she is. When really he can’t handle it when she isn’t sharing stuff with him. Doesn’t want to feel left out in her life. Especially since she "granted" him re-access to it in 2x17. (He always had it she just had to remind of that fact) Lucy doesn’t budge on any info. So Tim starts taking shots in the dark. Asking random questions. 'Did she rescue a kitten?' 'Adopt a star?' LMFAO Timothy what? Haha god I love this man.

Lucy tells him what early s1 Tim would’ve been thrilled to hear. That her personal life is none of his business. He smiles and says there’s hope for her yet. Ok Tim I’m sure that’s EXACTLY what you want. Smh. My god these two. Do they even realize how much flirting just went down in that interaction? The banter, the looks, the cute little smiles. Look at them in those last two gifs above. As transparent as glass. These idiots I love them so much.

If you needed to see their chemistry in one glorious shot. This is it. What a beautiful shot of these two. How the sun shines mostly on her is lovely nod to them as characters. They're checking in with one another silently as they hear a ‘shots fired’ call come over the radio. Processing the severity of the call together. The lighting is beautiful, the looks glorious, that silent communication ever present. I adore it.

They can hear how amped up the rookie on the radio is. Tim attaches them to the pursuit. Harper and Nolan attach themselves as well. Jackson hears his friends panicked voice. Tells Angela they we’re in the academy together. He the follows suit of the other two. Such an intense drive to where Chris and his T.O. are in pursuit.

Sadly Chris disobeys his T.O. to stay in cover while backup arrives. This kid has something to prove and leaves cover. His T.O. shouting at him to stay back. Unfortunately he’s shot instantly in the chest multiple times by their assailant. The guy takes off leaving Harper/Nolan to chase him as they arrive on scene. Tim and Lucy show up after all the chaos has ensued. Tim pulls Martinez Chris’s T.O. to the side. Says he’s going to need to talk to him since he was a witness to the shooting. Jackson decides to ride with Chris easing Martinez to go talk with Tim.

Tim then does what he does best. Deescalates the situation. This man is trying to justify himself to Tim. Tells him how he taught Chris better than that. That he’s made mistakes before but not like this. Tim is incredible in this moment. This scene shows us how good Tim is at his job. How important he knows training rookies is to T.O.’s Why Martinez is panicking like he is. Feels like he failed this kid and is spiraling.

Tim uses that common bond to get through to an emotionally heightened officer. He's coming off his rookie being shot. He's not seeing straight and blaming himself. So Tim calms him down using logic and listening to get the statement from him. The empathy and understanding that follow are a skill that was sharpened by a certain rookie of his. (So damn proud) He's trying to relay to him this wasn’t his fault. He doesn't need to defend himself to him.

I love how he relates to Martinez in this moment. All the while he is looking at Lucy. His words carrying extra weight to them. Almost like he's telling himself this as well as his fellow T.O.. This is hitting closer to home for him than he'd like. His look says so very much to anyone who is watching closely. Eric crushing it per usual saying so much with so little. The depth of how much he cares for her at this point. The man was gone for her long before they got together. (He just hasn’t been clued in yet about that fact.)

The way his eyes dart over to her while he’s comforting Martinez. What happened to this man is Tim’s greatest fear on the job. Not preparing Lucy enough and she gets hurt as a result. If he could only realize how much he’s already impacted her. She would not have survived 2x11 if not for his training of her. 'The Cop Eyes' he instilled in her to drop that ring for him.

She had the grit and determination all her own to survive no doubt. That 'No quit' paired with his training is why she made it. If you wanted to see Tim’s PTSD in action it’s this next portion. That deep fear of losing her the way he almost did back in 2x11. This next entire scene is screaming that PTSD from that. This moment a stark reminder for him that he could lose her just as quickly on the job due to a mistake. That it would be his fault. Again.

Some may think Tim is too harsh here. He’s being a dick etc. That’s not what I see here at all. I see a man in emotional panic. A spiral really. Talking to Martinez shook him more than he’s leading on. Watching his biggest fear happen to someone else is triggering his PTSD more than he'd like. We all know even with Lucy’s forgiving him how he’s still haunted by her almost death. Tim is still learning how channel his emotions. Lucy has opened a floodgate of having them and he hasn’t learned to control them just yet.

I can relate so very much. When you’ve repressed feelings for so long, then allow them to the surface they can be overwhelming. The anxiety of drowning in those emotions comes out in one of two ways. Anger or a complete shut down. For Tim anger is an old friend of his. He can’t seem to tamp down how this situation is making him feel.

Nor does he know how to deal with why it is. So he sees a small mistake she makes and lashes out. His current anxiety is manifesting into anger right now. His fear taking a life of it's own. Losing it on her over something he wouldn't necessarily been happy about but not to this current level of anger.

He is panicking because after the final 30 days elapses he won’t be by her side to protect her anymore. Its a harsh reality he isn't handling too well right now. Rios being shot bringing that into sharp focus. That this could happen to her without him there to guide her. So naturally he’s going to be hard on her especially in this moment. His way of controlling it and his emotions. He just watched a rookie get fatally shot and carted off to hospital due to a small error in judgement.

All those emotions and all that panic are coming through in spades in this moment. Tim isn’t handling his emotions about potentially losing her well. It more than shows in this scene. If he was trying to hold his emotional cards close to his chest about Lucy in this scene he failed miserably. It comes out when he asks her if she wants to end up like Rios? Showing his hand so much in this scene emotionally.

Now Emmett making the mistake of trying to intervene bites him in the ass badly. It’s bad for a couple reasons. The road to hell is paved with good intentions as they say. Reason one it was a terrible idea. Don’t get between Tim and his person. Emmett caught an emotionally exposed Tim and ran into an actual buzz saw doing this. Today was the WRONG day to interfere with him. Not gonna lie I do love Tim going all alpha on him. Saying she’s HIS boot. Destroying Emmett completely asking if 'He's got it? Before walking away.

Second reason it was not his best idea. Lucy. I adore her telling Emmett she didn’t need him to save her. Damn right you don’t. She is capable of defending herself especially with Tim. That's one of her super powers really. It was more embarrassing for Lucy he tried to step in to "protect" her. Not only that but mess with her work dynamic with Tim. She asked him to be cool at work and he wasn’t. Lucy makes sure he knows that before she takes off herself. She isn't a damsel in distress and lets him know. Leaving Emmett stunned.

Nolan and Harper get a finger print ID off the ditched car they pursued. They’re gearing up to break into Serj Derain's. Tim knows Lucy is shaken up for multiple reasons. Her friend Chris being shot, Him chewing her out and her mini fight with Emmett. He is always thinking of her first even when he doesn’t even realize he’s doing so. It's second nature at this point. He does this by resetting her mentally before they walk in the door of this man's house.

Saying how they already lost one cop today. She’s not going to be another. He refuses to lose Lucy by her potentially losing focus in this moment. This man just knows her like the back of his hand. It always floors me. Knows innately she needs these words of focus. That her mind is elsewhere and he needs it shifted back to the task at hand. The continuous proof of why he was the perfect T.O. for her. Tim reading her emotional state and directing her emotions. This is his version of taking care of her. By telling Lucy exactly what she needs to hear before they start this.

Her look of understanding after he dispenses his words of wisdom to her is perfection. Complete understanding of what he's saying and doing for her in this moment. ❤️ Everything this man does for her has her best interests at heart and ultimately to protect her. (Just like she does for him) It’s a beautiful thing to watch honestly. The two way support these two have for one another. This is an underrated moment for them. I wanted to expound on it. It shows that bond they have.

That even though they’re closer than they used to be with how she can sass him from time to time when it comes down to it that instant respect she has for Tim and his guidance. It is evident in this scene. His wisdom is guiding her right now emotionally and she knows it. That when he is serious like this she takes notice and listens immediately. She would follow him into hell if he asked her to.

They get inside with no issues. He isn’t home and the house is cleared. They’re searching his home office. Lucy asks Tim what they’re looking for? He tells her anything that can tell them where he is. It’s then Tim runs across some disturbing info. Confidential Police files on the Derian’s. Makes sense why nothing has stuck to them now. Someone’s been leaking info to the Armenian mob. A dirty cop in their midst…

We rejoin them in their shop. Lucy asks if they can talk about earlier? So much has happened today he’s not sure what she means. Lucy says about Emmett. Tim is immediately defensive. Tells her nothing to say about it. He tried to tell him how to do his job. On today of all days. Tim says he doesn’t care if he’s her BF. Lucy instantly cuts him off and corrects him. Says he’s not. (ahhh Lucy your commitment issues are showing again my dear) Tells Tim he’s a little dead to her right now anyway. I’m sure in the back of Tim’s mind that gives him a little peace.

Then comes one of the best parts of the episode for them. In not so many words this scene is Tim revealing something. Showing Lucy he cares about her in the most Tim way possible. He voices in a much kinder way his fears from earlier in the ep. That yes she’s only 30 days from the finish line. What scares him is when she crosses it he won’t be there to keep her from washing out anymore. 'Or worse...' The way she looks at him when he says this *heart clutch* Tim Bradford speak for I don’t want to lose you.

He solidifies it by reinforcing yeah he’s going to be tough on her. That is a straight fact. Then rolls a compliment into it as well. (How far we’ve come. *wipes tear*) Tells Lucy he’s only doing that because he KNOWS she can handle it. No one one knows her better than he does. No one will ever look out for her best interests better than he will. Or will prepare her the way he can. He only has 30 days left with her. Tim is going to make her as sharp as possible. So he can let her go when the time comes. Only way he will have peace of mind is if he does it this way.

Lucy’s reactions says it all. Beaming a little as she explains how sweet it is. She knows how he struggles with his emotions. That he tends to show them through actions rather than words. The fact that he told her this means so much. Tim in a roundabout way, told her he cares so much for her he’s afraid losing her after they're no longer riding together. That he can't protect her anymore after that. So he’s going to do everything in his power to safeguard her from this jobs worst moments and possibilities like today.

She makes sure he knows how 'oddly sweet' she finds his words. Tim is trying to bite back a smile above. That sunshine of hers seeping in just a little bit more. Trying to be a grump and be like 'That's not what I meant' when that's exactly what he meant. Revealing more cracks in that emotional wall of his. God I love it so Much.

Lucy continues on and says he’s not the one she’s mad at right now. That’s she’s used to Tim. Then he does something S1 Tim would be appalled at. Gives her advice on her personal life. Doing it not to please her or get her to stop talking. But because he genuinely cares about her. Giving me all the feels in this one. My shipper heart may implode.

Tells her Emmett is a fireman. So naturally they’re idiots LOL He makes Lucy smile in a way only he can. Tim forges on saying they mean well and Emmett is a 'not bad fireman'. Tells her not to write him off just yet. That he meant well by it. Look at our boy. I’m legit beaming with pride as I write this. How far this man has come in 2 seasons hell just this season alone. Leaps and bounds all due to the the sunshine human to his right.

Lucy being herself can’t help but rib him about this. That the reason he’s giving her this advice is cause they’re friends. Honestly yeah. At this point they are. S1 finale was the start of the friends foundation but they weren't there yet. It was the beginning of that deeper bond of theirs and we’re nearing the end of s2. All that foundation has now been laid. The fruits of it are they are friends now.

Best part of this section Is he doesn’t even deny it really. He scoffs a little af first (denial isn’t just a river in Egypt Tim) but concedes at the end. The light in his eyes and the crooked smile. You know this man is happy to be considered her friend. Her confidant. Once again Eric saying so god damn much with so little. I’ll never be over how good he is with that. Like ever. Could go on for miles and miles but I won’t do that to you all haha That wraps up their scenes together in this one. SO much good content thought. Oh my lord.

Sadly Chris passes away and Jackson is distraught. Lucy being there for Jackson is so sweet. Taking care of her business with Emmett but putting him first. I love their friendship. I do admire he came over to apologize and say he was wrong. Saying she’s the strongest woman he knows. That the last thing she needs is a protector. Well you as her protector yes. sorry Emmett lol That role is not meant to be yours. She has her fierce protector already. Tim is that but her emotional protector first and foremost. I mean he would smash a dude's face in for her LOL but she doesn't need that. That's it for this one. Such a good episode for them I can not.

~~~~

Side notes-Non Chenford

Longer than normal cause the entire episode is so good. The Chenford would’ve been enough but the ep being so good on top of it I’m happy.

Angela seeing Smitty’s cam footage LOL he’s such an idiot and we all love him haha sadly how she finds out Erin Cole is a dirty cop though. Or one of them…

The whole SL with Chris, Derians and Armstrong it’s so solid and stressful to watch baha his SL was shocking when I watched it the first time. Watching this squeaky clean cop fall from grace and become a dirty cop. Tragic af but compelling as hell.

Rewatching it through the eyes of knowing you can see how much he was giving away in his scenes. So sad the ending for Cole. Debt erasure is a huge motivator for most it’s truly so sad.

Watching John and Grace continue to fall apart sucks. I truly liked them more so than him and Bailey TBH. Their chemistry was evident.

Harper thanking John for all his help in getting her kid back. That she wouldn’t be here if not for him. The impact he had. Such growth for her. Since day one she has marched toward growth and where she is now. I adore her arc and how far she has come in this moment. Such an overall amazing episode. Hell of an ep before the finale.

Thank you all for the continued support through likes/comment and reblogs. Means more than I can ever say. Our next ep is the finale. Woo. I’ll see you all then :)

[sapphic-woes]

When You Met Her pt. 2

A/N: Thank you guys sm for the encouragement, I was real nervous posting the first chapter so I'm so happy it was well received! Every tag was dear to my heart <3 Anyways, onto Sevika's pov. MINORS DNI

Word Count: 1k. AO3 Link

___________

Sevika doesn't know what to do with you.

The–her omega is sound asleep. You look almost peaceful. No fear contorting your face. No horrible shaking. Viktor cleaned you up and treated what he could, but even he was shocked by your condition.

Seven years.

Sevika wants to gag. Most omegas trapped as illegal sex slaves lasted a year. Two if they were lucky. The x-rays done on you make her see red, broken bones and fractures all poorly healed. Bruises cover your body from head to toe. Even asleep, the bitter smell of fear clings to your body as if it were permanent, and Sevika can feel her blood boil. 

She wants to rip every alpha who ever touched you to shreds. You were her mate, her fated person, and yet you were tortured for so long, and only now was Sevika able to save you.

Is it too late? Viktor said they'd gotten you high on shimmer. From the marks, they'd drugged you with the heat inducer countless times. It was no wonder you didn't smell sweet to Sevika despite being on the drug, probably used to its effects by now. Luckily shimmer wasn't addictive, but it fucked with an omega's heat cycle badly. The longer the use, the harder it was to get back to a natural pattern.

However, what had really affected Sevika was when Viktor said you were her bond. 

Mates were made through either bonds or claims. Claims were more common, and could happen between any of the designations. However, bonds were extremely rare, and only occurred through alphas and omegas. They were intense and primal, driven by instinct more than anything. Sevika had only met one bonded couple in her life, and that was Caitlyn's parents.

"Damn. You stink." Vi's mocking tone has Sevika rolling her eyes. Her right hand soldier saunters into the room, hair wet after scrubbing all the scents of the brothel off her body. Sevika knew exactly why Vi was so quick to shower–Caitlyn was the type to get possessive when the smell of another alpha was on Vi–whether it was from an operation or not. 

Too many times Vi went home soaked in pheromones only to call in "sick" the next day. Now, Sevika finally understood what drove Caitlyn to react like that, and they were only a claimed couple. When the level-headed leader inhaled the thick scent of various alphas stuck to your body…

It made her jaw lock, to put it lightly.

This bond would be her undoing. Sevika was usually more in control of her emotions. She had to be in her line of work–specializing in uncovering the illegal exploitation of omegas. It was a job with sleepless nights and little results, but tonight had been better. 

Shutting down that infamous underground brothel was definitely the highlight of her unit's last month. But when she'd sensed a sliver of your scent under all that fear and found you? When she'd seen what they'd done to you?

"Can you blame me?" Sevika mutters, and the smirk on Vi's face falls.

"No. Looking over her file…she's a worse case than most. Dunno how she's even alive." The beta shrugs, cracking her knuckles, "if it was Caitlyn, I'd be seeing red."

"She'd be seeing red." Sevika snorts.

"Same thing." Vi shoots her a pointed glare. "Look, I'm just saying that with the condition she was in and the fact that she's your bond?  It's a miracle you only beat that alpha up. I was expecting you to go on a rampage." Sevika shakes her head.

"I would have if you hadn't stopped me. If she wasn't–if she didn't react like I'd hurt her–" Sevika finds her throat choking up, and Vi places a hand on her shoulder for comfort. Her calming scent helps to cool the alpha down, though Sevika is still on edge. 

"...It'll be a while before she can recognize that your anger isn't dangerous for her. You know how bad the abuse can get." Sevika's lips press into a thin line. She nods once, then twice. Then she nods with a hand pinching the bridge of her nose and her other at her hip, restlessly pacing.

"I know. But fuck. I'm not meant for this part. Rehabilitation is what your girl is good at. What Vander and Mel can do easy. But me? I find them, I bring them back here. End of story. I don't help them heal. I don't stay." Vi sighs.

"Sev. She's already scenting you." The alpha groans.

"I can see that. Shit–believe me, I noticed that. It felt so right, and I was proud knowing my scent helped her calm down, let alone sleep."  Vi raises an eyebrow.

"So what's the issue again? Most omegas in her position would do anything to get away from an unfamiliar alpha. You have, like, a headstart dude." At Sevika's exasperated stare, Vi snorts.

"It's not like you don't have us to help guide you. Plus Sev…" the beta looks up with a small smile, reassuring her team leader.

"You aren't going to hurt her. Not with that attitude. So try a little bit, okay? She needs you." Sevika swallows. She's certain the sound is loud enough to echo in the room. She isn't the gentle type. She's a dominant alpha in every sense of the term. Her aggression, strength, and stature make her a damn near unbeatable opponent. Adding the natural desire to control she has, there's little Sevika can't do.

But this?

You're frail. So small under the blankets of the hospital bed, tiny breaths making her check over and over again that you're even alive. How can she come near you? Let alone be your mate? 

"I…I'm gonna report to Vander." Refusing to answer Vi, Sevika walks out of the room. She ignores the beta's loud, obnoxious sigh, head pounding with the stress of the night's events.

[ravenbloodshot]

Hi! Can you do Twice members best to worst energy/aura like you did with Day6 and BTOB please? Thank you

1. Chaeyoung

2. Mina

3. Sana

4. Dahyun

5. Jihyo

6. Tzuyu

7. Jeongyeon

8. Momo + Nayeon

Chaeyoung: she's just a cool chick. Really chill, really outgoing and open minded. Doesn't let a lot of negativity get to her, thinks outside the box and is okay being different from others. She gives valley girl vibes

Mina: She has her mental issues, but something about her seems confident (she has the duality of being unsure/reserved and being confident/assertive). I think she's low-key a big flirt and more easygoing than she seems

Sana: I just like her. She's also a big flirt, type of person to know what it takes to get what she wants. Not afraid to put herself out there or garner attention. Although I do feel like she's the type to be really scary when upset. I doubt she gets angry easily but when she does, you don't want to mess with her

Dahyun: she seems very reserved, conservative , and a perfectionist. She could be quite the overthinker, constantly second-guessing herself. But she does give very motherly, kind vibes to me. Type of person to get enjoyment for caring for others, like a mom smiling at her babies while they eat her cooking . Definitely wifey material

Jihyo: she has a lot of insecurities and may get into relationships with men that don't treat her right. Idky I feel like she's the most likely to settle down with a guy she supports financially/emotionally/mentally. The other girls give off "rich men only" tease(besides Dahyun and her), but she may settle for less than she deserves.

Tzuyu: VERY dark energy. Quite insecure as well. She seems like she's constantly drowning in her own misery. For some reason, I get a vibe that her parents are to blame for why she is the way she is. Like a girl constantly told to not show emotion/react, don't show anything less than perfection. She reminds me of Elsa. "Conceal, don't feel."

Jeongyeon: A LOT of insecurities and dark thoughts as well. I wouldn't be surprised if she gets a lot of plastic surgery or something. Especially if she begins to lose her fame or she settles down. She does seem quite strongheaded and tough (but she may deep down get scared easily). Like someone who puts up a brave front.

Momo + Nayeon: These two give off Regina George vibes. Minus the senseless disrespect of others just for the fun of it. No. I think they both can be cruel, but for reason, even if the reason doesn't make them look good. I get very catty/shady/backstabbing energy from these two. I would say Momo's energy is a bit better than Nayeon's. Momo seems like the type to stop her behavior if she gets called out on it. While Nayeon is just who she is (I do respect how much Nayeon knows who she is, what she's about, and how to get what she wants). I think Nayeon is unapologetically her, and even if I think she's mean at times, I can't help but respect her strongmindedness.