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laurfilijames · 1 month

Text

Breathe

Part 7

Pairing: Will 'Ironhead' Miller x female reader

Words: 6.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Trauma/PTSD/nightmares/insomnia. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: Unanswered questions amp up every emotion that time does nothing to lessen, and so much uncertainty raises the concern if everything will turn out okay or if moving on is the only answer.

A/N: Less hurt than the last chapter, I promise! Thank you to everyone who was so enthusiastic and responsive to it and made all that angst worth writing!

Photo by @avatarskingdom and edited by me. Please do not use without permission or credit. Headers by the wonderful @spaghettificationandpretzels!

Chapter Playlist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

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You felt numb as much as you felt angry, scared and heartbroken.

It was all still so surreal, having to remind yourself constantly that Will broke up with you and was gone, the persistent sick feeling in your stomach growing with every thought of his life being at risk and that even though he was no longer yours, you might never see him again.

You did everything you could to understand his side of things, but with that your frustration increased wildly, the fact that he hadn't even given you the chance to be there for him stinging almost as much as him abandoning what you knew, or thought, you had.

Did he really believe you wouldn’t support him, that you didn’t care enough about him to give him space and time while he dealt with all the things he needed to, that your love for him simply wasn’t enough for him to want to hold onto while he was deployed, that everything you thought you had been building was broken and false?

The toaster popped, shooting your slice of bread out, making you jump after forgetting you were even waiting for it.

You ate because you had to, but food tasted bleak and flavourless, and everything that landed in your stomach felt like it sat there and made your nausea even worse.

You had made a whole lasagna earlier just because, giving you something to do for the better part of an hour, but the thought of eating it was so unappealing and you had the idea that maybe you would drop it off for Benny. Taking a bite out of the plain piece of toast, you thought how awful it might feel to go over to the Miller’s house right now, and decided against it, opting to freeze the lasagna for another time instead.

Another bite and the toast was in the trash, and you stood in the middle of your kitchen unmoving, not sure what to do with yourself next.

You hadn’t slept, and whether it was fatigue or just your grief pummeling you, you broke down and sobbed, your body shaking as the memory of Will holding you in his arms in this very spot flooded you, dancing one night while in the middle of cleaning up dinner, pausing almost anything in favour of stealing a piece of each other.

Work was a welcomed distraction, forcing you to go through the motions and function like everything was normal, able to allow you to bury your emotions for the course of a shift and nearly forget about what had happened, only to have it all come back the moment you got in your car and started your drive home, knowing you had nothing to look forward to.

You hadn’t been back to the gym since the day you saw both brothers there all beat up from their brawl with each other, your body too exhausted and weak to even consider working out, but as you sat at your kitchen table with nothing else to do, you went and changed into your gym clothes and drove over.

It was busy enough, observing the evening crowd enough to keep you entertained as you walked on the Stair Master, each step automatic and absent-minded.

Through a few people and machines you spotted Benny, resting on a bench between sets of chest presses, his smile and slightly awkward wave making you feel equally so, and as he stood and started weaving his way over to you, you felt bad that he probably felt obligated to talk to you.

You stopped the machine and stepped down, grabbing your things in the assumption you would probably feel like leaving after this conversation, your water bottle shaking in your hand that trembled with nerves and adrenaline.

“Hey,” Benny said, somewhat hesitantly.

“Hey, Benny,” you answered, smoothing your hand over your sweaty hair.

“How’re you doing?”

You sighed, looking down at the floor as you shook your head. “Do you want the fake answer or the honest one?”

Benny huffed a laugh in understanding. “You look like shit.”

You laughed out of disbelief, bringing yourself to look at him as he scratched his head and tried to recover.

“I mean- fuck.”

“No, I look like shit. Feel like it too,” you confirmed, reassuring his observations.

“Are you looking after yourself?” he asked, his face full of concern.

You shrugged, “As much as I can, I guess.”

He nodded, sympathetic to your feelings. “Are you eating? Sleeping?”

“Here and there. Not much of both if I’m honest.”

“Yeah, I get it. Just do your best even though it’s hard.”

You hummed. “Does it get any easier?”

He tilted his head a bit. “Does what get easier?”

“The worry, the waiting…”

“Oh, uh…” he pulled his ball cap up off his head, smoothed his hair back and placed it back on again, this time backwards. “Yeah, I guess we all just get used to it in a way. But I’d be lying if I said that everyday you’re half expecting to get that phone call…”

He saw the tears in your eyes well to the surface, and unlike most times, Benny felt a bit speechless.

“I can’t stop thinking about him,” you admitted, your words not even directed at Benny, but rather said aloud simply because you couldn’t keep them in.

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you went on, wiping your eyes and shaking your head like it would suddenly shake away your feelings. “I’m gonna get going, see you later.”

“Yeah, of course,” Benny responded, his voice soft. “Hey,” he called after you, making you pause and turn half-way to face him.

“Just don’t give up on him yet.”

You gave a weak smile. “I couldn’t if I wanted to.”

You made it to your car before you really fell apart, the tears coming down your face so hot and fast you could barely see to unlock the door, and when you flopped down into the seat, you rested your head against the steering wheel and wept.

The most overwhelming sense of panic came over you, taking control over everything and trapping you in it, your mind racing with every horrible thought imaginable, and before you could realize, your breathing had turned short and gasping, your mouth desperately trying to suck in air between sobs.

Your hands wrapped around yourself, squeezing you tighter than the grip of the anxiety attack was, feeling your whole body shaking and trembling and all you wanted to do was scream.

That was when Will’s soothing voice popped in your head, urging you to focus on your breaths and count each one, the sound of the numbers in his even tone allowing you to stop the panic, and you began counting out loud until your breathing eventually leveled out.

How could the same person who was the reason you were feeling this way manage to help calm you, you thought, exhaling slowly as everything around you started to come into focus again.

You ran your hands over your face, your body still shaking with each inhalation though they had become more regular, knowing that as much as you were hurt and betrayed, you still loved Will more than you could imagine loving anything.

Benny’s phone rang not thirty seconds after he’d just hung up, Will’s number lighting up his screen suspiciously close to him ending his conversation with Tom.

He pressed the green button to answer it, and before he could even get out a ‘hey’, Will’s voice stopped him.

“Are you checking up on me?”

“Uhh-”

“I heard Redfly talking to you, idiot.”

Benny scratched his head, trying to gauge which way this was about to go.

“If you’re wondering how I am, just ask me, Ben.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes that’s easier said than done,” he quipped, recalling how many forced conversations they’d had lately where Will gave short, vague answers to everything.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Benny sighed, lifting his arm up in exasperation before letting it fall and hit his side, “I dunno, man, I just thought I’d get a truthful answer out of Redfly over you. He’s with you every day and can tell how you are.”

He heard Will sigh, and Benny took the pause as a chance to give his brother the opportunity to tell him for himself.

“So, how are you, then?”

Will sighed heavily again. “I don’t fucking know anymore. Okay, I guess?” he said, his uncertainty clear.

“Tom said things are going well with the op, and despite it all you seem like you’ve got your head in the game.”

“Yeah, that’s all fine,” Will explained, like his role as a Captain on this tour was the least of his worries. “It’s everything else…”

“Yeah…” Benny agreed, holding space for Will to continue.

“How’s she doing? Have you seen her?”

“Saw her at the gym yesterday,” Benny said carefully, trying to decide if it would be better or worse to tell him she wasn’t doing well, but ultimately knowing if he wanted Will to be honest, he would have to be too. “She’s not doing good, man.”

Will was silent, making Benny pull the phone away from his ear to check if the call had dropped or not.

“I can’t believe I did this to her,” he said quietly.

“Yeah, well,” Benny said flatly, “What’s done is done, now you just have to focus on finishing this job and getting back home so you can fix it.”

“Do you think there will be anything left to fix?”

Benny blew the air out of his mouth slowly. “That’s up to you two. If you both want it to work out…”

“That’s what I’m worried about. By the time I get back she’ll have moved on and learned to hate me.”

“You don’t know that,” Benny countered. Able to tell the expression that would be on Will’s face right now, he continued. “She still loves you man.”

“I wish she didn’t. She deserves better, not this shit…”

Benny’s heart ached for his brother, hating that he was going through this on top of being back in action, praying his stress didn’t get the better of him or be the cause of any fatal mistakes.

“Listen, man, I gotta go,” Will spoke, his voice weak and quiet.

“Yeah, okay. Be careful out there.”

“Always.”

The beep of the call ending sounded in Benny’s ear before there was even the chance to consider saying anything else, and he hoped Will would hang onto the thought that maybe it wasn’t all lost yet.

Days turned into weeks, but the amount of time that was passing didn’t help to make things feel any better, making you wonder every day if it would ever stop hurting.

Anger grew as you wracked your brain combing through every detail of every conversation and act that could've led to this, wondering where it was that you went wrong, but you still couldn’t pinpoint the moment Will gave up on loving you or what it was that made him peel away. It almost hurt just as much as him being gone did, unable to know what the cause was so you could try to rectify it and simply get closure as to why it ended, your heart like an open wound that would never heal.

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time before exiting your room, on your way to meet two of your girlfriends for a quiet drink, your attempts to refuse unaccepted.

You couldn’t deny that it would possibly help get your mind off of Will, but you knew it was futile as everything you did and everywhere you went, he was there.

“That guy can’t stop looking over here at you,” Grace said through a grin as she nudged you with her elbow, and you twisted in your chair slightly to follow her gaze.

You took a sip of your wine as you assessed the man with dark brown hair and brown eyes staring directly at you, his smile bright and clean, his lips plump and inviting.

You said nothing as you turned back to your friends, raising your eyebrows as if that was a response that would appease anyone.

“Come on, he’s gorgeous!” Nicole urged, tilting her head indignantly.

“I never said he wasn’t!” you defended, but in your head all you could think was how he wasn’t Will.

“You need a rebound fuck,” Grace suggested, and the thought made your stomach flip.

“I’m not ready for any of that yet,” you admitted, hoping they would understand how raw everything still felt.

“We know,” Nicole sympathized, giving your hand a squeeze as she placed hers overtop, and you knew they would support you in anything whether it was continuing to miss Will with every part of your being or hooking up with the next man who walked by.

“Oh shit, he’s coming over,” Grace blurted, adjusting in her seat as a wide smile appeared on her face.

Your heart plummeted in your gut, and you sighed, praying this wouldn’t be as horribly awkward as you were expecting it to be, trying to find the energy to be kind and cordial despite not wanting to.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” a deep, smooth voice purred behind you, and you felt the demand of his presence as he stood beside your chair.

His eyes were even more alluring up close, and his crooked smirk was equally charming as it was sexy, the dark scruff around his mouth complimenting his olive complexion.

You swallowed, feeling unable to find words, and with a low chuckle, it prompted him to continue.

“I couldn’t help but want to come over to say hi and introduce myself.” He spoke with such confidence, his voice so seductive. “I’m Cam.”

He held out his hand for you to shake, and you did, feeling your hand tremble slightly before he took it in a firm grip and moved it up and down once on your behalf.

You introduced yourself as well as Nicole and Grace who you wanted to kick under the table for how they were gawking at him, but not as much as you wanted to crawl under it to hide away as he pulled out a chair from the empty table beside yours and took a seat.

“Can I get you ladies another round?”

“Oh, yes please!” the girls chimed, seeming completely enthusiastic about him joining you.

You assessed his hand for any ring as he waved the waitress over, requesting for the same drinks to be brought to the table, feeling relieved there was no band wrapped around his ring finger, but something about him still felt off to you.

He’s not Will, your mind reminded you, and you took a long drink of your wine to try to swallow the sour feeling stirring in your gut.

It was comfortable enough talking to him, even catching yourself laughing at some of the things he said and genuinely having a good time, but every time you felt yourself liking something about him, there was one thing you found you didn’t.

He’s not Will.

You found yourself lost in his chocolate eyes as he spoke to you, imagining instead they were clear blue and held a brightness that reflected the love you had learned to see shine through them, only to be reminded that that wasn’t something that existed for you anymore, and you blinked back to the reality you faced.

“Would it be too forward of me if I asked for your number?” Cam asked, his eyebrows raising on his forehead in a hopeful, but confident expression.

“Hm, yeah, sure,” you replied, picking his phone up from the table that he slid over to you and typed your number into a text message along with your name, sending it to yourself.

“I’ll call you,” he said, standing from his seat where he continued to smile at you.

Your eyes followed him as he walked over to the bar to pay his tab, feeling something stir in you as he looked back over his shoulder at you one last time before he sauntered out of the bar, everything about him charming and gorgeous.

But he wasn’t Will.

“Are you going to go out with him?” Nicole asked excitedly, the looks on both your friend’s faces confusing you like you missed something they hadn’t.

“Umm,” you pondered, trying to wrap your head around the situation, the three glasses of wine making your head feel fuzzy. “I- I don’t know.”

You felt like crying, feeling a sense of guilt and anxiety bubble up in you, like you were betraying Will and being unfaithful despite the reminder that he wasn’t yours slapping you in the face and twisting your heart in your chest.

A few days had passed since your night out with the girls, and as expected, a text from Cam had come through asking to take you for dinner, the invitation sitting ignored and unresponded to in your messages.

Every time you opened your phone to reply, you would see Will’s name a few spots down from Cam’s, the contrast between them and what was past and what was present making you wish more than ever that you could go back in time and try to mend whatever it was that took Will away from you.

You didn't recall ever being so irritable, your temper short and your patience gone, a toss up whether you would scream or cry at the drop of a hat becoming the daily gamble.

The gym didn’t even seem to allay these frustrations, and as you tried to adjust the height of the rack bracket and it got stuck, you felt that blanket of red creeping up through you.

Cursing under your breath, you wiggled the pin again and again, tugging and jostling it to try to get it to move, the clanking of the metal against metal drawing attention over to you by prying, judging eyes.

“Need help?”

You sighed with relief, hearing the familiar voice that belonged to Benny, closing your eyes and counting your breaths as he stepped in and adjusted it for you.

“Thank you,” you muttered, avoiding meeting his eyes as shame washed over you.

“You alright?”

You forced the air out of your lungs again, still not meeting his piercing gaze.

“I'm just so angry and there's nothing I can do about it,” you admitted, your tone defeated.

“I understand that,” Benny drawled, leaning against the squat rack.

You felt him studying you, almost as if he was debating saying something.

“He asks about you every time I talk to him…”

It felt like the wind was knocked right out of you, and somehow you managed to speak.

“He does?”

Your bewilderment seemed to confuse Benny, his face screwed up as he looked at you like it was the most obvious and normal thing.

“Yeah?”

You covered your face with your hands, letting out a growl that did nothing to signify your frustration at the situation.

“I still don’t know what I did wrong. He stopped staying the night and became more and more distant each time I saw him…” You paused briefly, trying to put your thoughts in order. “Then he just stopped altogether and the next time we spoke he ended it, and now you’re saying he asks about me?”

“He didn’t tell you about his nightmare?” Benny asked, his shock blatant.

You shook your head, your brows knitted tightly together. “No?”

Benny sighed and rolled his eyes, shifting on his feet as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Jesus Christ…okay,” he groaned, exasperated by his brother’s ability to consistently make things worse.

You stood there unmoving as Benny explained what had happened, going over all the details Will had told him of his nightmare and his reactions to it, and you felt cold despite having worked up a sweat from what you had done in your routine already.

“I told him he wouldn't actually hurt you but he was so messed up from it. I think it was days before he managed to sleep after that,” Benny said, his tone sad. “I've only seen him that distraught after a nightmare a couple times before.”

“Why wouldn’t he have said anything to me?” you asked, your voice a whisper.

Benny shrugged, “I think he was scared. And then knowing he was leaving on top of it…it was just too much for him.”

You nodded, rubbing your hands on your arms for some sort of comfort, feeling like your heart was breaking all over again, but this time for Will rather than because of him.

“I’m not making excuses for him,” Benny went on, leaning with his arms up on the barbell that hung across the rack. “I don’t agree with what he did, I just know how messy things can get in that head of his, and as his brother I kinda always have to have his back, but it doesn't mean I’m on his side.”

You nodded, at a loss for words as your mind tried to process everything.

It was a helpless feeling, having some sort of understanding now but unable to do anything about it, wondering if you should send Will a message or have Benny pass one along, but all you wanted to tell him was you loved him and that was probably something he didn’t need right now.

“Thanks for telling me,” you said softly, all of your anger replaced with sadness and worry, your heart aching in your chest.

Time continued to pass but did nothing to heal, each day marking another one gone without a word between you and Will, leaving you more unclear than ever at what to do, feeling that if he wanted anything to do with you, he would’ve reached out by now.

Not wanting to put Benny in the middle of it, you never once asked him to interfere or treated him as a messenger, only asking how his brother was doing when he hadn’t told you on his own and thankful that he usually would provide an update anyway knowing you were wondering.

The last time you saw the younger Miller you had dropped off a week’s worth of food, having prepped a variety of high fat and carb meals, helping to get him ready for his upcoming fights in a new weight class.

Cooking for Benny was just the type of distraction you needed, feeling useful and productive and able to put this latent energy into something good for someone else, offering to make his meals for him each week so he didn’t have to worry about his nutrition while focusing on his training.

He had told you as he helped unload all the food from your car that Will was due to return home soon, a matter of days or weeks but there was no exact date yet, and every time you went to the gym or to the grocery store, you braced yourself for a run-in with the man you couldn’t stop thinking about.

You finished washing your face and brushing your teeth, checking your phone one last time before leaving it on your dresser for the night, never getting used to the disappointment you felt at not seeing a sweet message from Will like you used to whenever he wasn’t with you, and still holding hope that whenever it did buzz with a text, it would be Benny saying Will was back.

Your anxiousness was getting the better of you, feeling like it was worsening each day to the point you were struggling to sleep even more than what had now become your normal, never resting for more than a couple of hours at a time if you were lucky.

So many things passed through your mind in those hours spent awake, some of which consisted of that outstanding offer for a date with Cam, not declining it yet despite knowing it was something you didn’t want anything to do with. Nicole and Grace would still bring it up whenever you talked but didn’t put any pressure on you, both of them knowing deep down you were happiest with Will, and you weren’t about to jeopardize any remaining chance with him until you knew for sure that there was an absolute finality to your relationship.

Not feeling tired but knowing you needed to try to sleep, you crawled into bed, nestling yourself under the covers on the side that Will used to occupy, closing your eyes in hopes your mind would drum up the memory of his arms wrapped around you.

You knew you shouldn't do it, knowing it wasn't helping you move on and that some might deem it unhealthy, but every time you laid in bed you imagined him with you and it was becoming the only thing that would get you to sleep.

It had been your haven; the warmth of his body and your limbs tired and wonderfully achy from sex providing all the comfort you needed to drift off, both of you usually able to sleep soundly with the exception of Will having the occasional nightmare until his mind plagued him with the one that he couldn’t get past.

How could it be so wrong to go back to a time when a version of you didn't haunt his dreams, when you had brought each other nothing but love and understanding and a sense of safety and security? You kept replaying what Benny had told you about his nightmare over and over, the sense of guilt you had over it working to torture you just as much as the dream tormented Will.

You sighed, squeezing your eyelids tight, doing everything in your power to recall the feel of his lips on your neck, his breath ghosting over your skin as he wished you goodnight, his beard scratching against you in the most addicting way as he tucked his face as close to yours as he could.

Tears started to spring from your eyes the harder you shut them, thinking how you would give it all up in a heartbeat so Will could be happy and live a life with all of his worries put at ease even if it meant you couldn’t be a part of it.

Will picked at the frayed laces on his boot as he listened to the dial tone, one leg bent to rest on his knee while waiting for Benny to pick up, excited to share the news that he was flying home tomorrow and to get an update on Benny’s training, knowing he had been working hard to put on the last few pounds needed to put him in the Light Heavyweight class.

“Sup, bro?” he finally answered, out of breath.

“Hey, Ben. You running?”

“Just in the middle of some light spars. Got my first fight tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, buddy!” he hollered, his excitement palpable through the phone.

“That’s awesome, Benny,” Will praised, proud of his brother for reaching his goal.

“How’re you doing?” Benny panted.

“I’m okay,” he paused, planting his foot down so both were on the ground and scratching his head. “Coming in tomorrow.”

“Fuck, seriously?”

“Yeah…”

“Shit. The fight is in Fort Myers, I can’t pick you up, man.”

Will tried his best to disguise his disappointment, his leg bouncing as he tried to level his voice.

“It’s fine, I’ll take a cab or get Redfly to drop me off,” he suggested, knowing he wouldn’t even ask his friend since Tom would be so eager to be reunited with his girls.

Benny sighed, “You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I’m just sorry I’ll miss that fight.”

“There will be more, don’t worry,” he assured. “Safe flight home, eh?”

“Thanks Benny. Good luck tomorrow. Knock ‘em dead.”

Benny chuckled, “Yeah, I will. See you soon, bro.”

Will ended the call and sat for a minute, the bit of excitement he felt about coming home diminished, feeling a sense of dejection that he officially had no one there for him.

He considered all of his options, the thought of reaching out to you even crossing his mind, but knew that he couldn’t and he would just have to settle for whatever warm welcome the cab driver wouldn’t provide him.

He blew air out of his mouth slowly, starting to feel like he couldn't capture a proper breath, closing his eyes as the sense of self-inflicted and well-deserved dread he was now accustomed to consumed him.

One, two, three…he counted, the numbers switching from the sound of his own voice to yours, repeating them with each breath in and out until he secured a consistent pattern.

Tomorrow.

You knew what it meant without any other context, the single word appearing on your screen from Benny making your heart jump into your throat, and you grabbed the edge of the countertop behind you with shaky hands as you leaned against it.

He had promised to tell you when he knew for sure and here it was, the day you had hoped for for so long, but one you were also terrified for.

Will was coming home.

As a slew of emotions ran through you, it dawned on you that his arrival happened to be on the same day as Benny’s fight, and you wondered if that meant anyone would be there to welcome him home.

You picked up your phone to reply to Benny, thinking of asking him who was planning to pick Will up from base, but as soon as you started typing the message, you hit the arrow to delete it, putting your phone back down on the counter.

It wasn’t your business, you told yourself, fighting every urge to make it yours, the thought of Wil returning home from the hells he faced with no one there for him breaking your heart.

You figured you were the last person he would want to see anyway, and knowing you had the potential to send him even more over the edge made you feel sick, thinking of how much had changed from when you were the one who used to bring him peace.

The flight was long, and it felt like every muscle in Will’s body ached as he walked off the plane and waited to board the bus that would bring them to the base station, feeling so close but still so far from being home.

There was continuous chatter around him, the excitement of all the soldiers about reuniting with their loved ones making Will feel happy and sad at the same time, and he did his best to seem enthused when asked if he was looking forward to going home.

He checked his phone more times than he needed to, having sent Benny a text that he had landed to which he responded with a thumbs up emoji, part of him hoping that there would be something from you, only to remember he didn’t deserve any grace for his actions.

He was getting everything he deserved, he thought as he pressed his head back against the headrest after sitting down, sighing out slowly while closing his eyes, finding it amusing that being alone was something he was both looking forward to and completely dreading.

It wasn’t long before the bus arrived at base, and Will remained in his seat until everyone else had gotten off, not wanting his fellow troops who were so eager to hold their loved ones to be held up by him who was only going to wait for a fucking cab.

He slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way through people hugging, a weak smile forming on his lips in seeing one of his friends holding his newborn baby, and not far off did he watch Tom embrace both of his daughter’s in his arms, picking them up and swinging them around until they were screaming with delight.

After making his way to the doors, he pulled out his phone and looked up the number for a taxi, rubbing his other hand over his tired eyes roughly, praying it wouldn’t take long for one to show up.

The area he stood in was quiet with everyone else still lingering behind, but he glanced up when he noticed a couple walking past hand-in-hand, pausing to steal a kiss.

Will was about to hit the number to dial for Taxi Tampa when he looked up again, his eyes landing on a familiar face and one he couldn’t forget even if he tried.

You had just walked in and were stopped in your tracks as you noticed him at the same time, your face a mix of so many emotions that Will could hardly pick one out.

You gave a small shrug and shook your head, silently explaining that you didn’t really know what you were doing there, and Will all but choked as he tried to take a breath, his shock in seeing you completely overwhelming.

He dropped his bag and let his phone fall on top of it, stepping toward you in purposeful strides, his eyes welling up just the same as yours were.

“I wasn’t sure if I should even come but…I had to show up for you,” you shook out, Will’s hands reaching to cup your face, his thumbs smoothing your cheeks as tears started to fall down them.

He nodded in response, unable to say anything, his own tears breaking their threshold as you grabbed onto his forearms, rubbing them through his shirt as he continued to hold onto you.

He pulled you into a hug, relieved when you embraced him just as hard, feeling himself relax into you, his face nuzzling your head.

“I’m sorry,” he cried, alternating his remorse with ‘thank you’ between pressing kisses onto your forehead and hair, your sobs making your body lurch against his.

Your hands pawed at his back, clawing at his fatigues like you were trying to hold onto him for good, and Will prayed with everything he had that you never would let go.

He wasn’t sure how long you stayed like that for, but he eventually felt himself calm down, relishing in holding you and being in your presence again, knowing he would do everything in his power to make every bit of hurt up to you.

Will inhaled deeply, letting it go slowly out of his mouth, feeling like he could finally breathe properly again after all this time.

It was surreal to be in his arms, his warm embrace something you missed more than you imagined you could have, the feel of his body on yours and his scent surrounding you so familiar.

His heartbeat thrummed in your ear as you continued to rest your face on his chest, hearing his breathing having evened out and realizing yours had done the same.

You reluctantly pulled away to look at him, still keeping your arms locked around his middle. “Should we get you home?”

Will’s mouth turned up on one side, his crooked smirk making you melt.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his hand falling to land on your lower back as you both turned to where his bag was left on the floor.

You expected a moment like this to feel awkward, but it was anything but, like you were learning each other all over again, standing in Will’s room with your arms around each other’s waist, your faces so close and your lips inches from touching.

Finally, Will leaned into you, softly pressing his lips on yours, making you hold your breath as you let your eyes close and kissed him back, a broken moan transferring into his mouth as you forced yourself to try to take in air again.

His hand ran across your back, pulling you close to him as he took a step into you, your shirt slipping up so his palm splayed out on your skin, that sensation alone making you shiver in addition to how good it felt to have his lips on yours again.

Kisses grew more intense as each second ticked by, only pausing when he lifted your shirt over your head, and despite feeling so desperate, you both continued to keep every touch slow and careful.

His fingers pinched the clasp of your bra together to release it, moving the straps down your shoulders until it fell from your body, returning his hands to your arms where he trailed his fingertips up them to your neck and then down to your bare chest.

You found the buttons on his shirt, blindly unfastening each one until you were able to peel it open, feeling his smooth chest and the defined muscles of his torso, his warmth radiating out onto you.

Will reached up to take hold of your face, angling your head to press his tongue deeper in your mouth, stealing every bit of air from you in the process.

Breathe, your mind begged, but kissing him was better than breathing.

The rough material of his fatigues brushed against your nipples, making your breath hitch in your throat even more, your body moving to rub against him again to replicate the feeling.

You were rid of your pants and underwear next, leaving you naked while Will remained in his uniform, but the intoxicating feel of your skin on his bare chest let him know that he needed to have as much skin-on-skin contact as possible, and he tore the garment off his upper body quickly before moving to his pants.

Once you were bared to each other, you returned to your slow caresses, touching and exploring with light fingers and hands, your pleasure brought on purely by love.

You stopped kissing him for a moment, teasing your lips on his until you managed to whisper, your voice thick with lust.

“I need you, Will. I need you inside me.”

His nose nudged your cheek as he agreed with the nod of his head, his hands clasping your face again like he feared if he went too long without kissing you, you would vanish.

He took your hand and led you to the bed, sitting down on it and shifted back slightly where you followed, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, looking into his vibrantly blue eyes as he gazed at you lovingly.

His hands slid all along your back, bringing you closer to his body before they landed on your legs, guiding you to put them straight so they were behind him and you were seated flush against his lap.

You breathed out slowly as your forehead rested against his, feeling his cock settle at your folds, and when you moved your hips ever so slightly, you gasped at the sensation.

Will kissed along your jawline, his hands massaging your hips, ready to assist as you lifted yourself enough to reach between your bodies and take hold of his cock, guiding him to your entrance where you slowly sank onto his length.

Short, shuddered breaths were exchanged between you before you found each other’s lips again, and you gradually began to move together, finding a tempo that sang to you and helped display the love that had been missing.

Will held onto every part of you that he could, grasping at you as you rocked and rode him, his hips jutting up into yours in slow, meticulous thrusts to give you everything you needed, feeling your desperation grow while his did too.

Your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs above his cock, grinding until you were at the edge, the way your wet walls clenched around and encased him driving him to the brink what felt like faster than ever.

Even though you were both quick to arrive at your climaxes, nothing about it was rushed, savouring each movement to get there and not taking a single second for granted, every emotion felt transferred through your bodies.

Will kissed you hard, groaning into your mouth as he came undone, coating your walls and filling you completely with his hot cum that started to leak out of you as you continued to move on his shaft, your orgasm lagging just seconds behind.

Your fingers clawed at the back of his neck, scratching and digging into his flesh as your body took every bit of pleasure from him, the seal of your mouths breaking as you both panted for air, his head falling into the hollow of your neck while yours rested on the side of his, his hair soft on your cheek.

His mouth smeared wet across your collarbone as he moved his face, pressing sloppy, lazy kisses onto your skin as he continued to hold you close, feeling his chest and back expand and contract with each heavy breath while you kept your arms secured around him.

Will brought you with him as he laid down on his sheets, your bodies still connected, his fingertips tracing your hairline before he leaned toward you and kissed your lips again.

After a few more minutes of kissing, you tucked your face into his neck, your legs entwining with his, Will rolling over onto his back where he held your hand and brought it to rest on his chest.

A silent agreement seemed to settle between you to leave the talking until tomorrow, right now needing to simply be with each other, and like nothing had ever gone wrong, Will closed his eyes and fell asleep, his mind and body finding a peace he didn’t think he would ever have again.

---

Part 8

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls

@littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90

@paintlavillered @casa-boiardi @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02

@christinhunnam @hp-hogwartsexpress

#will miller #triple frontier #will miller x female reader #charlie hunnam #will miller x reader #will 'ironhead' miller #will miller smut #william miller #william 'ironhead' miller #charlie hunnam characters

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luffyvace · 8 months

Text

✌︎ Sitting in Zoro’s Lap hcs ✌︎

I just felt like doing these<3 I don’t usually do concepts and I’m testing out the waters so they’ll likely be short ;3 also I wanna do more than just relationship hcs bc it’ll be more fun ✌︎

enjoy zoro simps cuz y’all definitely be on my acc 💖

At first he feels it’s kinda pointless

like he’s thinking “why would you wanna sit on my lap?!—sit on a chair or- just- somewhere else!...even the floor or something idk?!!”

but however you somehow convince him to let you, whether that’s bribery (swords or alcohol), sitting on him anyway or schmoozing him over into letting you,

you did it!!

And that’s all that matters :)

he probably got tired of your relentless request and just let you eventually

While you sit on him he’s usually sleeping sitting up, drinking alcohol or just relaxing with his eyes closed

When you sit facing him it’s a little more comfortable for him

he prefers it that way

sometimes you lay your head on his shoulder/chest and fall asleep on him

he’ll scoff either way but he gets a bit annoyed if he was trying to do something that requires getting up

Like training for example

If he wasn’t too busy in the first place then he just scoffs and probably takes a nap himself

if he’s not tired he waits for you to get up

he doesn’t like to stir you from sleep but if it’s important like a ship attack he’s kinda rough about doing so- 😀

bro he basically yanks you up and yells your name

not because he’s trying to be mean 🤷‍♀️

Just the fact that if an attack comes your way you won’t be able to dodge—and protecting someone isn’t his thing when fighting, he always tells you to go hide if your weak

uh anyway 😗

When you sit with your back to his chest its comfy but like don’t be surprised if he picks you up and turns you around (i don’t wanna hear anyone saying they’re too heavy bc you obviously must not have seen the weights he lifts on a daily)

sitting like that’s kinda annoying bc having to crane your neck back and to the side is not fun 😬😀

plus you probably hit his jaw a lot-

Or things like

1) he bites his tongue

2) his teeth hit your head (and it hurts for both of you)

3) he spits his alcohol in your hair (when you hit his jaw with your head)

4) you hit your head on his nose

So yeah this position is less common for you guys

Bonus if your hair is long

then he gets his fingernails stuck to it too :)

he prefers you don’t sit on his lap in public

mostly because he doesn’t like the stares that come with it 💁‍♀️

he just feels awkward

If you once again somehow convince him to let you in public however…..

it’ll be the type where he man spreads and you sit on one leg facing him

that way he has a bit more space to move and one of his arms is free

just in case an attack comes that he needs to block

orrrrrr just for simply drinking alcohol 😋

on the merry/sunny he’s more likely to cave in

especially since it’s just the strawhats

unless they make fun of him or smth (especially robin) then he doesn’t mind as much

plus y’all can have some privacy in the crows nest most likely

ngl he pretty comfy to sit on

unless your really tall or smth he’s prob bigger than you

so it’s not like y’all are uncomfortable or squished

zoro after time skip is low key more comfy because you know that dark green coat he wears?

yeah it like bends to create a little chair when he manspreads

and idk if you know what I’m talking about but those who get it do 💗👍

Does he end up liking it?

yes :)

yes he does. :)

Im trying to branch out and do more concepts because it’s more interesting for me to write, and you to read so why not 😊

Hopefully my zoro stans enjoyed !! <3 ⚔️🗡

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be-my-ally · 2 years

Text

Let Yourself Go

Overstimulated Reader! Request.

my darling, what a dream request - thank you anon! for both your very kind words + excellent request!!! this has consumed my brain for the past week; I originally intended it to be short like 2.5-3k, and then it turned into 4k and then I realised that in all of those words elvis had only been treated once so it turned into 6k. so this is 6.7k of pure, absolute, filthy smut just for you that i really hope lives up your expectations!

summary: slightly innocent!reader is convinced girls can't really orgasm - elvis sets out to teach her how wrong she is.

pairing: afab!reader/elvis (big daddy e)

warnings: 18+, 18+, 18+, tiny bit of daddy kink, implied age difference, oral (p+v receiving), p in v sex, fingering, mirror sex, overstimulation, very brief spanking. I think that's it? Reader does attempt to stop the proceedings a couple of times and elvis doesn't stop but it is all consensual.

wc: 6.7k

suggested listening: the end of such a night + of course, let yourself go.

You’ve not been together very long and you were still learning about each other in many ways. It confused you a little that he, who you knew had girls throwing themselves at him, would take the time to bother to get to know you better. He’d picked you out of the crowd and put you on his lap in his dressing room before he’d even learnt your name. When you’d told him, earnestly, that you didn’t expect to be married or anything but you were a good girl, who wouldn’t sleep around, you’d expected him to tell you that he wasn’t going to see you again. But no, he’d put in the effort and here you were, a few weeks later, at Graceland of all places. You’d been brought back with him after his engagement at the International ended for this year, allowing him a short break before he resumed touring.

He’d taken you out on his bike earlier, showing you the sights of Memphis and you’d loved the rush, so unlike anything you’d experienced before. Despite the fact that you dreaded the call from your parents at the photos that would inevitably be published of the two of you - you hadn’t really been dressed to go out (the outing unexpected), nor had you been able to help snuggling into his back, your hand resting on his solid thigh at the lights. When you’d gotten back to the estate you’d expected a party - a celebration of his homecoming, and you’d been bracing to have to deal with losing him for the evening, but you’d been pleasantly shocked when he’d kicked everyone out after dinner, announcing that he wanted a night just the two of you.

You wanted to tell him that his expectations were a bit forward, to not get his hopes and that you still weren’t sure you were quite ready to have actual sex with him but in all honesty, you were ready and only your (perhaps misguided) morals had prevented you thus far. You had been slightly surprised at how unbothered he had seemed at the concept of sex - he’d laughed you off when you’d told him you didn��t want to sleep with him on the first night; telling you that was all very well but would you sleep with him because he couldn’t “bear the long nights all on my lonesome”. He hadn’t pressured you at all, less than your last boyfriend for sure, and seemed to genuinely enjoy your makeout sessions as much as you do. To tell the truth, you weren’t really sure why anyone was that bothered by sex - it felt fine sure, but it didn’t blow your world apart, was mostly very awkward, and you couldn’t understand what the fuss was in general.

You’d followed him into the bedroom, into his room, and while part of you wanted to inspect every little detail of this hidden, protected space, the other part of you could feel his impatience from the bed and when he smiles at you - all cheeks and teeth, asking;

“Wanna have some fun tonight darlin’? Cleared the place out for ya, didn’t want you to go all shy on me…some girls get nervy at the number of people in the place. Get real quiet and the like, even though I tell ‘em I got the sound locked down.” You forget any desire to rifle through his drawers and instead stare at him, slightly confused - just hoping he’s not going to be disappointed;

“Uh, oh, well, I can’t say I’m that loud anyways, always, I always thought that was just a thing girls, uh, exaggerated?” You look down, embarrassed that you may be having to burst his bubble - you don’t want to be the first to tell him that from what you know there’s nothing to be shouting about. But he doesn’t react in the way you expect - blinking at you from under his glasses and patting the bed next to him.

“C’mere doll, tell daddy what you mean.” You sit where he tells you to, tiny shorts hiking even further, and you curl your legs up underneath yourself.

“I don’t, sorry, I don’t understand what you’re asking? I’m just, just, saying that I never understood what those girls on the … on the … the stuff you like to watch, what they’re shouting about is all. Never seemed like anything worth carrying on like that is all.” He’s a little shocked but not altogether surprised - you’re young and a little sheltered, perhaps more than he thought at your reluctance to even said the word ‘pornography’ and he knows your only other relationships have been serious with boys from home, less about fun and more about futures, and he knows that they don’t always put the effort in they should. Still, he needs clarification - his eyes burning with curiosity;

“You mean you ain’t ever .. got your rocks off? Never creamed those lil’ shorts of yours?” His thick hand finds its way onto your thigh and he flicks the hem of your shorts, practically between your legs. You giggle, pushing his hand off.

“Elvis. Don’t be silly, unless you’ve been with some funny sorta people - girls can’t do that! That’s… I might not know much but I do know that.” He looks back at you, utterly stunned, before smiling like all his Christmases have come at once, a full cheshire cat grin.

“You - you ain’t never?” He’s shocked, but desperate to know your answer, taking his glasses off, leaning closer and waiting with practically bated breath in excitement, clenching his hands on his thighs.

“I just told you E, that’s not something girls can actually do. Don’t you think I’d know! If you’re just gonna tease me I swear I’m gonna walk right out of here!” He laughs again at your indignation, shaking his head,

“Naw little one, don’t do that, don’t do that - I just uh, I think I might be able to teach you a few things tonight is all. Just, ah, need to re-evaluate some things’all.” He frowns, “You know the other day, baby, when I stroked your little pussy and you pushed me off - told me you were all done?”

You remember the incident he was talking about, He’d had his fingers up you, rubbing you exactly how you needed and you’d crunched with an involuntary shudder, couldn’t quite catch your breath properly and had told him to stop. You’d pushed him away in a panic that you didn’t know what was coming, but that that was certainly enough. He’d been a little worried then, worried that he’d pushed you into something you hadn’t wanted to do. But, he’d relaxed when you’d relaxed on the bed - he wasn’t happy with leaving you like that, on the edge, but he’d figured you were just shy, nervous that his entourage was a mere wall away. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him that you genuinely believed that was you finished.

“Yeah, but what about it? We were done - I was done, it was starting to make me feel weird. I actually think we went too far.” He lets out a pure incredulous laugh, shaking his head.

“Oh baby, baby. I’m gonna, I’ll teach you baby, it’ll be ok.” You nod, but you’re honestly a bit confused about what he’s even planning on teaching you, but you don’t want to tell him he’s wrong again. You suppose he does have quite the reputation, so maybe he does have some things to show you, you doubt it somewhat but keep that to yourself.

“Right, yittle, need these all off of ya,” He tugs at your shirt, starting to unbutton it. “and these, these slutty little shorts need to come off, lemme see what I’m working with.” He’s practically crooning at you, slipping your shirt off gently, divesting you off your shorts - undressing you as if you were a babe. He strips you of your bra, leaving you in little white panties, before pushing you back onto the bed to lie flat. He doesn’t give you time to worry about your nudity, cupping your cheek with one thick hand, leaning over you to kiss you.

His tongue slips in, it’s like he’s mapping your mouth and you don’t bother to fight for dominance, letting him in, submissively brushing your tongue against his. He pulls away slightly, grabbing a breath and you can’t help it, his pouty perfect lips too tempting, you surge forward to softly suck on his bottom lip, nibbling gently. He responds in kind, pulling your head back, baring your neck - he tugs your lip between his teeth pulling as he pulls away. You moan at the little sting, and he presses a soothing peck against it. Before trailing down and pressing little open-mouthed kisses at your cheek, mouthing at your neck - tiny little suctioning touches until his hand, which he’s not resting on, is trailing further down. His fingers spread across a breast, fingertips playing with your nipple. You can feel the heat coiling in your tummy - your throbbing heartbeat between your legs. He’s pressing little kisses down your soft stomach, and he grunts as he repositions himself - up on his knees slightly. It worries you briefly, he’s been using a cane as more than just an accessory more frequently lately - his youthful actions having been hard on his knees and legs, before your mind is wiped by his actions again.

His hand trails lower, even as he continues to press soft kisses on your stomach, and he swipes down in a languid stroke over your panties, feeling your pooling wetness through the forming damp spot. He pushes it into you, rubbing you over them - the fabric catching slightly, along with your breath. He moves his head back up, sucking you by your collarbone and on your neck, hard enough to leave a bruise. The noises coming out of your mouth are unlike how you’ve ever heard yourself before, and as he hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them down and off - the dampness making them pretty much see through - you would normally cringe in embarrassment but as you watch him lift them to his mouth and suck on them you can’t do anything but stare in an absolute state of shock and arousal. He’s still fully dressed although his shirt is so lowly unbuttoned, his chest with its covering of hair, god even his nipples practically out, that it barely counts. You can feel his own arousal growing against your side, still confined in his tight, slightly flared, trousers the heat of it, and can’t help but wiggle against him. He folds your panties, scrunching them up, before shifting to push them into his trouser pocket. You gape at him,

“Good lord, you can’t - they’re so dirty Elvis - you can’t keep them. They need to be washed!” He smirks at you, smirk turning to a grin as he leans over you to whisper in your ear, moving his hand away from you as he does.

“Baby, when they taste that good, I’ll do what I damn well like.” He licks your cheek, and it's something that you would have found disgusting from anyone else, but somehow him doing it makes your heartbeat pulse in your core. He lets his hand come back down, lightly slapping against your pussy, you jolt forward, mouth falling open, and eyes rolling slightly at the sudden intense pleasure from it. He chuckles into your ear, tickling your neck, “Oh - you like that mama? Like that baby?” He does it again, and you’re horrified at the wet slapping noise - but also at the sudden surge of wetness, you can feel.

“Oh god, Elvis, you gotta - gotta do that again. Please.” He obliges, patting you once, twice, three times before letting his hand fly slightly harder, you can feel your heat rising - and you shiver slightly. You’ve reached the peak of where you’d been before. Your heartbeat fast, and a constant thrumming at your centre. He laughs, teasing you in a low tone,

“God, who’d have thought you’d be such a dirty fucking girl, letting me - begging me to spank that yittle cunt of yours.” He puts an inflection onto yittle, as if even when talking about your ‘cunt’ he’s unable to stop his penchant for baby talk.

He uses his fingers to spread you apart, middle finger sliding in your slick. The metal of his ring is cold against your burning skin, sending goosebumps down your flesh. You think he can’t make you feel any better when he slips two of his fingers inside you. His huge square ring catching on your entrance for a moment and you buck your hips as he slides it in. He pumps them, in and out, as you squirm on the bed. Your eyes fall closed for a moment and he whispers to you,

“You like that little? My fingers in you? Gonna show you how girls do it, teach ya how it goes.” You respond with a whine - his words causing a blush to travel from your chest. You’re simultaneously embarrassed at needing to be taught something about your own adult self and aggressively turned on by his narration.

You’re breathless and while he’s looking at you with a soft smile on his face - pure concentration in his burning eyes, you can’t help but wonder what he’s getting from all of this attention on you. But to be the centre of his focus, him looking at you like you’re the whole world - the only thing in the world, is another level of high. Behind him you can yourself reflected in the mirror above - you look fucking debauched, unlike yourself and seeing him from above, in all his iconic glory, reminding you this is Elvis fixated on you brings you even closer to the cliff edge.

He pushes into you, unnecessarily - his fingers were long enough he could reach with his thumb without having to strain at all - to reach your hooded clit. He finds it expertly, rubbing it just so. You shudder, and he keeps going just as he was, but kisses down your neck to your nipple again, swirling it in his mouth, pulling it with his teeth slightly and you can feel yourself about to fall. You panic at the unexpected and unknown feeling and try to throw him off,

“Elvis! Elvis stop - stop I can’t - I can’t do it, it’s too much - you gotta, you gotta st-“ You’re thrashing about the place, arms flailing as you try to push him away, but his fingers don’t stop and he hushes you as he’s suddenly stroking this little spot inside of you. You can feel it’s different but can’t quite tell how until he crooks his fingers and presses. You shudder, your mouth falling open, although you’re still far quieter than he’d like - he makes a mental note that his aim tonight is to make you scream. And then you’re shaking, convulsing on his hand - stomach and core muscles clenching of their own accord. He rubs and strokes you through it. Your mind is blank and all you can feel is your thighs shaking - your head rolling from side to side. He keeps going and you keep going for him, clutching the covers in tight fists, mouth open in a silent scream as one of your legs randomly seems to jump about. He can tell you’re at the end of what you can do for him at the moment. He softlypulls his fingers out, trying to bring you down gently. His fingers leaving feather-light touches across your mound and thighs.

“That good, baby?” He pats his sticky, wet hand on your tummy and you can’t speak, taking heaving breaths.

“W-was,” You’re slurring as you come back to, your ears ringing, “Is that, what I’ve been missing? Is that meant to happen?” He laughs at you, finger drawing little shapes on your stomach,

“Yeah, when you’re with someone who knows what they’re doing.” He puffs his chest out a little, clearly proud of himself, “A real man.” You laugh, and he kisses you again and again until your lips are swollen and bitten raw and you’re gasping for air. You lay back for a few more moments, looking up at him leaning over you. He moves his arm, and you’re not quite sure what comes over you, but the movement had spread his shirt even more and it’s not something you’d ever considered doing ever before, but he did do it to you earlier so you gain the courage to ask;

“El- can I, can I…please can I taste you?” He raises a brow at your polite request, but is not going to turn down such an offer,

“Sure baby, lemme get lil’ Elvie out now - “ You frown, interrupting him.

“No, no… can I just… like you did earlier?” He looks slightly confused, his brow furrowed, but he agrees nonchalantly - clearly used to letting whoever do whatever they like with his body.

“Sure - “ He starts to say something else, but you’re too distracted by the permission, rushing forward to kiss his chest, moving down to capture his nipple. He jerks,

“Christ - Oh lord,” You’re practically suckling him, one hand threading through his chest hair, feeling his stomach, the hard line where he’s definitely still muscular somewhere underneath but is soft and cushy above, grasping at his pillowy sides. His hips are bucking, circling with the effort not to throw you off accidentally, “Oh gods, baby, christ little one, lord, oh lord.” He’s unable to be silent, constantly babbling a stream of curses and praise. You pull off, and suddenly, you’re mortified.

“Oh my goodness, Oh, Elvis, I - uh, sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” You’re shocked at yourself but he’s panting, and you can feel him straining against his pants.

“Oh darlin’, lord, darlin’ it’sss ok, it’s so good, so good baby. Love your lil’ mouth on me.” You smile a little bashfully as he pats at you as if praising a dog. “Think now little Elvis would too baby, get him out - show him how much you ‘preciate him too?” You pant back at him nodding your agreement. He’s resting further up on the bed than he was before, you’d both travelled around the last few minutes and he sits to take his shirt fully off, before unbuttoning his trousers finally and wriggling out of them. He shuffles further back and you get yourself situated between his legs, bracketed by his thick thighs on either side of you, their covering of downy hair tickling your sides. You lean down, gently stroking his hardening cock - but then pause,

“Elvis, I ain’t ever - you gotta tell me how to do it.” He groans, his head falling back,

“Goddamn, like you were made for me, fucking made for me honey,” he peers down at you, over the slight swell of his stomach, tucking his chin in - one of his meaty fingers stroked the side of your face before gently grasping your head, lowering it to his cock. “You gotta, gotta say hello little one, give ‘im a little hello kiss now - “ You do as he says, brushing your lips against the very tip. You’d seen it briefly before, so although not this close, and you had given him a … helping hand over the past few weeks so you’re not surprised to see he’s uncut nor at the size of him - generous in length and girth, but it’s still fascinating to you up close. You can't help but study it briefly - assessing how his foreskin is starting to retract back slightly and you absentmindedly reach for it, gently rolling it forward and back a little bit, unsure how far it should go. His hips jerk,

“Christ, baby, you gotta warn a man first.” You smile, meeting his blazing blue eyes and amused expression.

“Sorry - I thought me being here was warning enough.” He laughs and pats your cheek.

“Right little one, back to work. Kiss down little Elvis, let him know how much you wanted to see him - ‘ You obey his orders, pressing little kisses all the way down his shaft. “Ok, now doll you're gonna take him in that hot little mouth of yours - gonna be re-eal careful of your sharp little teeth, got it?” You obediently bob up and down in a nod, making sure not to scrape him.

Instinct seems to kick in and you take a moment to suck down on him, flattening your tongue against his underside. His other hand finds its way into your hair accompanying the one still resting on your cheek and neck, hand spanning across the distance. His hip jerks forward and it causes his dick to knock further back than you were expecting and you pull back with a little cough.

“S’ok baby, sorry, felt so good, couldn't help myself, not gonna make you take all of him tonight, you can use your hand go on, show the rest of him how much you love him.” He pats you again and it’s enough encouragement for you to go back down on him. You do as he suggested, stroking and pulling him with your hand where your mouth can't comfortably reach, growing bold enough to reach down and delicately hold and stroke his balls. His hands are insistent on your head, not forcing you but certainly moving you exactly how he wants you. You can taste the thin salty trickle of precum starting to dribble out of him.

“That’s it, baby, I was already so close, just from touchin’ ya honey, just gotta suck me just like that, that’s it like a damn popsicle.” His hands grow a little rougher, tugging on your hair slightly, as his hips circle and his thighs clench around you. “Gonna, you gonna stroke me now, yittle, you just gonna stroke me, I’ll let you have a taste, give you a treat but that’s enough for now - ’s about you tonight, about you honey.” He's babbling now, and you're not paying much attention to his words coming out of his mouth except when his request filters through to your brain, and you pull off with a little wet pop, stroking him to completion. He squirts over your hand - ribbons of white hitting you on the chin and chest, moaning as he does and his eyes falling closed.

He leans back, breathing heavily as his cock finishes jumping about, slowly softening before your eyes and you glance around, before grabbing his discarded shirt to wipe your hand on. Before you can raise it to your chin to wipe it off of there he sits up and moves his hand from your face to swipe a finger through it. “C’mon baby, gonna have you swallow it next time,” You're uncertain about this, but don’t bother to say anything right now as he rubs his fingers on your lips, “Go on, open up honey, have a taste for me. Lick it clean.” You do as he commands, tasting the salty tang of a man’s cum for the first time. It's not wholly unpleasant, although you're not sure about the texture, but you can’t say you'd be jumping for joy at the prospect of swallowing his full load. He watches as you suck his fingers, licking them completely clean looking up at him under your lashes as you do.

He leans forward to kiss you but then suddenly grimaces, frowning. Twisting slightly in an attempt to relieve some of the tension from his hips and back.

“I’m sorry, honey, but I gotta- I gotta lie down again.” You frown, worried.

“Of course! don’t - you’re meant to be relaxing!” He’s proven himself to you - taught you that there was something on the other side of the cliff edge and it was good. But you weren’t worried - didn’t see any reason to continue, you’d both been taken care of and you were now perfectly happy to be tucked up in bed for the night.

“Oh no, I don’t mean I’m done. Get over here, little girl…” He manhandles you, ringed fingers digging into your thighs as he arranges you over the top of him. He then lies down, sliding between your legs, before huffing a tiny bit as he heaves you up from his chest and down onto him. “That’s it, mama, right over my face. Lemme get to that poor little kitty of yours.” You’re confused as to what he’s going to be able to achieve from this angle - he can’t possibly just want such a closer look, can he? But then, without warning, he pushes his head up licking down your labia before pulling you off balance to literally sit on his face.

“Woah - Oh, Elvis I’m gonna hurt you like this, I can’t just - I’m too heavy!” You try to move away but you can’t escape from his tight grip.

“Ain’t gonna hurt a fly baby - lemme just.” And he pushes his tongue into you, spearing into your hole. You’re sopping wet already, his fingers having seen to that, and the noises are obscene - the wet smacking and sucking.

“Elv-oh my god, Elvis you can’t-“ You try to get off but his hands don’t let you move at all - pinning you onto him. But as you struggle your thighs touch and you can feel the wetness and the stickiness that’s spread throughout - tangling your curls, sticking your thighs. “It’s- it’s - it’s dirty, you can’t, you shouldn’t - that shouldn’t, you’re not meant to do that.” You can feel him chuckle, the vibration making you gasp, but he doesn’t even respond, simply holds you down and goes harder.

You’re supporting most of your weight on your own legs but every time you clench or move you can feel his fingers digging tighter in - sure you’ll have bruises where his rings and fingertips have been. You can’t help but move, grinding onto his mouth. It’s outrageous and you can’t believe this is something people do, but now it’s happening you wonder how you’ve lived this long without it, without knowing how this feels. His tongue is flicking between lapping at your hole and your inner folds. Your hips circle and one of his hands comes around your thigh - curling around to join his mouth. He moves his mouth up to suck on your clit, and the warm wet pressure, the suction, the everything - it’s too much. You’re losing control again, fighting the panic for a second time that evening - but this time, the pressure is growing even stronger and though you recognise the feeling now it feels different.

“Oh my god, Elvis, god, Elvis, Elvis please, please, you gotta stop! I’m gonna-” You grind your hips again, but he must be able to hear the sudden change in your tone - the sudden, very real, panic. And despite his instinct telling him not to he worries it’ll make you lose your relaxed state and he pulls away, kissing your inner thigh,

“Relax baby, dontcha worry, oh my poor baby’s little neglected pussy - you’ve got no idea, just been waiting for a real man, for daddy, to show you what you’ve been missin’ all this time.” He croons into you, hands stroking your thighs, soothing you into compliance. As soon as you relax into his hold again he surges forward once more. Your folds are swollen and slick, feeling like they’re burning, you feel so hot. And your entire focus is on your cunt and Elvis. Unable to even think about your thigh cramping or your foot falling asleep. He kisses up you, capturing your little puffy clit in his lips again and sucks hard. You think you might be about to pass out - it feels so overwhelming, but suddenly the pressure changes - and as he slips a finger back inside you it starts to feel a little too similar to something else.

Your panicked noises come back out, and you once again are begging Elvis to stop warning him; “I think I’m gonna pee, Elvis, seriously! I can’t - I can’t hold it! Elvis - daddy, fuck, I can’t, I seriously think I’m gonna - gonna pee.” But he doesn’t stop this time, not even to reassure you, just continuing his steady ministrations, speeding up, and the pressure is steadily mounting again, reaching the peak. Your orgasm rips through you and you have to throw your hands out to support yourself on the headboard to simply stay upright but you’re barely able to think about it, moving on instinct alone. You’re shuddering and he’s continuing, won’t leave you be. And then, the pressure seems to burst - slowly yet somehow quicker than anything you’re ever felt. It’s like your vagina is simultaneously your whole body and also entirely separate from your body as it clenches before you’re gushing, liquid shooting out of you. It drenches his face, it’s in his hair, in his sideburns, and he sits up, as you fall off of him to one side, and he’s glistening.

You’re in a daze but a little embarrassed, both at him covered in your juices and that he was right and you were wrong about your abilities. But his reaction makes you second guess your immediate response - he’s grinning, licking his goddamn lips like he’s just eaten the best-tasting dessert of his life. He uses one of your discarded shirts to wipe his face off, smiling at the damp patches it causes.

“There we are baby, Daddy got’cha there, got you to that special place - that’s what it’s meant to be like darling. Told you didn’t I, told you, you just gotta listen to me, let yourself go.”

You lay back panting - you’re a little sore and a lot tired and you’re sure you’re done. You can feel his cock hardening against you again in a gentle coaxing sort of way, and you reach over a hand. You can do this, but you’ve just not got the energy for anything else - and your pussy is still pulsing, soft and swollen and puffy. He bats your hand away though,

“Right, mama, gonna show you how it’s really done, you’re gonna reach your little o on my cock, and you’re gonna know that’s how it should be every time.” He kneels up on the bed, pulling you up onto your knees too, and he’s putting you exactly where he wants you. You want to refuse, but he’s so convincing, and you are a little curious at how he might be able to make even this so spectacular for you, an act that you’d been ambivalent about, mostly put up with; knowing it was something women just did to keep their partners happy. He manhandles you into the perfect position for him, your back slightly arched, hands clutching the top of the headboard and he brushes your sweaty hair off of your neck, kissing where it lay before.

You stay where he puts you, slightly shell-shocked at your easy compliance, and at what he’s suggesting. You glance up from under your lashes and notice the huge mirror above the bed - you’d seen the one above yourself in the bed but not the glass above the headboard - and can see how you look. You watch your face contort slightly as he presses a few of his fingers into you again, testing if you’re ready. But you’re loose, in a novel sort of way - so aroused that it’s easy in a way it’s never been before. You’re studying your fucked out face, shocked at how wide your pupils are, the redness of your lips and cheeks, before you turn your attention to Elvis watching his rosy reflection - his hair sticking down, body and chest shimmering with sweat, clinging to his chest hair, his plush lips bitten red and his face still with a hint of damp, blue eyes sparkling. You’re about to utter something completely embarrassing like, “Oh my god, you’re so pretty,” or “I love you.” But you’re (somewhat thankfully) distracted by him rubbing himself on you a couple of times before fucking into you. You jolt forward, mouth falling open as he simply pushes his whole length in, immediately pulling back out to shutter his hips forward again - gripping your waist and pulling you back onto him too. You’re shouting, finally, garbled noises and moans as he gives you no time to adjust and instead slams you back and forth to him, his balls slapping against your wet skin.

He spanks your ass and you shudder, the tinge of pain mixed with the pleasure of him hitting that spot in you, getting in so deep you feel like he’s in your soul and not just your body. You can feel yourself starting to go again, starting to ride the crest of that wave when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror again and you can barely breathe, noises catching in your throat at the sight.

“That’s it sweet, that’s it sugar, look at yourself,” He wraps an arm over your chest and grips your chin, pointing it straight at the mirror, “Look at us honey.” You can see him behind you, behind your flushed body - himself pink and damp with sweat from the exertion, its practically dripping down his forehead and onto his chest - he lets go of your chin and moves one hand to fondle your breasts, pinching your nipples, the other to slip between your legs. You jerk when he strokes where the two of you are joined. It’s filthy. You’ve never been this visible like this before, having very much been under the covers with previous lovers, and your knowledge of positions was limited to on your back, on your front and your side. Very much lying down. The image of his cock sliding into your folds, the pink fuzzy base barely visible through your own fuzz and his hand splayed over your stomach as if supporting where he sits internally is filthy in the best possible way.

You feel utterly surrounded by him, you can’t think of anything but how he feels, how he looks, you can’t sense anything else. You can’t see anything but him, it’s all him as you look around - the mirrors on the back wall and above you reflect back the image of the two of you, but your eyes skip over yourself only seeing him. His thick form. He’s muscular in a solid way, an accidental way, and the layer of softness that covers all of him, but especially over his tummy, only makes him more attractive to you, more real. When you close your eyes the vision of him is imprinted on your eyelids, and all you can smell is him. He’s got a slight sweaty musk to him from the exertion and activity, but under it you can still smell the hint of his cologne. His sheets smell aggressively like him, like the Vegas him and the home him - he must use the same products (or his laundry service must) wherever he is. The room too - there’s his unique blend of homely smells but also the heavy scent of the blend of his favourite specific brands of cigarettes and cigars. The smoke, despite him claiming he only smoked very irregularly, clings to his thick curtains and the drapes that surround the room. The room which screams, as much as the rest of his house does, of him - of solely him, of his outrageous, outlandish, tacky, wonderful, style.

You aren’t able to have any of these thoughts though, as his fingers stroke himself before once again finding your clit. He captures it between his fingers, rolling it, before brushing his finger over it and before you know it you’re quivering - shaking as your orgasm overcomes you again. It’s too much, your body has barely had a chance to recover and while you’re not passed out you’re also not…all there. Your body slack as Elvis holds you up, just a rag doll for him to take what he needs for his own orgasm - chasing his completion. He does, barely a few strokes later, a litany of praises spilling out of his mouth, pulling out as quickly as he could, seemingly caught a little by surprise. And you can feel the last few sprays from him as he splatters over your already sticky and trembling body. You slump down without him holding you up by the waist and hips, and he catches you - laying you out on the bed. He lays next to you, panting, chest heaving for a few moments before propping himself up on an elbow next to you.

You’re sore, internally and externally and worse - sticky, but he doesn’t let you sleep yet, running his cum-covered fingers through your soft pubic hair, before tracing shapes on your lower tummy, gently brushing lower and lower until his fingers are stroking through your sticky soft folds. You squirm, sleepy, and he hushes you,

“C’mon baby doll, give me one more, gotta make up for lost time darling. Give em all to you tonight. One more baby, c’mon do it for daddy, give daddy one more.” He’s speaking lowly, so as not to disturb your sleepy state, but what he’s asking you to do is bringing you back to awareness. He’s barely touching you, nudging your little stretched hole with his wet fingers, barely pressing the outer rim before delicately stroking your sore, puffy, clitoris again. You feel your legs shaking, seemingly of their own accord, and can’t focus on anything he says, resorting to begging over top of his continued whispers;

“I can’t, I can’t, Elvis please, daddy, please, it’s too much, I can’t,” but you’re already so close to the edge that you gasp, mouth open, as he inserts his fingers again, and it only takes him crooking them just so for you to shudder and scream. It’s borderline painful, and your legs are shaking, “Lord, daddy! Oh my god, Elvis, daddy, oh my lord. Oh - “ and as he continues to stroke that little place inside of you, as you ride the waves that wash over you, your words trail off to just noises. You're practically yowling as you slump over, still shuddering and stomach still convulsing when he slows his ministrations and pulls his fingers away. Your vision is white and black and you can't focus on anything he's saying through your ringing ears although you're aware he's talking. It takes a few minutes for your body to calm down, Elvis’ large hands gently rubbing you down like a horse after a race, and it's not until your heart rate slows again that you’re able to open your eyes and try to focus on what he's saying.

“Told you didn’t I, you gonna learn to believe your daddy now? Believe what he tells you?” He’s unbelievably smug and you can hear it in his voice, and in the way his eyes crinkle looking down at you.

“Course, Daddy,” You blush, “Elvis. Of course, I just - I just didn’t know! I didn’t know what that was…inside me.” He laughs,

“Well, not everyone can find it doll, it keeps itself real hidden like, less you’re just the right fit.” He squeezes your cheek as he says it before he pats you again and heaves himself up into standing. “Right honey, gonna have to get you all cleaned up - you’ll be drippin’ all night else.” You wince as he wipes at you with a little towel, even his expensive cotton too much abrasion on your still throbbing centre. You roll into the bed, far too exhausted to even stand up, and your eyes are closing as he comes back over with a glass of water, he makes you drink half and you do so, sleepily, while he maintains his grip on the glass. “We’ll have to shower in the morning honey, think you’re fixin’ for a snooze now.” He pulls the top comforter off, throwing it on the floor, and you can just see through your hazy tired gaze that there’s a large wet spot on it. “Least we ain’t gotta change the bed.” He mumbles as he climbs into it. You squirm as he pulls you close against your chest and his hands find their customary positions - one just a little too close to between your thighs but he pets and shushes you, humming a tiny lullaby that makes you fall deep asleep almost immediately.

#elvis smut #elvis x you #elvis x reader #elvis fanfic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader #fic request!!#be-my-ally #big daddy elvis

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cookiescribble · 1 year

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Don’t Let Yourself Fade Away (Spencer Reid x GN!Reader)

A/N: Hello there! This one’s a little sad, but it was healing to write. Seeing Spence get shut down sometimes when he gets so animated and excited about the most random topics breaks my neurodivergent heart, so here��s to not only him, but anyone else who feels shut out when they talk about their true passions in life <3 - Mod Ghost

p.s. thank you to everyone 🥺❤️

“The average lifespan of a human is about 73.5 years, and your ears never truly stop growing in that time so if you think about it…” Spence trailed off, just as he was about to finish his sentence.

“...What were you about to say, sweetheart?” I ask, having been quiet up until now as I listened to him speak. I could tell just by looking at him that he’d gone somewhere deep in that big head of his, and I have no idea what caused it. He suddenly had this glazed over look to his eye and it hurt my heart to look at it. Whatever it was, I wanted to gently pull him back to me.

“Hmm? Oh, nothing, it’s uh, not important. Are you hungry?” He asked as he started to stand off the couch in his apartment where we were both sitting, but stopped when I grabbed his wrist so he could look back at me with those big eyes that looked like they belonged on a puppy and not my boyfriend.

“It’s not nothing, Spence, why’d you stop talking?” I gently tugged on his arm, trying to get him to sit back down with me.

Spencer looked confused, as if it somehow made less sense for me to ask why he stopped talking than for him to go quiet mid thought. He stood there silently for a moment before sitting back next to me, sheepishly piping up again, “I’ve calculated the amount of time it takes for others to either become disinterested in what I have to say and stop listening or cut me off completely, which is about anywhere from 25 seconds to a minute, so I decided that instead of letting that happen, I would cut myself off at a somewhat natural point in that time frame so that I wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore…Neither would anyone else, so there’s statistically at least one ‘plus side’ to it..” He looked away from me halfway through the sentence, like he was suddenly scared of making eye contact with me.

The more he spoke, I felt an ache growing in my chest until the entirety of my core was filled with a raw and harrowing anguish. Who on Earth could look at him and ever tell him that he wasn’t interesting or that they didn’t want to hear what he had to say? I always look forward to talking to him, no matter what he says. The sound of his voice is so comforting to me and one of my worst fears is never hearing it again.

“Oh, Spencer…I…I don’t even know what to say…who made you think like that?” I brush his hair back behind his ear as I speak, moving closer to him so our knees are brushing together.

“Well, at work, sometimes…sometimes, I can get a bit too carried away and I end up just rambling while everyone’s trying to catch the unsub…but even on the jet, if I get too caught up in a topic, I end up blabbering and then whoever I’m talking to loudly says ‘WOW, that’s interesting!’ and walks away, or it’s ‘I’m so glad I asked!’ before the same outcome occurs. Or the worst one is when they just walk away without saying anything,” he momentarily stops, staring off into space as if recalling a memory. “That one hurts the most.”

My brow furrows and I feel tears leak from my own eyes as I see some streaking their way down his face, pulling him toward me until he starts to fold himself into my arms and lets me rub his back gently.

“I don’t care who says or does those things to you…no matter what, I’m always going to want to listen to you speak. I’ll hang on to every one of your words as I wait for the next, because everything you say is always so interesting to me. I love watching your eyes crinkle up when you smile, and hearing how fast you talk when you get really excited. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of your voice, so don’t let yourself fade away because some of the people in your life don’t appreciate you the same way that I do.” I whisper close to his ear, brushing his hair away from his face with my hand that wasn’t rubbing his back.

He woefully nodded, sniffling pitifully and slowly breaking down as I held him. It was as if something deep inside of his soul broke loose, and he was finally setting it free. He was letting himself feel it, and hopefully start to heal from it at the very least. I’ve been in a similar position to him before, and I would never want to make him feel that way if I could help it. Spence continued to cry for a while longer, and I held him until he sat up enough to look at me.

“Did you really mean what you said…? About my voice and my smile…?” His voice cracked as he spoke, and I smiled reassuringly as I leaned forward to press a kiss to his temple.

“Every last word,” I murmured close to his ear, running my hand through his hair again as he closed his eyes.

He sat still and quietly for a moment, as if he were soaking in everything that we’d said. The only noise in the room was the sound of our breathing until he broke the silence with a soft mutter of “thank you.”

“What are you thanking me for? Telling the truth?”

Spence only laughed, rolling his eyes at me as if I was telling a joke.

It was nice to see him smile, though, so I let it go.

“Now, about that food…” he changed the subject, and for whatever reason, I let him. I think I just wanted to let him be himself, even if it was just for a little while.

“You asked if I was hungry because you were hungry??” I asked with a dramatic gasp, standing up and pulling him to stand with me. “I never knew you were the type of man to have ulterior motives.” I teased, walking with him to the kitchen.

“I don’t think that’s usually used in the context of food, my love.” he let out a giggle, a goofy smile spreading across his face as we looked through his fridge together.

Just hearing him laugh was like music to my ears, and I would give anything in the world to keep hearing it for every day of my life.

#criminal minds #fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #comforting the boy #criminal minds fanfiction #mod ghost #ghosty

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nicksbestie · 7 months

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hi as of like yesterday yr requests are still open so i hope this isn’t a bother ! but anyway i was hoping to see some caregiver!reader + agere!johnnie ? preferably gnc reader but fem would also be okay ( whatever prior relationship you want :] ) don’t have many ideas for plot aside from maybe johnnie has had a bad day/is really stressed out so he kinda starts isolating himself, which reader respects but is also really worried about him :( so after a while reader uses maybe like a spare key to go into johnnie’s room and at first it just seems like he’s just upset but as reader starts trying to get johnnie to open up and trying to comfort him, he regresses which makes him more upset/panicky. whether reader has prior knowledge of regression is up to you but in general they’re just really sweet and supportive trying to calm johnnie down <3 maybe they eat dinner/reader feeds johnnie, and watch a movie/cartoon while cuddling ? ( little spoon johnnie ofc ) anyways feel free to add or take away anything i just want johnnie to be taken care of and as an agere i am totally projecting lol

Secrets - Johnnie Guilbert

Summary : Johnnie's biggest secret is exposed without him being ready, but it goes better than he thinks it will.

Pairing : Johnnie Guilbert/Reader (romantic)

Warnings : descriptions of mental health issues, depression, and isolation

Word Count : 1541

A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.

Everyone has secrets. Some of them are terrible ones, skeletons in your closet, ones that would ruin many people’s lives should they escape out into the public. Others are small and simple, things they just like to keep to themselves, and wouldn’t hurt anyone if other people knew, they just don’t want them to be everyone’s business. Some people keep secrets to protect themselves because they would be embarrassed about it if anyone found out. Everyone keeps secrets, and sometimes they’re revealed at the wrong time. Johnnie had secrets, and he was in no way prepared for his biggest one to be exposed to anyone, especially not you, but sometimes life goes in ways that we just can’t predict.

Johnnie had been struggling a lot lately. That wasn’t a secret, and although you knew about it, you didn’t pressure him very much. He wasn’t the type to open up when he was overly pushed about whatever was wrong, and you wanted him to feel safe and comfortable coming to you when he was ready, and not before that. But that didn’t mean that you weren’t concerned, because you most definitely were. This bad spell for him was bordering on being one of his worst ones ever, and you were about to step in, because you couldn’t stand to see him hurting on his own any longer, even if that was what he told you he wanted.

Johnnie had begun to isolate himself for almost every hour of the day, only exiting his room to eat and use the bathroom. He didn’t talk much to you out loud, texting instead, as it took much less energy out of him to take that route. He didn’t like to talk about it, despite knowing that he most definitely needed to. You hated how he could be so self destructive, but you knew that you did the exact same thing when you felt the way that he did. So, you respected his space and always let him have it when he asked for it. However, it normally didn’t last this long, thus feeling the massive worry that encased your mind.

After a couple more hours, you continued to let your worry grow, but you decided to do something about it. You hated the fact that you were about to ignore the boundaries that Johnnie had put into place, but you were seriously concerned, and you hoped that he would be able to understand and forgive you should he be upset with your decision. You grabbed the spare key that unlocked all the doors in the house, kept in the kitchen just in case of emergencies, and gently knocked on his bedroom door. You weren’t going to just barge in, you wanted to give him the chance to open it himself. When he didn’t reply, you softly called out to him, telling him that you were going to open the door. He didn’t argue, so you did just that.

Walking into his room, you noticed that the blinds were closed, the lights were off, and he was quietly laying in his bed, staring at the wall. You immediately laid down next to him, letting him curl up next to you. You noticed the stained tear tracks on his cheeks, your heart breaking for him as he simply laid there. You let the both of you cuddle in silence, not wanting this to be a heartbreaking moment for the both of you, so you didn’t break the silence for a while. You knew that you should probably talk about what was going on, but the moment was so peaceful that you didn’t want to say anything. You both laid there quietly for about half an hour, taking in the comfort of the other’s presence, before you said anything.

“We should talk about this, baby. It’s getting worse this time.”

You could feel him shake his head against your chest.

“No. I don’t want to talk.”

“Honey, it’s important-”

“No!”

Woah. He very rarely snapped at you. He had almost never snapped at you, especially not when he was feeling like this. But, in all fairness, you had pushed him a little bit. You could feel the tears from his eyes soaking your shirt, and you decided to not speak any more for a little bit. You gently pulled his face up, wiping his tears away with the soft pads of your thumbs, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, brushing his hair out a bit with your fingers. You noticed that his eyes were widened more, much more glassy, and you definitely were concerned about it, but you brushed it off to the tears causing it.

You were more surprised when he pulled away from you, as he had never done that. You gently reached out to try and cuddle him again, but you noticed that he wouldn’t even look at you. He seemed to be panicking about something, and you couldn’t figure out what it was. You weren’t upset with him, but from the anxiety radiating off of his body, you could tell that he probably felt like you were. So, you immediately spoke up to try and help him recognize the fact that he was always safe and loved with you.

“Love, what’s wrong? It’s all going to be okay.”

You were now completely confused, as the second that you spoke, your boyfriend burst into tears. He seemed to be absolutely inconsolable, crying nearly at the top of his lungs and clutching the squishmallow on his bed tightly between his arms. You didn’t know what else to do besides just hug him, whispering comforting words as you told him that everything was going to work out, and that you were here for him. It wasn’t until he looked up at you with the same glassy-eyed look as earlier and spoke a few words when you realized what was going on.

When a choked out “I sorry” left his lips, you put together the look in his eyes, and unexpected crying, and the clutched stuffie, and immediately realized what was happening. Your boyfriend had slipped right into his littlespace, a littlespace that you were completely unaware of, and was absolutely distraught. You had been a caregiver in a previous relationship, and you quickly controlled your shocked face, bringing him as close to you as possible and gently stroking through his hair.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. You’re safe, angel, nothing to be sorry for. I’ve got you, you’re going to be alright.”

It took a lot of repetitive words and soft praises for Johnnie to relax, his crying eventually slowing when he realized that you weren’t upset with him, and that you were still there and still loving him despite his newfound headspace. He wrapped himself back around you, seeming to become a very quiet little. You were more than excited to get to know him in his headspace, so excited to get to love and spoil a little one, as it had been a long time. Less than an hour later, the two of you were still curled up next to each other, you simply hugging your little boy and whispering sweet nothings to him as he relaxed. You both enjoyed the quality time, and as it turns out, Johnnie is a very silent little, despite when he’s not upset. It wasn’t for another half an hour or so that you moved, and you probably wouldn’t have moved at all had it not been for Johnnie’s stomach growling.

You held his hand as you walked to the kitchen, calling him the most adorable as he rubbed his eyes with a fist. You put some chicken nuggets in the oven for him, before you went to the bathroom and you helped him remove the makeup that he’d put on that morning. He hadn’t gone anywhere, but he put it on to cover the dark circles under his eyes. You were gentle but bubbly, and you noticed that your little loved to laugh, and giggled at every funny face you made at him. Dinner went quite smoothly, him eating all of it, which absolutely warmed your heart, as he hadn’t been eating much lately due to his depressive slump.

Little Johnnie seemed to love food, and you were grateful for that, because you didn’t want dinner time to cause him to be upset again. After he had finished eating, you got him a popsicle from the freezer, wrapped it in a paper towel so his hands didn’t get cold, and tucked him in on the couch while you cleaned up the plate and put it into the dishwasher. He was wrapped up in a blanket, cuddled with his stuffie, and you sat down next to him as soon as you were done. You gently tapped through channels and shows as you waited for your little one to pick a cartoon he’d like to watch, finally settling on “Spongebob”, and he immediately wrapped himself back up in your arms.

He’d been in a dark episode for a while, but now, it seemed like he was able to see the light at the end of it, and you couldn’t wait to be here to help him through it all.

~ taglist : @jake-and-johnnies-slut @elliem505 @gvf23 @ilydeaky @maryx2xx @oobleoob @aemrsy @jasperthefriendlyghostt @707xn

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#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fanfic #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert fic #johnnie guilbert fanfiction #johnnie and jake #fanfic #jake webber fluff #jake webber fanfic #jake webber fanfiction #jake webber #jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert age regression #sfw fic #johnnie guilbert sfw #caregiver johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert agere

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juyeonszn · 11 months

Text

I LOOK BETTER UNDER YOU

PAIRING choi chanhee x f!reader

WORD COUNT 2.62k

GENRES smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, TW: LEWIS STRUCTURES/CHEMISTRY TERMS 🤢🤢🤢, academic rivals to something idk, kev and jichang appearances, chanhee is a cocky little shit, vaginal fingering, edging, exhibitionism lowkey, there’s not p in v action but they are in a public space so…. take with that what u will

SUMMARY aside from excelling at literally everything else, choi chanhee was also really fucking good at getting on your last nerve.

MORE my brain hurts LOL anyway fawntober day???? 7 holy fuck that is actually insane… ANYWAY shout out reese for being my beta as always <3 and also shout out @sungbeam for the idea <3 laurv u bestie!!! pls reblog if u enjoyed :)

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri

You felt stupid. Never in your life had you ever struggled to learn a concept, usually understanding on the first go around. This was the case for a majority of your courses. However, for some reason you just couldn’t quite grasp Lewis Structures in your Chemistry class.

Everything else seemed simple enough, your professor explaining them in a way that made them sound easy. They were anything but. You found yourself stressing over whether or not you could fully comprehend the bonds between atoms in time for your midterm. With the way it was going for you, that hope appeared to get less and less realistic.

“Have you thought about going to tutoring?” Your friend, Kevin, asks as you sit across from each other in one of the library’s study rooms, your chemistry textbook opened up to the section on Lewis Structures.

“I mean, no, I haven’t. I just think they’d judge me, considering I have the second highest GPA in our department.” You huff, scribbling down even more notes on the concept, as if you didn’t already have everything you needed to know. God, being a woman in STEM was so hard.

“That’s your problem,” Kevin rolls his eyes, working on his communications homework simultaneously. “Your ego is too damn big. Maybe if you toned it down a notch and set aside your pride, you’d be able to grow the balls to actually ask for help.”

You’re offended, honestly. Because as much as he was right, he was simultaneously very wrong. It wasn’t that you didn’t have the courage to ask for assistance. It was the fact that your biggest rival was the person in charge of the science department’s tutoring lab. He had the highest GPA in your year and you couldn’t stand the thought of losing to him. Let alone showing your weak side.

Aside from excelling at literally everything else, Choi Chanhee was also really fucking good at getting on your last nerve. You were thankful that he wasn’t in your Chemistry lecture, lest he made fun of you for all the questions you asked pertaining to your struggles. He had a knack for crawling under your skin like a goddamn parasite, doing everything in his power to make sure you never felt a moment of peace as long as he was around.

You hated him. You hated him so much for all of the unnecessary competition and constant need to one-up you in every mutual category possible. You hated his overall overachievement to be better than you, to be above you at all costs. You hated his dumb pretty face.

So how could you turn to tutoring after all of that? It just wasn’t feasible. Kevin wouldn’t get it. He didn’t have an arch nemesis holding him back from success.

“That’s not it at all, Kev. But it’s whatever, I’ll figure this shit out myself.”

You could not figure that shit out by yourself. Midterms were a week and a half away, and you were still ripping your hair out over which structures were more dominant and other things of that nature. This was absolutely humiliating. Perhaps growing up as a gifted kid was the worst thing that could’ve happened to you.

With a frown permanently etched on your face, you glance over at your tablemate’s notes. He had messily scrawled examples of those damn Lewis Structures covering the sheet, eyes flickering back and forth between his notebook and the projector at the front of the lecture hall. Oh how badly you wished to be in his shoes, to decipher everything and anything to do with the dot structures presented to you.

Ji Changmin was by no means a genius. His intelligence levels were above average, but that was still below you. How could he understand this better than you? It made no sense. Then again, he was close friends with He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. That had to be the reason why. His friend was practically the Einstein reincarnate.

This meant that you couldn’t even express your difficulties with him either. Chanhee no doubtedly knew that you sat beside his friend. If you asked for his help, it would obviously circle back to him and you’d never hear the end of it. You’d never unhear the taunting voice of Choi Chanhee teasing you for asking Ji Changmin for assistance with fucking Lewis Structures. There really was no winning here.

As the lecture draws to a close and your professor reminds you to study for the fast approaching midterm, Changmin clears his throat beside you with a raised eyebrow. You look at him with thinly concealed surprise. So much for being subtle.

“I saw you looking at my notes,” he snorts. “You know, if you’re having a hard time with this chapter, you should just go to the tutoring lab. I’m assuming you haven’t because Chanhee hasn’t gloated about it yet. But if you were curious, he won’t be there today. He has to go to some meeting for the newspaper. You know that guy’s got like ten different clubs he’s a part of.”

You’re not sure why Ji Changmin would be on your side with this. In fact, it kind of makes you skeptical. You didn’t know how credible he was, so why would you trust this information? For all you knew, he could’ve been attempting to lure you right into a trap. However, despite the bit of laughter he exhibited, he didn’t appear to be lying. You were usually a pretty good judge of character.

That’s how you found yourself showing up to the tutoring lab later that evening.

It was located inside of the STEM building on the fourth floor, along with some of the offices belonging to several professors. You chose to go later at night with the knowledge that most students would be gone by that time. The lab was available for use until 9 PM on weekdays, and it was currently 8 PM.

Your grip on the strap of your bag tightens as you push open the see-through glass door of the lab, grateful for the evident emptiness. Though it also worries you, because there were no tutors around either. Maybe the slowness of a Thursday evening encouraged them to head home early. You decide to wait a few minutes anyway, just in case someone shows up.

That was, unfortunately, a very big mistake. As you’re pulling out your notes and textbook, you hear the low creak of the door opening. You think you might keel over and die when you’re suddenly face to face with The Choi Chanhee.

His lips curl up almost menacingly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well well well, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Shut the fuck up,” your teeth grit together. “Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting or something? Why are you here?”

“Ended early,” he shrugs. “The tutors have a habit of leaving prematurely when I’m not around, so I wanted to see if there was anyone here. Guess it’s my lucky day, huh?”

This dude was a walking headache for real. You were seriously going to walk out of the lab with a migraine if he kept talking like he was so fucking smart. He was, but he didn’t need to know that you thought that. His own ego was large enough without you inflating it even more.

“I’m going home.” You state simply, mouth drawn in a straight line. You didn’t have the patience for his aggravating ass tonight.

“Am I really that horrible that you won’t accept my aid? I heard that you’ve been having problems with Lewis Structures. I may like to joke around, but I’m not really a masochist who likes to watch people suffer,” Chanhee chuckles with a shake of his head. “You’re just so easy to rile up.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, avoiding his piercing gaze. “But fine. If you’re actually gonna help me, I’ll let you just this once. I can’t afford to have this cost me a perfect midterm grade.”

He grins, something that looks conniving. You hate how much more attractive it makes him. You were thankful again for the fact that there were no other students present. It was embarrassing enough to be seen being civil with the worst person in the world.

Chanhee takes the seat beside you, turning it so he’s facing you. You keep your body squared to the table, flipping your textbook to the page on Lewis Structures and preparing a fresh sheet in your notebook. You feel your cheeks warm up with the attention on you, his arms still folded in front of him.

“S-So I don’t get the— um— I don’t— uh— I don’t understand the dominant— the dominant bonds,” your eyes squeeze shut, mortified by the amount of stuttering and fumbling over your words. “How do you— um— how do you determine them?”

He smiles at how cute you are, a shy side of you he’s never seen before. He was so used to you constantly arguing with him, used to you standing your ground and competing with him even when you knew he’d come out on top. He places an arm on the back of your chair, leaning in to read what was in your textbook although he didn’t need to. He just wanted an excuse to get closer to you.

“So you’re gonna want your formal charge to be as close to zero as possible. In order to calculate that, you’ll have to subtract the number of bonds divided by two and the number of electron pairs from the total number of valence electrons per individual atom,” Chanhee explains, pointing at the formula on the page. “How about I give you a couple examples to work on?”

You nod slowly, afraid your voice might betray you again. He jots down a few molecular examples on your notebook, pausing for a moment to nip at his lip and examine you. You blink, a little confused by the action.

“What are you doing?” There’s a slight crack in your tone.

“I have an idea,” he licks his lips. “To make this more rewarding for us both.”

Your brows furrow, his response further perplexing you. One of his hands situates itself on your thigh, your eyes widening. Of all days to wear a skirt, why did you have to choose today? You glance between his face and his hand, lips parted.

“Ch-Chanhee?”

“Yes, pretty?”

You don’t know why the nickname has your upper and lower heartbeats skipping, sweat forming on your palms. You’d always been too preoccupied despising him for being so much better at everything than you were. But right now, his fingers creeping beneath the denim of your skirt, all of that seemed to fly out of the window. You gasp as his fingertips reach the lace of your panties.

“I can make you feel good,” he says into your ear, thumb massaging your thigh. “I can make this worth your while if you do well for me.”

He was giving you fucking whiplash. One second he was teasing you for coming to the tutoring lab, and the next he was trying to coax you into coming quite literally. You think you’re the insane one, however, because you can’t conjure a logical reason to say no.

“Okay,” you breathe, shakily picking up your mechanical pencil. “Okay, I’ll do my best.”

You begin to work on the first molecule he wrote out, trying to ignore his slender fingers pushing aside your underwear and rubbing your clit gently. Your bottom lip quivers when his lips make contact with your neck, kissing up and down softly with each circle of his phalanges on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Chanhee presses two fingers inside of your cunt, smiling against your skin when you whimper, nearly dropping your pencil. You fight back tears threatening to spill from your eyes due to lack of reaction, his digits so skilled at working your pussy and looping that knot in your abdomen. Your legs spread wider as you attempt to finish the first example as quickly as possible, so he can knock you over that edge that seems so close now.

“D-Done,” you shiver, lids almost fluttering shut from pure bliss.

Chanhee judges your answer, fingers halting their movements when he recognizes an error. You whine, that taste of sweet release pulled right from under you like a rug. He tsks, kissing your temple as if he hadn’t just denied you an orgasm.

“That’s not the dominant structure. Try again.” He instructs, not continuing until you’ve picked up the pencil and rewrote the Lewis Structure.

You ignore his palm applying pressure to your clit as his fingers thrust in and out of your drooling cunt, lips sucking at the exposed base of your neck, where it meets your shoulder. Your focus zeroes in on completing this structure correctly, rearranging the electron bonds until they’re right. You feel your climax returning when he praises you for getting it this time.

“Such a smart girl,” he murmurs into your collarbone. “Now do the other one.”

He doesn’t stop his assault, increasing the pace of his fingers while you scribble out numbers and draw electron pairs. Your orgasm inches towards you, like a freight train going at full speed. Chanhee curls his middle finger, tripping you up and causing you to write down a wrong number on accident. Ever the perceptive, he relaxes his wrist and retracts his hand, the band in your stomach loosening along with it.

“Please, Chanhee,” you cry, tears beginning to roll down your cheeks. “Need to cum so bad.”

“Mm-mm,” he scolds. “Not until you finish the structure properly. C’mon, I know you can be a good girl for me.”

You force yourself to persevere, bottom lip between your teeth when he slips his fingers back into your pussy. Pretending like you weren’t on the cusp of euphoria was making you dizzy, but it was necessary if you wanted to reach it completely. You couldn’t handle a third denial.

Chanhee speeds up his fingers, adding his thumb on your clit for extra stimulation. It was like he did enjoy watching you suffer. Perhaps he really was a masochist. You scrawl the last electron bond of the structure, releasing the pencil from your grasp and throwing your head back with a low whine. He hums in appreciation at a job well done.

“Oh my god,” you moan softly, looking down at where his hand disappears in your skirt. “Feels s-so good.”

“Yeah?” Chanhee goads, peppering kisses on your jaw and nibbling at your pulse point. “Ready to cum for me, pretty? Gonna cum all over my fingers?”

You can’t even reply, his cocky voice filling your head as he finally permits your orgasm, walls convulsing and clenching around his digits with a wail. It hasn’t even occurred to you that you’re in a very public, very open space, where anyone could walk in at any given moment. Your brain is too foggy from your overstimulated cunt and the comprehension that Choi Chanhee just fucking fingered you to even consider the consequences of the location.

It only takes a few seconds for you to come to, your body catching up with your head. You look at Chanhee with eyes resembling those of a prey cornered by its predator.

“Why is your hand still inside my skirt?”

“‘S warm down there,” he shrugs with a sly smile. “Besides, I’m not really done with you yet.”

“What are you talking about…?” You trail off, throat dry from how winded this guy was making you.

“You still need some practice before your midterm, no? And I kinda wanna see how pretty you look under me.”

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gyeomsweetgyeom · 1 year

Text

[6:19 pm]

cw: mostly angst, i said shit a few times, read more bc she's a little long

Being in a relationship with Jeno was much different than being just friends. He still knew you better than anyone else thanks to many years of friendship, but that didn’t mean there weren’t difficulties in the relationship, especially so early on.

There was the issue in the first few months of lack of affection. Going from friends to lovers was simple sure, the titles changed, but Jeno was still treating you like a friend at first. He showed you almost no affection which made you question whether or not you were really even in a relationship. You both talked it out, and the problem was resolved.

Now there was the very apparent issue of being busy. When you were just friends it was easy to just take a break from each other until the stress was gone or you were both less busy, but that’s not how you wanted your romantic relationship to work. You weren’t trying to point fingers at just Jeno, you were busy too, but it had come to a head about a month ago when Jeno had forgotten your birthday.

You were never one that was for big celebrations on your birthday, but you were kind of excited to see how your birthday with Jeno as your boyfriend would be different. The difference had been that he miraculously remembered the dinner he had helped plan with your friend group and showed up 30 minutes late. He was able to recover from that with a lot of groveling, apologies, and a day fully dedicated to you.

Needless to say he felt very bad and had promised to never make a mistake like that again. But here you were, on your one year anniversary sitting in your favorite diner, alone.

You had both agreed on nothing big, your anniversary fell in the middle of the week and he had been so stressed and busy with work. You hadn't seen him in person for just over a week, just facetimes and text conversations that were always short because he fell asleep 90% of the time.

You had both made the plans for dinner a few days ago, he had confirmed the time and told you that he couldn't wait to see you, only after he made you promise you hadn't gotten him anything. You had lied, of course you got him something, he just wouldn't be getting it today now.

You gave him a 20 minute grace period, maybe practice was running long and you'd be getting a text soon. Then 40 minutes passed with no communication and you just ordered for yourself. Then an hour later with nothing from Jeno, you paid your bill and went home. He hadn't responded to any of your texts and your calls went straight to voicemail.

Unfortunately for you, you could tell from Instagram stories that Jeno was very much safe and having fun with his friends drinking beer and bowling like it wasn't your anniversary. To say you were furious would be an understatement. He made the plans, he wanted to go out even though you insisted on just doing something intimate at home, he left you sitting alone in a restaurant feeling sick to your stomach with nerves over whether or not he was ok.

The next day, you ignored his texts, letting him know with one text that you were fine but needed some space from him to clear your head. He had spammed you with confused texts asking what he did, if there was anything he could do, if there was anything you needed, which though sweet, just deepened the hole he dug for himself. He still had no idea.

Now, you were sitting on your couch watching your favorite guilty pleasure reality show when there was s series of heavy knocks against your door. You heard your name, "Can you just let me know that you're ok? You've been ignoring me all day."

You scoffed, he didn't like it when the shoe was on the other foot? Serves him right. He persisted with his knocking making you sigh with a roll of your eyes before you walked over to the door and pulled it open.

"Oh, thank goodness. Why have you been ignoring me? What did I do?" Jeno questioned.

You turned and grabbed his neatly wrapped gift, pushing it into his chest, "I don't know, how about you ask the guys? Happy anniversary, Jeno."

The door closed, as he stared blankly at the door with his jaw hanging. Shit.

He started again with the knocking, his mind running a million miles a minute trying to think of some way to fix this. Of course you didn't answer. Hell, he wouldn't open the door if he was in your shoes either.

The knocking had stopped, which saddened you because Jeno had put so little effort into fixing things. You felt like you had done a good job at stopping the tears, but now you couldn't help it. Maybe you were better as friends, maybe being in a relationship had completely ruined all the history you had together, maybe that was Jeno leaving your life for good.

You openly sobbed, doing nothing to fight the endless stream of tears or loud sobs.

You didn't even know how long you had been crying when a knock came from the door. It was probably one of your neighbors begging you to shut up because your ugly sobs were getting irritating.

You wiped your face and stood straight, ready to apologize when you faced them, but it wasn't a neighbor. It was Jeno, "Can I come in? Please."

You stepped aside, watching as he paced across the length of your living area. "I don't know where to start," he mumbled to himself.

"Ok, then I'll start. Do you even want to be in a relationship with me?" You asked.

He froze, looking up from the carpet with a hurt look on his face, "Baby, of course I do. Why would you even ask me that?"

"Things were easier when we were just friends Jeno, you have to admit that. There was less pressure on us to put any effort for anything. There have been so many issues between us since we started dating, and I don't know if I want to keep putting our friendship at risk if I'm going to keep getting disappointed and hurt."

"Keep hurting you?" Jeno questioned out loud.

"For the first four months of us dating you wouldn't kiss me or hold my hand and I was the one who planned all our dates. Even though you were the one to ask me out and you knew how hesitant I was for things to change between us. You forgot my birthday and showed up to a dinner you helped plan half an hour late, and a year into this you ditched me on our first anniversary to hang out with our friends when you planned the date. I was worried sick wondering if you were even safe, blowing up your phone only to see that you were perfectly ok getting drunk while I sat alone in a restaurant." You told him.

He sighed, taking a second to gather his thoughts, there was no use in him arguing, because you were right. "I know me saying sorry isn't going to fix things, but I still feel like I should say it. You're right, I've been a shit boyfriend, but I want to be with you."

"You keep saying that but then you continue to mess up bigger than the time before and I get more hurt, I don't want to keep getting hurt Jeno."

He pulled you into his embrace, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, "I don't want to keep hurting you. You deserve so much better than me, I know that, but I also know how much I love you and it will always be you for me. There is no combination of all the letters of any language that could put into words the way you make every time I think of you. You're on my mind every second of everyday, I see you in the sunshine on a sunny day, I see you in the flowers that bloom in the warm weather, and the plant you make me keep in my room. I see you in all the little things that make life so great. I never want to lose you."

You shed a few tears, tilting your head back to look him in the eyes, "I need you to show me that then Jeno, I need you to try because I don't know how much more I can keep letting you get away with."

He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, "I'll make it up to you and be the best boyfriend and best friend all in one. You're it for me baby, and I'm going to show you that."

You nodded against his chest, "I'm trusting you with my heart, Jeno."

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five-bi-five-mind · 1 year

Note

Maya and reader were together for 2 and a half years before Maya lost her job as captain of station 19, and reader broke up with her due to Maya's distance and behaviour toward the team and reader. reader than transfers to another firehouse, Maya goes through therapy and turns down the captain position and fights to get reader back.

I Wish I Was the Moon

Fandom: Station 19

Pairing: Maya Bishop x fem!reader

Words: 9.7k+

Genre: Angst, Hurt & Comfort, Smut

Summary: Maya hit rock bottom and along the way she lost the most important thing to her. It wasn't captain, she realized that quickly into her downward spiral. No, it was you. She had to do something to fix this, but she knew it started with herself. Would Maya be able to fix herself in time to win you back? Would you ever be willing to give her just one more chance?

Warnings: Alcohol mention; toxic relationship-ish depiction; mental health and therapy is a big theme; fingering (r!receiving); top!Maya, bottom!r; nipple play; marking.

A/N: Okay, this isn't exactly the same as the prompt so bear with me... but it's really close. Also did I put my own twist on an existing scene? Yes, yes I did. Also, the fic is named after the song with the same name that gave me inspiration. It's by Ewan J Phillips. Maybe listen while you read!

Maya was doing better. She really was. It was the first time she could say that in months, maybe even years. She was working on herself, she was putting in the effort.

Therapy had a lot to do with this. From regular sessions came the ability to regulate her emotions when things felt too intense. It helped her process trauma, not just the trauma she experienced as an adult either, but childhood trauma too. It shocked her, how healing it could be to process everything. It was hard to really fully come to terms with all of it. Memories that she had hurt, but she didn’t have a word for why. Now it felt less painful since she finally understood herself and what had happened throughout her life.

Of course, therapy itself was something she was originally reluctant to do. It was something she was too headstrong to think she needed it, until she finally tried. She didn’t try for her though. No, if she was being honest, what got her to first make an appointment and then— after three cancellations —to finally show up, was you.

When you left, Maya told herself she didn’t need anyone, didn’t need you. That quickly became obvious to her that she was seriously lying to herself. You left because she pushed you away when she lost her position as captain. She became irritable when you asked for her to be more open. This irritability led to fights and fights led you to distance yourself from her eventually too. Then, after one night of fighting back and forth, you left to cool off. When you came back in, Maya rounded on you without skipping a beat. That was the last straw for you.

Maya still winced at the thought of the words that left her mouth that night. Accusing you of cheating, that the space you were taking was just to fuck someone new. She had thrown in your face that you two weren’t fucking, so it only made logical sense that you were out finding someone else. Of course, the words Maya used were more colorful.

She could still see the hurt in your eyes when she said them. She still remembered the way you didn’t yell back, instead you just stood utterly silent. The next thing she knew, you were packing up your things and officially moved out of her apartment.

The weeks to come, Maya didn’t run after you. She didn’t try to call or talk or anything. Maya had foolishly convinced herself that you needed her more than she needed you; that you’d be back. She wasn’t going to call first. You had to. But you didn’t and it made Maya spiral even more. Things got worse for her. At work it was a constant reminder of her loss of captain. At home, her apartment reminded her too much of her loss of you. So, she went out to bars in the evenings often. A little too often.

That drinking led to bad decisions. One particular night was definitely her rock bottom. She had decided to call you. Drunk off her ass and angry she was stumbling into a dark apartment without you had her thinking irrationally. Her hands moved before her mind really comprehend what she was doing. Maya saw your name on the screen and immediately hit call.

“You just gave up,” she slurred into the phone the minute she heard your tired, confused greeting from the other line. “How could you just give up?”

“M… Maya?” Your voice sounded exhausted. Somewhere in Maya’s drunken brain she knew she shouldn’t be calling you at 2AM, but at that moment she didn’t care.

“You left and now I come home to nothing,” Maya pressed. “I lost… I lost my dreams and then— then you left me. You gave up on us. What was it? Because you’re ashamed I got demoted?”

“Maya, I did not give up on us.” Your voice sounded clearer now and Maya’s mouth snapped shut at the frustration she heard on the other end of the line. “You pushed me away. You forced me to leave.”

“That- I-“ Maya was at a loss for words. The way you sounded, it wasn’t broken like Maya had thought, it wasn’t sad. It was angry. In those few words, drunk or not, Maya knew you were absolutely right.

A sigh came from the other end and Maya turned her attention to her phone again. “Look, Maya, are you okay? Are you home?” You didn’t have to be there to know she was very much not sober. She might have made the last few months with her hell, but you still cared. You couldn’t just easily erase the history you had with her or turn off your feelings.

“I’m… yes, I’m home.” Maya couldn’t think of anything else to say. Her hand dropped and her phone slid from her palm onto the couch. Her thumb tapped the screen to hang up and then she just sat there. Her mind spun from your words and from the alcohol. Even in her inebriated state, she knew from your tone of voice, just how hurt you were by her.

The day after was no easier. She had curled up on the couch that night, not bothering to change or move before she passed out. There was a small hope in her drunken mind that she would forget those devastating words you said, but of course she didn’t. They replayed in her mind from the moment she woke up and nursed her hangover to the minute she went to bed.

It was after that night that she decided to fix herself. You never called to follow up. Your silence was something that Maya knew she deserved, but still wished was otherwise. So, Maya became determined. She would fix this, but it started with her. No more drunken calls, no more lashing out. The next time she saw you, she’d prove she was a better version of herself, one that deserved your love again.

Logically, Maya realized this transformation wouldn’t happen over night. There were times where she wanted to be impatient and reach out. Her therapist worked with her on this though, advising her to wait until she was sure she was ready. Therapy helped her be honest with herself, and so many times she wanted to see you, but she knew she wasn’t ready.

Until she finally was. She had discussed this in detail with her therapist. There was a plan being made, one she was eager to implement. Months had gone by, so this wouldn’t be easy. But Maya had a newfound passion and knew that this new outlook, this better version of Maya, wasn’t complete until she had her love back in her arms.

So, she planned to show up at your door. Flowers in hand, ready to beg on her knees for you to hear her out for even just one minute. She knew she didn’t deserve that for what she put you through, but she was willing to try. She had to try. From the moment she met you, she felt like you and her were meant to be. When she finally was to enact her plan, it had to go well. But things really never are that simple.

Running into you totally disarmed her. You looked vibrant. The last time she saw you, like really saw you, you were just so… broken. She knew, deep down, that she did that to you. But now… Now you’re glowing, you’re thriving and it made her disgusted with herself. All these negative feelings that she had worked through for months suddenly bubbled to the surface the minute her eyes landed on your face.

There you were, on the other side of the cafe Maya had stopped at, smiling at someone she didn’t recognize. How much time really has passed? Maya knew it had been months, but she was trying not to dwell and count. Apparently enough time had passed for you to move on. At least that’s what it looked like. Obviously, you would move on from her. Maya knew, realistically, you had every right to move on, but she hoped you’d wait for her to right her wrongs. God how she hoped.

But clearly, you didn’t. Maya treated you like shit so you left. It made sense. You gave her chance after chance after chance, of course there would be a breaking point. Of course, there would be a process that Maya didn’t see where you would pick yourself up from the wreckage she left you in and find someone else who would give you all the things Maya promised. The reality of it was that Maya failed to follow through on every single thing she said to you. Well, all but one. She told you she would never stop loving you. This promise happened once on a night when she held you tight and was scared you’d slip through her fingers. She remembered the ways your breath hitched and your eyes shone as she looked down at your face in the moonlight and made that promise.

She remembered that promise so vividly. When the storm was coming down hard and you both listened with the window open, wrapped in each other’s arms. The setting was quiet, calming even despite the thunder booming outside. The feeling of you wrapped in her arms warmed her heart and she had never felt more complete than in that moment, so she said, “There’s never been someone I loved more completely than you.” You looked up at her with wide eyes filled with the most hopeful emotions. Then she followed “And I promise, that won’t ever change.” And it didn’t. Even if you didn’t look at her the same way, or at all now, she still loved you with her entire heart. Despite all the ugliness of your last few months together, it still was the truest feeling she’s ever had. Each night she laid down in an empty bed she ached for not just another body next to her, because that wouldn’t suffice. No, she ached for you and you alone.

When Maya saw you, you didn’t see her. She had decided she needed to get out of there as fast as possible. After her order had come out, she snatched her coffee as fast as she possibly could. Her head stayed turned from you as she made her way past your table and to the exit. Of course, she was trying so hard to avoid your gaze that she didn’t pay attention to where she was going.

She fully bumped into another random man, her coffee falling to the floor and spilling all over the place. Apology after apology flew from her lips as she still tried to keep her head down and clean up her mess. When she popped back up with a handful of coffee soaked napkins though, that’s when her eyes met yours.

You were shocked, staring back at her with eyes wide. “Maya?” Your voice was full of surprise and not resentment, which relieved Maya for a second. But then your eyes flicked to the confused person next to you and Maya’s eyes followed before landing back on your face.

The look you gave her next killed her. It was a look of guilt and pity. One that crushed Maya’s heart into a million pieces. So, she fled.

If you had followed her, Maya didn’t notice. She walked with as much speed as she could without breaking into a full blown sprint. Her eyes stung, but she refused to cry.

This whole encounter threw off everything for her. She had to rethink everything she planned. Was it still possible to win you back? Was it too late? Should she even try?

Those were all the questions she flung at her therapist the moment she sat down for her next session. What she was reminded of was that she had no answers for what was going on and who she saw with you. Therefore, she had no answers for the previous questions she posed.

The new plan was still to reach out, but be more casual about it. Ask for coffee and discuss all the ways you may have changed and how Maya had been doing. Focus on you first and then perhaps Maya can move onto her proposal to restart. This plan positioned herself so that she could learn who that person was and what the situation might be before putting her heart right on the line.

She wasn’t ready for all of that just yet though. There was a greater potential for rejection now. Maya told herself she was too scared to know the truth so she would wait a bit longer. Even if waiting was knowing she could possibly be pushing you closer to this mysterious person, she just couldn’t muster up the courage. But, much like the coffee shop incident, life had other plans.

In the months you two had been apart, Maya hadn’t run into you at all. Now, suddenly, she bumps into you two weeks in a row before she was really ready to. It was like some kind of cosmic cruel joke.

Again, when she saw you, she felt utterly disarmed. She was just trying to enjoy a nice run when she ran straight up to you. Not intentionally, of course, she was off in her own little world. Her mind was wrapped up in you, so to hear your voice say her name as she passed had her utterly freeze in shock.

“Hi…” Maya said hesitantly as she turned to see your face staring back at her. This time, thankfully, you appeared to be alone.

“Hi.” Your voice had just as much hesitation as hers. “How… um, how are you?”

“Good,” Maya nodded, trying to catch her breath and calm her heart rate. She didn’t think it was the run that was elevating it. “Yeah, I’m good.” And it was true to an extent, even if she was internally panicking.

She hadn’t thought it would go this awkward. Maybe it was naive, but she assumed everything would just… click when she was one-on-one with you again. But instead, you were anxious and she was tense.

Maya took a deep breath, remembering the exercises given to her in her sessions. It helped ground her and get her bearings. “How are you?” Maya finally managed to ask after a long, awkward pause.

“I’m okay.” If there was one thing Maya knew, it was how to read your eyes. Your tone sounded fine, but that answer didn’t reach your eyes. In fact, as Maya looked on at your face, she thought you looked tired. Maybe even quite a bit sad. She wondered if she read you wrong at the coffee shop. If maybe you weren’t as happy as you seemed. Did your smile reach your eyes that day? Maya was too taken aback by suddenly seeing you that she didn’t pay much attention then.

“Yeah?” Maya questioned.

You nodded and for a moment that awkward pause was back. “Maya, about the other day…” you finally broke the silence.

“You don’t need to explain.”

“Yeah, but— I don’t know, I feel like I should.” Your voice got quieter as you spoke and Maya shook her head. She offered you a sad smile and more guilt washed over you.

“You don’t owe me an explanation.” Maya honestly hoped you wouldn’t give one. Not yet, she still wasn’t ready to hear it yet. “It’s okay really.”

But then, as you both stood, shuffling awkwardly and trying to find the right words, or any words for that matter, Maya felt the nagging curiosity bubble up in her. Maybe if she did ask, it would be better now than later. She could rip off the bandaid. She didn’t want details, but she just wanted to know. It could determine if there was hope. If she had a reason to hold on to it; to you. So, she asked the scariest, but most simple question to end this internal debate that she could think of.

“Is it serious?” Maya tried to play it off as a casual question, but deep down the answer you would give her would hold an important weight in her heart that you were entirely unaware of.

“No,” you gave her a small, sad smile. “We just met that day.”

Maya couldn’t help herself, she really couldn’t. She had to know. As much as your answers could rip her heart right out, she just had to. “Has there been anyone serious?”

“No, Maya,” you sighed. It wasn’t a sigh of frustration, but one that sounded just so disheartening to Maya’s ears. “Not since…”

“Me,” Maya finished.

You just nodded in a response. The look on your face said it all. The pain was still right there on the surface. There’s a discomfort between you two. Things were still broken. Of course they would be, Maya thought. It’s not like you two tried to talk after you walked out. She just let you walk away and she was sure you probably held that against her even today. You two didn’t try to be friends, you didn’t try to be anything after it all went down. It was just radio silence apart from that drunken night. But Maya could feel that there was still so much left unsaid. It wasn’t just her that wanted to talk, but she could see in your eyes that you did too. If you didn’t, you could’ve just walked on. Yet, you stayed. It was awkward and public, but you still stood in front of her, shuffling your feet, as you waited for more words to come. So a talk was definitely necessary and obviously overdue. The question is, would you be willing to actually sit down and talk with her?

She had to try, right? You were, well, you. The person on Maya’s mind every single day even if you weren’t currently in her life. Her greatest love that still held all of her heart. She had to try.

“Could we… I don’t know.” Maya was really struggling to get these words out there. No matter how many times she practiced this in her head after running into you, doing it was harder. She had to be brave though. She knew this moment wouldn’t come again for a long time. It had been so long since she saw you. Last week didn’t count, this meeting was different; face-to-face. A rare coincidence that suddenly presented her with so many options. What would happen if she let this chance pass her by? When would it come next? Would that girl you were with still be nothing serious? Maya couldn’t risk that. “Could we maybe grab dinner sometime?”

“Why?” It wasn’t a harsh question. You weren’t being defensive when you asked, but you were being cautious. Maya understood that and honestly she appreciated it even. But the question still took her aback.

“I just- I think we should talk.” Maya searched your eyes for any type of negativity to her request. She was really putting herself on the line. Not just with asking you to talk, but actually telling you that she was willing to. And talk she would. She would say everything that was left unsaid and she would let you say what you needed to say too of course. Maya could show you that she’s different, that she’s better, that she changed. Maybe then you’d give her just one last chance. She had no right to ask you for any more, not when so much time had passed. But god fucking dammit she wanted you back so badly.

“I’ve been seeing a therapist and working on myself,” Maya continued. “I just want the chance to— to show you how far I’ve come.” The mention of therapy shocked you. It was something you asked her to consider, but all you were met with was a scoff. As your eyes searched Maya’s face, you realized how sincere she was. She seemed to be very honest about her claims.

You wished you could relate. That you could say you worked on yourself in the time you two were apart. Truthfully, when Maya saw you it was the first time you decided to stop drowning in your heartbreak and find someone new. The sight of Maya that day had ruined that resolve.

Secretly, after that day, you hoped to see her again. Part of you wished she would call, but she didn’t. If you called, you felt like that was betraying every promise you made to yourself after leaving her. She needed to change to make it work, to stop hurting you, but you were scared she wasn’t capable of that.

So, you didn’t call. But when you saw her running towards you, on a route you knew she took, you couldn’t stop yourself from stopping her. Part of you still felt shocked to see her again, but really it was you lying to yourself. There was a strong chance you’d see her, and you knew that. You told yourself you needed the walk for fresh air, but there was more to it. The need to just talk to her, for even a moment, was too great. You wanted to know how she was doing, if she was okay. That drunken call still ran through your head and made you sick with worry.

When you saw her at the cafe, though, you thought she looked good. There was an inkling of hope, which is why you found yourself here trying to “accidentally” bump into her. And it all played out how you wanted.

But then she wanted dinner and to actually talk and you realized you were playing a dangerous game. If she hurt you all over again, honestly you didn’t think you could survive it. All you’ve done for months is lay in an unfamiliar, empty apartment you managed to find when you left. It didn’t feel like home, it felt depressing. You were sufficating in your heartbreak and just starting to pick up the pieces. If she was lying to get you back, only to treat you so badly again, it would destroy you for good this time.

“I don’t know…” Your eyes fell as you tried to find the right words to let her down.

“Just one dinner and then, if you want, you never have to hear from me again.” Maya’s plea had squeezed at your heart. The moment you made the mistake of looking back up at her, your resolve broke. She was so hopeful and yet so scared at the same time. “Just one dinner,” She repeated and you shocked yourself when you nodded in agreement.

“One,” you whispered.

“Good.” Maya’s smile was hesitant, but her eyes sparkled as she realized you were giving her a chance. Maybe it wasn’t a chance to get back together and make up for all the pain Maya caused, but it was a start. “This weekend, let’s go to that Italian restaurant… the one you love so much.”

You knew the exact one. Maya wasn’t subtle. It was your first date, which is possibly why it was your favorite place. It was romantic and intimate. A good place to talk, but also a good place to get lost in Maya’s presence and lose your resolve even more.

Still you couldn’t help but agree. “I’ll meet you there.” You knew if you drove there at least you wouldn’t be going home with her even if you wanted to. Maya nodded, giving you her most charming smile that used to make you swoon. It still did, if you were being completely honest.

Your smile was nervous as you returned it, but still there was a flutter in your stomach that you hadn’t felt in a long time. The last time was before Maya got demoted, when that bright smile was turned your way almost every day. Seeing it again, you didn’t realize how much you missed it.

Both of you parted after a moment. Maya’s jog continued but this time instead of spiraling in anxiety about potentially losing you forever, she was happy. Her plan was to talk, really it was, but as she ran her mind daydreamed about all the romantic possibilities that could happen after.

You, on the other hand, were preoccupied with very different thoughts. Ones of re-lived heartbreak and broken promises. The rest of that evening you spent spiraling and consumed in regret and fear of the what ifs.

---------------------------------------------

The weekend came faster than you expected it to. In the days that followed your last encounter with Maya, your mind was fixated on so many worst case scenarios. Maya, on the other hand, was the exact opposite.

She was nervous, sure, but she was also confident. She had her foot back in the door, she could try to convince you that she had changed. Logically, she knew jumping back into it all with you would be nearly impossible. It wasn’t like she wasn’t ready for that or for you. She knew she was ready to have it all with you, to have you back home and in the bed you once shared with her. It was all she wanted now. Screw captain, she had dropped the fantasy of getting it back somewhere in the second month of regular therapy sessions. Recently, it had even been reoffered to her and it was just as much of a shock to the station as it was to herself when she rejected the opportunity to snatch the position again.

Somewhere in the process of self improvement, she realized that wasn’t actually what she wanted. What she did want was her life back. That wasn’t possible, she decided, without you. But, not only did she want her life back, she wanted it to be better. For you. It’s what you deserved and she realized that now. She had taken you for granted and she was going to spend the rest of her life making it up to you if you’d let her.

That was another thing. Part of her plan was ambitious. She had wanted to eventually prove her dedication to you with a ring she had long hidden in the drawer next to her side of the bed, waiting for just the right chance. This was part of her plan that she had in mind before she saw you on that coffee date and if she was being honest, it was a part she tried to let go of again before she saw you on her run. When she saw you at the coffee shop, she had tried to calm herself, realizing the minute she felt ready that she was getting a little too excited. She had expected you to be hesitant, mad even, but she had held onto this naive idea that you were waiting for her to better herself.

Even if she tried to calm herself down and not get her hopes up, she couldn’t help it. The closer she got to Saturday the more hopeful she got. Her mind wandered to the daydreams she used to have about a future with you, a wedding, a house… All those big things. There were butterflies in her stomach that she hadn’t felt since she got demoted. It really felt like everything was coming together for her.

That is, until about two hours before you both had agreed to meet.

While she was eagerly getting dressed in the nicest possible outfit, you were sitting frozen on your bed, staring at the clock tick away closer and closer to when it was time to see her. Your mind was running in circles about how you were setting yourself up to get hurt again, how you were going along with this all too easily. It was a big step to see Maya and who’s to say she really has changed? Or what if she has changed, but would stop working on herself the minute she had you back? She could lean on you, sure, you were always there to support her, but you didn’t want to be her emotional punching bag again. You didn’t want the cold shoulder when she came home, the accusations, the walking on eggshells. You didn’t know what was worse, living with a shell of the woman you loved or being without her completely. But as these months went on, and that emptiness sunk in, you had gotten used to it. Maybe it was better than the constant pain, rejection, and resentment Maya had directed towards you? Or maybe you just got comfortable in it?

Either way you were scared, so you made a choice. It was one solely made out of fear, one that you chose without truly thinking over it in a logical way. You sent a text on impulse.

Maya saw her phone light up as she was out already, trying to pick up a few of your favorite things before the date really started. With your favorite flowers in hand, she opened the text and her stomach dropped.

I can’t see you tonight. I’m sorry.

That was all you gave her and honestly, Maya understood. She really did, but she was still crushed.

The flowers she had in her hand were left forgotten on the cashier counter as she just walked straight out the door.

The minute you sent that text your heart sank. You saw the three dots on the text thread start for a moment and then nothing. There was no reply, all it said was that it was read about a minute after you had sent it. You fell back on the bed, regretting the decision almost immediately and knowing just how much that had to hurt Maya. But it was for the best, right? That’s what you were telling yourself. It would save you both pain in the long run. It would save her from seeing you leave again, seeing you not be strong enough to stay by her side when she’s going through the worst of it.

The guilt was killing you.

Eventually, about three hours later and what would’ve been an hour into the dinner you were supposed to have, you got tired of wallowing. You needed to eat, you didn’t have the emotional energy to cook, and maybe it would be good to get yourself up and moving. That way you couldn’t break your resolve, which for three hours had been seriously slipping. You lost count of the amount of times you typed and deleted an apology text to send to her. Of course, none of them got sent. If you sent one then there would be a possibility to reschedule and that reschedule would lead to all these feelings again. You couldn’t do that and you couldn’t put Maya through that.

So, by some miracle, you got yourself back out of bed. You walked, on autopilot, to your favorite pizza place to get some food. Honestly, you were probably quite the sight. You didn’t bother to do much other than get dressed in a comfortable t-shirt and jeans. There were probably still tear stains on your cheeks from how overwhelmed you felt by your emotions over tonight and your hair was definitely a mess, considering you buried yourself between two pillows and willed yourself to sleep off the horrible feelings. Sleep never came, so here you were.

As you made your way into the restaurant and got in line to order, you really didn’t pay much attention to your surroundings. So, when you completely missed Ben Warren with his family sitting at a table, it was only understandable to take no notice. But he definitely saw you.

His head perked up and his eyebrows arched high in surprise. Maya had been talking all week about tonight, so to see you here and also in such a state of dishevelment was really shocking. But then he put the pieces together. You looked rough, but he didn’t think it was because of your interaction with Maya.

What he should’ve done was mind his own business, but he had a soft spot for you and Maya and once he saw how dead on your feet you looked, he couldn’t stop himself. With determination, while you remained completely oblivious to his presence, he walked up behind you and cautiously tapped your shoulder.

You turned slowly, not really thinking about who was behind you or what they could want. The emotional exhaustion was too strong for you to honestly care much about anything. You really just wanted to get food and go. Even then, you weren’t sure you were going to eat it. At least you’d try though.

Then, as you turned and realized who it was, that’s when you jumped out of your skin. This was the last thing you wanted– Well, maybe not the last thing since it wasn’t actually Maya who was standing in front of you– But still, seeing someone she worked with was not much better. God, you hoped he didn’t know that you had plans with Maya. If he did, then it would be very obvious that you blew her off. He was her friend before he was yours. In fact, you weren’t sure if he really was your friend. Ben was kind and caring of course, but he was like that with everyone.

The last thing you wanted was for him to look at you with any sort of disappointment or disapproval. What if his reaction was worse? That kind and welcoming side you had learned to associate with Warren could go away completely if he knew where you were supposed to be tonight. You really couldn’t get chewed out by him for hurting his friend. That wasn’t something you had the emotional capacity for tonight. Surely, Maya didn’t tell everyone. She wouldn’t, right? Thinking back to the dynamic you witnessed between her and her station and how everyone was a big family… the odds weren’t in your favor.

“What are you doing here?” Warren’s question was gentle, he waited to ask when the shock of seeing him finally washed from your face and was replaced with one of hesitation. He didn’t seem mad and, in fact, it was almost like he already knew the answer, but your heart still sank when you heard the question either way. “Aren’t you supposed to be meeting with Maya? It’s all she’s talked about this week.”

So he did know. Of course, he knew. “Warren, hi… I- she told you about it?”

“It’s all she’s been talking about,” he said with no hint of humor in his voice. You swallowed hard at the look on his face. Not disapproving, but still serious.

“I- I couldn’t go,” you stammered. “It didn’t seem like a good idea. She said she changed— I don’t know. Look I should go.” You took a step back and your eyes darted to the exit. It was a bad idea to come out, you were seriously regretting that now. Food be damned, all you wanted to do was crawl back into bed.

Seeing as Warren didn’t seem to want to stop you, you turned to leave. Even if you came here to get your comfort food before you spent the night, yet again, wallowing in heartbreak, your appetite was gone. Plus, you couldn’t stand the way he looked at you right now, the guilt of it was making you feel nauseous.

“She gave up captain.” Warren’s voice stopped you dead in your tracks.

“What did you say…” Your question trailed off as you turned to him again.

“She gave up captain for you.” He repeated. What he said was something Maya didn’t even plan to tell you, not yet anyways. It was the last part of her process before she realized she was ready to try again with you, ready to show you she was better. And it was also the one thing you never thought you’d hear, one Maya knew would shock you to your core. She didn’t want you to know until she actually had you in her arms again, lest you think it was a tactic to get you back the easy way without even proving herself first. But, as Warren stood and saw how terrified you clearly were to jump into things with Maya again, he knew he had to nudge.

“Warren…” It felt like the wind got knocked out of you. “That can’t be true. She wants that more than anything.”

“No,” Warren shook his head. “There’s something she wants more.” His face said it all, he didn’t have to tell you what that thing was. It was so clearly you.

You were at a loss for words. Your heart was beating faster by the second as realization washed over you.

“I suggest,” Warren’s voice was gentle now, “ you go see her. Tonight.”

You nodded, your feet backing away from the man yet again, but this time when you turned for the door it was for a different reason.

A million questions ran through your mind and you felt even worse about canceling on her now. You should’ve given her a chance to talk. You should’ve heard her out. If what he was saying was true then it changed everything. There was nothing bigger than the claim he just made. Warren didn’t lie either, you knew he was a trustworthy man. So you knew, deep down, the claim was true.

Your feet carried you home faster than you thought capable. It was like your body was on autopilot while your mind raced. You stopped to grab your car keys before peeling out of your apartment parking lot and speeding towards your destination. You knew exactly where you wanted to go before you even really processed that you were already heading that way. It was rash. You had just spent the whole week worrying about being close to Maya again, hearing Maya out, opening yourself up to heartbreak. Now, though, everything was different. Now, you were suddenly ready to throw caution to the wind.

Ben said the exact words you needed to hear to let go of any of your hesitations. Yes, you should’ve heard Maya out and yes, what you did wasn’t the best. But you were going to listen now, or try to. Even if your mind was in a million places at once, the only thing you knew was that you needed to see her.

So when you found yourself at her apartment, you didn’t think to text or call her to warn her you were coming or to tell her you were there even when you slammed the car door and rushed to her unit. There was no hesitancy in the way you went straight to her door and knocked profusely.

You definitely seemed like a crazy person, but you didn’t really care at that moment. Did you have a plan? No, but all you knew was that you needed to make this right. You’d hear her out, you’d listen for hours, you’d do whatever it took later. But as you waited anxiously for her to come to the door, this feeling inside you grew. It was one that told you to just fling yourself into her arms. Warren gave you all the reason you needed for you to let go of your trepidations. So if you could get her to open the door for you, you might just do exactly that.

Finally, the door swings open and Maya’s irritated face twisted into utter shock the moment she saw you on the other side. It was almost comical to see just how flabbergasted she was. But then, as you took her appearance in, you realized she was probably wallowing in the same way you were the moment she read your text.

“(Y/N), hi what are you-”

“I have some stuff to say and I need you to just listen.” You interrupted her. She nodded immediately and stepped aside to let you in. You walked right past her and into the middle of her apartment. An apartment you used to share. The strangeness of being back here settled in your stomach like a storm and it just added so much more to your anxiety and confusion. Again, you really didn’t have much of a plan as to what was to come next. You should talk, you really should talk, but also you didn’t want to talk you just wanted… her.

Maya walked in behind you and waited. You paced back and forth in front of her. With each step you took both yours and her anxiety was rising. She had no idea what you were going to say or if it was going to break her heart into tiny pieces. She was already hurting from your actions earlier today. The last thing she expected was to see you show up at her doorstep. This could go either way. But honestly, she was gearing up more for you to say you never wanted to see her again rather than say anything good. But she hoped beyond hope that she was wrong to prepare for that.

Your mind was racing and your heart was pounding in your chest. Ever since you let Maya back into your life (if you could even count the encounters you had as that), you were so afraid of her and the hurt she could possibly bring on top of the hurt you were already feeling from what happened before. But now you get this news? That the one thing she wanted more than anything in the world was offered to her and she said no. That one thing she wanted so badly it broke the both of you was no longer the thing she wanted and it felt like you were living in another reality. How were you supposed to react when Ben, the most honest man you knew, looks you in the eye and says it was you that she wanted most of all now? What do you say to him or, even more importantly, to her after learning that fact?

“We have a lot to talk about,” You were repeating yourself, but it was all you could think of to break the silence.

“I know,” Maya nodded as she watched you pace the room.

“And a lot to work through.”

“I know,” she repeated.

“With this dinner was I… Was this your way of getting things back to the way they were?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Not how they were. A new start.”

“Maya, I- I’m still hurt. You hurt me and I haven’t healed all the way yet. It’s not that easy.”

“I know,” Maya hung her head. “I know, I hurt you. And I know it’s not that easy.”

“But even then… even…” Your words were escaping you and the battle in your mind was fizzling out to just one thing. You were so fucking tired. Tired of hurting from Maya. Tired of working through all of this and “staying strong” whatever the fuck that meant. Fuck sticking with your decision and standing your ground. Fuck being apart from the only woman you think you ever truly loved and would ever love. Fuck all of that. “Even after everything, even after months have passed… God, Maya can you just be kissing me now? Please?”

It didn’t even take Maya two seconds to process your words. In two quick strides she was in front of you, with her hands on either side of your face, pulling you in. It felt like a hurricane of emotions exploding inside you the minute her lips crashed into yours. But god was it just so… so everything. It was painful, it was incredible, it was messy, it was earth shattering. The way she was pressing her lips to yours with so much need, so much love, and so much desperation. And you met every emotion she was giving you into that kiss with your own tenfold. God, this was all you both wanted.

Maya felt like she was about to explode with joy. She knew there was work to be done, she knew you were hurt and the both of you were still broken, but finally there was hope. When she asked you to dinner, never in her wildest dreams did she think this would be happening right now. Especially after the text she received. But this. This moment right here was a sign that those pieces she broke back then could start being put together and that was all she had hoped for the minute you walked out the door. She was going to do everything she possibly could to fix what you two had.

Your hands moved to tangle into Maya’s hair and hers moved to wrap around your waist and pull your body to press against hers. The kiss grew more and more heated with every passing second. It was like you had been starving for her and now finally you got to have a taste again, but it was going to take so much more to satiate you. Maya was in the same boat.

In the back of your mind, you thought maybe you should stop at kissing her and start talking at some point, but then your back hit the wall and Maya’s hands were dipping under your shirt and scratching at your sides. The way she was pressing herself so completely into your body, while also pulling you impossibly closer had your head swimming. A small moan fell from her lips as she kissed you harder and any thought of stopping was totally gone. The overwhelming need to be even closer (if that was possible at this point) overtook you. Plus, you didn’t want to go another night without having her next to you. The thought of going back to your empty apartment, falling asleep alone in bed, without her strong arms around you was the last thing you wanted. Tonight, you wanted Maya and you weren’t going to deny yourself of that any longer.

You were melting into her, your hands gripping at her back desperately as she kissed you with everything she had. The way your tongue ran over hers had both of you groaning against each other’s lips. Maya too thought maybe she should take it slow. Her reasoning was that she was worried she’d scare you off, but then you held her tighter and let her kiss you deeper and she knew that she couldn’t hold back. She’d only stop if you told her to stop, otherwise she was going to finally indulge.

Eventually, Maya’s hands gripped tightly at your waist and she pulled you to walk backwards into the bedroom with her. Not once did she break the kiss and with each step you took with her, she just felt more eager to have you completely again. When both of you crossed the threshold, her hands were immediately tearing at your clothes. Both of you only broke the kiss for her to remove your shirt and bra and then her own, before you both leaned back in.

This time, when she kissed you, she slowed a little. Her tongue licked into your mouth and your nails dug into her bare shoulders. Her hands trailed down your stomach until they reached your jeans. She slipped her fingers into your belt loops and, in one swift move, she had you turned around until your knees hit the edge of the bed and you fell backwards.

You landed with an umph but she didn’t seem to mind, neither did you. She followed you down with her knees resting on the mattress on either side of your hips to hold herself up. Her lips moved from yours to lick and nip down your neck. You were breathing hard and small whines were falling freely from you now.

All the while, Maya was in a state of disbelief. This all felt too good to be true, but then here you were. In her hands, on her bed, laying right beneath her. The very thought of it all just made Maya’s need for you rise.

Her teeth sank into the tender flesh between your neck and collarbone a little harder than she had been nipping at you before. A loud gasp filled the room, but quickly turned into a desperate moan as her tongue ran over the bite mark she left behind.

Usually, when you two were together before, you would complain about her leaving marks and the efforts you’d have to take to hide them the next day. This time was different, though. You didn’t mind her doing it, in fact you wanted her to. In a weird way it was a reminder that Maya seemed to have changed and that she was here with you tonight. So if anything happened after this encounter, at least you had this moment with her. This moment of completely throwing caution to the wind and letting Maya have you completely as she once did.

Maya’s hands tugged at your jeans as her lips and tongue made their way down to your chest. When she lowered her head past your neck, she was finally met with the sight of your perfect bare chest. When Maya had managed to rip off your jeans and toss them somewhere, one hand shot right up to palm at your breast while the other pushed your thigh until you had no choice but to spread your legs and let Maya adjust to kneel between them.

With the way Maya was palming at one nipple, rolling it between her fingers and teasing you, your head was swimming. Then, she took your other in her mouth and your own hand flew to her hair, pressing her closer to your bare breast as she lightly sucked and nipped at it.

Your head had already fallen back onto the pillow, your body already overwhelmed by all the things Maya was doing to it. It was like she never missed a beat. She knew what you liked, she remembered every sensitive spot, every way and place to touch that drove you crazy. When her fingers finally left your inner thigh and moved between your legs to just barely trace the outside of your folds, you couldn’t stop the whimper.

That was one thing about you and Maya. The sex was always amazing because she always paid attention to your body. But she also loved to draw things out, which is exactly what it seemed like she was doing tonight. The way she continued to pay attention to your breasts while just barely ghosting the tips of her fingers over your clit was her way of taking her time. It was also driving you crazy. You didn’t think tonight, of all nights, you could let this be drawn out.

It had been months since you left Maya and even longer since she actually touched you like this. Drawing it out was torture for you. Even though Maya was enjoying this, enjoy your body, she still knew you well. She didn’t miss the frustrated huff when she only traced your entrance but didn’t do much else. She heard the pleading whimpers when her fingers rubbed lazy circles against your clit. As much as she wanted to take her time and absorb every little detail about your body, she wanted to fulfill your needs first.

So, when she entered you with two fingers without warning, the way you gasped out her name felt like the most rewarding sound Maya had ever heard. You still had one hand tangled into her hair and the other moved to wrap around her back as she began to move her fingers inside you.

Maya managed to position herself in a way that whenever she entered her fingers into you, she put her whole body behind it. She rocked into you with each time her fingers pumped inside you. The whole bed creaked and groaned as she continued to fuck you at a steady, but strong pace.

As her pace sped up, Maya buried her head into your neck. Her emotions were high right now. To be with you like this again finally was everything to her. The way you held onto her, the way you felt around her fingers, the way you were about to fall apart at any second because of her— it was so beautiful to her. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she ignored them, knowing they were just a result of how happy she finally was. Her lips reattached to your neck, leaving marks on your skin as you turned your head into the pillow and gave her more access.

When her fingers curled inside you and you cried out her name again, she groaned into your neck. Her free hand moved to grab one of yours and entangle your fingers as she started to pump the two inside you even harder. At this point, she knew you were close. She could feel you tighten around her fingers.

By now all you were doing was moaning her name. Every part of you was overwhelmed by Maya and the intensity was nothing you had experienced before. To go so long without the woman you loved, to not know if you’d ever have her again, made this experience so much more intense.

Your body shook as Maya continued to press her fingers against just the right spot inside you. The hand that was now in yours held tighter and you squeezed back as your body started to approach that edge.

White hot pleasure burst through your whole body finally and you felt yourself tighten even more around the fingers inside you. You let out a pathetic whimper of Maya’s name as you came. She kissed at your neck and your face, murmuring different things about how good you were, how beautiful you looked, and other praises.

Your body relaxed underneath her finally and she slowly and carefully slid her fingers out of you. Maya’s body rested more fully on top of yours once she had and you still struggled to regulate your heartbeat.

A hand came to press against your cheek and Maya leaned up slightly to look at you. You were still panting a little from the intensity of the orgasm, but you managed to focus your eyes and look back. The expression you saw from her took your breath away. Never had you seen her so happy, so radiant in all the time you’ve known Maya. She was smiling down at you with the softest, but most genuine smile you’ve ever seen. Her eyes shined as she stared back at yours and all you could read in them was admiration and happiness.

She leaned down then, her lips pressing against yours in the most gentle kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned up into it, overtaken by the softness that Maya was displaying.

“I know we need to talk,” Maya whispered when she pulled away. “But would you stay the night, please?” You nodded and Maya’s smile only got brighter. “I just want to hold you for the rest of the night. Is that okay?”

“I’d like that,” you managed to say, your voice still rough from the intensity of the events just moments ago.

“Good,” Maya sighed happily. She adjusted then, rolling off you and shimmying out of the rest of her clothes. Then she settled beside you, pulling you into her strong arms where you adjusted until you felt comfortable. There was so much intimacy in this moment, your bare bodies pressed to each other and your head on her chest so close you could hear the beat of her heart. Before you left, before Maya lost captain even, this kind of intimacy was hard for Maya to express. You had learned and accepted that it was a feeling that would come when it did, and that was rare.

But tonight, as Maya’s fingers raked gently through your hair, it felt so natural and easy for her. There didn’t seem to be any difficulty in the affection Maya was showing and your heart skipped a beat as you realized just how much truth she had spoken when she said she changed.

You felt content in this moment, like everything would be okay. No matter what all you had to talk through, no matter the work that still needed to be done, things between you two would be okay. You were right where you were supposed to be and both of you felt that sentiment now more than either of you ever had.

“Maya,” you whispered into the peaceful silence the room had fallen into. “I love you. I never stopped loving you.” Those words had so much emotion, they held so much promise in them, and you hoped Maya understood all of it in the conviction you put behind them.

Maya’s hand paused in your hair for a moment, but you felt the arm around you tighten and pull you closer. “I love you too,” Maya finally said, clearing her throat to avoid the obvious signs of tears that threatened to spill. “I will always love you with everything I have, if you let me. I promise you that.”

It was a new promise that Maya was making to you. What felt like so long ago Maya had held you and said she never loved anyone more completely than you and promised that never would change. Now she is promising you that she will give her all to loving you and being the partner you need. Maya has broken promises, she’s let you down and hurt you in the past. It’s what broke the both of you before. But as you took in her words, you knew, just as she held onto the one promise, she’d hold onto this one as well.

There was healing to do, but Maya was ready to rebuild with you if you’d let her. And as you pulled yourself closer into her body and pressed a kiss over her heart, she knew you were all in to rebuild with her too.

Taglist: @storiesofsvu @geekyandgay98 @desperate-gay @high--power @lovelyy-moonlight @jareguiromanoff @demonicbaby666

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#maya bishop x reader #maya bishop x you #station 19 fic #maya bishop fic #maya bishop #wlw #fanfic #five-bi-five-mind

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fushiglow · 6 months

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a short fic for the prompt: satosugu + first time 🔞

I HOPE YOU ENJOY BABY'S FIRST NSFW FIC!! thank you for the prompt, @lmskitty 🫶 sorry for desecrating it with my utter silliness, i simply cannot help myself. i hope the fluff at the end makes up for it?!

(yeah it's even longer than last time, enjoy 1000 words 💀)

content warning: nsfw, bad oral sex lol

‘How does it feel?’ And wasn’t that just the million dollar question? Truthfully, Suguru couldn’t exactly say it felt good. In fact, the way Satoru was suckling at the end of his cock bordered on painful. He assaulted that sensitive bundle of nerves with suction on the wrong side of ‘just right’. Miraculously, Suguru was still hard. Maybe it was because the image of Satoru on his knees left no space for anything else in his brain, or maybe it was because all the blood in his body was being forcibly siphoned to his dick from the force of Satoru’s sucking. He’d already started mentally preparing himself to approach Shōko with the most mortifying request of his life — because there was no way the vacuum of Satoru’s mouth wasn’t going to leave bruises. In fact, ‘Are you using Blue or something?’ Satoru pulled off him with a painful pop, a confused crease between his brows. ‘What?’ Perhaps not then. Suguru wondered how to phrase it without hurting Satoru’s feelings, chewing at his lip and hoping he passed for horny. ‘Maybe… Do you want to try going a little deeper?’ The more Satoru opened his jaw, the less he’d be able to latch on like he was trying to extract Suguru’s cursed energy through his cock. That was Suguru’s logic — and for precisely 0.2 seconds, it seemed like it was sound. But then Suguru bumped against Satoru’s soft palate, and it was over before it had even begun. Satoru wrenched himself away, falling back onto his heels with a heave that shook his entire body. His hand shot to his lips and he mumbled into the back of it. ‘Fuck.’ Really, Suguru should have known better than to open his mouth when Satoru was furiously blinking away tears, but when he looked at the glistening saliva that reached not even a third of the way down his shaft, he couldn’t help himself. ‘Is that it?’ The reaction was instantaneous. Blue eyes flashing like raw electricity, Satoru clambered to his feet, yanked down his boxers and practically shouted, ‘You have a go if you think it’s so easy!’ Idiot. Suguru had no need to feel intimidated by the thick, angry-looking cock bobbing in front of his face because, in case Satoru had forgotten, taking things down his throat was what Suguru did best. ‘Fine,' he said simply, feeling more than a little smug. Holding Satoru steady, Suguru peered up from under his eyelashes as he surged forward, keen to see the exact moment he rocked Satoru’s world by swallowing him whole. He was so confident in the unique skills derived from his technique that he failed to account for one key detail. Satoru was not, in fact, a metaphysical ball of cursed energy that would glide down his throat without lubrication. Inevitably, there was painful resistance. Satoru hissed, jerking his hips away from Suguru to nurse his chafed cock between his fingers. ‘Shit,’ Suguru rasped, cheeks burning as much as his throat. ‘Shit, I’m sorry—’ ‘It’s fine.’

There was a moment of strained silence where they refused to look at each other, both tending to their bruised egos. Surprisingly, it was Satoru who offered an olive branch first. Wearing a little pout on his lips, he dropped into the space next to Suguru with a huff. ‘We really fucking suck at this, huh.’ The unintentionally apt choice of words hovered in the air between them for a moment. It only took a shared look and a twitch of Suguru’s lips to shatter the tension like glass. All at once, Satoru launched himself in Suguru’s direction, tackling him to the bed and holding him tight as they descended into fits of laughter. Suguru wondered why he’d ever felt nervous about being honest with Satoru when it was as easy as breathing now. ‘That’s actually the whole problem, Satoru.’ He shot his boyfriend a wry smile. ‘You fucking suck a little too much.’ Satoru snorted, thumping him in the chest. ‘At least I know you’ve gotta get a dick wet before you try shoving it down your throat, you asshole.’ Suguru conceded the point with a snort of his own. When their giggles died down, they fell into a comfortable silence, their bodies pressed together just so. Finally, a voice piped up from somewhere in the crook of Suguru’s neck. ‘Let me try again.’ Satoru pushed himself up with some urgency. ‘I’ll do better this time.’ His face was open and vulnerable, but the resolve shining in Satoru’s blue, blue eyes spoke of his eagerness to please. It made Suguru’s heart swell with something they hadn’t yet put a word to. When he spoke, his voice was a little rough. ‘You don’t have to.’ ‘But I want to,’ Satoru insisted. And Suguru found that he felt the same. He wanted to please Satoru. ’Me too.’ Suguru would never get sick of seeing that rare, soft smile. It never lasted on Satoru though. ‘You know, Suguru,’ he said, voice taking on a dangerous thoughtful tone. ‘They say it takes 10,000 hours to master a skill.' A wicked grin overtook his lovely features. ‘But I’ve never met one I couldn’t master in less than 30. Wanna put that to the test?’ God, Suguru wanted that very much — and Satoru clearly knew it. ‘You might have the head-start, Suguru,’ he snickered, eyebrows waggling. ‘But by the end of tomorrow?’ Those blue eyes positively gleamed with mischief. ‘I’ll be able to swallow balls even better than you.’ Suguru arched an eyebrow, grin threatening to split his face in two. ‘Better than me?’ ‘Not just you.’ Satoru shimmied down the bed, sliding his hands over Suguru’s body in a way that started all of his blood rushing south. ‘I’m gonna become the best fucking cocksucker this world has ever seen.’ Knowing Satoru, he could probably do it, too. The thought rendered Suguru’s words a little strained. ‘Always so cocky, Satoru.’ Finally settled between Suguru’s thighs, Satoru gripped him by the base of his cock, flashing Suguru the arrogant grin that always made him weak in the knees. ‘Lie back and look pretty, and you’ll find out why.’ That blue gaze was something fierce, like Satoru was starving and Suguru was a five-course meal. When he pressed his tongue to Suguru’s length and licked a long, slow stripe from root to tip, Suguru actually groaned out loud. ‘Watch and learn, Suguru.’

and then they practised and practised until they all sucked and fucked happily ever after 🥰 thanks to gojo blowjo the sloppy tip suckler for the extra inspiration this time loooool

if you wanna submit a prompt or request, head over to my retrospring — make sure to read the guidelines first!

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cottondo · 1 year

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Hey babes! First of all, let me just say that I ADORE your writing <3333 I can tell you have a lot of passion for what you do!

If it’s alright with you, I’d like to request a Blitzø x fem! reader story. Preferably how he navigates a shy, sweet imp. I was thinking that they could have been childhood friends or something like that. Whatever you decide to do I’ll read (and love) it <3333

Thank you so much!!

aahww thank you sm lovebug🥹💞 I appreciate the kindness !

also,, really hope I got your request right?? I lowkey wasn’t exactly sure on what you wanted LMAO but I hope you like it regardless <3

Blitzo x fem! imp reader | navigate

The sound of your breath in a humid environment was all you could really focus on. Or, more so, trying to control it.

Blitzo insisted taking you on some stupid 'adventure', —if thats what he called it— and of course, it turned into a mission.

Why the hell wouldn't it! You didn't expect much less from him.

You particularly didn't care much for his mission work. Sure, okay, it seemed kinda cool sometimes- - but the,, almost double-dying part, was intimidating as fuck.

Keeping all your limbs attached to your body was really your biggest goal living down in Hell. It was easy enough to end up getting stabbed, maybe break a horn or two, or even end up in a shitty situation with some demon lords that rule rings trying to chase you down. Especially as an imp!

Maybe it was because you actually valued your death-life, and Blitz,, .. just didnt? But, regardless, you didn't wanna be here, doing this today.

A heavy hand rests on your shoulder abruptly, causing a small flinch to react from your figure.

Blitz leans in close, a crazy little smirky smile on his face. If the space between you got any smaller, you thought your oxygen levels would've been completely cut.

He managed to drag you into some hide out, a gun in his hand, army crawl position beside you in a long vent you two crawled inside of together. Shoulders harshly bumping against each other's to prover just how little space there actually was inside.

It was hot in here, and he was hotter, which only added to the uneasiness you felt in your chest.

"Don't tell me you're bitchin' out on me, y/n." He whispers to you, eyes focusing on your nerves. Blitz knew you better than just about anyone. And to be fair, he should. You two have been friends since childhood, so nothing goes unseen around him.

Your frown lightens, vision trailing to look back at him. "Nooo? I'm totally fine," you flash a cheesy smile back.

Blitzo's eyes roll, "Yea- ok, I'm teaching you combat, whether you like it or not, bitch. If youre gonna be working with us, you can't just sit around at the desk looking all cute and shit, everyday." He reminds you, "I need you to learn how to be more assertive!"

He thought you were cute? Ayee, score for you.

Your lips curl into a smirk over at him.

"As cute as I am, I can still be assertive." Now it was your turn to remind him.

It didnt look like he believed that statement. Actually, you knew he didnt.

"What happens when some dick fucker tries being an asshole to you? Pulls out a gun? One day I'm not gonna be able to get there quick enough to save your sorry ass." He frowns, some annoyance clear in his tone.

Your eyes widen, and your lips sound a gasp as you face him. "Oh my god- - is that the sound of you caring about someone other than yourself~?" You tease sarcastically, eyelids lowering casually again. Blitz turns away with a scoff.

"I didn't know that was even possible," you add onto the teasing, obviously getting some sort of rise out of him.

"Listen!" He narrows his vision. "Oka- you know damn well that I—"

His words get cut off. The sound of a door opening, and footsteps entering the room catch both of your attentions. You flinch when the door slams shut behind the figure. It was a short demon. Big horns, and an even bigger snout. He sort of looked like a dead pig. You cringe.

"Oh, fuck." Blitz smirks, raising up his gun. "This is too easy. You comin' or what?" His shoulder nudges yours. You give a dull look in reply. "Do I have a choice?"

"No, you don't." He smirks over his shoulder at you.

You follow close behind his army crawl towards the end of the vent. It wasn't far away at all, just totally felt uncomfortable being on your hands and knees in such a small space for so long.

Blitz quickly kicks out the vent door, and jumps down to the floor with his gun tightly in hand. Your eyes watch his figure as he lands perfectly in the room, alerting the demon who was on Blitz' kill list.

Damn.

It was kind of crazy how good his combat is. You know he has a lot of practice- - which does make you slightly worry from time to time about just how much trouble this job really gets him into. (And how much more it'll get you into if he continues to drag you along for the ride.)

With a small push, you slip yourself out of the vent, and land on two feet with a practiced swiftness. You've gotten enough rehearsal time to do small, crafty things, but you weren't perfect- - nothing like how Blitz was, anyway.

But at least you still looked good doing it.

The listed demon looks quickly between the both of you, Blitz ready with a crazed grin on his face while holding the gun, and you, with your knife strapped to your side, looking nothing as intimidating.

"Y/N! Grab him!" Blitz commands from you.

You hesitate for a second, "Blitz, do we really hav—"

"Cmon!" Blitz tosses his head back and groans, quickly rebounding and aiming the gun to the guys head before he got any bright ideas. "Lets dance, bitch!"

The demon, though all three of you were trapped in a very small room, does his absolute best to dodge each and every bullet. For a porky lookin dude, he was quick on his hooves. He managed to miss most if not all, bullets aimed his way.

You lunge forward, and tackle him to the ground like a tiger pouncing its prey. Blitz cheers you on, fist pumped up in the air as he watches with excitement down at you. "Thats what im talkin about, y/n! Now tie his ass up, we gotta use him as bait for the rest of them."

"The rest of them?" You glare in question.

His hand tosses you down a rope, which you had no idea where he kept it hidden all this time, but look up to Blitz anyway, as you struggled a little, straddling to keep the demon down beneath you.

Your hands desperately grab the rope, and you begin tying. Blitz insisted no helping, as this was his way of teaching you proper ways to hustle- - but you'd gladly accept it if he offered any.

First, you wrap up the struggling mans hands, then, you move down to his kicking feet. He managed to give your shoulder a good hit with his foot, but that only resulted in Blitz raising his own foot, and forcefully bringing the tip of his boot into the guys side. The demon lets out a groan.

"Damn, what the hell, asshole." You glare down at the demon who only glares back up at you through his groans. Your hands take the bandana from around his neck, and retie it around his mouth to prevent any sounds coming out of him.

"Great, now lets get the fuck out of here!" Blitz grins, picking up the hostage and throwing him over his shoulder with a small struggle. You follow along close behind, eyes checking both sides of you with some slight paranoia. It already came to the point in the day where you were very much over this job. Why the fuck couldn't you guys have just stayed in the circus business?

"Y/N! Take out those assholes up on the catwalks!" Blitz points to a few more demons that were going to be next on your list for the day.

While the two of you ran for the far exit, your eyes follow up to where Blitz was looking.

You spot them. "Got it!" Your voice beams, and pulling out your gun, you aim for the straps that kept the walk attached to the ceiling. One shot, you took the one side of the catwalks down, which results in the demons falling and tumbling down to the floor of the warehouse.

"Fuck yeah!" Blitz laughs as he uses the tied hostage as a punching bag for other demons that try to stop the two of you. He swings the hostage demon around, using him as his own personal weapon, causing some slight laughter out of you, to which both you and blitz were surprised about.

The demons you caused to fall, start charging your way. With a quick thought, you take out the knife strapped to your side, and get ready to use it. Blitz grins over at you. "Remember to aim for the neck!" He calls out from ahead of you.

Your smile brightens at the teamwork you both have. "Thanks!"

A hand reaches for you, but with a stealthy slide to the side, you duck under the arms and push the torso of a demon down to the ground.

This was getting . . oddly easy.

You hop over the demon on the floor, and smile brightly over at Blitz.

With you catching up to his side, your lips stretch into a grin as you open the door to the warehouse for him. “Did you see?” Your question was almost eager sounding. Breaking out of the shyness of the situation, you’ve actually gained a bit more combat knowledge.

Blitz grins over at you, throwing the hostage to the ground as the both of you make it out, and find a safer area to catch your breaths.

“Hell yeah bitch!” Blitz looked so happy, giddy, even. It was so freaking cute.

“I knew teaching you my way would pay off.” He crosses his arms, a soft smirk on his face.

Your face flushed lightly, the shyness beginning to take over just a bit. Your shoulders shrug upward, and the smile on your face was light. “Thanks,”

“I’m proud of you.” Blitz’s voice is quieter than his usual loud and obnoxious form, but you still catch it. Your eyes widen a bit, and staring at him in a small shock is all you could do for a second. “Really?”

Blitz looks flustered, so you decide to let any teasing go. It wasn’t often he would give real compliments. Even if he did know you long enough, to.

“Of course, fuck face.” He replies, rolling his eyes with a smile still stuck to his face.

You bump his shoulder, grinning just a little harder than before. “Learned from the best.”

______________________

really sorry its not my best work,, just allot goin on in life rn but I still hope you liked it anyway ! <3

#helluva boss blitz #blitzo #blitzø #helluva boss #helluva boss x reader #blitz x reader #blitzo x reader

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moni-logues · 1 year

Text

Kintsugi 11

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, tiny bit of eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 5.7k

Content: literally nothing to warn for; this is pretty much just one extremely fucking long scene lmao

A/N: thanks to @quarter-life-crisis2 for beta-ing and letting this therapy-less bitch know what a therapist does (not) say 😂😂

Chapter Ten | Masterlist | Chapter Twelve

Chapter Eleven - The mountain

It had been your therapist’s idea and you had been so surprised that you had agreed to it without protest. Which is why you were now standing outside his building, working up the courage to press the buzzer. You knew the codes, of course, but it didn’t feel appropriate to let yourself in like this was casual, everyday. So you stood, flexing your fingers, counting down from three, and then doing it again, and then once more, promising yourself you really were going to hit the buzzer this time.

“Hello?”

His voice, even fuzzy and cracked through the speaker, hit you like a bolt.

“Um, hi. It’s me,” you answered, and then you corrected yourself and gave your name; it had been a long time since you had just been ‘me’. “Um, I... I wanted to talk, if that’s ok?”

There was a long pause and you physically bit your tongue to stop yourself filling it, stop yourself talking unnecessarily, letting your nerves get the better of you.

“Yeah, it’s ok,” came the eventual reply and you heard the buzz of the door, allowing you in.

You had to pause at his front door, too. You knew you couldn’t take long over this because he was expecting you now but you needed to steel yourself a little; you weren’t sure what you would be greeted with. The fact that he had said yes and let you in was a good sign, but it had been such a long time and there was so much between you...

You raised a hand and knocked. The door swung open.

“Hi, San,” you said meekly.

“Hey, you.”

His hair was darker now – it was always darker after winter – and longer than it had been, swooping back and over his left eye. You’d managed to forget just how handsome he was. He smiled at you and it was timid, it was cute, it was a little unsure and you remembered that you were the one who came here and asked to talk, but now you were just standing on his doorstep, staring at him.

“I hope it’s ok for me to just show up like this.”

“It’s ok. Are you ok? Are you hurt? Or in... trouble?”

You shook your head.

“Ok, good.”

Then he stood back and gestured for you to come in. Walking into your old apartment was like walking into a dream—somewhere that you should have known, but didn’t, somewhere that should have been familiar but wasn’t. It was uncanny, almost, that things looked so much the same but felt so different. The layout and furniture was every bit as you had left it, but it wasn’t home anymore; it didn’t feel like yours. It wasn’t yours. You felt suddenly so glad that you had been the one to move out; you didn’t know if you’d have been able to cope with living alone in the place you had lived together, seeing the spaces that you both used to occupy. A wave of sadness rolled over you, sadness for San, who did stay, who was there alone.

“Is it weird if I ask for a hug?” you whispered, your voice already choked with emotion. You didn’t know how you were going to get through this conversation if you were already close to tears.

You saw San hesitate, his eyes flicking away quickly and then back to you. He nodded and opened his arms. Tears stung in your eyes as you wrapped your arms around him, having forgotten this: how warm he was, how his arms felt when they came around you, how he smelt, how your face tucked into his neck just so. It was a rush of comfort so strong it almost made you sob.

“Are you sure you’re ok?” he asked, not letting you go.

“I’m ok,” you confirmed, your voice wobbling. “Just a bit longer, please.”

“Ok.”

He held you a little tighter and tucked his head against yours in the way he always used to and you hiccupped, stifling the cry as best you could while your tears spilt, running down your cheeks and wetting San’s neck. You pulled back so you could wipe your eyes with your sleeve.

“Sorry. I’m not here to make it weird or try to get back together or anything,” you said, unable to look at him as you cried, feeling embarrassed and awkward and like there was no possible right thing to say. You tried to laugh the tears away but it came out more like a stuttering gasp. “I think I just forgot how much I missed you and there’s-… there’s other stuff—there's stuff I want to talk to you about but it’s been so long and being in this apartment again and you, and-” you scrubbed roughly at your face “- it’s a lot more than I was expecting.”

San did as he ever did: he told you it was ok and he pulled you back into his arms; he rubbed your back and he waited for you to stop crying.

“Sorry,” you repeated with a shuddering inhale as you stepped back from him a second time. “Sorry, I really didn’t come here to cry.”

“It’s ok; you always cry,” he replied with a shrug and a tentative grin.

You punched the air just in front of his arm and pouted.

“I don’t always cry.”

“You can’t lie to me; I know you.”

If your face hadn’t already been hot and blotchy from the crying, it would’ve been reddening from embarrassment. He did know you; you did, alas, always cry. You had forgotten what it felt like to be seen by anyone who wasn’t Yoongi or Taehyung.

“Do you want something to drink?” San asked.

“Tea?”

He moved into the kitchen and you followed behind him, watching as he moved about the space in the same way he always did. It was a little like déjà vu; it was also a little like it was your first time there. There was something so familiar and so unfamiliar about it all, something just not quite right; like a doppelgängland or a dreamscape or... or like being in your ex-apartment with your ex-boyfriend whom you’ve not spoken to in a year.

“I’m sorry for just showing up like this. I didn’t really know I was going to come; I kind of just grabbed the impulse.”

He turned to look at you as the kettle boiled, his face calm but watchful.

“Like I keep saying, it’s ok. And I know I’ve asked and you’ve told me you are but, really, are you ok? … We haven’t exactly kept in touch so I feel like it would have to be something big to bring you here.”

You shrugged.

“I am ok, I promise. I... My therapist said I should come.”

He seemed surprised but took it in stride.

“Is it still Nina you’re seeing?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded. The kettle clicked off and he turned his attention back to the tea. You waited in the silence, rehearsing the things you had talked about with Nina, rehashing the ever-changing list of things you’d been wanting to ask him and talk to him about, since he broke up with you.

“Ok,” he said when the tea was made. “Is this going to be a chocolate conversation, or do we need ice-cream? I have both.”

“Chocolate will be fine.”

You couldn’t suppress your smile. You had been afraid he wouldn’t want to speak to you, or that he would let you in but he would be angry, dismissive, uninterested. You hadn’t expected him to be... him. To be the San that you remembered, that you had loved so much. Part of you felt like it should hurt, that he was the same man who broke your heart, who remembered all your habits and routines, who still knew the name of your therapist, who teased you affectionately about how much you cried, that he was still here and no longer yours. But it didn’t hurt. It soothed. You were reminded of every good thing about him, everything you loved and everything that made you happy; you remembered the comfort and security of being with him. You felt reassured by it: he was still the man you had known which meant he was still kind, still sweet, still safe. It made you feel like maybe, just maybe, you could do this.

You moved to the sofa and San broke the chocolate bar into pieces, laying it out on the coffee table. You took a piece to delay the moment you had to start talking.

“So,” he began, “what can I do for you?”

“I actually don’t really know where to start.”

“Anywhere is fine.”

You took another piece of chocolate. It suddenly felt insensitive to be here and tell him that you had met someone else but that was really what it was all about. That is why you were there.

You went around in circles with everyone (well, Taehyung and Nina, the only people you spoke to about it); you wanted to move forward with Yoongi but you couldn’t. You wanted to see if there really was something between you but your brain was screaming at you that you shouldn’t because, even if he felt the same now, he wouldn’t for very long. It would all go wrong. He would get sick of you. You knew that. How did you know that?

Because that’s what happened with San. He had been with you for years; you lived together; you had a life together; and none of that was enough to stop him leaving you. You and Yoongi didn’t have that much yet. Yoongi didn’t even know you in the before times. There was simply no way that you could sustain a relationship, that anyone could sustain a relationship with you. It couldn’t be done.

That was your argument. Nina and Taehyung saw things slightly differently but you didn’t want to hear it because they didn’t really know. The only people who knew what happened in your relationship were you and San because it was your relationship.

Nina told you it sounded like you needed closure. As if you didn’t know that already. Didn’t everyone? Needing it wasn’t the issue; getting it was. So there you were.

You cleared your throat and took a sip of the still too hot tea.

“There is... someone... Someone that I... Someone I want to be with... Is that weird? Sorry, I don’t know if- I-. God, sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have come.”

It hit you as you said it out loud. Maybe you shouldn’t have. You were coming for yourself, to fix something for yourself, not for him, not even for the both of you. You were letting your anxieties make you selfish. You had just shown up, out of the blue, no warning, to tell your ex-boyfriend that you’ve met someone else, to make him carry out an autopsy on your long dead relationship. He didn’t need this; he didn’t ask for this.

San smiled.

“It’s ok. It’s all a bit... weird, yeah, but I’m... I’m kind of glad you’re here actually. I’ve missed you.”

“You... have?”

He frowned, his head tipping to the side.

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I have?”

“Well, I just... B-”

“Because I broke up with you?”

You shrugged, feeling too shame-faced to say it out loud even though, yes, that’s exactly what you had been thinking. San sighed.

“You know I care about you, right? I know it was my decision; I was the one who did the breaking up but I loved you. Obviously I missed you. And I still care. I want you to be healthy and happy and all the rest... And I would’ve understood if I never saw you again or you didn’t ever want to speak to me but... it took a lot of getting used to not having you around, not having you to speak to.”

That was an understatement if ever you’d heard one. You hummed.

“Did you not miss me?” he asked and you checked his face to make sure he was joking because he had to be.

You lifted your leg in a gesture of kicking without actually making physical contact.

“Hey, you’re not allowed to tease me about that; you broke my heart. Of course I missed you.”

His smile fell.

“I’m sorry, you’re right. And I am sorry fo- well, I'm not sorry for breaking up because I still think it was the right thing to do but I am sorry I hurt you. That... It wasn’t what I wanted; there was just no other way.”

You shrugged.

“It’s fine,” you said and you really did mean it. “I mean, I get it; I would have broken up with me too.”

San frowned, then tilted his head to the side again, confusion plain on his face.

“What?”

“What? I just mean, yeah, like, if I had been you, I’d have broken up with me, too.”

San took a minute, chewing over what you had said, taking a piece of chocolate and chewing over that, too. Then he turned and looked at you seriously.

“Why do you think I broke up with you?”

And there it was: one of the very things you had come here to talk about, to ask him, to make sure of. This was what you were here for but, now, you weren’t sure you could bring yourself to say it. It had been easier saying it to Nina, acting it out, rehearsing your words. The real thing was different.

“Because... I was... I was a burden to you. I wasn’t a good girlfriend; I wasn’t fun. I didn’t make you happy.”

Then you shoved two pieces of chocolate in your mouth to stop you saying anything more.

San sat back against the sofa and sighed, looking towards the ceiling for guidance.

“All this time,” he said, turning his face towards you again, “that’s what you’ve thought? You think that’s the reason?”

You shrugged, still chewing.

He exhaled a soft ‘fuck’ and ran his fingers through his hair. He rubbed his hand over his mouth and paused there. You let him pause, still not wanting to say more.

“I am really, really sorry. I obviously did a very bad job of communicating at the time, so I can only apologise for that now, but let me be fucking clear: I did not break up with you because of you. You were not, ever, a burden to me. Tell me,” he demanded, like he always used to.

You curled your toes in your socks and looked down at your tea. You didn’t want to say it.

“Hey.”

San nudged you.

“Tell me,” he repeated, but it was soft this time.

“I wasn’t a burden to you,” you told him, mumbling, almost unintelligible.

“And how about once more with feeling?”

It was so embarrassing to feel like the past year hadn’t happened, that everything you thought you had achieved had just eroded in an instant and you were still as sad and pathetic and incapable as you had ever been. Because, somehow, almost a year on from your break-up, San was still trying to coach you through being nice to yourself. Somehow, you had ended up back on the same sofa with the same man, trying to get you to learn the same things.

You channelled that embarrassment into frustration. You were better than this. You had grown. Even if it had been true at the time, it didn’t have to be now. You mentally corrected yourself; it hadn’t been true at the time. That was what San had always told you and what he was telling you still. You had worked on this.

“I was not a burden to you,” you repeated, stronger this time. “But I felt like it. I know that there was unequal pressure in our relationship; you bore the brunt of all your own difficulties as well as mine. I wasn’t capable of pulling my own weight.” You used your therapy voice, slow and sure, laying out your rationalisations of what went wrong, listing the reasons that you failed him, that you failed the both of you. “I didn’t contribute to our happiness; I didn’t contribute to yours and I didn’t have any of my own. That is why I was not a good girlfriend. So I understand why you broke up with me.”

He considered your words for some time. Then he took the last piece of chocolate and ate it before turning back to you.

“You’re wrong and I need you to understand that. I loved you. I loved you more than I have ever loved anyone and everything I ever did was because I wanted to. I was grateful every single day for your continued existence on the planet and in my life. You absolutely contributed to my happiness. Ok?”

He waited, eyebrows raised, expectant. You nodded.

“And I think if that is truly what you think, if you really believe you didn’t contribute to my or our happiness, that you were a bad girlfriend and all the rest, you need to fire Nina and get a new therapist.”

You gave a shocked gasp of laughter.

“No, it’s not her fault. We actually haven’t talked much about why we broke up; she said it would be better to focus on the ‘now’ and work on getting better rather than getting hung up on the past and why we broke up.”

San narrowed his eyes, peering at you, trying to decide if he believed you. He relented.

“Fine... I’m sorry you felt like that, feel like that; I hope I didn’t do or say anything that made you-”

“No! You didn’t! You never did, I swear. You never made me feel bad; I just did. And I feel like I dragged you down, too, until you just couldn’t be happy anymore.”

He shook his head.

“I really must have fucked up this break-up and I’m sorry. I can’t believe you’ve been walking around thinking that I thought that about you, or think that, or whatever. Did I really explain myself that badly to you?”

You shrugged. You had tried to forget it—everything about the break-up, really; it hadn’t worked entirely but the minute details of the conversation had been lost. You didn’t want to remember anything about him telling you he was leaving you.

“You said we weren’t in love anymore but I thought it was just an excuse.”

“Thought? What do you think now?”

“I guess I haven’t really thought about it. I told myself that that’s what happened, that’s what you thought and then I guess just didn’t examine it. I thought you were lying to spare my feelings-”

“Do you think I would have lied to you? Really?”

“Sorry.”

San slid down the sofa, more lying than sitting now, and ran a hand through his hair again.

“You know we weren’t in love anymore, right?”

It was hard to look back at the last months of your relationship with anything approaching objectivity. You had been depressed and then you had been depressed and heartbroken. You had said dozens, hundreds of times, that you loved him; you had cried it and sobbed it and whispered it and shouted it—to him, to Taehyung, to yourself, to no one at all. But had you still been in love with him?

You shook your head.

“I don’t know.”

“And it wasn’t because of you, either. These things happen, I guess, sometimes. I don’t know. I don’t know why or how, but I felt it come and I fought it for a long time because I still loved you and I still liked you and I didn’t want to leave you. In the end, I just... couldn’t fight it anymore. I wanted us both to have... more.”

“More than each other?”

“More than... familiarity? Comfort? Habit? More than just that. I know how I used to feel about you and I know how I felt when we split and it wasn’t the same. We both deserve to be with someone who is in love with us... I feel like I’m making this sound weird, but you know what I mean?”

It was hard for you to swallow, that it just ‘happened’, that it wasn’t you. Things don’t just ‘happen’, do they?

You thought about it and San let you. You tried to remember how you felt, how you felt about him, at the end of your relationship but all you could feel was, first, safety and then despair. He was your safe space, your comfort, your relief and then it was all taken away from you. You supposed that wasn’t being in love, no, but you must have been, surely? It must have been there, too. If not, where had it gone?

You flopped backwards onto the sofa, copying San’s slouched position.

“I don’t understand,” you said.

“Understand what?”

“If we weren’t in love anymore... I don’t understand how that happened.”

“I don’t either.”

“How are you supposed to stop it if you don’t know where it came from?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you don’t stop it.”

“So it just comes along, somehow, and fucks up your relationship and you can’t do anything to stop it?”

He shrugged.

“Do you think we could have stopped it?” you asked and your voice was smaller, careful, unsure. “Do you think we could have got it back?”

When San didn’t answer, you turned to look at him. He was looking at you, sweet and kind and a little bit sad. He shrugged.

“Yeah, I know it doesn’t really matter now...” you replied.

San put his hand in yours and squeezed. You squeezed back and he let go.

“Is that what you wanted to talk about?” he asked. “Why we broke up?”

“Kind of. Yes, but-, well, yes, that is it really. I … I guess I just needed you to tell me that I’m not unlovable because I had convinced myself that I am, because we broke up. I thought, think? I thought that if you couldn’t love me anymore, then no one else would be able to. I feel like I can’t... I can’t try to have a relationship because there’s no point. There’s no point because no one can love me forever, so why bother?”

“Why can’t anyone love you forever?”

You didn’t answer but you didn’t need to because he got there himself.

“Right,” he said. “Ok, yes, because I didn’t. Sorry, I’m getting it now. I get it. Ok.”

He stood and walked into the kitchen and you thought he was abandoning the conversation (abandoning you), thought he was giving up. You couldn’t see what he was doing from where you were sitting and you didn’t know what to do so you stayed, sitting a little more upright, a feeling of panic starting to rise.

He hadn’t sounded annoyed but was he? Was he tired of you, tired of talking about this? Was he hurt? Angry? You worried that maybe you really didn’t know him any longer, that he was a different person, that he had, all this time, just been trying to be nice to get rid of you. Maybe he-

He came back and sat on the sofa, a tub of ice-cream in one hand and two spoons in the other. He handed one to you and dug the other into the ice-cream, taking a big scoop for himself.

“Chocolate conversation,” he muttered, under his breath but designed for you to hear. He rolled his eyes and grinned. “This is an ice-cream conversation and you know it.”

He gestured for you to take some, too, but you didn’t; you stayed still. You waited for him to speak next, your nerve all gone and mouth dry and hands shaky.

“I think I understand now,” he began. “There’s someone, you said? Someone you want to be with. But you don’t want to go there because, when I broke up with you, you thought that I was doing it because of you, because you were a burden, you were a bad girlfriend, you didn’t make me happy, I didn’t love you. Right? You’re worried those things are true because, if they are true, then this person won’t want to be with you.”

You flopped again, covering your face with your hands. Yes, that was true; yes, that was right. Yes, he had got straight to the heart of the matter even though it had been so long since you’d last spoken; he still saw you. It was overwhelming. It was embarrassing to hear your thoughts said out loud, to realise how foolish they sounded and how unlikely you would be to accept them from anyone else. If Taehyung had tried to say those things about himself after Hyunjin left, would you have let him? No. If Yoongi tried to say those things about himself, would you have let him? No. But they still felt true when they were about you.

“Yes,” you said first. Then, “are you going to tell me those things aren’t true?”

“I’ve already told you: they are not true. They are not true. They never have been. Never will be. You are lovable; I know that- I can prove that because I loved you. You were not a bad girlfriend; I know that because I loved you and I loved being with you and I enjoyed your company and you made me happy. Those things were true and they can be true of someone else.

“Think of it this way,” he said, sitting up, turning his body towards you, changing tack. “All of those things were true—I mean, the good things! The good things were true. I had all these enormous, loving feelings for you, but we didn’t work out. Which means that there’s someone out there who’s better for you than I was. It can be better than what we had; it can be more than what we had. Don’t you want to try and find out?”

You hadn’t thought about it like that before. You hadn’t really thought about what you might gain because you could only see what you had to lose. You thought about Yoongi—being with Yoongi, kissing Yoongi, going to sleep and waking up with Yoongi—you thought about that all the time but only ever as a fantasy, never as something that you thought could be really real because you knew you couldn’t go through with it, couldn’t make that leap. The loss of him if things went wrong was too great a risk.

But the reward... Those fantasies made real... Was San right? Could it be better with Yoongi?

The thought made you feel a little sick. Too good to be true. Not possible, not for the likes of you.

“Ok, I can see you thinking. Let’s put a stop to that. Why don’t you tell me about him?”

You started.

“Uh, reallly?”

“Yeah! I’ve got to know if he’s good enough for you, haven’t I?”

“Oh yeah like you’d get a say in it.”

And just like that you were right back there. Comfortable in his familiar presence. You rolled your eyes playfully at him and he grinned. Then he rolled his hand, gesturing for you to start talking.

“Ok, his name is Yoongi...”

You told him everything: the baking, the ex-girlfriend, the sex, Sungbin, the beach, the hook-ups, the Hallowe’en party, Daegu, his birthday, everything up to you sitting on San’s sofa. You delighted in it, revelled in the joy you felt at talking about him, getting to say everything you’d already told Taehyung too many times. You didn’t have room in your head for consideration once you started talking; it was all Yoongi. You had forgotten that San was your ex, that this might be too much detail, your happiness too effusive. You were too swept away by your own tale.

Laid out all at once, it seemed obvious. You felt like you had been missing it this whole time, but, recounted as a story, of course it was Yoongi. From the night you met, it was going to be Yoongi. When you talked about him like this, enumerating his virtues, explaining what he meant to you, telling the tale of your friendship from its very inception, you couldn’t believe it had taken so long to see it. You had to admit (again, reluctantly) that Taehyung had been right; you didn’t want to be his friend. You just needed time to get there.

And Yoongi had given you that time.

When you finally finished speaking, you fell back with a satisfied sigh, not even trying to stop the smile that split your face in half.

“So yeah, that’s him. That’s Yoongi.”

San was smiling, too.

“So you’re going to tell him, right?”

And it felt so real at that moment. Of course you were. You had to. You couldn’t deny that you wanted to, that something about you and Yoongi felt meant.

“I do want to,” you replied, trying desperately to hold back the ‘but’ on the tip of your tongue.

“He’d be crazy to let you pass by.”

You shrugged.

“He might, though. Just because I feel this way doesn’t mean he does.”

You took a scoop of ice-cream to give yourself something to do with your hands, something to do with your mouth to stop it talking you out of it.

“Don’t talk yourself out of it,” San said, knowing you all too well. “He obviously makes you very, very happy and I, for one, am probably at least 95% happy for you about it.”

“What’s the five?”

He raised his eyebrows, palms, and shoulders in a silly shrug.

“Ehh, I’m a little jealous. I know I shouldn’t be; I have no right to be and it doesn’t really mean anything. But it’s there.”

“To be honest, that makes me about 5% happier. I know it shouldn’t but...”

You grinned; you wanted to tease him because you felt like you could. You were comfortable with him, satisfied that he still knew you and knew you would never mean any harm.

He poked you in the leg, grinning back at you.

“I take it back; I’m only 90% happy for you.”

“That’s fine because every percentage point less happy you are is a percentage point happier I am!”

“You stay winning, babe.”

The surprise of the pet name gave you a jolt.

“Sorry... In all seriousness, I do know that it is kind of rude of me to come to my ex’s house, unannounced, and ask you listen to me talk about this new person I want to be with-”

“I promise, it’s fine. I genuinely am happy for you; this is what I wanted, right? I said we both deserved more and we do. Now you can have it.”

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Do you have it? More?”

He shook his head.

“No, work is crazy at the moment and I don’t really have the time.”

You gestured to his otherwise empty apartment and then to yourself, who showed up with no notice and found him free as a bird. He laughed.

“Ok, ok, I’m not really trying either. It’s just not a priority right now.”

“But you’re ok? Happy? I realise I’ve been here for ages and I haven’t even asked anything about you.”

“I’m good. I’m doing good.”

“Good.”

You hugged him goodbye when you left and he squeezed you as hard as he could.

“Hey!” you wheezed, staggering back as he let you go. “Thank you. For everything. Like, including breaking up with me.”

“Sure!” He laughed. “What are friends for? I will break up with you any time.”

“I’m serious!”

“So am I! I’m here for you, y’know? Don’t be a stranger. I want to know how it works out.”

“Even though you’re 5% jealous? What if it all works out? 10% jealous?”

“Maybe even 15.”

“Ooh, steep.”

“Please do try, though; please tell him. I’ll give you free pep talks if you need them. Or, if you want, I can threaten to beat him up if he rejects you.”

You poked him in the chest.

“No beating him up, but I can’t say no to a pep talk. Or six.”

“Well, you know where I am.”

You nodded and couldn’t help yourself going back in for another final hug.

You walked a lot of the way back to your apartment, needing the time to think things through, needing the fresh air and the lengthening evening to help you see things a little clearer.

It wasn’t as simple as San telling you you weren’t the problem; that didn’t automatically change how you felt, or what you had spent the past year believing. But it did help. It helped you shift the perspective of your break-up a little. It gave you arguments to use against yourself when you talked yourself down. San had been insistent that it wasn’t you and that he liked you and cared for you. Sitting with him had been surprisingly comfortable after its initial awkwardness. He was still so familiar, just exactly the man you had known, and you felt something click inside you, something solid and warm moving into place like a hollow spot being filled.

San was right; he had broken up with you for a reason and it had been some time since you resented that or felt any bitterness about it. He had been right to do it. You were a different—better—person now than you had been then. You knew that; you felt sure of that. You had forgiven San for the break-up a long time ago and now perhaps it was time to forgive yourself for it, too. If you agreed with it, why were you letting it give you excuses not to tell Yoongi how you felt? If you agreed that you were a better person now, why were you so scared that he would reject you? If you wanted all the rich rewards of Yoongi as your boyfriend, why were you so unprepared to risk yourself for it?

Chapter Ten | Masterlist | Chapter Twelve

Taglist: @chimmisbae, @idkjustlovingbts @miriamxsworld, @quarter-life-crisis2, @tarahardcore, @simp47koreancrackheads, @xyahrinx, @olyd, @diorh0seokie, @thelilbutifulthings, @acquiescence804

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi fic #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic

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adhdblues · 1 year

Text

I went many years not realising that something was wrong with me.

Many years of thinking that how I feel and how I process things was normal. Everyone experiences similar things, is what I thought.

School was okay. I ended up with good grades in the end - A, A, B for A-levels.

But I didn’t realise that I was struggling to understand textbook language. I didn’t know that comprehension of that type of text could be a learning disability. I just thought I wasn’t good enough.

I never really did any work in class. I was actively involved in discussions. Always had an idea to share, and my teachers seemed to really enjoy those discussions. But putting them on paper was fucking hard.

And the research never really got any deeper than the ‘contents’ page and half of the ‘introduction’ of a book. I had piles and piles of books to look through, they all intrigued me. But they just sat there, in a pile, looking cute.

They sat there as the guilt (of not reading through them) weighed on me more as deadlines got closer.

If we had to take notes in class, I wasn’t able to focus. Notes were mandatory, as per my teachers’ expectations - that’s the only way they’d know whether we are concentrating or not. But, I would leave the classroom feeling like I didn’t learn anything that day, because it was all too fast.

Now I know why.

I knew I was smart (sometimes I truly believed that), and I knew I could understand everything that was communicated to me verbally. But the classroom setting just wasn’t right.

I never thought that I’d be one to have ADHD, or that disability they called dyslexia. It felt so foreign, so out of reach - I shouldn’t even consider it because I don’t need the help, is what I thought.

I needed that help.

I never thought I deserved extra time during exams - even though I never fucking finished my papers. No matter how fast I tried to get through the questions, I always had 3 or 4 or 5 pages left once the time was up.

I was actually never told about such things existing, I didn’t know what ‘accommodations’ were. Not until I saw a handful of classmates sitting in a separate room, taking the exams at a different time to us. But still, no one really talked about it.

I just wish that my school, one of the ‘best British schools in the country’, would take learning disabilities more seriously.

I wish they had taken the time to educate us about such things, instead of telling us off for the eyeliner or nail polish we wore.

Instead of giving us detention for wearing pants tighter than their liking.

Or the assemblies they forced us to sit through, where they would bring in alumni to talk about all the amazing things they had achieved since they left school.

If only I had been told about what learning disabilities were:

- I would have struggled less in GCSE.

- I wouldn’t have had those multiple breakdowns because I thought I was stupid.

- I wouldn’t have thought that I wasn’t good enough.

I was always so intrigued by learning new things. But the classroom setting just wasn’t right. The teachers never came to me to ask why I’m struggling, they came to me to tell me I wasn’t good enough.

My biology teacher said she’d be surprised if I get a C. Out loud. In front of the whole class. As she gave out our mock exam results.

I got an A in biology when the real exam came around. Because I studied my ass off. At home. In my own space.

She did nothing to help me.

My math teacher told the whole class that I got the lowest score in my mock exam. I wasn’t there, but my classmates told me. It was embarrassing. I fucking cried. But now that I look back, it’s because I couldn’t understand textbook language at the speed they wanted me to.

I got an A in that too, when the exam actually mattered.

I never really cared much for mock exams. They didn’t mean anything towards my final grades, or my future. I couldn’t care less and they didn’t deserve the stress I’d have to go through.

I just knew I would study for the real exams. I knew I could pull all-nighters and study better under pressure.

Now I know why.

I would wonder why it was so hard for me to keep up with deadlines. I would think that maybe I just don’t care enough. But I kind of did, because I enjoyed learning. I enjoyed discussing and sharing ideas.

But the school system just wasn’t right.

I look back and wonder what it would have been like if I got the extra help that I needed. If I knew I was dyslexic, maybe my English teacher wouldn’t always make me read out loud to the class “to help with my reading skills”.

That was torture for me and everyone else involved - (I think she enjoyed seeing students struggle though).

I remember I specifically went and asked her to stop making me read out loud. Because I felt ashamed of all the long pauses, when I couldn’t find the line I was on. Or for saying the wrong thing, or pronouncing the words wrong. I was ashamed that everyone had to listen to me struggle, because I thought I was wasting their time.

She asked me to read to the class, that same day.

#adhd #living with adhd #adhd problems #learning disability #dyslexia #gcse exams #a levels #education #reading comprehension #adhd things #personal #adhd post #actually did #adhd feels

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acestyx · 2 years

Text

Eddie took a deep breath and clasped his hands together, leg bouncing wildly underneath his elbow. Anxiety and hunger panged deep his stomach, making him press his knuckles to his lips.

Steve entered the room, carrying a First-Aid kit and a glass of apple juice.

He set them down on the coffee table and sat next to Eddie, placing his hand lightly on top of the other’s forearm. “Hey,” Eddie tensed under the touch, Steve’s fingers feeling like hot brands on his skin. “Look at me.”

Eddie lifted his head to meet Steve’s eyes and part of him wished he didn’t. Eddie could tell Steve was trying his darndest to look calm, eyebrows turned up with a soft half-smile. But nothing really gives a person away as much as a heartbeat.

The usual ‘th-thump ’ had quickened significantly, now resembling more of a nervous flutter. Steve gave his arm a reassuring squeeze, and Eddie felt his pulse thrumming rapidly in his veins. “You ready?”

The bouncing of Eddie’s knee has slowed down a bit, but nerves still ate at him. “You really don’t need to do this man, seriously.” He scooted away from Steve a little as to distance himself from the skittish rhythm taunting him. “It’s not that bad, I can—“

A long growl emitted from Eddie’s abdomen, causing him to wince and double over.

Steve grabbed Eddie’s shoulder, leaning down so he was level with him. “Eddie, it’s been like what, a week? I don’t know how this shit works but that’s way too long, even for normal food.”

Steve was right. A normal person would be famished after a week without food. The weird thing though was that Eddie had eaten regular food. He literally had a sandwich a little less than an hour ago. But this was different. It was like his normal hunger and his blood-thirst were two entirely separate entities.

Eddie pressed his palms into his eyes. “I know, I know I’m just—“ He inhaled deeply and instantly regretted doing so. The smell of Steve’s blood filled his lungs, making the room spin and his stomach cramp.

Eddie wet his lips, trying to coax words out of his mouth. “What if I take too much?”

“Well, that’s what the juice is for.” Steve chuckled, picking up the glass and shaking it gingerly.

“Steve, I’m serious.” Eddie snapped to look at Steve, voice breaking in his throat. “What if I hurt you? Like for real?” The mere thought terrified him. Not being in control of himself, lost to whatever demonic shit the Upside Down did to him.

He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he ended up seriously injuring Steve, or worse. He felt himself start to hyperventilate. “What if I—”

“Hey hey, listen ,” Steve turned his whole body so that he was facing Eddie. He set the glass down and placed the hand on Eddie’s other shoulder, rotating Eddie towards him and looking him dead in the eyes.

“I trust you.” His eyes were warm and the beat of his heart, although still fast and jittery, didn’t fluctuate. He was telling the truth. “Okay?”

Eddie closed his eyes and took a moment to steady his breathing. “Okay.”

He scooched closer into Steve’s space, maneuvering himself so that although he wasn’t completely in Steve’s lap, their legs were overlapping.

“If you uh—feel like you’re gonna pass out or anything, don’t hesitate to knee me in the balls, ‘kay?” Eddie joked, trying to lighten the mood and settle his own nerves. It must’ve worked because he felt Steve’s shoulders shake underneath him, a quiet laugh escaping his mouth. “Got it.”

Eddie pressed two fingers firm into Steve’s neck and slid them around a little, trying to find a tender spot that wouldn’t hurt too bad. He ran his tongue over his canines, which were starting to ache.

Each movement caused a jolt in Steve’s pulse, which Eddie could both hear and feel in tandem. “Are you nervous?”

“Eh, not really.” Steve’s heart rate jumped. Lie.

“S’just like getting blood drawn, right? No biggie.” Another lie.

Eddie chuckled lowly as he felt Steve swallow under his fingers. Steve’s brow furrowed. “What’s funny?” He breathed as Eddie drew closer to his neck.

“Your heart.” He felt animalistic in the moment, Steve squirming under him like some sort of prey. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t excite him a little. “It’s kinda telling on you, man.”

Steve stiffened a little, chest rising and falling a little faster than before. “My heart?”

“Mhm.” Eddie couldn’t hold back a smirk as he slowly dragged his fingers from the side of Steve’s neck all the way down to the middle of his chest. Eddie felt Steve’s breath hitch, loud thumps hammering against his fingertips. “Normally…”

Eddie tapped a steady rhythm onto Steve’s chest, mimicking a heartbeat. “It’s like this.”

“But now…” Eddie quickened the pace of his tapping to match the tempo of Steve’s racing heart. He looked back up and raised an eyebrow.

Steve flexed his jaw, a blush creeping up his neck. “You can hear that?”

Eddie opened his mouth to reply, only to immediately be hit with the overwhelming scent of Steve’s blood.

Seeing Steve all red and flustered would’ve been way more amusing if the blood pumping underneath his skin wasn’t so tantalizing.

Heart palpitating, lips soft-looking, face hot and flushed, it was driving Eddie insane. Steve looked absolutely delectable .

It took every muscle in Eddie’s body to not tear into him right then and there. A low whine sounded involuntary in the back of his throat.

“Eddie?” Steve said almost in a whisper, briefly snapping Eddie out of his bloodlust.

Eddie licked his lips and leaned closer, mouth visibly salivating. “Can…I…?” He rasped, doing everything in his power to hold himself back.

Steve blinked. “ Oh. Yeah yeah, um—whenever you‘re ready.”

Eddie opened his mouth, teeth grazing a taut spot on Steve’s neck. He felt Steve flinch, heart still slamming rhythmically against the fingers pressed into his chest.

“Hm-mh?” Eddie hummed, asking for a final grant of permission.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut and Eddie felt him brace.

“Do it.”

Eddie forced his jaw down, sharp fangs sinking into freckled skin.

Steve bit back a groan, chest heaving as Eddie placed his lips flush against the wound, lapping up the blood rapidly flowing out of it.

Eddie’s eyes widened and he breathed out a moan as sugary copper splashed onto his tongue.

“It’s sweet…” Eddie thought as he continued to drink from the puncture. His hand snaked from Steve’s chest all the way up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of hair and pulling so his neck was at a better angle.

“Fuck.” Steve choked out before clapping a hand over his mouth, muffling any other noises that threatened to escape him.

Eddie barely heard him, the whole experience overwhelming his senses.

Steve’s blood tasted like nectar on his tongue, metallic but leaving a sweet aftertaste that he just couldn’t get enough of. Warmth spread throughout his body, sending a wave of shivers up his own spine.

Steve’s heart was still going crazy, throbbing loudly against his ribs and in Eddie’s ears. His breathing has slowed a bit, but the breaths were still shallow.

A trail of blood dripped down Steve’s neck, pooling in the curve of his collarbone and staining his shirt.

Eddie wasted none of it, dipping down and licking along the small divot.

“Jesus, E-Eddie…” Steve shuddered. “Slow down—s’not going anywhere.”

Eddie grumbled a response into the crook of his neck, immediately feeling goosebumps rise against his lips.

The fog in his head cleared enough to notice Steve shift uncomfortably in the seat. A quiet whimper left his mouth, catching Eddie a bit off guard.

Right. Eddie thought. This probably hurts like hell.

The hand that gripped Steve’s hair loosened, instead gently carding through the strands to try and bring the man some sort of comfort.

Eddie felt Steve go limp against him, melting into the touch. His furrowed expression softened as he let out a sigh.

Steve tensed again as Eddie went back to the wound, but quickly relaxed, shoulders drooping down slightly.

He pulled away from Steve, licking some of the mess off his mouth and examining the bite.

The bleeding had stopped mostly, but the skin around it was red and quickly bruising.

“Shit.” Eddie mumbled, slowly coming off his high. Steve turned his head, wincing slightly. “You done?”

Eddie swallowed. “I—I think so.” Steve’s face was starting to pale but he gave Eddie a wobbly smile.

“Good.” He sighed, dropping his head onto the back of the couch. “The room was starting to spin a little.”

Eddie backed away slightly and his eyes skimmed over Steve’s skin, taking notice of the fading scar around the middle of his neck. A sudden wave of guilt washed over him and he averted his gaze.

“How d’you feel now?” Steve asked, trying to restrict any neck movement.

Eddie smiled apologetically. “I should be asking you.” Admittedly, he felt amazing , better than he had in a long time. Steve, however, looked like he was about to pass out.

Eddie reached over and grabbed the glass of juice, handing it over to Steve. Eddie watched him take small sips, face scrunching in pain every once in a while.

Eddie’s brows furrowed upwards. “Does it hurt to drink?” Steve hummed into the glass before setting it down. “A little.”

Another wave of guilt passed through Eddie as he grabbed the medkit. He unzipped it, pulling out some rubbing alcohol, a few cotton balls, and a gauze pad.

He poured the alcohol onto the cotton and turned to Steve, holding it up to the bite. “This is gonna hurt like a bitch, sorry.”

Eddie pressed the soaked cotton into the wound, wincing sympathetically as Steve writhed, sucking air through his teeth. “FUCK, that stings.”

“Told you.” Eddie huffed, continuing to disinfect the bite.

Eventually the stinging subsided, as Steve took a breath and relaxed back into the couch. Eddie gently dabbed the wound, taking extra care to not irritate it any further.

Eddie’s fingers accidentally grazed Steve’s jaw, and his eyebrows knitted together when Steve’s heart rate jumped. Huh?

Eddie paused for a brief moment. Steve’s pulse had been fluctuating ever since he walked into the room, but Eddie assumed it was nerves. After all, the situation wasn’t exactly calming.

But Eddie was done, “back to normal.” There was no reason for Steve to be nervous. So why—

Before he could rationalize that thought, something else caught his eye. Something he couldn’t believe. His eyes flew open, mouth gaping. “Holy shit.”

Steve looked over to Eddie, worry crinkling his brow when he saw Eddie’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“Th—the bite…” Eddie stammered, eyes still trained on Steve’s neck. “It’s healing. Like really fast.”

Sure enough, the two punctures Eddie had made in Steve’s neck had begun to close up. It was subtle but certain, as the bite marks were now the size of some of his moles.

Steve’s eyes bugged as his hand flew to his neck. “What?” By the time Steve’s hand reached his neck, the bite was practically non-existent.

He felt around a bit, fingers smoothing over unscathed skin. He laughed incredulously. “That’s so trippy.”

Eddie’s eyes were still wide as saucers. “Trippy? I know you’re used to this shit but your nonchalant-ness is kinda freakin’ me out.”

Steve pressed down on his skin before wincing and pulling his hand back. “Still super sore, though.”

Eddie nodded, grabbing the gauze pad. “Yeah, a lot of the bruising’s still there.” He peeled off the backing and stuck it to Steve’s neck. “The kids’ll probably ask what happened, nosy lil’ shits.”

Eddie heard Steve’s heartbeat quicken as a smirk dawned his face. “That’s ok. I can just tell em’ I got a killer hickey.”

Eddie’s face roared with heat and he kicked Steve’s shin, flushing more when he burst into laughter.

“If you say that to anyone, I’m killing you next time.”

Steve’s eyebrow raised. “Next time?”

Eddie blinked, trying to recover his fumble. “I—I mean obviously you don’t have to, especially because it probably felt awful—”

“Eddie.” Steve tried to interject.

“Actually, I don’t know why you’d even want to, that was a stupid—”

“Eddie.” Steve put both of his hands on Eddie’s shoulders. Eddie’s mouth snapped shut, looking up into Steve’s soft eyes.

“I’d like that.”

Eddie hoped his face didn’t look as dumbfounded as it felt. “You would?”

Steve shrugged, but Eddie didn’t miss how his pulse jumped. “Well, we know the bites heal fast, so it wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else. Plus, you need blood, and we really don’t need another Mews incident.”

Eddie’s brow pinched. “Mews incident?”

Steve waved dismissively. “Long story.”

“And uh—” Steve shifted again, and Eddie heard his heart begin to thud hard in his chest.

“I didn’t mind it.” He murmured, face reddening. “The y’know—blood-sucking. Thing.”

Eddie’s eyes widened, face most definitely matching Steve’s complexion. “You didn’t—oh .”

Steve’s cheeks flushed even more. “I mean, not like it didn’t hurt or anything, it did, it definitely did. But…I don’t know, it also felt—kinda nice?”

“….Hm.” Eddie hummed, not sure what else to really say.

They both sat in silence for a bit, before Eddie nudged Steve with his elbow, a grin shadowing his face. “So…masochism, huh?”

Eddie snickered when Steve hit his arm, not hard enough to actually hurt him, but hard enough to where he could feel the exact spot the punch landed. “You’re proving my point.” Eddie chuckled.

“You’re a dick” Steve huffed. “But uh—”

Steve leaned into Eddie’s space, smirk widening as the distance between them shrank. “You can suck from me any time.”

Eddie faked a gag, pushing Steve away from him and into the cushion. A hot flush crept quickly up his neck. “ Never say that again.”

Steve sat up, biting back a smile but failing miserably. “My offer still stands.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, painfully aware of how fond he looked. “Thanks.”

Steve looked at Eddie with an expression that softened him from the inside-out. Eddie heard his pulse jump, eyebrows furrowing in contemplation. He glanced briefly at Eddie’s lips, making him wonder if there was still some blood on his mouth.

Steve opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by his stomach, which grumbled loudly.

He blinked and looked up at Eddie. “I guess all that blood-loss worked up my appetite.” He smiled. “Wanna get some real food?”

Eddie rummaged around in his jacket pocket and pulled out a crumpled slip of paper. “I have a 5-dollar coupon for Surfer Boy.”

Steve takes the coupon from him, fingers brushing and sending electricity through his body. He held it up, shaking it gently in the air.

“Surfer Boy it is.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #kas eddie munson #vampire eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie fanfic

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