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arieslost · 7 months

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cinnamon whiskey | ln4

lando norris x fem!writer!reader

summary: you meet a famous race car driver in one of the last places you’d expect— the adirondacks.

word count: 4,578

warnings: drinking, minor injuries (small description of bruising)

masterlist — join my tag list here!

Your editor was going to kill you.

Every day brought you closer to the deadline for your manuscript, and every day you could hardly help yourself out in getting to your self-imposed goal of 1,000 words. It wasn’t a difficult feat; you’d done it before, and you didn’t have anything else to be doing. You had absolutely zero distractions: it was just you, your notebook, and your computer. There was only one problem.

The words just weren’t coming to you, and you’d already gotten a two week extension on the deadline. It felt like all your writing abilities had been rescinded.

“I’m screwed.” You professed to your best friend, falling into a pathetic heap on her couch. You needed a serious pick-me-up after struggling to write a measly paragraph, and she had readily offered a girls night.

“I think you’re being a little dramatic. Scoot over.” She replied, shoving your legs out of the way so she could sit. “Maybe you just need to get out of your house.”

“And go where? I can’t just pack up and take a vacation right now.” You grumbled into the couch cushion.

“Why don’t you go upstate?” She suggested after a moment of silence.

“Upstate?” You repeated.

“Yeah, go to the Adirondacks. My dad owns a house up there, remember? We had a blast the last time we were there.”

You and your best friend had gone up to the Adirondacks when you graduated college, and you always prefaced the retelling of it with, “It was one of the best weeks of my life.” You almost felt silly for not thinking of doing something like that in the first place.

“It might be a good idea… Do you think your dad would be okay with me staying there?”

Your best friend laughed. “Yes, you idiot. He’s let me stay there by myself, he’ll definitely let you.”

A mere 24 hours went by, and you were settled in a cozy cabin in the Adirondacks with the desperate hope of having the rest of your manuscript ready by the end of your stay. Otherwise, you might as well just fire yourself and save your editor some time.

It wasn’t the only cabin in the area– it was more like a very small community made up of six houses built exactly the same. The area was usually used by people with a decent amount of cash lining their pockets, so you were extra grateful to your best friend’s father. He had taken one look at the dejection on your face when your best friend had mentioned her grand idea, and simply handed you the keys with the promise that your stay would be free of charge.

You did feel a little out of place, though– you could have sworn one of your neighbors was in a movie you’d just watched, and another one was just so ridiculously attractive there was no way he wasn’t famous for something. You’d seen him out on his front porch when you arrived, and had to force yourself not to stare or salivate over his bare torso.

The change of scenery around you helped tremendously. At first. You always felt refreshed when you went somewhere new, particularly if it was somewhere you felt more connected to nature. You had gotten into the habit of taking walks to calm yourself when you got frustrated, and having new sights was definitely an exciting prospect for when you inevitably slammed your computer shut and stormed out the door like you just did a few moments ago.

You’ll be the first to admit it: the story just isn’t coming together. Your main character has a goal, a purpose, but she is entirely lacking any kind of driving force to get where she needs to go.

She has no motivation.

You can appreciate irony, but there’s nothing funny about it right now.

The dirt and leaves crunch under your feet as you walk down the first trail that you see. It branches off from the main path that runs between all of the houses: yours, the attractive guy’s, and one other, and then the suspected movie star’s and the other two on the other side. Right now, you just want to see nothing but the path before you, the trees in your peripheral vision, the gentle summer breeze in your hair, and maybe a chipmunk or a squirrel here and there.

But, of course, you can’t even have that. You’re alone with your thoughts for all of two seconds before you hear a crash off to your left that sends a few birds flying. You would have ignored it if not for the groan that immediately followed.

“Um… hello?” You call out, doubling back to try and see just what the hell had happened.

If you were in a horror movie, this would most certainly be your death scene.

“Ah…” It’s definitely a man, and he definitely sounds like he’s in pain.

“Are you okay?” You step off the path, getting closer to where the noise had come from.

That’s where you find him— your insanely attractive neighbor, practically in the fetal position, entirely focused on the camera in his hand. His jaw is clenched, whether in pain or concern for the camera, you don’t know. You just know he has a sharp jawline, long eyelashes, and curly hair.

Ugh, you could cry because he’s so good looking.

He looks up at you, eyes meeting yours, and he has the decency to look embarrassed.

“What the hell just happened to you?”

“I, um… I fell out of that tree.” He confesses, pointing to a branch, not too high up, but now dangling in half.

“And you were in the tree because…” You trail off, gesturing for him to explain further.

“Right, well, I was taking pictures and had an idea for a good one from a higher vantage point, so I climbed the tree. Thought I had a good balance, but—” He winces as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. “I didn’t.”

“No kidding. You’re lucky you didn’t break anything.” You marvel, hands held out in front of you just in case he falls over when he starts standing up.

“I’m not too sure about that.” He huffs out a pained laugh.

“You wouldn’t have been able to stand up so easily if you had, and your wrist and shoulder look fine.” You point out. “I have no doubt that you bruised your side up pretty badly though.”

“Yeah? How would you know?” He leans against the tree he just fell out of, his miraculously unbroken camera hanging from the strap around his neck.

“I’m a writer. I’m like a black hole of useless information.”

“I don’t think it’s useless anymore.” He takes a step forward and his face immediately contorts into a grimace. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Well, you’ve already asked so much of me, but if you really have to, then sure.” You tease, and he laughs again.

“I’m probably going to need some help getting back to the house,” he begins, and then continues after taking in the surprised look on your face. “But you don’t have to. I can just crawl or something. Maybe I’ll get lucky and make it back before nightfall.”

Not just attractive, but funny too? You might as well make the most out of these two weeks and use whatever you can to help you finish that dreaded manuscript. Besides, the only other person you’ve ever met who can hold a torch to your sense of humor is your best friend. This has to be a sign of some sort.

“Alright, but at least tell me your name first.”

His name is Lando, you’ve known him for an hour, and you think you’re in love with him.

Sure, you’re frustrated that he completely ruined the solitude that you craved, but the ice maker in his house is broken and he desperately needs some for the bruise that you know is darkening by the second underneath his t-shirt. So he’s sprawled out on your couch, and you’re in the kitchen collecting ice cubes to wrap up in a hand towel.

“Alright, lift your shirt up,” you instruct, walking into the living room and taking a seat beside him.

“I usually take a girl out before I let her see me half naked.”

“But it’s okay if everyone else sees you out on your porch half naked?”

“You were looking?” He tilts his head down a little and raises his eyebrows. “Liked what you saw, did you?”

You blush. “Just shut up and lift your shirt.”

He hums a little to himself as he pulls his shirt up, revealing the beginnings of a bruise on his tan skin that is already swollen and definitely going to get worse over the next couple of days. It looks like it continues below the waistband of his boxers, but you’re not about to tell him to pull his pants down.

“That’s ugly.”

“I’ve had worse.” He shrugs, biting his lip when you gently rest the makeshift ice pack against his side.

“You have a habit of falling out of trees?”

“I have a habit of being in potentially life-threatening situations. It’s kinda part of my job.” He says it like he’s waiting for you to figure something out, waiting for something to click.

You take a moment to just look at him again. His fluffy curls, his infuriatingly handsome face, his thick neck, his toned stomach. And then something you’ve heard your best friend say a million times echoes in your head.

I bet every F1 driver’s contract has a clause that says they have to be hot in order to get in. I mean, you have Daniel Ricciardo, Charles Leclerc, and don’t even get me started on–

“Oh my God. Lando Norris?” You exclaim, almost jumping up from shock but stopping yourself so you don’t jostle him. “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“I thought you knew!”

You glare at him. “Cocky much?”

“Well, what did you think when I told you my name?” He asks defensively.

“I don’t know, I thought your parents really liked Star Wars or something.”

He scoffs at this and smacks your hand away, holding the ice himself. “That’s real creative.”

“I’m sorry! My best friend is really into Formula One, but the most I’ve seen is bits and pieces of a race. I’ve never seen you, y’know, not in your car.” You feel like your eyes are practically bugging out of your head. “Wow, this is insane.” You knew he was too good looking to not be famous.

“Want me to sign something for you?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you.

“I will punch you right in your bruise.”

He stays for a couple more hours, readily enduring your endless stream of questions that follow your revelation of him being a Formula One driver, only getting a reprieve when the ice melts and you have to go get more.

He compensates for recounting his entire journey to Formula One by asking you his own questions the moment he’s done. You tell him more about how you became a writer– how you got your bachelor’s degree, got out into the world, and realized you had no clue what you wanted to do with your life, so you took a retail job. It paid a dollar above minimum wage, but it was worth it when something you heard a customer say once inspired you to craft a narrative that your editor liked enough to pick it up. She’d taken a gamble on you; you were her fourth client and the book wasn’t finished yet.

“So that’s why I’m out here,” you pause to catch your breath. “I need to have the manuscript done two weeks from yesterday, and I wasn’t getting anything done at home.”

“Needed a change of scenery.” Lando nods, like he can read your mind.

“Exactly.” You say quietly, suddenly feeling a bit self conscious under his intense gaze but refusing to look away.

The energy in the room shifts as the two of you look at each other, and you break the sudden eye contact when you take note of the fact that it’s dark out.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” he breaks the silence, pulling his shirt back down and letting out a quiet groan as he gets up. “I’ll see you tomorrow? There’s no way someone will be able to get up here to fix my ice machine by the morning.”

You blink at him a couple times, still trying to wrap your mind around the fact that you just spent hours talking with Lando Norris, all because he fell out of a tree. You didn’t even offer to make him dinner or anything, and he’s making plans to do this all over again.

You still haven’t spoken, so he waves his hand in front of your face. “Oh! Yeah, of course. Be careful, okay?”

He gives you an obnoxious salute. “I’ll try to survive the 50 steps it takes to get to my place from here.”

You go running for your laptop and start writing as soon as he’s gone.

He’s at your door in the morning, and spends the whole day with you. Then the next, and the next, and the next thing you know, you only have four days left in your best friend’s dad’s house and it feels like you and Lando have known each other your entire lives. He isn’t able to do much in terms of physical activity, and when he trips over a root after insisting he’s fine you make the executive decision to go back to your house.

“Make some room, would you?” You sigh, looking for a place to sit thanks to the fact that he’s taking up the entire couch.

He simply lifts his head up.

“You’re joking, right?”

“I’m in pain. Don’t you want me to be comfortable?” He pouts at you.

“You’re insufferable, and a liar.” All the same, you sit down, and he rests his head in your lap.

He ignores you, eyes closed with a satisfied little smile on his face.

For his antics, you decide to disturb his newfound peace by putting the ice pack directly on his face and laugh when he bats it away.

“That’s just mean,” he whines, pressing his lips together when you put the ice on his bruise.

It’s mostly yellow and green now, like a weird rendition of Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Lando had made a game out of poking it two nights ago that ended just as quickly when he poked himself too hard and blamed you for it when you had been in the middle of telling him not to. After that, he hadn’t touched it, and now it looks a lot better. The ice probably isn’t needed anymore, but you’d prefer to err on the side of caution.

“You’ll live,” you say now, patting the top of his head to distract him from the discomfort.

“The last time I had a bruise this bad was when I crashed in Vegas last year.” He says, blinking up at the ceiling. “Took a while to go away.”

“I think I remember hearing about that. You crashed pretty early, no?”

“Yup. Barely got to race.” The sentences come out very clipped, like he’s still upset about it.

“It was a bad crash, huh?”

“Pretty bad.” You don’t have anything to say in response to that, so you start brushing your fingers through his curls. He relaxes instantaneously.

He almost falls asleep with his head in your lap, and that’s when you can’t take it anymore and have to kick him out. He’s almost to the last step when he stops and turns back, making direct eye contact with you.

“Y’know, it’s too bad you weren’t there when I crashed.” He gives you a soft smile. “You’re pretty good at taking care of me.”

Well, shit.

There’s a bottle of cinnamon whiskey sitting in one of the kitchen cabinets that you’ve been waiting for an excuse to open. You should drink it now when you’re thinking about him, but you decide to wait until you see him again.

You open your laptop and write until you fall asleep.

By the time you let him in the next morning, you’re stumped again. You only slept for a few hours and expected to get right back into your groove the moment you woke up, but when you read over what you wrote last night, your brain just refused to comprehend it. It feels like you’re back to square one, but you can’t be too upset about it when Lando makes his way through the door. He doesn’t mention anything about ice like he usually does, which makes you equally happy and disappointed. Happy that he’s feeling good enough to forego the ice, disappointed because that means that there’s really no reason for him to come over anymore.

But if there’s one thing you can expect from him, it’s his spontaneity.

“We should go out tonight.”

“And where exactly would we be going?” You ask, watching him kick back on the couch like he’s the one that lives here.

“I dunno, just outside, I guess. You like stargazing?”

“I love it.” You reply enthusiastically. “I bet the stars are gorgeous out here. I’ve been cooped up every night, I haven’t had the chance to see them.”

“It’s settled then. Cancel your plans, you’re all mine tonight.”

“I didn’t— never mind.” You silently will away the flush creeping up your neck. “Actually, I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Shoot.”

“How’d those pictures come out? The ones you were trying to take when you fell?” You lean over the back of the couch in order to actually see him as you’re talking to him.

“That was two questions.” He laughs when you smack his shoulder. “I got a couple action shots as I was falling. They’re terrible, but I’m thinking about keeping them for the memories. Fun story for the kids, don’t you think?”

“Sure.” The kids?! You’re definitely breaking out the whiskey tonight. It’s the first (and only) thing you grab when he goes back to his place to get a blanket.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You ask the moment the two of you step onto the trail, and he puts a hand over his heart.

“Your concern for me is adorable.”

“I’m only asking because you almost ate shit last time.” You burst out laughing at the immediate change in his expression.

He ends up leading the way for a mile or two before you reach a clearing that you would’ve discovered had he not fallen out of the tree.

“This is beautiful,” you muse, taking in your surroundings as Lando lays the blanket on the ground.

The sun is just about set, a light breeze passing through; a few different wildflowers are waving throughout the clearing. You look around and can’t see any sign of civilization. While that should make you nervous, since you’re with a guy you’ve only known for less than two weeks, it instead makes you relax. You forget entirely about your computer waiting for you back at the house and busy yourself with getting the top off the whiskey bottle.

“Found it the second day I was here. I’ll have to show you the pictures I got once I upload them all.” Lando says, furrowing his eyebrows as you struggle with your task. “Need some help there?”

“Be my guest,” you hand it over and have to force yourself to remain calm when he pops the top off like it was nothing.

“Ladies first,” he hands it back.

With pleasure, you think to yourself. Maybe getting drunk will help you stop acting like a schoolgirl. You take a generous drink, squeezing your eyes shut and breathing out slowly. “That is strong.”

“Hand it over.” He lets out a low whistle as soon as he swallows and returns it to you. “Wow.”

“I actually had a dream like this once,” you say, wincing at the burn of the whiskey as it slides down your throat. “I was just laying there, staring at the stars, with no worries. It was so peaceful.”

Lando takes the bottle from your outstretched hand. “I don’t dream.”

“What?!” The high pitch of your voice slices through the night. “Are you serious?”

“Yup.” He takes a long sip from the bottle before placing it down in the space between you. “Never have.”

“That’s- that’s crazy.” You shake your head.

“I’d think it’s nicer that way, no?” he counters. “I probably sleep better than you.”

“I mean, I guess. But then you don’t have any crazy dreams to share.”

“You always remember your dreams?”

Now, you blush. You’re not sure why you’re embarrassed. “I, um… I keep a journal.”

Lando’s eyes widen. “No way.”

“I have dreams written down all the way back to 2015.” You confess, reaching for the bottle again.

He starts laughing, like he thinks you’re joking.

“I’m serious!” You exclaim, shoving his shoulder. “In my defense, I’ve actually come up with some ideas from my dreams. Fat lot of good they’re doing for me right now, but…”

Lando hums, eyes skimming over your now crestfallen expression. He passes the bottle back.

“Thanks,” you mumble, tilting the bottle up to your lips.

“I’m sure you’ll find some type of inspiration while we’re out here.”

“I only have two days left, Lan.”

He gestures for you to pass the bottle back, and you do. You watch as he takes a sip, looking from his lips, to his jaw, to his neck, to his Adam’s apple that bobs as he swallows. You’re really going to miss this view. He lets out a quiet hiss. “Damn, that’s strong whiskey.”

“I told you.”

There’s a lull in the conversation, and then he speaks again. “My ice machine got fixed.”

“That’s—”

“Last week.” He cuts you off, doing that stupid thing he does where he stares directly into your eyes.

Your heart is in your throat, and your voice is small when you reply. “Okay…”

“And I was supposed to leave three days ago.”

Now your jaw drops. “Why… Why are you still here?”

“Because you’re still here.” He answers evenly, the alcohol clearly working in his favor. “I initially came here for the same reason as you– needed a change of scenery. It’s summer break right now, and my friend Logan told me it was super nice up here. It is, but then I had my little mishap and… it’s been a lot better since you showed up. So I decided to stay a little longer.”

He’s close to you now, so close you can smell the whiskey on his breath, so you say the only thing you can think to say. “I can’t believe you fell out of a tree.”

“I can’t believe you took care of me this whole time.” He brushes your hair out of your face, and his fingers linger on your cheek.

Your internal giddiness rises when you realize he’s actually about to kiss you. Your stomach is doing Olympic level gymnastics and you don’t trust yourself to speak, so you let the whiskey do it for you: you kiss him first.

You can’t remember the last time you kissed anyone, but the moment he pulls you on top of him you know that you won’t ever forget kissing him.

“Lan…” you break away from him to catch your breath, smoothing his curls back from his forehead. You can just see the glint in his eyes as he stares up at you, and it’s borderline painful knowing that you only get to enjoy this view for two more days.

You don’t remember what you were going to say to him. It’s way too soon for “I love you,” and not the right time to say “I already miss you.” You still want to say both.

Like he can hear your inner turmoil, he silences it by touching his forehead to yours. “Kiss me again, please,” he whispers.

You don’t waste a second in giving him what he wants, wanting nothing more in this moment than to feel his lips against yours again. You’re careful to avoid his side as he lays back on the blanket, keeping a firm grip on your hips so you don’t go anywhere. You try to convey everything you want to say into the kiss: I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you. I know I’m going to miss you. Please don’t let me go.

He holds you closer and gently slips his tongue into your mouth, and you melt into him, knowing the whole while that Lando Norris has effectively ruined all other men for you.

Six Months Later.

Your phone is ringing in the other room as you’re in the middle of recounting the kiss to your best friend for the millionth time.

“Sorry, I’ll be right back,” you apologize. “It might be important.”

Thinking it’s your editor, because who else would call you at this late hour, you don’t look at the caller ID before you answer. “Hi, listen, I wanted to talk to you about—”

“The love interest falls out of a tree, huh?”

Your mouth falls open. “Lando?”

“That would be me. Or should I change my name to Darren?”

You roll your eyes, unable to stop yourself from smiling. “I thought you were never going to call me.”

You’d finished your manuscript the day before you went home. He’d been sleeping right next to you as you wrote the final words, and you should’ve brought it up that morning. Instead, you left your number on his porch the day you left, too deep in overthinking mode to actually face him and properly say goodbye. You truly didn’t expect him to call you after that act of such cowardice, especially after the two of you spent almost the entirety of your last days together at various levels of undress.

“I really wanted to,” he admits. “At least ten different times. I think Oscar might have assaulted me if I chickened out this time.”

“Yeah, because you won’t shut the hell up about her!” A voice in the background exclaims, and you hear something go flying.

“Get out!” Lando snaps, and you can hear Oscar’s laughter fading.

“Sweet of you to subject him to hearing all about me.”

“Come to the race at Silverstone.” He says before you can even finish your sentence. “I’ll pay for the flight, the hotel, everything. Just come.”

You feel like the floor just fell out from under your feet. “Lan—”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” It’s said in a nearly unintelligible whisper, but his tone changes so suddenly you have to sit down.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either.” You confess. “That’s… kind of why I wrote you into my book.”

“Please, come to Silverstone,” he repeats, practically begging. “Come be with me.”

And when he finds you in the crowd after taking the win at his home race, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to yours for everyone to see, you’re immediately taken back to those two weeks you spent in the Adirondacks, where you finally found the inspiration you’d been missing your entire life.

note: this one goes out to my fellow writers who desperately wish their inspiration would fall out of a tree— writer’s block will never defeat us.

this got a little long, so if you’re reading this, thank you thank you thank you.

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are always appreciated <33

beautiful dividers by @/saradika !

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @venusacrossthestars @anathedivine @xfuckoffx @architect-2015 @violetiss3lfish @havaneselover08 @paigeworlds @whatever7justchillin @xoredmoonlightxo @dovieloovie @totowolffstablexoxo @maddie-bell @lalisgs11 @rrrraaaalllluuuu @formulasportworld @madisonbidaddy @anedpev @estherapz-blog @jess-wither @loveyatopluto @athena-artemis-dorian-gray @lou-larcher5 @clearlyabi @fizzpopsnap101 @fluerlaurent @mcmuppet @positiveaspirations @notturlover @crazymofo-96 @chanthereader @apollo-axolotl

#full fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic

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darklordofthesimp · 2 years

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Wrath (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)

Summary: After you risk your life protecting Ghost, the Lieutenant is furious. Angry enough, in fact, to pay you a late-night visit.

Requested by @chippyroh :

#69 Shut up or I'll shut you up.

#71 You’re driving me out of my fucking mind

A/N: Listen here you little shits, I will not be making a part 2 to this and you cannot convince me this time.

Category: Sexual Tension || Angst || Enemies to ? || Hurt/ Comfort

Warnings: Graphic language, Manhandling/Rough-handling, Sexually suggestive themes.

It was meant to be an easy mission but, really, what were you expecting?

You were experienced enough to know that when it was meant to be a breeze, you had to prepare for a fucking hurricane. And as Ghost stormed towards you, his fists clenched and his gaze furious, you knew this was gonna be one hell of a storm.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He didn’t stop until his chest bumped into yours, heaving and hard. His wide shoulders swayed from side to side as the officer sized you up. “Are you fucking stupid?”

You grit your teeth and glared. “I just saved your fucking life, Sir.”

You weren’t much in comparison to the towering figure that Ghost presented, you knew that. Still, you stood as tall as you could manage and set your jaw. You were right to provide him with backup. You were right to have taken out the people on his tail.

You’d done everything right.

So, why was he so fucking angry?

“Don’t start this shit with me, Sunshine,” Ghost hissed, fingers wrapping around your bicep. He pulled you in flush against his body, your armoured plates knocking against his. “That was out of line.”

“Saving your life?” You questioned, bewildered. “Saving your life was out of line, Ghost?”

His eyes narrowed and a deep rumble reverberated in his chest.

“No,” he snapped, leaning back. “Pretending you were anything but a fucking sniper was, though.”

Your breath left your lungs as though you’d been sucker-punched. You searched what little features you could see for an ounce of regret, any softness in his features to show he didn’t mean it- but the kohl on his eyes only highlighted the sharpness of his gaze.

“This isn’t over, Sunshine,” Ghost warned, snatching his hand from your arm. He imparted a glare that had your throat tightening, before he brushed past you roughly. For once, you wished you had never made it home.

______

You were angry at yourself for crying.

It was in your own shower and hidden from the rest of your unit, but you were still upset.

Your life was insane and full of enough sorrow to destroy most, and there were more than enough reasons to justify an emotional break. However, crying over a man? You were ashamed. Embarrassment seared red hot across your chest, it made your blood boil- it made you angry.

Who the fuck did he think he was?

You had done everything right. Price had clapped you on your back upon your return, commending your quick thinking. Ghost had scoffed at that, watching the interaction from the darkest corner of the room.

“Leaving your post is not ‘quick-thinking.’” The words had been a snarl from beneath his bloodied mask.

Price raised a brow as you shifted on your feet furiously. “I saved you on the evac, Sir. There was no fucking post.”

Ghost took a step toward you, his finger pointing at your chest as though he were marking you for death. You were thankful Price stepped in, you were angry but you weren’t stupid. You didn’t want to go toe-to-toe with the grim reaper himself but you would to defend your actions.

“How about you both hit the showers and cool off. Good job on today,” he gave the two of you a pointed look, “the both of you.”

You said nothing, only returning Ghost’s glare vehemently before storming off.

Your clothes felt too soft on your freshly scrubbed skin. It always felt like that after a mission; everything smelt too good, felt too good and sounded too quiet. It would take you a couple of hours to adjust, but your blood burned at your surroundings.

You were already overstimulated and now you were uncomfortable.

Fuck you, Simon Riley, you ingrateful twat.

You wanted to find him and shake some sense into him. You wanted a fucking thank you. You wanted his recognition, his approval and you seethed at your desire to feel accepted by him.

You dried your hair roughly with the towel, your frustrations translating into your menial tasks. Angrily shower, angrily dry off, angrily get dressed- you were fucking furious and you couldn’t get past it.

Bang, bang, bang.

You gasped, dropping the towel as someone battered against your door. It shook on the hinges under the pressure, and you stood frozen for a long moment. It was late, there was no reason for anyone to be visiting.

Everybody from the 141 was out and about, you and Ghost had returned a day earlier than expected.

You frowned as they knocked again with the flat part of their fist, the dull thuds picking up in volume. You scooped the towel from the floor, throwing it over the chair in the corner.

“Coming,” you shouted before they could go for a third round. You worried the frame wouldn’t hold up much longer. No sooner than you had twisted the handle, the door swung open. You leapt out of the way, eyes wide as a towering figure stepped through the threshold, slamming the door shut behind them.

The lock engaging behind him sounded like a death knell.

“Sir-“ you rasped, stumbling backward as he approached you.

“Cut that shit out,” Ghost snapped, “you know my fucking name.”

Fuck.

You stared up at him with wide eyes, as you continued back into the room. He was furious, just as heated as he had been when he’d gotten back from the mission. The man had clearly showered and changed, standing before you in a hoodie and balaclava.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You glared at him, heart leaping into your throat as your back finally hit the wall. Ghost’s eyes slid to each side of you, marking how you were trapped between your own furniture.

“You know what you did today, Sunshine,” he said heatedly, “everyone can congratulate you about it as much as they want but you listen to me. Never do that again.”

You sneered, leaning forward. Ghost inclined his head, meeting you halfway as your noses nearly brushed. “I saved your life within the parameters of the mission and I’ll do it again and again if I fucking have to.”

“You were almost killed!” Ghost’s finger rose to press into your chest harshly. “Almost had a fucking bullet put between your eyes.”

“But I didn’t! Had I not stepped in you would have been a fucking pin cushion, Simon!”

You were forced back into the wall as he smacked an open palm into the plaster beside your head. You jumped at the sound by your ear, your lip trembling beneath his gaze. You could feel the heat emanating from his body in waves, he was fucking burning.

“What?” You whispered, your mouth dry all of a sudden. “You gonna fuckin’ hit me, Riley? You gonna hit me for doing my job?”

“Of course not, you idiot.” He snapped, leaning back. Ghost’s eyes narrowed as his hand slid from the wall by your head, resting at his side.

“Why are you here then? Barging into my room, locking the door behind you, putting me against the wall,” you listed, your voice low and urgent as you glared at him. Your chest heaved against his as you raced to catch your breath. “You’re either here to fuck me or fight me and we both fucking know that you hate my guts, Riley. So, get to it and get the fuck out.”

“Shut the fuck up, Sunshine,” Ghost rasped, shifting on his feet. “You deserve to get your shit rocked for the way you acted out there.”

You searched his gaze, his eyes the colour of a stormy ocean as he glared right back at you. “You don’t even know what you’re doing here,” you snarled, leaning forward once more. This time, Ghost didn’t challenge you. “You don’t think you deserve to be saved, L.T?”

“Shut up,” he snapped.

“Your life is worth more than mine, Simon,” you growled, poking a finger into his chest. “You’re my superior, it’s my job to protect you.”

“Then fucking listen when I say shut up, or I’ll shut you up.”

“Sniper or not, if it ever came down to me or you- it’s my fucking job to die for you-“

Your back slammed against the wall, breath leaving your body at the impact. You were disoriented for a short moment, vision hazy as you tried to regain your bearings. His body was pressed against yours, his hands gripping your shoulders so tight you knew you’d be bruised.

You couldn’t think, you couldn’t anticipate his next move. Not when he gripped your jaw, half his fingers on your face and the others wrapped against your neck. He leaned down and you flinched, opening your mouth to gasp.

He wasn’t going to hit you.

Instead, Ghost kissed you.

You don’t know when he had rolled his mask upward, but his mouth was hot and urgent against yours, groaning when he swallowed your gasp before it could come to fruition. He tasted sweet on your tongue and poisonous to your mind, drowning all your inhibitions in his touch. You whimpered against him and a wicked smile curved his lips upward.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. Your hands gripped his shirt tightly as his free hand moved to tangle itself in your damp hair, your dripping strands locked tightly between his fingers.

When he pulled away you were dizzy, your head falling back to rest against the wall. Your chest heaved as your heart pounded against your ribs, demanding to be freed.

There was nothing but silence for a long moment, the space between you both filled with his ragged breathing and your shaky gasps. You were so close you could taste him, his forehead pressed against yours and his eyes squeezed shut.

“You’re driving me out of my fucking mind, Sunshine.” Ghost rasped finally, his voice throaty and strained. “You just don’t fucking listen.”

You swallowed thickly, eyes trained on the beast before you. You’d watched this man tear people apart with his bare hands. You’d seen him take bullets to the chest, seen him snap necks and tear limbs.

But those fingers that had wreaked so much havoc rested on your throat softly, now. So gentle, as though he thought you would crumble beneath him if he squeezed.

But he wanted to grip tighter, and you knew it. You could tell by the twitch of his fingers, by the clench of his jaw.

“I can be taught, Sir,” your voice was barely a whisper but Ghost’s eyes snapped open as though you’d yelled at him. He watched you, like a predator observing its prey. You wondered if he thought he’d misheard you, maybe he was praying that he hadn’t.

When he leaned in close, your body shivered against his as adrenaline spiked your system.

“I’ll fuckin’ teach you to listen, Sunshine,” he murmured finally, fingers tightening against your skin. “Don’t you worry.”

Maybe he didn’t hate you, after all.

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod mw2 ghost #ghost x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 #modern warfare 2 #call of duty mw2 #call of duty x reader #call of duty #task force 141

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ilovehugslikealotalot · 3 months

Text

This is Her Trying

sum: she sold out every value she holds dear, even a person. That happens to be you. So, one night after Voit’s little game, she speeds to your apartment in hopes you’ll still want her.

(is there a lot of music references? Yes.)

WARNING: BIG ANGSTY, smoking, some fluff?

Emily saw this coming, with the way everything was happening. The BAU hadn’t taken up a case they couldn’t solve, it just seems that now they’ve met their match. Emily didn’t want it to be true, no, she just couldn’t accept that. She was too prideful to give up.

That also meant doing everything in her power to solve this case, even if it meant pushing the boundaries of the law. She hated that she even considered doing it, so why do it at all? That was a question she asked herself often. Sometimes she sat in her chair wondering if Hotch would be disappointed in her. Or if he would tell her that she ‘needn’t worry’ even though she should.

In the midst of all this ‘Gold Star’ business happening, she was also pushing you away. Not noticing the hurt facial expression you made at her clearly not wanting your presence. She pushed you away so much that she had forgotten how much peace you’d bring her. Even Rossi had warned her to go home but she never did listen, she did what she thought was best. But sometimes she couldn’t think for herself.

—

“Shouldn’t you head home to see the Mrs?” Rossi asked, driving them back after Emily had gotten arrested. The truth was, she wanted to go home, she was just too scared that you too would be disappointed in her, and she’d rather not have the person she loved the most think ill of her. “She knows I’m out, it’s fine..” The silver-haired woman grumbled, picking at her thumb nail again. Someday she’d get over the whole thumb thing but now was not the time. All that she was focused on was Brian Garrity being on the top of her list to be killed off if she ever did spiral into madness; which she was already on the brink of.

Dave looked at her with this face, it was his ‘I know you better than you think, please don’t lie to me right now’ face. Emily huffed, groaning as she flopped her head into her hands. “It’s been almost a week and a half, Emily. A hello or hug would suffice” He tutted, even after all these years he still had to teach her fatherly advice.

“She’ll survive, Dave, she’s not going anywhere” Emily seethed, her emotions slightly breaking loose, the Italian took note of her behavior. As he pulled back into the parking lot, he stopped the engine, turning to look at her with a soft expression.

“If I’ve learned anything from my marriages is, never make them wait for you. Because the hardest feeling is choosing whether to wait or give up” He says, exiting the car first to let Emily think.

—

The Unit Chief sat on the rooftop again, the cigarette she was smoking, balanced between her fingers. She only smoked when she was really stressed, that seemed to be almost every day now. You had told her to stop smoking but, old habits die hard.

Ever since that call she had about being on restricted duty she felt like she was completely under the water, she couldn’t breathe. The feeling on being dragged down over and over again was starting to get to her. This definitely wasn’t her first rodeo but it was starting to feel like her last. She kept telling herself to keep pushing and they’d solve this but maybe, for once, they’ve gotten a case they won’t figure out.

The BAU was crumbling around them, the public was already trampling on the name. But if they didn’t figure this out, what was the point of anything? What was the point of all this work if she couldn’t even save herself?

How could she protect her team when her choices were the ones hurting them? She’d been dying inside since Bailey’s death. She couldn’t give up now, she had to figure this out so he didn’t die in vain. But she wanted to give up, it was so much easier to lay down and die.

This isn’t how she imagined she’d end up. A broken marriage, at least she thought so, a broken team, a broken case, everything was tumbling down and she didn’t have the energy to build them back up anymore. She always wondered how some people could die with so much happiness accepting that they didn’t do everything they wanted to. That was one of the qualities that made you fall for her.

She didn’t stop till she got what she wanted. That’s how you agreed to go on one date with her. She was insistent that she was the one for you. At first you didn’t want to, not wanting to be with someone so ambitious since it could end badly, later she showed you that you were the only one she wanted.

Letting out a shaking breath, Emily looked below, the who-ing of the owls seemed to be her only company that night. The stars were shining above her, she was jealous of them. How could they live so peacefully without worry. They were taunting her with their beauty.

Almost like the first time you and her met. She smiled at the memory, her time of youth escaped her but she never seemed to forget it.

You were one of Garcia‘s friends, she met you during one of her baking lessons, and got to know you during one of her cooking lessons. You were skilled in both, your nimble fingers kneading the dough, your hands holding the sharp knife as you made precise cuts on the vegetables.

Emily could’ve never been prepared for the day you’d given Penelope a visit at work. She practically choked on her coffee the moment you walked in. You were stunning, your eyes soft like the morning rain, your face free from blemishes and impurities, even your hands looked extremely agile. Your presence alone cast an ethereal radiance around the room. “Hi, I’m Y/n Y/l/n, it’s nice to meet you…?”

Your brow arched, signaling her to introduce herself, Emily quickly stumbled to her feet with a goofy smile. She was enchanted by your shining grin. Internally, she was panicking so bad she couldn’t even think about what comes out of her mouth next, she was too busy staring at your tits.

“Prentits, Emily” she said a little too confidently, she slapped a hand over her mouth as Morgan barrel rolled on the floor in laughter. Rossi, JJ, and Penelope were snickering in the background. Hotch and Reid stood with shocked expressions, for once, Aaron had cracked a smile.

”I’m sorry! I meant Emily Prentiss, it’s nice to meet you as well” her voice got more silent with each word, the red hue over taking her face. You laughed, “it’s okay, Emily,” you leaned into her ear, “but next time just ask to look at them.”

Emily snorted to herself, still looking into the dark nothingness below her. A soft chuckle escaped her, even the darkness seemed more peaceful than whatever she had going on. In those few minutes that she had stared into the oblivion, she realized, it wasn’t too late to fix things. At least with you anyway, she just hoped that you’d still want her after everything she had put you through.

The guilt of leaving you alone for so long clawed at her. As she now hurried down the halls, she thought of you. That smile that could make her melt, the laugh that could infect anybody, and those arms that held her close when no one understood her.

Even in the car, the first thing that played was your favorite song. She slammed her fist against the console, the pain was agonizing but that was the least of her problems. Her fingers gripped around the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white and cramped. As she speeded home, she realized that she dearly missed your lips. Your soft, delicate, and loving lips. Even the first time the both of you had said you loved each other, she knew that you were gonna kiss her in a way that was gonna screw her up forever.

At the door of your shared house, she felt a sinking feeling in her chest, her hands turned clammy. It was like she was sent back to when she was ask you out on a date again. Except this time she was asking for your forgiveness.

She brought out her house keys, unlocked the door, and stepped in. The inside was still dimly lit so she knew you were awake, probably staying up late again. “Baby? I’m home!” Emily called out, shutting the door behind her, making sure to lock it before venturing deeper into the home. She heard shuffling from upstairs, it stopped for a moment before the sound of your footsteps made their way down. She was nervous, the smell of smoke on her clothes. It stood out from the scent of the rest of the house.

It smelt of you and your soft smelling vanilla perfume. You smiled seeing her, though the emotions in you remained conflicted. “Em, you’re home, I thought you were gonna be working late again” You chuckled lightly, nothing was funny. She messed up and you knew it, she knew it. So, why couldn’t you just go ahead and scream your feelings out. That’s what you wanted to do days ago, but not now that you see her face…you don’t feel so angry anymore.

“No, I needed to come home. I needed to see you, I’m-” Emily abruptly stopped her sentence to swallow the sound of her breaking voice, she never minded being emotional in front of you. Now, she couldn’t bear to cry in front of you. She felt she didn’t deserve to, you’re the victim here, after all. It was selfish to take that away from you. She was selfish. That’s all she had been for weeks now.

“I’m going insane, y/n. I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, I’m not alright.” She admitted it, she was scared and confused. She felt like some little kid in the corner after doing something bad and not knowing it was. She didn’t know how to cope with any of this. It was too big to do alone. She couldn’t ask you to help her, not when she’s already taken so much from you.

As Emily’s eyes began to sting, the tears pooling. Yet, she didn’t let them fall. She couldn’t, it wasn’t right. “You smell like smoke again, what happened this time?” You asked, brushing past her and walking into the kitchen. You fixed Emily a glass of cold water, “I messed up some case, I’m on restricted duty. The BAU is Dave’s now. I don’t know what I’m gonna do.” She said through a shaky sigh, leaning on the kitchen island, the marble cold to the touch. You were slightly shocked that she would actually tell you, most of the time she wouldn’t tell you anything. You understood that even knowing a little bit could endanger you both so you never pressed. “Have you eaten?”

Emily crossed her arms, sniffling and looking at her with a blank expression. You knew that look, she was trying to profile you. “Emily, if you’re trying to profile me, it’s not gonna work.” You said sternly, getting the ingredients out for beef and broccoli, one of her favorites.

“Okay, I’m sorry…” she replied, biting her lip. “No, I haven’t” she added after a moment of silence. You smiled to yourself, “Good, I haven’t had dinner yet”

The silence was oddly comfortable, it gave Emily a sense of false comfort. She watched you cook as she idly played with her fingers. You could’ve called it a night ages ago and gone to bed not talking to her at all. Instead, you chose to stay and make food. You always stayed silent when you were mad, you came from a home with screaming being the norm. You hated yelling at someone out of anger, you hated it with your heart and soul. Even now if someone yells at you in anger, the tears will pool and won’t stop streaming down your face. Your breathing turns shallow and the tightness in your chest the least of your concerns.

As you finished cooking the food, the steam drifted into the air, eventually filling up the whole kitchen. Both of you quickly ate the food, silently glancing at each ofher when the other ‘wasn’t’ looking. Emily didn’t know what to say, and you didn’t want to say anything.

The older woman went upstairs to change, and hopefully get a shower. It had been a few days since she’s had a good shower. One where she felt relaxed and fresh. You washed the dishes, humming to yourself as you thought about the situiation you were in. You wanted so badly to be angry with her but, there was something that kept you from feeling anything about what was happening. Your face would contort into an expression of anger but you didn’t feel it.

You completed the rest of the cleaning and headed upstairs, maybe you’d be able to get a good sleep tonight. You always slept best with Emily in bed with you, she just gave you a sense of comfort that no one else could give you.

Already in some pjs, you brushed your teeth and washed your face. With a heavy sigh, you pulled your body up to sit on the counter. You had grabbed your phone, scrolling on social media as you flossed with a floss pick. You heard the shower stop but you didn’t look up, too interested in a News article you read. It was an article about ‘Gold Star’. A case Emily was on, he was clearly dangerous and had already killed the spouse of one of his latest victims who was also a cop. That must’ve been why she’s been down at the office, at least, that’s what you heard from Pen.

“Damn it…” Emily muttered, pulling a silk robe over her thin pjs. Her hair was soaking wet, and her face free of makeup, she was looking for something. “Have you seen my towel?” She asked, looking at the rack then back inside the shower. You looked down and saw you were sitting on it, lifting a thigh, you grabbed it and handed it to her.

She smiled at you, drying her silver locks with the towel. Walking over to the sink, she began doing her skincare routine. You stared at her, a blank expression on your face, she looked so focused.

You felt the urge to reach out and touch her face when she finished, she looked like a supermodel in this light. I’m any light actually, she was a timeless beauty you couldn’t get enough of. That was when you felt it, the subtle shake of your hands, the sting of your eyes, the flips of your stomach, the drowning feeling, and the way you bit the inside of your cheek.

Emily looked at herself in the mirror before looking over at you with concern, your eyes filled with hurt. She hummed softly, placing a hand on yours, squeezing it as a way to ground you. “I love you, Emily Prentiss…so much that you piss me off,” You said with a hushed tone, as if you’d be scolded for speaking normally.

“I love you more, my precious girl” Emily kissed each of your knuckles, kissing up your arm as she moved to slip herself in between your legs. She eventually got up to kiss your lips, it was quick, a big dose of comfort, for Emily at least.

“Don’t say things that aren’t true…” You insisted, placing your hands on her shoulders, the robe damp from her wet hair. “You left me, for almost a whole week and a half with minimal to no contact, you didn’t even check in with me so I knew you were alive and breathing.”

Emily looked down in shame, she wished to take it all back. “I had to hold on to the hope that you were okay, and I had to get updates from the team, who you never seem to interact with anyway.” You sniffled, toying with her hair. “I know about this whole ‘Gold Star’ thing. The information went public, most of it anyway. So, please tell me what’s bothering you. Please…” You admitted, holding her face so she would look at you.

“Baby, Gold Star…he’s a dangerous man, after what happened with Don Bertoli” she paused, wiping her tears away, refusing to let them fall. She’s been doing that often now, you noticed since she was always comfortable crying around you. “I couldn’t handle you living in fear, I couldn’t handle us living in fear. A part of it was because I was so focused on this case, I hardly thought about anything else other than the case, and you. I know that sounds weird but, every decision I made was made because I thought I could protect you.” She kissed your palm, looking at you with the same adoration and love she had been for years, “If Don, this big muscular man, can’t stop him from killing his wife. How can I stop him?” She sobbed, hugging you close.

“Ever since this case even started, I changed so much. I hate it. I let a serial killer out of his cage to work among profilers like he meant something. I kept a secret from JJ that I shouldn’t have, I ruled over my team like a tyrant instead of working with them. I’m…turning into my mother, just like I thought I would. But the only question I have is…why haven’t you left me yet?” Emily sniffled, tears stains on your sleep attire. You pulled away from the hug and held her head, wiping away the tears with your thumbs.

She looked so fragile, like could crack of you touched her. You rarely saw her break, Emily was always the strong one even in the relationship. She took pride in opening jars, carrying bags, doing any sort of lifting. She also compartmentalized like her life depended on it because it kind of did.

”You are not going to be like your mother, you are my wonderful, amazing, ambitious, smart, hilarious, stunning, annoying wife. You’re my everything in one and I love you for it. I haven’t left you because I made a very important promise to be yours forever. I intend to keep that promise, no matter what. Also, last time I checked, you have the most awesome team. So, if you fess up and take responsibility, they’ll accept you. Remember that you have to earn that trust back but, I know you care.” Emily let out a choked sob, she loved you more than anything. What did she do to deserve you?

“When you were gone that long, I didn’t mind that much. Until you stopped texting me back, I didn’t hear from you for days. I panicked, thinking you were mad and I spiraled, every possible out come in my head played out beside for this” You said, tucking a piece of damp hair behind her ear.

“What I mean is, I’m not going to tell you that this was okay, what I am gonna tell you is that I love you despite what happened.” You pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead, she was hurting, you could tell from her face and mannerisms. You felt like you had spent a whole lifetime memorizing everything about her. Sometimes, it scared you. You knew things about her that even her team didn’t know, for you knew they’d never know.

With that, Emily burst into tears, hugging you tightly, pulling you as close to her as she could.

You’ve missed her dearly, nothing in existence or nonexistent could keep you from loving her. You feel every emotion at once yet none could rival the pure love you felt for the woman. She’s gone through hell & earth to have you. Now, you were ready to do the same for her.

She’s saved you from a maniac serial killer once, the least you could do was be here when you needed her. You knew she’d return the favor, you preferred to have her be alright before returning anything. After all, you taught middle schoolers for a living, you had your moments but thankfully there was never anything much.

“I’m sorry, so, so sorry” She sobbed, her head buried in between the crevice between your neck and shoulder. Her body slotted so perfectly with yours that you were convinced she was made for you. “I forgive you, always”

You felt her arms tighten around you, she sniffled looking up into your eyes. Pressing a kiss to your lips, she played with your hair, twirling it between her fingers.

She didn’t know what was waiting for her in the future, she was unsure of a lot of things. One thing was certain, that you were hers, and she was yours. She’d find a way to cross realities if it meant being with you.

As the night went on, both felt as though they could stay their forever. Intertwined. Sewn together. Forevermore.

—————

UHM. THIS WAS IN MY DRAFTS FOR A WHILE.

This is a nice appetizer for all the fics I’m about to serve to you guysssss. I hope you enjoyed restricted duty Emily :)

#open requests #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #criminal minds #cm #david rossi #penelope garcia #derek morgan #i love her

355 notes · View notes

bloatedandalone04 · 3 months

Text

Crossing that Line

➪the one where you and bradley drive each other crazy in more ways than one, but would do anything for each other, and all it takes is one confession to solidify your places in each others lives.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, swearing, fluff, hint of angst, pining to the max, a whole lot of smut tbh

Word Count: 6.1k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡ | Happy Birthday, Rooster !

The relationship you had with Bradley was…a weird one, to put it simply.

He pisses you off more than anyone you’ve ever met, and you drive him up the wall nearly every day, but you also couldn’t stand to be away from one another. He was your person, and you were his best friend; you would do anything for each other without an ounce of hesitation.

It was stupid, how hard you found yourself falling for him. The guy who had more confidence than he should, the guy who’s saved your ass more times than you can count, and the guy who’s taken hits for you during training, just so you wouldn’t have to hear about it later from the other guys.

The only thing is; you had no idea how he felt about you. He was cocky, confident and hid his feelings annoyingly well, you had no clue if the shared stares meant the same thing to him that they did to you, or if you were mistaking his comments for shameless flirting.

You couldn’t lose him, so you kept it bottled up for the last two years, and it’s been complete and utter hell. But you’d keep doing it. Because there was no telling what he was thinking sometimes, and if he was thinking about you.

The day was slowly coming to an end, and nearly everyone was heading to the barracks, but not you. Instead of going to your room, you made your way to the hangar, knowing who you would find in there. You turn the corner and lean against the wall, crossing your arms as you watch Bradley mess around with his F/A-18.

You tried not to focus on the way the muscles in his neck flexed with every move of his arm, the small amount of oil littering his skin making him shine a bit as the sun set behind you. “Hey, Bradshaw,” you greet before he could turn and catch you staring at him. “Nice flying today.”

You could see the way his body shifted in recognition of your voice, and when he turned to glance over at you, he was smirking. “Hey there, Y/n/n,” he said, wiping his hands on his flight suit. “Nice to see you haven’t crashed and burned yet.”

Shaking your head, you ignore the fact that it was just you and him left in the hangar now. “Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Bradley shrugged, grabbing a cloth from off a table and wiping his hands. “Could be kinda entertaining,”

You gasp, placing your hand over your heart. “Wow, ouch,” you mumble. “And here I am thinking I’d probably be heartbroken if the same thing were to happen to you.”

He laughed, turning to face you. “Please, we both know you’d be the first one to poke fun at me for crashing,”

You press your lips together and shrug. “Yeah, probably, but I’d also be the first one to make it over to you,”

Really, you’d probably die of a broken heart if something were to happen to him, but he didn’t need to know that right now. Or ever.

Bradley’s smirk softened and he looked down at his boots. “I know you would,”

And now you were picturing what it would be like to live without him, and you could feel yourself beginning to panic a bit.

Smiling, you shake your head again before giving him a conflicted look, wanting nothing more than to walk over to him and press the neediest kiss to his lips and tell him you were so fucking in love with him. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Bradley,” you say quietly, watching as his brows furrow.

“Wait,” he said, making you hold off on leaving just yet. “Something on your mind?”

“No,” you say too quickly for it to sound true. “Nope. I’m fine, Rooster. I’ll leave you alone now.”

His eyes narrow and he throws the cloth somewhere behind him as he steps towards you. “Why are you lying to me?”

You let out a surprised laugh, pushing yourself off the wall. “I’m not,”

“Uh huh,” he hummed, moving so he’s standing right in front of you. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Your face heats up and you quickly look away, squinting as your gaze meets the bright sunset. “Okay,” you trail off, glancing at him one last time before stepping away. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Bradley.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, maybe continue to call you out on your awful attempt at lying to his face, but his shoulders dropped slightly as he nodded casually. “Yeah, okay,” he agreed, moving away from you and back towards his jet. “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

Oh, how you loved and fucking hated when he called you that. It made you crave him even more than you usually do, and it also made you want to punch him square in the face for having such a strong effect on you.

“Don’t overthink too much,” he added, glancing back at you with a teasing smirk.

“I’ll try,” you whisper, and no more words are shared as you leave the hangar and quickly walk across base and towards the barracks.

Bradley knew you weren’t telling him something the second he saw your conflicted look before you tried playing it off right after. He wanted to push you on it more, but wasn’t sure if he even had the right to since it was pretty rare for things to become serious like that between the two of you.

He was still in the hangar, the arms of his flight suit now tied around his waist as he finally decided to stop touching his jet and leave it alone for the rest of the night. Like usual, his thoughts were taken over by you, and he wondered what would’ve happened if he didn’t let you leave so easily earlier. What could he have gotten you to say? Why did you suddenly become so closed off and serious in the middle of your usually playful banter?

He almost didn’t want to know, but he also kinda wanted to know.

It was late, but not too late for it to be deemed unacceptable for him to stop by your room before retiring to his for the night. So instead of taking the first hallway in the barracks corridor, he went past it and turned left a few feet down the hall, instantly recognizing your room without him even meaning to.

Bradley debated on whether or not he wanted to intrude on your night or save it for tomorrow, but with you he often found himself saying fuck it and hoping for the best. So he knocked.

After waiting for only a few seconds, the door opened and you poke your head out with guarded eyes, your gaze softened once you saw that it was him. “Bradley?”

He smiled, crossing his arms and leaning against the frame, mirroring your stance back in the hangar. “Hey,” he greeted. “Hope I’m not bothering you too late.”

You shake your head and smooth out your messy hair, and he knew you were probably in bed, trying to sleep but failing miserably to do so. During one of your thousand talk sessions, you mentioned how much you hated sleeping in the small, single beds here and couldn’t wait to start looking for apartments in the area. Bradley hated them, too, not because he couldn’t fit properly in them, but because whenever he laid down for the night, he was reminded of just how fucking lonely he really is. “No, you’re fine,” you give him a tight smile, one he knew was played up. Still, it was a pretty one nonetheless. “What’s up?”

Bradley’s gaze raked down your body, subtly checking out your attire of a loose, long sleeve button up and leggings. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You seemed off the last time we talked,”

“What, a few hours ago after a day of being in the air?” You laugh, running your hands down your face as you avoid eye contact with him. Now he knew you were hiding something for sure. “Yeah, I’m good. Great, even. I’m great.”

Bradley raises his brows, a huff escaping his lips after. “You are such a terrible liar,” he grunted, watching as you immediately looked down to the floor. “See, you can’t hide anything from me, sweetheart. Just tell me what’s up.”

You looked up at him with an expression he’s never really seen on you before, and it had him straightening up a bit. “You’re really not going to drop this, are you?”

“No,”

You glance down at the floor, pulling at the sleeves of your shirt. “I didn’t mean what I said earlier,” you confessed quietly.

Bradley’s gaze softened and he tried to get you to look at him, but you weren’t letting up. “What part?”

You shrugged, keeping your head down. “About how I would laugh if you crashed and burned,” you whispered. “I wouldn’t laugh.”

Bradley tenses up a bit at the sudden change in tone and atmosphere, looking around your small and neat room. “I know you wouldn’t, I was just messing with you,” like we usually do.

“No, Bradley,” you mumbled, still not looking at him. “I mean it. I’d be devastated if that were to happen to you.”

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching over to gently grip your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “I know…I know. I was just messing around…I didn’t expect…” He trailed off, suddenly aware of how close he had gotten to you. He had never touched you like this before, only ever going as far as a quick hug after a risky mission or a dangerous stunt in the air.

You furrowed your brows as you met his gaze with guarded eyes. “Didn’t expect what?”

Bradley inches even closer. “I didn’t expect that you’d care this much,”

Your eyes widen a bit as you look up at him. “Of course I care,” you gasped in disbelief, laughing after and breaking eye contact again. “Maybe too much.”

But he didn’t let your eyes wander far as he still had a hold on your chin, and he guided your face back to his. “What do you mean by that? ‘Too much’?” He asked, his eyes wide, any traces of his earlier teasing gone.

You give him a pleading look. “You know what I mean,”

Bradley held your gaze, noting your frustrated expression. “Maybe I do,” he murmured, caressing your jaw with his thumb. “But I want to hear you say it.”

“I can’t,” you shake your head and he could see the way you played with your fingers out of the corner of his eye.

“Why not?” He pressed, invading your space with another step. “What are you so afraid to tell me?”

You give him another pleading look, but he doesn’t step away. “I’m afraid of putting something out there that I can’t take back,”

When you moved to step away, Bradley’s hands reached for your hips, anchoring you in place. He had never been this close to you before, never touched you like this before, and it was driving him insane. “Tell me,”

“Bradley,”

His gaze intensifies, his head dipping down closer to yours. “Say it, sweetheart,”

Your eyes were wide with anxiety as you parted your lips to speak. “I…I’m in love with…you,”

Though he had a small feeling that he knew - or maybe hoped - you were going to say that, his breath still got caught in his throat. His heart was beating loudly in his ears, and his skin was on fire. No one had ever made him feel this way with a single sentence, and he wasn’t all that surprised that it was you. “You’re in love with me?” He asked, needing to hear it for confirmation.

A blush takes over your face as you shake your head and step away. “I-I didn’t…fuck, I’m sorry, I don’t-” you stuttered and he could see the tears gathered along your eyes. “I just messed everything up. I knew I would.”

Bradley’s eyes widen at the sudden loss of contact, and he shakes his head, too. “No, no, wait. Don’t…don’t apologize,” he rasped, running his hands through his hair. “Don’t be sorry. It’s…it’s okay.”

You stare at the floor and nod. “Okay,”

Your heart was on your sleeve now, and he knew he had to be careful. “Sweetheart…look at me,” he softly demands, stepping towards you and closing the distance you created.

“Can’t…I can’t,” you quickly shook your head but he lifted your chin with his fingers.

“Please,” he whispered. “Look at me.”

Slowly, your teary eyes met his and you looked like you were already building walls up to protect yourself from him, and that was the last thing he wanted. Seeing your eyes glazed over like this was damn near enough to break his heart, and Bradley took a step closer to you.

“There you are,” he whispered, gently stroking your chin with his thumb. He held your gaze, a mixture of embarrassment, vulnerability and uncertainty. “You have no idea.”

You furrowed your brows, trying to blink away the tears as you trembled in front of him. “No idea about what?” You asked, your voice barely above a murmur.

Bradley kept his eyes locked on yours, ensuring you knew just how serious his next words are. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited and wanted…hoped to hear you say that to me,” he confessed, watching as your eyes widened. “I never thought you felt the same way, so I never let myself think about it too much.”

Your breath audibly caught in your throat as you stuttered, “W-what?”

He smiled, his usual cocky and confident facade fading as the seconds went on. “You’re the one person, the only person I could never figure out fully. I could never tell if you wanted me as badly as I wanted you, or if you just saw me as the guy you bickered with all the time,” he continued. “You’re the one person who doesn’t care about how full of myself I am sometimes, you called me out on it. And ever since then, I couldn’t get you out of my head.”

“Bradley,” you gasped quietly, and he could see your walls starting to come down again, so he pushed further,

“And hearing you say that…that you’re in love with me…” he trailed off, moving his fingers from your chin and tracing them along your jaw. “It felt like I could finally have the one thing I thought I never could.”

You swallow hard, your eyes wide and vulnerable as he closes the distance further, leaving a few inches between the two of you. His fingers curled around your jaw and his thumb tugged at your bottom lip, his gaze flickering down for a few seconds.

“God, baby,” he whispered in disbelief. “Hearing you say that…it’s all I ever wanted. You get under my skin like no one else, and you make me want to pull my hair out, but I can’t fight the way I feel about you anymore. Not after this.”

“Bradley,” you say again, at a loss for words as you reach up and grip his wrist, leaning into his touch.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “Will you say it again? Please?”

He couldn’t believe he was begging to hear your words again, but the way your expression softened had him not giving a single fuck. “Bradley, I’m in love with you,”

His skin heated up as you repeated your words, and his control finally snapped. “Fuck…fuck,” he muttered, not wasting another second as he leaned in and kissed you. He poured all the nights he lost sleep thinking about you into the kiss, all the times he held back his own confession after your usual playful banter turned serious, all the times he thought about doing just this with you.

You kissed him back desperately, a soft moan escaping your throat as you gripped his wrists tightly. Bradley wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body right up against his as he deepened the kiss. He walks you backwards until your back hits the wall opposite from the door, pinning you to it as his hands roam all over your body.

He couldn’t believe, after all the nights he spent fantasizing about this, that he was finally touching you like this. Your quiet gasps against his lips had his touch growing more possessive as he felt your hands slide up to grip his shoulders. His palms were flat against your body, feeling the heat of your skin through your clothes. “God, baby, you taste so good. You feel so good,” he murmurs once he breaks the kiss and begins trailing his lips along your jaw, his body pressing yours closer to the wall.

“Oh, my God,” you moaned, your breath coming out heavy and uneven. “Bradley.”

He always knew his name would sound beautiful coming from your mouth like this, but actually hearing it was something else entirely. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he growled softly against your collar bone, his fingers lifting your shirt up so he could feel the smooth skin of your hips. “I’ve thought about this…about you for so long.”

Your fingers moved up to his hair, where you pulled gently. “You’ve thought about me?”

“Yes,” he answered, burying his face against your neck as his hands inched further up your body under your shirt. “I think about you all the time. I tried not to, but I was fucked from the second I saw you.”

The surprised laugh you let out had his touch growing more urgent, the only thing on his mind being more ways he could get you to make those pretty sounds again. “Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

Bradley lets out his own laugh, lifting his head from your neck as he raises a brow at you. “I could ask you the same question,” came his teasing reply as his hands slid up your back. “But really…you terrified me. I didn’t want to ruin things and mess up our friendship if you didn’t feel the same way.”

“So,” you trailed off, looking up at him with hopeful eyes. “What does this mean for our friendship? For us?”

He lifts a hand to your cheek, his thumb brushing against your bone as he answered, “It means that I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you. That I don’t need you, sweetheart,” he leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours. “It means we’re not just friends anymore.”

The smile you gave him had goosebumps forming on his skin and a wave of relief washing over him. “We’re not?”

Bradley shook his head. “No, baby, we’re not,” he confirmed, pressing his hips against yours as he placed a soft kiss to your lips. “You’re mine now, and I’m never letting you go.”

Your smile grows as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. “Bradley…I love you,”

He wraps his arms around your waist again as a warmth spreads all throughout his body. “I love you, too. So fucking much,” he mumbles before capturing your lips in another desperate, needy kiss. His tongue pokes out and nudges your lips apart, a deep groan leaving his throat as you pull at his hair. “Fuck, baby…been dying to taste you like this.” He breaks the kiss just long enough to whisper against your lips before going back in, his fingers moving to the buttons on your shirt.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” you say against his lips. “This is happening, right? This is real?”

Bradley pulls away to be able to look you in the eyes. “It’s real, sweetheart,” he said softly before beginning to unbutton your shirt. “I can’t believe you feel the same way about me.”

“You can’t believe I love you?” You tease, biting down on your wet, swollen lips.

His gaze darkens as he gets the final button undone, and then he lets the fabric slide off your shoulders. “Yeah. Been wanting to hear you say that for years,” he grunted, sliding his hands up your bare arms. “Been wanting to touch you like this.”

“And now that you can?” You asked in a breathless voice, staring up at him with a look he knew would be permanently burned into his mind.

“Now that I can,” he started, his hands tracing the curve of your hips as his eyes raked over your chest. “I’m going to do everything I've been dreaming about doing to you...and then some.”

You moan, nodding quickly and making his lips turn upwards into a smirk.

His hands move to the front of your leggings, his fingers teasing the thin fabric as his tongue runs along the smooth skin of your neck. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about this...about having you like this,”

“I think I might have an idea,” you mumbled, tugging at his undershirt.

Bradley grinned, feeling that warmth return and take over his body again. He pulled away to tug off his shirt and toss it to the side, then he was close to you again. “Yeah? Have you thought about me, too, baby?”

“Nearly every day,” you confessed as his hands moved back to your hips, his thumbs slipping past the waistline of your leggings as he slowly pulled them down. “Nearly every night.”

He groaned at your confession, helping you kick off the flimsy fabric before he was grabbing your hips again. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’ve been driving me crazy for so long,”

Your head tilts back and rests against the wall as his lips pepper kisses all along the base of your throat. “You’ve been making me go insane for years, Bradley,”

“You’re not the only one who’s been losing your mind over this,” he laughed, sliding his hands up your body until he was caressing the underside of your bra. “I hoped that this would pass, but it never did. The more time we spent together, the more impossible it became. I had this burning need to have you, touch you, taste you.”

He emphasized his words by gripping your hips and spinning you around so your back was pressed against his chest. Your gasp had his boxers tightening, his tongue tracing random shapes onto the skin behind your ear.

“The way you smile, laugh, and those fucking looks you give me,” he ranted, his breath fanning across your neck. “All the time we’ve spent together, I had to stop myself from taking you right then and there.”

When his hands slid down your body and pulled you closer to him, you moaned loudly, leaning your head back to rest against his shoulder.

“The sounds you make for me, fuck,” he moaned, tugging on curve of your ear with his teeth. “All I’ve been wanting is to see you fall apart for me, to hear you scream for me…beg for me.”

“Bradley,” you moaned again, leaning into his touch as his hands found the fabric of your bra, his fingers toying with the straps.

“I’ve needed you so badly,” he rasped, pulling the strap off your shoulder before leaning down to kiss the newly exposed skin. “I finally have you all to myself. I’m never letting you go.”

“Don’t let me go,” you begged, gripping his forearms tightly. “Please.”

“Never,” he said in a deep voice. “You’re mine now; mine to taste all over, to make scream.” He grabs your chin, gently turning your head so he could place a firm kiss to your mouth.

You moan, reaching behind you to tug on his hair as you pressed your body against his. “I want that,” you whine and he kisses you deeper, brushing his tongue against yours.

His fingers played with the clasp of your bra, and soon enough he had the lacy fabric sliding down your arms and landing on the floor. “I need to see you,” he nearly begged, breaking away from your lips as he groped your breasts with dark eyes.

“Well?” You asked, breathless from his touch as you rolled your hips back against him.

“Damn, baby, you’re so beautiful,” he commented, leaning down to suck a mark onto the side of your neck. “Been dreaming about how gorgeous you’d look all bare for me, how sweet you’d taste and how pretty you’d sound.” His thumbs slid over your nipples, the devoted attention he was giving them making you whimper.

“Oh, God,” you bit your lip to stifle the sounds that were coming out of you more frequently now.

“Don’t hold back, baby,” he mumbled, softly pulling at your nipples with his thumb and index fingers. “I wanna hear all those sounds you make for me.”

You oblige almost immediately, moaning as he continues to worship your chest. “I can’t believe I get to have you like this,”

“Believe it,” he grunted, smoothing his palms over your hardened nipples as he placed open mouthed kisses on your neck.

Your body started to shake against his, your perfect lips parting as you let out a string of whimpers. “Feels so good,”

“I’ve barely started,” he cooed, pressing his hardness against your lower back. “You feel perfect in my arms, baby.”

“I want you,” you whined, squeezing your legs together. “I want you so bad.”

“I want you, too,” he groaned, slowly rolling his body into yours, his cock growing impossibly hard. “So badly.”

His hands caressed your breasts in a feather light touch, and he felt goosebumps against his palms as you gasped. “Your hands…I’ve always wanted to feel them on me,”

“Yeah?” He teased, tracing his fingers around your nipples again, slowly but surely working you into a whiny mess for him.

“Yeah,” you huff, shaking even more. “Holy fuck, you feel so good.”

“So do you,” he growled, pinching your breasts before sliding his hands down your body. “I love touching you like this, but I need to feel more of you.” He murmured, turning you around in his arms so he could get a good look at you.

The way you were pressing your thighs together and the lust he could see in your eyes had him biting down hard on his lip, the sight of you only in a pair of lace panties doing things to him. “Please,” you whined, guiding his hand down your body.

His eyes rolled back slightly as he leaned his head down and began kissing your shoulders, his hand sliding down your damp panties. “You want me to touch you here?” He asked, knowing damn well what your answer is.

“Yes, please,” you gave in so sweetly, kicking the ruined fabric aside as you stepped back into his arms.

He presses kisses to your shoulders as his hand reaches out, his fingers running along your core. “Fuck, baby, you’re so wet,” he groaned, his cock throbbing as he felt just how worked up he made you.

“All for you,” came your instant reply. Bradley’s eyes darkened as he circled your clit with his middle finger, the way you were trembling against him being the hottest sight he had ever seen. “Oh, my God, yes.”

“There you go, baby,” he praised, sinking his fingers into your heat. “Give it to me, let me hear you.”

You let out another loud moan, reaching for his flight suit and practically shoving it down his legs. “I need you,” you said desperately. “I need you so bad.”

He could tell. Your wetness was dripping onto his hand as you spoke.

Bradley kicked off his boots and added his suit to the pile of clothes on the floor, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs as he picked you up and carried you over to your bed. He set you down on your back, his lips pressing to yours as he rolled his hips. “I need you, too,” he promised, pulling away from your lips and settling his head in between your legs. “But I need to taste this pretty pussy first.”

Then he was licking a stripe up your folds and making your back arch off the bed. “Fuck!” You called out, the slick sound of his tongue against you bouncing throughout the room. “Oh, my fucking God, Bradley.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he slid his tongue inside your wet walls, his eyes rolling back at your taste. “Goddamn, sweetheart,” he moaned, sucking and licking at you like a starved man. “You taste so fucking good, baby.”

“Bradley,” you moaned loudly. “Please, fuck me. I need you…right now.”

His eyes darken even more as he crawls back up your body, and you push his boxers down quickly. You wrap your legs around his waist, bucking your hips up so your core brushes against his aching cock. “I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby,”

Your brows furrow as he grips his base and guides himself inside you, your back arching again as you wrap your arms around him. “I love you,”

Bradley groaned, your wetness allowing him to sink all the way inside with one thrust. “God, I love you so much,” he said back, holding you against his body as he began to rock his hips against yours. “So much.”

He moved deep inside you, the feeling of skin on skin with nothing in between making his head spin. He hadn’t even asked if you wanted him to use a condom - and he knew it would’ve been a hard task to tear himself away from you and go to his room to get one, but he would’ve done it willingly - but you both seemed too lost in each other to think about it right now.

You felt so good. Bradley has never been this hard in his entire life, and he knew it was all because of you. “You feel so perfect,” he praised, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt you clench around him. “So tight…fuck.”

“Bradley,” you moaned, wrapping your legs tighter around him as he slowly fucked you against the matress. “You’re so big.”

Your words went right through him, a sense of pride filling him as he looked down at you with lust filled eyes. “You’re so tight,” he echoed his previous words, fucking into you harder but still keeping his pace slow. “So tight for me.”

Your eyes widened and you dropped your head against your pillow. “My fucking God, Bradley,” you gasped, shifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “Yes.”

“Say my name again,” he softly demanded before leaning down to suck a mark onto your neck. “Tell me who’s making you feel so good right now…who’s stretching you so good right now.”

“Bradley!” You cry out, pressing your chest right up against his. “I’ve wanted this for so long…knew you’d feel so good.”

“Baby,” he rasped, fucking into you faster. “You feel so much better than I could have ever imagined.”

Your arousal was dripping onto his thighs as he fucked you harder, his hips hitting yours harshly as he let all the pining and desire he’s felt for you pour out of him. “Don’t stop, please please please,” you begged for him just like he wanted, your hands pulling at his hair.

He grunted, his eyes flickering down to where you connected. “I’m not stopping, sweetheart, I can’t,” he huffed, watching the way his cock became more and more coated in your wetness with each thrust. “You feel too good, I need you.”

“Yes…yes,” you cried, digging your heel into his lower back and driving him even deeper inside you. “Oh, fuck.”

“Say my name,” he mumbled against your skin, not caring that the walls were pretty thin and anyone who may be in the hallway would definitely be able to hear you. “Say it again.”

“Bradley!” You moaned, scratching your nails down his back.

His movements were fast, uneven and uncontrolled now as he hiked one of your legs higher around his waist, angling his body so he could push himself impossibly deeper. “That’s my girl,” he cooed, feeling the way you clenched around him at his words. “My girl.”

“Your girl,” you repeated, looking up at him with hooded eyes.

“Yeah,” he whispered, leaning down so his lips brushed against yours. “My girl.”

He kissed you deeply, fucking you hard into the bed meant for one person, the sound of your muffled moans filling the room. “God, Bradley, you feel so good…so full,”

Your words were slurred as if you were drunk, but both of you were completely sober right now as you gave into your need for one another. “You feel so good, too,” he mumbled. “So perfect…so tight and wet for me.”

His words were as equally as filthy as yours were, and he couldn’t remember the last time he let himself get this lost in someone; to the point where he couldn’t care less about how dirty his mouth was.

“I’ve never felt anything better than you, baby,” he swore, reaching down to rub your swollen and puffy clit. “Nothing compares.”

Your jaw goes slack as you let out moan after moan, his words clearly having an effect on you. “I’m so close,”

“Yeah, I can feel it,” he groaned, rubbing and fucking you harder. His voice was rough and thick with desire, his breaths coming out ragged and uneven. “I want you to come for me. I need to feel you come.”

“Bradley! Right there,” you nearly screamed, clinging onto him with a death grip. “Right there.”

He hummed, “Just like that, baby,” he circled your clit faster, watching as you began to shake. “Come for me.”

Your body jolted and trembled under him, your release flooding around him and soaking his cock. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” You cried, squeezing your eyes shut as you dug your nails into his shoulders.

“There you go, sweetheart,” he cooed, kissing all over your face as he felt his own release creeping up on him. “God, I never want this to end.”

You whimpered, wrapping your arms around his neck and messily kissing him. He could feel you shaking still, but you didn’t ask him to stop or pull out, instead you just pulled him closer to you and whined against his lips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, kissing you softly as he got closer and closer. “So perfect.”

“I want you to come for me,” you mumbled in between kisses.

Bradley groaned, licking along your lips. “I want that, too,” he said. “I wanna come for you…only you.”

“Only me,” you whispered with a lazy smile, slowly rolling your hips to meet his thrusts.

He nodded, his eyes nearly shut as he managed to ask, “Where? Where can I-”

“Inside me,” you answered, your heel on his back keeping him from pulling out too much. “I want it inside me.”

Bradley’s eyes squeezed shut as he felt his control snap. “Fuck…fuck, I’m coming, baby,” he groaned deeply, fucking his seed into your abused core. You moan quietly, running your fingers through his sweaty hair as his body shakes from the intensity of it all. He had never come that hard before, and when he slowly came to a stop, he could feel it seeping around him and dripping out of you. He also never came that much before. “That….that was-”

“I know,” you beamed, kissing him softly as you kept your legs wrapped around him. “I love you so much.”

Bradley smiles down at you, kissing you back. “I love you, too,” he promised as he rolled you onto your sides, still buried inside you.

“Stay with me?” You asked as you kissed along his salty skin.

After years of wanting to experience this with you and have you all to himself, he was finally able to, and he wasn’t planning on ever leaving your side again. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,”

You smile, trailing your hand up and down his back. “So…what does this mean for us?”

Bradley tangles his fingers in your hair, holding you close to him. “I want to call you my girlfriend, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Will you let me?”

You close your eyes, letting out a quiet groan. “I want to be your girlfriend so badly,”

“Then it’s settled,” he stated, pulling you even closer as a grin tugged at his lips. “You’re my girlfriend.”

Your hands slide up to his shoulder as you kiss him. “And you’re my boyfriend,”

Bradley smiled as he kissed you back. “And I’m going to make sure I’m the best boyfriend you’ve ever had,”

“You better be the best and last,” you warn playfully, laying your head on his chest.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he laughed, running his hand along your lower back. “You’re stuck with me.”

A blush takes over your face as you kiss the scar on his neck. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,��

They fucked again after that btw. Happy Birthday, Bradley Bradshaw!

351 notes · View notes

sometimesanalice · 4 days

Note

A prompt party, Alexa? How in the world did I miss that? I'd be over the moon if you could write a little something for Bradley + "i’m gonna marry you one day." 🪩 ✨

Rebecca! Now you know I’m always down to write a little something for a smitten Bradley! I hope you enjoy!

It was a surprisingly quiet night at the Hard Deck.

You could actually hear the music playing out of Penny's old juke box, rather than just the faint essence of notes for whatever oldie was queued up over the usual rowdy ruckus. And there were more empty chairs scattered about than there were taken ones.

It was one of the rare rainy days they got in San Diego. The gray skies and drizzle driving even the best of Uncle Sam's finest under blankets and curled up on couches.

Bradley always liked the moody weather. He liked the way the clouds seemed to cling to the coastline. He liked the rough rolling waves as they broke against the shore with more force than they usually did.

But he wasn't look out the bank of windows out towards the beach, in fact, he had his back turned to it.

Because he was looking at you.

Bradley had been trying to ask you out for the better part of two months now. And he was starting to think that you were giving him the runaround.

He'd learned that first evening that you were only filling in as a favor to Penny- she and your mom went way back as sorority sisters- for a few months as Jimmy recovered from his knee replacement surgery.

Under normal circumstances, he’d take the hint and move on. And even if his mom hadn’t raised him right- which she had- Rooster knew that just because someone was nice didn’t mean they were interested. Especially when it was their job.

But he couldn’t kick the feeling that there was something there.

All he needed was one date to prove it.

It was more than the way you always seemed to catch him looking, because you were looking right back. Or the way you’d slip him a free drink every now and then, saying it was on the house. Or the way you found a way to brush past him a little too close whenever you'd swing by with more peanuts for Bob or a fresh round of drinks for his friends.

You were so damn smart and funny as hell. He’d taken to spending less time on his ESPN app and more time on the NYT trying to find interesting topics to get to spend a extra few minutes with you. Nothing felt better than earning a smile from you.

But any time he got close to asking you out or asking for your number, you were pulled away by something or another. The sound of broken glass. A pointed throat clearing from a thirsty patron. An emergency trip to the storage closet.

Rain was good luck in some places, and Bradley needed all the luck he could get. It hadn’t been on his side in the past two month, but tonight was his night. He was sure of it.

Especially considering he was the only person seated at the bar.

You'd been popping out and checking on people, delivering refills personally to the few people who had braved the elements instead of having them come up to the bar.

Rooster was patient, he didn't mind waiting his turn. After all, he had a shiny new NYT subscription to keep him company.

He smiles to himself when you work your way back to the bar, grabbing the bowl of limes and a cutting board, and setting up right in front of him. He watches as you deftly slice and quarter the limes into wedges, their bright scent clinging in the air.

“Why does it feel like I’ve seen less of you tonight than I do when this place is packed?” Bradley asks, saving the article he was midway through before closing out of the app completely.

“I’m just a one woman show here tonight, I told Penny to stay home." You're tidy and efficient in the way you store the prepped wedges and work to clean up the already immaculate bar. "It's means a bit more running around for me. But I don't mind, I like to keep busy."

"So I've noticed."

You look up at him from under your lashes, as you wipe down the prep space. "Have you been keeping tabs on me, Rooster?"

"Now I know you're teasing me." He sets his phone down and levels a look at you. "Because we both know you catch me looking often enough to know the answer to that."

You press your lips together, but the corners curl up anyways.

"Oh, Bradley," you say with a soft sigh. "Bradley, Bradley, Bradley..."

And then your eyes drop purposefully down.

The two of you stare at his phone sitting on the shiny bar top.

"You wouldn't," he rasps.

"I think I'm legally obligated to. There's a very official wood sign and everything." You look the picture of innocence, but you don't fool him.

"Sweetheart, c'mon."

"Are you asking me to bend the rules for you? Just because Penny isn't here?" You tsk, with a self-satisfied smile. "And here I thought you were a Boy Scout."

Bradley just shakes his head amused as you sashay up to the bell and give it a loud, long ring. A couple whoops go up in response, but no one gets up. Yet.

You walk back towards him with an all too pleased smile.

"I think you enjoyed that."

You smile wider and don't deny it. "I can't lie, it is a fun perk of the job."

He sighs. "And here I thought we had something special."

"Stop that, you're too pretty to pout," you tease. "You gave me no choice. I don't make the rules, I just follow them. And as much as I love Penny, I have a healthy dose of-"

"-fear-"

You smirk. "I was going to say respect. But also you're not wrong."

"And what about me?" he asks, sitting up straighter on his stool. "What are your impressions of me?"

"Oh you?" You tilt your head to the side, letting your gaze linger on his face as you muse. "You look like trouble."

"Do I now?"

"Mmhm. I thought it from the moment I saw you strut through that door." You say it like you're letting him in on a secret. "And there’s something you should probably know about me."

He leans in closer. "And what's that?"

You mirror him, leaning in as well and resting your elbows on the counter. Your face is just inches from his. “I’m really good at getting into trouble.”

He grins. “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

You tip your head back and laugh, it’s the best sound he thinks he’s ever heard.

“That’s a bold statement from the man who still has yet to ask me out on a date.”

He opens his mouth, to do just that, after months of failed attempts. And then another one of the patrons saddles up to the bar, waving you down for your attention.

Rooster groans.

"Alas, it appears I have another gentleman caller," you sing, reaching for the towel and waving it like a handkerchief in his direction. "Guess I'll be seeing you around, Bradley. Maybe at the end of an aisle, who knows, the night is young."

The smile you give him promises that this conversation isn't over yet.

You spin away from him and don’t give him a second glance as you head over towards the thirsty man whose beer is going on his tab, but there’s a sway in your hips that wasn’t there before.

And Bradley thinks to himself, this is going to be fun.

#it's a prompt party 🪩#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine

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feyascorner · 9 months

Text

4 | The Fangs Between Us

summary. Astarion, if anything, you are sure is a liar. It’s impossible to tell what he’s truly thinking and whether his words hold an ounce of truth. You just wish you’d been an exception.

With lidded eyes locked with your own in a trance you can’t break ahold of, he sinks his teeth into her neck.

You’re at a complete loss of words, and you feel nothing but shame knowing that rather than the distaste you should feel, you feel something else.

Bitter. Not jealous, no, not quite, but really damn bitter.

warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard

pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader

parts. TFBU masterlist

a/n. 7.6k words,,, but have a bit of Astarion POV somewhere in here featuring Gale!!

You’re dying again.

But rather than the usual nightmare consisting of him pinning you to the ground with his hands on your throat, he’s standing above you. In that dark alleyway a week ago, where the spawn had nearly taken your life. The ground feels muddy again, and despite there being nothing at your neck, you still can’t breathe.

And then, you’re alive again, lurching up from your mattress with sweaty skin sticking your nightwear to your body. After your eyes adjust to the bright sunlight flooding into your room through the window, you sigh.

You want to ask if he’d been real. If he’d truly been there that night, saving your life against the spawn despite his words just the other night. Despite the stomach-churning way, he looks at you.

Hope is a dangerous thing.

It doesn’t take you long to get ready. When you clamber out your door, your eyes glaze over his own, standing still as a rock just beside yours. Even though you know he’s right there, just a wooden door away, it doesn’t feel like it at all. He feels like an illusion—perhaps a ghost to haunt you for what you’d done to him. He’s been here for days now, and somehow, you feel further from him than you did when he was just a shadow of your past. Lingering. Driving you mad.

In some ways, this is worse.

Especially with the way your last interaction concluded, you’d expect yourself to feel nothing but negative turmoil for him. Yet, with the dreams haunting you every night and the endless afternoons you spend wallowing in your experiences with him in the past, it’s hard to do so.

Even more so when the terrifying force of hope grabs hold of you like a shackle to the heart.

You’re not sure if what you saw that night as an angel was really him or if you were simply hallucinating as a last-ditch attempt to console your imminent death. You hope—no, you question if he’d been the one to save you and fetch the Fist. Unfortunately, you have nobody to ask, as none of your other companions seem aware that you’d “seen” Astarion at death’s doorstep and the embarrassment that floods you intends to keep it that way.

It had to be him, surely. Why else would he have been at Elfsong Tavern that same exact day? Why else had Petras seen him the night before that, murdering that blond elf seconds after you’d been there?

Astarion, if anything, you are sure is a liar. He’s like this by nature, like an instinct resulting from the centuries spent under Cazador’s dreadful rule. It’s impossible to tell what he’s truly thinking and whether his words hold an ounce of truth. You just wish you’d been an exception.

‘Did you save me? Why?’ you want to ask desperately. You curse your past self for ending your last conversation that way. You’d hoped it would’ve at least gone a bit better.

“Perhaps we should throw him back in the Duke’s dungeon,” Lae’zel grumbles, tearing at her piece of bread as she sits on the armchair in the living space downstairs. Why she prefers such stale food is beyond you. “That istik is clearly not helping.”

“Give him time,” you mumble, thankful that at this time of morning, most of the house is still asleep. Only you or Lae’zel seem to be awake at the break of dawn. “We don’t have much of a choice anyway, given nobody else we know is a vampire spawn.”

“I’ve already given him tenfold the time I wish to give him. If it were up to me, he’d already be dead.”

“He is dead.”

She doesn’t laugh. You snort and reach to the cabinet, where instead of your usual supplies, you find a bottle. The crimson liquid at the bottom is scarce, but there’s just enough for a few more sips if you ration it right, which is what you assume he’s been doing, considering he hasn’t asked once to go hunting.

You wonder if he’s feasted on the necks of poor beautiful maidens in the city, captured by his charm and lured to an untimely end. You imagine their long, silky hair falling across their face as they bare their necks for his teeth, wincing the first few moments they sink down. But afterward, it would feel intimate—close, even—as he lets their blood sully his own. And once he finally pulls away with a piece of their lifeline, he’d grin down at them with stained lips painting them like lipstick…

Your brows furrow, but not for them. You seriously hope he just fed on goblins, or something along those lines. You’d even look past gnomes.

“T’chaki. Whatever disgusting thoughts you’re having, I suggest you stop,” Lae’zel snaps, and you blink. “And put that bottle away. You look like you want to devour it yourself.”

You do so sheepishly. “Please tell Gale to take Astarion to the forest to gather more blood. He’ll starve to death at this rate.”

“That would be ideal. Though I wouldn’t have the pleasure of putting my own sword through his chest.”

Your frown is visibly apparent, and it deepens her own. “Such a declaration shouldn’t displease you. My people believe an attempt at murder is enough to declare war. You should be trying to kill him, should you not? He is hshar’lak.”

“For the last time, I’m not going to-”

“She’s right, you know. As rare as that is,” you nearly jump at the cleric’s voice, though Lae’zel only glares. She’s leaning on the doorway, chewing on a half-eaten apple. “I won’t force him to leave, but I do hope you seriously reconsider your decision to harbor a vampire spawn. We trusted him once, and it didn’t end so well. I’d prefer avoiding making the same mistake again.”

He saved me, you want to say. The words are on the tip of your tongue before you reel them back, sealing them into your own heart. “Why are you awake so early?”

“We’re out of supplies,” she says. “I’m going to the market. Care to tag along? I wouldn’t hate the company.”

Your eyes flicker to the stairs as if expecting something, but you force yourself back to your companions and nod. “Alright.”

He was a magistrate.

At least, that’s what he remembers. His memories of the days before his heart stopped beating are fuzzy, like they’re muffled by water as he drowns in the unending 200 years of torture. Even without Cazador, even after stabbing through his corpse a dozen times, it doesn’t feel enough. It will never be enough.

He hears the front door open downstairs and finds himself lowering his book a tad to peer down outside the window his bed is pressed up against. You clamber out, stumbling over yourself as you tie your boots halfway through the door. He can hear you calling into the house through the thin glass panes. “Apples, pork loin, what else?”

“Bread and cheese!” another shout downstairs. It’s the cleric, he deems from the tone of her voice.

“Right, right,” you snort, waiting for her to catch up with you.

His eyes don’t leave you as you make your way down the street, eventually vanishing as you round a corner leading to the main marketplace of the city. And when you’re finally gone, his attention flits back to his book, rereading the page for what feels like the millionth time.

He likes reading—as much as he can, anyway—when he’s not hunting or running from the sun as if it’ll chase him down even in the shadows. He has three books. And if someone were to ask, he’d be able to recite them all by memory.

He had a fourth one, once. One you’d gifted him, but no longer does he want it. It sits under the bed, gathering dust for what he hopes to be forever.

He hasn’t spoken to you in days, and he expects nothing less. He hasn’t spoken to anyone, really, only receiving glares from Shadowheart, ignored by Lae’zel, and—well, Gale, he supposes, offers conversation, but Astarion’s the one to avoid those particular interactions. The wizard’s absence is not the only one he’s grateful for.

Yours, for one, after how your last conversation ended, is not one he wants to risk another of. Yet, the past few days, despite never daring to approach him, he’s seen you looking from afar with the eyes of a kicked pup. But the second he comes too close, your guard is up again, your words curt, and sentences abruptly ending in his presence. Only when you think he doesn’t notice do your true feelings surface in this pathetic display. He almost pities you.

Unfortunately, in all the realms of words he’s described himself as he has never considered himself a sympathetic person.

He revels in your obsession with him. One that he will no longer reciprocate.

He glances at the empty jar of blood on the bedside table and clenches his jaw.

A hefty bit of time later, when he’s sure most have left the home, he climbs down the stairs where the first floor is still overtaken with darkness. The curtains have been put up in a clumsy manner, but they do their job efficiently enough, as he’s allowed to pace across the wooden floors and reaches for a drawer beside the sink. There’s a glass bottle of animal blood inside–it’s running dangerously low.

“You look awfully drained.”

Astarion fights the urge to groan at Gale’s voice.

“If that’s your attempt at vampiric humor, I hope you’re aware it would only have hungry spawns lunging for your neck,” he shoots back, snatching the bottle and popping it open with a swift move of his thumb and lifting it to his lips. He drinks, gulping down whatever’s left. While on any other occasion, he’d feel appalled at not even using a goblet, his hunger has been itching at him for days, now. If he didn’t know how foul Gale’s blood tasted, he might’ve even considered the damned wizard.

“I’m warning you, I taste positively terrible.” Ah, he must have been staring.

“I assure you, I’d more likely scout the city for rats before drinking another drop of your blood,” Astarion retorts back, setting down the glass bottle. “Now, please hurry and tell me what in the hells you want before I escape for those aforementioned rats.”

“Adjusting well to your life here, I presume?”

Astarion stares at him like he grew a second head.

“I was jesting.”

“You do a poor job at it.”

Gale sighs irritably. “You haven’t come downstairs in days; we’d thought you were dead already…again.”

“I’d rather not be in the presence of multiple people who appear ready to lop off my head at any moment,” Astarion snaps. “As much as I’d love decapitation for my cause of death, now is not the right time for such events.”

Neither of them laugh.

“The others…” Gale takes his time talking as if he’s searching for words that aren’t there, and it makes Astarion’s eye twitch. “You understand why they’re apprehensive about you being here. In all honesty, I am too.”

The spawn’s brows knit together, and he rolls his eyes. “Whether or not they want me here, it was their choice to keep me trapped in this bloody house. Even when I insisted I didn’t know a damned thing about what my dear siblings were up to, your leader chose to “take responsibility” for me...whatever that means. So by all means, Gale, just open the door for me, let them know I won’t be returning, and you’ll never see me again.”

Astarion expects him to yell at him, snap at him, maybe even cast a spell, but he expects him to do something with the words that spill out of his mouth like vomit. But instead, the wizard opens his mouth, shuts it again, and seems to be in thought. “I haven’t heard you talk for so long in ages. Nice to know your endlessly running mouth is still there.”

“You’re one to talk.”

He snorts, his eyes flitting to the curtains messily nailed onto the wood surrounding the windows, and Astarion can see his face fall. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to let you go, for I’ve made a promise with Tav to check in on you in place of themselves…and the others, of course. And I may be a man of many words, but I am not a man of lies.”

Astarion almost laughs at the irony. “Is that what hiding the bomb in your chest was? Honesty?”

“Oh, please,” he waves him off. “That was eons ago! And besides, I’ve got that all sorted now, so no more eating magical pairs of shoes…thank the Gods. Though the magical enhanced gems weren’t so bad-”

“Please tell me someone other than yourself will be hovering over me like a parasite.”

“I’m afraid not,” Gale smiles. “Lae’zel wouldn’t hesitate for a vampire head hanging over the fireplace, Shadowheart would most likely place a curse on you, and Tav rarely comes home at all. So, unfortunately, and also most fortunately, you are stuck with yours truly.”

Astarion groans. And though he’s about to shoot him with another quip, the front door swings open, and Shadowheart steps into the house. When she notices him standing beside the kitchen, her body visibly tenses.

“You’re supposed to stay in your room.”

“I’m also not supposed to starve to death in that room, as much as I’m sure you’d approve of that.”

Her gaze flickers to the empty bottle of blood, and immediately, her face hardens. She narrows her eyes, and Gale, as usual, steps forward. “Now, Shadowheart, let’s not get too hasty-”

“If you are ever starving to death,” she glares. “You best hope not Tav is the only person around. If you ever even ask them for their blood again, I’ll show you just how much blood you have stored up.”

Astarion scoffs, grinning. “Such a terrifying foe you are. But there truly is no need to worry so much. I don’t need their blood, and I never intend to ask them for a single drop again. Not anymore.”

Shadowheart looks only half convinced, but after a moment of contemplation, the atmosphere turns less rigid, and she sighs, stepping backward. “I really did not miss having a vampire in our home.”

He’s about to let out another condescending laugh when he hears a shift in the dirt outside the open door. Neither of the others seems to notice. “And for the record, if you ask me for blood, you’ll end up even worse.”

Right then, he watches you step into the house, arms stuffed with paper bags filled to the brim with fruits, meat, and bread, and you nearly stumble on your own legs as you try to guide yourself to the kitchen counter. “Did we really need this much for just a week?”

“Of course we did. My famed stew is not made so haphazardly, you know. It requires skills, talents, and lots and lots of patience-”

You finally set down the groceries and notice Astarion’s presence in the room. He knows you do because of the way your posture straightens, becoming more guarded. It makes the corner of his lips lift in a way that’s sure to make you uneasy.

But when your gazes finally meet briefly, you turn away as if it doesn’t bother you in the slightest.

His eyes widen. Did you just ignore him?

He shifts, just enough to catch your attention, but all you do is listen to Gale’s ramble about his bloody stew. He’s sure nobody on Faerun gives a damn about his soup at this very moment, and you're no exception. Yet you’re clearly preferring his words over Astarion’s glares in such a blatant display.

You are ignoring him.

“Moving on,” Shadowheart groans. “We’re going to investigate the families of the spawn victims. We’ll let you know if we find anything. Oh, and tell Lae’zel she needs to move her weapons out of the living room before I throw them into the sewers myself.”

Gale shudders. “I’ll tell her, but certainly not those exact words.”

Astarion’s eyes follow you the whole time as you wait for Shadowheart at the door, hand holding a sheet of paper which he assumes to be the list of victim families. And the entire time, you refuse to even look in his direction.

It evokes something in him. He’s not sure what, but it does. Annoyance, he supposes.

Gale finally turns to him when you and Shadowheart shut the door closed behind you. “Now you and I can get groceries for you…as long as it’s only animals, of course.”

Another hour with the wizard might drain him of what remains of his life force (which is very little considering that he’s dead), and he thinks a few hours might just be the cause of his perishing.

There are too many bodies. Too much blood that reminds you of the evil that you believed was dealt with. Their families weep, and you can do nothing but stand to the side, watching as they claw at the Fist’s uniforms, begging to know what could be done. Begging to see their loved ones again.

You feel selfish, almost. Having finally seen your own former beloved, you only allow yourself to watch from afar, afraid of getting any closer.

So you’d escaped the town square, fleeing to the roofs where you could properly assess any potential victims’ families and determine if they were even worth approaching in the emotional wreck they were in. The list of bodies nearly crumples under the crushing weight of your own hands. The silence looming across the rooftop patio is far more relaxing than the chaos below.

Well, save for the company perched beside you.

“So what’s with your lyre?” Alfira blinks. “Where is it?”

“Sold it.”

“Why? That’s such a waste!” she frowns, rubbing at a smudge on her own instrument. “It was made of such fine wood too…I do hope you didn’t undersell that beauty.”

You roll your eyes. “Maybe I should’ve sold it to you at a higher price.”

“If not your lyre…” she tilts her head, scooching her stool closer to yours. “Then what are you playing nowadays?”

“I don’t play anything.”

Her eyes widen. “You don’t play anything? What does that mean?”

“I quit, Alfira,” you sigh, finally turning to look at her. “I’m not technically a bard anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Once you’re a bard, there’s no backing out of it. It’s in your very blood,” she explains, lifting her own lyre to you. “Go on, play something. I know you have it somewhere in you.”

Your face falls at her offer, but she remains firm, urging you to go on. It’s only when you realize she has no intentions of ignoring your words that you finally take the lyre into your own hands. It feels too foreign. It’s not your own instrument, but it’s a different kind of familiarity than that. While your fingers used to itch to sing their tales, you now feel nothing, just an empty husk of what once burst with inspiration.

Still, you try, even if just for show. Your finger tugs at one of the strings, letting it snap and vibrate its hum. You try another and another, but they’re all disjointed, barely managing to hold on to one another before your brows furrow, and you drop your hand. It just doesn’t feel right.

You hold it back to her. “I told you.”

“Well,” she looks down at her lyre. “I’m sure even the greatest bards have struggled with their music from time to time. It’s just a bump in the road.”

No, you want to tell her. It’s the end of the road, and there’s nothing you could possibly do to solve it, because you’ve already tried it all.

“Here, I started a new song,” she smiles hopefully. “Maybe it might spark your own musical talents. Care to listen?”

While a part of you is hesitant, the way she excitedly clutches onto the lyre makes you relent. “Sure.”

She begins to sing, and even if it’s better than it had been when you last saw her in the grove, it’s shaky. You suppose she must always be like this when producing a new song, at least until she grows accustomed to it. Still, it fills the air with a calm melody and drowns out the sounds coming from below on the streets, which you’re grateful for.

The breeze feels nice on your skin. You let your shoulders drop, closing your eyes as you drink in the notes produced by her lyre.

“I don’t need their blood, and I never intend to ask them for a single drop. Not anymore.”

The words echo in your head. It shouldn’t hurt you, really, you didn’t intend on giving it to him anyway, but a sick part of you wishes he could’ve at least asked, and you could’ve been the one to reject him. Not the other way around.

It feels like getting rejected for a confession you never made.

You blame yourself for eavesdropping.

“So? What do you think so far?”

You barely register that her song has ended, forcing you to focus back on the bustling city below. With a clear of your throat, you nod. “It’s good, it’s just…”

Her eyes seem to glow as she leans towards you, curious to hear your next words. Why she has so much faith in your advice is beyond you. You’d helped her with her last song, but it’d just been a stroke of luck that you managed to capture the emotions she wanted to convey through its notes. It certainly did not help that you hadn’t touched an instrument in months. “...Nevermind. I’m not sure what I was trying to say there.”

Her smile drops, and she holds her lute closer to her chest, nodding. “I see. It’s a shame.”

What she’s referring to, you’re not sure.

She digs through her pocket, managing to scrape out a crumpled sheet of paper which she puts on your lap. You do your best to make out the words messily scribbled on the sheet, which you determine to be the unfinished song. While you shoot her a wary look, she pushes the paper back to you when you attempt to offer it back.

“I have faith in you. More than anyone else, for a song like this,” she smiles. “You don’t have to help me finish the song like last time. Just absorb it. At least read the lyrics for me, will you?”

You want to say no, but you end up pocketing the sheet instead.

After you say your farewells, leaving her to continue humming to herself, you regroup with Shadowheart. Your own spirit falls when judging from her expression, she’s had even less success than you.

“We’re going around in circles,” Shadowheart sighs beside you. “None of the families know anything, and as much I’d love to stay an hour at each house to console them, at this rate, we’ll die of old age before finding these spawn…are you listening?”

You blink, snapping back into attention as you turn to her. “Did you say something?”

She raises a brow at you. “And what are you so distracted for?”

Mourning something that hasn’t happened, but you don’t tell her that. “It’s nothing.”

She doesn’t appear convinced, but neither does she pry. You’ve always had a mutual understanding with her when it came to one another’s secrets—don’t push. And even when either of you want to, you stay true to your silent agreement. You’re grateful for it at times like these.

Suddenly, there’s a bump to the left of you, not enough to make you stumble, but enough to make you glance back. They’re small, and you assume they’re a halfling or dwarf, despite their shoulders seeming too narrow. However, you forget about the details when your eyes hone in on their bare feet, absent of any shoes, much less socks. Something is wrong. Very wrong. When you look back up, you barely catch the way their hand slips back into their cloak, and immediately, your own flies into your pocket, where you’re now missing your dagger.

Shit.

You break into a sprint, forced to ignore Shadowheart, who calls out for you from behind, as you try to chase the hooded figure who swerves through the crowd of people on the street. Despite the people who curse and hiss as you shove through them, you’re only barely managing to tail the small cloaked figure, and in no such world are you willing to lose that dagger under circumstances that are not your own.

It’s pathetic, you know, to hold on to such a small part of him for so long. You’re sure he’s thrown away all of your own belongings, so why hold onto the dagger he kept strapped to his chest for months, holding it near his heart? You reckon this may be a blessing brought upon the gods who pity you, and you ponder if they’re watching you now, laughing at your pathetic display of desperation.

Still, you refuse to let it go like this.

The figure turns an alley, and your feet pick up. It’s a dead end.

You screech to a halt, slipping out a smaller blade that glints in the light allowed to seep into the isolated corner, eyes narrowed. The figure stands with its back to the wall, and you gawk at the way their shoulders shake as if they’re laughing to themselves. “Give it back, thief.”

They don’t budge, only continuing to tremble, and eventually, you’ve had enough. You march toward them, yanking back their hood with your knife, readied to retaliate if they dare, but immediately, your face pales. At the same time, Shadowheart finally manages to catch up to you.

“Hells, this crowd is a disaster,” she hisses, dusting off her shoulders. Then she shoots you a frown, eyes flitting back and forth between you and the supposed thief. “Whose child is that?”

You realize she hadn’t been laughing but shaking from fear.

She’s tiny. Unnaturally frail for her age which you guess to be around 9 or 10, which you note before letting her go from the grasp you have on her cloak. And from up close, you see that her bottom lip has been gnawed raw, still red from the last time it bled. She’s grasping onto your dagger for dear life, looking up at you with wary wide eyes, and you find your face relaxing. You bend down on one knee so you’re not just staring down at her, sighing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, really.”

Her trembling eases a bit, but her grip around your dagger tightens. In her hands, it almost looks like a sword. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you angry. I swear, I didn’t mean to.”

Shadowheart steps to stand beside you. “Please tell me this child isn’t yours?”

“No, of course not!” you snap, and she snickers. You roll your eyes and turn back to the girl. “I won’t hurt you; I swear my life on it. But I need that dagger you’re holding.”

She hesitates, her eyes desperately searching for honesty in yours.

“It’s—important to me,” you mumble sheepishly. “Please.”

You watch her glance between you and the blade in her hands multiple times, then slowly reach it out to you. You offer her a smile, sheathing it beside your hip once more. You feel whole again. “Thank you. Now, I won’t tell your parents this time, but you really can’t go around stealing people’s things–”

“Berry!” she blurts.

You blink, and she picks at her own hands. “I live with Miss Cora.”

The puzzle pieces click in place.

“You’re the one Cora has to lull to sleep.” The words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you regret them with how her cheeks puff and paint her face a light shade of pink.

“You’re one of the orphans, then, I presume,” Shadowheart crosses her arms. “Any reason why you’re lurking in the city—without shoes, might I add—and robbing people of their belongings?”

“I wasn’t trying to steal,” she insists, then meets your eyes. “I didn’t know how else to talk to you alone.”

“Alone? With me? Why?”

“I know where Roger—I mean, Miss Cora’s husband went that night,” she looks down. “I didn’t know who else to tell. I wasn’t supposed to be out…but I needed fresh air. And…And I saw…”

You hold your breath. “Where did he go?”

“It was the Blushing Mermaid,” she splutters. “He went and never came back. I-I can’t tell Miss Cora…If I do, she’ll hate me and kick me out. I can’t leave, so please, don’t tell her.”

Shadowheart leans to your ear. “That’s not possible. He couldn’t have been there.”

No, you think. You’d been there. You’d been at the Blushing Mermaid that night, and while you weren’t exactly in the best state of mind, you surely couldn’t have missed a literal murder taking place. Regardless, you shake away your lingering doubts and take her shoulders.

“We won’t,” you assure her. “For now, I need you to go back to Miss Cora. It’s not safe in the city by yourself right now.”

She wipes at the tears threatening to spill from her eyes with her arm and nods firmly, readjusting her hood and cloak so that her entire body is covered once more. You place a hand on her head.

“Thanks for telling me, Berry. I’ll find out who did this to Roger, and you’ll be the first person to know,” You manage the best smile you can at the moment. “And please, next time, just tap my shoulder.”

Her lips purse, and she flees to the Highberry residence.

“Well,” Shadowheart finally uncrosses her arms. “At least we have a lead now. It was starting to feel hopeless—though I’m not sure if this is a lead at all.”

Regardless of your own doubts, time is running out. Every night you spend with no progress is another waste of nearly a dozen lives in the city. So you shove aside your skepticism and sigh. “It can’t hurt to try.”

“What do you mean he just left?” Lae’zel seems just about ready to stab her sword through Gale’s chest, and you can’t bring yourself to blame her.

“I’m telling you, he just vanished! Into the thin air, nearly,” Gale groans in exasperation, throwing up his arms. “We were returning from the forest after his hunt, and I didn’t even look away. One second he was there, and the next-”

“He’s a rogue, you foolish wizard,” the githyanki hisses, and you cross your arms beside her, offering Gale no sympathy. “We must go search for him, drag him back, and keep him pinned to a wall with a spear.”

At this, you balk. “Well, no, we’re not going to-”

“And you,” she spins around to you. “You must stop defending the spawn over your unreciprocated feelings. Your urges to make love may remain, but his does not.”

Your face flares, and you hear Gale nearly drop the book he’d been holding.

“I am not—”

“It’s painfully obvious to the rest of us. It’s been days since he joined us, and all of us must deal with your imploring eyes while he seems promptly set on ruining every conversation any of us have with one another,” she continues, and as such, in Lae’zel fashion, she does not hold back the sting of her words. “I am indebted to what you’ve done for me, and for that, I cannot stand aside and watch you reduce yourself to this lovesick mutt over a bloodsucking leech.”

Gale clears his throat. “Lae’zel, now I believe that’s more than enough to-”

“Seal that mouth of yours, wizard, before I rid of it for good.”

He does so immediately.

You stare at her, appalled at her words. Imploring eyes? Lovesick mutt? You don’t even want to mention the bloodsucking leech comment. All you can do is keep yourself from opening your mouth, in fear that something that sounds dangerously close to defending Astarion might escape against your will.

A smart choice, as Lae’zel sighs, her patience wearing thin.

“You are a warrior. One of the most formidable I’ve come across,” she scowls. “Do not disappoint me this way. You do not owe him anything. That kainyank is the one who nearly took your life.”

A part of your heart cracks. You ignore the stinging in your palms as your nails dig into them, unsure what you’re even supposed to say at this point, and you fumble over your own words dying to escape your throat. Because you do owe him something. Because if your suspicions are true, you do owe him for the night you encountered the spawn, and the night before that, when you came across Petras. Being indebted to him feels like another battle in itself, and you’re not sure if you want it to be true or not. You don’t have the heart to tell her that.

So instead, you snatch your dagger from where you’d last placed it down and march for the door.

“Tav, please, don’t leave like this,” Gale reaches for your arm, but you yank it away.

“I’m going to bring him back,” you say, but it’s more of a demand. A tone you rarely use toward your own companions, but you can’t bring yourself to care at the moment.

Lae’zel hisses as you’re halfway out the door. “You are a fool to be unable to see that he does not care for you.”

He had saved you. A person who does not care about you does not bother to save you.

You clutch the dagger close to your heart, and you ignore how cold it feels in your hand.

By the time you’ve run through most places he could possibly be, you finally arrive at the Sharess’ Caress, panting as you stare up at the taunting aura of the building. You don’t know how many hours have passed since you left the house–-perhaps days, or even minutes, but every second feels like a million more than it should. You push through the door, barely managing to catch your breath, as you’re immediately greeted with the aroma of a thousand different perfumes.

The fumes make you scrunch your nose, and you’re quickly slammed into the last memory of entering this place. The woman at the front desk, the windows draped with curtains to prevent most if not all the light spilling into its halls, the music echoing from the more private rooms for personal viewing…

You hate it all.

“Ah, savior, you’re back!” a voice says, and you flinch at it. One of the drow twins, Nym, waves you toward her, but you don’t budge. “It’s been months since you last rejected my advances, hasn’t it? I suppose you couldn’t resist yourself and came back-”

“Where is he,” you spit, your voice wavering. You don’t mean to be rude to her, truly, but your patience is close to nothing, and you don’t know how much longer you can go before you have to take a rest and return to the house in shame. At the very least, you have to drag Astarion back with you.

She pauses, then motions upstairs. It seems she understands the urgency in your tone because she steps out of the way, urging you forward. So with a nod of acknowledgment, you march up the stairs towards one of the more luxurious private rooms.

Door after door, you’re greeted with an empty room. Only when you come to the final room do you hold your breath, fist nearly shaking from merely knowing he’s on the other side. Lae’zel’s words echo in your head like an insistent tadpole, unable to force it to leave or quiet down. You opt to overrule it with the sound of the door swinging open.

There’s a woman.

Though you manage to release your breath when you see that she’s fully clothed, the collar of her shirt is pulled back, revealing her neck for the spawn who has his fangs bared inches from her skin. She doesn’t seem to notice you despite the ruckus you made entering the room, too lost in the man in front of her, but he does. His attention flickers to you and stays there, not showing an ounce of surprise as if he expected you here.

With lidded eyes locked with your own in a trance you can’t break ahold of, he sinks his teeth into her neck.

He doesn’t break eye contact as he drinks and all you can do is stare in disgust, eyes wide but your legs unwilling to unplant themselves from the wooden floors. Your sandwich from earlier threatens to hurl the other way, and your nails dig into the skin of your palms, nearly breaking the skin. You’re at a complete loss of words, and you feel nothing but shame knowing that rather than the distaste you should feel, you feel something else.

Bitter. Not jealous, no, not quite, but really damn bitter.

He tears away from her neck, blood staining his lips as you remain planted in the ground. The woman gasps, and her hands fly up to her neck. Even now, he’s only staring at you.

“Thank you, dear customer,” she rasps gratefully, despite how pale she looks. He doesn’t even acknowledge her until he wants her out.

“You can leave now.”

She looks back and forth between you and him, surely noticing how he doesn’t seem remotely fazed at how you’re glaring daggers at him and nods, scrambling to leave.

The door shuts with a loud thud.

You watch him reach to wipe at his mouth, your voice hollow and cold. “Are you done?”

“Clearly, seeing as I made her leave.”

“We agreed that you wouldn’t drink from people.”

“We agreed I wouldn’t drink from people in the house,” he corrects, pacing toward the window where the moonlight had illuminated him as he drank from the woman’s neck. “I kept my word.”

He leans against the windowsill, and you take a step toward him, still keeping a hefty distance. “She’ll report you to the Duke. My word won’t be much help if he insists to throw you in a cell.”

“This is a house of pleasure, my dear. Nothing gets out of here if you have enough gold,” he laughs, throwing his head back. “How else do you think I’ve been getting my share of blood if I hadn’t gone around murdering the innocent?”

Your teeth grit together, eyes narrowed as you scan the state he’s in. Despite appearing nearly dead just hours earlier, his skin now seems to glow against the moon, the bags under his eyes having gone missing and leaving a wide grin on his face instead. If this was a few months ago, you’d admire him, but not now. You want to punch it off.

“You don’t look happy, darling,” he fakes a frown and makes his way closer to you. You swear your heart stops for a moment when he brushes his knuckles against your cheek. “Is it that woman? Are you jealous?”

You slap his hand away.

“Gods, is this all a game to you?” you blurt in exasperation. “I’m trying to understand you, Astarion, I really am. And all you keep doing is–”

“There is nothing to understand. This is just who I am.”

“I’m not a fool. Will you, for once in your life, please drop this mask and just talk to me?”

“What in the hells makes you so sure I’m lying? I must have made quite the impression on you when we still considered ourselves allies.”

You try not to flinch at that.

“You were there that night,” you say, but it comes out like a question. “When I was attacked by the other spawn. And the night before that with that guy from the tavern. You killed him without even drinking his blood.”

At this, the tone of your conversation shifts, at least from his end. His eyes darken as you take a step back. “Who told you that?”

“Petras.”

He seems taken aback for a moment but quickly recovers. You wish you could do the same. And the laugh that escapes his throat sounds like he pities you. “My dear, I didn’t realize you were so naive.”

You blink.

“He’s deceived you, I’m afraid. Probably covering for his own arse to stay on your good side. What spawn would want to risk pissing off an adventurer capable of killing a vampire lord? In the time we were apart, I’ve done everything in my power to avoid you at all costs. You can see why, can’t you?” he gestures to the air between you. “I mean, look at us, darling. We’re no good around each other.”

It hurts more than you’d like to admit, but your stubborn streak forces you to keep going. “That night with the spawn-”

“I must say that I’m rather flattered that I was the last thing you saw at the hands of death,” he laughs, and it sends shivers down your spine. “But I’m afraid that too was a gift from death. I, myself, had no part in it.”

“But why were you there then?” you’re starting to sound desperate. You want to slap your hand over your mouth but something tells you that would be even more humiliating. “Why were you with the Duke in the morning?”

“I was captured by the Duke days before he brought me to you. He spent the time interrogating me, and in the end, I gave him nothing, as I will do with you. I only found out about your—predicament when he did, and he decided you’d fare better in gathering information I do not have.”

You would’ve preferred to die in battle than to feel the crushing feeling of your own chest. You want to curl up in a hole and never crawl out.

“Now, is that all?” he asks, drinking in your defeat like a trophy he wished he could place on the top shelf of a glass cabinet. “Any other accusations you have to throw at me?”

Lae’zel had been right. Shadowheart had been right. All of them had been right, except for you. This was far more than you could handle, and you had been foolish to think otherwise. The hope you held onto now dwindles into a small flame that can easily be blown out by a few selective words--those of which he has full authority over.

“Have you always been this cruel?” Tears threaten to well in your eyes, but you force them back, veiling them with all the strength left in your voice. Now, you just sound angrier. “You’ve never been a good man, but you weren’t a heartless one either.” You wonder if maybe that was a lie as well. The loving words, the soft touches, the gentle eyes. That perhaps the guise you’d thought you’d seen through was not a guise at all.

“Is that what it was then?” his face falls. “Did you stop the ritual to keep a feeble man by your side?”

Feeling is not weakness, you want to scream at him, but you know it'll do no good.

“Ascension would have changed you, and it’s not for the better. You know what Raphael said. I just did what I had to for the sake of your safety.”

“Power would have made me safe. From the world, from the sun, from people like you. Now I rot away in this destroyed city with nothing to feed on but stolen cattle and rats.”

“You’re not listening to me. You would’ve lost your soul, and become like Cazador–”

His composure cracks at that. “Don’t you dare speak of that devil.”

“Don’t give me reasons to.”

The air is thick enough to slice with your dagger. With squinted eyes, he scans your face before continuing slowly.

“Darling,” despite the term of endearment, it doesn’t sound endearing at all. “You are searching for sympathy from a man who does not have any left to give.”

“You did have sympathy,” you hiss. “With Yenna, with Shadowheart, with the owlbear, with Lae’zel, Karlach, and the rest of the damn city, you did. It wasn’t obvious, but you felt for them.”

“Perhaps once. For a fleeting moment. That moment is not now.”

There’s nothing that you can say to that, really. All you can do is stare at him, eyes wide and unable to choke out words, crying, screaming, anything. But now, the dagger you carry everywhere feels twice as heavy and twice as cold. You want to search his face for any signs of deception, but you’re too afraid of what you might find, so you force your eyes to the ground.

Silence hangs in the air like a chain tightening its hold around your lifeline.

“I was fine,” you whisper, face burning. “I was getting better. I was getting over you, and you came back.”

His hands limply fall to his sides. “You are the one who refuses to let me go.”

When you don’t respond, afraid your voice will crack and give out the last of the thin thread that holds you together, he steps toward you again, now a mere feet away. All you can see, and what you’re willing to see, is his chest as he breathes out his words. “Do you hate me?”

You have no idea, truly.

“You should.”

Lifting your head, you focus on his eyelashes rather than his eyes. Doing otherwise might provoke you to do something you’ll regret. “Do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Hate me.”

The pause feels like another lifetime as your heart pounds rapidly, your palms feeling too clammy, and your throat too dry. He blinks, slowly.

“Yes. More than anyone."

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roosterforme · 11 months

Text

The Younger Kind Part 37 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley realized on the way to the lake house that he hadn't taken a vacation in years, but he already knew he was going to want to go on so many more with you and Noah. And you weren't going to let Bradley get away with an omission of precious information. In fact, you had several things to surprise him with as a result.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, smut, pregnancy talk, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5300 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

The next morning while you made breakfast for yourself and your boys, you could hear Bradley on the phone in the living room. You stopped mixing up the bowl of pancake batter just in time to hear him say, "Hey Tracy, can you go ahead and finalize that updated copy of my will?" There was a short pause, and then he said, "Right, but if any assets need to be combined later, we can discuss it then. We can both come in and meet with you."

You wondered if he was talking about you, but then his voice got a little quieter at the same time Noah bounded into the kitchen. "Mommy, I don't want to go to the lake," he said, face practically crumbling into tears.

"Why not?" you asked, setting everything aside to kneel and pull him in for a hug. "What's wrong? I thought you were so excited."

Then he started crying as he asked, "Are there big bears at Big Bear Lake? I don't want to see any big bears."

"Oh, sweet Noah," you whispered as you hugged him and tried not to laugh. Then it dawned on you that you actually weren't sure if there were any bears there or not. You knew it was a good three hour drive from San Diego up into the mountains, but you hadn't even considered that.

When Bradley walked into the kitchen to see you and Noah on the floor and his son in tears, he asked, "What's going on?"

You covered Noah's ears and whispered, "Are there big bears at Big Bear Lake?"

Bradley laughed for a few seconds, and then his expression turned contemplative. "I... actually have no idea. I'm going to go ahead and call Maverick." Then he was gone again, and you were left to try to coax Noah over to the kitchen table with the promise of some pancakes covered in melted butter.

You were wiping his tears while the batter sizzled on the griddle. "It's okay. Daddy won't let anything bad happen to us."

"I know," he muttered, sniffling.

Bradley poked his head back into the kitchen. "It's very unlikely, especially this time of year," he said with a shrug.

"What does that mean?" Noah asked, and you were afraid the tears would be back as you flipped the pancakes.

If they wanted you to be the mom, then you were going to go ahead and be the mom here. "It means you have absolutely nothing to worry about, okay? Now do you want to eat your breakfast on the red plate or the orange plate?" you asked, holding up both options. Noah pointed at the red plate, and Bradley walked in and kissed your forehead.

"Good save," he whispered. "You're a natural." He ran his hand along your tummy with a wink, and you felt yourself flush with heat.

"You get the orange plate that nobody else wants," you told him with a breathy giggle. "Now go sit."

He did as he was told, and when you handed him his plate and a larger one with a stack of pancakes on it, he started to get one ready for Noah. "After this, I'll pack up the car and we can head out."

"Sounds good," you replied, adding a pancake to your own plate. You had discreetly packed some snacks for Noah on top of the box of items you didn't want Bradley to see, so you thought it was fine for him to pack the car. Once you were done eating, you took Noah into the living room and watched Bradley cart bag after bag and box after box out to the driveway.

He was looking a little sweaty when he came back inside one last time. He took you by the hand and scooped Noah up as he said, "Can't forget to pack these two." He led you outside and kissed Noah all over his face while he laughed hysterically. After Noah was buckled in and reassured that you had packed him ants on logs to eat during the drive, Bradley was pulling away from the house.

Once he was on the highway and you had started up the kid friendly playlist, he sighed. "I'm so happy you made a playlist for Noah so I don't have to listen to the Sesame Street soundtrack or something equally egregious."

"Isn't Sesame Street from the '70s? Just like you?" It was so hard not to laugh as you asked him that.

"Funny," he deadpanned. "I was born in 1984. You know how old I am."

"Do I?" you asked, your voice taking on an accusatory edge as Noah asked you to hand him more snacks.

"Mmm," Bradley hummed as he drove. You and he held hands, and you offered to drive if he got tired. "I'll be fine," he promised softly. "Why don't you just relax? It looks like Noah is about to doze off."

"Okay, Daddy." You squirmed down in your seat until your cheek was resting on his hand, and then you fell asleep, too.

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

Bradley tried his best to drive one handed up the rough trail toward the house, but he really needed two hands at this point. His right hand also happened to be asleep from the way you'd cuddled up with your head on him. "Princess," said, wiggling his fingers beneath you. "I need my hand back."

You moaned as you sat up, but when you looked out the window, you gasped. "It's beautiful here!" The early afternoon sunlight was reflecting off the lake and the mountains beyond. It was stunning, and Bradley realized it had been years since he'd taken any proper time off from work that didn't involve a day at home with Noah while he was too sick for daycare.

"If you enjoy this weekend together, you're going to have to make sure I take some vacation time. Because I actually never do."

"Is this some sort of joke? Of course, I'm going to love this weekend! I get to spend it with my boys! And wait... are you telling me you've never taken Noah to Disneyland?"

"Never."

"Daddy!" you complained loudly. "I thought you were a good parent!"

Bradley laughed as he looked for the correct driveway. "Clearly we needed you, Baby. You make us better."

He could practically feel you preening next to him as he put on his turn signal and pulled up the long driveway. "You need to take that sweet child to Disneyland. And you need to get him a dog," you said, kissing his cheek as Bradley pulled up next to Penny's car.

"So this has nothing to do with you wanting to go to Disneyland and you wanting to get a dog?"

"Not at all," you said, but you were smiling. "This is about what's best for the child."

"Right," he said once the engine was turned off. Then he kissed you, wrapping his hand around your neck before letting his fingers dip down into your shirt to toy with your bra strap. "Hey," he murmured against your lips.

"Hmm," you hummed, pulling his lip between yours and nibbling softly. God he just wanted to take you inside for some uninterrupted sex, but he knew he'd have to get through the afternoon and evening first.

"I love you," he whispered, running his fingers down to cup you through your bra.

"Daddy?" Noah called from the backseat, and you broke the kiss immediately.

"Yeah, Bub?" Bradley asked, his eyes still on you as you smiled at him. He couldn't seem to help himself; thoughts of diamond rings and the perfect proposal were always near the surface now. He kissed your nose and then turned to look at Noah.

"Don't let the bears come out, okay?" he asked softly, a smudge of peanut butter on his cheek.

"I won't," he promised, and you were already climbing out of the Bronco and walking around to get Noah. Bradley was just so impressed with the way you pulled a wet wipe out of your purse to wipe Noah's hands and face before you got him out of the car. You always had everything under control in a way that he just never seemed to be able to do alone.

"We'll be inside saying hi to everyone," you called over your shoulder, and Bradley was left to unload everything. Every time he carried bags inside the house, he could hear everyone talking and laughing. When he finally made his way into the sprawling kitchen where everyone else had congregated, Penny rushed over to give him a hug.

"Pete and I are so happy the three of you could come!" she said, giving him a tight squeeze. Amelia was chasing Noah around the room while you talked to Maverick. The house was beautiful, and he finally felt relaxed.

"Thanks for inviting us," he replied as Maverick kissed your cheek and headed toward Bradley.

"Grab your sunglasses. It's time to test out the boat."

"Boat?" Bradley asked. And about five minutes later, he was holding on tight to the side of a speedboat as Maverick drove it around the lake.

"This thing is fast!" Bradley shouted over the engine. The man was addicted to pushing things to the limit, and Bradley would have to make sure he was driving the boat if Noah came with them next time.

Maverick finally eased off the throttle once they were out in the middle of the lake, and Bradley was able to let go of his death grip on the boat. "Grab a beer," Maverick said, gesturing to the small cooler he brought along. "So, tell me, Bradley, you going to make that girl a permanent fixture?"

Bradley laughed as he opened a can and took a sip. "The thing is, she's pretty much been a permanent fixture since the beginning, at least as far as Noah is concerned."

Maverick nodded and opened his own beer. "I heard him calling her his mom."

"Yeah," Bradley replied, pushing his sunglasses up his nose as his brow creased. "I encouraged that. Sometimes I don't know if I'm doing the right thing. Like ever. But that felt right."

"Well, if you're keeping her around, and you plan on marrying her, then she really is his mom."

Bradley thought better than to mention his updated will, but he nodded. "Been thinking about it a lot, actually. I'm going to propose soon. In a few more weeks, we will have known each other for six months. Noah and I are sure about her, and that seems like a good amount of time to wait before buying a ring."

"That sounds like a very solid plan."

Bradley smiled at his dad's best friend. "Don't you dare tell Penny. She talks too much," Bradley warned.

"I won't."

"I want to surprise her and make everything perfect." He already had some ideas, but in his mind, you deserved perfection. You'd put up with just being his babysitter for way too long while he tried to convince himself you weren't the one for him. And you'd dealt with Meredith like you would have protected Noah with your life. You'd be the best mom, and Bradley wanted you to be his wife. He was thirty seven now. He knew you were the one. It was time.

Luckily, he was able to convince Maverick to let him drive the boat back to the dock, and he took things at a much slower pace. He passed a few other people out boating on the way back and decided he'd bring you and Noah out with him tomorrow or on Sunday when it was supposed to be even warmer.

On the walk back up to the house, Bradley's steps slowed as he asked, "Were those lights hanging up like that before?"

Maverick looked at the strings of sloppily hung twinkle lights all over the porch and scratched his chin. "I don't think so?"

"This was definitely not here earlier," Bradley remarked when he opened the front door to reveal an eight foot tall Christmas tree in the middle of the living room. It looked like someone had thrown strands of lights at it from across the room, and there was Christmas music playing. "What the hell?"

"Happy birthday!"

Bradley and Maverick both turned toward the kitchen where Noah was sitting on the island and the three women were standing. You looked absolutely delighted with everything that was going on as you waved them in.

"What's going on, Baby?" he asked as you walked over and took him by the hand.

"It's your birthday party! Mav's too!"

"Why is everything decorated for Christmas?" he asked with a laugh, because you, Penny and Amelia clearly thought this was normal. And Noah was giggling as he colored in a Christmas coloring book.

"It's Christmas in July!" you explained, still leaving so many unanswered questions.

"Apparently the house is a popular holiday rental," Penny added as Mav hugged her. "And all of the Christmas decorations were already here, so we just rolled with it."

Bradley pulled you tight to him, careful to keep his hands on only the most appropriate of body parts. "My birthday was a month ago. When I was deployed."

"Yeah, thanks for letting me know," you said sarcastically, lightly smacking his cheek before kissing it and pushing your fingers into his hair. "I had no idea until I saw your driver's license out last week. You deprived yourself of a proper party, so now you get Christmas in July."

"And Maverick's birthday is in August," Bradley added with a huge smile.

"We don't play by the rules," Amelia said. "We have Christmas cookies to decorate and a movie to watch."

So Bradley spent the evening of what actually wasn't his thirty seventh birthday licking frosting off your cheek while you laughed and then holding Noah during the movie Elf. It seemed absolutely ridiculous as the oversize French doors were open to let in the summer air and the sounds of crickets chirping. It was also somehow exactly perfect, and it reminded him that he was allowed to have all these things in his life now that you were there. You'd probably want to do things like celebrate his birthday every year and decorate the house. And Noah would get to benefit from all of it.

"I want another birthday movie," Noah said as he yawned uncontrollably.

"Not tonight," Bradley told him as he carried him to the small bedroom where you'd already unpacked his things for the weekend. He changed Noah into pajamas and read the dinosaur book you'd left out on the dresser, and pretty soon his son was sound asleep.

It wasn't too late yet; Bradley could still hear the others out in the main living space, but he decided to see if you'd gone to the bedroom already. "Princess?" he called as he walked into the pretty wood paneled room that had a view of the lake and the last bits of purple sky as it got darker. Then you came strolling out of the en suite bathroom in nothing but a tiny lace bra and matching panties.

"Are you ready for your birthday present?" you asked sweetly, draping your arms around his neck and kissing his lips.

"Oh, I like my birthday present," he murmured as he ran his hands down your back to cup your ass.

You kissed along his neck and whispered, "You could have had some special treatment sooner if you told me when your birthday was, Daddy."

He grunted, both from the feel of your lips on his skin and because he knew you'd find out when it was eventually. "I just feel a little self-conscious sometimes about my age."

Your mouth paused, and then you were looking up at him like you were embarrassed. "But I tease you all the time."

"I know," he replied right away. "I know, and I love it when you do. It's not that." You combed your fingers through his hair and gave him a moment to collect his thoughts. "I'm just more than twelve years older than you. Sometimes it seems like a lot."

"That doesn't matter at all," you replied, holding eye contact with him. "In fact, I think I like it more this way. It's so much better being with someone who is serious about me and has his life together." One hand trailed down to his chest as you added, "It's almost flattering, the fact that you love me."

"I do," he said, watching your hand slip lower down his body. "I love you."

You smiled softly as your hand rested on the fly of his pants. "Happy birthday." You undid the front of his jeans and pulled them down to his thighs along with his underwear. He was semi hard and getting harder by the second as you bit your lip and sank down to your knees. And then you opened your mouth so Bradley could set his cock right there on your glossy bottom lip.

"That looks pretty," he muttered, already breathing harder as you ran your tongue along his tip. You wrapped your lips around him and sucked gently, eyes bright and cheeks hollow. His cock was throbbing for you now, but he was enjoying the way you weren't taking him deep yet.

He kept his hands soft on your face, stroking his thumb along your chin and jaw. And then you reached up with both hands and wrapped them around his base as you withdrew him and kissed along his shaft. "I love you, Daddy." Then you took him deep in one go until you were gagging and he was seeing stars. His hands were rougher now at the back of your head, holding you in place while he grunted and groaned.

When you moaned around him, he released his grip on your head, and you popped him out of your mouth with a little gasp, and some strings of saliva dripped down to your chest. "More?" you asked, and he just nodded as you took him deep over and over again. Every time you gagged, you let him push a little harder, and you had tears in your eyes as you pulled him free and abruptly stood to kiss him.

Your tongue was in his mouth, and Bradley's hands gripped your ass as you ground against him. "Mmm, Bradley," you whined. "Ready for your present?"

He tucked his fingers inside your lace underwear and teased at your holes as your eyes went a little wider. "Is this not my present right here?" he grunted, trying to decide how he wanted to get off.

You shook your head in a jerky motion and whispered, "Not exactly..." Your voice was breathless and broken as you said, "If you think we can financially support a baby, and it's what you really want, then I'll let you flush my birth control down the toilet."

Bradley was gaping at you. A baby. With you. No more birth control. "Are you serious right now?"

"Yes," you replied. "I'm ovulating and I skipped my pill yesterday, and I want you to fuck a baby into me."

Bradley tipped his head back and moaned at how perfect that sounded coming from you. "Where are the pills?" he asked.

"Bathroom counter," you replied, and he kissed you so hard you were clinging to him.

Bradley hauled you into the bathroom with him where he popped each remaining pill out of the packaging with unsteady fingers and his erection hanging out of his jeans. You were squeezing your thighs together and whining softly as he swept them into the toilet and flushed it before he rounded on you.

"You want me to fuck a baby into you?" he asked, voice dark and rough.

"Yes."

"Then I'll fuck a baby into you." He picked you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, and Bradley carried you to the bed. He set you down gently on your back and marveled at how perfect you looked for him. You were playing with your tits and already getting a little loud as you watched him get undressed.

And then he was on top of you, his cock aching to be inside you. He just kept thinking about you all pregnant and swollen as he pushed the lace covering your perfect pussy to the side and thrust into you hard and sure.

"Bradley!" you nearly screamed, scrambling beneath him and clawing at his shoulders. But he didn't stop the steady powerful thrusts that pushed you down into the mattress. He had to bring one big hand up to cover your mouth as he grunted.

"Keep quiet, Baby. Unless you want everyone to know how good it feels when I try to knock you up."

You nodded and moaned against his palm, but he just fucked you harder. Your legs were shaking as you spread them wider for him, and your fingers were tangled in the bedding. When your tits bounced free from that tiny bra, Bradley put his mouth on you, pulling your nipples gently one at a time.

Soft squeaking noises and moans escaped you as he pressed his lips to your ear. "I'm gonna cum. You always make me cum. You always give me everything, don't you? Don't you, Princess? I'm gonna give you a ring, and you'll give us a baby. I'll give you anything."

You were shaking all over as he rammed deep and spilled himself inside you. He was panting hard when he slipped his hand away from your mouth, and then your lips were on his in the sweetest kisses.

"I'm sorry I was rough," he whispered, running his fingers along your skin. "You okay?"

"I'm so good, Daddy. That was hot. I hope you liked your birthday present."

Bradley eased his body away from yours a few inches and gazed down to where you and he were still so perfectly connected. "Not sure if you or the unprotected sex was the actual gift, but either way, I liked my birthday present a lot."

You giggled as he pulled out of you and rolled onto his back, keeping you close. "You said something about a ring."

"Did I?" he mumbled. He knew he was rambling while he fucked you, but he wasn't sure exactly what he'd been saying. Apparently it was a lot.

"Mmhmm," you hummed as he ran his fingers along your lace bra, but you didn't push for more. "So what's on the agenda for the rest of the weekend? And when are you going to get us a dog? And when are we taking Noah to Disneyland?"

Bradley narrowed his eyes at you playfully. "Boating and barbecues for the rest of the weekend. And as for the dog and Disneyland? Just let me enjoy my fake Christmas-birthday in peace. Because I'm sure it will be my last one without a dog who is constantly bugging me to let it outside or to play with it."

You settled down on top of him, placing a kiss to his pecs with a smirk. "That's absolutely correct. You just enjoy yourself while you still can."

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

When Bradley kissed you the next morning and whispered, "I'll be back. Going out to buy fishing bait with Noah and Mav," you just grunted in response. The sun was barely up, and as you rolled over, you could feel the delicious aftermath of the way Bradley had fucked you so hard. You were tired and a little sore in all the right places. Very carefully, you extracted yourself from the bed and padded along the floor to the bathroom.

He had flushed your birth control instantly, and you giggled just thinking about it. There was no turning back now, and you were so excited. You already had a family, and like Bradley, the idea of adding to it was enough to make you melt inside.

Since you didn't have to rush to get Noah ready, you took your time with your hair and makeup even though you were just going out on the lake for the day. You changed into your purple bikini and slipped your purple sundress over it, both of which you had purchased using your credit card.

When you made your way out to the kitchen, Penny was assembling sandwiches, and you could tell she was wearing her bathing suit, too. "Where's Amelia?" you asked, washing your hands so you could help her.

"She's a teenager," Penny replied with a laugh. "She sleeps until noon. You'll see one day when Noah is older."

You pressed your lips together, because you weren't so far removed from those years yourself. But you also felt butterflies in your tummy as you thought about the fact that Penny stated so confidently that you'd be there when Noah was older. And now you were hoping you'd be there with Bradley for more than one teenage kid.

"He's so sweet," you said as you cut the crust off one of the sandwiches for Noah. "Don't remind me that he'll be a surly teenager one day."

Penny eyed you carefully. "You'll handle it well. You already do. I still can't believe you started out as the babysitter, while Bradley was delusionally going on dates with other women. And I can't believe I didn't notice the way he looked at you at first."

You ducked your head. "I didn't notice for a few weeks myself. I just knew I was already attached to the two of them."

"We're back!" Bradley called out, carrying Noah into the kitchen. And he was immediately looking at you just like he always did, and you couldn't help but smile.

"And we have worms!" Noah said, holding onto a little styrofoam container.

"And more beer," Maverick added as he set two six packs down on the counter.

"Well we have sandwiches and ants on logs and lemonade and kisses," you said, taking the worm container from Noah and kissing his cheek and then Bradley's.

Amelia finally emerged from her bedroom as Noah started whining that he wanted to go on the boat and go fishing. "I'll take him down to the marina now so he can look at the water," Bradley said, but you shook your head.

"I'll take him. You help carry the coolers," you said, taking Noah by the hand and leading him past the Christmas tree. "We'll meet you all down there."

You grabbed your tote bag which was filled with coloring books and other activities for Noah, and then you and he walked down toward the boats while you sang his favorite dinosaur song together. And then you realized you didn't actually know which boat was yours for the weekend, so you led Noah out onto the long dock to wait for the others.

"Make sure you hold my hand. The water is really deep here," you reminded him as he peeked over the side to look into the water.

"Where are the fish?" he asked as he looked up at you. At least he was no longer asking about the bears.

"I think the fish are out in the middle of the lake," you told him.

"Well, how do we catch them? With our hands?"

"Oh, sweet Noah, I love you so much. The boat has fishing rods."

"What does that mean?" he asked, still looking down into the water.

You looked around at the boats docked in the slips and pointed to one behind you. "Fishing rods are those long things sticking up into the air on that boat. Come look." You led Noah down the narrower wooden dock between two large boats so he could see what you were talking about, and that's when you saw a man about Bradley's age looking down at you and Noah.

"Hi there," he said with a wink as he looked you up and down. And now you felt like your cute little dress was nonexistent as you awkwardly stood there looking up at him.

"We were just checking out your fishing rod," you told him, but he wasn't looking at Noah at all as he grinned. And you realized that it sounded like you were talking about his penis, and you wished you could just disappear.

He jumped down onto the dock with a laugh. "Oh yeah? I'll let you touch it if you want."

"No thanks," you replied with a grimace. You turned to leave, your hand still gripping Noah's, but the man headed you off. And now you were looking around for the others, because he was blocking the narrow path with his body.

"Now just hang on a minute," he said, pulling his sunglasses off, presumably so he could see you better. "You look beautiful. What do they call you?"

Noah looked up at him and said, "She's my Daddy's Princess."

The man was finally looking down at Noah, and you didn't like that either. So you mumbled something as your heart pounded, and you shoved past him, making sure Noah didn't walk too close to the edge of the dock. He kept calling out to you as you walked along a different part of the pier, but a moment later you could see Bradley walking down in the distance holding one end of a long cooler and sipping a beer.

"There's Daddy and Mav," Noah said, and you picked him up to rush in that direction.

"Let's go get him." They were setting the cooler down next to a boat that was smaller than the other one with the huge fishing rods, and thankfully it was in the other direction as well.

"Hey, Bub!" Bradley called out, and when you got closer, he took his son from your arms as you were slightly out of breath.

"We didn't know which boat to go to," you told him.

"It's this little white one," he said, kissing your cheek. "You look beautiful."

"That's what the other man said," Noah told him.

Bradley's brow creased instantly. "What other man?" he asked, looking around everywhere.

"It was nothing," you said, but Noah pointed toward the other boat immediately.

"In the big, blue boat. Mommy was looking at his fishing rod, and he told her she was beautiful, and I said she's my Daddy's Princess."

Bradley kissed his cheek, and said, "Good job, Noah. She's your Mommy and my Princess." He set Noah down inside the boat where Maverick immediately started getting his life jacket buckled before he helped Penny and Amelia onboard as well.

But Bradley had one of his big hands on your hip as he slid his aviators down on his nose and smirked. "You were looking at a man's fishing rod?" he asked softly, an edge of annoyed humor in his tone.

"Oh, come on," you said, rolling your eyes and laughing. "I wanted Noah to see what a fishing rod looks like, and there were a bunch lined up on that boat."

Bradley nodded and kissed your forehead. "We've got some fishing rods on this boat, and I have a special one just for you."

You bit your lip and tried not to laugh. When Bradley said it, you absolutely wanted to learn more. When that other guy said it, you wanted to jump in the water and try to swim back to San Diego. "Really, Daddy?" you asked in your most eager voice. "When can I try it out?"

He groaned softly and cupped your face, kissing you softly as he said, "Try to behave for a couple of hours, and it's all yours."

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

Welcome! We are in our baby making era now! Even more lake house goodness coming soon! Also, if Noah sees a bear, he will never forgive Bradley and Princess. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 38

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955 notes · View notes

kittykattropicanna · 8 months

Note

girlfriend, i love how we jumped straight to marriage with mechanic!Simon but I'd love to know a bit more about the phase before he managed to lock down his girl for good.

What if, her ex comes looking for her? Some prim and proper, sleek wolf of wallstreet business typa guy appears at Price's Body Shop, recognizing her car and asking about her. No idea how he found her because he usually doesn't go into these parts of town, maybe someone saw her car, maybe she forgot to turn off / delete her location app.

Sees her at the shop and tells her to come home, this part of town is no place for her, he's sorry, the other woman didn't mean anything, he wasn't serious about kicking her out, whatever, you know the drill.

She's not impressed, unfazed, cool as a cucumber because her mind is filled with her new boy toy mechanic!Simon and she keeps drifting off to last night's memory 🤭

Listen, I love a woman who stands up for herself but you really can't expect your possessive new self proclaimed boyfriend and his crew to watch silently while your ex is trying sweet talk and win you back right in front of them, right?

Also, why is Simon being so weird after? There is nothing to worry about, she thinks he's perfect and exactly what she never knew she wanted. I guess she needs to prove it to him by taking matters into her own mouth hands 🤭🤭 pamper him like no one before

Foaming at the mouth at this ask, I wrote the marriage ask before I got to this one because I really wanted to drive home how fast he preposes, but I would love to elaborate about your relationship before he preposes, you’re in a very valuable position and absolutely cling to him for support :((((( it did change a couple of small things to help the story flow better, I hope you don’t mind ;)

Si knows from the start that you're the one :((( you guys act like you've been together since high school even though you've only know each other for a couple weeks :33333 But when your friends start calling, begging you to come back home? telling you that Si is manipulative and a bad guy that's taken advantage of your venerable state >:( of course he gets insecure :((( then your ex shows up?? a man that's the complete opposite of Si, he really starts to doubt himself :((((( lucky you can show him just how much you appreciate him with that mouth of yours ;))))

tw: loosing friends, controlling ex, possessive!Simon, insecure!Simon, sub!Simon (kinda?), insinuated violence, a lot of lore in this one??? so like porn with a plot??, smut, blowjob, face fucking, deep throating, L bomb (like twice??), talk of reader submitting to Si, there's just a lot going on tbh but baby...you're a giver and THATS for sure, basically you're just looking after your mannnnn and he loves you for it

Mechanic!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

Obviously your friends call after they hear you broke up with your ex, they can’t find you anywhere and start freaking the fuck out! they love you so much and they’re scared shitless!!!

They only found out you were even missing because you didn’t turn up to brunch on Thursday :((

They called you, and of course you didn’t answer….you were busy ;)))

That obviously raised some alarm bells for everyone straight away, so their next point of contact was obviously your ex!!

Then the reality hit…. You had been missing since Monday night, he kicked you out after a bad fight and nobody had been able to get in contact with you……

Everyone obviously thinks worst case scenario. Car crash, kidnapping,…. maybe you ran away, or god forbid, something worse, maybe you weren’t even alive anymore, I mean, its been fucking days!!!

If someone were to have taken you, you could be out of the country by now, your body could already be decomposing somewhere never to be seen again, maybe they could have saved you if they new sooner :(((( got you the medical attention you needed before you succumb to your injuries…

Obviously everyone is going wild back home, freaking out and doing everything in their power to get in some kind of contact with you.

But no ;))))

As your phone buzzed and pinged with messages, vibrating on Si’s bedside table as he held your naked frame against his broad chest :3333

You were fine, more then fine actually :))))

“Don’t worry about tha’ baby, answer it later they’ll be fine” Si’s morning voice muffled into your hair, strong arms tightening his grip around your waist and his hard cock pressed up against your bare arse ;))

A couple days after Si saved you and towed your car, everything that happened hit you like a ton of bricks. You were kinda disoriented and fuzzy, still a little shaken by the experience and hadn’t really processed that you were in fact living with Simon now….

The warm feeling of toned arms wrapped around you and a hard chest against your back didn’t register it first….. but you never protested :333

Droopy eyelids snapping open ungodly wide when it all hit you :( like, holy shit, there was no way you’re actually doing this, there is no way you fucked a random mechanic, let him take you home, fell asleep in his bed and then just never left????…. that’s batshit crazy behaviour!

What made it even more jarring was from day one, when Si stirred awake he’d simply pulling you closer and kiss your temple like he’d been married to you for 30 years :3

There was no awkward small talk, no “you’ve overstayed your welcome now, i’ll drive you to a motel” or “what time do you think you’ll call a cab”, a simple kiss and a “how’d ya’ sleep princess” deep and groggy, a smirk on his lips as he kissed the back of your neck :)))

Your body relaxed instantly, for a man so big, there was a certain gentleness about him, a protective and calming aura he carried so effortlessly, you truly felt comfortable here…. It was such a strange experience but the idea of leaving his bed made you wince :(((

Even the morning routine you quickly created was natural!!

The tea and coffee lived on the top shelf of the cupboard, sitting at his two seater dining table Si happily watched your cute little arse poke out the bottom of his shirt :))) you had to hop a little bit to bring the tins forward, but all he could focus on was your bum and thighs jiggling >:((

He absolutely didn’t strategically place everything a shelf higher so he could see you do this exact thing the every morning….:333333

He was running unbelievably late for work but he couldn’t care less, the whole morning was filled with quick pecks and giddy smiles. From an outsiders prospective, nobody could guess you met a couple days ago :))))

Holding your waist as you make his lunch for him :)))) following every instruction perfectly :))))

Whispering “good girl” into your ear and kissing your neck gently as you pack his meal into his work bag, fat cock flush against your arse still concealed in his thick work pants, grinding slowly only relieving him slightly >:(

He wanted nothing more then to take you then and there, but the idea of you having to wait around for the rest of the day :((( thighs rubbing together and needy for him was wayyyy more appealing to come home to :( his such a meany

Leaving £100 on the kitchen counter for you, kissing you before he leaves, whispering into your lips to treat yourself :((

“You’ve had a long couple days sweethear’, get ya’ nails done for me, yeah? Get em’ pink or somthin’, okay?”

Obviously you’re memorised by this man at this point… how could you not be?

Agreeing with a slow nod and stars in your eyes as he kisses your nose

Nobody had ever looked at him like that before….

“That’s ma’ girl, i’ll be home by six”

When he finally rocked up at work, Price was pissed beyond belief, Gaz was working on multiple cars at a time due to his absence and Johnny looked like he could kill him as he sat in Si’s office, a line of annoyed customers leading outside the shop.

Soap new absolutely nothing about quotes and insurance claims and all this other bullshit that Simon dealt with as the manager.

Gaz had a hundred questions for him about what he suggested for certain repairs, it was pure chaos!!

But Si couldn’t find it in himself to be stressed, walking into the shop with a shit eating grin, completely bricked up and care free :))))

He’d never been happier then in that moment.

But I want to fast forward to when your friends finally got a hold of you a week after you went missing….

It was the strangest surprise as well as their biggest relief when you answer.

You were completely fine, they could basically hear you smile through the phone……

You started banging on about how you met this amazing guy named Simon, how his a super gifted mechanic, a complete gentleman and how you’re both deeply in love and never been happier!!

Reassuring them that you’re absolutely fine, better then fine actually, you’re safe and loved and don’t plan on ever going back home

And all your girls are like

“Babe….you can’t be serious right now? You’re not in love, you’ve been gone a week! And did you say you moved in with him!? A fucking mechanic!? Have you lost your fucking mind??? What about your job??? What about the entire fucking life you built here?!!!”

And

“That’s it, give me the address right now, we are coming to get you immediately. You’re coming home and never talking to this weird fucking Simon guy ever again. Got it?”

Of course they don’t understand:((((( why would they!?

You’ve finally found your person, it doesn’t matter if you have known Si for a week or a thousand weeks. You’re not fucking leaving!

This courses massiveeeee tension in you’re now ex friendship group.

Half your girls think they should cut you off immediately, staying friends with you only means supporting the relationship and that’s something they’re absolutely not going to do >:(((

The other half think its important to keep in contact with you, they want to be there when you finally “come to your senses” and “need an out”, whatever that means :/….they even insisted on meeting Simon, just to sus out the situation and see what’s really going on, but of course you deny.

Some even try to convince you that your ex was way better for you then Si:((((( how everyone thought you would end up getting married eventually, how there’s still time to realise you’ve made a mistake, that your ex was more then willing to take you back and everything would go back to normal!!!

“Babe, this Simon guy is manipulative, okay? You’re emotional and vulnerable right now and his latched onto that knowing you’re going to cling to him for support. His taking advantage of you babe! I know you think you’re in love and that he says all the right things but its an act! Hello? Are you there? Can you fucking hear me!!??’

They’re just trying to ruin everything though >>:((((((

Your friends never saw how your ex treated you behind closed doors and they could never understand the connection you and Simon had :(

When Si came home from work to you wrapped up in a blanket and crying on the sofa, he was ready to kill whoever caused you so much pain….when he found out it was actually your friends, his heart ached for his poor girl :(((

“Listen to me petal, look me in the eyes, you don’ owe them anythin’, they jus’ don’t understand, alrigh’ don’t cry baby, come on”

Wrapping his big musealy arms, covering you in his post work sweat and musk as you cling to his oily work shirt :((((

Of course you end up cutting off your friends. They could never understand what you and Simon had, if they really cared about you, they’d at least act like they were happy for you, not rip into you and try and push the narrative that you’ve been “manipulated” and “taken advantage of” while in a “venerable state” ://

Si absolutely agreed as well :( you didn’t need to worry about them anymore, they’re in the past and you’re moving forward with your life, its not your fault they haven’t grown up yet ://

Plus!!!! He would love to introduce you to Prices wife and the other girls at the bar he regulars…. Sure they may be a little older and all have children but you’re such a mature girl :((( you’ll get along with them just fine :3

Its definitely not because he wants to bring you around his friends chubby babies, planting the seed in your mind subconsciously, or consciously about having your own little family ;)))

Start taking the steps to really integrate you in his life and friendship circles ;))))))

He knows what his doing :3

You get along with everyone so well too, girls wine nights, being invited over to friends houses for dinner <3

Simon tucking his hard cock into the waist band of his boxes as you bounce one of your friends babies on your hip and coo to them :((((

You would be such a good mama to his babies :( your genetics mixed with his would make the cutest little humans and the image of you pregnant that won’t leave his mind is starting to drive him absolutely fucking feral :(((

Life is so good for you and Si at the moment :((((( of course your stupid fucking ex would come around and try to ruin it for you…..all for him…..

Your ex couldn’t of been more different from Si :(

Clad in a business suit and ridiculously expensive watch, a clean haircut, pure leather business shoes and smelling of expensive cologne, he absolutely stuck out when his Tesla pulled into the shop carpark….

An obviously disgusted look on his face as he entered the front office, not trying to hide his disapproval as he looked at the chipped paint that peeled off the walls and the overwhelming smell of fuel that had seeped into everything within a 50 meter radius, buttoning his suit jacket and dramatically watching his step as he walked on the stained concrete that covered the front office floor :////

Your ex was such a pretentious prick >:( if it wasn’t high luxury, he’d look down on it like it was dirt :/

The thing is, he didn’t actually care where you were after he kicked you out, he just assumed you would end up on a friends couch or something. The idea that you would run off with a random “dirty” man and enter a relationship literally hours after he broke things off enraged him.

But everything changed when he got the news you were living with “Si” a couple hours away and you were “deeply in love” with him.

He played the “distressed”, “regretful” boyfriend to your friends, trying to get as much information out of them as possible under the pretence of “keeping you safe”

Yeah…..right :///

His ego couldn't handle it! How dare you just move on like he was nothing!!! sleep in another mans bed without regret and start a new life with him not even being an afterthought!!!!>:(

You were meant to be heartbroken!!! Turn up on his doorstep and beg for his forgiveness as he laughed in your face :((

But you just moved on?????

He wasn't having that.

You were supposed to worship him, not replace him with some piece of shit mechanic >:(

Your friends fed him a lot of useless information, But there was one sentence that tied it all together.

In the middle of your rant about how much you loved Simon, you mentioned he worked at “Price’s Motor Repairs”

Nobody had heard of any repair shop with that name from around the area, but it was enough information for your ex to track you down…

Alarm bells went off in Simons head when he saw him walk in. He wasn’t from around these parts, that much was certain, and the way his eyes snaked over his name tag and an almost cocky grin spread across his face, he new something was up and it wasn’t good.

Your ex definitely turned up at like 5:59, a minute before Si was meant to close just to make it as inconvenient as possible for him >:/

Si never asked about your ex, he didn’t want to know. He didn’t care what his name was or what he did for a living, all he new was that he was a dickhead and that was enough to put him off. You were his now, your ex wasn’t relevant :((((

It didn’t even cross Si’s mind that this guy could possibly be your ex. It was probably just some wanker that broke down while he was passing through. So he gritted his teeth and walked outside to check out this “broken” car

It felt like a wild goose chase. He claimed there was something wrong with the motor, he checked it out, there was nothing wrong. He then claimed his AC wasn’t working, he checked it out, there was also nothing wrong.

This went on for about 20 minutes before Simon snapped >:(

“There aint nothin’ wrong with ya’ car mate, get that fuck out of er’ before ya’ start wishin’ ya’ did”

Snarky and satisfied, your ex left without a fight, pulling out of the shop and parking far enough down the street that he could see Si pulling out of the shop and heading home…. Leading him to directly to you without a fight….

He followed behind at a safe distance. Far enough away that Si didn’t notice he was being followed, Poor Si was beyond tired, paired with the dim lighting of the sun going down, he didn’t even notice someone was tailing him:(( he was on autopilot :(

All he wanted to do was get home to you, eat his hot meal that you prepared for him and slug on the couch with a beer, you cuddled up against him and block the outside world out for the evening :((

But after arriving home, the second he sat down for dinner, three obnoxiously loud knocks echoed off the front door.

When you saw he didn’t move, you stood up to answer it for him

“Jus’ leave it lovie, can’t be anythin’ important this time of night”

You explained there was an older lady that lived a couple apartments down, she started developing dementia and was in the early stages, she could still look after herself but often forgot small things like buying eggs from the grocery store or how to turn the TV on, she asked you for help all the time!!! and you were sure it was just her!! Of course it was! Who else could it be!

Simon wasn’t convinced. There was no way an old lady could knock with that much force.

He followed behind you hesitantly watching you swing the door open with a smile, only to reveal the piece of shit that was at the shop an hour earlier…

Si was honestly confused as fuck for a second, only for it to all fall into place when this guy started calling you “baby” and demanding for you to come home…..

His first instinct was to pull you behind him, he was beyond shocked when your ex grabbed your wrist with force, making sure Si couldn’t move you out of his line of sight without hurting you…

“Baby, you are coming home now, look at the state of this.. this.. drug addicts flat! you’re coming home with me immediately, stop fucking resisting!” Your ex spat getting more and more enraged by the second

You couldn’t go home, you were home, Si was your home :( But before you could get a word out, Si had your ex by the bicep, the pure force of the grip sending him into cold blooded shock, muscles tensing he lets go of your wrist out of pure shock :((

“Get inside n’ lock the door” he mumbled lowly before slamming it so hard the framework shook violently, you swore the hinges could of given way :((((

Once Si finally returned, you could tell there was something wrong :( something about the way he wasn’t all over you like normal, there was a purposeful distance he put between the two of you, almost like he didn’t want you there :((

After poking and prodding him, it all finally came out

“Ya’ know I could never give ya’ the life that he could doll…. All that fancy shit” a coldness behind his eyes, almost defeat taking over his expression :(

“I know I aint ya type baby, you’re one of them high class type, ya’ don’t belong down ‘ere with me….I’ll drive ya’ back in the mornin, okay? I’m not taken no for an answer, go start packin’’” :((((

He was so defeated, if you could see his heart you could of sworn it was ripped into separate pieces :((

He went on for a good 10 minutes like this, you know he was doing what he thought was in your best interest, but Jesus Christ did it sting :(((

Little did he know your ex was almost £50,000 in credit card debt, you payed for almost everything during the duration of your relationship :((( he never treated you to any sort of luxury like Si did :( never got you flowers or paid for your nails….

He truly thought that your ex had a one up on him…. That you would consider going back to him because of his “wealth”???

Getting off the couch and slowly sinking to your knees in front of him, you reach for the belt of his pants, slowly undoing his buckle :((

His mind is racing so much, so paranoid and distracted that he didn’t notice the sound of the metal being undone :((((

He always focused on your pleasure, making you feel wanted :(( it was your turn to appreciate him, with actions this time :333

Si completely stops mid sentence when your warm, delicate hand palms his soft cock :(((9

He looks down at you slowly, all worry leaving his body as he sees you down on your knees, submissive eyes looking up at him threw your eyelashes and pout on your face waiting for his reaction :(((

You could never leave Si :((( you needed a real man :(( you needed the man in front of you with his thighs spread wide and cock hardening right before your eyes :(((

Palming him agonisingly slow, he grinds against your touch desperate for more friction :((( you tell him how you’d never leave him :(((( how his the only one for you and you couldn’t survive in a world like this without him by your side looking after you the way he does :((

Soft grunts leaving his lips as he pleads with you to take out his length and stroke his now hard, aching cock >:(

“I know baby, I was stupid to think tha’, I know, jus’… jus’ pump it for me yeah?’” Growing increasingly desperate as you don’t follow his command >:( telling him you’re looking after him tonight and that he doesn't need to worry :(( how its his reward for being so big and strong, defending you from your ex and being a man :(( that all he needs to do is relax :((

He audibly whines, a sound you had never heard from him before, when you finally slip his girthy cock out of his boxes.. .

You smile up a him as you kiss his tip and squeeze your thighs together at just the thought of pleasing him and not receiving any physical pleasure yourself :)))))

Letting out a soft feminine giggle as pre cum covers your lips, Si having no choice but to sit helpless and watch the show you’re putting on for him :(((

He could absolutely take the lead if he wanted to, but something about you treating him, sucking his dick solely because you wanted to and not expecting anything in return was an offer you couldn’t turn down ;)

Teasing Si was fun but he deserved more tonight :((((( if it was up to you, lapping at his swollen tip for hours until he finally releases a desperate hot load onto your face would be a dream, but not tonight, Si gets everything tonight ;)

Slowly circling his leaky tip with your thumb, a soft groan falls from his lips as he sinks further into the couch :(((

Pumping him lightly, you place soft kisses from the top of his cock to his base :(((( Si bucking his hips and pleading with you threw his eyes just to suck it :((((( he tries so hard to hide his whines through deep groans but fails horribly :((( he was so tired tonight, emotionally and physically, any self control he would normally have was out the window :((

Taking your tongue, you lick from the base to the tip, salty sweat and pre cum filling your taste buds as your tongue glides up his vainy shaft :(

Si jerks forward a little at the sudden warm contact, throwing his head back as he eases into the warm sensation :3333

Without hesitation, you deep throat his 8 inch length, his tip hitting the back of your throat and your eyes watering instantly :((

Si’s callused hand instinctively grips your hair, rough grunts bounce off your apartment walls as he helped you set a ruthless pace, your mouth being abused and jaw aching from his sheer girth :(((

“That’s it Darlin’, fuck ya’ such a good girl for me, look at ya’ look at tha’ beautiful fuckin’ mouth taken’ me”

Holding your head still as he throat fucks you, your saliva dripping down your chin and onto the dirty cream carpet that covers the living room floor:(((

Seeing the small bump of his cock appear at the front of your neck with each brutal rut :(( your flushed cheeks and teary eyes make a small cocky smile spread across his face >:(

You were his! All his! Claiming your throat and having full control over how he fucks it makes his achy balls tighten as they slap against your chin :((

“That prick could never fuck you like I could, he’ll never feel ya’ fuckin throat again” he was so close to his release :((( Si was normally really good at holding off but the possessiveness of claiming your mouth with thick cum was pushing him over the edge in a matter of minutes :((((

Grabbing your hair tighter, he forcefully makes you deep throat his dick, your nose touching his pelvic bone and buried in his musky pubes <3 moans from your full mouth muffled by his cock shoved deep into your throat >:((

He cums hard…slow, deep thrusts as ropes of his salty seed run down your throat, you have no choice but to swallow his semen that his so politely given you :((

With each thrust, he lets out a quiet and strained “mine”. Its more to himself then you, reassuring himself that you were in fact his and his to keep :((

You remove your abused mouth from his cock, slowly pumping his now semi-hard dick with a dopey smile on your face, cum leaking out the corner of your mouth as you innocently look up at him and place a kiss on his swollen tip :))

You look so beautiful, covered in his cum and claimed :)

He leans down to kiss you, a thank you for what you did for him, but before he could even open his mouth you whisper a quite “I love you” into his lips…

the first “I love you” you and Simon had ever shared :((

Its safe to say he said it back :333

And he says it again with his face inbetween your legs a minute later ;)))

okay, okay, okay, I know I promised to upload this after work like....days ago BUT I totally forgot I had a concert on and didn't have time to finish writing it AND THEN this guy im talking to came over to meet my dad and everything just pilled up im so so so sorry...BUT in my defence, this is over 4k which is my longest fic ive written so far, I love y'all I promise

Request are open for Mechanic!Simon, I would love to hear your thoughts so feel free send them through and add to the AU.

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune

Basic blog housekeeping - fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors

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fandoms--fluff · 1 year

Note

Hellooooo sorry to bother you but do you think can right one of Katherine Pirces were she has a baby girl y/n and she’s like 4 months old and the salvatores brothers finds out about her they use her to take Katherine dawn but they don’t now that she ask the originals but specifically Elijah help to save ther daughter

Mama's Girl

Baby daughter reader x mom Katherine Pierce

Warnings: kidnapping,

A/n: I made a few tweaks in it, by making Elijah the father, but I hope you like it!

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Katherine picks you up from your playpen which has two fluffy blankets and some stuffed animals. "You hungry baby girl?" Katherine smiles as you babble while nuzzling your head into her chest. "I'll take that as a yes" She kisses the top of your head before sitting down on the black leather couch beside the playpen.

She holds you with one arm and as the her other hand pulls a part of her black shirt down, releasing one of her breasts. She coaxes your head toward her full breast until you easily latch on. As you drink your mama's milk, she holds you protectively in her arms.

She doesn't know how the hell she had gotten pregnant, considering she's been dead a very long time. And it wasn't just her child, you, actually was growing inside her, but her body also changed for how it would when any other woman would be pregnant. ex. she produces breast milk. She's still confused but doesn't ask why anymore, just grateful that you're her baby.

The only two people who know about you are; Elijah and Kol Mikaelson. Kol saw Katherine walking around a park a couple towns over, obviously pregnant. He then later that day asked his big brother how he had managed to knock up Katherine, assuming that Elijah and she had hooked up. And he wasn't entirely wrong, Kol just doesn't need to know that. Elijah went over to her house and confronted her, they had a long conversation, deciding it was best to keep you a secret.

Or so she thought, not taking into account the two Salvatore brothers are staked out, across the road.

"How did Katherine get a baby? and she's caring? what the hell" Stefan says, turning over to his older brother.

"Well, baby bro, when two adults think it's time, they decide to start having se-" Stefan cut him off, "I didn't mean like that!" Stefan groaned.

"Whatever, this is our chance to have something to finally take the vampire bitch slut, down," Damon says, getting out of the car. Stefan sighs before following Damon down the road.

Damon explains the plan he made to Stefan, which they put into action.

Katherine looks up, something seems off. Before she can get a second thought, the front door is knocked off it's hinges and vervain grenades are thrown in. Getting into a coughing fit from the toxic herb, she sees a figure of someone coming over to her with a mask.

As soon as he gets close to her, Damon snatches you out of Katherine's arms and speeds out of the house. Katherine quickly stands up, adjusting her top back, but before she can go after him in a weakened state, someone grabs her from behind. The second person, Stefan, wraps his left arm around her neck until she can no longer breathe in air, passing out quickly from the vervain still in the air.

Stefan lets her drop back onto the couch and walks back outside, peeling the mask off his face. "Now what?" He asks Damon, watching as he tries to make you stop crying. His attempts are proven useless, making you cry louder about being taken away from your mama.

"Oh come on, can't you be quiet, you're going to make a scene with how loud you are" Damon whisper yells at you.

Being a baby and not understanding anything he's obviously saying, you just scream louder.

The brothers quickly get into Damon's car with you, Stefan having to hold you, insisting to Damon it's not a good idea to just throw you in the backseat and hope for the best. He drives off before Katherine has a chance to reawaken.

Coughing, Katherine slowly opens her eyes. The light shining through the windows tells her it's still daytime. Recollecting her memories of what had happened while she stands up makes her freeze. She quickly vamped around the entire house, not finding her baby, you, anywhere.

Damon and Stefan, the two names that come to her mind. They took you. All she can do is pace back and forth, a look of murder in her eyes. But she has to play this smart, if she just goes crashing in there alone, she's more than sure that there'll be everyone there. They'll obviously be expecting that.

She goes to the coffee table where her phone still lays from earlier and dials a number.

"Katerina, how are you doing?" Elijah's smooth voice emits from the phone as he picks up.

"Not well, considering the Salvatores found out about y/n, came crashing in, took her, and now are probably thinking of ways to take advantage of our daughter against me" Katherine exclaims, having no time for small talk.

Elijah's eyes widen and he reassures her everything is going to be okay and to meet her in the woods by the boarding house. Katherine follows his instructions clearly and immediately leaves the house.

Katherine gets to the woods in record time, she looks around before feeling a hand on her shoulder. She quickly turns around, ready for a fight. Though it's just Elijah.

"My apologies," Elijah says.

He starts explaining his plan of what they're to do. Katherine follows every bit and nods before heading to the back of the house, out of sight from anyone inside.

While she hides out back, Elijah goes to the front door. He knocks a few times before Damon opens the door. He gives a suspicious look towards the original.

"I believe this is the part where you invite me in," Elijah says.

He pauses for a second before stepping to the side, letting the older vampire inside.

As Elijah walks down the stairs into the library, he lays his eyes on you. You're currently being held by Caroline. She's been trying to cheer you up and to stop your crying but nothing has worked. You're not wailing anymore but there are still tears running down your tiny cheeks every now and then.

He puts on a facade, acting surprised at the sight of the baby. Caroline and everyone else notice this. Caroline walks over to the other side of the room and places you into an old wooden crib they had found in the attic.

"What's the occasion of your visit?" Damon all but growls, not happy about an original vampire being in his home.

"Just the fact that you have apparently acquired a baby in a short amount of time. I'm only curious" he says, trying to ignore your looks for him. You see the man in the suit is recognizable as your dada. He comes over a lot and holds you and cares for you, and makes your mama smile.

You hold your arms up in a grabby motion. Everyone hasn't noticed. They're all focused on Elijah as there was no way that he just happened to know two hours after they had taken you. Someone must have been watching them.

Damon and Stefan are standing in front of Elijah, whose back is facing you, the rest of the gang all stood behind the brothers.

Katherine watches from behind the door, knowing what to do next. She opens the door and makes her way inside, causing the gang's attention to go to her.

"That was stupid of you" She sneers, her vampire face on display.

As your mama distracts everyone else, your dada quickly goes over to you. He picks you up and vamps out of the room through the same door Katherine left wide open.

"What-" Elena started saying and turned around, seeing that you and Elijah are gone.

Everyone else followed her action and before they knew it, it was only them. You, Katherine, and Elijah, are long gone.

Katherine follows Elijah to a clearing in the woods. He's cradling you against his chest, slightly swaying you as you calm.

"I'm so sorry I let this happen, I never wanted anything to happen to her," Katherine tells him, feeling an emotion she hasn't felt in a long time, guilt.

"There's nothing to apologize for. There was no way for you to know what was going to happen" Elijah says, softness in his eyes. "Come, I have the perfect place for us. It's out of town and secluded" he smiles.

As they make their way there in his car, they talk the whole time as you're sound asleep in your car seat.

#katherine pierce #katherine pierce x reader #katherine pierce x daughter reader #katherine pierce x baby daughter reader #katherine pierce x female reader #katherine pierce x baby reader #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikaelson x daughter reader #elijah mikaelson x baby reader #baby mikaelson reader #baby pierce reader #baby reader #damon salvatore #stefan salvatore #elena gilbert #caroline forbes

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d0wnb4df0rf1cm3n · 2 years

Text

Someone's there.

Bucky x Reader

Summary: When you walk home from the office, someone seems to be following you home. Your best friend is not happy about that.

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Stalking/Stalker-Ex BF, Domestic Abuse, Anxiety, Angry!Bucky, Protective!Bucky, Panic Attack

AN: This is definitely not what I intended to write when I started but anyway. Have good day my dudes!!!

You stepped out of the office, pulling your coat tighter around you against the night. It was mid-November and New York was getting colder and colder every day that passed by. You were excited about Christmas - it was one of your favourite times of the year. The lights that went up from apartment to apartment, the tree and ice rink in Rockefeller center that you and your boyfriend - Nathan - visited every year, you and Nathan driving up to Boston to meet your family. Well, your ex-boyfriend.

You'd broken up a month ago. He'd been laid off about a year ago and taken up drinking to fill the time. Nathan was not a very nice drunk. He'd yell and throw things when he was angry, which was most of the time when he was drunk, and then beg you to come back, saying that he needed you and that he'd clean up his act as soon as he got a job. You had a well-paying job - secretary to the Avengers - but Nathan was always the higher earner of the two of you. You could hardly sustain his lifestyle on your job, but you stayed. Why? You had no idea.

Nathan was a smart guy, he got picked up by some major firm headquartered in Manhattan just over a month after he got laid off. He was back to his old routine of leaving the house at 6 and coming back by 8 - you hardly saw him anymore.

And much to your dismay, the drinking didn't stop. Sure, he slowed down. He couldn't risk ruining his reputation at his new workplace. So he limited the drinking to after work. But he never stopped.

The throwing vases became throwing punches, the yelling became constant threats, consoling words became consoling sex.

You did well to hide the new bruises from your colleagues, although your act was not good enough to fool everybody. You'd let your guard down in the toilet, rolling your sleeves up to wash your hands, just as Natasha Romanoff. Yes, Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow aka the world's best assassin.

She didn't mention it there, but you were called to a meeting with her soon after. She sat you down with a glass of water and asked you a simple question: "Are you safe?"

Your wide eyes and trembling figure gave you away.

Nat implored you to break up with him or to at least come and live at the compound for a while - just until you figured out what you wanted to do.

You turned her offer down, stating that you were fine. You'd be fine. She fixed you with a stern glance, but even Natasha Romanoff couldn't force you to do something you didn't want.

Bucky, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He'd noticed the bruises long before Nat had, and gone out of his way to try and make your life easier. He sent you less paperwork to file, fewer menial tasks to do, and even put in a request for you to be moved to the New York office. In his eyes that meant you'd be further away from Nathan.

The next week, you both moved to Manhattan.

The bruises started to get darker, and more visible around your body. You dropped the short-sleeved dresses and low necklines in favour of long-sleeved turtlenecks with trousers.

Bucky worried for you. The dark rings around your eyes, the ghostly pallor of your skin. He was determined to save you. The only issue was he had no idea where you lived. New York was a big enough place that he'd never run into you. He knew you didn't live in Brooklyn, but that was about it.

The night where it all came to a head was after a Stark Gala. There was a group photo, where Bucky's arm rested on your hip while your arm rested on his. Nathan was pissed. He'd been sitting on the sofa when you came home, the photo open on his phone and a half-drunk bottle of whiskey in his hand. He pushed you into a wall and slapped you, his rings cutting into your face. He yelled every manner of words in your direction, calling you a 'slut' and a 'whore', and telling you that you were worthless. You cried, fresh bruises forming on your neck where he gripped you and blood dripping down your face.

You took his berating for the next few hours until Nathan retreated onto the sofa, sitting down and muttering under his breath. You opened your mouth, trying to defend yourself. Wrong move. Nathan stood up, even more agitated than before. He grabbed the bottle of whiskey that was almost finished and brought it down on your head.

The next thing you remember was waking up to 4 white walls. You were in a hospital, your hand being gripped tightly by someone. You tried to escape from the vice-like grip when a thumb ran over your knuckles. You knew those hands.

"Bucky." You whispered, your eyes still adjusting to the light. Your voice was sore from disuse, but the way that Bucky's eyes lit up, you would have thought that you were singing a love song just to him.

The calmness in your heart faded as soon as your brain caught up with you. You tried to convince Bucky that he needed to go but he shushed you gently.

"Shh. Don't stress yourself out. You're safe. I promise." The red rings around his eyes gave him away. Bucky had been crying. Over you.

You held his hand tightly that day. And the day after. And even the day after that. You weren't sure if you would ever find the strength to let go.

By the time you were out of the hospital, you'd moved back to Upstate New York - Bucky had made sure that you would never have to set foot in the city again if you didn't want to.

You returned back to work as normal - the restraining order you had filed against Nathan made your mind rest easier. The whole team was happy to have you back and smiling again, but they made sure to check in with you a hell of a lot more than they used to. Clint would swing by with an apple, and accidentally leave it at your desk - the first time, you'd felt bad and tried to return it, but you quickly caught on to his tactics. Nat would bring up game nights and movie nights, begging you to come, even if it was just you both.

But most of all, Bucky. Every day, you'd wake up to a text from him, wishing you a wonderful morning and spewing some inspirational affirmations for the start of the day. He'd bring you coffee, made just how you like it, as soon as he was back from his morning run. He'd spent a while perfecting the drink - making sure it was exactly to your standard. He'd walk you to your apartment for your biweekly 2pm therapy sessions (that he'd set you up with after he had realised how much difficulty you were having sleeping), and then off to lunch at some random hole-in-the-wall spot that he knew you would love. He'd call you as you got home, making sure you got home safe, and then a goodnight text to fall asleep to.

To others, his persistent need to be around you would be stifling. But after 4 years of having your needs be put lower than the damn cockroaches in the walls, it was nice to feel wanted.

You set your life up - personal bank accounts, new social media - anything to separate that part of your life from your new one. You got a new phone (courtesy of Tony, who insisted on buying you the latest iPhone, no matter how hard you tried to convince him that he didn't need to do that because 'where on earth would you find the money to pay him back?' He scoffed at that, "I'm a billionaire hun, I think I can afford to buy my secretary a new phone). You went to get your haircut, the shorter length was something you knew Nathan would have hated.

You'd walked into the compound the day after you got it cut, worried that no one would like it as much as you did.

As soon as you made it to the kitchen, you heard a loud wolf whistle. Nat was sitting on the sofa with Sam, and they both cheered loudly as you posed for them.

Bucky's jaw dropped as he walked into the kitchen. You were still showing off for Nat and Sam - you hadn't seen him walk in.

He walked over, reaching behind you to get a pod for the coffee machine, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "Looking good, Doll." His hot breath against your neck sent shivers down your spine.

You smiled up at him, before grabbing an apple and heading back toward your desk. You glanced back at Bucky and your eyes drifted downwards to a very large and very prominent issue. You stifled a giggle before getting back to work.

You'd continued to tease Bucky for a while, inconspicuous brushes and a few comments here and there. Enough to make him flustered, but not enough to make him suspicious.

He continued being the perfect gentleman. Helping you when you needed him to, being there when no one else was.

You started your normal journey back home, getting out of the compound was sometimes a tedious affair because of the thousands of security gates between the compound and the outermost gate. Given that this is where the Avengers live and train, it's justified. Still tedious though.

It was a quarter mile from the compound to the bus stop that took you home - you didn't like driving, especially in the frost and the dark. You put your headphones in, picking back up on the podcast you started this morning. It was an interesting one - some new True Crime podcast that your best friend had recommended to you.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as you walked through a dark and lonely street. You gripped your bag tighter around you and sped up. There was someone following you.

You glanced behind you, your eyes catching sight of brown hair and a blue t-shirt. It had Palm Springs emblazoned on it. Funny. You'd bought Nathan a similar t-shirt a few years ago.

You fished your phone out of your pocket, quickly dialing the one person you felt safest with.

"Doll?" Bucky picked after the first ring.

"Bucky, cred că cineva mă urmărește." You said, your voice loud enough that the other person could hear you were on the phone.

"Tell me where you are, Doll, I'll come and get you." You could hear Bucky pulling on a jacket and grabbing his keys.

"Umm, cred că sunt aproape de Joey's."

"The pizza place?"

"Da, îl văd de unde sunt." The footsteps behind you seem to be getting louder, but you forced yourself to remain calm, "Am să te aștept acolo. Vă rog să veniți repede."

You ducked into the pizza place, walking straight up to the counter. By now, you were sure of who it was - but Nathan didn't follow you into the pizza place. Maybe you were just overreacting. Joey's was mostly empty, with a few teenagers here and there - probably camping out after some house party that got shut down.

"Same as always, kiddo?" Joey asked, and you nodded with a slight grin. You and Bucky came to Joey's Pizza Place a lot - Bucky used to say that it felt like home. You were inclined to agree.

"No metal man with you today?" Joey enjoyed teasing Bucky. His dad, also named Joey, had fought alongside Bucky in the war. Joey had grown up on stories of the greatness of the Howling Commandoes and it had been one of his greatest pleasures to serve him pizza every time they came.

"He's coming - got caught up in traffic."

"Busy men, huh?" You giggled at that.

The door opened again. You turned around to find yourself face-to-face with someone you hoped you'd never see again. Nathan's sister.

"Thought I'd find you here, bitch."

June stalked over to you, her face filled with rage. She had been good friends with you before Nathan and your relationship started going wrong, but when you had confided your pains with her, she'd turned her back on you. Blood is thicker than water. She'd called you names before - filling your comments with every vile comment she could think of, texting and emailing you death threats, anything to remind you of just how broken and damaged you were.

Before you knew what was happening, her hand collided with your cheek. The whole place burst into action.

Joey jumped around the side of the counter as June hurled insults at your face.

You tried to push her away as she swung at you again, but her hand hit your shoulder.

Joey pushed you behind him, as one of the kitchen hands stepped out to pull June back.

A teenager was on the phone with the police.

You tried to cover your ears as the noise built in your head.

The door swung open, letting in a draft.

Boots on the linoleum floor. Familiar boots.

Sirens.

"We were in the neighbourhood, Sergeant." Something about a noise complaint.

A hand pulling you into a firm chest. Tears streaming down your face. Your favourite voice whispering sweet nothings, stroking your hair, begging you to calm down.

"You're doing so good for me, Doll, just keep breathing." Bucky's pulse was steady under your hand. Slowly, your breathing evened out and you lifted your head to meet Bucky's eyes. He kept his arms wrapped tightly around you to stop you from collapsing.

You stayed in Bucky's embrace while the police wrapped up - June was being taken to the local PD for the altercation and also driving under the influence. Bucky told you that Nathan had also been arrested for violating the restraining order. Your heart sunk.

"I'll never escape him, will I?" You whispered to Bucky, as you sat down in your favourite booth to eat.

"You can, and you will," Bucky reassured you, squeezing your hand in his.

You ate your pizza in relative silence after that - most of the shop had cleared out with the police. Joey gave you your pizza for free, along with a tight hug on the side. He told you that you'd always be safe in here, "although metal man seems to have that covered." Bucky glared at the nickname, making you both laugh.

You walked hand-in-hand to Bucky's motorbike - his fingers ghosted over the bruise on your cheekbone from the slap as he fastened your helmet on your head.

"It's nothing, Buck. I've had worse." Bucky gave you a pointed look, "Too soon?"

He threw his leg over the bike and you settled behind him, resting your cheek on his spine. "Forever is too soon for my liking."

You smiled at that and nuzzled further into his back.

"Where to madam?" He said, putting on an exaggerated British accent. You leaned up to whisper in his ear.

"Take me home, Buck."

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky fanfic #buckybarnes #bucky #bucky imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes comfort #bucky barnes #no y/n #bucky angst #bucky x y/n #tw panic attack #tw ab*se

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pleasingforharry · 2 years

Text

Quiet!YN Gets Jealous

college!harry x quiet!yn

SUMMARY: Based on this Ask - Hey! Can we have more of college harry? Im literally obsessed with him😮‍💨 maybe something about y/n getting jealous with angst or she does something that pisses h off but they make up? Anything tbh!

WORD COUNT: 12.4k

WARNINGS: Angst and smut

it’s back. did some changes here and there. hope you enjoy it (again)

Harry liked Y/N a lot. She knew that. And even though being in a relationship didn’t stop girls from trying to seduce him, Harry still continued to look the other way when they approached him. He only wanted Y/N. She knew that.

So, why the fuck was she so jealous?

Harry was popular, and even now that he was with someone, that didn’t change his social status. Everyone wanted to be around him because he was just a great person overall. But Harry made it known that certain parts of himself were only reserved for his girlfriend. And Y/N knew that.

So, why the fuck was she so jealous?

They’ve had many short but heated arguments about it. How every time Harry wasn’t with Y/N, he was accompanied by some girl who had attached herself to his side. And how Harry always brushed it off because to him, it didn’t mean anything. He loved Y/N and couldn’t get her off his mind. So, girls could continue to try, however, nothing was going to change.

But to Y/N, Harry was okay with girls having their way with him. She felt as if she was sharing her boyfriend when she wasn’t around.

Every time she would bring it up, Harry would kiss her long and lovingly, letting her know that it was nothing she needed to worry about.

So, why the fuck was she so jealous?

And those thoughts led to the couple's most recent argument. Y/N wanted to surprise Harry at his frat house with ice cream from their favorite spot, More Scoops, after her classes. She hadn't told him that her last class had been canceled, which met she would have extra hours with him. She was overjoyed about it and wanted to see him as soon as possible.

She asked her platonic uncle, Coach James, who was also Harry’s soccer coach, to pick her up and drive her there because the walk would have taken up valuable time.

“I’ve never seen you so eager to get to some boy’s house and eat ice cream with him, kiddo. I feel like I should meet him formally, huh?” Coach James chuckled as he held the bag of ice cream for Y/N. She slid out his truck and turned to give him an annoyed look.

“You see him all the time at practice, Uncle James,” Y/N took the bag from him and shut the door as he rolled the passenger window down.

“I know, but I just always wanted to say that,” He exclaimed. “Have fun, kiddo. See you later.”

“Thanks again,” She waved as he drove off.

Y/N made her way up to the frat house and knocked on the door. She was surprised to see that some random guy had opened it for her.

“And who are you, beautiful?” He smirked, moving out of the way to let her in. Y/N remained frozen in place, not wanting to give him the opportunity to check her out as she passed by.

But Niall was quick to intervene and save her. “Marsh, do something better with your life. Goodness,” he scoffed as he smacked him in the back of the head.

“Damn, I was just being nice,” Marsh groaned before stalking away, grumbling under his breath. Y/N internally relaxed and smiled, relieved. Niall let her in and shut the door behind them.

“Hey, what are you doing here? Isn’t Harry supposed to get you from class later?”

"Yeah, but my last one got canceled, so I came to surprise him," she nodded as she proudly showed him the ice cream bag.

“He’ll love it,” Niall laughed, gesturing for a high-five. “And we’ve got a busy house today, so yell if another version of Marsh bothers you. I’ll come save you again,” He winked at her. Y/N smirked and thanked Niall before skipping to Harry’s room.

He wasn’t wrong when he said it was busy because there were people everywhere. There was no party going on, but each roommate had about a thousand friends, and headquarters happened to be the house her boyfriend lived at.

It was definitely an adjustment.

Y/N finally made it to Harry’s room, but before she knocked, she heard voices on the other side.

“Yeah, practice was a fucking nightmare yesterday. My hamstrings are killing me.”

“Really? Want me to massage them for you?”

“Ha ha, yeah right.”

“No, seriously. I kinda wanna know what soccer thighs feel like. They look so tight and firm, but soft at the same time.”

“Something like that.”

“So, may I?”

Before she could listen to any more, Y/N swung the door open, her gaze darting to her boyfriend and the last person she wanted to see with him. Peyton.

Out of all the girls that Harry knew, Peyton was the closest to him. They'd been friends since freshman year, and she's always had a crush on Harry. He was aware of it because she made it abundantly clear, but he never felt the same way. She was like a sister to him, and he preferred her as a best friend than his girlfriend.

Peyton was annoyed at Harry for it, but she kept trying and wouldn't give up on them. Yes, Harry knew that she still liked him and should have communicated that there was a line that couldn't be crossed, but she was his best friend. It was difficult to keep her at arm's length when he never had to do so before.

Harry was laid out on his bed, and Peyton was in his swivel chair, but rolled by his side. Y/N was slightly relieved that there was some kind of distance between them.

“Hey, baby. What are you doing here?” Harry asked. He sat up from his bed and motioned her over with open arms. “I’m supposed to get you from class in like two hours.” He was a little taken back that she was in his room and not in class, but nevertheless ecstatic to see her.

“Canceled,” was all she said, not moving from her spot as she continued her stare down with Peyton, who had a short smirk on her face. “Hello.”

“Hey, Y/N. Haven’t seen you in a minute,” she spoke sweetly. “H and I were just talking about you.”

Harry rolled his eyes as he knew what Peyton was implying but executing in a taunting way. “Valentine’s day is coming up, so I was thinking about date ideas,” He corrected her, leaning over to push her shoulder, which she chuckled at. “Don’t be an asshole.”

Y/N nodded and fiddled with the ties of the plastic bag. She didn’t know what to say as she still wanted an explanation for what was about to happen if she hadn’t walked in.

“I heard you guys out there,” she mumbled, now uncomfortable with eye contact and glancing down at her twitching feet. Peyton sniffled a laugh and looked over at Harry. He knew what she was trying to accuse him of and that an argument was slowly stirring.

“Okay? So, now you know I need my baby to come and soothe my aching legs,” He jokingly whined, hoping to avoid it. “Come.”

“Why? You were about to let Peyton do it for me,” She shrugged. “I’ll get out of your way. Have fun.” She turned on her heel and stepped towards the door.

“Y/N, wait,” He stopped her. “We all know that wasn’t going to happen.” She scowled as she peered over her shoulder at Harry.

“Did she know that, though?” She motioned to Peyton. The girl was spinning in his chair, letting the couple duke it out. She only listened in smug amusement. Y/N made it too easy.

“Yes, because you are my girlfriend and she isn’t.”

“Shame,” Peyton muttered under her breath. Before Y/N could snap a remark at her, Harry got to it first.

“Get out, Peyton,” He pointed to the door.

She shot her hands up in surrender. “I’m joking, H. Swear.”

“I don’t care, don’t say shit like that. Get out.”

“You knew I was joking, right, Y/N?” She desperately sought to her for help.

“Don’t talk to her; you’ve already upset her. I will physically throw you out if you don’t leave now,” Harry barked. Peyton sighed and stood up.

She and Y/N exchanged dark looks that said a thousand words. As it was just Peyton, Y/N had no intention of backing down from her glare. She tilted her head to the side and smiled. “Ice cream?” She lifted the bag in between them.

“No thanks,” Peyton scoffed before walking out and slamming the door as a last statement.

When the couple was finally alone, Harry held his breath to cautiously watch his girlfriend. Her shoulders dropped as she realized how tense they were. Without looking at Harry, she moved to his mini fridge and stocked away the ice cream. She suddenly wasn’t in the mood for it anymore.

“Why’d you get ice cream? Special occasion?” Harry spoke first.

“Not really, but I killed my speech in Public Speaking and felt great. My last class got canceled so I thought ‘what better way to spend those two hours than with my boyfriend and ice cream’. Tried to get here as fast as I could to surprise you, and you know the rest,” Y/N explained, sitting across the room from him, on top of his desk. Her arms crossed as she stared at him.

Harry nodded, “Well, first off, I’m proud of you, baby. Congrats on a great speech.”

“Thank you,” She brushed him off quick.

“And thank you for coming to surprise me. I’m so happy you’re here.”

Are you? She wanted to comment, but bit back her tongue.

Harry tapped his thighs as Y/N blinked at him. He knew what she wanted to discuss, but he didn’t want talk about it. He attempted to divert the subject by asking about the ice cream she bought.

“What flavors did you get us?” He motioned to the fridge aside her.

Y/N just shook her head and laughed. “Can we just talk about it because I’m really concerned?”

“Why? I told you nothing was going to happen,” He shrugged. “Now come here and kiss me. I’m really concerned about my lack of kisses today,” He quipped.

Despite her intent to keep her strict demeanor, Y/N really missed him and was just glad to be with him. Her eyes rolled as she pushed off his desk and walked over to him. As soon as he could reach her, he snatched his girlfriend into his arms with a wide smile on his lips.

“My baby!” He cooed and threw her behind him on his bed, before quickly climbing on top of her.

“Harry!” She squealed out. He wasted no time in attacking her face with kisses. Some were wet and slobbery, traveling from her forehead to her cheeks to her lips to her chin and to her neck. “You’re so gross,” She groaned, trying to wipe away his saliva.

“Are you getting rid of my love?” He gasped. “Y/N L/N, what the hell is wrong with you?” Y/N laughed and held his cheeks before enveloping him in a long passionate kiss. He moaned within it and slyly rolled his hips against her in arousal.

When she pulled away, she smirked, “Forgiven?”

“Definitely,” He nodded, and they both laughed.

Y/N let the subject slide for a while, not wanting to bring it up as they were loving on each other for hours. She felt too good to just suddenly ruin the moment, but wasn’t going to ignore how Peyton was a constant problem, along with Harry’s other mild friendships with the girls on campus.

The couple was finally eating the ice cream she brought over, sitting on his bean bag chair and having pillow talk. Harry had Y/N straddling his lap as he kissed her between every few mouthfuls of ice cream. He leaned further into the bean bag chair, taking in the view in front of him.

She was in his shirt after being stripped naked—and well taken care of—a while ago and her nipples puckered from the cold taste of her treat. She had finished her cup and twisted to the side to throw it in the basket beside his desk.

She surprisingly made the shot and Harry cheered dramatically, using that as another excuse to kiss her everywhere. “You’re a future basketball star, baby. I know it,” He exclaimed.

“I made one easy shot, dove,” She laughed, now able to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Still, I think you as a basketball player would be hot as fuck,” He groaned at the thought, bucking his hips up into her. She giggled and brought their lips close but not into a kiss.

“You think everything I do is hot as fuck. You have a constant hard on,” She teased him.

“It’s called a love boner, smartass,” He laid a hard slap to her rear. “And yes, I do think so. Call me obsessed.”

Y/N shared a long loving stare down with Harry. Her gaze followed the length of his face before returning to his eyes. He was hers, but it didn't always seem that way.

The events of earlier, and times just like those, circled back to her mind, causing a noticeable frown on her face. Harry watched and one of his own fell on his lips. He ran his hands up her back, under his shirt, to get her attention. “Baby, what’s wrong? What are you thinking about?”

She shook her head.

“Come on, tell me. I can see it’s bothering you,” He pushed it.

She sighed and looked away as she didn’t want to see his reaction. “Peyton.” That was all she needed to say to sum up everything that was stuck in her head. It wasn’t just Peyton, but every girl that wanted him.

“Y/N,” He groaned, bringing her closer and kissing her cheek. “I’m sorry baby, but what do you want me to say about that? You know I can’t control them. I can only control myself, and I feel like it’s obvious that I’m doing just fine at it.” Y/N exhaled a sigh. Her hands were placed between them, and her fingers twitched nervously.

He released one of his hands from under her shirt to round to her front and up her face. He caressed her cheek while his thumb rubbed along her lips. Y/N smile sincerely for a moment, knowing he was trying to help her through her nerves so she could speak.

“Harry, this is a constant issue, and I just feel like I’m missing something,” She faltered. “There are always girls here at the house, which you can’t help so I try not to worry about that. But specifically Peyton, she’s always in your room. And I’m just worried about what goes on when I’m not here.”

Harry paused his finger. “Are you implying that you don’t trust me, Y/N?” He lifted a challenging brow at her. Y/N suddenly wanted to shrink up into a ball, simply from his expression. He was starting to get pissed. Trust was always a word that lingered over their heads.

Y/N simply shrugged and glanced away from his intense stare.

“I don’t know. I mean, yes, I do, but—“

“Why is there a but?” He interrupted her. “Why can’t you just trust that nothing will ever happen between me and any of them?” He brought his other hand to grab her face and force her to look at him. She had no choice but to stare back. “I don’t think you’ve realized that anytime I’ve been asked to fuck them or kiss them or do anything with them, none of those things have actually ever happened. Maybe because I don’t fucking let them, Y/N. I don’t want them.”

Y/N believed him. She really did. But she was dripping with insecurities. Everything she wanted, those girls had. And Harry had access to them. She became an overthinker that it made her forget everything about simple trust.

“So, if I never walked in, you wouldn’t have let Peyton massage you? Even though she’s your best friend and you guys used to do that kind of stuff all the time?” She asked. Harry immediately shook his head.

“Nothing was going to happen, baby. If you would’ve listened for a little longer and let me answer her, I would have said no and explained the boundaries we needed to set." He responded, irritated that he had to explain himself. Or that she had to pose the question at all. He was officially pissed.

“But why does she think she could do that? Why is her comfort level that high with you still?” Y/N shot at him. “Maybe you’re not making it known to every girl here how serious your relationship is. I just wonder if you have doubts about us or if you really want a full-on relationship with me. I’m sorry, dove, but it’s just what I think about.”

Harry paused, his face becoming unreadable. Y/N watched as it contorted to confusion, hurt, worry, sadness, then straight anger. Betrayal. “What the fuck did you just say?” He seethed, gently removing her off of him so he could stand up. Y/N followed, hugging herself, as he walked across the room.

“I’m not saying you are a bad boyfriend or anything, I just think that you sometimes miss the freedom you had before me,” Y/N shrugged.

What Y/N watched made her want to shove every single word she said back down her throat and to the depths of hell. She regretted everything.

Harry’s hands clenched and he sucked in a long breath. His eyes went dark and lost all the green that used to look at her with acres of love. That sight was gone and probably for a long time.

One of his hands dug into the side of his hip as it didn’t know where else to go. He turned away from Y/N, looking anywhere but her. He wanted to throw something or yell out a dictionary of curse words to let out the stinging feeling of anger boiling inside of him. But, he didn’t want to react like that in front of Y/N, though. As much as he was filled with betrayal and wanted her to see that, he would never act out with her around. So, she needed to go.

“Get out,” Harry ordered, his voice stern, trying to hide the rasp in his throat. It made her eyes widen.

“Wait, I didn’t—”

“Baby, I’m trying...” He sighed and shook his head, “I will only say it nicely one more time. Please, get out of my room,” His hand twitched as it pointed towards the door. Y/N waited a moment, her hands grasping each other. Harry’s eyes didn’t soften like she thought would happen if she waited. He was telling her to leave. He didn’t want her there anymore. Maybe a little space is what they needed for now.

“Okay. I’m sorry, I’ll go,” She whispered as she scurried away from him. But before she completely left, she heard the words she thought would never leave his mouth. “Y/N, we need to break up.”

Her whole body froze as her heart dropped to her trembling feet. They somehow brought her to Harry as she held his shoulders to get his attention.

“Harry? What?” She wavered. “What are you saying? Are you... wait I swear, I didn’t mean it.”

He closed his eyes and grabbed her hands from his shoulders to lace them with his own. He squeezed her hands softly. “Y/N, I don’t know. I think I overestimated myself. I’ll never be able to prove that all I want is you,” he huffed, still shaking. “I am so tired of trying to convince you that I can be trusted. You aren’t going to chance your views on me, so why am I continuing to waste my time?”

“Dove—”

“I’m done fighting in a battle I’ll never win at. I’m tired, baby. I can’t do it anymore,” He sighed, rolling his head in different directions. He slipped his hands away from her to turn his back to her. Without saying another word, he pointed to the door.

Y/N stood there, unable to process what he said to her. She suddenly dropped to her knees, and her head fell into her hands. She wasn’t crying, though. Nothing was coming out. She was stuck in a shock.

Harry glanced behind him and saw her quivering body on the floor as if she was dry heaving. She didn’t realize he moved until she felt him reach under her arms. He helped her back to her feet and used a single finger to lift her chin.

Her eyes were glossy as she sniffled and panted uncontrollably. “Dove, I’m sorry. Please, don’t say that. I trust you, I really do.”

"But, baby, you don't. I'm certain you don't. And that's fine, but I genuinely think this is something you need to resolve with someone else because I’m at a lost." His tone was monotonous. He moved his finger to her hair so he could brush it behind her ear. "I can't help you anymore. I tried, but I failed."

“You didn’t fail, Harry. I promise that you didn’t,” She shook her head, ignoring him repeatedly mumbling but I did.

They stood there for another solid minute, bickering back and forth whether he failed her or not. Harry grew tired.

“Y/N, I need you to leave now, okay? I just don’t want to be near you, right now, baby. I’m sorry,” Harry spoke, running his hand down her arm.

“Are we really done?” She dared to ask. “Please don’t say yes.”

Harry rolled his lips inwards and looked up. Y/N began to shake again as she covered her eyes with her hands.

“I’m sorry that there are girls who won’t stop approaching me, but I have only so much control over that. I don’t know how to change their comfort level with me, because they blatantly ignore what I say. But I can swear to you, and you can even ask them yourself, that nothing has ever happened. I wouldn’t let it, and I’m sorry that it isn’t enough to convince you.”

“It is, I believe you. I do. I’m sorry, Harry,” Y/N tried to muster up a smile.

He only shook his head. “Y/N, I love you, I really do. I don’t regret a second of what we had, but baby, right now, I don’t want this. You can’t trust me, and I know that isn’t entirely your fault. But I don’t know... I just feel hate. It’s not fair, and I don’t understand why it’s towards you, but it’s there.”

“W-wh-Harry what?”

“I hate both of us. I hate myself for not doing what you needed me to do. But I hate you for not listening to me, Y/N. And right now, I need you to leave.”

I hate you.

Y/N didn’t want to show up at Harry’s soccer practices to take photos as the team’s photographer anymore. She wanted to avoid him at all cost, because if she saw him, she’d lose it. But Coach James would know something was up and blame it on Harry, so she went anyways.

I hate you.

That day when she left Harry’s room, she didn’t cry, only mumbled questions of why. She asked why’s for everything. Why did she say those things? Why couldn’t she trust him? Why was she so insecure? Why did she hurt him? Why did she never stop and actually listen to him?

They were constant. She couldn’t focus. She couldn’t think. She couldn’t function. She couldn’t. Harry really made up the happiness in her life. And now it was all gone.

I hate you.

She hated herself too.

The first few practices after their break up, Harry only nodded at Y/N when she arrived. Her eyes would dart anywhere else as she already felt a knot in her throat. She subtly sucked in a slow breath to exhale out and relax her shoulders. For the remainder of the time, Harry kept his attention away from her as he knew he was the reason for her uneasiness. He felt really bad, so the least he could do was not taunt her.

But it was the next practice when Harry finally spoke to her. It was when they had their water break and Y/N was pacing near the path that led back to campus. She was contemplating if she should leave. It was hitting her hard, really hard. So, Harry snuck over to her to help. He still cared for her, that was never going away.

“Hey, b—Y/N,” He caught himself. Her eyes never left her camera as she played with the buttons to control her overwhelming feelings of stress. “Can I talk to you, real quick?”

She was surprised he was speaking to her, and even though it hurt to be around him, she wasn’t going to give up the opportunity to talk as it might be her last. She nodded and moved her eyes to his water bottle by his side. He still used the one with stickers sprinkled around the length of it. And her initial was still there.

“Honestly, I have no idea what I want to say, I just needed to check on you. How’ve you been?” He shifted his weight to his other leg. “Thank you for still being the team’s photographer.”

“It’s fine, and I’m fine. Just been—well, doing a lot of thinking, but when I get down, it’s nothing a little ice cream can’t help with,” She said playfully, but Harry still stared at her worriedly. So, she moved on with a cough. “I’ve gone to the lake behind More Scoops more recently to take pictures. It’s a lovely setting, no matter the hour,” She answered. Harry frowned at that.

“You’ve been doing all of this alone?”

She shrugged, “I don’t have friends. Your friends were my friends, so...”

“Y/N, you can still come to the frat to see Niall and everyone. They miss you, and I’ll stay away so I’m not a distraction. You are their friend without me,” He pushed her shoulder as if he was offended she would believe otherwise.

“Thank you,” was all she should said for him to drop the topic because she knew she still wasn’t going. Just being at the frat house was going to make her think of Harry, whether he was there or not.

The ex-couple stood together in silence, finally staring at each other. Y/N saw the gentle green in his eyes again. She thought they’d never come back, nor would he let her see them.

She wanted to ask him a thousand questions, mixed with a thousand more sorrys. But it wasn’t an appropriate time as she could tell he still wasn’t ready to forgive her. She still had more thinking and growing to do.

Coach James called the boys over, so Harry motioned behind him, not knowing how to properly depart from her without kissing and exchanging ‘I love you’. So, she helped him out.

“You can go, Harry.”

He opened his mouth to response, but suddenly shut his lips. He only nodded and jogged away.

For every other practice, Harry never spoke to her. He would sometimes glance at her during their breaks, but didn’t approach her like he did that one time. Y/N still had to take pictures of him so Coach James wouldn’t be suspicious, but he already knew something was wrong. Usually, Harry would pay more attention to Y/N than the ball when she came to his practice. And now, he could count on his fingers how many times Harry tried to get her to look at him. Zero.

He became a little ticked off because he believed Harry was the cause for Y/N permanent frown. Every smile was painted over a frown, none of them were genuine anymore.

Coach James waited until after practice to pull Harry to the side and question him. He had his arms crossed and shades over his eyes when Harry came out the locker room.

“Styles, come here,” He yelled for him. The group immaturely teased Harry for being called out, hitting him in the back as he moved through them. He only rolled his eyes and ran to his coach. Y/N had left as soon as he dismissed the boys to the showers, not even exchanging goodbyes. She darted away with her camera hanging sadly around her neck.

“Yeah, coach?” Harry was a little confused because nothing bad or amazing happened during practice.

“What’s going on?” was all he asked, rocking slightly. “I’ll be unbiased.”

Harry blinked in thought, wondering what story he wanted his side on. But it suddenly hit him so he awed with comprehension. Then, he laughed. "That's not possible. You’ll always see her as your niece.”

“Right now, she’s the girl that photographs my team. And you’re one of my players that I’ve seen a noticeable difference with,” He shook his head. “Now, tell me what’s going on because she sure as hell won’t.”

Harry groaned, before turning to face the turf field. As did Coach James, and they stood side by side. He didn’t want to be the first to say anything, but he knew Y/N could keep her mouth shut if she really wanted to.

“She doesn’t trust me, and I didn’t know what else to do to reassure her. I just grew tired of the fighting, and I need to prioritize myself sometimes,” Harry explained, rubbing the back of his neck. Coach James only nodded and looked over at him.

“I see,” He said. “So, you broke up with her?”

“Yes, sir.”

Coach James hummed and brought his attention back to the turf field. “Well, I can’t be mad at you because like you said, you need to prioritize yourself sometimes. And you tried to work through an issue, but in the end, had to step back. So, you aren’t in the wrong.”

Harry knew that, but to hear it from Coach James wasn’t all that comforting. He kind of wanted to hear that he did something wrong so he could finally feel bad about breaking things off with Y/N. But each day, he knew what he did was for the best.

“Okay.”

“You’re free to go. Thank you for telling me. See you tomorrow.”

Harry suddenly frowned at Coach James, parting his lips to speak. He lifted a brow at Harry’s hopeless expression and raised his shades to look at him clearly.

“Why can’t she trust me?” Harry asked, begging to get an answer from someone. “I really tried.”

“I know you did, Harry. You did your best.”

“But why?”

Coach James shrugged, and it only made Harry angry. Why couldn’t he get a fucking answer?

“I told her I hated her,” He admitted. Coach James’ face didn’t change.

“Did you mean it?” He asked instead.

Harry shrugged. “I loved her so much, sir. Even though I continuously explain myself to her, it wasn’t enough. She wouldn’t completely believe me when I told her that all I ever wanted was her. And I hate her for that.”

Coach James shared a few encouraging words to Harry, before excusing him to leave. Harry didn’t feel any better, only confused. And he wondered how Y/N was feeling too.

Y/N had finished her classes for the day, so she went to the dining hall for some food. She saw it as an instant mistake when she noticed Harry and his roommates at a near table. But he seemed happy as he laughed loudly with the rest of the group, and that brought a sad smile to her lips. He was okay. At least one of them were.

Niall happened to catch Y/N walking around in the corner of his eye and waved at her. The rest of their eyes turned to her, and she suddenly felt vulnerable. She didn’t want them to see her because like she predicted, would get his attention.

Harry frowned in confusion as the boys sitting across from him were looking in another direction. He shifted in his seat to follow their line of vision, but when he realized who it was, he only gave her a brief glance before turning back around.

I hate you.

Y/N’s lips began to quiver, so she shortly waved back and made a beeline to the other side of the dining hall. It had been a long time since she was there alone because she never ate without Harry. He always enjoyed being with her, and Y/N enjoyed it even more. God, she missed him.

She had heard footsteps coming up behind her, and she assumed it was someone going to the bathroom as she sat near the doors, but that person was there for her. Niall.

He sat across from her and smiled. “Hey, Y/N. Mind if I join you?” He asked.

“What about—”

“Don’t worry about them,” He said. “They’ll think I’m shitting and eventually leave.” Y/N actually laughed for the first time that week. Niall reached his hand out for her, and she sadly accepted it. “Can’t let you eat alone, now could I?”

“Thank you, Niall.”

There was a moment of silence as Niall sighed. He glanced over his shoulder in the direction of his friends, then looked back at Y/N. “He wants to be here with you. He hates when you’re alone. So, I’m just doing him a favor,” He shrugged it off. “But you’re also better to eat with than those idiots. Who gets pizza with broccoli on top?”

“Isaiah,” they both answered together, before laughing. Y/N tilted her chin down and rolled her lips inwards to contain her smile.

Harry glanced in the direction Niall had left to go to the bathroom, and where he secretly watched Y/N go to sit alone. But it had been almost twenty minutes and Niall hadn’t returned nor did Y/N disperse from there to leave.

“You guys ready to go?” Sage asked, getting up from his chair with his tray. The rest of the boys nodded and joined him. Harry followed behind, shuffling extra steps in search for Niall... and Y/N.

But before he walked any farther to the other area of the hall, Niall appeared with stretched arms. “Hey, fellas.”

“Oh fuck no, were you in the bathroom that whole time?” Flynn gasped as Niall took stalking steps towards him with his hands out, as if he didn’t wash his hands.

“Sure was!” He smirked, before chasing all of them out the dining hall. Harry watched with a shake of his head. Before he followed them out, he searched a little longer for one more person. But she was already gone.

As much as Niall didn’t want to, he had let Y/N leave, wiping tears on her sleeves as she begged to be alone.

Y/N paused, her hand resting against the frat house's door. She shouldn’t have come, but there she was. Two days had passed since Niall's brief pep talk, which had left her wanting to collect her thoughts. And now she was back at the taunting frat house. She knew Harry wouldn’t want to see her, but she had to try.

Some random guy had let her in, but wasn’t nasty like Marsh. He was friendly and told her that Harry was in his room, as he had been all day.

She was taking her time down the hallway, shaking her shoulders to let the nerves out. The thought of being rejected as soon as he saw her was lingering in the back of her mind, but she pushed through and continued to walk.

Y/N reached Harry’s room and instantly grew sick when another voice accompanied him behind the door. Her shoulders slumped and her legs were ready to pivot away, but her voice did otherwise. “Harry? It’s Y/N.”

The noises behind his door suddenly silenced, and Y/N became exceedingly nervous. Heavy pads of feet, which she immediately recognized as Harry’s, reached her and then the door swung open. And so did Y/N’s eyes.

He was there. His hands over his head as he held the doorframe above them, stretching the length of his naked torso. He wore his signature navy colored sweats—they had a matching pair—that hung low on his hips to reveal his v-line.

If Y/N wasn’t worried about who had seen the sight that used to only belong to her, she’d be drooling.

Harry sighed as he watched her shyly examine his body. When her eyes traveled back up to his and she realized he had caught her, she turned her head towards the stairs down the hall. “Hi,” she mumbled.

“What do you want, Y/N?” He huffed.

“Are you busy?” She whispered, motioning behind him. His naked chest wasn’t helping the anxious knot in her stomach. All of the boys were together playing videogames in the living room, but he was upstairs with someone else in his room. It wasn’t a good sign.

Harry glanced behind him before looking back at Y/N. With her eyes looking down, she didn’t see the smirk spreading on his face. “Maybe, depends on what you want.”

She nodded and sucked in a brave breath. Just say it. “I’m sorry.”

“Okay?”

“And I—” she fondled with the stitches along her jeans, “Um... I just wanted you to know that I didn’t mean what I said.”

Harry continued to eye Y/N intensely that she was burning on the inside. She felt her pits begin to sweat, and the thickness of the air wasn’t helping her breathe any better.

“Yes, you did, Y/N.”

“No, I didn’t. I shouldn’t have said that. I trust you, Harry.”

He rolled his eyes and took a step towards her so he could shut the door behind him. “You’re only saying that because you want me to forgive you. And honestly, Y/N, I’m still not ready to.” Her throat closed up and her eyes warned to water. She dug her nails into her palm to control herself. “You never trusted me and we argued about that constantly. I’m lost and I’m confused. You confuse me. And I’ll never understand why you never wanted to believe me.”

“That’s not true, I did believe you,” She sniffled so low that she could barely hear herself.

Harry chuckled, “Did you? So, were you not there for half of our arguments? How naïve do you think I am, Y/N?”

She rolled her lips inwards and shook her head. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. It was inevitable as her vision became a blur. She didn’t trust her voice to hide how close she was to breaking down.

This was a bad idea. She needed to leave.

“Y/N, you assume that I want every girl that even looks at me. I always have to defend myself because you jump right to conclusions.”

“No, I—”

“Shut up! Let me talk!” He snapped at her. Y/N did just that, but it was too late. Harry was over the conversation. “Never mind, you are still as stubborn as always. I’m done. I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you. Just leave.”

She wanted to fight for him. She wanted to stay and talk things out. But the look of hatred that stuck on his face as he glared at her was too much to handle.

Her breathing became shaky as she nodded and whispered an okay. She made her way to the stairs, feeling his eyes hard on her back.

Before she could make it to the end of the hall, Harry called out for her. She touched the wall to steady herself and looked back.

“Yes?” She asked with a hint of hope as she stared at his genuine smile.

Before she was completely crushed.

“There is a girl in my room, and I would tell you what we’re doing in here, but it’s not like you’d believe me, right?” Y/N’s eyes widened. “Like I said, I’m tired of explaining myself to someone who will never listen.”

The door was shut to his room before she could react. She hadn’t realized she was holding her breath until her throat begged for air.

Y/N raced down the stairs, ignoring the boys’ calls of her name, and out the front door. She ran as fast as she could to anywhere but that stupid fucking frat house. Her legs wouldn’t slow down, and she didn’t want to.

Her heart was heavy. So heavy. She didn’t know what do to or where to go. If she went back to her dorm, she knew the boys would find her there, and for the first time in a long one, she didn’t want to be found. She wanted to be alone. And quiet.

Y/N scooped her spoon full of ice cream and let the cold taste numb her throbbing heart. She was at a lake nearby the campus. It was a good hiding spot because no one knew she went there besides Harry. And she was for sure he wasn’t looking for her. He was busy.

She lifted up her phone for the tenth time to skim the messages across her screen.

niall: where are you y/n? i’m at your dorm

niall : i’m worried about you

niall: he didn’t mean it

niall: y/n it’s okay

niall: just let me know you’re alright

No.

Y/N set her phone back down on the grass and sighed at the sky. It had been almost two hours and the day was soon to end. Y/N had no intention of leaving, hoping that the day could take her with it to yesterday. She didn’t want to move on with everything else. She wanted to pause in that moment.

Alone. With ice cream. And the painted sky. She grabbed her phone to take a picture and smiled at the results. It was beautiful, why would she go home when she could be here?

While still in her hand, her phone began to vibrate. It was the hundredth time, and Y/N was getting pretty aggravated, She knew it was Niall without even looking at the contact name.

“Hello?” She asked with a rasp in her voice from all the crying she did earlier.

“Y/N? Oh my god, where the fuck are you? I’ve—”

“Niall, please. Just leave me alone.”

“No, you need to tell me where you are, right fucking now. I’m serious, Y/N. I swear on everything—”

“Behind More Scoops there is a trail that leads to a lake,” was all she said before hanging up her phone and dropping it back to her side.

She really didn’t want to see anybody, but Niall wouldn’t leave her alone.

It only took him seven minutes to race to where she was. He was panting loudly as he plopped down next to her. He fell back and yelled.

Y/N sniffled a laugh and glanced over at him. “You okay?”

“You’re the actual worst. I’ve been so worried and here you are—eating ice cream by a lake,” He snapped, hitting her in the thigh with every word. She laughed again and hit him back.

“I needed to get away,” She shrugged.

“I know you did, but you didn’t need to be alone,” He snapped back. “You never had to be. This whole time, we’ve all been trying to comfort you, but you push us away. Stop doing this alone when we’re here.”

“I like being alone.”

“Well, I don’t,” Niall argued back. “Fuck Y/N, what happened today?”

She shook her head, not wanting to relive that moment again. Niall silently understood and didn’t push it for a few minutes.

“He needs you, Y/N. I don’t know what that idiot needs you to say to him, but please keep trying.”

“I did.”

“I know, but don’t give up on him because he hasn’t given up on you. He’s on the verge of forgiving you, I can tell. I know both of you want to be together, so save each other,” Niall sat back up to look at her seriously. “Save him like you did the first time. He needs you more than ever.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

Niall sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Y/N, listen to me,” He grabbed her hands to hold in between the both of them. “I don’t want the Harry ‘before you’ back. Yes, I missed him at first, but after I met the Harry ‘during you’, I never want the old one back. That is the best version of Harry there is, Y/N. Not the one before or after you, the one during you.”

“It’s too late, Niall,” Y/N looked away towards the water shimmering in the lake. “I messed up bad.”

“It’s not, though. You are doing everything just right. It’s working. I talked to him after you left and I could see it in his eyes. He fucking misses you. He knows you’re sorry and wants to trust him. He’s just being a stubborn fucker, so I need you to pull him out of it. Just one more time, Y/N. I know he’ll break,” Niall pushed her shoulder.

She gave him a hard glare, before hitting him. “How are you so sure? He would’ve have hurt me like he did earlier if he wanted me.”

“Are you willing to finally trust him?” Niall asked.

“Of course, I am. I always did, I was just insecure. But he’s right, I had no reason to because nothing ever happened. I’m just an idiot.”

Niall shook his head. “First off, you’re not an idiot because he should’ve taken your words into consideration if he cares so much about you. If you wanted those girls at arms-length with him, he should’ve found a way. So, stop beating yourself up so much, okay?” Y/N finally smiled.

“Thank you, Niall.” A weight had been dropped. Niall got it.

“Now, if you want to really trust him and to finally get over your insecurities, then mean it. Let him know what needs to change and compromise. Get it through his thick fucking skull that you guys can work this out. “

Y/N sniffled and covered her eyes to cry in her hands. Niall reached over to rub circled around her back. “I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“Don’t apologize, you’re hurting. Let that out, it’ll help.” Y/N nodded and leaned into him. “He’s going to listen this time, Y/N. He wants to listen. Trust me. He’s hosting a party at the frat right now. He hasn’t done that in a long time. We need your help.”

“I’m scared, Niall. He hates me.”

“Not as much as he loves you. God, Y/N, Harry is so fucking in love with you. He needs you bad.”

Y/N opened her eyes and looked up. She gazed at the dusked sky. “I need him too.”

Y/N was at a frat party. She never attended those. Especially without her roommate by her side, but she was so desperate to find Harry that she pushed through.

The house was loud and reeked of alcohol and sweaty bodies dancing against each other. Y/N needed to find Harry and fast.

Her low voice tried to excuse her way through the crowd, but no one even acknowledged her presence; a good and bad thing.

As the host, she knew Harry wouldn’t be locked up in his room, so that made it a little more difficult to find him. She asked around at first, but no one seemed to know where he could be.

She had made it to the backyard when she finally found him.

He was against the wall of the house, talking to an unfamiliar girl. Y/N was relieved from the distance between them, and that Harry was shooing her, every time she tried to reach for him. He was facing Y/N, so she could see the disinterest in his eyes, and she hoped that would help her get him alone.

She pushed through more people who seemed to be deliberately making it difficult to reach him, which furthered her determination.

“Harry!” She yelled, but the speaker hanging above him deafened her voice. She groaned and hurried her feet as she watched the girl motion her hand down his chest and to forbidden territory.

What felt like forever, Y/N finally reached the two, and when Harry noticed her furiously approaching them, his eyes widened. “Y/N?!” He gawked. Y/N clenched her teeth as she shoved the girl’s shoulder to get her attention.

“What the fuck?” The girl gasped as she whipped around to face Y/N. There wasn’t a noticeable height difference, so the girl’s met eye level. “Who do you think you are, bitch?”

Y/N knew she couldn’t take this girl as she had no fighting experience, but in the moment she didn’t care. She only took bold steps towards the girl so their chests touched.

“Stay away from him,” she growled darkly, trying her best to keep up her brave persona. But she was dying on the inside. Why the hell did she do that?

“Excuse me? Who even are—”

“Stop!” Harry moved in the way to break up something that was bound to happen. He grabbed the girl’s arm to yank her back so he could step in between them. Y/N felt a pang of pride as Harry stood in front of her with his back to the girl. “Y/N, what the fuck are you doing here?”

The girl huffed loudly, “Do you know her?”

“Yes, and we’re leaving,” Harry looked at Y/N as he spoke to the girl. He pointed to the house and Y/N nodded, before walking away.

She felt Harry close behind her as he muttered under his breath. She was a little ashamed of her actions, causing a scene like that when the girl technically did nothing wrong. But winning Harry in the end made it feel okay.

“Do you want to explain why you’re here and what the fuck happened back there?” Harry asked as they walked down the hallway to his room. Y/N’s shoulders tensed from his fatherly tone, so she shook her head. “Well, you’re going to tell me anyways, so figure the answer out.”

Y/N paused at the entrance of his room, remembering what happened the last time she was there. She suddenly grew hot as a layer of sweat formed along her forehead. The hurtful throb of her heart was back, and she needed out. Anywhere, but there.

“Hey, you okay?” Harry asked, moving to stand in front of her. He heard how hard she was breathing so he took another step closer to get her attention. “What? What’s wrong? Look at me, baby.”

Darting her eyes up at him, she shook her head rapidly. Finally face to face with him again, Y/N wanted to break down. She couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Harry, I’m so fucking sorry. I—I’m sorry for not trusting you because I had no reason not to. This is all my fault. You can’t control every single girl that likes you, and I should’ve—”

“Wait, you’re talking so fast, calm down,” Harry laughed, but Y/N shot him a dark look that he instantly stopped. “I’m sorry, go on.”

Y/N sighed as she remembered to slow her words down. She was still heavily shaking. “I want to be with you forever, Harry. My life before you is nothing compared to what it was when I was with you. That feeling I get every time I’m around you is so euphoric that I feel so selfish for only wanting to have it for myself.”

Harry only blinked at her. So, she kept going.

“I’m so fucking stupid, I wish I never said those things. I swear I didn’t mean it, you’re an amazing boyfriend and I know you only wanted me. You were doing everything just fine, it’s all me. Everything is my fault.”

Y/N started to hyperventilate, overwhelmed with her spilling words. Harry became concerned as her eyes filled with tears and her voice grew raspy. He reached out for her, but as much as she yearned for his missed touched, she put her hand out to stop him.

“No, I’m fine. Let me finish.”

“Y/N—”

“Harry, I miss you so much. And I don’t deserve you back, but I’m begging you to forgive me. If you want to start off slow and maybe just be friends, I’m so down for that. It’s completely fine. You need to trust me again. I get it.”

He sighed, “Y/N, I’ve always trusted you, and I still do.”

She only groaned and covered her eyes. “Don’t say that, I feel like even more shit.”

“I’m sorry.”

She dropped her arms and looked back at Harry. His arms were crossed, still willing to listen to her, and she was going to use the opportunity to the fullest.

“I’m insecure, okay? I know that, and I’ll work on it. I just... I love you so much, and I’m possessive, and I don’t know how to control myself, so I take it out on you,” Y/N finally admitted out loud, surprising both herself and Harry. “It was a horrible thing to do, but I promise, I’ll talk to you. I’ll communicate, and I—I don’t even know. Just... I’ll do better. I’m gonna do so much better. I’m truly sorry, Harry.”

He tilted his head to the side as he stared at her. His tongue rolled over his teeth, and Y/N was dying in anticipation.

“This whole thing... this is the most I’ve ever heard you apologize. You never do that,” He mentioned.

That wasn’t what she expected him to say, but she accepted it. “I know, I’m gonna work on that, okay?” He nodded and swayed. “I’m going to do better, please don’t give up on me, Harry. Fight for me again, I won’t let you down.”

The words he had said to her continued to cause constant pangs of hurt in her heart. “Please don’t hate me, Harry.”

His eyes suddenly softened as his lips parted. “Fuck Y/N.”

“If you really don’t want to forgive me, then I’ll learn to accept that. But, I’m begging you to not hate me.” Before she could say anymore, Y/N’s hand covered her eyes to hide the tears that spilled out the corners.

Harry took another step so that their chests finally touched. He held Y/N’s jaw and that was enough for her to break down completely. She continued to apologize and Harry simple smiled at her. God, he fucking loves this girl.

“Y/N?”

“I’ll do better, Harry. I’m sorry, I really am,” she cried, looking back at him.

“Will you let me speak?”

She shook her head and continued to cry. “I don’t want to know your answer. I can’t do this. Just know, I’m sorry. I have to go.”

Y/N escaped his hold, before racing towards the stairs. She needed fresh air so she could breathe properly. Her head was spinning and she could drop at any moment.

But what she didn’t expect was a familiar call of her name. Harry ran quicker than Y/N and grabbed her waist, pulling her into his warm chest that she missed all too much. His lips reached her ear as he laughed.

“I’m the athlete here, baby. You can’t outrun me,” he joked, pinching her sides.

“I need to go. I shouldn’t have come,” she shook her head, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

“No, we’re going to talk about this. You said it yourself that we are going to start talking.”

“I can’t tonight, Harry. This is too much.”

“You’re being stubborn, Y/N. It’s annoying me.”

Y/N turned in his hold with her doe eyes, looking up at him. His thumb brushed her lips as he smiled at her.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

“I know that, baby. You told me that already,” he chuckled, before leading her down the stairwell. She expected him to take her back to his room.

“Wait, where are we going?” She asked as he wrapped an arm around her while he pushed through the crowd.

They made it to the front door when he decided to answer. “You’re overwhelmed, it’s a hectic and loud party, so we’re going to your dorm.”

“Oh,” She nodded.

There wasn’t much exchanged during the ride. Harry had grabbed Y/N’s hand sometime during the drive and rested their laced fingers on her thigh. His thumb brushed the back of her hand as he hummed under his breath.

Every time he glanced at Y/N, her eyes were trained on the passenger window. He could feel how stiff her hand was, and it had a slight shake. She was so nervous, so Harry brought them to his lips.

“It’s okay, baby,” He whispered in the silent car, before pressing a long kiss to the back of her hand. “We’re going to be okay.”

Y/N sniffled, still not looking his way. But from the dark sky and the luminated lights of the buildings they passed by, he could see her reflection. And the most hopeful smile sat on her lips. Harry kissed her hand once more, before bringing them back to her lap.

When they made it to Y/N’s dorm, Harry led the way with their hands still together. She allowed him to drag her to her suite, before shutting the door behind them. His hand slipped from hers so he could approach her desk, examining the space he hadn’t been at for a while.

“Sorry, it’s messy. Didn’t think you’d stop by,” She tried to chuckle, but it sounded like a rough sigh. Harry only shrugged as he walked to stand in front of her with wandering eyes. They finally fell on her, and she felt on display. Even though she was completely clothed, she crossed her arms over herself to hide whatever he was looking at.

“I missed it here,” Harry said. “You moved our picture,” He motioned to her desk, noticing the missing frame as soon as he walked in.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “I did, I’m sorry. I just thought that—”

“Stop apologizing. You don’t have to explain yourself,” Harry interrupted her, swiftly pinching her side. Y/N squealed, before frowning at him. “I just happened to see that it was gone. I don’t have to know why you took it down if you don’t want to me to.”

“I’m sorry,” She repeated for the thousandth time. Harry rolled his eyes, which made her want to repeat her words again. So, she moved on and asked a question. “Can we be friends?”

Harry cocked a brow up at her. “Friends?”

“I mean, I don’t know if you want... well, a relationship with me again. But I’d really like to be your friend again,” She swayed nervously in her spot.

Harry snorted while running his hands down her arms. “That’s considerate of you.”

“I just want to try again, Harry. I feel really bad for hurting you.”

“I’d like that too, because I, too, am sorry for hurting you,” His hands found hers again. “I’m trying to understand how to firmly create a distance. I just don’t want to come off as an asshole, ya know?”

Y/N nodded, “Everyone loves you. It’s not your fault.”

“It is, though. But I’m going to work on that,” He brought her knuckles up to his lips and continuously switched to kiss both.

Y/N hesitated to ask her next question, but she was desperate to know. “Do you still hate me?” She asked cautiously.

“Will you learn to trust me?” He lifted a brow at her. Her eyes instantly widened as she rapidly nodded. Harry laughed and reached for her cheeks to stop her. “Then, no I don’t. And I’m sorry I said that to you.”

A pile of relief spread across her as all the stress shed off her skin. She wanted to cry. And she did. She had a full on melt down.

Harry continued to hold her cheeks while he wiped her eyes as tears wouldn’t stop streaming down. She repeatedly apologized for being a mess, and Harry only nodded with a loving smile as he looked down at her lovingly.

“You’re so sensitive, baby,” he chuckled. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” she sniffled as Harry’s thumb closed her eye to wipe another tear. “I can’t stop. I don’t know what’s happening.”

Harry caught Y/N completely off guard by kissing her nose before nudging his against hers as a ‘butterfly kiss’. Her eyes were widened as she stared back at him, bewildered by his bold move.

It only made her lip quiver again.

“Y/N—“

“Shut up, stop. You’re making it worse,” she complained through more sniffles. “I need to leave.”

“We’re at your dorm, Y/N,” he laughed heartily. “And I’m trying to calm you down so you’ll stop crying. I don’t like seeing you cry. Even though you still look very pretty.”

Y/N was overwhelmed, and downright confused. Did he love her again? He was being very affectionate after wanting nothing to do with her not too long ago. It made Y/N think that he wasn’t affected by her anymore. He didn’t feel anything towards her as he touched and caressed her.

His feelings were somewhere else.

“What are you thinking about now?” Harry asked. Her tears finally stopped, but the sadden look across her face worried him that more were soon to come.

“Is there someone else?” She dared to ask.

Harry’s hands continued to hold her cheeks as his thumb trailed along his favorite features of her face. “What do you mean?”

“Another girlfriend,” she gulped. Harry lifted a brow at her, and her hands came up in surrender. “Oh shit, I didn’t even consider that. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to throw myself back at you like this.”

“Y/N,” He laughed.

“No, It’s completely fine, if so, Harry. I’m happy for you,” She lied right to his face with a forced smile. But he could see right through her.

Harry slowly smirked and dropped his hands from her face to cross his arms over his chest.

“Are you?”

“Yes, of course. She’s lucky to have you,” She nodded. “I really fumbled, haven't I?” She tried to joke, but it only made her lips quiver again. Harry nodded, trying his best not to laugh in her face. She was so cute.

“You did. I was an amazing boyfriend, Y/N.”

She didn’t response at first, only fiddling with her fingers. She wasn’t expecting to be in a new situation. Harry was now taken. And not by her.

“Well, congratulations,” She said, stringing with lies. “Uhh, can I just ask for a favor? You can honestly just ignore me and do it anyways because I have no—“

“Y/N, just say it.”

“It’s just that I’m there all the time, so I don’t know... it might be a little awkward. Not that it matters because you can do whatever—”

“Goodness, woman. Speak,” Harry planted his hands on her shoulders and shook them. “Spill it.”

“More Scoops. Will it be okay if you don’t go take her there? Like on a date? It’s just that it used to be our—the spot we went to.” She somehow got out, looking anywhere but at him.

“Y/N—“ Harry was done messing with her.

She assumed he spoke her name in offense and gasped. “Oh fuck, that was such a stupid question to ask. God, Y/N,” she scolded herself, slapping her hand over her forehead. “Oh my god, please pretend I didn’t say that. Of course you can get ice cream with her. What the fuck is happening to me? I need to go.”

Harry stopped her immediately, leaning down so they were eye level. “Baby?”

“Yes?”

“Stop trying to run away,” He smiled at her.

“I’m embarrassed, I’m sorry I said that. Just forget it, okay?” She pleaded. Harry grabbed her jaw to turn her head towards him so their eyes had to meet.

He wiggled his brows at her, “Guess what, baby?”

“What?”

“There isn’t another girl. Never has been, lovie,” He admitted, standing back up straight.

“But you said—“

“Wanted to hurt you a little. I apologize.”

Y/N blinked, before nodding slowly. “But the other day in your room. That girl.”

Harry instantly cringed and shook his head. “Yeah, that was weird of me. We were working on an assignment together, and I ordered pizza, which I somehow got on my shirt. I was in the midst of changing into a new shirt when you arrived. It was just horrible timing, and literally nothing else happen,” He explained. “Again, I just wanted to hurt you, but I went a little far. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, it’s okay. I deserved that. And you succeeded. Congratulations.” Y/N stuck her hand out for Harry to shake. He threw his head back to laugh, making Y/N frown.

“Stop validating what I did, Y/N. You can be mad.”

“No, I can’t. You are single, and it’s none of my business what you do in your room. If anything happened, you aren’t in the wrong at all. Don’t worry about me,” Y/N rambled, hating each word she spoke.

Harry placed his hands on his hips. “Well, good thing we don’t have to be worried about an if because there wasn’t one at all. Wasn’t thinking about her like that. I never did, never will. I don’t want any girl on this fucking campus, lovie. Are you finally understanding me?”

“Oh, that’s cool. The single life is nice, I guess. No need to settle down, I get it,” she rocked back at forth. Harry sniffled a laugh at her oblivion.

“Let me change my statement. “I don’t want any other girl on this campus. Know why?”

“Why?”

Harry grabbed Y/N’s cheeks and leaned close enough where their lips barely touched. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Because I’m really into this stubborn, insensitive, arrogant—“

“What?!”

“But amazing smartass. And to add to my luck, she also happens to be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. She’s all I want.”

Y/N eyes lit up. “Really? Am I forgiven?”

“Of course you are, baby,” He shrugged. “I just need you to learn to trust me, is all.”

“I’m sorry, Harry.”

“I know you are.”

Y/N hesitated her next question. “Do you still love me?” He smiled widely and wiggled his nose against hers.

“Never stopped, Y/N. I can’t stop. I’m obsessed with you.”

She sighed. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Maybe so, but fuck it. I love you, baby.”

“Can I hug you?” She asked shyly. Harry chuckled and easily lifted her up in his arms. Y/N immediately relaxed in his grasp and wrapped herself around him. “I’m going to be a better girlfriend. I mean, well, if you’ll have me. You don’t have to. We can take this slow. It’s up to—“

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“I’m gonna kiss you now, and when I do, we are going to go right back to the way we were. Okay?” Harry smirked.

“But did you hear me? I’m gonna do better. For you, and for myself. I trust you, Harry. I do,” She said, tangling her fingers in his hair.

“Good. And I believe you, baby.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How many more times are you gonna say it? I’ve already forgiven you.”

“Are you sure you want to? I don’t want you to hold in any anger you have against me. Just get it out, I can take it,” She sighed.

“You’re adorable.”

“Ew, no I’m not. Loser,” Y/N blurted, before her hand immediately covered her mouth. Harry knew how much she hated being called adorable. It was always used in a teasing way back in grade school. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean that.”

“There’s my baby. I missed her.”

Harry brought her close to capture her lips with his. They both sighed within it and Harry moved to her bed to lay her down. He settled himself between her legs and caressed her face. He stared down at her with his teeth sunk into his bottom lip.

Y/N looked back up at him and shyly smiled.

“I love you so much, Y/N L/N.” Before he could let her answer, Harry brought their lips back together for a long, very long kiss.

Eventually, their make out session caused their clothes to strip off their bodies. Harry’s hands touched Y/N everywhere as he was desperate to make up all the wasted time he could've had her skin against his fingertips.

When Y/N’s lips grew tired, Harry situated her to lay down on her side, in front of him. The covers were rested loosely against their hips, their entire top half exposed to the cold. “I got you, baby,” He whispered in her ear as she subconsciously pushed her ass against his hardened cock. The plush of Harry’s lips earlier had caused arousal between her legs.

His hips sharply bucked back in response, a deep moan graveling from his throat. One of his hands grabbed Y/N’s top leg to lift and push to her chest, keeping her still, while the other traveled between them to get a hold of his cock. Sensitive to the touch, he moaned against Y/N’s ear and thrusted in his hand.

Harry lifted his head to see Y/N’s eyes tightly shut and lips parted as she anticipated what was coming. She was spread open and dripping for him. “Ready, baby?” He asked, kissing her cheek. Y/N nodded and opened her eyes to look down as both of them watched Harry line himself up. He pressed his tip to her entrance, before letting go to turn Y/N’s head in his direction. Her eyes met his and he smiled while slowly pushing into her.

Y/N immediately gasped, wanting to look at where she was being filled up. But she couldn’t move her attention away from Harry’s face. Her arm reached behind her to find his hair, her fingers pulling at his curls.

Harry moaned loudly, catching himself by biting his lip and hiding his face in the crook of Y/N’s neck.

“Fuck, you feel so good around me, lovie,” He groaned, starting at a slow pace. Y/N head pushed back into the pillow, her eyes rolling in pleasure.

“Harry please,” She whimpered. His hand was still holding her leg up so he had more space to thrust into her. His cock disappeared into her, before slowly sliding out and pounding back into her—allowing her to feel each stretch his cock did to her walls.

His free hand eventually found her breasts that were jumping wildly. He grasp one of them and squeezed before doing it to the other.

Y/N wanted to cry. From the relief, from the pleasure, from the love. She felt his love again. Nothing was hateful as he pushed his cock into her and moaned her name in her ear. When he whispered, “You’re the only one I want to feel around me like this forever,” her eyes welled up.

She tightened her grip in his hair, afraid that he might disappear if she wasn’t holding onto him.

Harry’s head lifted again to watch Y/N. He stared down at her with his jaw agape and releasing raspy moans. She couldn’t speak as his thick and lengthy size reached her stomach. And with his slow pace, he would push into her and keep himself deep inside her for a few seconds. She could feel everything, and it was so good.

“You’re clenching so hard, baby. Look at your leg, lovie. Look at it shaking. Does it feel good? My cock so deep inside of you?” Harry pressed his lips to her ear so she felt his hot groaning breath.

Y/N glanced down at her shaking leg that Harry continued to hold up. It was trying to close as he kept her spread. “Harry,” She whined for him again.

“It’s okay. I’m going to take care of you, baby. I always will.”

She suddenly felt a tear form in her eye. “I’m sorry,” She whispered, closing her lids shut. Harry noticed her wavering voice and slowed himself down to focus on her.

“Y/N, it’s okay. We’re okay, right? I love you, baby. Don’t cry,” He said, before leaning down to kiss all along her face. Y/N nodded and sniffled. “Open up, let me see your pretty eyes, baby. Let me know you’re okay.”

She slowly opened her eyes at looked over at him. He was smiling between every kiss to her face. Harry knew what would help her, and as he changed the angle of his thrust, he hit a certain spot.

Y/N gasped as she grabbed onto Harry. “Oh my... fuck Harry.”

“I know, right on your sweet spot, huh baby?” He chuckled as her hips moved on their own. His pace grew faster as he could sense both of their releases. Her walls were tight around him and became slicker with every thrust.

“I’m close,” She said between a loud moan. She laid her hand on top of Harry’s, which rested on her breasts.

“Yeah? You’re gonna be a good girl and come on my cock?” He asked with a slight growl. Y/N nodded. “You’re so good to me, baby. I need to feel you come so bad. I’m gonna be right behind you. Can’t hold it any longer when you feel this good around me.”

Just from his words, Y/N was able to come. Her head threw back as she moaned through her orgasm. Harry continued to pound into her, chasing his own. He brought his mouth back to her ear so she could hear every noise that left his throat.

“Fuck, I’m coming, Y/N. Fuck, fuck, oh fuck!”

Releasing deep inside her, both Harry and Y/N moaned from the pleasure. They were panting loudly as they came down from their highs. Harry found her lips again to embrace her in another long kiss.

He eventually had to let her go so she could use the bathroom, and he could clean up. But when they were back on her bed, changed into pajamas and seconds away from sleep, Harry held Y/N against him.

“I’d like to ask you officially to be my girlfriend again, even though I don’t have any Ring Pops,” He said, referring to how they started dating the first time when Y/N exchanged Ring Pop rings with him. She laughed softly and nodded.

“I would love to.”

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles x yn #harry styles imagine #harrystyles #harry styles blurb #college!harry #college!harry x quiet!yn #harry styles angst #harry styles smut

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codenamesazanka · 4 months

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more Deku bashing, if you'll forgive me

Seeing lots of shocked tweets and posts that Deku seems so cold and distant about Shigaraki dying in front of him; that Deku doesn't seem to care much at all; that Deku isn't devastated he wasn't able to save that little boy.

I have to point out that Deku never cared in the first place. He really didn't! It's why he needed to see The Crying Child to feel any bit of empathy for Shigaraki, and why ever since then, he only yammers on about saving the Crying Child and only the little boy. He never gave a shit about the Shigaraki in front of him. Never treated Shigaraki like someone real to engage with. That Shigaraki is unforgivable; and it was impossible to have ever bring the Crying Child into reality because the Crying Child was a memory, it happened 15 years in the past that cannot be changed, so all Deku can do is comfort the Crying Child then beat the shit out of Shigaraki.

I mean, just look at the imagery and the word choices:

Are those the words and expressions of someone who's trying to be careful about not hurting Shigaraki? Actually trying to help someone in pain? I remember when people were excited that Danger Sense would tell Shigaraki that Deku doesn't want to hurt him - turns out nah. He was so ready to make Shigaraki throw up blood.

Deku never tried to talk to Shigaraki. He never asked any questions during the whole time they were fighting. Mirio asked a question and got a response; but Deku? Nothing. Even in the memory-realm, when Shigaraki via memory-villains ask Deku what his plan was, Deku just shouted 'No!' and that was that.

When Deku said 'Somewhere inside of you is a person' he literally meant that. Inside of Shigaraki is the Crying Child, who is the actual person. Did he catch Shigaraki saying 'Spinner will be looking forward to this' and think, 'huh, Shigaraki has someone he cares about, I think? Then he wouldn't want to destroy Spinner, would he?' No. The fan-translation got everyone's hopes up that Deku wants to 'shred the rug' of societal failures, but the official translation was correct - Deku wanted to pry the lid off Shigaraki's trauma, accusing Shigaraki of repressing himself.

If he cared about Shigaraki at all, he would've protested when Gran told him he might have to kill Shigaraki. Instead:

He would've opposed the construction of something called a SKY COFFIN DEATH ARENA. He would've spoken up when Heroes talked strategy about how AFO is the better opponent to fight, implying that it's better if AFO had taken over Shigaraki, despite Shigaraki being the victim of AFO here.

Even when he ends up saving Tenko from Decaying the Shimuras, he's utterly lackluster there. Tenko's in tears, saying that he must have wanted to kill his family, he was born with a quirk like Decay, who could ever validate his existence the way he is??? And Deku's response? "Well. Holding my hand might make you feel better. So here." Saying something like, 'No, you're a child! It's not your fault!' or 'Your quirk isn't meant for harm, it can be useful too' or 'It's okay. You're not an evil existence' seems obvious, but Deku doesn't.

and really, all this has been obvious since the Mall Encounter in Chapter 69. Remember when Shigaraki point blank told him that All Might's smile is stupid because he acts like there's no one he can't save? And it's clearly full of resentment? And Deku picked up on this, which is why next chapter he asks All Might if it's true there are times where All Might couldn't save someone.

But once Tsukauchi said, don't worry about it, Deku did just that. When he does think about it one time, it's this absolutely nothing of a reflection

"I guess we just have to agree to disagree!" Come on. And this kid has a 'drive to save that eclipses all common understanding'??? for real?????

Deku has never given a crap about Shigaraki or Villains. Honestly, him wanting to save that sad little boy might as well be just Horikoshi putting lines in his mouth to move the story along.

If Deku really did care, I think he would've wanted to save the entire person that is Shigaraki. The Crying Child is a phantom - Shigaraki is real and solid and there. The Crying Child is innocent and easy to care about because it's a cute baby and it's openly weepy; saving hand-monster junji ito twink Shigaraki who laughs and talks about destroying everything Deku loves would've been an actual challenge. But clearly we couldn't have that because even the Crying Child was too far gone for Deku to save.

#character bashing #warning #nalslastworkingbraincell #again #i'll take it all back if next chapter proves me all wrong #sorry

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writerracha · 2 years

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⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ on the run — lee know x female reader

↻ 4.9k :: best friends to lovers :: cw. auditory voyeurism. dirty talk. fingering. oral sex (f and m receiving). soft deepthroat and throat fucking. use of "angel" nickname. unprotected sex. claiming. marking. creampie.

you have been accused of a crime you didn't commit. you have to run away, and your best friend minho comes with you. you're on the road, away from all you've ever known. but you are not alone. minho is here, and there are things you need to tell each other. noisy motel room neighbors might help you do just that.

↻ 18+ mdni :: not proof read, pls be kind :: masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

You’ve been running for so long.

Out of breath, out of hope. You wonder if, one day, all of this will stop. Falsely accused, framed by someone you thought loved you. You were sure you were done for, that you would have to spend the better part of your life in jail for a crime you didn’t commit - but then Minho had taken your hand and taken you away.

He hadn’t hesitated. He just told you to get in the car, and when you did, he drove away. From your hometown, from everything both of you have always known. Now you are halfway across the country, with nothing to your name, just a car and some money.

You don’t understand why he did it. Why he came with you. Minho was not involved in this, not in the slightest - yet he just left everything behind to stay with you. I don’t want you to be alone, he told you when you asked him why he helped you. I could never leave you on your own. Minho was your friend, your best friend. You met in high school and never let each other go. But he didn’t have to do this. Sacrifice his entire life, risk it all, and for what? Maybe you would get caught. Maybe the truth would come out. Maybe not. For now Minho kept telling you to look and move forward. Even when you felt your heart would tumble out from between your lips, even when the fear was so cold you thought you would die, Minho’s voice soothed you. It will be okay, Y/N. I will always be with you.

You were on the road a lot at first. Avoiding people, putting as much distance between you and your hometown as you could. Minho had fortunately thought to take some cash out before you left, so you had funds. It would not last very long, but it would have to do. Then you would figure it out.

The motel room is cold, so you slide your legs under the covers to keep warm. You decided to stop for the night and get some actual rest. You did not do it all the time to save cash. Most nights you would sleep at intervals, the other one driving while the other closed their eyes. But it was more exhausting than anything, so Minho had insisted on sleeping in actual beds for once. The motel was a dingy place off the highway, but it was better than nothing, and at least, here, no one would ask questions.

You rest your head against your knees, watching the television without really seeing it. Your thoughts are restless, trying to figure out a way out of this - if not for you, then at least for Minho. Your best friend did not deserve to throw his life away for you. Especially not because your ex boyfriend, that piece of garbage, had been so angry at you breaking up with him he framed you for something he did. Why did people believe him?

A sigh escapes your lips as the door of the room opens on Minho. His hoodie is drawn on his head, his hair tucked away. You feel relief to see him - the room felt cold and threatening without him. You’ve never been good at being alone, and it’s even worse now.

“Hey,” he tells you, giving you a smile as he removes his sneakers. “How did the shower feel?”

“Really good,” you chuckle. “Did you find everything?”

He nods, placing the plastic bag on the bed.

“I found you a paler shade, but they didn’t have much for me. I had to get purple.”

“Purple?” you repeat, surprised.

“Let’s hope it suits me,” he grins with a shrug.

You take out the two boxes of hair dye from the bag, eyeing them. It was Minho’s idea to transform yourselves a little bit, just in case. All of it felt so much like a game you sometimes forgot it was real. But it was.

Minho’s feet make no noise against the carpet of the room. He sits on the opposite bed and you glance at him. He removed his hood, his soft brown hair disheveled on his head. He has dark eyes under his eyes, and you know his exhaustion mirrors yours. You feel a pang of guilt in your stomach, but you know what he will say if you say it out loud. I’m not leaving you alone.

“Thanks for getting this,” you tell him.

He nods towards the drugstore plastic bag. “Got us a few things to eat, too. Nothing fancy, but…”

“It’s great. I’m not too hungry, though.”

“Me neither. It’s so cold here.”

“I know, right? I tried to fix the heater, but I’m pretty sure it’s broken.”

Minho shuffles towards the appliance and toys with it for a minute. You try to watch the television, but instead your eyes are focused on him. His dark hoodie, his faded jeans, his white socks. The frown on his face and the slight pout of his lips that he gets when he’s focused. Minho is the best friend you’ve ever had. You know him well - and him, you. You’ve gone through heartbreaks, defeats, joys, and countless other things together. But this? This is changing you. Both of you.

And even if you feel awful about dragging him into this, you are glad he’s here.

You wouldn’t want it to be anybody else.

After some time, Minho clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Nothing we can do with this…”

“It’s fine, Min,” you say. “We’ll warm up some other way.”

He gives you a long look and you realize what it could infer. You blush slightly.

“I just mean, we could share a bed. Share the warmth.”

He gives you a nod, his eyes looking soft in the dim light of the room. “Okay.”

You tap the space next to you playfully. With an amused chuckle, Minho comes to sit next to you, tucking his legs under the sheets. The bed is not that big, so even if there is some space between you, it doesn’t feel like it. You are not shy about it - you’ve slept in the same bed numerous times, you’ve even cuddled before. But this still feels new, in a way. It feels odd.

It feels like you and Minho are the only people left in the world.

You watch the television, your head falling against his shoulder. He leans towards you so you’re more comfortable, his hand ending up on your leg - above the comforter. With him next to you, the both of you bundled up in hoodies, you feel much less cold. Neither of you talk. Neither of you move, either. You just breathe and let the sound of the television lull you to sleep.

Except you do not want to sleep. Except you like Minho’s warmth a little bit too much, except he smells so much like himself you feel like drowning in delight. Except you desperately want to slide your fingers in between his, except you want to push your legs against his, except you wonder how his neck would feel under your lips. You have to admit it - you want him.

You have for a while. It started even before all of this - random thoughts crossing your mind about kissing your best friend, about letting him treat you right like he always said guys should do. When he took your hand and ran away with you, your mind was too occupied with the mess to think about him like that, but now that the adrenaline is dying down, that this odd routine is settling him, you find yourself thinking about it again. Minho. Your best friend. Your everything.

Your heart aches when you think about what he did for you.

What he still does every day for you.

How he smiles at you, how he looks at you.

For now you just enjoy the moment of quiet, letting your body relax, your thoughts wander off. You are sure you are going to fall asleep right there when a noise attracts your attention. You frown, trying to listen more attentively. It’s coming from the room next to yours - thumps on the wall, voices talking.

It quickly becomes obvious what is going on. The thumping becomes regular, and the voices turn into moans. It’s not too loud, but you can still hear it above the television. You feel yourself blush, wondering if Minho is hearing it too. You’re torn between laughing and pretending like you’re not hearing it. But as the moans grow louder, and the banging of what sounds like a headboard against the wall fastening, you can’t pretend.

Minho is the first to laugh. You snort, the both of you falling into giggles.

“Someone is having fun,” he says.

“Clearly, yeah,” you laugh.

Minho raises the volume of the television a little bit, and it muffles the sound, but you can still hear it well. You try to ignore it, but a part of you can’t help but listen. It really does sound like they are having fun. The girl is vocal, and from what you can hear, the guy is too, telling her things you can’t quite make out. She’s moaning a lot.

You try really hard not to be turned on by the sounds, but you can’t help it. Maybe it’s because you haven’t had sex in a while - but there is something so lewd about just sitting there while other people are having sex next door. The girl’s moans are full of pleasure, and from the rhythm of the thumping, the guy is pounding into her at a fast pace.

You breathe out slowly, suddenly feeling very warm next to Minho. With a quick glance you confirm he is still staring at the television, looking entranced by what is happening on the screen. Either he doesn’t care about what he’s hearing or he’s good at ignoring it.

The hand he has on your leg has gone very still.

You bite your lip hard, trying to resist the urge to push your thighs together. You can feel yourself getting wet at the sounds, your imagination running wild. What position are they in? Are they lovers, or is it just a hook-up? You can’t help but think of being in her place, hands pinned to the mattress, a cock buried deep inside you, Minho breathing in your neck…

You snap back to reality. Minho? No, no. You can’t think about him that way, not now, not when he’s lying next to you in bed, warm and soft.

Miraculously you are able to keep yourself in check. Only a few minutes later, the woman cries out particularly loud and then everything goes silent. You guess they are done - either they are going to sleep or they are leaving. Either way, you can finally breathe again, and it looks like Minho is relieved too.

“I think I’m going to sleep,” you tell him in a low voice. “You can keep watching tv if you want, I don’t mind.”

“I’m exhausted, too, don’t worry,” Minho smiles, looking at you. His cheeks are a little red, you notice. “I’ll just run to the bathroom and join you.”

You nod, replacing the pillows on the mattress as he closes the television and disappears in the small bathroom. You hear the tap water, so you guess he’s brushing his teeth - you settle comfortably under the sheets, closing your eyes. You’re so tired, your body sore, your mind heavy, surely sleep will come easily.

Except it doesn’t - because all you can think about are those sounds.

Instinctively your hand reaches between your legs, finding their way inside your leggings to your underwear. You push two fingers against your aching core. The fabric of your panties is a little wet, and you guess that if you were to touch yourself underneath, you’d find your folds soaked. The pressure feels too good, so you keep it there for a few seconds, a soft sigh escaping your lips.

Those moans. Those sighs. What if someone loved you like that? Made you feel good like that? Lips against your skin, maybe a mouth against your cunt, a tongue sucking in your clit, your fingers tugging at Minho’s hair…

Fuck!

You nearly cum at the thought, but at the same time the bathroom door opens and Minho comes back towards the bed. You remove your hand from between your legs, feeling ashamed and embarrassed. Fortunately it is dark enough for him not to see you, and he slides back into his spot next to yours. The mattress shifts under his weight, but you do not move, your head buried on the pillow.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Min.”

You’re not sure how much time has passed. Maybe minutes, maybe hours. You can’t find sleep, unable to toss and turn in the bed because you are scared to wake up Minho. At some point you find yourself drifting off, but you startle back awake.

The moans have started again.

Clearly the pair next door has not left, because they are back at it. You let out an audible sigh and Minho, next to you, laughs a little.

“I guess we’re not sleeping,” he says.

“I guess not.”

You both lay down, facing the ceiling. The moans aren’t too loud for now, but you can imagine it’s only a matter of time before they get as intense as earlier.

“You remember my ex, the law student?” Minho asks, all of a sudden.

You frown, turning your head towards him. “Yeah, why?”

“She was so loud, too,” he tells you. “Even worse than that.”

Surprise flashes in your eyes but you can’t help chuckle. “Really?”

“Oh, yeah. I guess when I told her I like it when my partners are vocal, she took it to heart. But like, way too much. And it sounded so fake.”

You are glad that the room is plunged in darkness because you can feel your cheeks heat up. You and Minho have talked about sex before - you’ve even shared intimate details, but for some reason it feels different now. Maybe because minutes before you were touching yourself to the thought of him.

“Wow,” you laugh. “That’s like the opposite of my ex. He didn’t make any sound and he didn’t like it when I did…”

Minho sighs. “What a dick, honestly.”

“I got used to it,” you shrug.

“He never treated you right,” Minho insists. “You have such a pretty voice, too. I’d never tell you not to make noise.”

You feel your chest tightening, your mouth going dry. Now that your eyes are adjusted to the darkness you can see Minho pretty well, and now he’s looking flustered, blinking rapidly.

“I - I mean… L-like I said, I just…”

“Minho,” you whisper, interrupting him.

Your heart is beating so fast you feel like you’ll be sick, but you can’t hold it back. Especially not with the moans coming from the other room, with the warmth between your legs, with what he has just told you. I’d never tell you not to make noise. You just need to know. You need to know.

Maybe the dark is giving you courage. Maybe it’s everything Minho does for you. Maybe it’s the way his eyes shine, so close to yours.

“Why did you come with me?” you finally ask, your voice just a whisper.

He blinks, looking at you with wide, deep eyes. “I…”

For a second you think he will say the same thing he always does. A part of you wants to hear it again, because you could never get tired of it, and because you know it is true - but another part of you wants to hear something else. You don’t even know if it’s possible. If it’s something he feels. But you have to try. You have to know.

Minho takes a deep breath. “Because I love you.”

You feel like bursting into tears because it’s all you ever wanted to hear. You grasp at the covers, tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

“Please tell me you feel the same,” Minho adds, hopefully, desperately.

“I love you,” you breathe out. “Of course I love you.”

And it’s the simplest thing. Minho reaches for you as you reach for him, your lips meeting halfway, bodies tumbling in a sweet embrace. He pulls you close, holding you in his arms, his kiss feverish, desperate, relieved, hungry. His lips dance with yours, one of his hands holding your head. You wrap your arms around him, not wasting a second to close the distance between your bodies. His chest is firm, and as your hips meet his, you realize he’s a little hard, just like you’re wet.

The moans continue in the next room but you barely notice them. All you can hear is the sound of Minho’s breathing, his mouth on yours. You sigh as he pulls up one of your legs over his pelvis, making you straddle him. You lay down over him, not an inch between your bodies, your lips still meeting. He kisses you firmly and deeply, his hands all over your body, feeling your waist, your legs, your ass. You remove his t-shirt. You arch your back.

“I love you, Minho,” you keep repeating.

“I love you,” he answers every time.

He pushes his tongue on your lips so you open your mouth to let him in. It’s wet and warm and it sends your mind reeling. You feel drunk, you feel dizzy, and Minho kisses you so well it’s like the rest of the world fades.

“I love you so much,” he breathes. “Fuck, you’re everything to me… Everything I want.”

“Minho,” you sigh. “Put your hands on me, please.”

He nods, kissing you again, his hands discovering your body. He takes one of your tits in his hand, massaging it slowly, and you roll your hips against him. He’s getting harder, his cock almost flush with your wetness, and you feel your walls throb with the craving of him. You moan against his touch, and he rolls you on your back again, towering over you.

“Y/N,” he whispers, looking you in the eyes.

“Hm?”

“Please make all the noise you want,” he says.

You smile, playing with his hair. “I promise, as long as you do, too.”

With a grin he leans down to kiss you again, removing your shirt. You’re not wearing a bra, so he goes down to kiss your tits, swirling your tongue around your hard nipples, making you moan. Minho hums appreciatively.

“You sound so lovely,” he says. “I could never not want to hear you…”

“Keep talking to me,” you tell him, your fingers in his air as he plays with your breasts, kissing them, licking them, teasing them. “Please keep telling me things.”

“I promise, my angel. I promise.”

Minho trails his tongue down your stomach, pushing your sweatpants down, leaving you in just your underwear. He looks down at you, placing two fingers against your clit, above the fabric. He starts to draw soft circles, making you shiver.

“F-fuck, Minho…”

“You’re so wet, angel. Is it because of our neighbors?”

You bite your lip. “A little,” you say, although it’s hard to speak as Minho keeps stroking your wetness. “But also - also… You…”

“Me?” he asks, finally pulling down your panties to reveal your slicked folds.

“I could only t-think of you… Hearing them…”

“You imagined it was me making you moan like that? Fucking you deep into the motel bed? Is that what you would like, my angel?”

You nod, Minho’s breath feeling warm against your cunt, his agile fingers exploring your folds. He spreads your legs, holding your legs apart. “Y-yes…”

“I’ll do my best,” he smiles. “I just want to spend some time down here before I fuck you… I’ve wanted to treat you right for so long… I want to make you cum, is that all right?”

As he asks, he pushes two fingers inside of you, and you let out a shuddering moan.

“Tell me,” he says softly.

“Y-yes, Minho, please! Make me cum!”

“Fuck, just hearing you say that, I could cum on the spot.”

But he doesn’t - instead he leans into you, his mouth covering your wetness. His tongue swirls around your clit, collecting your slick, and you can’t help but moan uncontrollably. He makes you feel so good, so loved. His lips kissing you, his tongue everywhere, pushing and teasing. He moves his fingers inside of you at the same time, curving them into your sweet spots, and you grasp at the sheets, lost in your pleasure.

“Fuck, yes, keep moaning for me, angel,” he breathes. “Don’t hold back.”

You couldn’t if you wanted to - Minho is too good at what he does, like he already knows everything that makes you go crazy. His rhythm accelerates, then slows down, his mouth deliciously eating your cunt. You can’t think anymore, one of your hands is lost in his soft hair. Your moans accompany the ones from next door, combined with the wet sounds of Minho’s tongue and fingers around your drenched pussy.

“I’m gonna cum,” you cry out. “Minho, I’m…”

He doesn’t say anything, just accelerates exactly what he was doing, and your orgasm flashes through you. Minho keeps licking your cunt until you stop shaking, and then slowly makes his way up your body, placing wet kisses on your skin. You don’t think you’ve ever moaned this loud in your life, and as you start to come down your high, you feel a little embarrassed.

When he kisses your lips, tasting of you, you open your eyes. Even in the dark you can see that his mouth is a little swollen, still wet with your juices.

“S-sorry…” you whimper.

He frowns, stroking your hair. “Why are you sorry?”

“Was I too loud?”

He smiles, cupping your cheeks. “You could never be too loud. I just hope it was good for you.”

“Are you kidding?” you chuckle. “That was the best orgasm of my life.”

Minho laughs, and your heart swells at the sight of his teeth, the shape of his eyes. He is so beautiful. And he loves you. With a sudden surge of love you bounce upwards, kissing him deeply, and you want to touch him everywhere. Minho lets your hands roam over his body, and you quickly reach his boxers, where you find his hard cock. You palm it over the fabric and it twitches a little. Minho grunts.

“You still want this?” he asks.

You nod. “I want you. All of you.”

He answers with a kiss, and helps you get rid of his boxers, his cock springing free. You stroke with one hand, the other pushing him down the bed.

“Want to taste you, too,” you say, and you feel his breath shudder inside your mouth.

Kneeling next to him, you kiss his stomach, his hips, his thighs - admiring at the same time the firm muscles of his body. Minho gathers your hair in his hand, holding it back from your face, breathing hard.

You take his cock in your hand, kissing the tip, and you hear him grunt. You’re glad he doesn’t hold back making noise, just like he promised. You glance at him as you wrap your lips around his cock, slowly. Minho looks back at you, his eyes glassy, his mouth parted. You keep your eyes on each other as you go down his cock, taking all you can of him, and when you almost reach down he throws his head backwards in pleasure.

“F-fuck, Y/N!” he growls. “You’re taking me whole… S-such a warm mouth…”

You hum around his cock, starting to bob your head up and down, sucking him. Your tongue works too, teasing and licking him. Minho moans, the sound filling the room and your heart, and it’s so alluring you have to press two fingers against your cunt.

“Don’t stop,” Minho breathes. “Don’t stop, take it deeper… Just a little more - fuck, yes! Right there.”

He thrusts his hips a little as you keep sucking him. He feels big in your mouth, and you know your lips will be sore, but you don’t care. Making him feel this good is intoxicating, and you don’t want to stop.

“My angel,” he moans. “Looking so pretty with my cock around her lips…”

He keeps whispering things, and you can’t help but moan alongside him, touching yourself at the same time. You could cum like this again, with Minho’s cock between your lips, his fingers pulling your hair softly. But after another minute, he strokes your cheek.

“Come back to me, angel,” he whispers. “I don’t want to cum like this.”

You are eager for his lips again so you do not insist, and Minho wraps you into an embrace, kissing you softly. He is warm, so warm - your bodies are a little sweaty, eager for each other.

When he stops, you frown. “Is everything all right?”

“They stopped,” he says, and you realize he is right.

The room next door has gone silent again. You chuckle, but at the moment, you don’t really care. Neither does Minho, because he shrugs and kisses you again. He lays you down on the mattress again, holding your legs apart, his cock teasing your entrance.

“I don’t have -” he looks at you.

“It’s okay,” you smile. “I don’t mind. I want you to fuck me like that.”

He growls, leaning into your ear. The tip of his cock enters your hole, but he doesn’t go further, just feeling it there. You whimper for more, but Minho is busy kissing your neck and your ear.

“I love hearing you say lewd stuff like that,” he chuckles. “It’s really hot.”

“I like hearing you say it too,” you admit, kissing his shoulder. “Tell me something… Something you never thought you would say aloud.”

A flash appears in his eyes, and he smiles. He kisses you, and whispers it against your lips.

“I want to fuck you raw and mark you as mine,” he breathes. “Fill your sweet cunt with my cum and fuck it again, deep inside of you. Claim you. Keep you with me forever.”

Your cunt tightens so much at the words you are sure Minho will feel it - and from the way his hips thrust forward, he might have.

“I’m yours,” you whisper. “I’m yours, yours, yours.”

Minho pushes deeper inside of you with every word until he bottoms out, stretching you, filling you. You moan his name again and again as he starts to fuck you, his hips gently meeting yours at first, letting you get used to him.

“Mine,” he repeats. “Mine, as much as I’m yours.”

You nod as his movements start getting sharper, slamming into you, his cock reaching deep inside of you. You can hear the wet sounds of your cunt around his dick and it makes you dizzy.

“Tell me I’m yours,” Minho breathes, pumping his cock into you.

“You’re mine,” you say, digging your fingers into his back. Your nails mark him, and they must hurt him, but Minho only moans louder. “Mine, mine.”

He fucks you into the mattress, his hands holding your waist, your legs spread apart for him. After some time he lifts your ass a little, holding your legs up around him, and with this angle he reaches even deeper inside of you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

You moan with him, your voices and breathing mixing together. You are so close to cumming, clenching his cock hard, coating it with your juices.

“Minho, fuck! I’m cumming!” you cry out.

Your climax rushes through you. Minho follows a second after, pushing as deep inside of you as he can. You can feel the warm spurts of white cum filling you, his cock throbbing, and when he is done he keeps fucking you for a minute.

“My angel… mine,” he whispers.

When both of your bodies start to untense, Minho removes himself from you, stroking your cunt with his fingers. He gathers some of your juices mixed with his cum, and brings it to your lips. You stare up at him and lick his fingers clean. He stares at you with a soft smile, tenderness spilling out of his eyes.

He falls back on the mattress next to you, as spent as you are.

“That was the hottest sex of my life,” he breathes.

“Me too,” you chuckle, turning just to wrap an arm around his chest.

He plays with your hair, kisses the top of your hair. “You know I meant it, right?”

“What?”

“Everything I said. I love you so much, Y/N.”

You look up at him, feeling your heart swell in your chest. “I know. Me too, Min. I love you. You’re mine. I want to stay with you forever.”

He smiles. “I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.”

You stay like that for a minute, just breathing, until Minho squeezes your hand, helping you up on your feet. He wants to help you clean up and feel good before you go to sleep. Holding your hand, he guides you towards the bathroom. Only then do you realize something and laugh.

“If we could hear them so well… Do you think our neighbors heard us?”

Minho laughs. “Definitely.”

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

this was much longer than I thought it would be... but there it is! I had so much fun writing this I hope you will like it! please share your thoughts with me if you want ♡ reblogs and feedback is much appreciated!! ♡

↻ taglist: @lix-ables (just write if you want to be added!)

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mattscoquette · 6 months

Text

𝑰𝑻'𝑺 𝑨 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬/𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑯𝑰𝑵𝑮 - 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹 | 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻 𝑺𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑶𝑳𝑶

𝒊𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉.. a quiet introverted girl attempts to befriend her popular neighbor

cursing, kissing

2.3k words

introduction 1 2 3 5 6 7

matthew sturniolo,

sat up in a hurry, awaking from his dream. he picked up his phone, looking at the time. 3:18 a.m. he rubbed his tired eyes groggily, trying to shake himself from the dream he was just having.

he was at the park late at night hand in hand with a girl. she wore baggy jeans and small tank top, an oversized black sweatshirt draped over her shoulders. she was wearing matt’s black sweatshirt. her brown hair was tucked behind her ears, falling into pretty, loose curls.

“i had so much fun tonight matt,” she whispered to him, drawing shapes on the back of his hand as they sat down on a nearby bench. she looked up at the stars, then turning to matt. “aren’t they so pretty?”

“yeah.” he breathed, looking at the girl next to him, but she was looking up at the night sky again. he couldn’t quite make out her face, until she turned to face him.

addilyn.

that’s when matt woke up. why was he dreaming about addilyn? why was he on a date with her? and why was matt’s stomach starting to do somersaults as he recalled the details from his dream? he shook his head, reaching for the water bottle he kept on his bedside table, taking a long sip. he laid back down, trying to push the dream out of his head.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

the whole morning he was getting ready, matt was totally spaced out. his dream continued after he went back to bed in the middle of the night. so much for trying to shake it. chris took notice of matt’s out of character behavior when he nearly ran through a stop sign on their drive to school.

“dude what the fuck is wrong with you this morning?” chris yelled at his brother. matt just shook his head.

she looked so pretty. not that addilyn didn’t always look pretty, because she did. she gave matt a soft smile and rested her head on his shoulder as they sat on the park bench, hands still intertwined with one another. “i can’t believe i used to not like you.” she admitted quietly, almost to herself.

matt looked down at her as she met his eyes. “i always liked you.”

“weird dream man.” matt told his brother, looking to make sure he was in the clear before he continued driving. as they pulled into the school parking lot, they both saw addilyn and nick get off the bus together. nick stopped getting rides from matt after their argument about driving addilyn to school. matt’s stomach dropped when he saw her. she looked how she did everyday. unruly curls that were in desperate need of a new hair routine, a baggy sweatshirt and ripped jeans. but there was something about her today that was making matt’s chest heave.

get yourself together, matt, he told himself, it’s addilyn richardson.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

to: addilyn

from: matt (neighbor)

nick and chris are bugging me, can we work on the project at your house today?

matt’s finger hovered over the blue arrow to send his message. it was a lie, he had barely even seen nick this morning, and chris was tolerable today. he just wanted an excuse to be alone with addilyn. what has gotten into him? he walked into his math class, sitting down next to nick, and clicking send.

“hey,” his brother said, “you ready for our game tomorrow?”

matt’s face dropped. he’d been so caught up in his project this week he forgot all about his hockey game. he tried to save himself, giving nick a nod. “y-yeah man, of course i am.”

“good,” nick replied, “cause i invited addy.”

of fucking course.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

matt drove addilyn home today. at first she was taken aback by his offer, but thought nothing of it when he said “normally i wouldn’t let you in my car, but it’s only because i’m coming over to your house.” classic matt. they parked in the triplets driveway dropping nick and chris off. addilyn got out, not even waiting for matt to follow, before making her way over to her front door.

matt caught up to her, about to make a remark on her leaving him in the car, when his words got caught in his throat.

“my parents aren’t home right now, they’ll both be at work until later tonight.” she said to matt, looking over her shoulder at him as she unlocked the door, letting the brunette boy into her house.

why was she saying this to him? was it just to let him know or did it mean more? matt shook his head. he was reading into it too much. and besides, it’s addilyn. nothing special. just addilyn. plain and simple. they got up into her room, matt closing the door behind them.

“do you want the bed or desk?” she inquired, putting her bag down and taking her notebook out. matt looked around, taking in his surroundings. it was so empty, it didn’t even look lived in. he tried to think of something mean to say, but his mind drew a blank.

“matt.” her voice broke him out of his thoughts.

“uh, sorry. i’ll sit on the bed.” he told her, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. he wasn't sure why he was so nervous, they’ve seen each other every day this week. and everyday was the same, she was her usual quiet self until matt began picking on her, then they would argue. she would call him a dickhead and he’d call her annoying, calling it a night after a few hours of going back and forth. but today felt different, and matt didn’t know if he liked it or not.

“okay, me too.” addilyn smiled sweetly at him. matt felt his knees go weak. she sat down at the edge of her bed, pulling her notes and computer into her lap. matt found home beside her, trying to keep a distance between the two of them.

“so i was looking at different materials we can use for our project in lunch today, this is what i found.” addilyn explained, opening a tab on her computer. matt was sat a good foot away from her, and could barely see the screen. addilyn noticed. “scoot over a little.”

“whatever.” he sighed, but matt still obeyed, shifting himself so he was sat directly next to addilyn. he could smell the scent of her shampoo mixed with perfume, smelling sweetly of fresh flowers and coconut. she titled the screen towards matt more.

“what do you think?” she breathed, turning to face him. matt looked down at her.

matt looked down at her as she met his eyes. “i always liked you.”

“you have?” she smiled at him. he was so close to her, he could see every detail of her face. the way her eyes glimmered in the moonlight. the light freckles that danced across her nose and light pink cheeks. she looked so pretty.

“yeah.” matt breathed. he slowly dipped his head down, catching his lips with hers softly. she kissed him back, tasting of watermelon chapstick and bubblegum. she tilted her head slightly, cupping his face delicately with her hand. matt smiled into the kiss.

“matt.” her voice bringing him back into the present. he felt his knee brushing against hers. this was going to be a long session.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

matt ended up staying over for a good four hours. they were actually productive and worked well together when they weren’t busy arguing with one another. addilyn noticed the change in matt’s demeanor, and brushed it off as him being tired. he was never this nice to her. addilyn wasn’t sure if nice was a good word to describe matt tonight. she would probably say something like spacey, or aloof. but they weren’t arguing, and that’s all that was important to her.

around 8:00, matt decided to call it a night. he needed to sleep well before is game tomorrow, and he couldn’t handle another five minutes alone with addilyn in her room. she was sitting a little too close to him, smiling too nicely, and looked too pretty. matt was losing his mind.

“do you want me to walk you down?” addilyn asked matt, closing her laptop, and turned to face him on the bed. matt shook his head no. “okay, well, i’ll see you tomorrow at your game.”

matt smiled weakly at her, wishing her a goodnight. he quickly packed up his belongings, leaving her room in rather a hurry. again, addilyn observed matt’s weird change in attitude today and waved to him as he left. she didn’t want to get her hopes up and think he was finally being nice to her. but she would admit that she actually liked being around matt tonight. he was kind of sweet when he wasn’t calling her every name in the book.

addilyn broke away from her thoughts when she saw matt’s bedroom light flick on. she looked up at him, finding he was already looking at her first. unlike every night this week, matt smiled at her. actually smiled, from ear to ear, and waved to addilyn. she smiled back at him, closing her blinds.

*₊˚ 𓂃✧

addilyn richardson,

stepped off the public transport bus, heading towards the ice rink. nick and chris’s game started at 2:30p.m., and she had just barely made it, getting there at 2:27. she hurried inside, making her way down the bleachers to sit with the triplet’s parents and older brother. she was nervous, to say the least. she’d never gone to a school game before, yet here she was, sitting in the very first row of her high schools hockey arena to watch them play their biggest rivals. somerville was considered a small town outside of boston, but it was a big enough town to have two high schools. addilyn looked around, seeing all her classmates sitting on the opposite side of the bleachers, all dressed head to toe in their school colors.

the buzzer buzzed, signaling the start of the period. the announcer began talking over the speakers that surrounded the arena, introducing both the teams. he announced away team first, and then the somerville team. addilyn watched in amazement as he named each player as they skated out onto the ice. the announcer called out chris, nick, and then matt, and addilyn watched as they all skated around the rink, waving to her and their family. she could have sworn in the split second matt passed her, he smiled at her.

after matt left addilyn’s last night, she could not stop thinking about him. she tossed and turned in her bed, replaying the way he looked at her, like he was absorbing every word she spoke. normally, he wouldn’t even look at her when she talked, but last night it was as if he was studying her face, trying to remember every detail of it like he’d be quizzed the next day on it. she realized in the overhead lighting of her bedroom how blue his eyes really were. it took anyone with a pair of working eyes to see matt was attractive, but addilyn felt she saw a secret side of him while he was up in her room. she noticed small details about him, like how he constantly felt the need to run his hands through his hair while he spoke, or how he bit his nails a lot when he listened to someone talk.

she watched the game intently, making small conversation with the triplets’ family. matt, nick, and chris were all really good hockey players. addilyn was stunned at how flawlessly they glided over the ice, passing the puck back and forth, barely even having to look up at one another. there was about a minutes left in the third period, and both teams were neck and neck, tied at 2. the rival team had the puck, and were heading towards the goal at top speed. the player who had the puck attempted to shoot, but matt extended his stick out, blocking it from reaching the goal. he quickly skated around the attacker, passing the puck to chris, who was playing as a center. chris skated as quickly as he could to the goal, passing the puck to nick who was near the goal at the last second as the defense from the other team swarmed chris, trying to posses the puck once more. the puck slid across the ice directly into nick’s stick, and he made his shot, the puck meeting the back of the opposing teams net as the buzzer went off and the game ended.

the somervile side of the arena erupted in cheers, everyone jumping up and down, hugging one another. addilyn watched chris and matt practically run over to nick across the ice, wrapping him into a huge hug, and the rest of their team joining the brothers. as the team split apart, chris, nick, and matt all skated over to where their parents resided with addilyn.

“you boys did amazing!” their mom gushed, blowing them each a kiss on the other side of the glass. addilyn nodded in agreement with her.

“i’m so happy you came, addy!” nick expressed, glancing over his shoulder watching the rest of the team skate off the ice and heading to the locker room.

“yeah, you need to come to our next one too.” chris told her, smiling wildly, putting his arms around his brothers.

“is she coming to lunch with us?” matt asked his brothers kind of quietly, as if he didn’t want to make it known to addilyn that he was asking about her. he looked over at his two brothers, breaking away from chris’ embrace.

the two boys looked at matt as if he had another head. was he actually inviting her somewhere? normally it would be the other way around, with matt huffing and puffing about having to spend more time than necessary with her. but matt was looking at chris and nick with a small look of plea in his eyes. chris turned to look at addilyn.

“come get lunch with us?” chris offered to addilyn, who stood still. she didn’t know if she could handle another day of being so close to matt if he wasn’t being mean to her. it was driving her crazy. but it was the good kind of crazy, that was making her stomach churn when he would smile at something, or make her hands clammy if they accidentally brushed with his to retrieve a pencil.

it's just matt, addy. the same matt who calls you annoying and a waste of his time, she tried convincing herself, he doesn't even like you.

“y-yeah, i'll go out with you guys. ” she nodded slowly. all three of the triplets grinned back at her.

𝐚/𝐧: PART FOURRRRR its starting to get so good ! this chapter is kinda shorter than i wanted but i didn't wanna make it too long lmfao. also i don't watch hockey so idk how to write it 😭😭 as always, i hope u all enjoy and if anyone wants to be on the tag list lmk!!! i love u all <333

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: @alorsxsturn @sturniolossss @cammie4298 @bussybandit1 @amorttentia @franticroads @sturnsssbow @cams5sos @strombolilovr @st7rnioioss @junnniiieee07 @mattscurlygirly @simply-a-simper

#© mattscoquette #writing 𓂃 𝜗𝜚 #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #fanfic

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