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#listen LISTEN. it was only a matter of time
ozzgin · 2 days
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Hi!! Your writing it truly lovely 😭<33 If i could request anything with Zzy? Thank youuu
Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader (II)
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Featuring the goat-legged boy Zzy and a gloomy, newly employed detective Reader! By the way, his name is a little tribute to a series I like. Can you guess who inspired it? Hint: it's Jhonen Vasquez's first comic :D
Content: female reader, perverted goat demon yandere, dark/crass humor!, monster romance, mildly NSFW
[Part 1] [Monster masterlist]
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The detective man, at the very least, kept his word. The pay is good, and you barely have any work to do. The jobs themselves are similarly not too challenging: so far you haven’t had to deal with any murder mystery out of an Agatha Christie novel. Rather, most of the time, it’s someone asking you to investigate their cheating partner, or sending you to do a background check for an employee. Every now and then you’ll get the odd client, but that’s something for another day.
Your boss isn’t all that bad either. You were initially quite hesitant to be alone in the room with him. He always seems to be surrounded by an eerie, dark aura, and you’ve only seen him smile in a menacing, villainous way. Now you’ve gotten used to his strangeness. In fact, it’s almost comforting. There’s something refreshing about another human being honest about their misery. He seems to be just as uninterested in this job as you are, spending most of his time reading at his desk. Despite his unkempt, scary appearance, he's pleasant enough and looks after you. Which, now that you think about it, is a little suspicious. You've seen him act around other people: curt and to the point, disinterested, even potentially rude. With demons, he's ruthless.
"Have you had lunch yet?" the man asks, standing up and dusting his knees. "I can get us something."
You nod and flash him a flaccid smile, although you can't help but ask:
"Listen, aren't you being a little too nice? I mean, I'm not complaining...but I've seen how you behave in general, and I have a hard time coming up with a reason for my special treatment."
He ponders your question for a moment, before his sunken eyes look ahead, somewhere behind you.
"Well…If I’m being honest, you’re kind of pathetic, aren't you? I’m just a little worried that if I’m too harsh, I’ll find out you hanged yourself in your apartment or something. Not that I’d care, but if you’re gone, I’m the one stuck with…that thing.”
Ah. That’s what it was. Almost immediately, a shiver runs across your spine.
“(Y/N)! Are you done yet? I’m booooooored”, a prolonged whine erupts from the neighboring chamber.
“I’m about to have lunch, actually. Do you want any-”
“You know I do! Spread those legs and I can start”, the goat demon declares with a grin, clacking his hooves in your direction.
You sigh.
Of course. Months ago, you were tricked into signing a lifelong contract with Zzy. It was the detective’s way of washing his hands off the matter and warmly welcoming you into the agency. It makes sense that he'd treat you with utmost care, otherwise he'd have to deal with this pest from Hell once again.
How's your life with Zzy going?
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You've since found a way to seal your bedroom, in order to avoid waking up with his groping hands under your sheets. Sadly, the stubborn creature keeps finding ways to bypass your safety measurements. Who would’ve thought that lust is such a powerful driving force?
On top of the nightly shenanigans, you obviously have to deal with him during the day, at the agency. “Listen, it’s like…one of those fidget toys. It helps with stress”, he explains fervently while pointing at your chest. “You want me to do my work properly, don’t you?” He concludes theatrically. “You’re not holding my boobs. This is the end of the conversation.”
If you’re having a bad day, it won’t go unnoticed. “Boy, what a smell, what a delicacy. You’re even more miserable than usual”, Zzy will exclaim, throwing his hands together in a graceful prayer. “You know what the best medicine is? A quick fuck. Let me pound that sadness out of you, eh?”
Despite his constant clowning, the demon does have moments of clarity. He becomes particularly serious when jealous. “What have you done?” You shout in despair, gawking at the client - now morphed into a pig - foaming at the mouth and running around the room. “He was staring at your ass. Only I can do that.” The horned man stands proud, arms crossed, nodding at his own courageous act. His most treasured belonging has been defended once more.
As expected, the jealous curse has gotten both of you into time-out. Zzy because he cursed the client in the first place, and you - despite your protests - because you didn't stop him in time. "Can't you wear something easier to take off? It takes two business days to unbutton this crap", the demon complains as he fiddles with your shirt. You're laying on the sofa, hands behind your head, gazing at the clock on the wall and counting the minutes passing. Unbothered, compliant. The peacefulness of someone who's given up. "Zipper is to the left", you add, aiding the process.
Another irritating detail is that the damned beast can detect the slightest arousal coming from you, and will make sure to announce it loudly, regardless of who is around. "Someone's horny! Whew, getting me all worked up, too." You slap a hand over his mouth, a deep red blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks. You turn to the detective and apologize profusely, but he remains unconcerned, flipping another page. "Let me take care of her first, Mr. Detective", Zzy manages to mumble through your pressed fingers. "As long as you get the task done", your boss responds plainly, never bothering to look up from his book.
"You should visit me down there sometimes", the horned creature suddenly mentions, his head resting in your lap as you idly browse your phone. You stop to glance down at him. "In Hell, you mean?" He snickers at the thought. "No one believes me when I tell them I have a human girlfriend. I need concrete proof, ya feel me?" You raise an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?" He disregards your inquiry and continues: "At least give me a pair of your panties to take back home." Absolutely not.
"Were you this much of a menace before I showed up?"
"What's that supposed to mean?! You can't blame a demon for being in love."
You sigh once more and roll over.
"Does that mean we can go for round two~?" Zzy is grinning at his own suggestion.
"Just go to sleep. Or something."
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sukuna and servant!reader is so good!! looking forward to rescue more of them <33
Eyes On Me | Sukuna Ryomen
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king!sukuna ryomen x femservant!reader
Sypnosis: Uraume can't play chess with the king right now, you must step up. Contents: Obsession, pining, kinda fluffy, mentions of blood and body parts. Uraume uses they/them pronouns. Word Count: 2404 words. Author's Note: I love writing this ship. People have been asking me to make this a series. I'll try my best lol I think you can still read them individually, but there's a preferred order.
Beginning. ← Previous |
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Sukuna hates humans. It's a fact of life. The sky is blue, roses are red and Sukuna hates the disgusting creatures that humans are. He has so many reasons to hate them that he doesn't even know where to begin. Humans are annoying, weak, clumsy, but most of all, stupid. They make decisions without thinking through the consequences. They prefer to spend their money on temporary pleasures and end up bankrupt by not prioritizing their survival. They worry about unimportant things such as social status, religion, and traditions. Sukuna hates humans, but boy, are they entertaining. 
Sukuna tends to study his servants very carefully. Even though they only clean, cook and obey his orders to a tee, it was fun to watch them interact with each other. He finds it fascinating how the servants gossip in whispers, how the gardeners concentrate to prune the bushes well despite their hands shaking, or how the cooks taste the food several times so that it’s up to their majesty's standards. It was like watching dozens of filthy lab rats in the middle of a social experiment. Although… There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what they were doing. 
You had finished all the chores for the day and decided to help the cooks prepare dinner because you had nothing better to do. Your muscles were exhausted from having spent all morning cleaning the porcelain sculptures, the large frames of the paintings in the great hall, and the king's jewelry so they could sparkle in all their glory. You had been assigned the task of peeling potatoes, so there you were. Sitting at a table with a small knife, peeling potatoes while listening to the chaos going on in the kitchen. Uraume was busy preparing a special passion fruit tea for the king. The special coming from the water that was inked with human blood. Sometimes you wondered if Uraume had always agreed to cook with humans or was it something they got used to because of Sukuna's orders, but since they never talked about themselves, you never asked. 
“Fuck!” A cook yelled when the frying pan caught fire. 
Your eyes widened at the flashy flare. Uraume put the tea set aside to attend to the emergency. With some ice from their magic hands, they put out the fire in a jiffy, but left the kitchen a mess. They began to berate the cook with smacks in the head and curses for his ineptitude. The cook just apologized over and over again, but that wasn't enough for the head chef. 
“You!” Uraume called. You put your task aside to attend to their orders. “Take the tea to our king and tell him I will be with him when I settle this situation.” You nodded and took the tray carefully to go in search of him. 
After Sukuna gave you permission, you entered the library with the golden tray in your hands. The library was the coziest room in the entire castle. Its high walls were covered with huge bookcases filled with books, maps, and scrolls. There were long desks of works and hundreds of candleholders everywhere to enjoy reading during the evenings. He was sitting in one of the comfortable chairs in front of the game table, a small wooden table with a chessboard on top. The king was surprised to see you there despite having specified Uraume's presence. 
“I didn't ask you to come,” Sukuna said chidingly as you served him tea at a small table next to him. 
“Uraume had to attend to an emergency in the kitchen. They'll be here once everything is under control,” you replied as you set down the fragile cup of blood tea, adorned with small pieces of eyeball floating on the red surface to give it texture. 
Your gaze traveled to the chessboard, it had been a long time since you had seen the king playing. You knew from the other servants that he was a good player and only plays with Uraume or some brave guest. This was no ordinary board. You could see that each piece was handmade and had luxurious detail. The pieces were made of white quartz, the eyes of the horses were rubies and the crowns of the kings were made of jade. It was the most beautiful board game you ever saw. 
“Do you know how to play?” Sukuna asked out of curiosity. 
Being a servant, you surely had not received the same education as he did. Well, almost no one was on his level when it came to education. Sukuna was a master mathematician, a skilled debater and could threaten his enemies in 5 different languages. You hadn't been as lucky. You're good at cleaning, cooking and taking orders, but what else can you do? 
“Yes,” you answered with a smile. 
That answer surprised him quite a bit. Although chess was a game that was rapidly gaining popularity among the middle class, it was not a game for women. It was a game that required intellect, always thinking two moves ahead and knowing how to read your opponent. You didn't look like a girl who could do all that. 
“Sit down,” Sukuna ordered you. 
“I warn you that it may be a short game. It's been a long time since I've played,” you warned him as you sat down. 
Sukuna watched you with great attention. Your eyes scanned the board as if it was the first time you had ever seen one, your hands rested gently on your thighs and you smiled nervously. You may have known the rules of the game, but you didn't know how to play. The king took your word for it. 
“Ladies first,” he asked you to start.
“My pleasure,” you said as your dominant hand moved over the pieces to decide what your first move would be. 
Your father had taught you how to play. He always wanted a son to inherit the family business, but your mother only kept giving birth to women, so he had to resign himself to you. Your mother taught you how to be a lady so you could get married as soon as possible and your father taught you about the business so that your future husband wouldn’t take advantage of the family money. You used to sit in front of the wooden board and talk for hours after dinner. Your father may not have been the wisest or the most astute man, but he had left you a very important lesson: Always look people in the eye to know their true intentions. 
This was one of the few times you came face to face with Sukuna. Because of his title as king and the great difference in height, you were always beneath him, physically and psychologically speaking. You were a simple human, while he was a king with the power to get rid of whomever he wanted with a simple movement of his fingers. Although his presence made you feel vulnerable, you didn't resent him. You had a relatively comfortable life serving him, but sometimes there was a need for you to show him that you were more than a servant. This was a good opportunity to do so. 
Sukuna's eyes were not on you, they were on the board. His gaze denoted boredom. He was waiting patiently for you to make the first move. If you waited a little longer, maybe he would yawn. He overestimated you, you had to use that feeling against him. You moved a pawn to the C4 square, a common move among beginners.
“Finally…” He said in a monotone voice before quickly moving the knight to the F6 square. 
Each of you took turns to move the pieces quietly as time went by. You took your time with each move, while the king only needed to look at the board from time to time to know what to do next. You could take all the time in the world, but he would still eat all your pieces. Even though it didn't seem to be an interesting game, you could at least keep up with him. Sukuna's queen advanced towards yours, standing face to face. One false move and your king was in trouble. 
“Check,” you said as the queen retreated two squares diagonally, leaving her free to begin the attack on the king. 
At that announcement, Sukuna woke up from the trance he was in to concentrate on what he was doing. He smiled with satisfaction as he noticed the change in your body. Your hands had relaxed, your back was straight, and your eyes were glued to his. You knew exactly what you were doing. You didn't need to tell him verbally that you would destroy him at his own game, your eyes told him clearly. It was as if you were dissecting his soul bit by bit until you left him completely naked.
Your hands were interleaved with each turn. You moved quickly as you realized that Sukuna had already noticed your active presence on the board. Sukuna returned the queen to his side. An interesting move. It was wise to know when to back away, but you noticed one thing in his eyes. He had no plan, he just acted based on his understanding of the game. He moved like in real life, using only his killer instincts. 
“Check,” you announced again by moving a knight up. 
“Not so fast,” Sukuna told you before taking the horse that was threatening his king using a queen. You smiled as you saw that his majesty had fallen into the trap. By moving his pieces like that, Sukuna had fully exposed his king. 
“Checkmate,” you announced the end of the game as soon as you moved the white queen close to the black king. And only then, the poor maid defeated the almighty king. 
“Well, well...” Sukuna sighed in awe as he looked at the board with extreme curiosity. He couldn't be mad at you. He had let his guard down. You were playing even before the game started. 
There was someone special he loved to watch, no matter what you were doing. Sukuna would always hyper fixate on you whenever he noticed your presence around him. You could be cleaning, chatting with your companions or eating some dried fruit in the garden, and he would still only notice you as if nothing else in the world existed. You were the most interesting human he had ever seen. Sukuna tried to look for a logical reason for his obsession with you, but he couldn't do it. You looked like a simple being with clear goals, but he was sure you were hiding something behind your perfect facade. 
Someone knocked at the door. Sukuna sighed, he wanted to be alone with you longer, but now was not the time. Uraume entered the room and was surprised to see you sitting with his majesty. Something strange had been going on between the two of you for months. They had even debated the idea of asking the king directly about you, but hadn't worked up the courage to do so.  
“There was an inconvenience in the kitchen. Sorry to keep you waiting, your majesty,” Uraume bowed in apology. 
“Lucky for you, you sent a good replacement,” Sukuna said before smiling at you in satisfaction. 
Uraume instantly understood just by glancing at the board. You had beaten the king, something even they could not easily accomplish. They could tell that he was looking at you like no one else. It wasn't a look of disgust or boredom, it was a curious look. Like that of a child looking at a group of kids playing in the playground, wondering if he could come over to play with them. 
“If you'll excuse me, I have to go,” you said as you got up to give the seat to Uraume. “Good game. It was a pleasure to play against you, my king,” you bowed. 
“Good game,” Sukuna whispered so you could leave the room. 
Sukuna and Uraume started a new game as soon as you returned to the kitchen to peel potatoes. They quickly noticed that something was occupying her majesty's mind. Their white pieces were eating his black pieces easily and his moves were slow compared to previous games. Uraume could tell that the game against you had changed the way he played.
“What do you see in her?” Uraume asked him after a move. 
“Am I too obvious?” Sukuna asked them before getting up from his seat to start prowling around the library to clear his mind. “What do you think of her?” He asked her as he stopped in front of the window to admire the land. The large green lawn stretched all the way to the intimidating entrance of his wonderful castle. 
“She is a dedicated servant and a perfectionist. She does all the chores in a timely manner. She is as good a servant as any other. The real question is: What do you think of her?” Uraume asked as they watched him from their seat. 
“She has potential.” 
“Potential? Potential for what?” Uraume arched their eyebrow at the confusing statement. 
“She has the potential to become a queen,” Sukuna replied confidently. 
Sukuna Ryomen was known among the kingdoms for being an unorthodox king. Not only because he took kingdoms left and right as if it were nothing, but because he has a strange way of ruling his people. He did not care about social classes, behavioral labels or unwritten codes of human coexistence. Everyone was inferior to him regardless of gender, race, or religion. He was the god of this new world and everyone had to obey him, just like that. 
The fact that he wanted to have a queen went far beyond just following the established patterns of classical monarchy. Sukuna must have a reason why he wants to have a queen other than just because, but there was a more important question on the table. 
“Your majesty, you can get any woman you want. You can get a beautiful woman, with more training and presence, why would you settle for a servant?” Uraume asked in confusion. Sukuna smiled. It was a good question. 
“She has something much better than that,” he answered before continuing the game as if nothing happened. Uraume looked down to see that Sukuna had checkmated them.
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Author's Note: I poured my poor knowledge on chess for this lol I hope it makes sense.
Order your own fanfic!
Masterlist.
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prettybabybaby · 1 day
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Dark ideas for riddle brothers !! Mattheo x reader x Tom - noncon
You are a gryffindor and you piss both of them off . When they get to know that you are the one who pisses both of them off they make a plan to fuck you so hard that you know your place .
reader’s house is not mentioned
rating: ¡ 18+ only ! ¡ minors do not interact !
content: noncon
your intelligence puts even tom riddle to shame and you know it. you walk around with an air of superiority that rivals his own. your charm exceeds what his carefully curated persona could never quite reach. the picture perfect girl who would undoubtedly have everyone at her feet but still just out of reach.
mattheo was one of them. despite how much he tried to hide it, his fascination was clear. tom found the situation ridiculous, even telling his brother as much. but mattheo hadn’t listened. he never does.
you rejected him coldly, not even pretending to feel remorseful about it. mattheo’s pride had been hurt and he had hated you ever since. suddenly tom’s cruel remarks felt justified. they felt true and real.
the idea was mattheo’s, the plan coming to mind after yet another smug stare from you as you walked by him. you were taunting him, making sure that he knew that you knew how much your rejection had affected him.
tom was disinterested at first, finding no benefit in such an act. was he willing to risk his own reputation for the brief satisfaction of your dejected face and a tight squeeze around his cock? was he really willing to risk it all for pleas for remorse and smudged makeup? humiliation of being bare and vulnerable before your two greatest enemies while they used you brutally… mercilessly…
the appeal quickly grew, the next time mattheo made the offhanded comment tom wasn’t fast to shoot it down. tom made no effort to stop mattheo from creating a plan, but, he did offer a few pointers. tom also didn’t scold mattheo for his choice in timing, one that was way past curfew. tom asked for no confirmation, he simply showed up.
mattheo was already waiting, fingers anxiously tapping his thighs as he searched for his brother. when he saw him, a smile grew on his face. mattheo’s plan wouldn’t have worked without tom’s corrections, something tom made note of as he helped mattheo carry your body away.
soon enough, tom’s eyes roamed your chest as the buttons of your blouse were open wide and your tie, that was usually worn snugly around your neck, pressed and perfect, was pulled loose. tom watched as your chest bounced with each brutal thrust of his brother’s hips, lust and loathing fueling his movements.
mattheo put in a show better than you did. groans and moans tumbling from his lips freely, loud enough to block out the sobs that left yours. tom found it dramatic and unnecessary, though, he couldn’t say he hated the noises of frustration mattheo’s mocking drew from you.
even after mattheo, you were unbelievably tight. perhaps it was the lack of want, the sensitivity as your body screamed at you to give it a break. none of that mattered to tom. the only thing on his mind was the clenching around his cock, the slippery glide along your walls as he pushed in and out.
mattheo made sure to bother you again, clearly not through with you after one measly round. rough slaps to your cheeks, pinching your cheeks together meanly, forcing you to watch as tom fucked you. you simply sobbed as you watched his cock disappear between your legs, a painful burn in your core following each movement.
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Never Felt A Love Like This Before
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The second part of the small bump mini fic series is out now!
pairings: leah williamson x reader
summary: its' been a long few exhausting months but finally being able to meet your baby girl was worth it in the end.
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"Let me take that from you, love," Your wife insisted, rushing to take the heavy load off your hands.
"I'm fine, Le," You couldn't help but roll your eyes playfully, you were of course now well accustomed to your wifes' overprotective nature by now. "I'm not made of glass, you know," you joked with her.
The final trimsester of your pregnancy was a time of both excitement and apprehension for both you and your wife, more so you also to deal with your wifes' need to be stubbornly overprotective of you even attempting to lift anything rometely heavy around the house.
You knew her concern was only coming from a good place though, her overprotective nature was down to the fact it had been a long nine months and she didn't wasn't about to let anything jepordizing the health of your unborn daughter or yourself.
You realized a few months it was easier to just suck it up and agree with your wifes' silly overprectiveness, it weren't that bad to deal with.
"It won't be long until we meet you, baby Gooner," Leah bent down and pressed a gentle kiss on your very pregnant belly before she peered up to look at you with loving eyes.
You both made the joint decision to find out the gender of your baby, but it was only both of your families, a few friends and of course your wife's team mates that new that you would be having a baby girl.
Leah especially was thrilled with the idea of having a daughter to hopefully follow in her footsteps, no matter how much you've tried to tell her that they might not even like football.
Your wife weren't having any of it.
"What if she wanted to be a Spurs fan instead?" You asked with the purpose of trying to wind your wife up.
Leahs' sweet smile is quick to turn into a menacing scowl, "Over my dead body will my daughter support Tottenham," she scoffed, like words were venemous.
You couldn't help but let out a loud laugh in amusement for your wifes' sudden change of mood, the discussion of different footballs team was always a sure subject with Leah if any team other than Arsenal was mentioned.
"Listen here, baby Gooner," Leah spoke directly to your belly, which made you giggle in amusement. "You have Arsenal running through your blood, your a Gooner through and through," she continued to speak to your unborn daughter, which always got the same reaction that you always got, a handful of kicks' as soon as your baby heard Leahs' voice.
"I think she definitely took notice of your words," You joked with your wife playfully, smiling at the connection that your wife and daughter already had. "The way she is kicking, I wouldn't be surprised if she does decide to become a footballer though," You commented.
"That's my girl," Leah grinned and placed a gentle kiss on your exposed stomach, which yet again earned another few excitedable kicks from your baby girl inside of you. "See? Baby Gooner, through and through," She added.
At first the nickname baby Gooner had been a silly nod to Leahs' persuasion for your unborn daughter to become an Arsenal fan just like her Mummy, however, as soon as the rest of your wifes' team mates heard it, they were all quick to cotton on calling the baby that name and it had just stuck ever since then.
You'd both decided to keep the name for a secret now, something for just you and your wife to only share.
You were both very excited for the day that you would finally be able to meet your baby girl, but of course you savoured all of the memories of your favourite times where your wife would place her hands on your stomach, being able to feel the tiny kicks and movement from your baby girl, a constant reminder of the precious life that was growing inside of you.
The nine months hadn't exactly been the easiest roller coaster, full of hormonal mood swings, horrific morning sickness and pregnancy cravings that had your wife up and out at all hours of the night, but you both know it'll be worth it the minute that you meet your baby girl.
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It's the middle of the night when you woke up and feel a dull ache, spreading through your body like a silent alarm. Shifting in bed with soft groan, the discomfort was growing stronger with eaching passing moment.
You only knew it meant one thing, it was time.
"Le," You whispered, shaking your wife awake beside you from her light slumber. "I think... I think its' time, it's happening," you stuttered out.
Leahs' eyes snapped open, panic flooding her senses as she was quick to bolt upright in bed, "What?!" she exclaimed, her heart was pounding in her chest. "Now?!"
"No, next week. Yes now," You couldn't help but sarcastically comment, letting out a hiss as the dull pain started to become a little more intense than before. "It's time, Le," you repeated.
You watched as your wifes' began to race into action and shoot up from the bed, her eyes darting around in a sudden panic, "O... Okay, just stay calm. It's gonna be fine, just... just breathe, love," she told you, despite having everything prepared and ready for this very moment, the reality of it was hitting your wife like a tidal wave right now.
"Le," You sat in the bed and looked at your wife amusedly, one hand was resting on your very swollen pregnant belly and the other was videoing your wifes' initial panic, you wanted video proof of this to look back on and laugh when it was needed, "I'm fine here, alright? My contractions are still quite far apart, so we don't even need to leave to go to the hospital yet, so just stay calm, okay?" you told your wife, trying to ease her own panicking.
"Right, of course, you... you're right," Leah ran her hand over her hair before she settled back down on the bed, "So, do we just wait until its' time then?" she questioned.
"Yes, we just wait until then. Why don't you stick the kettle on and make us both a hot drink?" You suggested, hoping that while your was downstairs that her anxiety would ease up more.
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In the hushed intensity of the delivery room, Leah stood by your side with your fingers interwined in hers in a tight grip as the final moments of your labour drew near, "I... I can't, I can't do this!" You cried, panting loudly as the beads of sweat glistened your brow and your breath had become short as you pushed through each contraction.
"Almost there, love," Leah murmered, your wifes' voice a soothing balm in the chaos of the moment, "You're doing amazing. I'm so proud of you,"
"That's it, Y/N. That's it, I can almost see the head," The nurses' voice spoke aloud as she could see the head of your daughter from where she stood, "That's it, almost, Y/N. I just need one final push," she instruced.
Leah let out a gasp and tears welled up in her eyes as she set her eyes on your daughter, "She's almost here, love," she whispered in awe.
"Just one final push, Y/N," The midwife in the room repeated, "You're doing great, just one more push and your daughter will be here," she told you.
With all of the energy you could muster, you pushed one final time and it felt like the room seemed to hold its' breath, the anticipation was thick in the air until it was broken by the ear-piercing wail of your newborn daughter that sounded like a sweet melody to you and your wife right now.
"Congratulations, Mommies," The nurse smiled widely, cradling your newborn daughter in her arms before she placed her down gently in your own, "You have a precious baby girl," she added.
You had longed for this moment that you felt your daughter nestled against your bare skin, you let out tears of joy as you felt that instant connection between you both, "Hi, baby girl. I'm so glad you're here now," You whispered quietly, your daughter looking back at you with big wide eyes.
Tears continued to well up in Leah's eyes as she watched the scene unfold before her, her heart swelled with pride and love for you, who had just brought your new baby girl into the world.
"I love you so much," Leah murmered in awe, leaning down beside you as she pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead, "You did it, love. She's here and she's perfect," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
"She really is perfect," You whispered back, peering up to your wife with a tired smile, but no matter how exhausted you felt, nothing would change how happy you felt in this moment, there was a sense of overwhelming amount of love and wonder for the little girl that you currently had cradled in your arms.
"I hate to interrupt the moment," The nurse smiled warmly at you both, her eyes crinkling with kindness as she looked between you and then your wife, "Would you like to cut the unbilicol cord, Mum?" she asked your wife, her tone gentle and inviting.
Leahs' own heart fluttered with a mix of emotion and nervousness at the question, glancing at you to seek a sense of reassurement in your eyes that it would be okay, "Is that okay?" she checked with you to make sure it was alright.
You squeezed your wife's hand to reassure it was okay, "You've got this, Mummy," You whispered, noting the name you'd both decided on for each other, Leah would be Mummy and you would be Mumma.
Your wife grinned and turned back to look at the nurse, "Yes, I'd love too," she agreed, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves.
With a careful guiding hand from the nurse, your wife gently took the scissors and prepared to make the first cut as her fingers trembled with nerves.
As the blade sliced through the cord, a rush of emotion washing over you as you watched the intimate moment between your wife and newborn daughter, watching as the nurse carefully finished the proccess, your heart swelled with love for the tiny life that you had both brought into the world together.
"I'm so proud of you," You told your wife with an exhausted smile, peering down to look at your little girl resting on your chest before you looked at your wife, "Do you want to hold her?" You whispered the question, almost afraid to disturb the sleeping newborn on your chest.
"I'd love too," Leah nodded in agreement and with the nurse's help, she delicately placed your little baby girl in your wifes' arms.
Watching the moment made your heart swell even more, the first time you saw your wife holding your newborn daughter for the first time would be a memory that would be etched in your memory forever.
"Hi there, I'm your mummy and I'm so happy to meet you, baby Gooner," Your wife cradled your baby girl in her arms as she smiled down at her in awe, "We waited a whole 9 months to meet you but every single minute was worth it now that you're here, and I love you so so much already," she whispered, not taking her eyes of your newborn daughter.
Gently moving to take a seat beside you on your hospital bed, Leah sat with the baby nestled in her arm with her other free arm was wrapped around you, "I'm so in love with you, I love you both so much," she whispered quietly, the two of you just staring lovingly at the tiny bundle wrapped up in a blanket.
Your wife was right in her words, you had waited a long nine months to meet your little girl, but damn it was worth every minute now that she was here in your arms and you were finally a family of three.
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leahwilliamsonn and y/nwilliamson posted
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Liked by liawaelti, lottewubbenmoy & 98,203 others
leahwilliamsonn: my wife and i would like to introduce the newest baby gooner to the world, remi delilah williamson 👣❤️
my heart is so full of love for our baby girl and my amazing wife right now, I love you both so much! ❤️
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© scribblesofagoonerr
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vbecker10 · 3 days
Note
Can you do a jealous ex where reader is with Loki and the ex starts getting mad and starts texting and calling reader constantly then one day she forgot her phone and Loki reads the texts and listens to the voicemails then reader comes home to a concerned Loki because reader got hurt somehow?
She's Mine Now
Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)
Summary: You and Loki have only just started dating and you're worried your ex-boyfriend will ruin everything. You've been able to hide how often your ex contacts you but one night he calls over and over while you are with Loki. After finally admitting to Loki what has been going on, the God of Mischief takes matters into his own hands.
Warnings: controlling ex-boyfriend, jealous ex-boyfriend, some vague mentions of previous abuse (nothing specific), arguing, swearing, threatening language, name calling, Loki being super protective
A/N: I'm so so so sorry it took me ages to get to this. I'm finally going through my request box and I loved this the minute I saw it. I changed it just a little but I hope that's OK. Thank you for sending it! I hope you like it! 💚
Also... I realized as I was proofreading this that I never named the ex-boyfriend so it's whatever you want it to be lol pick any jerk you know haha
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Loki sits on the end of his couch, your head resting on his shoulder while his fingers run slowly up and down your arm. You've only been together a month but you have completely fallen for him. You look up at him and smile when he laughs at the movie you selected.
He notices you watching him and kisses your nose causing you to giggle. "The movie is more interesting than I am, I assure you," he jokes.
"I've seen it," you respond but rest your head against him again.
Everything about him makes you want to tell him how perfect he is and how deeply you love him but you are afraid to. A small voice inside you keeps holding you back from opening up to him the way you want to. Every time you told you ex-boyfriend you loved him, he would tell you that you sounded clingy or needy or desperate. You don't want Loki to feel the same so you keep those three words to yourself.
Loki's fingers move from your arm to your back, moving in slow circles. You close your eyes and focus on how calming it feels but then his hand moves further up. He begins playing with your hair, his eyes still fixed on the screen, a small smile on his lips. You try to keep your thoughts from racing as you feel a familiar pit growing in your stomach. He's upset, he doesn't like your hair this way, your inner voice starts to spread panic throughout your body, he's going to grab a fistful of it any second and yell at you. You tense as his fingers gently run through your hair and he notices the change in your behavior.
"Are you okay, love?" he asks, he removes his hand and looks down at you concerned.
"Yea, I just-" you look down and begin playing with the sleeve on your sweater as your mind replays what happened the last time you got a haircut without talking to your ex first. "I'm sorry, I- I was going to ask you before I cut my hair. I know I should have but I was only going for a trim so I thought it was okay but then I saw a shorter style I really liked and I just went for it but-"
He cuts off your words suddenly when his lips met yours, your whole body responds to his kiss and the feeling of his hand softly touching your cheek, relaxing you instantly. He pulls back slightly, his eyes locked on yours so he knows you are listening to him. "It's your hair darling. You can do what you like with it," he gently plays with the ends of your hair. "You don't need to ask me to do things like this," he says as if it is obvious.
You nod and remind yourself for the hundredth time that Loki is not your ex-boyfriend.
He settles back on the couch, bringing you with him easily, his arm around you. He smiles and adds, "I'm sorry if I forgot to tell you that you look beautiful today."
You blush and bury your face against his chest, the heavy feeling inside of you vanishing completely. He kisses the top of your head and goes back to watching the movie. You close your eyes and force the images of your ex-boyfriend's reaction from your mind, replacing them with Loki's words.
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Half an hour later your phone vibrates on the coffee table. You lean forward to try and reach for it but Loki keeps his arm around you. You giggle and try again but he doesn't let go. He looks down at you and smirks, "Where do you think you're going?"
Your phone continues to vibrate. "I need to answer my phone," you roll your eyes.
He looks back towards the TV and dramatically puts his foot on the edge of the coffee table, sliding it further away from you as he straightens his leg.
"Loki!" you laugh as a smile spreads across his lips. He finally loosens his grip so you can get up. You pick up your phone but as soon as you see the number, you end the call and put it face down on the table.
"Who is it?" he asks.
"Wrong number," you answer with a shrug but the laughter is gone from your voice.
You sit heavily next to him and he waves his hand to bring the table back to its original spot. He doesn't respond but you know he can tell you are lying, his expression has become serious and his eyes remain fixed on your phone. Before you can think of a better excuse, your phone begins to vibrate again. You grab it and hang up quickly without stopping to see the number, you know who is calling.
"Who is it, Y/N?" he asks again, his tone is curious but you can feel your nerves getting worse.
"It's no one," you tell him as you tug on your sleeve again.
He sighs at your response and turns off the TV. "I don't like being lied to," he says as he faces you.
"I know," you shrink away from him, waiting for him to yell or tell you to leave.
"Y/N," he reaches out to touch your chin lightly, wanting you to look at him but you flinch away from his touch involuntary. He pulls away as well, giving you more space instead of invading yours. You look up after a moment and instead of seeing anger in his eyes as you expect, he looks sad.
You know in your heart Loki would never hurt you but your instincts had forced you to distance yourself from him. When your ex was upset because you had lied or had done something he thought was wrong, he could be unpredictable.
Your phone vibrates again and he sighs as he picks it up off the table. He hands it to you and says, "Whoever it is must really want to talk to you."
"I don't want to talk to him," you tell Loki, trying to hold back your tears. You toss it away from you wanting it as far from you as possible. It skims over the top of the coffee table and lands on the ground in front of the TV.
"Who keeps calling you, Y/N?" he asks again and this time you know you need to answer him.
You tuck your legs underneath you and move further away from Loki, wrapping your arms around yourself. He shifts his body to face you but doesn't move any closer. "It's my ex-boyfriend," you tell him, you try to keep the fear from your voice but you know he hears it.
"The one Wanda told me about?" he asks, his eyes glance towards your phone and you see a flash of anger cross his face.
You nod but don't say anything else, you had barely mentioned your ex to Loki for so many reasons. You aren't sure how much Wanda told Loki but it was obviously more then you had ever shared with him.
"Please talk to me," he says, moving towards you slowly, testing to see if you will pull away again. "I don't understand why he would still be calling you. I thought you ended things with him months before I met you."
"He started calling and texting me again a few days after our first date," you finally admit to Loki. "I don't know how he even found out about us..." your voice trails off as you look down.
You feel Loki move closer to you again and your body tenses as you prepare for an argument or worse, you shouldn't have hidden this from him, it was as bad as lying.
"I'm not texting him back I promise. I always ignore him. I don't want him to call me but he just keeps doing it, I've asked him to stop but he won't," you say quickly, all in one breath. Loki opens his mouth to say something but you are too afraid to give him a chance. "I didn't want you to be upset, that's why I didn't tell you, I wasn't trying to hide anything or lie about it, I'm sorry," you feel the apology pouring out as it had so many times with your ex. You cover your face with your hands but can't stop the first few tears from escaping.
"I'm not upset Y/N," he says softly. He gently touches your hands and slowly takes them away from your face, "I'm worried about you, that's all."
You look at him, not having expected that response. When your ex found out you were texting Wanda after work, he had been furious. He had never met her and didn't want you telling a stranger anything about him or your relationship.
"I'm sorry," you mumble quietly, not even sure what you are sorry for anymore.
"Please stop apologizing," he says in a calm voice, "You haven't done anything wrong." He wipes the tears from your cheeks, his eyes never leaving yours.
You nod and without thinking you answer him, "Sorry."
He gives you a half smile and puts his arms around you, pulling you close. You squeeze your eyes shut and press your cheek to his chest as he rubs your back slowly. He holds you and sighs, "I don't know what he did to you... and I will never ask you to tell me," he adds when you look up at him, "But I need you to remember that I am not him. I never want you to be scared of me, you can tell me anything."
"I know," you wipe your eyes again. "I'm sorry-"
He raises an eyebrow at you and you let out a small laugh. "There's that beautiful smile I love so much," he smiles in return.
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A few hours later, Loki lays awake staring at the ceiling, wishing you hadn't left. He has told you on numerous occasions that he sleeps much better when you are curled up in his arms. Unfortunately, you need to run an errand before work tomorrow so you had gone back to your apartment after the movie finished. Closing his eyes, he rolls over but sits up quickly when he hears a faint buzzing sound.
He gets out of bed and follows the sound into his living room. Loki looks around as the buzzing gets louder until he finally sees your phone lighting up on the floor just under the tv stand. You must have forgotten you threw it there when your ex-boyfriend was calling. He was worried when you didn't text him to say you arrived home like you always did, so at least now he knows why.
He stands still for a moment, watching it ring as he debates what to do next. The call ends and he bends down to pick it up then he takes a seat on the couch. After a few seconds, it vibrates once more notifying him that there is a new voicemail.
He sits back, phone in one hand with his other hand over his eyes. Loki trusts you more than anyone he has ever known, on Midgard or on Asgard and doesn't want you to think he's invading your privacy. It's not you he wants to check up on, it's your ex-boyfriend. Everything he knows about him, he heard from Wanda in one very short but eye opening conversation. She only told him what little she knew but it was enough for Loki to know that you deserved better. He sounded like a man you weren't safe with and your reaction to his calls tonight confirmed that for him. Loki would do anything to protect you so he takes a deep breath and unlocks your phone.
Thankfully he remembers your password, you had told him what it was last weekend so he could send himself some pictures you took together at the museum. He opens your call history and covers his mouth with his hand in shock. Fifty-three missed calls in the last week alone, he stares at the number in disbelief. You hadn't answered a single call but still he attempted to reach you over and over. Most of the calls came in groups late at night, like they had while you were watching the movie.
He opens your texts, feeling both guilty for looking around and angry knowing what he will likely find. He smiles a bit when he sees how you've saved his name in your phone, Mischief 💚, but immediately frowns when he sees an unsaved number right below his conversation with you.
He clicks on it, at first he barely reads the words, he just scrolls further and further down hoping to find the end. He sees text after text after text, some are long rants while others are a single insulting word and it seems to go on forever. Once a day is a text from you pleading with him to leave you alone but it only seems to enrage him.
Loki quickly goes from upset to angry to furious as he reads the threats and insults your ex-boyfriend had thrown at your over the last few weeks. He grinds his teeth as he thinks about you being afraid of your ex and the things he has done to you. He sits back and types out a lengthy reply but at the last second he deletes it.
With a smirk he sits forward with his elbows on his knees and begins to type a new, much shorter message. He hits send and waits a few moments. Your phone vibrates when your ex replies and Loki turns off your phone before going back to his room.
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You look both ways and cross the street quickly, excited to finally see Loki for lunch like you do every day. You spot him sitting on his usual bench just past the entrance to the park, lost in his book. You smile when he looks up, his book vanishing as he stands. He hugs you tightly then leans down to give you a kiss.
"I missed you," you tell him, his arms still around you.
"Then you shouldn't have left last night," he smiles. "Oh, I believe this is yours," he takes your phone out of his pocket.
"Thanks. I can't believe I forgot it, that was really stupid," you shake your head. You had realized when you got home last night that you had left it at Loki's but it was too late to go back.
Your heart stops when you realize its your ex-boyfriend. You look up at Loki, one of his arms is still around you but his eyes are fixed to your ex as he approaches with a wide smile and outstretched arms.
"You are not stupid," he corrects you and before you can respond you see someone walking over to you.
He continues towards you and when your brain finally registers that he is trying to go in for a hug you free yourself from Loki and quickly back away. Loki moves in response, putting himself easily between you and your ex which causes him to stop.
"Seriously Y/N?" he says, already sounding annoyed with you. "I drove all the way out here for lunch with you and you won't even give me a freaking hug? You're lucky I accepted your ridiculous invitation after you kept ignoring me."
Loki says, "Y/N did not invite you here, I did."
"Oh really?" he's looks from you to Loki and seems unphased that he is face to face with the Prince of Asgard. "What, are you looking for some tips on how to control her better?" he laughs to himself. "Of course, if you've decided you're done with her, I'll gladly take her back. I put years into fixing her, wouldn't want that to go to waste."
You take another step back as his eyes find you again and they roam up and down your body. You suddenly wish you hadn't worn a skirt and you cross your arms tightly around yourself. He always commented on how you dressed, he had so many opinions on what he wanted you to wear.
Loki notices how uncomfortable you are and brings the attention back to himself. "Do not look at her, this conversation is between you and me," he tells your ex.
He sighs and says, "Fine, what do you want?"
Loki holds his anger at back and in a controlled tone says, "You will apologize for how you treated her in the past and then you will leave, never return here or contact her again."
He almost laughs and says, "I treated her the way she deserved. She needed to learn how to behave and you should be thankful I trained her as well as I did."
Your eyes dart from your ex to Loki and your heart races with anxiety about what might happen next. Loki doesn't respond at first, you watch his fist clench and his jaw tighten. He looks like he is holding himself back from lashing out with every bit of strength he has.
"You have no idea what she was like before. When I first met her-" he tries to look at you but Loki cuts him off.
He walk steadily forward, glaring at him as approaches. "I will not stand here and listen to a pathetic mortal like you speak poorly of Y/N. She is kind, funny, generous, creative, beautiful and so much more. She never deserved to be mistreated by the likes of you. Y/N is a queen and I will ensure she is treated as such."
You can't take your eyes off of Loki, you've never had anyone speak about you this way before.
Loki stops just in front of your ex and says, "If you ever speak to her, text her or see her again, I will make sure you suffer greater than any human on Midgard has ever suffered before."
Your ex-boyfriend looks at him in shock but it quickly morphs into anger, he does not take being challenged or threatened well. He takes a small step backwards and says, "You can't just threatened me like that. You might be some fancy royal on your planet but here your just another asshole. If I want to talk to her, I will. She was mine once and I could take her back if I really wanted to."
As soon as the words come out of your ex's mouth, you know he finally pushed Loki too far. Loki's full armor and tall horned crown appear in a bright flash of gold and green. Your ex goes quiet in an instant as you are both reminded that Loki truly is a God among men.
The God of Mischief looms over him, staring down at him, daring him to speak again. Loki raises one hand and suddenly your ex is picked up by his throat, a green mist surrounding his neck. He tries to claw at it but Loki's magic brings him closer, until they are eye to eye. In a dark voice, Loki says, "She's mine now."
Your ex-boyfriend looks utterly terrified and a part of you can't help but enjoy seeing the fear in his eyes after all the pain he inflicted on you. You watch, your heart still pounding quickly. As much as you want your ex to suffer, you are afraid Loki will go to far, you've never seen him so angry. Look had worked so hard over the last few months to gain the trust and support of the Avengers, if he hurts your ex he will have to face serious consequences. As much as you hate your ex-boyfriend, its not worth risking Loki's future with the team or with you.
Loki's magic brings him closer, until the are inches from each other, his feet dangling helplessly above the ground. "Do not doubt for a moment that I will do what needs to be done to protect the woman I love. Is that clear?" Loki asks and he nods rapidly in response.
Loki releases him from his grasps and he falls to the ground. Getting up quickly, he runs from the park without looking back.
Loki's magic vanishes, his crown and armor fading away in the breeze as he turns to face you. The determination and rage in his eyes is gone, replaced with his own nervous fear. Your eyes remain locked on him as he slowly walks towards you.
"Y/N," he asks softly. You don't answer, your mind still processing the events from a few moments ago. "I'm sorry, I never meant to let my temper get so out of control but I just couldn't bear to listen to him talk about you for another moment," he explains and you nod in understanding.
He reaches out to take your hand, looking down as your finger interlock and sighs. "I told you not to be afraid of me and then I showed you exactly what kind of terrifying monster I really am. I never wanted to scare you, I only wanted him to leave you alone."
"You um..." you pause, biting you lip as you think. "You said you love me?"
"Loki," you close the distance between you and touch his cheek with your other hand. "I could never be scared of you." He looks at you slowly and you smile, he breaths a sigh of relief and smiles in return.
He laughs and relaxes completely, his arm wrapping around your waist. "Darling, I have loved you from the first time we spoke," he tells you. "You mean everything to mean."
You reach up and kiss him, his hands move down your back to hold you flush against his body. You look up, still pressed together and say, "I love you too. Thank you for keeping me safe from him."
You rest your head on his shoulder and he kisses the top of your head. "I promise, I will always protect you, you just need to tell me what is bothering you," he swears.
You smile when you look into his eyes and see how much he means it. He leans down to kiss you again and between breaths he whispers, "Mine."
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samandcolbyownme · 3 days
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Summary: When reader’s sister is in town to introduce her new beau, all it takes is one drunken night for it to all come crashing down.
Pre-warning: THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN CHEATING. Please do NOT read if you are not fully comfortable with this topic.
Warnings: SMUT18+, CHEATING, Colby cheats with reader, swearing, mentions of alcohol, reader drinking, drunk reader, low key flirting, teasing, sexual innuendos, unprotected sex, rough actions, choking, biting, scratching, hair pulling, ANGSTY, cream pie, fingering, oral (f rec), period and pregnancy talk, mentions of puking, general spice
Disclaimer: I am 100% against cheating. If you cheat on anyone, you’re an awful person. This one shot is 100% fictional and for entertainment purposes only! Nothing about this is real.
Word count: 7.4k | not edited
Enjoy!
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
“Another one?” You laughed into the phone and your mother sighs, “Y/n, sweetie. Be nice. She seems to be serious about this one, this time.”
You laugh slightly, “Mm. I’m sure. She was serious about the last three.”
You loved Mara, your sister, but one thing about her that really bothered you, was that she cycled through guys like a carnival ride. One month she’s in love the next, no guy can ever treat her right.
Blah, blah, blah..
But you’re always there for her, so you’ll be there for her with this one, “Did she tell you who it was?” You ask as you sit up, putting your mom on speaker so you can start packing.
“No, she won’t tell me a thing. I keep asking her for things but all she keeps saying it’s a surprise. Um, she did though, at one point say that you’ll understand why it’s a surprise, but that’s it.”
You pull your suitcase out from your closet, “Hmm.” You walk back over to plop it down on the bed, “That’s so weird. I actually have no idea.”
Your mom hums, “Yeah I have no idea.” She sighs, “So your flight gets in at what time?”
“Eleven a.m. Don’t be late.” You tease and she laughs, “Six months without seeing either of my girls is like six long lifetimes. I promise we won’t be late.”
You tear up slightly at her words, “I’m so excited to come home for a little bit. I miss my mommy.” You laugh and she sniffles, “Yeah. I miss my baby girls.”
You smile and sigh, “Alright well before we get anymore emotional, I’ll see you in a few hours. I love you.”
“I love you. See you soon, baby.”
Your mom hangs up and you get to packing. You hated it, and as much as you tried to stop the habit, you always found yourself packing at one of the very last minutes.
Mara said she was talking to someone new, but was very, very vague with the details about him. No matter how hard your pried and how often you asked, she never gave up anything.
You did know one thing, though. Your sister was pretty, so you knew that who ever the poor sap dating your sister was, wasn’t ugly.
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Your flight was getting in two hours earlier than your sisters, but by the time you make it to their house, you’d only have an hour to talk shit with your mom and get caught up on the latest hometown drama.
“No!” You exclaim as you slam your hand on the counter, “She got pregnant with her bosses baby, and baby daddy didn’t know the baby wasn’t his until the birth?”
Your mom nods, “I guess her baby daddy knew she was screwing around prior and had his mind set way before anything.”
“That’s absolutely crazy.” You shake your head and stand up, “I think Mara and her secret boyfriend will be here soon. I’m going to run to the bathroom quick.”
She nods, looking down at her phone, “Oh, they’re pulling into the driveway now.”
You nod and make your way to the bathroom. As you’re washing your hands after, your heart literally felt like it detached from inside your body when you think you hear a certain someone’s voice.
You dry your hands and crack the door, pressing your ear to the slight opening and you hear your dad laugh, “Oh, so like a real life ghostbuster.”
“I mean.” The guy you’re really listening to speaks, “My best friend Sam-“
You close the door and press your back against it, hand gripping the knob so hard your knuckles turn white.
Your heart feels like it isn’t even in your body anymore.
You had no idea how this was happening, how he is here, in your parents house with your fucking sister of all people.
Colby. Brock.
The guy in high school you thought you were going to marry. The guy in high school you snuck out to see at midnight. The guy you gave your V card in the back of your car in high school to.
Your mind was spinning. Your heart was back in your chest and racing hard.
Would he remember you?
He has to know that you’re Mara’s sister, right? There’s no way she could keep him from knowing, you’re posted on her socials.
“Y/n?” Your mom calls at the end of the hall, “Are you coming back out?”
Before you can answer, your sister yells, too, “Yeah, come give your big sissy a hug! I’ve missed you!”
You roll your eyes, opening the door, “I’ll be out in a second.” You close the door and look at yourself in the mirror. There’s no way Mara knew you dated Colby, hell. You didn’t even tell your parents.
It’ll be fine, you convince yourself, it’ll be fine. Just act normal.
You take a deep breath, opening the door. You walk out and slowly walk down the hall. Act normal, you remind yourself, standing up straighter and putting a smile on your face right beside you round the corner.
Yep. That’s Colby, and for some reason, he looked just as shocked as you felt.
Your sister pulls you into a hug, holding you tighter, which only makes you feel more guilty when you don’t drop your stare from Colby’s.
“You look so good!” She cups your cheeks, “I hope this wasn’t, too short of a notice, this was the only time I could get off work.” She steps back and moves next to Colby.
He slings his arm around her waist and you bite down on your cheek. You couldn’t lie and say that you missed his touch. You both really didn’t know what you were doing in high school, but he was still better than some of the fucks you’ve had back where you live now.
God, you wanted him bad. You knew you couldn’t have him, and that’s why these feelings were so intense, right?
You mentally shrug yourself out of your thoughts and move into the living room with everyone else as Colby, what it feels like to you, catches you up on his life.
You feel your heart racing in your chest, trying to keep that sick feeling down as you avoid looking at Colby in any certain way.
You knew if you looked, you wouldn’t be able to look away. He looks, fuck. Beautiful now. He’s tall and a lot more muscular than the last time you seen him.
He was.. dare you say, a work of art?
You knew these next two weeks were going to be hard, especially living under the same roof as the very first person you ever fell in love with.
He didn’t know you liked him that much, so it didn’t really hurt him as much when things ended - or so, it seemed like he was okay.
The last three days, you found that Mara is very, very clingy with Colby. You didn’t want to assume or anything, but you kind of thought you picked up on her doing that when you were around them.
You didn’t really think anything of it, so you just moved on from it. You called up one of your friends and planned a night out with a few of your other old friends.
“What are your guys plans tonight?” Your mom asks as she walks into your room. You sit up, looking down at your phone, “I’m actually going to get ready to go to Tayla’s here soon. I’m going out with a few of my old friends from here.”
“Aw, that’s so sweet.” She smiles, “Your father and I have a work dinner benefit thing and then we’re going out for drinks, so don’t forget to take your key. I don’t know when we’ll be home.”
You nod and your sister walks in, “Did I hear you’re going out tonight with Tayla?”
You laugh, “Yeah. I am.” You look up at her and she tilts her head, “Do you think Colb and I can tag along? We’ve been looking for something to do.”
You see your mom look from your sister to you and you nod, “Yeah, no. That’ll be so fun!” You smile, “I’m going to Tay’s to get ready, but we can all just ride together?”
She smiles as she nods, “I’ll go tell Colby to get ready.”
“I know you probably think I don’t know.” Your mom leans in and your heart drops as she whispers, “But Lesa and I have been close for years, and you know us mom.. we talk.”
You look up at her and she tilts her head, “You still like him don’t you?”
All you can do is nod, but you go right into quietly pleading and begging her not to say anything to anyone, “Please don’t say anything.” You repeat for the fourth time, “I know you said moms talk or whatever, but this.” You shake your head, “Is not for your gossip. I don’t want to hurt Mara like that.”
She brushes hair from your face and sighs, “I know how you’re feeling, sweetheart. I know I didn’t want anyone saying anything, so don’t worry.”
You look up at her and smile, “Thanks, mom..” you sigh, “I have to get my stuff around.”
She smiles, giving your head a quick kiss before she nods, “Be safe tonight. Call if you need a ride.”
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
You kept the whole thing about Colby in from everyone but your mom. You got lucky in the mom department with that one.
Getting around with Tayla wasn’t easy, mainly because she can still read you like a book, “Seriously, y/n. Are you okay?”
You lean back from putting your mascara on, looking over at her, “Yes, T. I’m good. I promise.” You look back at the mirror, “do you have that one top? The black halter top looking one?”
She nods, getting up to grab it, “Can I ask a question?” She reaches out to hand it to you and you look up at her, nodding as you take it.
She walks back over and sits down on her bed. She hesitates for a second, “Is it because Colby is here with your sister?”
You furrow your brow, “Um, no. Why would that be-“
“Because you have a history with Colby.”
You scoff, “Holy fuck. Does everyone know that Colby and I screwed around in high school?” You shake your head and look down.
Tayla moves to the end of the bed and laughs, “You told me yourself, y/n. At the senior bonfire. You admitted you were falling in love with him after one too many shots.”
You laugh slightly, “Yeah.” You nod, “Yeah, that sounds about right.” You scratch your neck and look over at her, “Okay. I’m actually glad you said something because I’ve been dying to talk about this.”
After an hour of filling her in while she got ready, she looked at you, “So he was just as shocked to see you as you were to see him?”
You nod, “He looked like I’m who he wasn’t expecting.” You shrug, “It was weird, it’s all weird actually.” You laugh and groan, “Out of all people, why him? She couldn’t have just left this one alone.”
“Did she or does she know that you and him used to..” Tayla trails off and you shake your head, “Well.. I hope not. If she did, she probably would have said something..”
Your phone goes off and you look down, “They’re ready.”
As you pull up to the house, you look over at Tayla, “Please don’t say anything about it.” She nods, “I won’t. I promise.”
You look over, your heart skipping a beat when you see Colby. His chest slightly exposed from his shirt not being buttoned up all the way. The chains that are hanging from his pants, sway with each step.
He looked so good, you were basically drooling for him.
“Hey.” Tayla nudges you, “Take a picture.” She laughs, “it’ll last longer.”
“Oh my god.” You mumble as you slump down in the seat, “Just.. put me out now.” You hear the back door open and you sit up straight, clearing your throat and your sister and Colby get in.
“Heeey, Tay. How are you?” Mara asks as she closes the door. Tayla nods, “I’m good, how are you?” Mara nods, smiling as she looks at Colby, “I’m good. So, Tayla. This is Colby, Colby. Tayla.”
Colby nods, “Yeah, I remember Tayla from school.”
Oh fuck. Your heart anxiously skips a beat.
“Wait, I know you’re from here, too. But if you went to school with Tayla, then you went to school with-“ Mara points at you and you nod, “I thought you knew that Colby graduates with me and Tay?”
“It must have slipped my mind because I graduated high school before you became a freshman.” Mara gives you slight attitude and you raise your brows, “You good, Mar?”
She nods, “Yeah. Why?”
You shake your head, “Nothing, it just.. sounded like you were coming at me for a second.” She laughs, trying to cover up her obvious jealousy, “No, it’s just a really small world, isn’t it.”
You laugh slightly, glancing over at Tay before nods, “It sure is.”
Colby knew you were talking to him.
“So what bar are we going to?” Colby asks with hopes of trying to break the tension. Tay sighs, “Well, I was thinking that we’d try a new one? They just opened one over on Saint Elm, it looks pretty good.”
“Are you talking about that bar you sent me yesterday?” You ask and she nods. You look back at them, your words almost getting caught when you looked at Colby, “Is that okay with you guys?”
They both nod and Tayla takes you guys there. You were actually relived to get out of the car and away from the clearly awkward small talk.
You grabbed Mara’s hand and pulled her back away from Colby and Tayla, “Hey. I didn’t know that you didn’t know Colby went to school with me.”
She sighs, “Y/n. Can we no-“
“No, we’re doing this now because I don’t want you to have a bad night, okay? I knew Colby from band, that was it. There’s actually someone back home that I’ve been talking to, okay. So there’s no reason you need to get snippy with me.” You laugh and you laughs, glancing up at Colby, “I just..”
She looks back up at you, “I’m not used to being with someone who’s so.. famous like Colby is. I’m always thinking that every girl is trying to get him.”
You laugh slightly, “I’m sure it isn’t easy. But it’ll get better. Colby, from what I remember from high school-“
Which is a lot more than you’re leading on.
“And from what I see on social media.” You shake your head, “I don’t think he’s the type of person to fuck you over.”
She sighs, “Thank you.” She pulls you into a hug, “Yeah, I told mom that you’ll know why I hid it, since you watch their videos and all.”
Watch their videos and all, yeah. Not like you had Colby’s dick in you first or anything.
“Oh yeah.” You turn, pulling her with you towards Tayla and Colby, “It makes sense now.” Tayla gives you guys a thumbs up, “We good here?”
You nod, “Yeah. We’re good.”
“Great, because I need a drink.” Tayla turns and walks into the bar. Mara snaps, “Oh shit. Colby.” She looks at him, “I totally forgot to ask you, would you be willing to drive us back to mom and dads?”
Colby nods, “I already planned on having to.” He smirks, looking between you and Mara. You smirk and walk towards the door, going inside to find Tayla and your other friends who were meeting you here.
You were doing pretty well at keeping your resurfaced feelings for Colby suppressed, but as the night goes on, and with help but the alcohol you keep putting in your body, your wandering eyes happen more often and you just slowly start to not care.
Everyone else was wasted, well. Everyone but Colby.
And he had his eyes on you, too.
You really did care about Mara, but Colby wasn’t helping matters with the way his pupils dilated when he looks at you.
You start thinking about how to get him alone and that’s your cue to bring up something about going on, “Alright. Once I finish this.” You point to your glass, giggling as you lean forward to grab it, “I’m.. done. I’m tired.”
“Aww.” Your friends pout, “We barely see you anymore, y/n.” “Yeah, come on stay out please.” “Please one more drink!” “One more shot!”
“Fine. One more drink.” You laugh, enjoying your friends praise you and Colby takes note real fast of that kink.
You slurp down that drink and stand up, “Alright. Who is my DD? I’m leaving.” You start walking towards the door and Mara and Tayla come running after you, laughing as they cling to your arms.
They were both absolutely shitfaced.
You were borderline blackout - anymore and you’d be a goner.
“You’re the best sister ever.” Mara slurs as she lays her head on your shoulder. You look down at her, quickly looking back to make sure Colby is behind you, and his eyes are on you.
You give him a smile and look back down at Mara, “No, you’re the best sister ever.” Tayla sighs, stopping outside of her car, “I need to go to sleep.”
You laugh, “I feel that.” You walk to the passenger side and Mara whines, “Tay.” You look at Tayla and smile, “You wanna sit in the back with Tay?”
Mara nods, her eyes closed, “I love her.”
You laugh, moving to the back door and opening, “Okay. In we go.” You and Tay get Mara in the car before you help Tay in. She pats your face, “You need to come back home more. I miss you.”
You nod, “I will come home more.” You buckle her up and shut the door, your drunkenness quickly blowing away as you get into the passenger seat.
You would have sat in the back, but you didn’t feel like moving Mara’s legs.
“Ready?” Colby asks and you nod, “Yeah, they’re good.” He puts the car in drive and starts heading back to your parents house, “Are you good?”
He asks that question a little quieter and you know he’s not just talking about the situation right now, “Uh.” You clear your throat quietly, “Yeah. Yeah.” You look over at him and he looks at you as he comes to a stop at the red light.
You looked away as you see the red light creep onto his face and you have to look away or else you’ll do something you really know you shouldn’t do.
It’s pretty much quiet, except for the snoring from the two girls in the back. They passed out as soon as their asses hit the seat.
“Did you have fun?” Colby asks, breaking the slightly awkward silence. It’s only really awkward because of who is sitting in the back. If it was just you and him, that’d be a different story.
“I did.” You look over at him, “That was until I realized how drunk these two were.” You point your thumb towards the back, “So now, I’m just tired.”
Colby nods, “Yeah. I expected to not stay out this late, but I should know by now who you guys are.” He chuckles and you scoff quietly with a smirk, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Colby smiles, and fuck. It’s insane how fast you still just melt into the seat for him.
“Party girl, y/n. Ever since high school.” He bites down on his lip and you know his mind went to that memory of you and him sneaking off at Friday night party because yours went there, too.
“You started that.” You point to him, “So, that isn’t on me.” You laugh quietly and you would have swore it was just you and him again, but the loud snort that came from one of the sleeping drunks, robs you of that being true.
“Mhm.” Colby smirks as he parks the car, “You get one I’ll get the other?” You rest your head back, closing your eyes as you prepare to drag Tay’s body into the house.
You sigh, opening your eyes to find his already on yours. You feel a heat rising in your cheeks and you nod, “Let’s get it over with.”
You get out, finding your key before opening Tay’s door. You lean over, looking up at Colby as you both lean in to unbuckle the girls.
Fuck you wanted to kiss him again - No, no.
You shake your head and lean back, pulling Tayla’s seatbelt with you. You see a slight look of disappointment on Colby’s face as you glance up at him.
Before he can say anything, you start to pull Tayla from the car, “C’mon, T.” She groans, resting your head on your shoulder.
You spin around and close the door, making sure your grip is tight on her as you walk her up the sidewalk to the front door of the house, “Alright, hey. I have to unlock the door, okay?”
Tay starts to giggle, “You do..” she pokes your cheek, “What-whatevvveer it is you got ta do.” She laughs and looks over at Colby and Mara, “MarMar!”
You laugh as you push the door open, “Oh my god.” You shake your head, motioning for Tayla, “Come on. You have to be quiet.”
“Quiet.” Tayla repeats in a hushed whisper, “Got it.” She walks in with you guiding her, Colby following with a now grumpy Mara.
She groans, trying to push away from Colby, “m-mm. I can- I can do it myself.” Colby sighs, “alright.”
You glance back, watching as Mara tries to remove her still buttoned jacket. You laugh to yourself, closing your eyes as you take a deep breath.
“Stay here.” You look at Tay and she nods, “Yes ma’am.”
You roll your eyes, laughing as you make your way to your sister, bending down to unbutton the last button on her jacket, “Alright. There. Now come on. Follow Tay.”
“Tay!?” She looks up and gasps, “She’s still here!”
You give Colby a look and shake your head as you sigh, laughing as you walk back to Tayla, “Alright, can you do the steps?”
Tay nods, but in reality, it was a dreadful, ten minute stair climb. Once you were up the steps, you kicked open the door to the room you stayed in as a kid.
Colby takes Mara to her old room and then you both eventually meet out in the hall.
You pull the door closes behind you, making sure to be as quiet as possible. You turn, freezing when you see Colby walk out of Mara’s, doing exactly what you did.
He turns, freezing when he sees you.
You kick your heels off, pushing them out of the way before you just walk past Colby and down the steps, but he’s hot on your trail, “Y/n.” His voice is quiet, “Hey. Please.”
You make your way into the kitchen, flipping on the lights above the sink, giving you more than just the moonlight pouring through the windows.
You turn, looking at him as he walks through the door, “What are we doing, Colby?” You press one of your hands to your cheek, “Y-you’re with my sister.. but th-“
You stop talking, shaking your head, “You’re with my sister.”
“But what?” He asks and you look up at him, “You’re with my sister. So, it doesn’t matter.”
“You had me first, y/n.”
His words catch you off guard, all you can manage to shoot back is a sharp, “so?”
You can tell he wasn’t sure where he was going with that either, but he shakes his head, “I knew you were Mara’s sister. I know what we have in the past, frankly.” He shrugs, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the day we broke up.”
“The day you and Sam moved to LA.” You correct, shooting a smirk at him.
He sighs, smirking, “The day I ruined your life, alright.”
You laugh, pointing to him, “There ya go.”
He rolls his eyes, “Still the same fucking fire you had in you when you were eighteen.”
You smile, cheeks turning darker, “I’ve missed you.”
The words feel like they’ve barely left your tongue. Your voice was so quiet, you didn’t think Colby heard until you feel his hand slide over top of yours.
“I wish you knew how much I want to message you each time I see you like my posts.” His thumb brushes over your skin, “How much I just want to call you, talk to you. Catch you up on everything in between that day and now, stuff you don’t see on social media.”
You feel like you could puke.
Colby’s unexpected confession has your nerves zipping back and forth at high speed, “I-I don’t..” you sigh, trying to calm yourself down, “Colbs.”
He smirks at the nickname you gave him in high school as you try to stay focused, “I-..” you sigh, “You’re with my si-“
He cuts you off, words coming out fast, “Say the word and I’ll be with you.”
You stand there in silence as you stare at him.
You knew what you wanted to do, but you also knew that what you wanted to do, was one of the absolute worst things you could possibly do.
But, you do it anyway.
Your hand drags along the grey marbled island top as you walk around the thing that’s standing between you and Colby.
Inches from each other, you look up at him. His hand slowly reaches up to caress your face, and as soon as his touch meets your skin, that’s the last sign of gentle you saw for a while.
His hand moves down to your neck, gripping tightly before your lips were on his. Your hands work at your jeans, unbuttoning them and pushing the zipper down before your push them down your thighs.
Your hands slide up Colby’s chest, moaning quietly and he bites down on your lip.
His other hand moves to your hip, pushing you to spin so he can lift you up onto the counter. He pulls your jeans down, letting them fall to the floor and your thighs immediately divorce each other as soon as his hands lay on your knees.
His lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at random spots. He kisses up to just below your ear, fingers pushing further and further up the inside of your thighs, “I’ve thought about this pussy every day.”
You moan at his words and he muffles them quickly with a kiss, “hush now, baby. It’d be a shame if we got caught.”
You nod, whimpering quietly as his fingers hook into your panties and pull them aside. He grips your bottom lip with his teeth and tilts his head back before allowing your lip to gently slap back against your top, “Still wet for me?”
Colby’s voice is deep, slightly raspy, and so, so hot.
That alone was such a turn on, and right there was how you knew you were absolutely fucked.
“you know I am.” You manage to whisper out. You grab the collar of his shirt and pull him into you. Your lips press to his and you gasp as two of his fingers push into your eager opening.
“Fuck.” You whimper quietly, wrapping your leg around his waist, “Colby.”
Colby he reaches up, laying his hand on your neck, his lips meet yours once more before he leans down, throwing your legs over his shoulders and not wasting another second before plunging his tongue where his fingers just were.
He groans against you, pressing his face into your to muffle his own moans. You lay a hand over your mouth, looking at Colby devouring you like he used to do years ago.
You did feel bad, you really didn’t want to hurt Mara, but at the same time, Colby’s eyes locking onto yours as he grins like the devil just tops everything.
You reach down, pulling him up to you. Your hands move to his belt and his lips kiss any skin he can find.
You try to quiet the clanking of metal as you pull the leather through. Once out, you unbutton and zip his pants and he’s pushing them down with you.
He grips your thighs, sliding you to the edge of the counter and your legs lift up to lay on his hips as he pulls his cock from his boxers.
You watch down as his cock slides into you and Colby slaps his hand over your mouth right as you start to moan.
He pulls you closer to him as he slowly pull out and thrusts back in to you, this time, bottoming out completely.
Your eyes roll back and your nails dig into the back of his neck. You look up at him, brows burrowed as you squeeze his cock.
He groans lowly into your hair before looking down at you, “So much better than I remember.” He presses his lips to yours, moving them in sync as he thrusts slowly into you.
You moan against his lips, already feeling that band in your belly tightening, “M’gonna cum.” You mumble with your lips still smashed to his.
He nods, resting his forehead against yours, “Mhm.” He presses his lips to your slightly sweaty forehead and he brings a hand up to cup your cheek, “Feels so good, baby girl.”
You squeeze around him, and he chuckles at the indication, “Still like that, huh?” He brushes his lips against your cheek and you whimper out, “Yes.”
He smirks, “Be a good girl and cum for me.”
Your grip on him tightens, and you roll your hips forward as you moan quietly. Colby’s brows raise and he lets out a breath, “Fuck, do that again.” He squeezes your hips, “That felt good.”
You roll your hips, meeting his thrusts the best you can as your orgasm rolls in, wreaking havoc over every inch of your body.
Your legs start to shake and you bury your face into Colby’s shoulder. He slides his hand up your back, holding you close as he guides you through your high.
His following close behind.
It didn’t register until after you were redressed that he didn’t pull out, but you just shrugged it off. You wanted all the time with Colby you could get right now.
After he buckles his belt, he walks over to you, “Hi.”
You smile, laying your hands on his biceps, “Hi.”
His eyes scan your face, licking his lips as he shakes his head, “I should have just messaged you.” You nod, “I agree with you on that one..”
You laugh slightly, “Now we’re in this.. this mess..”
Colby knew you were stressing. The only thing Mara ever talked about was how special or a relationship you guys have.
He cups your cheeks, “Hey.” He makes you look at him, “Well figure this out.”
You nod, “we will?”
He nods, “We will.”
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Since I haven’t posted much, I added a little subplot for you all 🖤 thanks for reading, I love you all so much.
A FEW WEEKS LATER
Ever since that night at your parents, you and Colby have been non stop texting, calling, talking - you’ve been basically catching each other up over things that happened within the last seven years.
Mara still doesn’t know what happened that night.
Your poor parents still don’t know about the island countertop.
You and Colby were just in your own little world for a little while.
“Fuck.” Your roommate, Jordan, groans from the bathroom, “Do we have stain remover, y/n?” You look up from your phone and close your eyes, “Um, yeah. I think there’s some on the shelve above the washer.”
You look over towards the bathroom, “What did you stain?” You laugh slightly and your smile fades as she walks out holding up her red stained pants.
“Oh, fuck. Okay. Here.” You walk over to her, taking her pants, “I’ll make you a lemon juice mixture. This just happened to me last month.”
“You and your little hacks. I’m glad we’re roomies.” She laughs and walks over, watching as you grab the lemon from the fridge.
You smile, “Right!” You grab a knife and slice the lemon a few times before you have to stop because you felt like you were going to puke.
“Y/n?” Jordan leans in, “Are you okay? You just went pale.” She stands up, “Hey.”
“Be right back.” You manage to choke out before dropping the knife and bolting to the bathroom. You slam the door shut, falling to your knees and heaving over the toilet.
You reach up, pulling down the silver handle and leaning back. You shake your head, thinking to yourself how weird that was. You’ve never gotten sick over smelling a lemon before.
Jordan knocks on the door, “Hey, you okay in there?”
You turn your head slightly, “Y-yeah. I’m good. I think I might be coming down with something.”
“Oh no. Keep it to yourself please.” She laughs slightly, “What am I talking about, I probably already have it.”
“I’ll be out in a second.” You explain to her how to apply the mixture before getting that sick feeling again.
“Okay. If you need anything let me kn-“
You lean forward, gagging as squeeze your eyes shut, “Oh fuck.” You wipe your mouth and let out a sigh. You pull your buzzing phone out and see a text from Mara.
Your heart sinks a little as you open it, Mom and Dad want us to go home at least once a month now. I guess they missed having us at home.
You let out a breath of air and rest your head back against the wall, taking a second to calm your racing heart before you reply, Sounds good to me.
You go to set your phone down but then you see the date.
Your heart starts to race again.
You quickly unlock your phone and go to your period tracker app and your heart falls into your stomach as the words in the circle read, PERIOD IS FOUR DAYS LATE.
“Oh shit.” You scramble to your feet, any feeling of sick being gone and now you were just freaking out. You wipe your forehead, washing your hands before walking as calmly as you can from the bathroom.
“I’m going to run to the store quick, pick up some juice or something, plus I need pads.” You lie, I just got my fucking period, too.”
She groans, trying not to laugh, “Oh shit, dude. Well you know what they say. Girls who hang around together a lot tend to sync cycles.”
“I blame you.” You squint your eyes, “Do you need anything?” She shakes her head, “Oh!” She holds up her fingers, “Grab me one of those coffee Starbucks frappe things.”
“Okay. Text me if you think of anything else.” You walk towards the door, grabbing your keys before you open it and leave.
You let out a shaky breath, trying not to cry as you go to your car. As soon as you get in and connect to the Bluetooth, Colby’s name appears on the screen of your car.
“Fuck. Okay.” You take a deep breath, hitting answer, “Hey, Colbs!”
You can tell he’s smiling through the phone, “What’s up, baby girl?”
You smile slightly and start driving, “I’m just running to the store, Jordan is sick so I’m going to get her some stuff. What’s are you up to?”
“Sam and I are just editing a new video and we took a break, so I figured I’d call you.” Colby yawns, “I’m so tired.”
Tired. Thats another thing you’ve been.
“I feel that. These last few weeks have been just a shit show at work.” You lie again.
You didn’t want to say anything until there was another line indicating that there was even anything that needed to be said.
“Anything in particular?” Colby asks and you sigh, “Just other people, you know.” You pull into the parking lot of the store and lean back, “You and Sam going on any new adventures soon?”
Colby chuckles, “Actually, okay. So I did have another reason to call you.”
You laugh, “What’s the first reason?”
Colby laughs, “Well, because I wanted to talk to you, hear your voice, obviously.” You laugh slightly and tilt your head, “Yeah. I needed to hear yours, too.”
“Aw how sweet.” Colby teases and you roll your eyes with a smile, “Anyway. Reason number two?”
“I talked to Sam and he thinks it’ll be a good idea if you do a video with us. Like a mini high school reunion special, Tayla can come too.” Colby says and you smile, “Yeah.” You say, totally ignoring your current situation, “I know I would and I’m sure Tayla wouldn’t say no to that.”
“Great. Great. I’ll talk to Sam and then I’ll keep you posted with the deats, yeah?”
“Sounds good, Colby.” You smile and hear Sam yelling in the background, “Hi, y/n!” You smile, “Hi Sam!”
“Alright. I’ll text you. Gotta get back to that grind.” Colby laughs, “Ya know?”
“I do. Have fun.” You smile and Colby scoffs, “I will now that you said to.”
You laugh, “Bye.”
“Bye.”
As soon as the car goes silent, tears well up in your eyes and you just start sobbing. Fuck these hormones, you think as you try to pull yourself together.
You take a few deep breaths and grab your bag and keys before walking in.
You managed to get in, grab a few things, the tests and get out. You cried the whole way home. No matter what you did, you couldn’t stop it.
Finally once you were home and in the driveway. You pulled it together, hoping you could hold it long enough.
You walk in, “Hey. I’m back.” You close the door and walk over to the counter, setting down the bags. You get the stuff out and grab the box of pads, “I’ll be back.”
You hand Jordan her drink as you walk by, avoiding eye contact because you couldn’t, not only answer, but handle a why are you crying question right now.
You sit down on the toilet, tossing the box to the floor before opening your purse. You stuffed the box with the tests in there as a way to keep your potential secret hidden from Jordan.
A few moments later, you set the stick down on the counter, covering it with the instructions because you couldn’t care to look.
You set a timer for three minutes, stopping it right before it goes off. You sit there for another second, feeling almost unable to look at it.
You muster up enough courage and pull the paper off, revealing a double lined answer.
It feels like hours pass by as you stare at the tiny oval shaped screen.
You blink, shaking your head as you pick it up, laughing in disbelief as you cover your mouth with your free hand.
You look around, eyes wide as you panic on what to do, “Mm. Fuck.” You set the test on your lap and grab your phone from the sink.
Your thumb hovers over the little phone icon, shaking like a scared Chihuahua, “Fuck.” You sigh and slowly bring your phone to your ear.
By the time your phone meets your ear, you hear Colby talking, “Hey, sweetheart.”
You break, taking in a choked sob, sniffling as you try and talk, “C-col-“ you cover your mouth, you don’t want to be loud enough go get Jordan’s attention.
The less people that know, the better.
You keep your eyes closed, listening to Colby’s soothing voice, “Hey, hey. Y/n.” You can tell he stands up and starts walking, Sam asks him where he’s going. He doesn’t answer him, he just keeps walking, “What’s going on, y/n?”
Your tear filled eyes are locked onto the two lines and you can’t bring yourself to say anything.
“Hey. If this is about us and what we’re doing I pr-“
You cut him off, “n-no. No.” You shake your head to yourself, “I-it’s not that.” You sniffle, looking up, “Um.”
“Whatever it is, I’m here for you.” Colby assures and you can’t help but laugh, still unable to believe that this is happening, even though it’s right here in front of you.
You were scared. Scared for what is going to be said about you from Mara. Tayla. Your parents.
You feel your heart rate pick up again and you close your eyes, trying to calm yourself down, but you just inevitably blurt it out, “I’m pregnant.”
It’s silent on both ends, at least for a few minutes before Colby breaks it, “Is it.. mine?”
“Yeah.” You breathe out, resting your elbow on the sink, hand on forehead, “Haven’t slept with anyone else since you.”
“Did you tell anyone else, sweetheart?”
You smile slightly as a tear falls down your cheek, “Mm. No.”
“Do you know how far along you are?” Colby’s voice is soft, gentle. He didn’t seem mad, but you felt like you needed to ask, “Probably like four or five weeks? They won’t get me in for an ultrasound until eight weeks.”
You take a brief pause, “Are you mad?”
“Mad?” He questions right away, “Why would I be mad? This is on me, too.” He chuckles slightly, “I mean, I knew I’d find you again, but I didn’t plan on having this happen right off the bat.”
“I was on birth control, I promise. I must have..” you groan quietly, “missed a pill.” You feel like you want to start crying again but Colby’s voice snaps you out of it, “Shit happens, Princess. We’ll get by. I promise, It’s okay.”
“I’ve been sitting here long enough, I think I’m going to take this other test, just to be sure.” You reach into the box and pull out the other test, unwrapping it before you set your phone and other test on the counter.
“I’m here, okay.” Colby reminds you, “I’m sorry you’re doing this alone.”
“It’s okay.” You whisper as you cap the test, setting it down, “Now we wait. Three minutes.”
After an almost quiet three minutes passes, you let out a sigh, “Okay.” You sit up, reaching for the test, already knowing what it’s about to read.
“Is it the same as the first?” Colby asks and you flip it over, taking in a sharp breath, “Yeah.”
“Okay I’m coming.”
“What?!” You lean forward, “Colby, you can’t what ab-“
“I told you. We will figure this out, and it just so happens that Sam and I have a place to investigate in Seattle, which just so happens to be where you’re living.”
“Mhm.” You smile slightly, “What a coincidence.”
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
Hi, hello. Sorry I haven’t been posting much. I’m currently working on giving each person their own masterlist and I have to make banners for each one and it’s just a process.
I hope this kind of made up for it. I love you all so much, thank you for reading and as always.. let me know what you thought of this!
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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duuhrayliegh · 3 days
Text
equal and opposite (consequences, pt. 2)
a/n: first of all, yall really showed out with the comments and reblogs on the first part of this so THANK YOU SO MUCH like i haven't written anything that i felt was good in months so to have such an overwhelmingly positive response to that post felt amazing!!!!
if you haven’t read part one, i highly recommend checking that out first!!!!
anyway, i hadn't originally intended for this to go anywhere else, but as i've said before bartender!bucky & peanut just wouldn't go away so here we are!!! i hope this lives up to the expectations and if we want more PLEASE LET ME KNOW I LIVE TO PLEASE
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“Can you please just sit down? I don’t understand what’s happening to us!”
“That’s the problem!”
He throws his hands above his head out of exasperation. They land on his hips as their new resting place and he levels you with a frustrated glare. A glare. Apparently, you’re not worth the energy it takes to filter the emotions from his tone or expressions. That luxury must be saved for his plethora of mistresses.
“You don’t understand me anymore!”
“Understand you?”
Going home has become harder and harder. Despite desperately wanting to fix your marriage, it seems your efforts might have been in vain. No matter how hard you try, your husband has made every effort to avoid having a real conversation with you. To say you’re at your wit's end would be generous.
“Yes! Coming home to you is too stressful for me. I’m in the office all week and then I come home to a wife who doesn’t put in any effort to make herself desirable for me.”
Your jaw dropped, as did the wooden spoon in your hand. His words float through your head on repeat. That voice you used to love, the same voice that vowed to always love and cherish you in his wedding vows. Now, you’re cooking for a man you don’t know.
“Then why stay with me? If I’m so clearly not what you want, why stay?”
There’s a drawn out silence that is accompanied by softly heaving breaths and the simmering pot of homemade spaghetti sauce.
“You’re what I want in a wife. You just don’t understand my needs in the way that Shelia does.”
Your blood boils. Shelia—the latest girlfriend in a string of girlfriends. How dare he? You turn to the stove and begin clicking everything off. You fume while gathering your purse and keys to a home that you no longer feel welcome in.
“This is why I didn’t want to get into this. You’re too emotional and I knew you’d play the victim whenever I’m suffering too!”
You roll your eyes, refusing to engage because you’ll only hurt yourself more. Instead, you pry the door open and slam it shut before trekking off down the hallway.
You don’t have a plan, all you know is that you need to get out. You’re lucky that you were wearing a hoodie and jeans whenever you started getting into it with John. It’s not the first time that you had to get out, so you’ve learned over the past few months.
Wind whips against your cheeks when you exit your apartment building. You pull your hood over your head and start walking aimlessly. You reach for your phone and dial the first number you think of.
You never stop walking, street lamps lighting the sidewalk with a pale yellow light. There’s an irritating sting starting behind your eyes that you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t have to listen to the trilling of the phone line for long before it’s interrupted.
“Commando’s. How can I help you?”
The music in the bar is loud enough that you can clearly make out Steve’s divorced dad rock playlist. A rush of relief shoots down your spine and you breathe a sigh while enjoying the subtle ambiance through your phone speaker.
“Hello?”
It’s only then that you realize you’ve been on the phone for the past thirty seconds without saying anything.
“Bucky?”
“Peanut?”
“Hi, uh--I didn't have your number and I didn't know who else to call."
"Hang on, Peanut. I'm here, hang on." Suddenly the music is reduced to a bouncing bass line. "Are you okay?"
You continue walking, breathing in the stale air of the city as you debate your answer. For the most part, sure, you're okay. You’re not physically harmed in any way, just a deep emotional hurt that persists through the stark cold of the air around you. But if someone looked twice, or you spend more than half a second around someone you're comfortable with, that answer wouldn’t hold water.
"The wheels, Peanut, I can hear them. I need you to answer me. Are you okay?"
Bucky's voice is soft and grounding. Your heartbeat starts to match the steady baseline of the bar's music.
"I'm okay?"
Bucky's soft laugh echoes through the phone speaker, "That sounded like a question more than an answer, Peanut." He then pauses and sighs, "What did he do now?"
You suck in a sharp breath, debating on how to answer his question. The lead weight that had previously settled in your stomach begins to lessen as you hear Bucky’s voice.
On the one hand, Bucky has become the person you feel the most comfortable with. You don't have anyone close to you in the city because you moved out here to support John's career. Your family is on the other side of the country, and it's not like you've had a whole lot of time to build a support system here.
On the other, Bucky didn't sign up for this. He didn't sign up for a broken wife that isn't even his! You have no connection to him outside of becoming a regular at his bar and forming a possibly misguided attraction.
“Peanut? Come on back to me."
“Sorry, Buck. I just—“ you trail off, not entirely sure how to handle yourself.
“Don’t worry about it, Peanut Butter.” You laugh softly at the lengthier version of your nickname while he continues talking. “Look, how about we meet somewhere so we can talk?”
“Aren’t you working tonight though? I can just come to the bar.”
No matter how appealing Bucky’s offer is, you don’t want him to risk his livelihood for you. You aren’t worth that, not really.
“Not anymore, Pea. You’re more important to me. The guys here can handle the bar while I leave to take care of my Ps and Qs.”
You giggle again, unsure of where he comes up with these iterations.
“There she is.”
The words are murmured low, as if he was just speaking to himself. As if it’s a remark not meant for public consumption, just a murmur of his adoration.
“There’s a little hole in the wall on 115th and North. It’s called Winnie’s. Meet me there and you can talk for however long they’re serving coffee.”
"Don't diners always serve coffee?"
"They sure do. And Winnie's is a 24-hour diner. Which means," There's a loud shuffle on his end of the phone and then his voice cuts through. "you can talk to me for as long as you want, Peanut."
"Thank you, Bucky." You aren't as loud as you meant to be, but you know he hears you when he hums before you end the call.
Shoving the phone in the pocket of your jacket, you search for street signs.
And now you stand in front of Winnie's, a sixties diner straight off a movie set. Bright neon illuminates the street below, bathing you in a turquoise light that you're sure is not at all flattering. The front door is encased in chrome and vinyl covers the seating throughout the restaurant.
You push through the front doors and spy a large jukebox on the left side of the building. There's no host stand, so you peer around the seats in search of your bartender.
"Welcome to Winnie's. hun! Just take a seat, we'll be right with ya!"
An older woman yells from behind the bar top. Her graying hair is pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck and you're just about to read her nametag when you hear a familiar voice.
"Peanut! This-a-way!" Bucky stands from a booth in the corner, grabbing your attention and everyone else in the restaurant.
A bright blush colors your cheeks as you make your way to his booth in the corner. The linoleum floor of the diner becomes increasingly interesting the closer you find yourself to Bucky. To be completely truthful, you've never seen Bucky outside of the bar, so this is a jarring, but welcome experience.
He's still wearing those annoyingly large boots and tight white shirt that never fails to distract you when you're sitting on the twirly bar stools. His metal arm is on full display, the gold in-lay catching the light as he twists a straw wrapper into a tight spiral.
Bucky stands to greet you once you reach the booth, leaning toward you and wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your breath catches at his sudden body heat, but you waste no time in curling your arms around his torso.
"This might be the dumbest and most obvious question, but," he pulls back from the hug and gestures toward the seat across from him, "how’re you doing?"
A stifled laugh escapes as you settle into the worn vinyl seat. Instead of answering, you pull a less-than-convincing smile that you know Bucky can see right through. Evidenced by the fact that he laughs sarcastically at the look of it.
"Yeah, thought as much."
"It's just all becoming too much, I think."
An older woman brings two coffee mugs to the table, gripping a half-full coffee pot in her other hand. You stop yourself before you divulge anything in the presence of strangers. You don't need to burden another random stranger with your problems, Bucky is more than enough.
“Who's your friend, Jamie?"
Bucky smiles while introducing you to the woman. He extends the same courtesy to you, placing the name of the woman in front of you.
"Peanut, this is Winnie. She's the owner and operator of Winnie's diner."
Bucky pours a healthy dose of sugar into your coffee mug and then drops a spoon into it before pushing it across to you. You're in the middle of taking a large sip of the hot drink when Bucky continues talking.
"She's also my mother."
“Oh!"
He laughs as you sputter, completely phased by his nonchalance about introducing you to his mother. To be fair, you don’t really know Bucky outside of him being a great listener and mixologist. Winnie laughs and talks with the both of you before politely excusing herself to take care of her other customers.
“Your mother?”
Bucky leans forward and locks eyes with you.
“I’m so sorry. She wasn’t meant to be working today, but you would have met her one way or another.”
There he goes again, that dizzying nonchalance that bleeds into every word he speaks. Your mouth opens to speak, but you're still in a state of stunned that has you stumbling on your words.
"I'm just kidding, Nutter Butter." Bucky laughs and you hum while picking at your cuticles.
"Sorry, just took me by surprise."
"Clearly."
Bucky glances at your hands that are resting on the table and shifts around his side of the booth. There's a brief moment of silence as you mull over what Winnie has said.
"Did she call you 'Jamie'?"
Bucky lets out a loud laugh. One of those laughs that sounds like the feeling snuck up on everyone, including the person laughing.
"That's what you focused on, Peanut?"
You're smiling more in the past five minutes with Bucky than you have in the past five months with John. Bucky stops shuffling and then removes his coffee cup from the saucer it sits on. He slides the tiny plate toward you as you talk.
"Thank you for meeting me, Buck. Like I said, I think I'm just getting too tired of his bullshit. He really came at me today with the attitude that this is all my fault." Bucky nods as you continue speaking, "As if I'm the one who asked for an open marriage."
Bucky reveals a Ziplock bag and dumps the contents of it into the saucer in front of you. You're just about to start a rant when he nudges a salty shell into your hands. You glance down for half a second before getting the ball rolling.
"John asked for this! He's the one that's causing all this... this turmoil in our relationship. I haven't gone on a single date! I haven't caused a single issue. All I've been trying to do is understand things from his point of view, but he won't even give me the time of day to do that. I can't even suggest something like marriage counseling because he runs out the door the second he sees me enter a goddamn room."
You stop to take another long sip of your coffee while Bucky sits back and lets you rant at him across from yet another counter. You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, clearly holding back from saying something.
"I don't even know what to do anymore!" You huff and shove your hair over your shoulder. "What do you think?"
"Do you want my honest opinion or do you want me to just be here for you?"
"I want you to be you."
"Okay." Bucky nods, you crack open yet another peanut and place the shell on a napkin next to the plate. "I think you should start considering divorcing ol' Johnny boy."
"I can't do that."
Your response is immediate. Too quick to be healthy really. The shell of the peanut cracks between your fingers, revealing the salty perfection inside.
"Alright, divorce is off the table. How do you feel about separation?"
"No."
"Why?"
"It goes against everything I was raised to believe. I was brought up under the idea that the person you marry is the person you stick next to no matter what."
"Even when that person isn't extending the same courtesy?"
"I just--" You sniffle, peeling open yet another peanut. "I just want to be loved, Bucky. I don't understand what I did to make him look for love and affection from someone other than me."
Bucky reaches across the table and covers your hand with his, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles soothingly. You found yourself in this same position three months ago. It was when Bucky first told you of his interest in dating you.
To be perfectly honest, you were about two slow blinks away from folding into his arms then. Nothing's changed. You're still half a second from completely melting for the man before you, but you can't get over the fact that you're married.
"Peanut, you may never understand his reasoning. Especially when he won't sit down and explain anything to you. I think you should do what's in your best interest. If you don't want to divorce or separate, then you need to surround yourself with people who will give you that love and affection that you need."
A soft lull coats the pair of you and you allow your eyes to lock with Bucky's. What you find there shocks you.
Pity is something that you never, ever want to experience, but with a shitty situation like your marriage, you've come to expect it. Every time you glance in a mirror or catch your reflection in a store window, or even a puddle of water, you find your own eyes layered with that sickening sadness that accompanies self-pity.
However, in Bucky's clear blue eyes, you find nothing but determination. Determination for what is the question you're now faced with. In all reality, Bucky has no dog in this fight. He has no reason to be helping you the way that he has. Bucky's expressed interest in you, sure, but that doesn't constitute going to the lengths that he does.
"I just want you to be happy."
"Do you think you could make me happy?"
"Absolutely."
You nod while popping the last peanut into your mouth and wiping your hands off on your jeans. You stand unceremoniously and then hold your hand out to Bucky. He stares at your outstretched hand in half-baked shock and then jumps at the opportunity.
"See ya later, Ma! Love ya."
"Will you be home for family dinner?"
"Nope, gotta take my Peanut to the ballgame!"
Bucky rushes you out of the diner and pulls you to a heavy-looking motorcycle. You laugh as he pries open one of the saddlebags on the bike. He reveals two helmets, one white and one black. Both have sleek features with a face cover that reflects Bucky's sharp features.
"What?" His laugh that follows is full of nervous energy as you continue to laugh. "What's so funny?"
"It just--" You snort quietly, "You would drive a motorcycle."
"Oh yeah? And why's that, Peanut Brittle?"
You wave your hand as if you're circling his whole body and shrug while smiling your ass off.
"You just gestured to all of me."
You both break into a fit of laughter, only for Bucky to break it off and unclip the chin strap of the white helmet.
"Well, does safety also fit with..." he does the same gesture as you, "all this?"
Bucky gently rests the helmet on the leather seat of the motorcycle and then leans over to you.
"You might want to pull your hair back. Trust me I love your hair down, but whenever you're riding it's easier in the long run."
"Oh, okay." You begin to pull your hair back when you remember that your hair tie is on the counter at your apartment. "Actually, I think I'll suffer the consequences."
Bucky glances at you and then asks, "You need a tie?"
He prompts you to turn around and he quickly coaxes your hair into a neat ponytail at the base of your neck. You turn back to him with wide eyes, your hand reaching back to check the hairstyle.
"Come on. I've got plans, Payday! I've got ideas to romance ya!"
You laugh while Bucky beams and puts the white helmet over your head. Once it's secured, he swipes the visor up and boops your nose. You scrunch it in retaliation and he shakes his head at you. He grips the sides of your helmet and tilts your head to the side. A loud Bluetooth signal sounds and a robotic female voice informs you that the device has been connected.
"So, basic rules of the bike. I lean, you lean." He taps on the side of the helmet he just fiddled with. "This is a microphone, so we'll be able to communicate without the visors being up. Don't be afraid to squeeze if you feel a little wobbly. I promise I can handle whatever you give me, Peanut."
You flush at his words, thankful that you're already wearing the helmet so he isn't privy to the bright red coloring overtaking your cheeks. Bucky slips on his own helmet and mounts the bike in one smooth motion. His hands glide to the handlebars and then he turns to face you and jerk his head in the opposite direction.
You release a deep breath and give yourself a mini pep talk before placing your hands on Bucky's shoulders. The difference between them keeps you grounded as you swing your leg over the back of the motorcycle. His voice shoots into your ears, a breathy fuck me that wasn't meant for your ears.
"You ready?"
This question is at a normal level, and you respond in kind. The bike roars to life beneath you and you jolt toward him, arms immediately wrapping around his waist tightly.
"Hold on tight, spider monkey."
You giggle and interlock your fingers above the waistline of his jeans. Now, you can feel every breath he takes, every minuscule contraction of his muscles from every movement he makes to control the beast between his legs. You try to take steady breaths in order to control your heartbeat and match Bucky's, but the faster he goes, the faster your heart beats against his back.
City lights blur past as you find your rhythm behind Bucky. The more comfortable you get, the looser your grip becomes around him. He takes you through downtown with all the newer, hipster restaurants inhabiting the busy streets. Bucky begins to slow and you look up to see his profile illuminated under the bright red of the traffic stop.
His feet rest on the ground beside the bike, holding it upright while it rumbles idly. Bucky leans back into you, his hands moving from the handlebars to your thighs. He traces the skin that's exposed by the rips of your jeans. The loose material allows just enough space for his fingers to burrow beneath and trace meaningless patterns into your skin.
Butterflies make themselves known in the pit of your stomach, along with another slightly less prominent heat building at his touch on your skin.
"We're almost there, Peanut Brittle." Bucky's voice is melodic through the microphone. You could fall asleep listening to him read a phone book.
The bike thunders to life again as Bucky releases the clutch. More buildings fade as he continues to steer the two of you down the less traveled streets.
"Where are you taking me?"
"Somewhere fun!"
He laughs at your little groan. Surprises aren't necessarily your favorite thing, but if it's Bucky, maybe it'll be tolerable.
Suddenly, Bucky drops his right hand from the bars and indicates his next turn. The pair of you lean in that direction slightly as he slows into a parking lot of a roller rink. The sign for the Rockin' Roller Rink has a bright yellow arrow blinking toward the building at the base of its billboard.
He rolls into a parking spot near the entrance and pops the kickstand out to steady the bike. You peel yourself off of his back and rest your hands on your thighs while taking in your surroundings. Bucky slips his helmet off and then turns his torso to face you.
"As much as I love you on my ride, Peanut, you have to get off first."
You flush red beneath the visor and quickly dismount. However, in your rush to get off, you don't realize how unstable your legs are as they bear your full weight after the ride. Bucky's hands shoot out to your waist as he remains on the bike, a wry grin on his lips.
"Sorry, should've warned you about that." He stands in front of you and dusts off your shoulders before deciding that you're okay. "It's because of the riding position when you're on the bike. If you aren't used to that, it can be a little jarring the first few times."
He takes your helmet and then removes the keys from the ignition. Bucky bends at the waist and hooks his key carabiner to your belt loops.
As he straightens to his full height, he remarks with a wink, "Plus, the vibrations don't help much either."
You squawk unattractively and smack his chest with the back of your hand while he belly laughs. His metal hand hovers over your lower back as he guides you into the double doors of the roller rink. While he pulls open the door for you, you think about all the times that your husband has failed to do even that act of basic decency.
You shake your head as you walk in, determined to put him out of your mind. That is until you remember the one stipulation of your open marriage--you both have to disclose when you go on dates. Your mind drifts to all the unanswered texts he's sent you about his various dates. Little quips that accomplish nothing but remind you that your husband sees you as less than. A relationship that he no longer has to put effort into and hasn't for some time now. You take your phone from your back pocket to shoot John a quick text, a sour look overtaking your face as you do.
On a date, be home later. You’re quick to swipe your phone onto do not disturb and shove it back into your pocket. You aren’t ready to face the hypocrisy that John will manage to cook up.
"You okay, Peanut?" Bucky's voice clears everything. All the swirling doubt, the immense turmoil that you feel when you think of John, everything negative is wiped when you focus on Bucky.
Perhaps that's also an issue. Maybe you need to be single instead of dating. Maybe you need to love yourself before anyone else can effectively love you. What if that's the real issue? The real reason why John had to seek affection outside of your marital bonds. Maybe it was because you were so unloveable to the point that it was more effort to work through your issues than find an effortless partner somewhere else.
A cold finger taps your temple causing you to blink harshly and refocus on the man before you. This man who's become your safe haven, your harbor in this horrific storm that is your marriage. The man who brings peanuts to his mother's diner because you called him to meet up. The man who knows you better than your husband who you've known for half your life.
"The wheels," your bartender reminds you as he pulls you to the side of the room. His arms envelop you until all you can process is biceps, one cold and one warm. Bucky's cheek rests against your head and you can't find it in yourself to stop from melting into his touch. "How about this," he shifts away from you just enough to meet your eyes, "you just take it one hour at a time?"
"One hour?" You ask, brows furrowing skeptically at the concept. You've never been someone who just focuses on the thing in front of you. Your whole life you had a plan--get married, have kids, and secure a stable home life. Although, now that you think about it, your way isn't really that effective. What has your way got you? A decaying marriage, no kids, and a job that you tolerate at most.
"Just one at a time. Nothing can be that daunting if it's one at a time." He smiles big and leans forward, "And let's face it, your first hour is going to be spent watching me almost bust my ass on rollerblades."
You giggle and look at the ground, only for Bucky to lift your face up with a finger on your chin. He stares deep into your eyes, making you think if you stare long enough, you'll meld into one. His grip changes so that most of his fingers cup your jaw, allowing his thumb to trace your bottom lip. His metal finger tugs downward on your lip, releasing it from the hold between your teeth.
"That's definitely one of my current favorite noises you make." He struts off to the front counter, you trailing behind with a confused look on your face at his dopey smile. The implications of his comment seeping into your bones causing a deep heat to light in the pit of your stomach.
As you approach the teller, Bucky's already disclosed his shoe size for the rental pair of skates. The teenager behind the counter makes a bored grunt at the instruction and turns to you, waiting for your size before they trot off to fill the order. Once again, you're left alone with your bartender.
You lean against the raised platform, shoulder digging into the overhanging lip of the counter. During this brief moment of solitude, you take your time taking in Bucky. He really is a mountain of a man, coming in at six-foot-five inches of corded muscle and steel, he's really nothing less than impressive.
His hair just brushes the top of his broad shoulders, though you hardly ever see it down. He always manages to have it tied securely at the base of his neck. However one time, you remember walking into the bar only to see Bucky behind the bar, as usual. Except his hair was bundled on the top of his head. Little wisps of hair fell from the looser hold, framing his forehead and neck. On top of that, he was wearing a red henley that was at least two sizes too small with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his differing forearms in the dim light of Commandos.
It's safe to say that during those few hours you spent with Bucky looking like that, you were a little slower to respond. What's interesting though is that Bucky looks nothing like John. You always thought that John was your ideal man. Based on who you married, you would have assumed you'd be more attracted to Steve than Bucky. Instead, you find yourself lacing up a pair of rental roller skates, that might give you athlete's foot if you're not careful, with the imposing dark-haired man next to you.
"Why bartending?"
The question floats between you as you take the floor. Glistening hardwood reflects the bright neon of the strobe lights and your image beside Bucky. You watch as he glances down at you before refocusing his attention on the path in front of him.
"Well, if I'm being honest, I kind of stumbled into it." He wobbles dangerously as he speaks, hand jutting out to grasp yours in an act of safety. "Shit, sorry." He apologizes sheepishly but makes no move to drop your hand.
You giggle beside him, butterflies awakening from his act of self-comfort, a feeling you haven't felt since your relationship with John began. Bucky squeezes your hand, straightens his back, and pulls you around the rink.
"When I was discharged, it wasn't so much as bartending as it was the ownership of the bar. It gave me a chance to gain some semblance of control back." He stares off into the distance as he speaks as if he's reciting words he said time and time before. You peer up at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation.
Even though you've known Bucky for as long as you have, neither of you has really delved too deep into your pasts. To say you know next to nothing about Bucky's time in the military would be generous. You hum while you ponder his answer.
"Does that need carry into other aspects of your life?"
It's a genuine question, something to move the conversation along because you honestly want to know more about the man beside you. The double entendre of the question doesn't process until you see Bucky blushing beside you with a wry grin. Your eyes bulge, words stammering out of your mouth without finding their full forms.
"Oh-- uh, n— that's not wh--" Your eyes drop to the ground beneath you, the sleek wood reflecting the neon disco of the roller rink lights.
Bucky chuckles beside you, slowly rubbing his thumb against the knuckles of the hand he still holds. He steers the pair of you to the side of the rink, locking you against the slightly sticky bannister with his strong forearms. You quickly level him with a questioning stare as he leans forward and takes a deep breath, undoubtedly getting a strong whiff of your soft vanilla and cherry perfume.
“I’m trying to be very good for you, Peanut. So I’m going to say this once and then we’re going to continue with our date and it isn’t going to come up again until you bring it up yourself.” Your nod is almost imperceptible, but considering how Bucky continues without consequence, you figure he was just mentally preparing himself for his next comment.
“I am enamored with you. I want to have sex with you. I have fantasies that revolved exclusively around you. However, I’m not putting any pressure on this relationship or you. I understand that you need time to process your grief and your marriage, but just know that I’m more than happy to help you through the process and I certainly hope that I’m the first one you go to once you get to a place when you feel confident enough to explore your sexuality.”
You flush at his words, a hot streak racing up your spine before settling in your cheeks, blossoming them into a heavy shade of crimson. Bucky’s left hand comes up to your forehead, brushing away a strand of hair out of your face.
“But not only that, I want to have a relationship with you. I want the late night cuddles. I want the early morning breakfasts. I want to come home from the bar and take a shower with you. I want to wash your hair. I want you to massage my shoulders after a long day. I want to host Saturday barbecues with you for my family and our friends. I want to drive you to the bookstore and regret driving the motorcycle after you get so many because I just can’t say no to you.”
Bucky’s hand drifts down your arm, tracing the soft skin, taking his time to lace his fingers with yours. He pulls you away from the ledge, leading you two into the hustle and bustle of the roller rink. A smile stretches across his features as he tugs you along, a slow steady silence backed by the bumping base of the house music. You fumble with who to respond to him, but you eventually decide that no words are necessary. You know that yiu’ll be able to discuss things further later, you allow yourself to fall into the comfortable company that is your favorite bartender.
Time passes by at a rate you aren’t able to fathom. One moment you’re skating circles around Bucky, laughing as his arms jut out to his sides, steadying himself as he sways and wobbles. You flit out of his reach for a beat only for his arms to wrap around your waist, bringing you to his warm front. You squeal as you clutch his arms, the difference in temperature providing a level of comfort that you’ve been craving for months now.
You tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder, his long hair tickling the apples of your cheek. Soft puffs of air hit your face as he peers down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. He remains stoic, only his eyes giving you any indication that he wants more out of your current embrace.
“Attention all Rockin’ Roller Rink patrons, the rink will be closing in ten minutes! Please return all skates and other rentals to the front desk before leaving.”
The voice over the loudspeaker startles you causing you to jump in Bucky’s embrace. He tightens his hold on you, ensuring that you don’t topple over on your wheels. You breathe out a heavy sigh creating a slight distance between you.
“Come on, let’s go.”
Bucky is quick to follow you to the benches on the side to you could change your shoes so you can return the skates. You’re sure to take out your phone from your back pocket before sitting down. Against your better judgement, you swipe across the screen to turn off the silencing option. The screen illuminates and dozens of notifications flood the screen and you cringe. You shouldn’t feel bad, yore only doing what constitutes an open marriage. You sent the text, that was all that was required of you, and let’s be honest even that was more than what John deserves. Bucky leans back, shooting a glance at your now busy phone.
“Wow, he sure doesn’t miss a beat, does he?”
“Yeah, I’m sure everything he’s texted me the past two hours has been entirely supportive and not at all condescending or hostile.” Sarcasm bleeds into your words, making Bucky chuckle under his breath.
“Oh, ol’ Johnny boy? Nah, he’s nothing but a big old softy who knows that he’s only getting it as good as he’s giving it.” You huff at the comment just as your phone begins to buzz on the tabletop.
A groan leaves your mouth, slipping out before you can filter it. Bucky eyes you as your finger swipes the call button to accept. You haven’t even gotten the phone to your ear before John’s voice carries through the speaker, shouting expletives and derogatory remarks about you.
“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re on a fucking date right now? I can’t believe you!”
Your whole body cringes, and you rush to shove your shoes on to take the call outside. You leave without saying a word to Bucky, unable to look him in the eye while the supposed love of your life berates you over the phone.
“John, I don’t know what you’re upset about.” You tried to remain calm while he carried on. “I followed the single rule that you set in place.”
Bucky takes your free hand and leads you to his bike, leaning against the seat while he watches you pace in front of him. Your once smooth features are now ridged and tense, worry lines aging you ten years the second you get on the phone with John. Your forefinger and thumb find home on the bridge of your nose, pinching the bone there to prevent the sudden headache. You finally stop in your tracks, stomping your foot out of exasperation and then steel your voice.
“I refuse to allow you to speak to me this way, John. You’re the one that opened our marriage, I’m simply following the precedent that you set. I honestly have no idea what your issue with this is.” Your eyes dart to Bucky, “Now, I don’t feel comfortable coming home when you’re speaking to me like this over the phone, so don’t wait up. I’ll come home when you cool off.”
Tears begin to rim your lash line as John continues to shout his lungs bloody. You refuse to meet Bucky’s eyes as you lower the phone, thumb hovering over the end call button. A dark metal palm extends your way, a silent ask for the phone that you don’t have the strength to deny. Bucky watches you as he brings the phone to his ear, listening to your husband’s rant.
“This is completely fucking ridiculous! You’re my wife and I demand you come home and we talk this out like adults. You’re being so unreasonable, right now. And the fact that you think it’s acceptable to text me you’re on a date instead of asking if you could go on one? Who the fuck do you think you are? It’s best you remember who you belong to. You’re so in for it whe—“
Bucky laughs, your head shoots up, eyes locking with his for the first time since you’ve evacuated the roller rink. The laugh is a short, sardonic laugh. One you’ve never heard him make before, almost as if he’s using it as a throat clear. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing how John reacts to being challenged in any capacity.
“Now, I don’t know who you think you are, talking to my Peanut the way that you are. But I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure, you aren’t going to be speaking to her that way ever again.”
It’s another thing about Bucky you’ve never experienced. His tone. It’s dull, lifeless, but full threats that made your skin grow cold and your spine stiffen. You knew Bucky would never cause you harm, but those who hurt the people he loved? The same respect isn’t extended.
“And who the fuck is this?”
“I’m the guy.”
He’s eerily calm, the type of calm you’ve never seen him. You’ve been a distant onlooker while he deals with rowdy bar guests, having to throw out drunk customers who reached their limit and then some. But this… this was something else. John is still yelling, sure to be disturbing your neighbors earning you yet another noise complaint, possibly the one that gets you evicted from your apartment.
“What guy?”
“The guy that’s going to rip your spine out through your throat if you threaten my girl again.”
The world stills. The noisy streets of Brooklyn fade as you search Bucky’s eyes for any semblance of a joke. His eyes have darkened, latching onto yours with a depth that you’ve never seen in them. He reaches for you, pulling you in between his legs by your belt loop. You can hear the stammering on the other end clearly, John’s never had anyone stand up to him with such sincerity.
“If you’re done being a pussy, I’m a little preoccupied. If you’d like to continue this conversation, you may do so anytime at my bar. Howling Commandos. You can Google it and me in your free time. Right now, I’m on a date and you’re interrupting it and disturbing my girl.” Bucky’s hand snakes around your waist, pressing his chin to your chest while maintaining eye contact with you. “Now, apologize to her.”
He switches the phone to speaker mode, allowing you to hear the weakness invading John’s voice. All the while, Bucky’s eyes never leave yours. Your body melts into him, his warmth something that you didn’t realize you were craving. John stammers on his end of the phone, eking out excuses as to not apologize. Bucky clears his throat once more, the action causing his Adam’s apple to bob against your breasts.
“Apologize, Johnny boy.”
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
Three monotonous beeps echo out into the silent parking lot. Wind whips against your cheeks, igniting a shiver through your body. He shoves your phone into his front pocket before wrapping his other hand around your waist. Bucky shifts again, pressing his forehead into your stomach instead of staring up at you. Your arms come up around his shoulders, burying your face into his soft hair.
“Thank you.”
Bucky says nothing in return, squeezing your middle before pulling back to meet your gaze.
“Let’s go, you can stay at mine.”
He pushes against your hips so he can reposition himself over the bike. You’re quick to stop him, remarking something about him just taking you to a hotel for the night. He cuts you off before you can fully finish your sentence.
“I’m sorry Peanut, but you surely don’t think I’m about to let you spend the night at some sketch hotel by yourself. And I’m certainly not going to let you go back to that apartment with that temperamental skeeze of a husband you have.”
“Let me?” You back up, resting your hand on your now cocked hip.
“Peanut.” Bucky stares up at you, “I didn’t mean it in that way. I’m sorry. I’m only saying that I want you to be safe and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in either of those environments. I would be much for comfortable if you came home with me so that I could protect you.”
You shoulders relax, in the back of your mind, you know that he didn’t mean anything by it. John always sets you on edge, and it’s unfair of you to put those emotions onto Bucky.
“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… John.” Your sentence trails off, no ending really needed because you know that Bucky understands.
“Come on. Get on, Peanut Butter. We aren’t far from my place.”
You mount Bucky’s bike, his left hand immediately going to your thigh, his fingers threading themselves between the rips of your jeans to feel the soft skin of your knee. The ride to Bucky’s apartment is quiet, the rumbling of the motorcycle beneath you is powerful and steady. Every chance he got, Bucky would slip his fingers into the rips of your jeans, aching to be close to you in every way possible. You lean forward, resting your helmeted head against his back while he drives.
If there was one thing that you never would have guessed, it’s that Bucky Barnes would have pale green wallpaper in his apartment. Not just a pale green, he proudly declares that it’s agate green, the color he spent weeks painstakingly debating between that and nurture green. You giggle as you toe your shoes off at the front door, quietly taking in his personal space.
The exposed brick melds with the dark countertops in a way that’s almost soothing. The pendant lights above the island cast a soft glow over the open floor plan. Bucky turns to face you, peeling off his leather jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the door. You catch his eyes, only to be distracted by the wall of bookshelves on the far end of his apartment.
“Oh my god, Bucky I had no idea you were so interested in reading.”
He laughs, shoving his hands in his front pockets while walking behind you as you approach the stacks of books he has scattered throughout his home.
“I’ve always enjoyed reading. When I was deployed there wasn’t much to do other than read. I had my Ma send me all different kinds of books, from new releases to her favorite classics to stuff my little sister was reading in school.” He stands beside you, shoulder to shoulder as you glance up at him. “Guess I never kicked the habit, though there are worse vices that a person could have.”
You hum, refocusing your attention on the books, but only for a second as Bucky reaches his hand out and leads you up the stairs to the lofted bedroom. Bucky’s comforter matches the green walls that sits behind his TV. Not only that, but his pillow cases vary from overly fluffy to soft silks. The mixture of textures and fabrics is almost too much for your brain to comprehend. You’re about to question it when Bucky returns to your line of sight, a dark Henley in one hand and a pair of boxers in the other.
“I don’t have any pajamas for you, but you can wear these.”
He’s almost sheepish as he presents you with the clothes, a light blush casting over his cheeks. It’s so interesting to interact with him. At times, he’s the most suave man you’ve ever met, and at others, it’s like he’s a lovestruck teenager who’s just got their first girlfriend.
You thank him and follow behind him as he leads you to the en-suite bathroom. Just as Bucky begins to explain where everything is, he bends down to the bottom cabinets and retrieves a spare toothbrush.
“Planning for extra company, huh?” You joke while poking him in the side as he stands next to you in the doorway.
Bucky’s tongue peaks out of his mouth, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he stares down at you. His eyes do that thing again, the same thing he did just before he laid out his feelings for you earlier. Your breath catches in your throat, is he leaning closer? Are you inching toward him? What are you doing?
“Bucky,” the tension breaks, a dam of emotions behind held back by your dedication to your marriage. “I feel like I should explain.”
His hands rest on your shoulders, quick to silence your worries. He leans forward, dotting a quick kiss to your forehead. Bucky lingers, the soft press of his lips shoots warm and fuzzy feelings through your bones.
“Tomorrow. You’ve had a long night. We can talk about everything in the morning.”
A weight of anxiety lifts from your shoulders as you watch Bucky begins descend the stairs, lush blankets and pillows in hand. You turn back to his room, allowing yourself to sink into his private space.
You peel back the duvet and sit on the edge of his mattress, unsure if you should fully dive into his being. If you’re quiet enough you can hear Bucky downstairs, shuffling on the couch in an attempt to find a comfortable position.
Your eyeline floats over his bedside table, the lamp atop it casting a pale yellow glow over the entire room. The surface next to you is covered in items that are unequivocally Bucky—a worn copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth, a leather bound journal, the few gold rings that he something adorns his digits with while bartending. His rings clink against each other as your fingers drift over the cold metal.
Among his assorted objects is your phone on his charger. The light pink case is slightly out of place, but not enough to be obnoxious. You smile to yourself while lying back in his sheets.
You really do owe him an explanation. Bucky deserves more than some broken woman who’s in a shitty marriage. He deserves the world and then some. All you can offer is a somewhat clear thought process.
You think on John’s actions today. He really showed you his true colors. You start to wonder if he really cares about you or if just cares about having a wife. If it’s the second one, why does it have to be you?
You flip to the other side, now facing the back wall of windows. Your mind is about as calm as the city right now. New York is never quiet, even this far out in Brooklyn. You’re never safe from the light pollution that constantly blocks out the beauty that is the natural night sky.
It makes you long for your hometown, the wide open spaces with vast fields of nothingness that stretch for miles on end. Maybe it’s time you pay it a visit. It would be nice to escape the hodge podge of a life you’re currently living.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you force yourself to slow your breathing. Distantly you can hear Bucky begin to snore, a low monotonous sound that you cling to. For the first time in months you feel secure. Your muscles decompress, your brow unfurls and you allow yourself to truly relax.
With everything that’s going on, Bucky deserves more. You deserve more, but that can all wait until tomorrow.
Tomorrow. That’s a good thought.
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Wait for you Pt.2 | L.N.
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Lando Norris x reader
Summary: Nothing can stand between true love. But what if said love is taken from one's memory?
Warnings: angst, fluff:3
Word count: ~4.9K
A/N: Hello hello! I have finally got aroud to finishing this piece! Hope ya'll enjoy it <3
Lando could not concentrate, not for more than a sentence before his mind was once again playing you as his favourite movie.
Your smile, your eyes it all felt too good to be true and lord… the kiss. Lando had to physically restrain himself every time his mind went there. All he wanted was to run out of this room full of people talking about plans for the upcoming race and just run to you.
His skin was itchy and on fire from waiting for your touch. Now that you’ve given him a dose, given him hope, he was hooked with anticipation for more.
After the conference everyone dispersed into their own rooms except for Lando who followed Oscar to his driver’s room.
“Oscar you will not believe what happened!” Lando giggled as he closed the door.
Thus began the recollection of the touching moment on the roof top with you.
“- and then I asked her out and she said yes, and even gave me a kiss on my cheek before I entered the conference room! Can you imagine that Oscar?! She kissed me!” excitement was pooling around Lando’s lower lash line.
Oscar had forgotten what a truly happy Lando looked like and no matter how tired he was now, he did not want to be anywhere but right here on the uncomfortably tough sofa, listening to his friend talk about his love, especially because that love was you.
“Well that sounds like good news mate, where are you gonna take her by the way?” Oscar watched the life drain from Lando’s face as the excitement for the rendezvous converted to pure stress of the situation.
“Oh my God?! Where am I going to take her?!” Lando started pacing around the small room in circles making Oscar feel positively dizzy just from following Lando with his eyes.
“HELP ME OSCAR!” The older male pulled at his own hair out of sheer desperation for someone else’s input.
“Well just take her where you’ve taken her before, it’ll help her jog the memory,” Oscar answered calmly, rubbing his eyes. Lando’s pacing really did make him dizzy.
“Wait, that’s actually a really good idea. She loved our first date, she was never tired from talking about it,” Lando‘s eyes sparkled with the memory of your hands wrapping around his every time you told someone about your first date. Those were the moments when Lando understood just how deeply he felt for you and how you loved him just as much.
“Exactly. Everything is gonna work out, I can feel it,” Oscar laid an encouraging hand on his teammates shoulder. If reassurance was what Lando needed, Oscar will be there to provide.
The next few days at the paddock were filled with shy glances and giggles as the date spurred the two to secure their connection. Your laughter was never ending as so were Lando’s bright smiles. It seemed that every sentence Lando could think of sounded like the funniest joke to your ears.
While Oscar explained their upcoming race schedule to Lando, comically unbeknownst to him, Lando’s eyes were trained only on one person, as for all his attention too.
“What do you think about that Lando?” Oscar looked into the eyes of his friend only to find his point of attention trained behind himself rather than at him.
As he turned to find the culprit of Lando’s attention, he found no one else but you perched on a counter, lit up by the golden evening sun. Lando giggled as you waved at him and lifted his hand to wave back at you, both of your blushes ever-growing.
“Oh c’mon man, we’ve been through this!” Oscar’s eyes rolled back into his skull.
Damn these two love birds. As much as Oscar was thrilled for his friends once again being together the shy-giggly faze is just as annoying as it was a year ago.
You winked at Lando and he almost lost his stance.
“Really?” Oscar signs.
“She’s flirting with me!” Lando became defensive clutching his chest.
“Mate she’s literally your girlfriend…”
“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that,” Lando’s smile never left his face as he watched your eyes focus back on the book that lay rested on your thighs.
In that moment something clicked for Lando. Life is truly as good as it can get. All uncertainty has been washed away by hope. It truly felt like you were healing him with every single glance. Perhaps it was just Lando’s imagination but whenever he met your eyes they were yours, he knew those eyes and for the first time in a long time Lando could let himself cry out of happiness when thinking of you. The clouds have dispersed, with each passing day you remembered more and said things that would make Lando stop in his tracks.
Lando no longer needed to look for you, because you were already there…
The over-packed luggage bag fell out of your hands at the sweet sight of a white fluffy bed. Lord knows you wasted no time jumping into the bed after kicking your shoes off at the door.
“Ughhh, this is heaven,” your voice was muffled by numerous pillows, but Lando still heard it clearly.
“I’m gonna set up my sim here, okay?” He asked, unsure if you wished for him to leave or stay. After all sleep was what you favoured over anything.
“Yeah it’s no problem, you know I don’t mind you being around,” you lifted your head slightly and shot him a smile.
“You’re the best!” Lando smiled in excitement and in a few minutes the desk area of the hotel bedroom became a sim racing corner.
“cute,” you admired the man only loud enough for yourself to hear.
It felt like only a couple seconds had passed before Lando was once again calling your name.
“Y/nnnn, are you sleeping?” His eyes met your half lidded ones. Gosh you looked cute, all sleepy… and so kissable.
“I am now,” you yawned the words out, eyes not yet fully open.
“Good, you better not be sleeping, I need you to see me win this,” his concentration in the game never faltered even with you on his mind.
“Don’t worry I’m awake,” you yawned once again making Lando chuckle. “You know, you could just wake me up when you finish and tell me the result?”
“Nooo,” he whined, “I need you to watch me win. Are you watching me?” He turned back for a second just to make sure you were behind him.
And you were. You were sitting there wrapped in a blanket, eyes big and oh so soft. You were there with him and that was all he ever needed.
You climbed out of the bed and stood behind him, hands in his hair and a kiss on his temple to which he let out a satisfactory sigh. ”You’re going to win Lan, I know you can.”
“I’ll only win if you’re by my side, love.” He crossed the finish line and turned around kissing you deeply before you could even congratulate him. His hands were quick to hook under your thighs, your warm skin tickling his fingers. He picked you up effortlessly, nestling the both of you into the bed that had already soaked up the scent of your floral perfume. It’s the same one he gifted you on your last birthday.
Your hands tangled around him, pulling him closer until you breathe the same air. His eyes were glossy, pupils dilated to a point where you could barely see the storm of green and blue. Your fingertips draged across his soft skin and to his silky curls. He was everywhere and you hoped it always stayed that way.
You’re still drunk on quality sleep when the morning light pulled you out of the peaceful slumber. Your hands instinctively reached out to the other side of the bed ghosting over the empty mattress, “Lan?”
A pout formed on your lips as you found the bed empty and void of any and all warmth.
Suddenly your eyes shot open but then again closed up, pain of the bright lighting residing in your retina.
You turned to your left side. Empty bedside. No Lando.
You felt yourself swimming in confusion. Your memories mixing with moments unseen before.
Was I dreaming? Dreaming of Lando in my bed? Quite puzzling indeed. 
But what puzzled you most was that you were in Spain, but Lando was not in your bed.
That revelation, for some unknown reason, did not sit well with you.
Overwhelmed you sat up on the bed, trying so hard to understand why for the love of god you were looking for Lando in your bed.
Why would Lando be here? Why was he in my dream? Was it really a dream?
You got off the bed and started looking for any clues that the dream was not actually a dream but reality.
Although the only thing you found is yourself feeling something for Lando Norris you had not felt before.
Dream or reality? This only served to confuse your heart further.
Your eyes caught the clock on the wall, a clear sign that you should hurry as the slender black arrow was about to meet the number seven.
Today was a free day for the grid. That meant that you were to meet Oscar and Lando in the hotel gym and later head for a complimentary breakfast with the two.
Hanging at the gym with them was not as fun as most imagine. Without their active energy being aimed at making jokes it was easy to get bored since you were not in a mood for a workout.
After walking around for a good five minutes you ran into Alonso.
Ever since you first came to formula 1 Fernando fit right into your life, kind of like a father figure at most times and sometimes as an older and much wiser friend.
For that very reason you were now sat at one of the many leather benches talking the older man’s ear off about everything that had been going left instead of turning out right.
“Every day whenever I’m left alone it just gets so annoying, like I truly have nothing to do, but I have nothing I want to do. Like I’m just trying to sit somewhere and relax but it somehow feels too bland,” a heavy sign exited your lungs making Fernando put down his weights and put all of his attention on you now.
“Take them,” he was clutching a plastic earphone box lightly in his left hand, extending it towards you.
“Don’t you need them?” you lifted your eyes out of curiosity but did not dare take them just yet.
Fernando was quick to brush your question off, “Ech, I don’t like these wireless things, I always loose them.”
Your eyes locked on the case. Do I even like listening to music?
“Don’t worry these are unused, I got them from PR this morning,” he let out a chuckle, unnerved by your silence after being surrounded by your voice for so long.
“Are you sure?” you were uncertain but Fernando thrust the case into your hands and ruffled your hair as you smiled up at the man. “Thank you Fernando.”
“It’s all my pleasure sweetheart, it’s about time you started listening to your music again.”
Fernando walked away before you could inquire him about your taste of music, and how he knew so much about it.
There it was again, that uncomfortable feeling. You felt as if you were behind in class, like everyone knew what was going on and which formula to use for a certain problem, but you did not.
Everyone around you seemed to know things about you before you got to discover them yourself and that did nothing but make you uncomfortable in your own skin.
That is where the spiralling set in.
All of a sudden the world shifted off its natural axes and you were no longer there. Your words seemed to get stuck in your head, your movements too slow and every time you tried to pay attention your mind was engulfed in a thick cloud.
It was all messing you up to further close in on yourself.
Lando noticed. Of course Lando noticed. Even if it was only a week, Lando noticed…
There was one thing Lando actually paid attention to and it was you. But once again his great attraction to you was beginning to pain him, little by little scratching at his heart. With each cold shoulder and weak smile he could feel it, he could feel you moving further from him while he was stationary, just a few steps behind you, nonetheless too far than he’d like to be.
Lando’s eyes drifted around the white ceiling of his driver’s room as he tried to trace his steps back and see what might have caused you to stray from him. Was it something he did? If it was he’d better fix it before it became too late. But what could he have done?
You had the date about three weeks ago, that was fine, great even, and he hadn’t had you so happy and respondent in months. Then there was the free week before Spain which he spent with his family while you went to Australia with Oscar, but you texted and called every single day, most days it was you who initiated the calls and reassured him that he was not keeping you from sleep as the two of you were separated by many, many hours.
Then there was the night you landed in Spain. Lando had waited in the airport for hours, wishing he was the one to take you to the hotel and surprise you with your favourite flowers.
He remembered Spain last year. He could never forget, it was your first time at a race as a couple, the relationship still fresh as a wildflower. Lando was hoping for a win, and he felt he could win with you by his side, like he did the night before on the sim, only because you were there watching him with your soft loving and undeniably sleepy eyes…
He expected to jog your memory with the help of the familiar Spanish scenery however it appeared to blow up right in his face the next day.
He picked you up at the airport and you were happy. Right? Yes. You jumped into his arms, you held his hand and even let a tear escape your eye as you held the flowers close to your chest. On the ride to the hotel you talked so much, excitedly telling him about all kinds of aussie adventures you, Oscar and his girlfriend Lilly got up to. He listened all through them with a pearly smile, even if he had heard the stories before from Oscar, asking you questions while knowing the answers to them only because he knew you’d feel cared for and appreciated if he asked. And to end the short but splendid night you kissed goodnight after he walked you to your room. It was meant to be a thank you for his kindness but the real thank you for him where your eyes.
Your eyes were his weakness since day one.
But the next day your eyes were not your eyes anymore… They were not yours ever since.
Was this it? Is this how life is going to be now? He will work and work to get just a bit of you for you to forget it all the next day.
He had heard about such a thing from doctors how some amnesia patients have clear sky days when they become who they were before but even a slight factor can alter that and not an hour later they can forget all that happened before.
Does this mean you will never remember him?
What if you never love him again…
“Lan get up you muppet we have a race starting in 20,” Oscar yanked the older boy awake from his daydream and watched him return to reality. “Everything okay mate?” he observed the tired eyes of his friend.
“Yeah… let’s go.” Lando trained his gaze away from Oscar and left the room first. As much as he needed to talk about you now, he just couldn’t do it, not to Oscar, not again…
Your fingers mindlessly wrapped around your ring pulling it on and off constantly before your skin started burning, but that didn’t stop your behaviour.
Thanks to your mind running faster than an F1 car you’ve figured out a few things this week.
First. You liked Lando Norris. And that’s great.
But dreaming about him being your boyfriend? Now that’s a bit too much.
Second. You liked music. More than you initially thought you did.
Third. You liked cornflowers. The blue ones.
You didn’t know that before. You couldn’t really think of a flower you liked before…
Fourth. You had no idea who you were.
There it was again, that unshakable feeling out of alignment. Like the whole world had tilted and you were no longer on the same axis as before. Was it only a few degrees off but you felt worlds apart from the days before.
Your heart was racing again, lungs refusing to take in the oxygen, though it was all around. It was easy and natural to breathe, something no one needed to think about to control, it just happened and for some reason you were once again stuck unable to control your own self, just as you were unable to calm your pounding head.
You entered the garage where Oscar and Lando stood listening to one of their engineers explaining something to them animatedly. The earbuds in your ears were almost unnoticeable, even with the melodic tune, until you made eye contact with Lando’s clear blues did the familiar tune follow.
But I knew you,
Dancin' in your Levi's,
Drunk under a streetlight,
I knew you.
All of a sudden it hit you quite literally like a truck full of bricks. And the world completely swung off its axis.
The memories spun as a wind whirl in front of your eyes.
It played like a movie.
Your eyes filled with tears before you could turn away and leave the crowded space. Too confused and much too overwhelmed with what you’ve just remembered.
There was Lando, and he was everywhere. He was holding your hands and he was kissing you and he was sleeping in your bed. But you didn’t understand where all of this came from, when just moments ago you were trying to figure out if you even like the man, now you felt such a tremendous pull towards him, it scared you.
Lando had watched your small smile fade into a look of confusion and your eyes filled with tears. Your last look was it. Eyebrows pulled together, eyes glossy. Something he had not seen in months now. Your whole face was contoured with memories of you two together. And he could see that, he could see it from your eyes, the eyes that recognised him once more, only they were not glistening with love but with salty tears.
She remembered me. She is crying.
Panic ran Lando’s blood cold. He wanted to chase after you but before he could take one step in your direction a firm hand on his shoulder held him back.
Lando looked at the hand before lifting his eyes to meet the concerned eyes of his teammate, “Lando I know what she means to you, but you have a race starting in 5 minutes. We need to get in those cars.”
“But she’s crying Oscar, something is wrong.” Lando’s voice was demanding and rough, if he needed to push Oscar down to get to you he’d do it, no matter how much the thought of hurting his friend displeased him.
Oscar registered the fiery gaze that made home in Lando’s eyes and he did not want to see what followed but he had no thought of letting him go.
“You have to make a choice Lando. It was never going to be easy.”
As much as it hurt Oscar to say those words to his friend, all he wanted was for you and Lando to be together again.
But Oscar saw you this week. And he saw Lando this week. And neither were sights to marvel at.
You were always an extension of Lando and he poured all he had into the girl he loved. But you were different now, and that was changing Lando, although not always in a right way.
By the end of the day if you did not remember loving him and if their labour proved fruitless Lando would have nothing left. No you, no him. For now Lando at least had F1 and Oscar knew that the only thing he could do is help his friend protect his precious job because he had no call in your mind or feelings.
Only a month ago Oscar felt how everything would work out, but maybe working out meant you two finding your happiness apart and not together. Healing separately and moving on from what had passed. As disturbing as that sounded, it looked like the only solution for both of your wellness.
“Boys, cars, now!” a voice boomed, directing them to take their positions.
Oscar and Lando shared one last glance before Lando pulled his helmet back on and settled into his seat.
It’s gonna be a tough race. Oscar thought.
As expected the race was unlike no other this year, 3 crashes, 5 DNF’s all while Lando drove with the concentration of an eagle, his eyes on the road, but your eyes in his mind.
Lando was rethinking everything, he quite literally had the time, almost two hours before he’s allowed out of this car and can finally see you, he needed to be ready for what was to come in the future… or if there was any future for the two of you left.
What if it is the end?
What if you don’t want him anymore?
A couple of tears travelled down his hot cheek and mixed with his sweat. His eyes were burning, his chest was burning but he pushed and pushed himself unafraid to perform a dangerous over-take with the car in front of him. Mere seconds later a loud cheer echoed through his ear.
“P1 LANDO! YOU ARE THE WINNER LANDO!”
“I won?” He repeated while finishing the cool-down lap, complete disbelief soaking his words.
As soon as he stepped out of the car it was all cheering and flashing lights.
I need you to watch me win. Are you watching me? His own voice resonated through his ears, the memory of your eyes before him.
That was the last thread before he broke down crying next to his car.
Everyone cheered even louder. They thought he was facing the high of his life while he felt like rotting in hell.
He needed you to see him when he won. Now he did win, but you were not watching…
He knew you. He knew you so well. When you told him you’d be there, when you kissed his cheek, when you watched the night sky with him, when you held his hand. He knew you’d come back to him. He knew he’d get to hold your hand again and watch you smile all thanks to his wit.
Only he did not know it would be temporary…
Air got caught in Lando’s throat, it was suffocating being encaged within the helmet.
While Lando stood on the podium accepting his award not once did he look down at the crowd before him. Keeping his eyes on the trophy or the other men sharing the podium with him.
But never down, never to the left corner where from the side of his eye he could see that cluster of bright papaya, never to the very front of that gate, never to where you were supposed to be standing.
Because inside he knew that you were not there, but if he never looked back there then there will be no confirmation, so the theoretical possibility that you might just be there was all he could get and he would hold on to it for dear life.
If he never looked down, he could just let himself imagine that you were there, watching him win…
“See boy, you can’t win everything, but when your time comes, you get all that you want. And Lando, you very well deserve this,” it was Fernando tapping the younger boy on the shoulder, expressing his congratulations.
yeah… I won a race but I lost my love.
Sadness encapsulated his heart and the last thing he wanted now was to pretend to celebrate a long awaited win. Before anyone could get their hands on him he disappeared to his driver’s room.
He opened the door and locked it behind himself. He needed to be alone now.
“Lando,” your soft voice greeted him.
“I knew you,” your eyes were ablaze, “I don’t know how or where it came from, but I knew you and I loved you.” You tried your best to calmly express all feelings that came crashing down on you mere hours ago.
“Loved?” Lando breathed under his nose, he was shattered beyond repair as your declaration made him take in a large gulp of air. Lando could feel himself getting mad. This is so fucking unfair.
“You’re so mean.” He slumped down on the couch, his eyes directed away from you.
“What? Lando I’m trying to-“, you stepped closer to him, instantly regretting that decision.
“AND YOU DON‘T THINK I AM?! I’ve been trying for months now, all alone, while you wanted nothing to do with me. You didn’t even know me, while I had to live around you, still in love with you. It’s so unfair, SO FUCKING UNFAIR ALL OF THIS!”, his hands waved with inner rage. He knew he wasn’t mad at you, it was not your fault, but he was mad at something and he needed to let that out. He needed you to finally know how he felt.
“Lando I am sorry, I-“, you tried to interrupt before Lando completely broke.
“IT’S SO UNFAIR THAT YOU WEREN’T THERE, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO WATCH ME. SURE YOU DON’T REMEMBER, BUT I DO, I REMEMBER, YOU PROMISED ME YOU’D WATCH ME WIN! AND YOU DIDN’T! YOU LIED!” With each word his voice became louder and louder, he was letting his emotions out for once, tired of holding them in for the sake of everyone else but himself.
“I know Lando! And I did watch you,” you tried to keep your mind levelled and let him let his frustrations out.
“NO, NO YOU DIDN’T, YOU RAN OUT BEFORE THE RACE COULD EVEN START, Y/N I SAW YOU!”
“I. WATCHED. YOU.” You’re the one to raise your voice now, getting close to his face. You needed to show him that you could hear him.
“We were here in Spain a year ago and you were sim racing before the race, you told me to watch you race, because you wanted me to see you win and you did win. But when we woke up the next day I had caught a cold and could not watch you race out on the circuit. You lost and you were crushed. I know Lando. I was there. And I am here now, only this time I was here too, I watched you race and I watched you win.” Your own voice glazed in assertiveness just to make him listen.
Lando’s eyes were in tears, his hands in tight fists unable to understand how something like this could have happened. All of these emotions crashing down on him, he didn’t know what to do, he did not know how to react, he was lost.
Your gentle touch worked to unwrap his tight grip and relax him before placing his palms on your tear stained cheeks.
You’d show him a way, the way you always had.
“I remember Lando. I remember everything. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry for leaving you alone for so long. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back to you. But we can fix this we can work on this together right?” you pleaded with your eyes, attentively searching his own for an answer.
Lando’s first instinct was to pull you into a crushing hug, breathing you in like you were his oxygen.
Lando finally felt at home. It was and always would be your touch, your presence that could ground him.
“You came back to me. I will do everything to keep you close, Y/n,” He whispered into your neck, the hot air tickling your skin making you giggle.
“You came back,” he held you even tighter and your hands were just as firm grasping him.
“I‘ll never leave you again,” you ran your hands through his soaked curls, letting the memories of your life before take over each one of your cells and fill you, “I’m sorry for taking so long my love,”
“Don’t be.” Lando broke the hug so he could look into your eyes again.
Now he saw his true prize. It was your eyes, your rosy cheeks, your glistening lips. You were back and you still loved him,“ I’d always wait for you.”
^^
Tags: @goldsbitch @cmleitora @mickslover @darleneslane @queenofmanydreams @ujws5
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bitchinbarzal · 3 days
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Blue, White & Orange | M Barzal
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part two of thirteen
You’d called and text multiple times but mat hadn’t even acknowledged your existence since you got out of his car.
You watched the games, wearing the right jersey this time.
Your heart still clenched everytime he was interviewed by her, the jealousy in your stomach wouldn’t go away.
You were hurting without him but hurting more knowing how you’d made him feel. You didn’t want to lose Mat but you couldn’t see him coming back.
Mat on the other hand was so focused on the game. They were leading to playoffs and he couldn’t let this get to him no matter how hurt he was.
He’d seen your calls and texts but he knew it was best to steer clear or he’d say something he regretted, losing you was a guarantee then.
He was hurt, but he loved you.
They clinched. He knew you watched when he saw the orange heart text pop up on his phone.
They were to face the Rangers in round one and Mat wasn’t happy about it. He couldn’t see that jersey without wanting to be sick, his emotions from that night bubbling to the top again.
When playoffs roled around Sydney wasn’t sure where you stood with Mat and was warned not to ask him so she called you.
“Playoff jacket?”
“Syd…” you sighed
“C’mon! You’re still together right?”
“I don’t- I don’t know”
“Nobody else should be wearing his name on their back it’s yours!”
You couldn’t argue with her, she was persistent so you accepted. Still unsure you’d actually be there for the game.
She showed you the finished jacket over FaceTime, his name and number sparkled on the back.
“You’re gonna look amazing! I’ll take it to the rink and you can get it there”
Game one rolled around and you didn’t go, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.
Mat still wasn’t talking to you and you were breaking your own heart thinking about it.
Mat had contempt texting you, asking if you’d be there but he couldn’t do it. He did ask Sydney to get you tickets, to make sure there was space in the family box for you.
You didn’t show up. Not game one, two, three or four where they swept the rangers. You weren’t there.
He looked for you in the stands everytime but he couldn’t see you.
The jacket Syd had made lay over the back of a chair downstairs haunting him everytime he passed it.
When they won everyone decided to go to the bar, they had to celebrate. Mat just wanted to see you. He was tired of not having you here, he needed you.
So he grabbed the jacket and headed for his car only to be accosted by his teammates to join them at the bar. He agreed, one drink.
One drink and then he was going to be knocking your door and winning you back.
You watched the game, sitting in your islanders #13 jersey. You were so proud of him.
Syd text you a picture of him at the bar holding your jacket
‘Come get your man girl… the tension is killing me 😩
So you did, you were going to go get him. Tell him you were sorry and that you made a mistake.
You were still in your jersey walking into the bar, practicing what you were going to say to him under your breath.
Your eyes darted around the bar looking for him, feeling a little insecure in your appearance and attire in that moment.
When the crowd separated you saw him, a smile instantly slapped onto your face only to drop when you saw her standing wearing your jacket.
You watched Mat laughing at something Anders said before he saw you, followed your eyes to her jacket and immediately dropped his beer to the table “No, no, it’s not-“
You stood defeated in the middle of the bar, the sleeves too long on your jersey scrunched in your hands and tears lined your eyes.
“Nothing to worry about, huh?”
Mat was infront of you now “It’s not hers-“
“No Mat, it’s mine and you gave her it! She’s literally wearing you- know what? I can’t do this” you stated, pulling off the jersey you had on and throwing it to the floor before walking out.
He followed you, begging you to listen “Baby please-“
“Don’t!” You screamed in the street “Don’t call me that- you got what you wanted Mathew, you got your revenge well done” and walked off leaving him speechless.
When he walked back into the bar all he could see was his name on the jersey laying on the floor being trampled over, feeling a lot like his heart.
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moon-rivr · 3 days
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so real
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part three of congratulations series masterlist
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem reader
contents: more angst 👹👹, depressive thoughts, use of a vape, drug addiction (rapture)
synopsis: miguel’s boss, tyler stone, offers him an.. alternative route to deal with his grief
author’s note: CAN I TALK MY SHIT AGAIN 🗣️‼️ anyways i’m sure you all knew by now but none of this is 100% canon :3
word count: 6.3k
Church bells echoed through his head time and time again, the relentless sound practically playing on cassette in his head. The sound was accompanied by the sounds of Tempest's screaming, screams of anger and fear combined. Screams that would engrave themselves into his very being, reminding him of his failures.  Why didn't you save me? I trusted you!
He patted the spot where you'd laid to him next to him, finding it empty. That was enough to wake him up from his restless slumber. He scrambled up to his feet, his mouth open to call out for you but nothing came out. All that was running through his head was the worst possible outcome, of finding you seriously injured or possibly even unconscious. The only thing he could do was listen as you called out to him: Miguel. Miguel. Miguel.
"Miguel."
"Miguel," his eyes snapped up open, realizing that was just another dream. He looked down to see that you were laying down next to him, your face grimacing as you wiggled. Oh shock. He'd clung on to you too tightly, practically almost squeezing you against his body. His grip immediately loosened, your body immediately relaxing. The loss of contact was evident even if you'd only moved a couple inches away from him.
His very being craved to be next to you, as selfish as it was. Your comfort was the only thing that he needed now, more than the very oxygen he inhaled.
"I'm sorry about that," he muttered, his voice hoarse from sleep and from all the crying he'd done just a couple hours prior. "It's okay, just go to sleep," you mumbled groggily, still half asleep. You rubbed your eyes, looking over your shoulder at him through half lidded eyes. You'd never seen him look so.. miserable. And yet, you had no idea who he couldn't save. You had no idea how to help, all that you could really do in this position was stay where you were and offer him your presence.
Sleep did not come back to him after that, despite how comfortable your body felt next to him. Every time he shut his eyes, the image of Tempest's rotting corpse came to the forefront of his mind. How no matter how hard he'd tried, he had nothing to account for that in the end. All that he had to account for the amount of effort that he'd put in was the amount of guilt within himself, the amount of blame that he placed upon himself for not doing more. Even if the rational part of his brain tried to convince him that he did the most he could.
He looked over at you, entranced by the small fall and rise of your chest as you slept comfortably next to him. The way your mouth slightly parted to let out a couple snores. Silently admiring all the little things he took for granted in the few times that he had you in his bed. Probably would be the last time that he got to see you in such a vulnerable position. "I love you too, chiquita. It's always been you," he whispered, kissing the top of your head before closing his eyes once more.
He was tempted to pull you back into his chest once he saw you stirring awake, a yawn escaping from your lips. "Morning," he spoke up as he saw you get up from the couch, stretching your arms out. You looked restless, probably from the uncomfortable position you'd been forced in. "Morning," you didn't even bother looking back at him, going over to the kitchen to get started on making a fresh pot of coffee.
Miguel leaned against your kitchen counter, his attention solely focused on every single one of your movements. The coffee pod that you'd chosen to put in the machine- a vanilla espresso. The amount of sugars and creamers that you'd set down on the counter. The slight curve of your body as you leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. The way that you tried to avoid his not so subtle staring, your eyes flickering to all the small surfaces around.
"Why'd you come to me last night?" you decided to bite the bullet and ask the question that'd been rummaging through your brain all night long. For claiming to have nothing 'serious' with you, he was sure comfortable coming to your apartment at wee hours of the night. Not that you discouraged that activity by any means, though. Maybe you were more responsible than you would've liked to admit.
"Because I needed you."
"You can't do this to me. Treat me as if I'm nothing to you and then seek me out when you're at your lowest."
"I never treated you as if you were nothing to me."
"And yet, we were nothing serious? Or are you going to deny saying that?" You were expecting for him to have some kind of comeback to that, but he stared down at his coffee like it was single-handedly the most interesting thing in the world. The silence almost suffocating, you could almost see the gears turning in that big head of his.
"Look I don't know what happened but serio-"
"Tempest.. passed away last night and I couldn't save her. No matter how much I tried to."
Now that had stunned you into staying quiet, an apology at the tip of your tongue. For what, exactly? For making assumptions or to offer your condolences? Both, most likely. But before you even got the chance to open your mouth, he was already speaking again. "The engagement was a farce. She needed access to insurance and she only managed to get that through being with me."
"And you felt as though you couldn't be honest with me? I know that we've slept together and I don't know about you, but I've spent longer than that loving you," you told him, setting your coffee mug down on the kitchen counter. A stupid mug that he'd gotten for you, World's Best Girlfriend Situationship.
"Look Miguel, I get that you're going through a lot but you can't expect for me to be here only when you want me to be around. I think I deserve more than that by this point."
You were so right. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but how could he say that when he'd treated you just the way you described ever since you came back? Even if he said so, he knew that his words wouldn't be enough to convince you otherwise. He stared at you in silently, his face conveying the pain that he wouldn't dare to voice out loud. Don't fall for it. Don't. As much as you wanted to comfort him, as much as a part of you couldn't bear to see him so upset, you needed to put your own needs above his own for once.
"Finish up your coffee and grab your clothes from the drier. I'll be here when you're ready to treat me like I mean something to you, but up until that point, I don't want to see you."
Miguel tried to prolong the couple sips of coffee he had, taking a few drops every two minutes. Anything that would give him the excuse to be around you longer than he should've. "I'm sorry," he spoke up, watching as you paused in cleaning your mug before resuming. "What's the point of saying sorry if you haven't done anything to change it yet?" your words came out so hushed, his ears practically perking up. If you'd noticed that he wasn't finishing up his coffee, you hadn't bothered to say anything just yet.
Miguel lost track of how many times he'd passed the sponge by the mug, lost in his own thought. How is it possible that he lost two of the people he cared about in less than 24 hours? He could practically see his own reflection in the mug by the time he decided to put the sponge down, rinsing the suds away. He walked over to the laundry room, grabbing his clothes before making his way out of your apartment. "Bye," his words were barely audible, unable to look at you or talk to you after how the last exchange had gone.
This time around, Miguel drove with extreme caution. Almost as a way to overcompensate for his rash behavior last night. He didn't even bother slamming his hand against the wheel when a car merged onto his lane without using their turn signal. At least he didn't have to go into work until Monday, leaving him enough time to seep into his self loathing. And to think about the fact that despite the fact he'd dreamed about the day you'd move back to Nueva York to be with you, it was starting to become more and more unattainable.
He was tempted on calling out on work when Monday rolled around, saying that he needed some time to grieve. But all that he'd been doing at home was look up at the ceiling and think about different alternatives. Alternatives where he wasn't a screw up. Alternatives where his efforts actually counted towards something, where he was actually saving people. A different alternative where you didn't hate him, where he was less of an idiot to prove to you just how much you actually meant to him.
Sleep didn't come to him that easily either. He'd spend hours counting sheep and listening to white noise only to find himself groaning into his pillow. Every position proving to be futile in his restless nights, the image of seeing Tempest in that hospital practically tattooed at the back of his eyelids every time he closed them. His eyes burned from how long he’d kept them open, his head pounding as it urged for him to take at least a nap. Not that he would listen.
Awake or not, his life was starting to become a continuous torment. Every day was the same miserable cycle, though he wasn't making any effort to change it either. Maybe he deserved to feel the way he did right now. It's what he told himself anytime that he was starting to feel the numbness get overwhelming. That he didn't deserve to have some relief from this grief. The days blurred onto one another to the point where he couldn't tell the distinction between them until he looked down at his phone to check the date.
Get up. Drink coffee. Eat two bites of an overpriced sandwich he'd buy at Alchemax. Work. Close eyes. Repeat until exhaustion.
Upon grabbing a fresh lab coat from his closet, he caught a glimpse of the suit he was supposed to wear for the wedding. The wedding ceremony that would've happened tomorrow. Instead, it would now be his funeral suit. He pushed the suit to the back of his closet, pulling his dress shirts over it to conceal the fact. Just looking at it had proved to be an eyesore. He grabbed the first pair of socks that he found, not even bothering to check that they were the same pair before putting his shoes on. Spoiler alert: One was bright red and the other one was a dull purple.
He ran a hand through his messy hair, the action doing completely nothing to aid the bird's nest in his hair. Hairs stuck out from every end and there had even accumulated a gloop of dry hair gel on his scalp. He was a mess in every sense of the word. If that was even a strong enough word to describe his current state. He wasn't even sure when he bothered to take more than a five minute shower, maybe a week ago? Though he told himself that a couple days ago so he wasn't truly sure how much time had really passed.
"Puta madre," he grumbled, a couple of the comb's teeth falling from the sheer force that he'd exuded into just trying to run it through a couple strands. Miguel tugged on the comb with a bit more force, though it wouldn't go through no matter how much he wanted it to. He set down the black comb, rummaging through his cabinets to find a new one. He'd be lying if he said that the sight of seeing Tempest's stuff mixed in with his didn't make a couple tears run down his cheeks. From the halfway finished hair products to the new perfume that she was wanting to try out.
After breaking a couple more brushes, Miguel decided to give up on the effort to fix up his appearance. Not that he even needed to put that much effort, much of the interns didn't even bother to put on deodorant before they showed up. He'd completely forgotten about the work meeting that was set up for today, stepping into the room about ten minutes later. The attention of the room went to him immediately, the loud slam of the door behind him doing nothing to aid the situation. He muttered a half ass sorry before going to sit down.
Gloved fingers snapped in front of him, disrupting whatever little train of thought was coursing through his head. Miguel couldn't even bother to hide the irritation in his face as he turned to look at Aaron, raising his eyebrows as he waited for the shorter man to speak. He was almost tempted to laugh at the way that Aaron had to huff out his chest to put on an intimidating facade. Trying so very hard to present the small bit of authority that Tyler Stone had placed upon him. And failing, truthfully.
"Get your head out your ass and listen closely. Mr. Stone can't handle any mistakes in this project," Aaron's voice seemed so far away, so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Nothing that he did mattered, anyways. He couldn't keep the girl. He couldn't save anyone. Aaron's voice faded out into a low hum, a garble of technical nonsense. How the project at hand could put human lives at stake if done incorrectly and of how it could improve lives if it actually worked. Nonsense he's heard time and time again.
He didn't even realize he was dozing off, his body slumped against the rolling chair behind him. "Wake the hell up or you're fired in the next five seconds! Mr. Stone requested to see you in his office," that same damn voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard broke him out of his slumber, a large palm slamming on the desk in front of him. Miguel grumbled as he rubbed his eyes, willing himself to wake up before getting up from his chair. He ignored the small snickers that followed after he departed the room.
Miguel took the opportunity to step into one of the bathrooms, taking the opportunity to look over himself before he appeared in front of Mr. Stone. He didn't need to receive a lecture on unprofessionalism on top of the lecture he was probably going to receive already. Not that he cared all that much, but he wasn't sure just how much more yelling he could take with the steady pounding in his head. Rumors floated around people getting fired for even looking at Mr. Stone in a way that they shouldn't have, his ruling over the company an iron fist.
He splashed some cold water on his face, rubbing his eyes to get rid of the last remnants of sleep that lingered behind. The water did nothing to aid with the redness in his eyes, the sleep deprivation apparent to anyone who would spare a second glance. Luckily enough for him, Mr. Stone couldn't care less if his mental health was deteriorating. He grabbed a bottle of eye drops from his coat pocket, squirting some of the substance into his eyes before making his way over to Mr. Stone's office.
Miguel brought his hand up to the large wooden door, knocking on it twice. He looked up to see the camera hanging above the door now pointed towards his direction, the stare from it lasting for a couple seconds than what was necessary. A loud buzz came through the large doors before they opened to reveal the space that was Mr. Stone's office. If it could even called that. While interns were forced to work downstairs in cubicles with a half-functioning air conditioner, Mr. Stone had a tiger rug placed in the center of the room.
Miguel almost felt bad for getting the floor dirty, his eyes shifting to what else the office had to offer. Large windows that went from the top of the wall down to the floor, presenting a perfect view of the Nueva York skyline. The sunlight coming through the windows reflected onto the gold podiums that he had set up, the sight almost painful to look at. Mr. Stone turned around in the rolling chair he was on in a villainous fashion. Miguel was almost surprised that he didn't have a white cat on his lap to finish up the touch.
"O'Hara, right?" While Aaron tried so hard to exude power he didn't have, all Mr. Stone had to do was speak. He could almost feel the temperature drop a couple degrees from the sheer coldness of his voice. "That's me, sir. I heard you wanted to see me," Miguel spoke up, clearing his throat. He stood at a distance, not making the slightest attempt to move closer unless Mr. Stone asked for him to do so. Mr. Stone stayed quiet for a couple seconds, analyzing him carefully from head to toe before speaking,
"We're testing out a new drug at the facility. It's completely safe for consumption and I believe it's what you need to get over this grieving period."
"Excuse me?" It was the first time that Miguel had heard of an employer actually promoting the usage of drugs, though it was no secret that a majority of Wall Street in Nueva York was high off cocaine just to get through business meetings. He expected Mr. Stone to tell him that it was a test, to see if he would take the bait but all he got in return was more silence from the man. Suddenly, he stood up and dusted off his suit. A suit that probably cost more than his apartment building if he had to guess. "Please, follow me. I have something to show you."
Tyler unlocked a steel door with his ID badge, the temperature inside the room enough to make Miguel shiver underneath the thin white lab coat he had on. He wanted to turn around, tell Tyler that he wasn't interested in this anymore but a green vial was placed in the palm of his hand. "Look, I'm not telling you that you need to take it but just know that we have the resources here to help you," Tyler really was trying to amp up this caring persona up to the max with his soft way of talking.
"Just think about it, okay? You have full access to this center of the facility from now on in case you do end up taking it," Tyler finished up as the two of them stepped out of the room, leaving Miguel with a decision to make. A decision that had he been in the right state of mind wouldn't even be up for debate at all. And yet, here he was actually considering going through with what Mr. Stone had told him. By the time that Miguel came back to the conference office, he found the room void of anything other than the things he left behind. He stuffed the vial deep into his pocket before going to pick up his things.
Miguel held the vial between his thumb and pointer finger, analyzing what he could about the drug. From what he could discern from the bottle, the drug didn't seem too different from over the counter pain prescriptions. But he's seen things over the months, seen the way that Alchemax deliberately failed to mention certain ingredients just to get FDA approval. The way that they put human safety at the bottom of their priority list, funding for research at the top. Of the experiments locked away in the basement begging for some kind of mercy, for the chemicals to stop making every breath impossible.
And yet, with that doubt in his mind, he injected the drug into the first vein that he could find on his arm. The pounding in his head dissipated to a low hum, the pressure from his body relieved. He felt the best he had in days, the exhaustion from his body was something of the past. He felt like he was on top of the world, like he was able to run a marathon and win first place. Everything seemed much easier now, making him even wonder what he was even depressed about. There was truly nothing else that could replicate the blissful feeling inside of him.
Funny to think about how he'd gotten on his brother for having a vape a few years back. A 'Very Juicy Mango Pod' that was on the market for lasting longer than normal vapes. Half the school had been indulging in those substances just to get through the day, something that he hadn't dabbled in and quite frankly would never dabble in. He hated that feeling, the feeling of having no control over his body. Of only being susceptible to that temporary euphoria. The feeling of only having relief with one hit of those things.
"You know that stuff's gonna fuck up your lungs, right?" His tone was condescending, only because he truly did care about Gabriel. He wafted the thick smoke blown at his face, his eyes narrowing slightly upon seeing the stupid grin on Gabriel's face. "That's just a rumor, hermanito. You can't really say anything until you try it out," Gabriel retorted, dangling the small bar in front of him. Miguel took the vape from his hands after what seemed to the forth dangle, hesitantly bringing it to his lips. He inhaled, the smoke traveling down to his lungs immediately.
He coughed, his body immediately rejecting the substance. How anyone liked that stuff was beyond him. He practically tossed it back to Gabriel, the touch of the bar almost enough to disgust him. "Just.. don't get hooked on that stuff, I care about you too much to lose you," Miguel told Gabriel, sitting down next to him. It was one of the couple times where he expressed love for his brother verbally rather than letting his actions do the talking. "I know and I won't, I promise," Gabriel's voice was full of determination, an arm slung around Miguel's shoulders.
The next morning when he woke up to go to school, he found Gabriel's small stash of pods and bars tossed in the depths of trash can. Some of which he'd barely bought at an outrageously high price from a plug. Though when Miguel had asked him about it, Gabriel simply shrugged it off like it was nothing. "I don't want to give you reasons to worry about me. You do that enough as it is," Gabriel assured him, letting him know that he'd done him a favor. "I know it was hard but thank you," Miguel told him, the two going out for lunch after school that day.
The low hit him harder than he could've expected. It hit him when he was at home, watching the news on TV. The reporter was babbling about some robbery that happened on 54th Avenue, but all he could think about was when he would be able to get his next fix of the damned drug. His mouth practically salivated at the idea of having it in his system once more. Within that need however, there also resided a deep feeling of guilt. A guilt that was clawing him from the inside out, yelling at him to stop what he was doing. That Tempest, his mother, Gabriel, and you would all be disappointed in what he was doing.
"Shut up, shut up!" He yelled at nothing in particular, tossing his remote control at the TV with more force than necessary. The TV changed into an array of colors before shifting into black and white, the remote almost cracking the screen upon further inspection. He paced around his living room floor, the pounding in his heart difficult to ignore. Sweat dripped down from his forehead despite the fact that he turned the AC to the lowest he could without freezing to death, his body begging for just one more hit. Just one.
The urge to have more of that small green vial overwhelmed every sense of his being. Just five minutes without the drug made him feel like he was drowning. He thought he felt pathetic before but this was a new low even for him. Sitting down on his bathroom floor, injecting a fresh vial of Rapture just so he wouldn't feel like he was completely losing his mind. It didn't even feel pleasurable as it did the first time, but it did help with bringing back his body to stable levels. It helped him to forget the small voice in his head that was screaming at him to be rational.
The red beaming light from the camera placed on the steel ceilings of the laboratory seemed to mock him every time that he approached the storage room. Despite how many cameras were placed across the laboratory, he couldn't help but feel that this one was zeroing in on every movement he made. On every new vial that he grabbed. Almost as if Mr. Stone was checking up on him, checking to see if he fell for his carefully woven trap. And he did. His pockets were stuffed full of vials, trying to assure that he wouldn't have to go without them.
He was starting to become a brainless zombie. Coming into work with the illusion that he'd be able sneak in a couple vials of Rapture during his lunch break without capturing anyone's attention. Though, rumors had been starting to circulate. Hushed whispers about how the one with the most promise at Alchemax was now a drug addicted fiend. Not that anyone would ever said that to say his face, the whispers died down every time he was in close proximity.
“Hey, have you talked to Miguel recently? He hasn’t been answering my calls and that’s just not like him, y’know?” Gabriel called to ask you around three in the morning. Clearly the brothers had a taste for waking you up at the ass crack of dawn. “No, I haven’t. I haven’t talked to him in like three weeks, I wanna say. Let me know if you hear from him though,” you responded, rubbing your eyes as you tried to stay awake for Gabriel’s sake. “I will, thank you. And please, don’t give up on him. I know he’s an idiot but his heart’s in the right place.”
You looked down at Miguel’s contact information, wondering if you should call him. You did tell him to leave you alone if he wasn’t willing to prove himself to you. And if he hasn’t answered his own brother’s phone calls, then why should he answer yours? After letting the thought seep in, you decided to dial his number. You were hoping for some kind of miracle, that you’d be the one he would make an exception for. “Please leave your message after the beep. BEEP!” Was the only response you received though.
“Hey, I know I said I wasn’t going to talk to you but please call me or Gabriel. Just let us know you’re alive, please. He’s really worried about you. Okay, well I hope you’re taking care of yourself. Bye.”
Calls from Gabriel went unanswered along with the thousand voice messages that he'd left, asking him how he was and expressing concern for him. "Llámame cabron, que estoy preocupado por ti.” I've asked around and no one's heard from you in a couple days. For your sake, I hope you're not dead in a ditch," was what the last message had transcribed to, Gabriel's voice a pitch higher. Usually, Miguel wouldn't have let his brother worry this much about him but he couldn't feign being sober to save his life.
He couldn't take it anymore. The urge that he had to feel that high, even for a couple seconds only to end up feeling like complete crap after he'd taken it. The lows were what got him to get up and inject that poison into his system, the thoughts in his head too much to bear. If he thought that it was bad before the drugs, it was much more worse now. The images of Tempest were much more vivid now, he could practically feel her cold fingers on his skin as she pleaded him for something. He couldn't make out what that something was, it was just an endless string of 'please.'
He was taking the drug more so out of obligation. His body goes cold after a few minutes of sobriety, trembling as his grip on reality starts to waver. The drug offered him shorter periods of relief with every new vial that he inserted into his body, but it offered him some kind of relief. Even if it was just fifteen minutes of letting him forget about the misery that his life was. It wasn't until he looked at his reflection in the mirror that he realized how truly screwed he was, how much he'd been disregarding his own health.
Miguel could hardly recognize the man staring back at him in the mirror. He let out a small gasp when he stuck his hand out, his reflection meeting him halfway. Was this what he had become? His eyes lacked any signs of energy, dark circles ringing underneath. He wasn't even sure when was the last time he managed to sleep more than twenty minutes at a time. His stubble was in patches, a couple splotches of red skin from the scratching he had been doing. He couldn't take looking at this stranger anymore. He punched the mirror out of fury, the pieces shattering below him.
What haunted him the most about looking down at those pieces is that he still saw the reflection of that stranger looking back at him.
After doing some extensive research on all the chemicals that Rapture contained, he came to a conclusion that he already knew at the back of his head. There was no way to break the addiction, not without death involved at least. The drug was unlike any others that he'd seen, the chemical components much higher than some of the hardcore drugs on the market. It changed his genetic makeup to the point where he needed the drug as much as he needed oxygen to breathe. Even slow withdrawals from the drug was a guaranteed death. Every treatment was futile against said drug.
Miguel didn't even want to think about what Mr. Stone was capable of doing if he caught whiff that he was trying to break loose from the viscous cycle he was in. He seemed so eager to get Miguel to take the drug, surely he must've known what effects the drug would take on his body. All the research that he did was on a private network in the safety of his apartment, where he could keep the information safe. He'd come up with one final conclusion, that he needed to change his genetic component back to what it was before getting hooked on Rapture.
Maybe he shouldn't have been so cocky in his own abilities. He really should've done more research on what the dangers of altering his DNA would be. Though, anything would be a relief from the constant nagging in his head for more. More. More. More. The straps on the side of the capsule he was standing in secured him into place, a low hum from the machine next to him indicating that it was ready to start. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, all while hoping for the best and expecting the worst. Though, anything would be better than what he was going through right now.
Aaron truly didn't expect anyone else to be at the lab at this hour, even the workaholics at the lab had their limits. He was there to pick up a couple files that he needed for one of the reports Mr. Stone had asked for, but how could he possibly miss out on this opportunity that just presented to him so perfectly? Even through the green rays of the machine, he could see Miguel O'Hara standing there in his full glory. Attempting not to grimace from the burning sensation coursing through his very veins. Oh, how'd he dreamed of this moment.
All the times Miguel poked fun at him, the times that he'd belittled his work, and all the times that he'd managed to outshine him were the perfect motivation for Aaron to code spider DNA into the system. See how he likes that. The studies on animal DNA altering humans wasn't promising, a 99.999% mortality rate as of yet. He didn't care. Nobody would find out about what he'd done, he knew Mr. Stone would remove all the security footage if it came to that point. He amped up the machine to the max, staring at the capsule eagerly.
Agonizing screams followed soon after Aaron departed from the scene, a traitorous laugh escaping from his throat upon realizing what he'd done. "AARON!" Miguel's yells echoed into the steel hallways, bouncing off the walls though Aaron was less the wiser. It was truthfully the best melody that Aaron had heard in his life, hearing one of the men he hated the most cry out for help without actually receiving any aid. "WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Miguel's voice was raw from the screaming he'd been doing. The machine beeped loudly, indicating that the genetic splicing was now finished.
Miguel stepped out of the chamber, wobbling and stumbling through the laboratory floor before touching what he assumed was a table. He gripped the edges of the table, blinking rapidly to ease the blurriness that clouded his vision. Everything felt odd. His body didn't feel like it belonged to him, it felt like it belonged to some monster. Long claws protruded from his fingers, scratching the table the harder he tried to hold onto. He ran his tongue through his teeth, letting out a small groan upon feeling a sharp sensation on the side.
Fangs..? No, he must be daydreaming. Some after effect of long term exposure to Rapture. And yet, no matter how hard he tried to wake up from this torment, he remained still. Footsteps pattered in the hallways, a reminder that someone else had been witness to this situation. Miguel ran faster than he was ever able to, tackling Aaron onto the ground in a matter of mere seconds. Miguel gripped Aaron's arms above his head, paying no attention to the sound of ripping flesh. All that Miguel knew is that he needed answers and he needed them now.
"What the hell did you put in me?!" The accusation didn't come out the way he expected it to, a lisp in his words. Aaron winced in pain from the prickles that Miguel was inducing with his claws, a self satisfied smirk on his face at seeing what he'd managed to reduce the man to nonetheless. "ANSWER ME!" Miguel's voice boomed through the empty hallways, echoing throughout the dead of night. He swore that the vein throbbing in his forehead was about to pop the second that he saw Aaron laughing.
Miguel tossed Aaron to the side without any regard to where he landed, going back to the lab to look for any hints of what Aaron had coded into the system. He went back to the previous code, seeing that some form of spider DNA had been entered into the system. He shouldn't even be alive right now. Not when all the other people who'd gone through this procedure morphed into a version of the creature before ultimately exploding. His head was spinning with the realization, not even bothering to notice the fact that he didn't need the drug anymore.
He looked down at his phone, his finger hovering above your contact name as he debated on whether or not he should call you. Before he got the chance to make a decision though, police sirens blared loudly out of the building. The sound seemed to rattle his head, his ears all too sensitive to the sound. Miguel got down on his knees, pressing his hands to his ears in hopes that it would alleviate with the pain. It did not. All he could do was hope that the sound would soon go away while he curled up into a ball.
"NYPD! Come outside with your hands up!" A man's voice boomed through a loudspeaker. Miguel looked around, trying to find a way out of the facility. He could hear the boot stomps from the first floor, every possible exit blockaded by the police. So he did the most logical thing he could think of. He jumped out of the window and swung? Wait, what? Sure enough, he looked down at his wrists to see a small pocket shooting out white webs. Though, he really should've been paying more attention to the sights in front of him.
THUMP
He crashed face first into a building, a measly web falling from his wrist next to him.
taglist 🫶🏼: @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @lazyjellyfish300 @pxtched @nympholove @ifiwasaguybrickedup @nixinluv02 @hislastbimbogff @lizaistewdelulu @swiftiegirliepop @1800-get-alife @cl3stevu @mvlanchqly @tomalymme @boringpersonality @laysmt @scaryplanetdestroyer @crimin4llyins4ne @cheerrioeoz @peachey-pie @scaleniusrm @simpinonyouz @lauraolar14 @nediks @ayamaiis @iheartlinds (unsure if y’all still wanted to be tagged again so i just did. but pls lmk if you wanna b removed 🙏🏼)
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cinnamonest · 3 days
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sometimes i think about your posts about the yans who would go for a more insecure darling, and i think about how certain yans would be with a very vain girl; obsessed with her looks, herself, etc. and a very big ego. like, imagine getting her pregnant, and the main reason she’s upset is because she thinks the physical changes that happen during pregnancy will make her ugly.
It would be so much more ironic for darling of certain boys (namely Albedo, Childe, Ayato, or Diluc) though, because like… not only is he not bothered by it, but seeing you so cute and swollen only makes you that much more attractive to him, and yet you don’t listen…
With a vain darling in general, probably the best guys to have would be be Albedo, Venti or Zhongli, because they’re very high-patience and fairly tolerant, while still being socially apt enough to understand your insecurities and concerns/feelings in general, and good enough with words to quell any tantrums and put your worries to rest, not to mention complimenting you to hopefully keep you placated (or, knowing the bastard, occasionally pull a backhanded compliment or subtle line to make you more insecure and manipulate you when it benefits him, so he can then reverse it with reassurance and make you more malleable).
And while it’s comforting to consider who would be a good match, it is far funnier to consider who would be a horrible match in the best way possible. I raise you either:
1) The “doesn’t understand but is trying his best” types like Xiao, Razor or Chongyun — who does not understand why you’re so concerned with this, but he tries his best to reassure you… except he puts his foot in his mouth quite a bit because the comments sometimes come out sounding a bit different than his intentions. Lines such as ‘it doesn’t matter how you look, I like you’ which then has him wide-eyed shrinking back when you start wailing that that means he thinks you look terrible. Or, ‘it doesn’t matter if everyone else thinks that,’ to which he gets confused as to why you start crying because that means he believes everyone does think that… you are very confusing to him and it’s starting to hurt his head, poor thing.
2) The “well-meaning but blunt and dense as hell” Diluc and Alhaitham cases who would not merely put his foot in his mouth, but digs his own grave every time he tries to help. He gets that you’re concerned with looks and all that, but he’s not gonna lie to you or be gentle with your feelings, why would he do that? He’s going to be honest, because you want to look nice, right? Which leads to conversations such as—
“Does this look good on me? :)”
“No”
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miratastic · 3 days
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Feyd cockwarming 💡😈
i have so many thoughts about this.
whenever you’re in a particularly subby or small headspace, you love crawling into feyd’s lap and sinking down onto his thick cock. the stretch makes your brain buzz so nicely, makes you feel so floaty and good. feyd is big in all aspects, big cock, big hands, big legs, big everything. your thighs would perch on top of his, one of his hands wrapping itself possessively around your waist while the other rubs your ass. you’d burrow your head in his neck, sucking the skin there to mark him for everyone to see. feyd is big into marking, he likes bruising and biting your pretty skin, and adores it when you do the same. he’d smirk at how far under you are and how you periodically clench around him. it’s hard for feyd to stop himself from desperately fucking up into you. he gives you enough time to destress and relax whilst impaled on him before he goes completely animalistic.
on the other hand, feyd uses cockwarming as a punishment. say you’ve been bad today; you’ve been ignoring him, not listening, you’re touching up the guards more intimately than you have to. feyd doesn’t have a lot of patience, but when it comes to discipline? he can sit there and punish you for hours on end before he so much so as even thinks of fucking you. his favourite way to do it is to get you completely naked while he still has all his clothes on. it’s a humiliation tactic that works wonderfully on you. feyd would force you to sit on his lap, the real punishment being that you aren’t allowed to face him. he places you with your back to his chest, and pries your legs apart so he can force himself into you. he doesn’t prep you (why would he it’s your punishment) and it fucking hurts. on a good night where he’s spent hours dutifully spreading you open so you can take him somewhat comfortably, it still pinches when he slides in. on a night like this, feyd relishes your pained cries and how your legs jerk in his hold from the intrusion.
“stay still,” he’d hiss at you. if you so much so as clenched a little too hard he’d pull himself out and use his belt on you.
feyd would make you sit on his cock for hours. you’re leaking around him, dripping onto his balls and the bedsheets underneath. you’re crying too, you just want to look at him, want to see him. it feels so detached and isolating not being able to face him. no matter how much you cry or how much you plead and apologise, feyd wouldn’t give in. it would hurt him, to keep you in a position like this for so long, but discipline was discipline and if this was the only way to fix your behaviour then he would do it over and over again.
when he finally thinks you’ve had enough, he’d slip himself out, and you’d gush around nothing. he’s throughly split you open, your hole gaping with your arousal. feyd would pick you off his lap and lay you down on his bed. the second you see him again you start crying relieved tears. he’s rock hard and instead of fucking you like you think he will, he fists his cock over your body until he cums, using you as a literal cumdump.
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lilmashae · 1 day
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hii!! i was thinking about some kinda angsty (?) smut where like, reader and whoever else (i thought about heeseung tbh) are fucking yk, reader is riding him but she’s too tired and just can’t let herself nor heeseung cum. hee would normally tease her and make her work for release but today he can sense that she’s not doing that well so he comforts her and switches positions to fuck her real good 🤗
(if you’re not comfortable with writing this it’s totally okay!! love you and your work :>)
im more than okay with this… i love it 👩🏽‍💻
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you couldn’t stop thinking about it — it didn’t matter if it was five minutes ago or five hours ago: what those girls had said really hurt you. ‘what does he see in her…?’ their words really stuck...
it’s not like you were listening on purpose — maybe they couldn’t tell it was you from the back but the three of them were sitting directly behind you. it's not their faults. you told yourself — if they knew you were there they'd probably stop and maybe they'd apologize... you were only waiting for heeseung to get out of class — being alone made you feel even more self concious... you tried to calm yourself down as maybe they weren't talking about you...
i’ll be there soon babe :)
the text message put you at ease, until you heard what they had to say next. your anxiety shot through the roof hearing another one of the girls open their mouths. ‘no really! i’m glad you said something… heeseung just looks way too good compared to her.’ they could be talking about someone else right — maybe a classmate? you could hear their snickering and mocking laughter. 'maybe she's really smart — helping him pass his classes you know?' there's no way they weren't talking about you. your suspicions were only confirmed hearing another venomous accusation — this time with your name included. 'y/n must have insane luck..! because there's no way he'd actually love someone who looks as... well... like her.' everything felt wrong — your clothes were suddenly uncomfortable and it felt like everyone was watching you — they'd heard them too right? the girls weren't exactly quiet... god this was embarrassing.
'hey baby! sorry i'm late.' heeseung's voice broke your thoughts. the string of weary expressions in your head had burst and melted into nothing upon his arrival. you looked up as your gaze met your boyfriends. he had noticed your nervous features — the way that you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and picked at your cuticles. 'you alright?' you weren't sure if heeseung had heard them but you really hoped not. you'd hate to embarrass him alongside yourself.
choking down the lump in your throat, you forced a smile... 'yeah hee...' you awkwardly smiled with glossed over eyes. 'i'm sure.' he still looked concerned — the grip on his bag seemingly tighter than before. 'here sit!' trying to reassure him you smiled even wider and thankfully it worked.
heeseung moved your bag sitting beside you as you two ate lunch together.
admittedly, throughout the rest of the day you felt a little down... what if those girls were right — was heeseung too good for you? did he actually like you? was he using you..? no heeseung wouldn't do that — you felt so stupid — you felt even stupider later that night as you two sat in his dorm room watching a movie. sure, you said you were fine... but heeseung still thought you were a bit off — you loved this film: usually you'd be giggling and engaging with the screen however tonight you laid unusually still with your head buried in the crook of his neck.
'baby...' worriedly, he rubbed your back, watching as you stared up at him with foggy eyes. 'are you sure you're feeling alright?' fuck... his hand moved to your forehead to check for any symptoms of physical distress. 'yeah baby. i promise.' heeseung's hand cupped your cheek as he lead you into a comforting kiss — a peck which you deepened — trying to distract him, before he could spout out any more questions. as always his lips were soft — they tasted like his chapstick as your tongue grazed the plushy flesh of his mouth.
heeseung returned your sudden embrace, leaning into your mouth as you begin to sit up straddling his lap. you lips collided and melted together as you two continued to make out — mouths exploring the vacancy of one another's.
your boyfriend's hands kneaded at your sides under your shirt as his fingers hooked under your bra unclasping it. the hardened buds of your nipples were now clearly visible through the thin cotton of your shirt... as heeseung hiked your shirt up over your boobs, you gasped as the cold air kissed your warm skin. you mirrored his actions, pulling his shirt over his head — however, the words kept repeating themselves in your head. even now, graced by your beautiful boyfriend's naked body... you were lost in the discomfort of insecurity and guilt.
you knew it'd be better to tell him. heeseung would know exactly what to say to comfort you. but now... now, you didn't want to think. you wanted to forget, and you had a few ideas how to do that. heeseung quickly rid himself of his pants and you of your own.
the friction of the fabrics separating both your sexes dawned over you as a wave of pleasure. it pinched your clit as you could feel the precum leaking through his boxers. 'heeseung...' you whimpered into his mouth as his hands firmly grasped your hips. he knows what you're doing — something is clearly wrong. 'come on, pretty girl, tell me what's the matter...' no matter how hard you tried you couldn't hide from him and you hated it. you broke down into tears. out of the blue, his sweetly flavored chapstick had a slight hint of saltiness as tears poured down your cheeks. 'don't hide from me, baby.' his hands held your own. 'fuck, hee... do you love me? you don't think i'm shitty — or that you're too good for me?'
'what?' his expression dropped. 'no... no, no, no, pretty girl. who said that hm? i love you... love you so much.' heeseung leaned in kissing away your tears as he firmly held you on his lap. 'let me take care of you, baby... please? 'don't ride me tonight — 'want to show you how much i love you.' he whispered. you nodded as the muscle of his biceps engulfed you, before gently lying your body beneath his own. heeseung's arms caged you in as his breathe fanned across your face. 'do you love me?' he asked. 'of course! how could i not... you're —' he interrupted your explanation diving into your lips.
he gently trailed sot kisses down the expanse of your body. 'going to fuck you so good sweetheart...' he kissed you again — and once more — again... 'treat you like a princess...' heeseung aligned his length with your sopping entrance his eyebrows knitted together in a furrow. 'so tight... perfect girl with perfect pussy for me...' your arms flew around his neck feeling his throbbing cockhead slip between your gummy walls. 'shit...' you mumbled into his shoulder as he continued to fuck himself deeper inside of your cunt. 'i'm all in, baby... 'feel good?' he slowly began to move, pumping his cock in and out of your heat. 'ah! heeseung...'
'shhh... it's okay... you're so pretty —prettiest girl alive... my pretty girl... should i mark you up?' he thrust. 'that way everyone knows your mine... let everyone know how much i fucking, love you.' with every snap and roll of his hips, you could feel the veins adorning his shaft prod at your gspot. his tip softly kissed your cervix as he began to pick up his pace.
he had you folded in half — thighs bent into your chest as you moaned and heavily called out his name. 'there you go... say my name again, princess. 'want everyone to hear it — 'want the guys and any bitch giving you shit to be talking about it tomorrow... how well i fuck you and how good you take it.' heeseung's praises went straight to your cunt — slick lathered around the base of his cock and your orgasm neared.
'think i'm going to cum...' you whined. 'yeah? good. go ahead pretty baby... cum all on my cock — want to see it yeah? feel how you clench around me and take everything hee gives you...'
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i never know how to end these >< anyways, i hope you like ittt, hopefully i didn't get too angsty ^^
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playgrl0 · 3 days
Text
loving you / gojo
an: something short nd simple. not proof read🧍‍♂️ i love satoru so so sos o sososos much and i wanna give him nd receive sloppy kisses from him too big fat sigh
! i would really, really appreciate some feedback. it makes me happy and motivates me to keep writing !
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"mmmwaaahhh! mwah, mwah! mmyyygoooddd!" he groans against your lips. satoru's big hands squeeze your cheeks together while he presses his lips onto yours. hard and sloppy kiss after kiss after kiss. "god, you're so adorable! i can't get enough. mwah, mwah!" he mutters through kisses. you can barely understand him since he chooses to speak every time his lips are smooching yours. but it doesn't matter if you understand it or not since he's only talking no himself. he's been doing this for the past few minutes maybe, and you don't mind. you've been together for so long now that you're used to it. it'd be weird if he didn't do it. —
you're both cuddling on your shared bed, wearing comfortable clothes. he's laying halfway on top of you, his hands still squeezing your cheeks together so that your lips are puckered. he finally removes his lips from yours and he stares into your eyes. you look back at him amused and immediately he starts grinning like an idiot. "god, my heart-" he starts and presses another hard kiss to your forehead this time. "-you're too cute for this world!" you laugh. "satowu, pwease! my face huwts!" you try to tell him as best as you can with how he's holding your face. he understands it though and eases his grip a bit, not letting go though. "sorry, can't help myself." he smiles and this time he buries his face in your neck where he starts to gently kiss your skin. your hands find their way into his hair and he lets out a groan. he loves whenever you play with his hair. shortly after he removes his face from your neck and looks at you again, your face still in his hands. satoru swears that pieces of his heart jump out of his chest every time your eyes meet. that a new butterfly is born inside his stomach and flies around like crazy every time you smile back at him. it's been years since you've been together and you still have the same effect on him. —
you let out a small giggle at his dreamy stare, he does look like he's deep in a daydream. once the sound of your giggle hits his ears, he can't help himself anymore. he grumbles something along the lines of "so cute" and "just perfect" to himself, you couldn't really understand. and just a second later, his lips are pressed against yours again. "mwah, mwah, mwah! my perfect girl, my angel. mwah!" you continue giggling, how could you not? he's so sweet and so silly. so in love with you.
satoru removes his lips from yours once again, a string of spit still connecting your lips with his and he chuckles at the sight. your lips are coated in his saliva, which doesn't bother you at all, and he can feel how your face heats up . "hm, yer lips are glossy from my kisses." he grins. you shrug your shoulders and your tongue darts out to lick over your lips, collecting his spit. grinning back at him when his face falls. "don't do that!" he whines. "now i have to do it again!" you roll your eyes at him. "acting as if you weren't gonna do it again anyway. go ahead." he grins again and continues to give you more sloppy kisses. more salvia coating your lips and your chin as well, he's being messy, you don't mind it one bit though. because that's how he shows his love. he loves you, so much, and he's never shy to tell you and show it to you, he knows he may be a bit dramatic in showing his love to you but that's just how satoru gojo is. a dramatic, sweet, man. "mmm'toru, m' fwace." you mumble against his wet lips. he listens and finally removes his hands from your face. "thanks, it started to hurt a bit." you say, massaging your cheeks. satoru pouts and nudges his nose with yours. "didn't mean to hurt ya. sorry baby." you smile and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close to you and you kiss his pout away. "it's okay."
satoru lovingly stares down at you. one of his hands softly stroking your cheek, the other hand is on the pillow above your head, his pointer finger playing with a single strand of your hair and wrapping it around it. "what?" you ask him when his stare gets even more intense and you feel like you might break under it. satoru grins and softly kisses your cheek. "it's just, you're beautiful. i still can't believe you're mine. and i love you so, so much. so much, my baby." "i love you too 'toru." you respond. his smile grows and he quickly gets back to press more sloppy kisses over your face and lips. "mwah, mwah, mwaaahhhhh!!"
and you let him. you happily let him love you the way he wants to, the way it's so typical for satoru gojo.
-
<3 @ playgrl0
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sunnyswide · 1 day
Text
Murderer POLY 141 🔪 x Oblivious Female Reader
NSFW/MDNI (sexual activities and sexual themes)
Instead of military.. Why not just a bunch of fucking murders.
To you, it seemed so odd that they would show up at the most convenient of times. Nonetheless, you were mighty grateful for the help. For the quick fix-up on your car. The multitude of groceries you had. The short-lived stalker you never heard from again. The drunken who suddenly approached you late at dusk, but also got taken care of quite swiftly. The fruitful amount of cash that was hidden under piles of junk in the drawer. They were a bit tinted with red… Chalking that up to “Oh I must have put that there” even though you had no recollection.
But to them, it was all fun and games. Who'd be first caught or who'd be the last one standing?
Gaz was just so kind, inviting you to every opportunity for tea or snack breaks. You’re surprised when he tells you he lives at the complete opposite side of town.
“Thats an hour away Gaz! Isn't it exhausting?”
“Not at all, I have work here.”
He lies theough his teeth but hey? Isn't it all lies around here. As long as your adorable mind doesn't realize.. It won't hurt. Just like the many times he takes you to where he resides, eyes staring at the two of you.
Course you’re scared, but he promises it's because they’re not too keen with visitors. Not realizing the multitude of people don't seem to be glaring at you. But at him.
You don't ask questions and go along with it. Letting him lead you to his apartment that seemed to be barely lived in.. But it doesn't matter after he Fucks those pretty thoughts out of your mind. Making you see stars as he finishes inside of you for the third time.
But Price isn't that open. He keeps the conversation entertaining but reveals absolutely nothing about himself as he listens to you talk.
He loves the expressions you make, your lips pouting when you talk about the scary days you had over the week because of some weird stalker.
“I promise! There is someone following me!”
“Then why don’t you let me take you home”
He walks you home every night the two of you go out. The one day he doesn't, you swear you could hear an extra pair of footsteps. Looking around deliriously you opt for a run instead, going through alleyways and shortcuts. Until you accidentally bump into someone, causing you to trip over your feet.
“Gah! Sorry!”
You look up to see Price! He looked shocked at first but soon composed himself, taking your hand in his.
“Dont be sorry”
He smiles gently, kissing the top of your forehead while you burst into soft sobs. You swear you saw something.. Or someone else behind him. On the floor? Maybe it was your imagination..
He takes you home but you beg him to stay the night.
“Can you stay?..”
He holds you tight, pressing his fingers deeper into your hips. This only leads to an excuse to fuck you on his cock as an “apology” for scaring you. He whispers sweet nothings to you as he overstimulates your dripping cunt, making you cockwarm him even after cumming.
But after meeting Ghost and Soap, the perfect self-proclajmed duo, you couldn’t help but find yourself attracted. They were a mix of dark humor and wholesome dad jokes.
They invite you for a quick drink as friends. Friends that sit too close to each other.. Ghost insisting you sit in the middle as Soap drapes an arm around your waist, pouring you more and more Alcohol you didn’t want to drink.
Sooner or later the “fun” was coming to an end as you try to stand up, toppling over Ghost’s lap. They chuckle at your vulnerable state, taking it up as a reason to carry you back home. Of course this attracting other drunken dudes to come up to them asking them where they think they’re going.
“Cmoonnnn, We can all have a piece of that”
Soap smirks.. He was damn happy they even asked.
“Why not gentlemen”
But you didn't see what happened after as Ghost drove you back to his place with Soap after the quick charade. Soap smelled a bit.. Odd.. His hands covered in a.. Red substance.
“Just wine luv”
A few minutes later you sobered up quite quickly, surprised even though you drank so much. But hey no hangover!
And as a thank you they happily ate you out. Getting Fucked by both of them at once felt.. Ruthless. Your clit brimmed with overstimulation as Simon rubbed circles over it and your mouth forced wide open as Soap shoved his shaft deeper and deeper.
You sobbed quietly into the pillow as Soap rammed his Dick into your sopping cunt, relieved for the pounding to stop until Ghost took his time teasing your entrance. Making you gasp..
“Fu..ck.. Wai-wait”
Begging? Uselsss.
He didn't mind you screaming for him to stop. Overestimation turned into torture for your pussy. Brutilized after just one night, you’d had to come back to them for more right?
But it wasn't much of your choice to come back.
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crvptidgf · 2 days
Text
Obsessed
Mattheo Riddle x Reader
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˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘
obsessed husband!mattheo who never likes being away from you for too long, always getting anxious when you have to be apart from eachother
obsessed husband!mattheo who has your location at all times in order to calm his nerves. he likes knowing where you are and being able to come help you if needs be
obsessed husband!mattheo who is always asking if he can come hang out with you and your wife buddies even though you have repeatedly told him it’s a girl’s night only
obsessed husband!mattheo who’s favorite activity is sitting in, watching a movie, with you under him and his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. it feels like you two are the only people in the world and if he could have it that way he would
obsessed husband!mattheo who had to work on his possessive tendencies when you two got married because he was scared you would leave him. you know he means well but sometimes he takes it too far
obsessed husband!mattheo who will sit between your thighs for hours at a time if it means you get to feel good. he won’t get up until he’s sure you’re satisfied
obsessed husband!mattheo who always needs to be touching you or holding onto you. his favorite is your hand because he gets to play with the wedding band on your finger, knowing that you’re only his and he’s yours
obsessed husband!mattheo who will try not to freak out when you don’t text him throughout the day. he would do anything to make sure you’re safe and well
obsessed husband!mattheo who doesn’t care who it is, he’s fighting whoever dares lay a hand on his precious wife. even if it means taking a beating himself - if it’s for you, he’d do whatever it took
obsessed husband!mattheo who is always thinking of you. he buys you little souvenirs and gifts when he goes out or comes home from work. it can be anything from your favorite chocolates to a lingerie set that he thought you would look good in (but to him you look good in everything)
obsessed husband!mattheo who has already planned renewing your vows one day, hopefully with a mini you as the flower girl/boy
obsessed husband!mattheo who can’t wait to see you carrying your baby. he already knows what the nursery will look like, it’s only a matter of planning the when
obsessed husband!mattheo who finally feels at peace when your healthy child is born. he now knows peace, and knows that you will never leave him now that you have started your family together
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