#and after everything i've seen and been through i have a really hard time believing that good dads actually exist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mooishbeam · 3 months

Text

『♡』 Brittle is Devotion

♡ featuring: ex-husband!toji x f!reader

♡ summary: it's been a while since you've seen your ex-husband, and on a drunken night, buried feelings emerge. wc: 12.2k+ (bruhhh)

♡ cw/tw: mentions of violence/blood, angst/comfort, rekindled feelings, rough sex, missionary, prone bone, full-nelson, overstimulation, cervix fucking, creampie, m/f receiving, throat fucking, sadism/masochism, dom/sub dynamics, squirting, fingering, praise/degredation kink, dumbification, edging, breeding kink, feral toji mmm, pet names (angel, sweetie, baby)

notes: good morning!! hope everyone is having a lovely day, i am so so so so sorry i haven't posted in so long i didnt abandon the account!! i've just been getting it together before the semester starts, and i didnt expect for it to be this long :(( im very tired but ill try to get some stuff out in the next couple of weeks, most likely long fics too. ty so much, and srry for any spelling mistakes. art by ilameys_ on ig! <;3 comments and reblogs are appreciated!

Picking up the pieces after Toji is rough. The divorce was bad enough, and you currently have an aching pain stilling in your chest that makes it hard to take the shallowest breaths. It hammers in the tight confines of your ribcage, and as you sob into your pillow the only relief you desire is sleep, so that you may have temporary solace from the grief wrecking your brain. Your new apartment feels entirely too shallow. There’s no crumby television to use because you were too broke to afford the higher-end appliances, or that creaking mattress you both squeezed into until you could thrift a reasonable headboard. You missed the 60s style tiles painted a horrific green in your kitchen, and the shower that ran out of hot water every other day. It was terrible, downright unlivable for most, but you had each other.

It hurts more because you love him. So much. Unbearably, to the point where you screamed at the top of your lungs until your throat scratched through angry hot tears, begging him to care for a moment, to give you a reason to stay. Countless times, threatening to walk out if he didn’t endeavor to change. But he never believed you. He thought you’d never leave, because all you had was him.

And it was true, for years it was. Toji was your dream man; funny and thoughtful. It wasn’t conventional kindness, but it was his. Money didn’t matter—even as you enjoyed a frozen meal on the floor of your empty apartment in the first couple months of moving in with him, you had a smile on your face. Even when your friends and family begged you not to marry him, because they couldn’t stand the sight of him and his arrogant, sometimes aggressive candor, you went on with it anyway. You knew who he really was at heart.

He was your first everything, you felt if he left, you’d melt to nothing and become a shell of who you once were, because Toji had become an extension of you. You waited for him to get home, had dinner, and slept through the outside commotion of cars and bar fights; his securing arm locked around you, hand cradling your head and legs intertwined. There was no one like him.

He knew that and got greedy.

To you, the change was fast, but it’d been spreading like a nasty mold for years. You’d sunk so deep you hadn’t noticed the drought until you reached the bottom. He taught you love, then pulled away; separated himself with additional shifts and pathetic excuses. In turn you punished yourself, showered him with heavier instances of love and endearment, and convinced yourself you needed to try harder. If the sex wasn’t daily, you gave him more. If he didn’t like the food, you learned how to be a better chef. If the house wasn’t clean, you scrubbed top to bottom. Wringing a tired towel, dry of sacrifice. Chasing after him until the soles of your feet blistered. Still, not a smidge of praise or approval came to fruition. When he did—which was rare—those peppered spaces ignited a lasting burn in your heart, keeping withering fire alive.

Soon, those fleeting kisses and distant pauses weren’t enough, and he didn’t care enough to change. You’d plead and cry at his feet, and he’d scoff and walk past you.

“We’ll talk about it later”, he’d say more often than not. You didn’t have the confidence to leave, and he consumed himself with whatever underground work he participated in, while you decayed in a declining marriage.

A grimace on his face, laid back on the couch and looking at you expectingly, as if you would drop to your knees and service him in a heartbeat—but you did exactly that. And you were tired, utterly tired of pulling the emotional and mental leaden baggage on your own. It was heavy, and you were crushing yourself underneath it. You still loved him with every inch of your being, and you’d do it all for him, but it couldn’t be just you anymore. He came home one fateful night to you sitting at the dining table, spotlighted under the stark glass pendant lamp in your dark apartment, dejection that foreshadowed the unfortunate end.

“Do you love me?” He gazed at your solemn face and scratched his head.

“Mhm.”

“Will you change?”

“No.”

That’s what you needed to hear. The next week, while he was at work, you gathered your clothes and measly possessions to leave. You sobbed the entire way through, shaking with uncertainty and fear of the unknown—unsure about a future without him. As you slid the dissolution of your marriage on the counter, the sudden reality made you unable to control your knees as you dropped to the floor, and tears spilled down your cheeks and freckled the papers. Luckily, Shoko was there to comfort you and help pack your things. The corners of that confinement spared a gentle, loving memory, and vitriol was left in its wake. Turning back to its hollowness for the last time, you imagined Toji, plopping onto the couch as he’d usually do to watch some late-night television show or going to bed. Like you weren’t there.

Maybe you never mattered in the first place.

It’s been a year since, and things are looking up for you. An opportunity surfaced in a field you were interested in applying for, and you miraculously got the job. Moving over a city helped you adjust to your new life—that, and a bottle of dark burning liquor. No matter how much you mindlessly typed at your computer or partied with coworkers, you couldn’t stomach the pit gorging through you, a hole that surfaced everything you’d been burying.

You’re not prepared to face the forlorn mock of your bleached walls today. As you pry your eyes open, the flickering shimmers through your sheer curtain cast across unattended sheets, soothed by stuffed animals strung along the comforter. You reach for something that isn’t there in your groggy state—a gentle reminder that your morning would be just as empty as yesterday.

Today isn’t any other; it’s what would’ve been your five-year anniversary. One year, of new beginnings and new friends. A year of solitude.

You don’t bother slinking out of bed. The accumulation of tasks awaiting you is more daunting than the actual execution. In an attempt to regain control of your life, you established a healthy routine. It entails waking up at early hours to exercise and work on projects and meal prep, and ending your night early with extra exercise and skincare. It was amazing at first and quelled your sadness. What they didn’t inform you of, was the spectacle; the appearance and perception of perfection, and not the struggles or gradual burnout of maintaining that lifestyle. When the distraction died down, and work and social activities became a congealed, monstrous chore, you quickly resented those limp salads and vomit-inducing runs.

You expel a loaded sigh and pull the covers over.

The vibration of the phone buzzing on your stomach peels your eyes awake. You allow it to pass, but it rings again. From a frustrated exhale, your languid hands muster the strength to flip to its notification; Shoko’s calling.

“Hello?” you mutter, fatigue caught in your throat.

“Fuck, you sound like hell!” she replies. The repetitive clack of office keyboards and analog phones being slammed by stressed out coworkers distorts the background. Thank God I used my paid time off.

“I love you too, Shoko.”

“Sorry, didn’t mean it like that…you ok?” It’s much sweeter. Shoko has always been a supportive friend, perhaps bordering on too supportive. You cherish her motherly concern, and rather vulgar honesty.

“Mm, I’ll manage.”

“I can come over after work.” You flip onto your back, soaking in the mild sunlight.

“S’alright, I’m sure you’re busy, and I might sleep in. Wallow in sorrow for a few hours.” Shoko drawls a dramatic groan and creaks back in her chair.

“Nothing good comes out of feeling sorry for yourself. Go to the club or somethin’.”

“‘N how’s that gonna help?”

“Better than whining at home. Wear something sexy, look pretty and get laid. That’s how I get over shit.”

“Mm, right. I don’t know if that’s gonna work” you giggle, toying with one of the ears on your stuffed bunny.

“Oh yeah, forgot you’re the born-again Virgin Mary now. You know… if you want to get over ‘him’, you have to take the first step.” You can envision her air quotations. She treats his name as forbidden speech, and regularly refers to it in conversation as “he who shall not be named.”

“Ugh, mother Shoko’s speaking.”

“Listen, it may or may not work. Don’t knock it ‘till you try it is all I’m saying.”

“Yea? Well, if he has a tiny dick, I’m blaming you.”

“Nothing wrong with shellfish.”

The last curl falls in place, and you follow it up with copious amounts of hairspray. Fanning your bathroom after a drawn out coughing fit, you get a good look at your figure in the mirror. The backless lacy black dress you’re wearing hugs you in all the right places and guides the detail sitting tight under your butt. It’s undoubtedly revealing, coupled with strappy heels and a dark cat eye.

You walk past your vanity and pause at the messy jewelry box, riddled with remnants of Toji’s adoration. Sparkling varieties of heavy necklaces and rings and precious diamonds; ninety percent of your jewels were because of him. You’d asked if he stole the items he gifted you, and he’d come up with an elaborate sarcastic story about a jewelry heist he carried out, and how appreciative you should be. Buried underneath rested your engagement ring, a sparkling cut that crowded your entire finger. You couldn’t bring yourself to pawn it, opting to occasionally revel in its beauty before shoving it in a far corner with your feelings.

Shoko wasn’t lying about how sexy you’d feel dolled up, and it shows in your confidence as you modeled around your bedroom, striking poses to no one. Your plushies weren’t very appreciative of the full-blown fashion show, but you hadn’t felt like this for a long while. Maybe it was about time you entered the dating scene.

The entrance to Infinity appears as a run-down tacky club from an outdated era, and it’s easy to miss the multicolored flashes dotting the black tinted glass on each side. A few steps past the black and white checkered vestibule, and you get to experience the scale of a roaring, clashing club. It’s not half as lively on the outside; sweat dripping under twinkling lights of multicolor, bodies colliding and moving to the melodic sway of erratic music vibrating through the floor, freely drowning and expelling their insecurities, deepest struggles. It’s both welcoming and hopeless.

A woman balances her shot glass as she gyrates against a stranger while another stumbles off the dance floor in a drunken stupor. The heat and screams are overstimulating, circulating around you. You consider withdrawing, especially since you held some reservations about partying solo. However, this is what you need, to get comfortable with doing things by yourself.

So you down shots, two, three, burning of different varieties that heighten your body temperature and nerve. You throw back a mix of dark and white liquor, a dangerous combo that dizzies your vision and runs up an unfathomable tab you can't afford. The strangers accompanying you at the counter encourage you. No rational thoughts, let alone decision making, register in your alcohol-sodden mind. Like strings being fielded by a puppeteer, your legs move on their own to the dance floor.

It’s hot. The blurring iridescence bends to produce shapes that make your fuzzy brain giggle for some odd reason. You’re moving in slow motion, and the world’s continuing at max speed. You don’t care either way. You’re light on your feet, and the music goads you to dance. Spinning, hands tangled between your locks traveling down the curve of your thighs, hearing the lyrics inside and out as if no one is watching.

You dance with women and men alike, anyone willing to help you overlook your heartache. It’s floaty, an airiness that spills sober thoughts from cotton mouth and makes every touch electrifying. It’s in your legs and arms, your restless feet and fingers. You laugh hysterically, incomprehensibly, and switch to sadness in a heartbeat. These aimless bodies, just as lost as you, drinking to your despair. Was it worth the abyss tomorrow held, or the agonizing headache as a result?

After those dances, mainly flailing efforts at rhythm, your head is barreling. You’re suffering from a heavy case of vertigo at the slightest turn, and your stomach’s riddled with knots. It hits you like a car crash, and you strive to stabilize yourself as bile fills your throat, cringing when you reluctantly swallow. A disorienting slurry of words and faces ask you things you cannot hear or see, and it suddenly becomes too real.

In few sparse moments, your life plays before you in stop motion. From heaving over the toilet while a lady with long nails held your hair back, to knocking the drink out of someone’s hand on your way out. Now you’re walking on one heel and holding the other. You might’ve popped a nail if not for security holding the door open. They attempt to flag you, but you reply with a curt slurred “‘M fine.”

You push your knees together, sitting on the corner of a curb. This isn’t how you expected the night to end. It’s pitch black beside street lamps, and awfully quiet in contrast to inside. Shivers ripple through you despite the persistent warmth pooling in your ears. You lean on a street lamp in the calm cold as people leave, probably running to participate in intimate affairs with their acquaintances. The gentle hand on a waist or shoulder forms a subconscious smile; young, passionate love blooming on a random night.

And you burst into tears.

Ugly tears streaming down your face in blobs that don’t stop no matter how much you wipe them, followed by deep sniffles. They smear across your phone while you search for a taxi app, and your cloudy eyes deceive you.

You jolt when a hand brushes against your arm and turn to meet the foggy face of a man with stubble. You wipe your wet cheeks and lean further from him.

“Hey baby, you alright?” The pet-name makes you shudder. You definitely don’t know him, and at this point there’s no one outside.

“Wh’re you?” you garble.

“Kusakabe. Where ya off to?”

“Waitin’ for uh frien’” Your eyelids waver, failing to stay alert under the frightening stare burning holes through your skull.

“A friend, huh…you gotta man?” he asks, stepping closer to you. You back away to the side of the light.

“Go away.” You’re definitive, but he laughs as if it were the ridiculous request of a child.

“I like that dress. You look hot.” His hand drags along the strap of your dress, but you nudge his hand.

“Mm’get off me. N’don’ need your help.” He scoffs with offense, and as you go to leave, he grabs your wrist firm.

“Relax. Tryna go home with someone tonight?” You’re trembling, tugging with as much force as you can muster in your punch-drunk state, but he doesn’t budge.

“L’ve me alone”

“Don’t be like that, baby. I’ll call a cab-”

Whack! Your wrist goes limp, and the crunch and crack of flesh hitting concrete echoes. You sluggishly pan to him, knocked out cold beyond the spotlight. The influence takes you, however, and you nearly find yourself joining him on the sidewalk. Before you can fall, a broad, rough hand supports your lower back. Their deep gritty tone is inches away from you.

“C’mon, sweetheart.”

You rise from an unusually sweet slumber. The light shines through your eyelids, unavoidable even when you maneuver the velvety warm blanket for shade. Your eyeballs shift across thin skin being prodded by intrusive sun, and as they crack open, you catch a glimpse of the glass coffee table in front of you, arranged with perfection resembling a furniture showroom. You smile to yourself half-asleep, wondering when you bought such an expensive item, and how an abundance of sunlight made its way through your average window. You’re drifting off anew.

Then, you shoot up.

You start to really take in the surroundings, and when you do, a pit drops in your stomach. An ultra-wide flat screen television faces you, decorated with plants on either side. Craning your neck, the long windows of this penthouse line the adjacent wall up to the ceiling, which hangs a glass geometric chandelier. This isn’t your bedroom, nor your apartment.

Instantly you switch to sitting, and recoil just as fast. Pain envelops the wrinkles of your brain, and you wince from abrupt tension. You palm the bridge of your nose.

“Fuck” you whisper. Last night replays in your head through staccato bursts, though you couldn’t remember the minutes before you passed out. Embarrassment creeps onto your ears at the freak show you performed hours ago. You’d made a fool of yourself, puked and tripped like a sloppy drunk college girl. You can’t be more ashamed, and to top it off, you’re in the house of a stranger you possibly slept with. You look down from the smooth sectional sofa, and notice your heels arranged neatly beneath you with your phone and bag. At the very least, the man you engaged with seems to be accommodating.

You scurry to put your heels on, and hopefully sneak out in silence before you face further humiliation. Something about this blanket smells familiar; musk and oakmoss and man, grazing across your nose like the aroma in an intimate embrace, the earthy dew of calm before a storm, a trace only you can understand.

“Finally up?”

It’s that gravelly smoky voice you lived in for five years, and some before that. The voice you fell asleep to, mumbling nonsense in your ear through boorish snores. The voice you fell in love with, easily saying “I do” when you wedded at the courthouse. The voice you resent, saying nothing at all when you cried.

You look behind you, and there he is, walking down the staircase. He’s wearing boxers, settled under the tufts of hair running down his belly button. His rugged muscles peek out from the untied black robe dangling to his strong calves. His hair grew out a bit since you’ve last seen him, shaggy bedhead running across his eyes and covering his ears.

He smirks the same, though, sweet and soft for such a dour man, like nothing ever happened, approaching you while you sneer at the cruel joke bestowed upon you.

“Toji.” You haven’t said it in forever. It’s abashing how quickly your regularly tense shoulders relax in his proximity.

“How ya feelin’? Hope the couch was comfortable enough, figured you wouldn’t wanna sleep in my bed” he says, rubbing the back of his neck as he stretched his sturdy back.

“It was fine.”

There's an awkward quiet afterwards. The air’s thick, glass straining under pressure, threatening to give way at the smallest disturbance.

Toji clears his throat. “So, um...you need somethin’? Water?”

“No” you bark, folding your arms across your chest. You can’t look at him, not without feeling enraged. You’re the afterthought, the chaser, rushing after a man who wouldn’t dare look twice. “How’d you even know I was there?”

“Coincidence” he replies, and you scoff. He couldn’t get away with lying to you; playing games with moves you’ve lost to countless times.

“Like hell it was a coincidence. I’m in a completely different city now, what were you doing there?” You have to physically bite back the words begging to spill from your mouth as his head wanders in thought, possibly concocting another fabrication.

“Had business”

“Oh, I’m supposed to believe the man who hates keeping a job had ‘business’. Okay.” You don’t acknowledge the extravagance of the apartment he must be paying for monthly. That, or a chain of illegal activities—whatever assumption suited your irritation in the moment.

“Well, ya wouldn’t believe me no matter what I said, anyway” he chides. You’re a shaken bottle ready to explode, and his nonchalant demeanor only eggs you on. Toji’s perpetually dismissive, looking down on you like a pitiful puppy.

“Because you’re always full of shit” you snap. He exerts a loaded sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, as if he had any right to be tired of the situation.

“’M not lyin’.”

“Right.” You observe your surroundings more. It’s too opulent, pricey vases you wouldn’t expect from the ex-husband that once thought hanging jackets in the doorway was “decoration.” Definitely not fit for a single guy. You’re separated, and you know it's not your responsibility to keep tabs on his sex life, but that caviling thought won’t stop taunting you. How could he get over it so soon?

“If you were just gonna bring me back to your fuck pad, I should’ve slept on the curb. Who knows how many girls you’ve had here.”

He gets eye-level, sitting on the coffee table with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together like a drained salaryman, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me? You can’t be serious. Like you never do anything wrong, like everything that’s happened until now is somehow my fault and you did nothing, nothing, to contribute to the bullshit. Stop acting like a fucking victim.”

“Little lady, you got shitfaced, and some guy was tryna take your drunk ass home. You’re lucky you went home with me instead.”

“I could’ve handled it; I don’t need you for anything-”

“You could barely keep your eyes op-”

“I would’ve handled it! Just like I handle everything else. Alone. Every time. It gets done, I’m not incompetent, Toji!”

You could hear a pin drop in the stillness. Those forested eyes are gazing into your soul. It’s said and done, and you’ve got it off your chest, yet it hurts like a freshly sliced gash. The arguing doesn’t change, married or not. It sucks when you shout, uncontrollable like a blazing fire, only to be snubbed out by his calm, condescending tone.

“...I know.”

You can’t take it, it’s stifling being near him. Wounds loosely covered by band aids seem to peel at his presence, and you’re stuck at his mercy again. You can’t give him the satisfaction of crying in addition to the drunk, poor decisions you made, hardening your expression as you fumble for your phone.

“Take me home” you demand. Toji stands with an exaggerated stretch on both arms, painfully slow. Before you can hurl your phone at him from the dramatics, he looks down on you with that intoxicating gaze.

“Are ya hungry?”

You furrow your brows, and hastily put on the other shoe. Turning on your heels, you go to leave, and are immediately stopped by Toji's calloused hand holding your wrist. You don’t watch, but his palm is gentle. You could smoothly slip out and exit his apartment, forget this engagement and continue a peaceful, isolated life. You’d move on eventually—perhaps to bigger, happier jobs and romances.

Despite that hopeful outcome, you remain.

“I don’t wanna eat. If you don’t take me home, I'll call a cab.”

“I’ll take ya home, just...look, I know you’re hungry, and I’m down to eat at a diner down the block. Don’t worry about a thing, I’ll pay for it.” Toji isn’t known for being docile, but with his curved posture almost leaning into you and dejection in his eyes, you swear he’s searching for pity.

“I said I’m not-,” The untimely arrival of your dinning, rumbling stomach cuts off any excuse. A corner of his mouth upturns, and your face contorts to scorned pride.

“...Fine. Let’s make it quick.”

“Great. Can’t have ya walkin’ around like that, though.” He pans to your chest. You haven’t thought to give your outfit a glance, but when you do, your eyes grow wide. The entirety of your conversation with Toji, your chest was spilling out the dress, and now part of your areolas is exposed. You cover up the top, but he stares with an x-ray's invasiveness. You reprimand him, swatting his chest;

“Pervert!”

There was an added benefit to being around Toji; the way people cleared a path for him and treated him with frightened kindness, afraid that pissing off the physically intimidating man would land them a one-way ticket to the nearest hospital.

They weren’t exactly wrong, and you have a satisfied pep in your step as people scoot aside. He strides in front of you to get the door, and you mutter a small “thank you.”

Sweet fluffy pancakes and charred grills mingle with faint notes of bleach. At least he knew better than to take you to a fancy establishment, especially since you were wearing a baggy t-shirt from him, and basketball shorts you had to tie around the waistband. His massive slides had you flopping across the dining aisle as you got to your booth. He’s not particularly dressed either, wearing matching shorts and a compression top.

It’s hard not to perceive the way women ogle him, drooling at the way his biceps flex when he raises the menu, and his chiseled jaw tensing while he ponders the food options. It was a notable problem when you were married. They’d glare at you, shower him with compliments in front of you, and you’d shrink yourself. Occasionally the waiter would pretend you don’t exist as she swayed her hips at every little thing Toji said. If they want him, they can have him. It’s not your business, right? It’s no different with this waiter, twirling the curl of her hair as Toji reiterates his order, shifting from one leg to the other to highlight her curves.

Not my business. You're nauseous.

Not my business. Your fists clench underneath the table.

Your head’s swimming in thoughts, uncertainty crashing down like a wave upon your increasingly loud intrusions. You drown within yourself, until you’re pulled out by a thumb travelling up your hand, and other fingers clasping around it.

“Watcha wanna order, angel?” You regain composure, and when you blink, Toji is waiting for you. The waiter side-eyes you and the joining of your hands.

“You lost? Take her order” he spat.

The food's steaming hot and fresh, and you salivate at the plate in front of you. Toji snatches your bacon before you can, and you begrudgingly watch as he breaks the strips into two pieces, the way you like it. He winks, and you groan. You coat your strawberry pancakes with maple syrup, trespassing territory around the scrambled eggs and bacon, and he laughs across from you.

“What’s funny?”

“Never stopped drowning your breakfast in syrup” he ribs. You pout and swirl your bacon, “It makes it taste better.”

Soon, food in your belly aided your dialogue, and the old banter returned; an easygoing flow, similar to a lifelong friend you hadn’t spoken to in decades. You giggle between bites and gossip about mutual rumors.

"What you been doin’ since..." Toji trails off, falling short of “divorce”—a word he never wants to say.

"Shoko recommended me to her boss, so I'm working uptown now. Pay's okay, nothing to write home about."

"S'good. Livin comfortable?"

"As comfortable as I can be"

"Real humble. Guessin’ it's better than before" he jokes, though you sense a displace in his bearing at the nervous grin he flashes. You reach onto to his side and grab one of the grapes off his plate. You pop one in your mouth, "So, what drug ring got you that house?"

"The cartel. Good vacation time, too" he jests.

"Nice. at least it's not that shitty garbage gig you had for a while."

"It did pay well."

"Yeah? Couldn't get rid of the rotten milk and vomit smell for weeks after. Remember I made you shower at Geto’s apartment?"

“Heh, yeah, he was fuckin’ pissed” he laughs, stealing a piece of sugary bacon from the syrup pool. "I'm a CEO, run a company downtown."

"Ooo, look at you. Can't be little if it did this much for you" you say as you gesture at the empty dishes on the table. Restaurants were a luxury in your household.

"I guess. I had a vision, and some people believed in me”, he pokes at the leftover blueberries, “I finally made it happen, that counts for something, right?"

You pick another off his plate, smile stretching, "You're a natural born leader. People will follow you regardless, even if it's not the right choice."

His eyebrows raised in surprise, "That's the first good thing you said about me today."

"Don't get used to it."

You wait for Toji to retrieve his car after walking back to his apartment. You’re awestruck in many ways; he paid for the whole meal with a black card and showed undying manners. He bowed to your requests. You’re smarter than this, though. This is his opportunity to get on your good side, and he’s showing the best version of himself. However, it fills your heart with want—like the initial dating phase, those butterfly stricken, heart-numbing, sappy gestures that made you melt.

He wraps around the car to open your door, and you plant yourself in the sleek beige interior. Your eyes flick to the veins in his forearm straining as he steers, his deadpan focused expression and the composed R&B music low in the background. It starts to drizzle, and raindrops plink the car roof.

You feel complete; And that alone is a dreadful reality.

The scar on his lip twists to a smile, “Did’ya like the food?”

You turn your nose up, “it was satisfactory.” He snickers, and navigates to the street your apartment is on. “Shit, I gotta give you your clothes back.”

“Forget it, bring it when you get the chance.” Chance. He expected to see you again. You hang your head as he approaches the complex. You didn’t want today to end, but this is it. You’ll leave this car and go your separate ways. This is how it should be.

You place an earnest hand on his shoulder and cast a smile. The corners quiver and your first syllable wobbles, but you finally speak, “I’m proud of you, Toji. I mean it. You’re going to do great things, and I’m always rooting for you.”

He swallows stiff, and suddenly he’s sickly pale. Something within you is pleased at that reaction; if he wants redemption, he should beg and drop to his knees and crawl for forgiveness, he should lock himself up for your eyes only and cut off everyone else in his life. You’re walking away a second time, rightfully so, but you struggle to decipher what you want in this moment. He palms your hand, staring at you, “I’m all for praise, but tell me when we meet again”

“Toji, there can’t be a next- “

“Give me your phone.”

“Huh?” His urgency throws you off guard, “Don’t think, just give me your phone.” It’s impossible to kill the complicated slurry that is your mind, and a new bundle of thoughts emerges from his request, but for a heartbeat, you allow yourself to wander. Pitter patter and muted music, heated seats, the cologne radiating from Toji—all that exists.

You moved on instinct, and now your phone is in Toji’s hands. He's adding his contact information. He hands it back to you, fingers brushing against your soft skin.

“I won’t text or call you. ’S there whenever you need me. Move at your own pace and call me when you’re ready.” With that, you exit his car. No hug or gratitude, skipping goodbyes as you rush out the car. It’s bittersweet when he pulls off, and you’re left with the ghost of him.

The familiar click of your convoluted keys in the apartment door could bring you to tears. You’ve officially reverted to your mundane, boring lifestyle. The walls look duller today.

You curiously click on his contact, and giggle at the name he assigned himself:

dumbass ex

tick, tock, tick, tock

The blue light beaming through your office computer is an eyesore, but you have little say in the matter. There's an upcoming deadline for these reports, you can’t waste precious skill complaining about circumstances out of your control. It’s tiresome, and you rove to the cobweb missing a string in the corner of the room, or the single drop of water roaming outside those wide sterile windows. The balls of your feet carry your flats as you absentmindedly push a pen against your lip.

Your concentration has been out of commission since meeting Toji. He kept his word and hadn’t called you whatsoever. A month passed, and still nothing. Be glad, you told yourself, get your goals back on track. Your exercises get vicious, from jogging to a full sprint, hoping that those buckets of sweat will shed off the extra weight of Toji’s abidance. The fruit bowl on your break offends you with mocking displays of strawberries and grapes. You’ve pondered deleting the contact entirely to repel enticement, but you can’t do it. It’s painfully clear that you miss him.

He’s horrible, callous and selfish. Of course, Toji had a way of showing up at your lowest to fill your head with empty promises and gestures of affection, that charming grin shooting daggers at your weakness. In his gaze, you’re defenseless, and in his arms, you’re exposed.

Albeit late, a pestering thought carves into you, unfortunate and disgraceful to the healing you strive to accomplish; message Toji.

A set of wheels rolls above the carpet, and you see Shoko, lifeless arms hanging beyond the armrests. The bags under her eyes signify stress from finalizing late papers.

“Unnghhhh, (Y/N), I can’t do it” she laments, drooping her head to the side. You pat the top of her hair, “I believe in you.”

“What are you working on?” She quirks a brow, and you stare at the screen with her. You’ve typed an entire page of straight gibberish. “I’m getting distracted too...”

“Let’s quit and tell her to shove it.”

“You know I can’t do that” you fuss as you backspace the document. “Mm, me neither. What’s got you zoned out?”

“Nothing in particular.” You’re afraid to tell Shoko of your rendezvous, she might become volcanic and fire magma at the sound of any “-oji”.

“I know it’s not nothing. New boyfriend, hm?”

“S-something like that” you chuckle. She shapes an ‘O’ with her mouth, and wheels closer. Her bangs touch your eyebrows, and she rests her chin on her hand. Her usual dead eyes have a malicious twinkle in them.

“What’s he like? Is he tall or short?” she gasps, “did you meet him at the club? I told you it was a good idea; I really am the best advisor.”

You sigh, “It’s no one new.”

“Ooo, an old flame. Spicy. What’s his name?” You turn slowly, a nervous bite on your lips. She studies your face, and slowly hers drops.

“Do not fucking say it.”

“Shokoooo” you whine, searching for sympathy from her. Instead of that, your body is shaken violently as she whisper-yells, “Are you kidding? Get a grip! What’s gotten into you, you were fine!”

“But I wasn’t. It sucks, I feel lonely all the time.”

“You felt lonelier with him than without him!”

“I know, but...” You ball your lips in with furrowed brows, and she holds her breath.

“I wanna go see him” you squeak. Instantly, she squishes your cheeks with both hands to hold you in place.

“Absolutely. Fucking. Not.”

At home, you pace back and forth in front of the phone resting on your bed. Toji’s contact is open, and nausea is brewing in your stomach. You’re giddy and ill, working up the courage to press “call”. You really should be practicing Shoko’s advice, but you’ve long surpassed common sense. You leave and come back, spying on it from a distance. Eventually, you forgo the theatrics and grab the phone to hit the messenger app.

Three dots vanish and resurface. You can’t get it right:

'Hey stranger I got custody of ur clothes rn'

'Hey haha I missed u can I come over?'

'Yo what’s up? Still have ur clothes do u want them?'

'I’m coming to give u ur stinky clothes'

This shouldn’t be complicated, and you don’t usually perform the process of elimination for simple responses, but it’s Toji. You’re scrambling and overanalyzing, reiterating your choice of slang only to delete it all over again. You settle for a simple message. “Hey Toji, I wanted to return your clothes. Let me know when you’re available. Thanks”

Once you hit send, you run a marathon around your bedroom, tippy tapping to expel your anticipation. The churning grows as seconds pass, and so does your doubt. You tiptoe to the phone as if a displaced floorboard would activate the alarm. You’re about to tap the screen, and then your ringtone plays.

Oh god.

You take a deep breath and swipe right on the faceless profile picture labeled “dumbass ex”.

“…Hello?”

“Hey, angel.” You avoid a dull pound in your chest at the memorable pet name. “So, um-“

“I wanna see you. I’m available now, and I’ll be home by the time you get here” he states, direct and confident. His conviction validates yours, you bend to his direction.

“Okay then. I’ll start getting ready.”

“I’ll send a cab to your address. See you soon.” When he hangs up, you dive into the pile of plushies. Squeezing them for emotional support, kicking your feet in the air as you scream into your ruffled pillows like a girl’s first crush. You have a long night ahead of you.

You access Toji’s building. He must’ve notified them you were coming, as the doors were open upon arrival, and a bellhop was sent to guide you to his floor. You’re standing outside of it, clothes and a bottle of champagne in hand. Your stretchy maxi dress clings to your figure, complimenting the juicy shade of lip gloss you’re wearing—the shade he loved most on you during your marriage. You ring the bell, and it doesn’t take long before he opens the door. The scene you’re exposed to swells heat between your legs.

Toji has nothing but a towel shimmied low on his hips, v-line adorned with veins and biceps corded with muscle. He’s trimmed his hair since your last encounter, and it’s dripping wet along with the rest of his soaked body. You’ve interrupted his shower apparently, but he didn’t hesitate to rush to the door, water cascading from the raven veil, sluicing down his sculpted chest. He had to have done this on purpose, but you weren’t complaining at this point; he looked damn good doing it. You can’t disengage from the beads branching amid his pecs and through his happy trail. God, you wish you were water personified right no-

“You’re staring, dollface” he teases with a smirk. Your eyes snap to his, and you remember to breathe. You clumsily hold up the liquid peace offering, “Brought a little something.”

“Thanks. Make yourself comfortable, I’m gonna get dressed.” You nod, and he marches upstairs. You don’t need comfortability; you need to be in and out of here before you do something you’ll regret.

But...is that cedarwood and vanilla? The interior gives off romantic energy at night, attractive dim lighting throughout and dull flickering pops of his fireplace in the living room. You find the source of that heavenly scent sitting on his kitchen island, and awkwardly place the bottle down. You don’t know what to do with yourself, more so you don’t know what to say. It’s hard to recite a script when things aren’t going according to plan. Did you want to apologize, or force him to apologize? Maybe you should’ve cursed him out, rehashed his asshole behavior from the past until he drowned in guilt. You want to kiss and slap him, cry in his arms until your voice gives out and disappear all at once.

There’s a beautiful clear vase in the center, crammed with your favorite flowers, and your fingers dance across the petals. “You like ‘em?” he asks stepping into the kitchen. His hair’s still saturated, but he’s sporting grey sweatpants and a black ribbed tank top. “They’re very pretty.”

“They’re for you.”

You switch between his playful expression and the burst of colors, “You don’t have to do that.” The bouquet evokes recollections of heated arguments—anytime he’d angered you to tears, and you slammed that bedroom door in his face, you always woke up to similar flowers on the floor. They were cheap, but it meant more than money; because despite the fights and disagreements, it let you know that he’d love you regardless.

“I wanted to. As thanks for bringing my clothes.” He’s pacing towards you, and you’re bound to the floor like melting wax. His gaze is captivating, and you’re entranced by the verdurous ardor that won’t deter from you.

“Thank you”, you say as he looms above you and inspects the scripture on the pale bottle. His large thumb blocks the intricate lettering he’s trying to read, “I should be thanking you. Didn’t think you’d ever message me.”

You can feel the body heat radiating off him, the airy words as he mouths the contents. His eyebrows furrow to follow his focus, while you lose yours.

“I-I should probably get going-” Without delay, Toji blocks your side with an iron grip on the island, trapping you in the confines of his broad wingspan.

“Leaving so soon? You got plans tonight?” Saying and doing are completely different stories, and from the way your feet haven’t moved, you aren’t in a rush to go anywhere.

“Not really, but I worked today and I’m kinda tired-”

“Then what better way to unwind than with a bottle? I can’t drink this by myself, might as well keep me company” he suggests, persuasion to a greater extent when your lower back hits the bar. A drink or two couldn’t hurt, right?

“I guess I can stay for a few minutes.” Toji flashes a victorious toothy grin and retrieves cups from the sink cupboard. He gives you a rounded glass, and his muscles flex below candlelight as he maneuvers the cork at an angle.

“Let’s crack this open” he says, popping the cap off and pouring a substantial amount of golden fizz into both cups.

Toji raises his glass, “A toast.”

You tilt your head but raise yours as well. “To what?”

“Us.”

Us is a funny thing—with enough effort, it becomes you and I just as quickly as it formed. You don’t know if you’re willing to accept the responsibility of eternity. The devastation of commitment could damage you forever. There’s no us, but there’s you and him. So, you clink your glass, “To us,” and his eyes never leave yours as he takes a swig. It lasts a lifetime among longing breaths and unsaid words.

He brings the champagne to the living room, “I’ll turn on a movie. You know that cheesy romcom shit you used to watch? They made a sequel.” You fall flat on containing your excitement. He grabs the remote and lays back with his thighs spread apart.

Toji pats the couch, “Come sit. Don’t worry, I won’t bite.” You hardly believe that, but you remove your heels and relax upon overstuffed cushions. You opt to sit farther on the couch, and there’s an annoyed twitch on his lip at your display of boundaries. Nevertheless, he starts the movie.

Toji’s not particularly sneaky. He announces multiple bathroom breaks, returning to a spot on the couch that’s inconspicuous, but inching closer to you. The intent becomes clear when the ghost of his shoulder knocks against you, spreading his thighs wider to brush against the softness huddled into your snug figure. You’re half paying attention to the cliché performance, and half observing Toji. It’s hard not to smile when he behaves like a disobedient dog obligated to sit.

It’s cute that he arced himself to be eye-level with you. His tank rode up to expose his lower abdomen, and he adjusts himself in his sweats, jaw occasionally clenching. It could be the drink talking, perhaps you’ve had too many.

The movie ends, and you exhale a sigh of relief. “I forgot how corny this shit is.”

Toji shrugs, “I didn’t think it was too bad.”

“No way, you actually liked it?” you gasp. He huffs out his nose, smiling, “People change.”

“I’m shocked” you quip. Dusk creeps into a descending sunset, and you steal a glance at your phone screen. Bright as day, a notification from Shoko emerges. “NO TOJI >:("

You’re stumped thinking of a reply, one that doesn’t compromise your less-than-ideal situation, when Toji puts his hand over the screen. “Hope I’m not gettin’ ya in trouble.”

“Like you care.” He chuckles and slides it to the far side of the couch. “You’re right. Let’s watch another.”

This next movie's decent; a flat racing plot with excessive sequels. He unleashes an exaggerated yawn, extending his triceps to land behind your head. You quirk a brow at him, and he plays innocent. “You look cold” he says. You don’t care as much as you pretend. His pads trace the shell of your burning ear down to the lobe, to fine hair at the end of your neck. His rough hand massages the back of your head, and you lull to his chest. Be it the champagne or his actions, it’s too hot for comfort. Clamping your thighs shut spurs the intensity. His other hand languidly tests the limits of your skin, gossamer touches from your knee to your thigh. It's asking, and when you don’t object, he invites the entire palm to your knee, rubbing delicately. He brings it to your upper thigh, and retreats to the outside, getting dangerously close to your rear. The worst part is it’s not that bad. It’s intimate. Warm.

Loving.

It takes you a minute to comprehend you’re tearing up, but Toji recognizes that hushed sniffle. Airy and choked, quiet as to not be a burden. He circles a hand around your waist and pulls you impossibly close. He tilts your chin to his gaze, soft and deceptively gentle when he asks.

“What’s wrong pretty, hm?” You say nothing through the constrains in your throat, streaking the tears that fall faster than you can wipe them. This man alone can reduce you to mush with a wave of his hand. He bares your rawest state and sculpts you back together with such purity, such devotion, that you’d plead for him to sink his clay sodden fingers into your nothing, and make you everything.

“Tell me, and I’ll fix it.”

You say just above a whisper, “You’re selfish, you know that?”

“Mhm, I know” he nods, grazing his thumb across your lip.

“This isn’t healthy for us; we can’t heal like this.” He angles your head with his half lidded gaze, polishing your damp undereyes.

“I don’t need healing. I need you.”

You find passage in his hair, and surrender to temptation.

You test with a smooch. Then another. Then a series of tender, sugary kisses are pushed upon his pliant lips, and he responds in kind. You curl your fingers through his tresses as you explore the contours of his lips for what feels like the first time. Toji isn’t known for patience, but the sensation of his mildly dry lips getting smoother from your supple kisses gives him the will to savor this moment. You push and pull from each other, indulging in the messy smacks and caresses. You stop amid shared breaths to skim and nudge his yearning lips, diving into more hungry kisses. Toji abruptly lifts you over him, and you deepen its bruising passion.

You lick his bottom lip, and he groans, parting his mouth to allow your entry. You traverse the pink mass, interlacing in a wet feverish exchange. Your mind is numb, and the heartbeat in your core strikes stronger when your tongues intertwine. Toji hikes your dress up and slinks his massive hands over the plush fat of your rear. He earns a muffled moan from you as he kneads and gropes, and you feel his smirk against your lips. He grips your ass and starts to grind your hips on the bulge in his pants, a silent beg for any amount of friction. You wind with his movements, consuming him, and you hear a whimper get lost in the back of his throat.

You drag your teeth along his neck. You lick and suck in a few spots and decide to draw harshly on a responsive patch of skin while circling the fat of your pussy over his sensitive cock, taut in his boxers. His breath hitches, and he slaps your ass. “Fuck, baby please.” It’s rare to witness him begging like this, and you’re drinking it in. You lick up his Adam’s apple and pepper his jaw with kisses. “You like it?”

“Need more.” You bite his bottom lip for what seems like an exchange, but break away once he leans in. “Mm, be patient Toji.”

Your hands traverse the rugged muscle under his tank top. He aids in taking it off, and you rake over his breathless torso. You kiss along his pecs and lick the groove of his abs, delighting in the parts you missed during your separation. Toji has a tinge of red soaking his chest and ears, shifting uncomfortably from his throbbing cock when you bat your eyes as you slope to the floor. You slip a finger under his waistband, playfully running over its span, and snapping it from a peak. He hisses. You palm his erection, and he grinds into it.

“Wait” he husks. He reaches for a pillow and shuffles it under your knees. “Oh, thank you” you say, but it doesn’t look like he hears you in the chaos of tugging his sweatpants down to expose his boxers. The anticipation’s killing you, so you free his dick from its confinement.

You can’t forget the mouthwatering size. His girth meets his length with equal satisfaction. The base is tan, fading to a rosy tip and a faint curve. You committed his veins to memory, small ones embossing the sides and a prominent one meandering to his tip.

You maintain eye contact with him, hand steady on the base as you deliver taunting little licks to his frenulum. You precisely ring around his urethra and trace the veins, pulsating from the flick of your wrist. Toji hisses shaky curses and bucks, beefy thighs stiffening when you roll a flat strip to his leaking head and pump the base of his cock. He didn’t want to push you, but his whole body twitched in desire. “Your mouth” he groans. You react a coy ‘huh?’, tapping the head on your tongue and slathering it in saliva with cutesy doe eyes. He’s homed in on the strings of saliva connecting him to your tongue.

An undertone of desperation in his gravelly voice, “Whole thing. In your mouth,” he expends another shaky breath, “please.”

He bites his lip and stifles a moan, watching you engulf the cockhead in your mouth. You hollow out your cheeks while the underside of your tongue holds firm, and cautiously accommodate his size. It’s too big for comfort and it stretches the capacity of your plump spit-covered lips, but you work through the daunting pressure poking your reflex. You gradually relax, periodically gagging from an unprepared increase, and he twitches at your tightening throat. Your nose finally touches the hilt, flooded in his musk, and you start to suck. You bob leisurely, adjusting to the sense, and he subtly squirms in your touch.

Toji crinkles his brows when you release a pleasant pop on his tip, purely to observe his eyes rolling back when you wreck him in a noisy suction. Noise was no longer a factor—sounds of spit and dry retching overpowered the volume of the movie regardless. He holds your hair away from you to get a better view of your face, smothered with tears and mascara, drool ceaseless down your chin. “F-fuck, you’re so good, so, so good to me” he groans.

Your tongue swirls around him as you’re bobbing, and you accompany it with a tender massage to his balls. You cup and fondle them, using the lubrication from your spit to glide your fingers across. He sighs and grabs a handful of your hair. “Need to come. Keep that pretty throat open for me, yeah?”

He rapidly shoves you down to the hilt, and you wince before he continues at a relentless pace. You anchor his thigh for stability, and he throws his head back, fucking your throat raw. There's a sheen of sweat where his bangs stick to his forehead, and he emits an endless measure of moans the closer he gets. Rambling about nonsense, yes’s and curses as he stiffens. He treats your mouth like a flesh light, evident by the throat bulge disappearing and reappearing. You happily accept the searing jaw, swaying your ass from thrumming in your saturated panties damp to your inner thighs.

You can tell he’s about to climax because he goes completely quiet minus the panting, open mouthed with his head back. You resume massaging his balls, and he shoves you to the base, “C-coming” he moans. You grab onto him, and a squeak dies in your throat when he paints it white. He shakes, groans for each spurt coating your mouth, pumping the last of his semen as you swallow.

Toji shudders when he pulls out, and his panting returns to a soft huff. You expected him to be spent, or at least sit in the aftershocks for a while until he calmed down. But he tightens the grip on your hair and forces you to look up. “Show me” he husks. You stick your tongue out, proof you swallowed every bit. “Now c’mere”, he guides you into a filthy French kiss, devouring you with much more dominance than before. It’s as though your nearness restored him. You can hardly stand your feeble knees and sopping core, but Toji takes care of it for you. With unnatural vigor, he lifts you over his shoulder, and marches up the stairs. “Ah, Toji, maybe you should take a sec-”

He swats your butt harsh, and you yelp from the sting. “Don’t fuckin’ tell me what to do. You’ve been so mouthy, a damn tease, too. You’re gonna regret it.”

You’re ferried into the rather plain bedroom lined with dim hues, and a wide ceiling length mirror opposite the bed. He tosses you on the dark gray bedding and climbs over you. Your heart’s racing with thrill. Toji yanks the dress over your head, uncovering the sheer white lacey bra, similar to your underwear.

He stares like you’re a piece of meat, feasting on your flawlessness not yet smothered in hickeys and bruises, your nipples at attention under the fabric. “It’s all for me, huh?” he whispers, lust rolling off his tongue. You nod, because it’s always been for him, whether he was here or not. He buries himself in your cleavage and hums in satisfaction. His touch sends goosebumps to your skin and keeps your back arched when he drags a pad along your spine. Then your bra unclasps, and he removes it carefully, as if he didn’t want to spoil the surprise by unwrapping his gift too early. He gawks at them for an embarrassingly long pause, enough to make your cheeks hot, and you chide, “Stop staring.”

“Shut up, you’re gorgeous.” Toji submerges the bud, whirling around it while he roughly squeezes both breasts. He molds the dough of your breasts with strong palms, nips and tugs your nipple before soothing it with fierce tongue kisses. Consistent teeth grazing hikes your sensitivity before he trades it for sucking. When he switches to the other, he pinches the maltreated peak, eliciting a whimper. You merely bind your thighs and embrace the disarray being caused on your spit-soaked nipples. The cold air your abused tits receive as he withdrawals from suckling is nullified by the hickeys he leaves. You quiver from constellations of splotchy purplish red, delicious pain tingling throughout your torso. “Not so much, I have to go back to work soon” you moan, not very convincing.

“Even better; everyone’ll know who fucks you” Toji winks, and your heart skips. He dumps a nice vibrant bruise on your sternum, and advances to the dainty hem. He parts your thighs with ease, throwing them on his shoulder. Then he develops a haughty smirk.

You’re monitoring his face, until he presses a pad against your aching clit, and the subsequent juices overflowing from a huge wet patch. He plays with the spiderweb of slick between his digits, “Mm. Y’still my girl.” You blush as he sucks on them and licks his lips afterwards. Hooking under the panties, he pulls them taut, projecting the swell of your pudgy vulva in tightening lace. It sinks past your outer lips and cages your clit—you want to writhe from friction, but it makes it worse. He ghosts against you and kisses the print, and you want to scream. “Tell me what you want, or I won’t do it.”

“P-please...” you whine. You lock eyes, and you can hardly manage a word in the foreground of his intensity. How can he expect you to form coherent sentences when he sees through you like this? He gives a disappointed tut and puppeteers the strings, shifting them back and forth upon your neglected vulva. You cry out, and he cinches it together, isolating the part that pulses incessantly. He has an evil grin on his face, the bastard. “Details, baby.”

“Toji...please t-touch me alre-eady so I can come, m’sorry I won’t tease you again!” you promise, willing to do whatever it takes to reduce your sentence.

“And what else?”

“Your mouth on m-my pussy...please lick it.” You’re humiliated at the request that tumbles from your bottommost desires, but he’s satisfied. He’s never been one to shy away from dirty talk.

“Good girl.” Toji slithers your panties off, and you sigh from a loss of pressure just as his bangs tickle your pubic area. He interlocks your hands, a breath from eating you.

“You don’t look at me, I’ll stop. Think you can do that f’me?”

“Mhm!”

He hums in agreement and submerses into you. Toji’s a messy eater, especially when he’s desperate. He ovals the outer lips and precisely stirs your clit, and your stomach turns in knots from simple motions. He frames it and carefully winds around his capable tongue, really focusing on the spots that make your back curve; really focusing on your entry, as he teasingly digs in.

Toji cajoles a groan from his nose caressing your bud, then laps a level tongue over your wetness, truly tasting you. It isn’t long before his teasing farce began to crumble, and he obliged his ravenous appetite. He eats you starving, insatiable as he absorbs your twitching cunt and perfumed essence spilling down his chin. You clasp your hands, desire building in a trembling quake, but he doesn’t falter. He slurps your inner lips, and finally delivers proper care to your neglected clit. He hums a low vibration when he sucks, his pursed lips moving from a steady tongue to full on slobbering like some savage animal.

You appreciate the support his steady hands give your shaky ones. “Toji, hahhh coming” you whine, a familiar sensation flipping in your core. He lets his words fan onto you, “You know better” he husks. Your hips are bucking frantically, and so you whine, “Please, can I come sir, please please please please!”

“Hmm, I don’t know, you were ready to disobey me just now.” He says that, however the look in his eye is unrelated; it craves you, the want to make you squeal repeatedly until you’re on the verge of collapse. “’M can’t take it anymore, please let me come!” You urge your hips to his mouth, and meld into his warmth.

“Come on my face, pretty girl” he groans, just as hankering as you. He laps at your clit, and you sooner fall apart underneath him. Your whimpered plea forms an innocent sob as you spasm from overstimulation. Toji just doesn’t stop. His head careens against you, tasting everything your body has to offer. You’re suddenly regretting how badly you wanted to come.

“Toji- I-it’s too much” you protest, but it receives no response. Your release dribbles down his chin and he persists, ultimately unbinding when you lose a hold on his hands from the tremors. He diverges your lips and admires the way your mess clenches around air.

“Heh, you’re shaking. Cute.” He rubs the back of your legs, reassuring you in spite of his previous cruelty. You make a sad attempt at wiggling away, but he grabs you firm.

No running. Be good and hold your legs back.” He folds your legs to your shoulders, and you mewl, reluctantly wrapping your hands around them. ‘No’ isn’t a valid response at present.

Toji’s thumbs spread your wrinkling opening, and you feel a draft on its expanse before he spits directly into your hole. You jerk, startled, and he shushes you. He slathers his thick digits in your glistening strip, and smoothly sinks one inside. “Pussy so slippery for me. Miss this...miss you” he sighs, starting to pump. He prepares you for the main course, scrapes your walls and curls his finger to hit a spot you can’t reach. The nasty squelching sounds you echo from a mere finger casts heat on your cheeks, and he seems to enjoy your responsiveness as he adds another finger to the commotion. He twines a ‘come hither’ motion that makes your back arch from every delightful swipe against your velvety walls. Then his pink muscle undulates along your swollen bud, and you dissolve to a puddle. Your hips stutter, and surge after surge of torturous pleasure strikes you with no end in sight.

“Toji, f-fuck wait- hng s’feels too good” you whimper, and he gruffs a chuckle. He expands his fingers with precision, then chooses to slide a thumb in your butthole. The combination of both hands intruding your being, coiling into your soul jams your head with intoxicating dizziness and fictitious futures. Static pools in your stomach and circulates like the goading flickers of a raging inferno. He contacts your g-spot, and you moan, “Ah- can I, I’m close”

“I know, I know. Let go for me,” he says, or at least that’s what it sounds like when he’s face-deep. Your eyes are screwed shut, white noise before you crash and shatter around his fingers. Fortunately, you’re deaf to your own lewd wailing, clutching for dear life through contractions. It gushes past his wrist. Tears reside in your lashes, croaked sob from the slap he gives your puffy pussy. “That’s it, baby, there we go.”

Toji shows mercy and slips out. You’re still registering sultry bliss, untangling your limbs to lay slack. Empathy isn’t forever, though, because he forces your butt rearwards as he hops off the bed. Precum seeps from his tip, sheeting his shaft and heavy brimming sack. He propels your thighs to your chest, and your expression switches to fear for a second at the angry red tip sitting at your entrance. It's as if it grew since the blowjob, and you’re sure you’ll die if he stuffs that monster inside you.

He slides up and down the entrance, seizing the sore bud, “Mmm, pretty thing making a mess all over my cock.”

“Just go slow, okay?” you meek.

“Of course, ‘m not tryna kill you.” Toji doesn’t disrupt the yearning gaze between you, giving your entry several threatening caresses. He groans from the sensation of your puffy lips snuggling his length. Then he plunges the bulbous tip, encased in your passion. He’s unhurried for the most part, besides the instants he stops himself from ramming into you, cock begging to feel the fervor. He’s plugging you to capacity, and you’re only halfway in. Soreness whirrs in your walls being outstretched beyond belief, yet you’re milking what remains, dragging the rest of him in. His breath hitches, a spiderweb of veins pulses in your tight embrace and he rocks his hips further. “Look at the way you’re gripping me. Fuck” he shudders. His tip presses on your cervix, and you feel the weight of his balls on your rear.

Toji drives into you nice and slow. In this position you feel each vast stroke massaging your tumid core, squelching amidst your languid bodies. There’s almost a gloss film on his eyes as he indulges in the sweet addiction swamping his thoughts with unfiltered lust. “When you left it hurt real bad, y’know? I even cried.” You’re a bit stunned at his spur of honesty, but it’s short-lived as his thrusts get wilder and brutal. Your mouth hangs open, drool shameless out your mouth as he kisses your cervix without trying. You throb frenetically, chest heaving from the way his sack smacks against your ass and the creamy translucent ring forming at the base of his cock. His swinging strokes graze your g-spot and you sob, but he doesn’t check for your mitigation, encompassing your numb clit in the heat of his mean smacks.

“Heh, dunno if you remember, but you left a pair of panties when you moved”, Toji regresses to the tip and bottoms out repeatedly, “I’ve jerked off in them so many times, imagining you backing up this juicy pussy on my dick.” You’re hysterical, flushed from head to toe and struggling to take breaths. Toji has you locked slamming into your cervix. It coaxes a mix of pleasure and pain burning through you, and your toes curl. “You love me?” he asks. It’s unfair to ask you now, scatter-brained and drooling like a stupefied slut. But you nod, and he plasters a cocky grin. “Good. ‘S long as I have that, I’m okay.”

The unexpected flood of your orgasm quakes you, unable to warn Toji, or even ask for permission. How disappointed he’d be in you, as your juices sluice and soak, fluttering where you come undone. It’s a trail of fire, and it hurts to come. His hips sputter and he mutters a string of curses, flicking your nub faster to heighten the intensity of the earlier mess. You paw at his chest, back arched and fresh tears clustering in the haze. “Please, please!” you babble to an unresponsive Toji, stuck in a feral trance.

Toji pulls out, palpitating at the precipice of his own climax. You take this opportunity to flip on your stomach and creep to a farther part of the bed. He’s in no rush. You can’t go far like that, a net of arousal at the apex of your thighs. He climbs onto the bed and grapples your hips, thighs capturing yours. He curves your back and slips into your gummy walls anew. You grip him like a vice notwithstanding the complaints. You hate to say it, but Toji’s length bullying its way to your cervix is a poison you’d drink habitually. He snares your hair and holds the underside of your chin. “Hah- c’mon baby, you can take a little more”, he groans at a savage pace, “be a good girl.” Your ass ripples against the brawny man, hoarse voice in your ear, scrotum pummeling the overworked bundle of nerves. Your knuckles turn white on the sheets. All you should do is let him use you, that’s all you need to do, right?

Toji pans your head to the mirror, “Look how good you’re taking me, angel. You’re doing well.” His honeyed praises make you throb, attended by the bestial snap of his hips. “See that?”, he references your release slugging both legs, air heavy with sweat, “you’re such a f-fucking slut, what man could satisfy you besides me?” You sniffle and muster a pathetic babble, and he laughs. “You’re my perfect slut, though, fuck- ‘nd I’m not gonna make the same mistakes again.” There’s a tinge of regret swimming in the sea that is Toji’s confidence, and you feel it. It’s a subtle confession; please don’t go.

Then he stops. Toji lets go, and you’re impulsively manhandled in front of him while he’s behind you. He lays back, and in doing so, ferries your knees to the sides of your face and hooks his hands to the rear of your head. You’re unveiled in the reflection of the mirror, a panel that bounces back the thin sheen of sweat on your bodies, your disheveled hair and makeup, wrinkled sheets, and the sticky lacings attaching you to Toji. You want to shy from the humiliating sight. “Don’t hide your face” he coos. You glimpse a portion of his face in the mirror, a glint in his eye, “I like this view more.”

He bends his knees and pounds your chubby cunt with reckless abandon. He’s fucking your cervix, heedless grunts and panting groans as you swallow him up. Toji sputters, throbbing along your abused body and reverberating vicious staggering plap’s that could be heard on the lowest floor. You can’t breathe, let alone think, and the asphyxiation goes straight to your pussy. “O-oh fuck, heh, feel s’good. Gonna fill you up, yeah? Shit- have a mini me crawling around. Y-you'd like that, wouldn’t you, doll? Wanna carry my baby?” The headboard thuds against the wall, and in your fog, you call out for him, chanting his name like a mantra. The emotion is overwhelming, you claw at his bicep as shockwaves burst and fizzle out on your skin. “You’re dripping down my balls, sweetie, you close again?” Tougher, nastier strikes allure your orgasm, and you bleat a scream as a stream of liquid surges from you that drenches the sheets and Toji’s shaft. It’s a blinding white light, and you go limp through the violent spasms.

“Ohhh shit, that’s it baby, take everything I give you” he rasps. Toji shoulders your dead weight with ease, going silent, then plummeting you to the hilt. His balls tighten, and he manages some slushy pumps before he comes. He spurts thick, hot globs that paint and crowd your walls with greed. You milk him dry as he bucks. It overflows to trickling down his length, and his muscles quiver as he comes down from his high. His staggering pants reduce to hitching, and he relaxes your exhausted limbs.

Toji drives out and turns you around. You’re edging unconsciousness, sporadic jolts and innocent sobs carrying in your scratched throat. “I know. Breathe, baby.” He brings you flush with his chest, and you absorb his gentle puffs, the methodical beat of his heart. “You okay?” You’re unresponsive, gathering yourself in an incomplete collage of thoughts. You want to talk but it dissipates on your tongue. He rubs your back and kisses your forehead.

Then it’s muted; solely the dwindling rate at which your heart races, and the tender smooches Toji dots on your face as you cuddle. When you open your eyes, the sheets are changed, and you’re cleaned. Clearly some time has passed. You sit, and Toji comes out the bathroom, running water in the background. “How ya feelin’?”

You wince at the blunt thrum in your vulva, “Okay. How long was I out?”

“Like half an hour. Up for a bath?” You don’t have the energy to move your body. Toji scoops you bridal style and leads you to the bathroom. You found it amusing how considerate he was after wrecking your brain.

Toji spoons a generous quantity of Epson salt into the corner jet tub. He helps you in and joins once you’re stable. It’s a lavish proportion, but you decide to be next to him. Your head situates on your forearms over the tub rim while Toji sloshes water onto your back. The steam and serene jets below ship you to a luxury vacation on a tropical island, its quality comparable to spas with extensive dollar signs. You study each other.

“I’ll let you get whatever you need from your place.” You knit your brows, “For what?”

“You live with me.” You simper at his audacity.

“So, you’re the decision maker now?”

“For this, yes. Can’t risk you runnin’ off again.”

“It’s your fault I left.” He pauses, brushing your cheek with his thumb. “I know. I’m sorry.”

A piece of you becomes whole at his acknowledgement. There are no petty jabs to be had where lingering truths wade in the mist. “Never thought I’d hear an apology from you.”

“It’s overdue. I was a dick, and I should’ve never treated you like that. Was tryna sort out my shit, but I didn’t have to take it out on ya.”

The corner of your mouth quirks up. “Sorry...but not sorry enough to let me go?”

“No. You need nobody but me.”

You chortle, and he cracks a smirk. “Arrogant asshole.”

“I love you, too.”

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #toji fushigro x reader #jjk

2K notes · View notes

ineffableigh · 5 months

Text

Wait what the hell is Aziraphale mouthing here. Lip-readers sound off!!

This is RIGHT before "The Metatron! I don't think he's as bad a fellow - well I think I might have misjudged him."

His line was: "I, um... [mouthing something]" THEN the above line.

This can't be nothing. Can it? "We need to get out"??? Not sure. EDIT: I agree with @maximumpenguinpuppy here, I think he's saying

"WE NEED HELP."

Further deep dive on the most painful conversation I've ever seen:

Azi makes the most INTENSE EYE CONTACT I'VE EVER SEEN during "I think I might have misjudged him."

"PLEASE HEAR WHAT I AM SAYING TO YOU RIGHT NOW."

After a few intercuts with the flashbacks we get to the really painful bit.

"He said that I could appoint you... to be an angel." His voice is so strained and high pitched even for him, here.

"Like the old times, only even NICER!"

The super nice old times where you couldn't be together at all, eh?

Crowley starts his confession and we get the "What the blazes is he doing?" face as he starts to realize Crowley is NOT picking up on any of this. Azi's breathing heavily here, revealing how very stressed the fuck out he is.

After this point is when things get really hard to interpret. Aziraphale sounds so genuine about "Come with me!" and "We can make a difference, I'll run it and you'll be my second in command." It feels like Crowley starting his very real confession broke through the charade of 'The Metatron knows something and we're in fucking danger'.

He blathers about Angels and Doing Good before breaking again, letting the "I need you!" slip. We get this HALF A SECOND look of the most profound sadness right before the "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."

"You idiot. We could have been us."

Azi looks like he can't believe just how badly this went. This is right before he looks away.

OH NO NOW I'VE SEEN CROWLEY'S FACE RIGHT WHEN HE STARTS TO GO OVER FOR THE KISS AH MY FEELS

Azi is not hiding his emotions well, right before the grab:

Then of course we get the I Forgive You, which sounds like his most bitter one yet. A flash of anger and resentment, frustration, immediately followed by remorse and grief.

Having seen all that, my best guess now is:

Metatron made the (barely) veiled De Facto Partnership threats, implying he knows about the body swap and, implicitly, threatening Crowley with Holy Water, at least to some extent.

Aziraphale tries his damnedest to communicate to Crowley that Something is Fucking Wrong and they Have to Go to Heaven to Fix It.

Crowley, having been primed by the various chats with Nina and then the 2v1 chat with Nina and Maggie RIGHT before this, clearly timed by the Metatron, fully misses all of this and takes it all at face value.

Crowley starts to give his confession and Aziraphale realizes what he's trying to say, tries to adjust his Heaven Pitch to hinge on staying together as a team to fix things."

"You cannot leave this bookshop." "Nothing lasts forever." Azi has chosen the worst way to make another attempt at saying he has no choice but to leave the bookshop. I don't think this is about the Second Coming, given his reaction to the info later.

Everything deteriorates from there as Aziraphale tries again to imply something is Fucking Wrong by going back to the "Angels! Doing good!" shtick, but it's too late. It's always too late.

"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." He doesn't but Azi is also communicating it very badly, likely because the Metatron is indeed watching.

Crowley thinks this is all real so he gives his No Nightingales line, etc etc. Aziraphale can tell there's no fixing this, gives up.

Crowley swoops in with The Kiss as a last ditch effort to get Azi to listen. Azi WAS listening, but cannot respond other than in anger and frustration that Crowley, in his view, refuses to listen to him again, has called him an idiot again. This happens multiple times throughout the show so there's history to fuel that assumption.

This is the precise outcome the Metatron was vying for, to split them up and emotionally/psychologically weaken them, to ensure there was no chance of a united front as there was for Armageddidn't.

My heart hurts, ow.

#aziraphale #crowley #the metatron #ineffable divorce #ineffable husbands #good omens meta

1K notes · View notes

janearts · 4 months

Note

Hey, so you got to act 3 in the Astarion romance, right? How did Roisa feel about the romance scene in the graveyard?

I did! I finished the game back in September and played out the epilogue patch more recently. Roisia was happy to bear witness to Astarion mourning his past and celebrating a future of his choosing. However, she did take umbrage at Astarion's phrasing that he would be open to having sex that evening. Knowing his history and his relationship with sex, Roisia was really looking for more clear intent, more barefaced desire. I think his wording, "I could be persuaded", would've really bothered her even though she knew he meant it cheekily (e.g., a stupid easy persuasion check, if you will).

I've included a more thorough analysis of her feelings under the cut.

Ultimately, that night poked and prodded at deeper fears and insecurities. Roisia has been left before at the end of a grand adventure wondering how she could have missed the signs that the person she adored did not quite adore her back with the same ardour. Now, older and believing herself to be wiser, she is wary and this time, she tells herself, she will keep herself in check. She will be rational, level-headed, and even-keeled. She will not let herself get swept away by irrational desire, and her love of Astarion is a very irrational, incompatible, unwise desire.

When Astarion said that he wanted her, that she stood by him through bloodlust and pain and misery, that she had been patient, caring, and trusting, that he felt safe and seen with her, and that he didn't want to lose all of that, Roisia felt a sinking unease. A queasy sort of disquiet in her gut. Because she realised that everything he described, everything about her that he praised or acknowledged or thanked, was nothing particularly special in her eyes. As a [former] Cleric of Kelemvor, as an undertaker, as a professional mourner, she has done all of the above and more with the loved ones of decedents as part of her job. It's her sacred duty to stand by people at a low and loathsome point in their lives, through their pain and misery, with patience, compassion, and an extended hand. Hell, that's just another Tuesday!

Roisia couldn't help but feel that Astarion really only loved the things that she could do for him rather than her as a person outside of those acts of service. And those things he described could have easily been done by any Mortarch worth their salt in her place. So does he truly care for her? Or is he really just thankful for the things she's done for him? Those things that really anyone could do? It does not plant a seed, exactly, but it germinates a seed that was already present in her mind, a nasty little thought that she is not special and, therefore, not truly loved in the way that she so very much wants to be loved. That, sure, Astarion cares about her, but only because she just happened to be there and has assisted people in different stages of grief since she was a child. She is fundamentally, inescapably replaceable and it's only a matter of time until Astarion realises that and does what Eustace did: clap her on the back, thank her for her time, and move on to greener pastures whatever or wherever they may be.

It was hard for Roisia to hear Astarion say things like "I want you" and "I love you" when there is a part of herself that deeply, deeply doubts that. That thinks he is wrong even if he is not yet aware that he is wrong. She is torn between taking his words at face value, the words that her heart wants to hear, or reading between the lines, which is what the parts of herself that she calls Logic and Reason call out for her to do. I think in the moment she yields to the former, but after that night, leans towards the latter.

#Baldur's Gate 3 #BG3 #BG3 Roisia #Astarion #Astarion Ancunin #BG3 Spoilers #Act III Spoilers #rosecanons #roisiacanons #tagging for the meta for myself for later asdfkjalkfd

915 notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 5 months

Note

Can I make a request of Sung Jin Woo being the reader's childhood best friend?

They are so in love with each other but reader is highly insecure and believes that he is in love with Cha Hae In?

Readers gets jealous and vent it out with Jin Woo when he asked what's wrong?

If possible, can this request be NSFW?

(You can do this any time and not rush. I really love your work and this is my very first request.)

I'm very excited that this one is getting an animated adaptation next year.

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, established relationship, insecurity, self-doubt, reassurance, comfort sex, kissing, praise, jealousy

A/N: There are so many cool webtoones and manhwa out there I'm glad a lot of them are getting the recognition they deserve.

Jingwoo agreed to meet you at your favorite café to talk about what has been bothering you for the past few months. He's seen your performance get worse and worse but he hasn't seen the cause of it. As your long time friend however he would offer you any help he can. First it comes in the form of caffeine and sweets, then in words of encouragement but none seem to get through to you. You can see that Jingwoo is worried about you but if you told him what was bothering you you're worried it might end your friendship. But not telling him could also end your friendship because you've been avoiding him a lot lately.

"Tell me what's been bothering you. It's bad enough to make you slip up and you know that's not really an option out there. If I can help you out in any way I will. That's what best friends are for right? And it's not just me, I know any one of your friends would say the same."

You don't want him to keep worrying so you need to bite the bullet and let him know about your jealousy. You don't blame Jingwoo for falling for Cha Hae at all, she's inspiring and good looking and can be by his side in fights during battles better then you can. It's not him who is at fault here and you're sorry if you ever made him think so. This is an issue purely born out you being unable to see your childhood friend and longtime crush falling in love with someone else.

"Cha Hae? I don't have a crush on her. She's an amazing ally, she's fun to spend time with but... I've got my eyes on someone else. I have since before the System made me who I am. It's you, even when I was an E-Rank Hunter you were always supporting me, and after everything that's happened you're still by my side. You have no one to be jealous over, there's no one that can ever take your place in my heart."

He rushed you both out of the café because the tension of your confessions made the air so damn thick. You didn't last a minute with your clothes on after getting to your place, and neither did Jingwoo. He was even more impatient to get you naked. His cock began to get hard on your way here, causing him to stumble up the stairs a few times. You find yourself on your back on your bed and Jingwoo taking in every detail of your body, as well as pinning your hands so you can't hide from his eager lips leaving their marks on you.

"Don't hide, do you forget we grew up together? You don't have anything to be ashamed of. Do you have any idea how many nights I spend busting a nut to you? So many tissues gone into the trashcan because my cock couldn't go down when I thought about how wonderful and sexy you are. It makes me feel better that you couldn't keep your hands still either. Now we don't have to hide. Please, can I make love to you?"

When you cried it wasn't because Jingwoo was hurting you and being too rough, you cried because the person you loved not only loved you back but he was also kissing you, thrusting his cock in and out very gently actually, much too gently for someone of his strength. Clenching around him only served to make him push his cock in deeper but not faster, he wanted this to last for as long your hole could take his cock fucking it. He wanted to make up for all those cumshots he lost in his hand.

"How long do you think you can go for? We can take a break, I don't mind cuddling with you. In fact I think it's great idea. We can talk come more until the soreness goes away. So tell me, how long did you know you were in love with me? Cause for me it was at least a few years back now. Hm? Damn, that long huh? Actual childhood then. Sorry I left you pining for so long. Promise I'll make it all up to you."

#sung jin woo x reader #sung jinwoo smut #sung jinwoo x reader #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling #sun jin woo x fem reader #solo leveling smut #solo leveling x reader smut #manhwa x reader #manhwa x you #manhwa imagine #manhwa headcanon #manhwa smut #webtoon x reader #webtoon imagine #webtoon heacanon #webtoon smut

1K notes · View notes

sopebubbles · 10 months

Text

Master List

Eight

Synopsis: in a world where alphas, betas, and omegas live along side modern humans as second class citizens, you've fallen through the cracks of a society that wants to take everything wonderful from you. Luckily a timely encounter with the boys just might save your life.

Chapter summary: Jin's form of leadership comes to bite him in the ass, and everyone will have something to say about it. Will they still follow him?

WC: 8k

Warnings: ANGST, fighting/yelling, swearing

Jimin's head snapped to attention when a knock at the door pulled him out of concentration. His coworker Nina poked her head inside.

"Jimin, there's a girl here to see you."

"I told Sana we would meet after lunch. I'm still trying to catch up on some paperwork from last week." Jimin looked bewilderedly at the stacks of papers cluttering his desk.

Nina shook her head. "It's not Sana. It's some girl named Y/N. Never seen her before. But I'll tell her to come back another time."

Jimin shot out of his chair the instant he heard your name. "No. Don't! I'll see her."

Nina paused as he opened the door to follow her. "I thought you were busy."

Jimin blushed and smiled. "This is important."

Nina gave him a playfully suspicious look before walking back to her desk. Jimin followed her and felt the tightness in his chest release when he saw you sitting in a chair, swinging your feet while you waited. Yoongi was right; you did seem like a little girl, especially the way you curled in on yourself.

"Y/N?" His voice was so quiet he wasn't sure you would hear him, but your head turned in his direction.

He'd been so thrilled by the news that you'd come that he hadn't stopped to think about why until he saw your wide eyes look at him from gaunt features. The last time he'd seen you, you were well fed, energetic, almost glowing. That might have just been the tail-end of the heat hormones, but you almost looked like a different person now. Your skin was ashen, with dark bags under your eyes. It was only a week since he saw you, but it looked like years on your face.

"Y/N," he repeated.

"Surprised to see me?" You asked as you got to your feet and approached the counter once again.

"Yes," he nodded. "But it's a good surprise." He wanted to launch into a million questions, but he hesitated. The last time he tried to really talk to you had backfired. He followed your gaze to Nina, who quickly looked away when she realized she was staring. "Come to my office so we can talk."

"I'm glad you came," he said as he closed the door behind you and gestured toward the chair in front of his desk. "Where have you been staying?"

You looked at your hands in your lap, but didn't answer. "How is Hoseok?"

Jimin tried to smile for you, but it was weak. "Hobi is fine. He's wondering where you've been. He was hoping you would stay. We all were."

"I don't think everyone was," you mumbled.

"What?"

"I know Seokjin was just trying to be polite. I would have just been in the way. It's better for everyone if you just pretend you never met me."

Jimin's heart sank. For a moment he had believed you came to him so he could take you home, but you wouldn't make things that easy. "So why did you come here?"

"You said you could help me find a job." He froze momentarily before sitting on his own chair. Was that really the only reason you had come? "I've been looking online for the last week and I just…" you looked up at him and he met your gaze expectantly. "I haven't had a lot of luck the last couple of years trying to pretend I'm Sap, but it's really hard to get a job I can manage when they know I'm omega. So, you said you knew people who would hire me…"

Jimin nodded knowingly. Unemployment was generally considered an alpha problem because many, if not most, omegas chose to stay at home, but that trend had been changing. Omegas faced a lot of stereotypes about not being able to handle physical work (which wasn't true) and for their frequent heat cycles, making employers view them as unreliable. On top of that, you were far from the only omega to not finish high school since the onset of heats made attendance difficult at best. While Jimin was all for omega empowerment, he couldn't help wishing you'd choose to just stay at home with Hoseok. But he was getting ahead of himself. Jimin clicked around on his screen for a moment before his printer began to whir.

"I have a list of businesses that hire omegas, and who give priority to people in your situation." Jimin grabbed the sheet of paper off the printer, but hesitated before handing it to you. "Would you reconsider coming back to the house?"

You sighed and shook your head. "I can't, Jimin."

"You really can. I know that maybe Jin didn't seem so keen, but Hoseok is worried. Yoongi–" he stopped himself from admitting that his alpha was a wreck, but he didn't think he imagined the glint in your eyes as the mention of his name. "He really wanted you to stay. So do I. We want you to be safe."

"It's nice of you to worry," you said, reaching for the paper. Jimin reluctantly handed over, feeling defeated. "I can take care of myself, though. I promise, I'll be fine."

When you stood up to leave, Jimin had the sinking feeling that you really wouldn't be, but there was little he could do about it. He couldn't lock you in this office until you agreed to come home with him. He sighed in resignation. "You can tell anyone on that list that I sent you and put me as a reference," he told you, picking up one of his business cards and scribbling his personal phone number on the back before he handed it to you. "And if you change your mind, you know where to find us. Our door is always open to you, Y/N."

"Thanks, Jimin," you smiled sadly.

He wanted to do something crazy, like ask you for a hug and maybe try to give you a proper scent mark so that you'd walk out of there with a bit of him, a bit of them. But he could only watch you go.

Yoongi drummed his fingers anxiously on the steering wheel as he drove to pick up Jimin from work. Normally the beta went to and from work with Namjoon or Jin, depending on their schedules, but today the pack alpha had sent a mysterious address to the group chat and told them to meet there after work. The location happened to be in the opposite direction of home from Namjoon's school, so Yoongi offered to pick Jimin up. He was more than happy to do it. He'd been feeling edgy all day with the house feeling so empty, everyone gone to work and even Hoseok mysteriously missing from the house in the afternoon, taking Taehyung with him. Your absence rang from every corner of the quiet house, mocking him.

When he pulled up outside the shelter, Jimin was chatting casually with some alpha teens in front of the building. He flashed Yoongi a crooked smile, and not the endearing kind, but the troubled kind; the kind that let the alpha know immediately that something was off with his younger mate. He cut the engine and stepped out of the car.

"Hey, Yoongi!" One of the young men on the sidewalk called as he stepped up on the curb and held out an arm for a greeting. Yoongi clasped his hand and bumped his shoulder. "Where you been? Missed you on the court."

Yoongi grimaced. Playing with the kids was one of his favorite things to do with his free days. Jimin liked to act like it was some sort of mentoring program; and maybe it was, but it was very informal. Just a few hours playing around and maybe every now and then Yoongi managed a conversation with one of them and was able to give them some advice, but it wasn't a big deal. Nonetheless, Jimin knew it meant a lot to the young alphas to have Yoongi spend some time with them and treat them like people, something that was frequently absent from their daily interactions, as you well knew. He also knew Yoongi enjoyed it beyond the game.

"Sorry, man. I promise I'll come by later this week," Yoongi told him and meant it. He turned his eyes to Jimin. "Everything okay?"

The beta nodded. "C'mon, let's go."

Yoongi opened the car door for Jimin, then nodded to the guys still standing around before he walked around to the driver's side. He started the engine and pulled into traffic before either of them spoke another word. Silent minutes stretched before them, but Yoongi couldn't take it.

"Are you afraid to kiss me in front of your clients?" Yoongi asked, half joking, although he'd usually get at least a kiss on the cheek from Jimin when he first saw him, even if it was on those afternoons he showed up at the shelter.

"Of course not, hyung," Jimin answered lightly but didn't look in his direction.

Yoongi reached out his hand to take Jimin's. "Then can you tell me what's wrong?" He asked with a kiss to the back of his hand.

Jimin's fingers tightened around him and he cleared his throat. "I saw her."

Yoongi came to an abrupt stop a couple meters short of where he meant to at the red light.

"Y/N?"

Jimin nodded. "She came to see me at the shelter."

Yoongi turned his head to look out the rear window. "Is she–? Did she–? Is she staying there?" He finally managed to ask, when he really wanted to ask why you weren't in the car with him right now going back home.

Jimin swallowed. "She's too old, hyung," he reminded his alpha and watched him sink back into his seat. "Besides, she said she wouldn't come back with me. She thinks…she thinks it's for the best, and that we were just being polite."

Yoongi leaned his head back against the rest and a thousand protests died on his lips. Jimin didn't need to hear them. "Do you know where she's staying?"

A car honked as they sat in front of a green light and Yoongi slowly pressed on the accelerator. "She wouldn't say, but that makes me think it's the same shelter as before."

"Shit," Yoongi muttered.

"I'm sorry, hyung. I should have found a way to make her stay. I should've called you. I just…it all happened so fast."

Yoongi spared him a quick glance. "Jimin, did you think I'd be mad at you?"

Jimin squirmed. "Not mad…"

Yoongi laid his hand on Jimin's smaller one again. "Jimin, of course I'm not upset with you. I know you couldn't hold her there. If she wasn't willing to come, that would only scare her, and the last thing we need is for her to be scared of the least intimidating member of our pack."

"I'm going to try not to be insulted by that, hyung."

Yoongi smiled in spite of himself. "Damn. Okay. I mean, it sucks. You know I want to find her. But this is good. We know more than we did. At least she knows where to find you if she's in trouble but—oh! Is she in trouble? Why did she come to you?"

"She's not in trouble as far as I can tell. She just remembered that I said I could help her find a job, so she came to see me. It seemed like maybe she was ready to stop pretending to not be Lykos." Jimin almost sounded proud.

"And?"

"I don't know. All I could really do was give her a list of places I knew are usually hiring and tell her she could use me as a reference."

Yoongi nodded thoughtfully. "That's good. If anyone calls you trying to hire her we might be able to find her," he said, mostly mumbling to himself.

"Hyung?"

Yoongi pulled to a stop in front of a large, yellow house. Jungkook and Namjoon pulled up right behind him in the police cruiser. They all stepped out at the same time, sharing a glance before turning their curious and confused eyes toward the property. Yoongi noticed the realtors sign in front with the bold red "SOLD" sign. His stomach flipped.

"What the hell?" He muttered in a low growl before he made for stairs up to the porch, trodding carelessly over the green lawn. Stomping up the steps, he knocked loudly on the front door.

Hoseok answered the door with a beaming, heart-shaped smile. "Welcome home!"

Jimin watched Yoongi's jaw clench, and he was certain that if it had been anyone but Hobi who answered the door, Yoongi would already be on a tirade. Jimin reached out to grab his elbow, silently telling him to stay calm but also reminding the alpha that he was there as they stepped over the threshold of the house.

"What is this, Hobi?" Yoongi barely restrained his growl, but his discontent was clear. He moved further through the entryway into what would be the living room only to let the others inside.

"This is our new home," Jin said, standing at the counter where the open concept living room and kitchen blended. Yoongi opened his mouth to speak, but Jin cut him off. "Before you start, let me show you around first. There's so much more room. There's a detached garage where Taehyung can do his painting. There are also three bedrooms upstairs. The master bedroom is absolutely massive. Wait till you see. And plenty of room for the kids," Jin rambled on, setting one foot on the first stair, ready for them all to follow him up.

"Jin," Yoongi said the syllable firmly without raising his voice.

The older man froze and looked down at him in frustration. "Can you at least look around before you get upset."

"So you understand that I'm upset?" Yoongi asked calmly.

"You're always upset about something," Jin mumbled in response.

"That's not true, Jin. And that isn't the point."

"Then what is the point, Yoongi?"

"Did you buy this house?" He asked through his tight jaw.

Yoongi's citrus went bitter, stinging their noses, and Jin swallowed but stood firm. "Yes. Hobi and I came to look at the house yesterday and made an offer. The seller was highly motivated and we signed the papers a few hours ago."

"You and Hobi? And who else was involved in this decision?" Yoongi demanded, casting his gaze momentarily at the omega.

"No one. Hobi liked the house, and I bought it."

"Oh, Hobi liked it, so that's all that matters," Yoongi threw his hands up and walked toward the back door.

"Yoongi, it's really a great house. Just take a look," Hoseok tried to persuade him.

"I don't care about the house!" Yoongi snapped.

"Don't yell at me!" Hoseok snapped back, stepping closer, but Jin came off the staircase to get between them.

"How could you two do this?"

"I know you hate change, Yoongi, but–"

"This isn't about not wanting to change!"

"Then what is it about, Yoongi?" Jin tried hard to keep his calm.

"It's about you deciding we're all going to move suddenly, like we're just pieces of furniture in your house."

"Yoongi, Jin and I have been looking for a house for months," Hoseok reminded him.

"I know. But I always assumed when you got serious about buying one you would consult us. How can you just make a huge decision like this for all of us?" Hoseok balked at the betrayal in Yoongi's eyes.

Jin's chest puffed out before he spoke. "We made the decision we thought was best for everyone."

Yoongi shook his head. "Your un-fucking-believable, Seokjin." Jin let out an exasperated sigh. "What gives you the right to treat us like this?"

Jin growled low. "I'm your pack alpha. It's my right to make the decisions I think are best for this pack. You're just upset because you wish you were pack alpha over me."

Yoongi stared him straight in the eyes as he spoke. "I don't, Jin. I don't want to be your pack alpha. I just want to be treated with a little respect." He took a step closer to where he had to look up to keep eye contact. "But if I were the leader of this pack, I'd do a hell of a lot better job than you've been doing lately."

"Yoongi," Namjoon finally stepped in, his voice a warning that Yoongi did not want to heed.

"You think this is easy?" Jin snarled back.

"It's not meant to be easy! But you see it as a set of privileges when it's meant to be a set of responsibilities!"

"I am trying to be responsible! I'm trying to build a proper home for our children!"

"Damn it! That's the problem! For your children. Because you're so ego-maniacally focused on these kids you don't even have yet that you don't give a shit about what you're doing to the pack you have right now!"

"That's not true, Yoongi," Hoseok jumped in.

Yoongi held up his hand. "Don't defend him, Hoseok. For the last year you've been catering to him instead of facing the fact that he's changed."

"I've-"

"You used to be so caring about all of us. You had such a big heart when I met you. You were so open and that's why I fell for you. You made me feel so safe. You brought Jimin into your home without a second thought. But now I don't even recognize you. You don't care, do you?"

"That's not fair, Y–"

"You don't care that Tae will have to walk outside at night to get to his studio when his nightmares keep him up? Or that this house is so far from Jungkook's station? Or that you're taking me and Jimin out of the most stable home we've ever known without even asking us? Or-"

"Yoongi," Hoseok gasped, chagrined at the alphas slipped admission.

"No. Fuck this. I'm leaving." Yoongi hung his head in defeat and shouldered past Namjoon to get to the front door.

"Hyung, wait!" Jimin called, going after him.

"Jimin–"

"Give me your keys. You're not driving angry like this," the beta reasoned. Yoongi gave them up without a fight and stormed out of the house. The door shut with a thud of finality.

Jin swallowed in the silence that followed before he spoke. "Let's go see the rest of the house." He turned toward the stairs, and Namjoon made to follow.

"Kim Seokjin." He froze at the frigid tone of Hobi's voice.

"He's just pouting, Hobi. He'll get over it," Jin said over his shoulder.

"Jin," he said more loudly this time. "He is our packmate. And he is just asking us to listen to him. Now you're going to take me home and listen."

When Jin and Hobi arrived at the house the first floor was dark except for the sliver of light underneath the closed door to the spare room, but they could hear Yoongi's angry footsteps upstairs. Hoseok rushed up the stairs ahead of his mate to find Yoongi rummaging through drawers, pulling out shirts he thought were his. It had become difficult to tell the difference between yours, mine and ours. Five years together had made their lives enmeshed in the most intimate and simple ways.

"What are you doing?" Hoseok asked softly from the door.

"Making it easier for you all to move without me," Yoongi mumbled as he closed one drawer and opened another.

Hoseok's voice trembled as his hands did. "What do you mean?"

"If it's easy to make the decision to move without even asking then it doesn't matter if I go with you, right? So I'm taking my stuff, and you can take the rest."

"Yoongi, that's not true," his omega said, stepping closer to try to stop his hands.

"Hoseok, back off."

He let out a small whimper. "We made a mistake. I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking, but I know I was wrong, okay? Please, let's sit down and talk about it calmly."

Yoongi held still, trying his best to resist acting out. He wouldn't get violent. He wouldn't get physical no matter how much he felt like exploding. Not to Hobi. "I don't feel calm right now. I need you to give me some space and let me do this."

"No!" He whined. "Don't do this! Don't leave us, please?"

"Who's leaving who, Hobi?!"

"It's not like that, Yoongi, honestly."

"Don't you think you're being a bit dramatic?" Jin said from the door.

A growl started in Yoongi's chest when his eyes fell on the alpha.

"It's just a house, Yoongi," he added.

"Maybe to you. Maybe to you it's just a place to live."

"What else is it then Yoongi?" Hoseok asked, desperate to understand what was going on in his head.

Yoongi sighed and hung his head back to stare at the ceiling. "You guys are so privileged. You don't get it. You grew up in homes that were yours, where you were born and where you belonged. Then you came here to live in your own home. You take it for granted that wherever you go to live will be your home. You don't know what I know. What Jimin and Y/N and even Tae knows! Do you get that this is the only place I've ever felt I belonged? That until I came to live here and you accepted me, that I was only ever a guest wherever I was? Do you know what living with that kind of insecurity is like? This is the only place I've ever felt safe and you've just taken that from me."

"It will be the same at the new house, Yoongi," Hoseok spoke softly. "It will be your home."

"How can I know that? When it feels like you don't want me there because if you did you would have asked about my feelings before making such a huge decision? I feel so unsafe with you both right now. So if it seems like I'm acting childish, maybe I am, but I feel so out of control right now. And if that's how I feel, how do you think she will–" Yoongi's voice died.

"Y/N?" Hoseok asked after a heavy silence.

"She's gone, Yoongi," Jin reminded him and received a black, watery glare in return.

"She's not. Jimin saw her today. She's not ready to live with us but she went to Jimin for help, so she might. Only if she comes here, we'll be gone. And what would she think except that your offer to stay meant nothing and that there is no place that's safe. You're pack alpha. You're supposed to make us safe."

Jin watched Yoongi as he ranted and felt his anger soften. The man was right, he hadn't considered those things at all. If he was being honest he hadn't cared if Yoongi or the others disagreed with their choice of home, but he hadn't even considered that they might have such a strong reaction. The new house was a better one, and he thought that would be all that mattered. When he finally responded, he spoke as softly as he could. "Yoongi, I didn't mean to make you feel that way. Honestly, I didn't know that it would matter that much, and I'm sorry. But you're safe and you belong in our new home just as much as you do here."

Yoongi scoffed. "A year ago I might have believed you."

"What do you mean?" Jin questioned and didn't miss the way Hoseok's back stiffened.

"You've been pushing us all out ever since you started trying to get Hobi pregnant," Yoongi accused.

"Not this again."

"Yes, this again! Every time Hobi goes into heat you treat the rest of us like we're less important than you. Like you're the main character and we're all just the supporting cast."

"Because he's my husband! He's my omega! This is my pack! If you hate it that much then go find Y/N and start your own! See if I care!"

"Jin!" Hoseok cried as if in pain.

"Fine! I will!"

"Yoongi, no! Both of you stop it. Don't say shit you don't mean. No one is leaving. Fuck!" Hoseok stepped close to Yoongi and cradled the alpha's face in his hands. "Please, baby. Don't leave me. I swear. We can work this out. Calm down, please." A tear dropped down Yoongi's cheek, and Hoseok wiped it away with his thumb. Yoongi wrapped his hands gently around his wrists and pulled his hands away.

"I'm sorry, Hobi. I just…" his eyes flickered to Jin. "I just need some space right now."

He took the bag he had been filling with random t-shirts that may or may not have been his and walked past Hoseok, past Jin and down the stairs. He didn't know how much they heard, but Namjoon, Tae and Jungkook all stared at him as he moved quickly through the living room toward the spare room, which Jimin had been readying for both of them to sleep in.

The others slowly made their way upstairs to see their pack alpha and omega. It wasn't particularly that they wanted to comfort Jin and Hobi, but they all knew there was nothing they could do for Yoongi at the moment, and none of them had gotten the chance to say their piece yet. They found Hoseok sitting on the edge of the bed facing the window that looked out onto the street, while Jin remained by the door, both speechless and not acknowledging the other.

"Are you here to leave us, too?" Jin asked bitterly.

"Hyung, don't get angry with us. Especially when you're the one who caused this," Jungkook spoke softly. Despite being the youngest, he had known Jin longer than anyone, except Hoseok, and he wasn't afraid to tell him the truth.

"I'm the bad guy for wanting to give my family a better home?"

"No, hyung," Namjoon answered as he sat on the corner of the mattress, facing his alpha. "But at any point did you even think to ask us what any of us thought would make a better home for all of us?"

"We've been looking for a long time and none of you have ever said anything," Jin defended.

"You and Hobi have been looking," Taehyung corrected. "You show him things you're looking at. Maybe we should've spoken up before, but we didn't know how. Honestly I've been kind of terrified of what's going to happen and then…this was kind of sudden."

Hoseok turned to see his youngest alpha with a tear-streaked face. "What are you afraid of Tae?"

He sank down onto the bed beside his omega, facing him and letting the contact of their legs sooth his fraying nerves just a bit. "I guess…I don't really know what's going to happen when you eventually have Jin's baby. I'm not sure what it's going to mean for the rest of us."

"What do you mean? It will be everyone's baby. It will only add to our pack," Jin told them, a little shocked by Taehyung's implication.

"Then why does it matter so much if the baby is yours? Why can't it be any of ours? Mine or Namjoon's or Jimin's? If nothing will change between all of us, then why has so much changed already?" Tae wondered in a shaky voice.

"We're still a pack. Nothing has changed. We'll still be a pack," Jin tried to assure him.

"With all due respect, Jin, only you, Hobi and Jungkook know what it's like to have a pack this big." Namjoon shrugged. "The rest of us don't know what happens to other partners when a couple has a baby. We've just been following your lead, and it seems like…I don't know. We get pushed to the edge?"

Hoseok choked down a whine. He didn't know why, but he'd known his husband was struggling for months with his feelings about having a child. When he couldn't get Jin to talk about it, he decided just to support him in any way he could. That had mostly meant going along with his ideas and boosting his confidence. He hadn't realized how much he had been neglecting his other pack members. Suddenly it made so much more sense that Jungkook, Yoongi and Taehyung had been spending so many nights outside his nest when he realized they didn't feel as welcome there.

Hoseok reached out to grip the back of Tae's neck and meet his eyes. "Tae, baby, your home will always be with us. And I'm so so sorry for not making that clear enough, and for not discussing it with you before we made such a big decision."

Tae smiled weakly and wrapped his arms around the omegas middle to bring him closer. It was far from making everything better, but he still appreciated being told explicitly that he was still wanted. "Things might change when you have Jin's baby," he said, not able to keep the worry from his voice even though he kept it quiet.

"Why is everyone so obsessed with the fact that it will be my baby?" Jin grumbled.

"Why are you so obsessed, hyung? You said the baby will be all of ours, so why does it have to be you?" Jungkook reiterated the question they could never get a straight answer for.

"I have a family line to uphold. I know you all don't understand that, but it's important!" Jin cried out, finally cracking under the crushing weight of that pressure.

"Is it more important than not alienating your pack? Is your family–which already has a whole group of kids to carry on its name–is it more important than the one we've spent a decade building?" Hoseok asked, looking at Jin for the first time since Yoongi had left the room.

"No. Of course not," Jin sighed.

"Since when was it ever important to you anyway?"

"Well, you are my husband. Shouldn't your first child be mine?"

"You didn't answer the question, Jin," Hoseok said sternly, crossing his arms.

"Fine! It's never been important to me. But it is important to them! And I thought maybe if I could prove to my mother that I'm a proper pack alpha then for once she wouldn't look at me like a huge failure!" The loudness of his voice got away from him even though he felt relief for finally getting that off his chest.

"I cannot believe this is about your mother!" Hoseok shouted back. "You're going to risk losing Jimin and Yoongi over your mother, who has never treated you the way that she should?"

"What do you mean lose Jimin?" Jin asked seriously.

"Look around, Jin. Where do you think he is right now? Do you honestly believe that if Yoongi goes, Jimin won't go with him?" Jungkook asked. The thought caused him a great deal of pain. Everyone relied on Jimin, more than he probably knew. But he understood, because even if Jin was being a complete ass, Jungkook knew he would stick with him, too.

"Who else wants to go with them?" Jin looked around the room. Half expecting to see every hand raised.

"No one wants to go, hyung. Not even Yoongi," Tae told him. "We just want to know it matters if we stay."

Jin rushed to sit behind Tae on the bed, covering the younger man's back with his chest. "Of course, Tae. Of course it matters. I would never want to live without any of you," he promised. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being the pack alpha you deserved and for making you think you weren't important to me. Hobi, I'm sorry for causing all this drama and putting you in the middle of it. I never meant to. I was just-"

"A spoiled brat."

Jin sighed and flopped back into the nest on his back. "Yeah. And I need Yoongi, too. To put me in my place when I'm clearly out of line and out of touch."

Jungkook crawled onto the bed to where his leader rested and pulled back his bangs to lay a kiss on his forehead. "We can all do that. But you do have to apologize to Yoongi…if you want him to come with us."

Jin looked sadly into the betas eyes. "Of course I want him to come with us. How would we manage without him?"

"What if he won't come?" Namjoon asked. "What if…I think she's more important to him than we are."

Hoseok still faced away from the group, but spoke clearly. "She's not. He just knows she needs him, more than we do. Or at least, more than we've been showing him. Jin needs a baby and Yoongi needs that omega if we're ever going to have any peace."

"Hobi–"

"Everyone get out."

"Hobi, wait–"

"You're in my nest with your work clothes on. Get up. Go get some pizzas because I don't have time to cook tonight. Get cleaned up before you think about crawling in here again."

Hoseok's boys didn't wait to be told twice before moving and getting out of his way.

Yoongi entered the spare room while Jimin was in the bathroom and flopped onto the bed. The beta had used the blankets from your brief nest to make the bed more cozy. Your sweet apple scent was fading, but he took a deep breath in while he could.

"I'm sorry, it's not a proper nest," Jimin said from the door to the bathroom. It could never be a real nest unless it was made by an omega.

Yoongi raised his hand in the air toward Jimin. "It will be great if you come down here with me."

Jimin did as he was bid and cuddled into his usual spot, draping his body half way over his hyung's. Yoongi took a deep breath of him, lavender and apples and regrets.

"I don't like hearing them fight," Yoongi said after several minutes.

"I know. But it's not your fault. It had to happen eventually," Jimin reassured him.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, hyung."

"I'm acting like I know all the right things to do, but right now I don't know. I don't–" Yoongi tried to hold a sob that was caught in his throat. "I don't want to leave, Jimin. Truly. I love it here so much. I love them. All of them. Even Jin. Even when he's being the world's biggest asshole. But he–"

Jimin stroked his hand along Yoongi's chest to calm his breathing. "It's okay, Yoongi. I trust you. Whatever decision you make, I'll be with you. If there really isn't room for you and me anymore, we'll find our own place. We'll find Y/N. We'll make a home together."

Yoongi pulled Jimin tighter to him and sobbed into his shoulder, whispering repeated apologies while Jimin tried to hush him until they fell asleep just like that.

It had killed Yoongi to leave Jimin in the middle of the night to go to work, but he'd made it through the shift with that hollow, numb feeling left in your chest after you've expelled all your other emotions. He didn't realize how many had actually been boiling in his chest and for how long until he finally got them out. He hoped that he'd make it home in time to drive Jimin to work, but when he arrived, only Jin and Hobi were in the kitchen. Their eyes met with his briefly before he ducked into the spare room and shut the door. He knew he'd have to speak to them eventually, but he wasn't ready yet. The raw anger caused by built-up hurts that he let explode yesterday was gone. He almost didn't feel angry at all anymore. But all the hurt was still there, but while he couldn't tell them how to fix it, talking to each other would only risk inflicting more harm. He showered quickly before he sank into bed and fell asleep surrounded by the scent of you.

When he woke in the afternoon he laid in bed and listened to the soft sound of Hobi's footsteps moving from room to room, already organizing to move their whole lives across town. The papers had already been signed. The decision wouldn't be changed. It was fine. Yoongi got up and changed into basketball shorts and an old extra large t-shirt (which was in fact Namjoon's), slipped on his basketball shoes and walked straight from the bedroom out the door before he could be caught out by anyone.

Yoongi kept his basketball in his car because he was always ready for a pick up game. He tended to have a relatively new one at any given time because when all the balls at the shelter inevitably wandered off, he would leave his and go straight to buy a new one or two. He picked up the ball from the floorboard of the backseat where it wouldn't roll around too much and headed into the shelter.

Nina, or anyone else who might be working, never stopped to ask him what he needed anymore as he strolled past the desk. She merely offered a pleasant 'hello, how ya been?' And let him be on his way. He went straight back to Jimin's office first.

"Come in," Jimin said quietly when Yoongi knocked on his door. The alpha could see the exhaustion on his face as soon as he walked in. "Hey," he smiled tiredly, but he was genuinely relieved to see the man.

"Hey, sweetheart. How are you?" Yoongi went around the desk to give him a hug they both needed. He nuzzled Jimin's head under his chin, making sure to give him a good scent marking like he had intended to do this morning.

"I'm alright. Just tired."

Yoongi crouched down to examine the beta's face more closely. There were dark bags under his eyes and an unfamiliar frown on the usually happy man's lips. "Did you sleep after I left last night?"

"Off and on," Jimin shrugged and continued when he saw Yoongi breathe in to speak. "And before you say sorry to me one more time, don't! You're banned from apologizing for anything."

Yoongi closed his mouth to pout for a second before he asked, "for how long?"

"Until you've done something you need to apologize for. And that doesn't include going to work or leaving me on my own for a few hours. I'm a big boy, Yoongi."

"Well…:

"Don't even start, hyung!"

Yoongi chuckled and pulled him in for a chaste kiss before he stood. Leaning against the desk, he took a look around Jimin's small office. "Anything interesting happen today?"

Jimin knew what he meant to ask, but he hadn't seen or heard from you. "Not today."

"Okay then." Yoongi did his best not to sound disappointed. "I'm going to go shoot some hoops for a while and then I'll drive you home. Make sure you tell Joon." Jimin hummed, and Yoongi turned to leave but stopped and hesitated a moment before he asked, "How was it this morning? I wanted to drive you but–"

Jimin waved his hand dismissively. "It was fine Yoon, don't worry. We didn't talk or anything, but we don't normally talk much on the way to work."

Yoongi grinned. "Neither of you are morning people."

"I'm literally amazed we make it to work every morning," Jimin agreed.

When Yoongi got to the basketball court it was empty. It was unusual, but not a total shock. It was really a lovely spring day out and if the kids wanted to soak up some of the sun's energy, that was perfectly understandable. He didn't mind playing alone for a bit until someone came in; they eventually would. He stretched before warming up a little and practicing his free throws. There was something calming about having a basketball in his hands. No matter where or when, the feel of the ball at his fingertips never changed. No matter where he moved to or who was around to play, there was always a court, always a game. If it wasn't for basketball he might not have met Jimin at the court where Jimin went to meet his friends even though he never played.

He let his mind wander as he dribbled and shot, all according to muscle memory. There was too much on his mind for it to completely go silent, but he let the thoughts run through him instead of trying to control him, and by the time someone came to break up his solo practice, Yoongi had a plan.

Earlier in the morning, Jungkook and Taehyung had gone to get moving boxes and soft packing materials. Since then, Jungkook had gone to work and Tae was responsible for getting his painting room packed and cleaned, leaving Hoseok alone in the kitchen carefully packing dishes with one eye on the front door and the other on the clock, just waiting for his packmates to come home.

When Jin comes home first, he can't help but feel a short pang of disappointment. He'd been dying to see Yoongi all day, just to be able to look at him and know he was doing better. Even though he knew that was probably too much to expect. Even though he didn't feel like he should be forgiven yet.

He couldn't believe how thoughtless they had been—how inconsiderate he had been. When Jin first took him to the house, Hoseok fell in love immediately. He could imagine them all there so easily and picture how their lives would blossom and thrive there. He even pictured you there. There were two smaller bedrooms down the hall from the master suite. One would make a charming room for the children, and the other would be a perfect room for you, at least until you got more comfortable with them. There was space for everyone and Hoseok just wanted it so badly. They moved too fast, but it all seemed to fall into place so perfectly. He had overlooked any immediate concerns in view of the future happiness they would all have, and now he felt terrible for it. Knowing he was complicit in how things played out was the only thing keeping him from being cold toward Jin. Even though he still didn't fully understand Jin's own motivations and wasn't ready to talk about it, he knew it wasn't all Jin's fault. And it wasn't only Yoongi that he needed to make amends to, although the others he felt certain he could placate with plenty of TLC and reassurance. What he didn't know now was whether Yoongi would even give him the chance. And then there was Jimin, who hadn't said a word and hid himself away. Hoseok wasn't sure quite what the beta was feeling, but he knew that when he found things too difficult to face, he tended to hide behind Yoongi and let the alpha speak for him.

Hoseok's focus snapped to the door the instant it opened again and was relieved to see his two smallest packmates enter together. Yoongi met his eyes and he couldn't help brightening up just a bit. At least they'd come home. Jimin went straight to the kitchen where Hoseok was wrapping bowls in paper and washed his hands. After he dried them, Jimin hugged his back. Hosek froze for a split second at the unexpected contact before he melted into Jimin.

"Do you want me to order dinner tonight? I've been craving Chinese all day," Jimin said, nuzzling the omegas back in a way that made him want to purr.

"That sounds great, Jiminie," he smiled and missed him the moment the beta let go. Jimin didn't go far though, only pulled out a chair and sat at the kitchen table.

Yoongi took a bowl from the stack on the table and a piece of brown paper and began to wrap it carefully, but Hoseok laid his hand over Yoongi's.

"You don't have to help," he said softly.

Yoongi paused and looked him in the eyes for a long moment. "Am I still a part of this pack?"

"Of course you are."

"And I'm still one of your alphas?"

"Always, Yoongi," Hoseok assured him.

He shrugged and began wrapping again. "Then of course I'm helping. You need me. I'm an expert mover."

"Yoongi, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to exclude you. I was thoughtless and I'm really so sorry," he rushed out, unable to go another second without at least trying to put things right.

Yoongi gave him a half smile. He bit back the knee-jerk 'it's okay' because they both knew it wasn't. "Apology accepted. I'm sorry for flipping out."

Hoseok shook his head. "It was a big deal and you reacted the only way you could."

Yoongi sank into a chair and covered his face with his hand. "I felt like a stupid teenager, yelling at my mom because I didn't know what else to do."

Hoseok frowned and reached for his hand. "I feel terrible that we triggered that for you."

"It's alright, Hobi. What you and Jin did was shitty, but I think I was brewing for a while. I should've noticed last week with how upset I got over Y/N, but I think going to her old apartment set me off. My mom and I lived in a few places like that, and those were the most chaotic times of my life."

"I'm sorry, my love," Hobi said again, stroking his hand.

Yoongi laughed and looked at Jimin, who was already looking at him. He ran a hand through his hair. "Okay, I get it now." Jimin grinned back, but Hoseok only looked confused. "No more apologies, Hobi. I've already forgiven you. It's done."

Hoseok pouted for a moment. He didn't feel like he'd said enough. "I have to say sorry to Jimin, too. I should've thought more about your feelings."

Jimin shrugged. "I know you won't let it happen again.

Hoseok nodded and continued. "I need you to know you'll always be a part of this pack. I shouldn't have been in such a rush, but you have to know that it was because I could see how happy we could all be there. I even have Y/N's room picked out already."

Yoongi's back straightened. "Y/N's room?"

"Yeah. I don't know how you would, but I just feel like you'll definitely find her, and she has to be part of our pack."

Yoongi felt the slightest twinge of possessiveness, wanting you to be only his. But his fingers tightened around the omega's. "Thanks, Hobi."

"Does that mean you'll move with us?" Jin asked softly as he entered the kitchen.

Yoongi looked at Hoseok and shook his head. "Not yet. I think I should stay here a while."

"When I saw her yesterday, I told her that if she needed anything she could come here. Yoongi and I want to stay for a while to see if she comes," Jimin explained the plan Yoongi had discussed in the car. Even though they accepted Hoseok's apology and wanted to stay with the pack, they knew they still needed some time to cool loff from the hurt their packmates had caused, and waiting for you would help, especially if you actually did show up like they hoped.

Jin nodded thoughtfully before meeting Yoongi's eyes. "That's fine. The house is already listed, but you can stay until it sells. And in the meantime I'll do anything I can to win your trust back. I hope you know how sorry I am for how I've made you feel."

Yoongi nodded but said nothing, knowing that trust could only be built with time.

A/n: i am the tiniest bit sorry about mc being basically absent this chapter. But all in good time i swear. 💜

Permanent taglist: @lilacdreams-00 @wholockian1 @babycoffeefire @theatren3rd @bri-mal @jikooksgirl19 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @marvelfamily3000 @borahae-reads @yoongiigolden @staerryminimini @valhallawhispers @m4gg13-g @i-have-no-life-charlie

@ellesalazar @rinkud @osakis-gf @scuzmunkie @queen-in-the-shadows @toughbook @zariaskz @chansbaybygirl @cryingpages @coralmusicblaze @alex--awesome--22 @singukieee @welcometomyworld13 @juju-227592 @bangtanflirt @wittyreader @nyrovieeie @welcome418 @guinhosletters @lifeistooshorttowasteyourtime @moon-cupcakes @passionandsuga @zvrjkb @m0v3m3ntsblog @kykyxstandler @writingwithmai @moocow778 @ladyalicesbookstore @yoonseokerist @deejay08 @momoasenthusiasticreader @littlestarstinyseven @bittersweetbaylee @irtiqa

2 @im-sinking-in-mud @iloverubberduckiez-blog @someshinesomedont @kungsoonie @neverthefirstchoice @kameko-ko @sehun096rainbow @fluffyspaceprincess @fluffy-canada-pancakes @armyloveot7 @katcutie @samararose21 @bangtan1325 @everglow98 @littlebaby-bunbun @thatfatbussy01@kooslilhoe @forevermoremagcon @lovelgirl22 @zae007live @mushroom-main @serious-addiction @princess-sunshyn @roguesthetic @jenniferk101 @bookingsunshine

Taglist is still acting weird. I'm sorry.

739 notes · View notes

rxmqnova · 3 months

Note

So i was thinking about Wanda x Reader where yn is the owner of a company and met Wanda when she went to have a coffee, and it was at her cafeteria, for both of them was love at first sight and for then, they were having dates.

Wanda wanted Yn to met her friends, first Nat, when they met she recognize yn for somewhere but didn't know where, in that, yn didn't tell Wanda about her job because always people tried to take advantage and even Wanda didn't do anything like that, she was a bit insecure about it.

Nat searched everything she knew and found why yn sounds so familiar so she went to her company for answers, and Yn told her the truth, that she is in love and she was planning to tell Wanda about everything and hoping she will understand why she did that.

So when Yn and Wanda had that date, it was at yn's house, and then after having dinner, she told her that secret and ask for forgiveness but Wanda understood and even if she prefered to know the truth before, she didn't care about it, always asking that she doesn't want anything expensive for gifts, she wasn't like that.

The lie

NO ONE'S POV Exactly 4 months ago Y/N made a decision to get coffee in one specific cafeteria after a really stressful day at work. And since then she hasn't had coffee anywhere else.

The girl who served her and happens to be the owner of the cafeteria, immediately fell in love with her.

Some people don't believe in love at first sight, but these two fell in love with each other right in the moment they saw each other for the first time.

Y/N kept visiting the same cafeteria over and over again, sometimes even more times a day, just so she could see the prettiest girl with the most beautiful green eyes she's ever seen.

And then it happened, Y/N finally got the courage and asked Wanda out on a date on which Wanda couldn't say no. She liked the girl ever since she saw her walk through the door of her cafeteria for the first time.

Well, they started going out quite often and now they're dating for the fourth month already.

"Baby?" Wanda looks at her girlfriend as they're snuggled up on the couch in Wanda's apartment and watching a movie.

"Hmm?" Y/N hums in response, letting her girlfriend know she's listening.

"You know… we're together for 4 months and you still haven't met my friends. I've been thinking that I could invite them over, so that you could finally meet them. Would that be okay with you?" Wanda asks, looking at her girlfriend while waiting for an answer.

"Oh, sure. Okay" Y/N nods with a smile.

She doesn't have many friends, so meeting new people sounds nice. It's just the fact that Y/N has money and lots of her so called friends just wanted to use her kindness and get money from her, so Y/N decided to better not establish any relationships. Well, but then she met Wanda.

"Great! How about Friday?" Wanda asks excitedly. She's very excited about Y/N meeting her friends as she's told them a lot about her girlfriend.

"Friday sounds good" Y/N smiles warmly, pecking Wanda's lips with a quick kiss before the two move their attention back to the movie.

———

Friday came sooner than Y/N thought and the first guest only just rang the doorbell. Y/N takes a deep breath, watching as Wanda walks away to open the door and following behind her.

"Natasha" Wanda smiles widely, pulling her friend in for a hug. "Y/N, this is my friend Natasha. Nat, this is my girlfriend Y/N" She introduces the two happily.

"Hi, nice to meet you. I've heard a lot about you" Natasha holds her hand out for a handshake, looking at the familiar face.

"Hey, nice to meet you too" Y/N smiles warmly, shaking Natasha's hand.

"I feel like I've seen you somewhere. Haven't we met in the past?" Natasha can't help but ask, thinking hard where she's seen the girl.

Y/N's eyes widen a little bit, surprised the redhead finds her familiar. She knows exactly where she saw the redhead. Natasha's sister needed Y/N's lawyer services as she got into some trouble a few years ago. Well, and Yelena once brought her older sister to their meeting.

But the truth is that Y/N wasn't completely honest when Wanda asked about her job. She told her girlfriend she works as a driver for one rich guy, even got her personal driver to change roles and pretend she works for him and drives him anywhere he wishes.

It wasn't even an intentional lie, Y/N panicked when Wanda asked her about her job, knowing all of her previous relationships were built up on the fact that she has money. She didn't want this to be the reason of Wanda staying with her… even though she knows Wanda is not like that.

"I don't think so" Y/N lies.

The three move to the living room, sitting down on the couch and talking. Soon they get joined by Wanda's other friends and luckily for Y/N, Yelena's not between them.

———

Natasha is the type of person who's capable of nearly anything to find out the truth. She knows Y/N is familiar and she just has to know why.

That's why she's searched every corner of the internet until she found why Y/N seemed so familiar. Of course Wanda told her friends what Y/N does for living… that she's a driver.

Well, and this lie is something Natasha took an interest in. So now she's on her way to Y/N's company, determined to find out the truth about why is Y/N lying. Wanda's gotten her heart broken a few times and Natasha definitely doesn't want that to happen to her friend again.

"Miss Y/L/N, you have a visitor" Y/N's assistent announces, making Y/N furrow her brows as she's not expecting anyone for the next two hours.

"Hmm. Okay? Who is it?"

"Hm. A woman named Natasha Romanoff. Do you want me to let her in?" The assistent asks on which Y/N sighs, squeezing her eyes shut and knowing her lie just got her.

"… Yeah, let her in. Thank you" Y/N sighs once again, her fingers nervously tapping on her wooden desk.

"I didn't know drivers own companies" Natasha says as soon as she steps into the office. "I don't understand, Y/N. Why are you lying to Wanda? She's been through a lot and she doesn't deserve to be lied to again"

"I- Natasha, I can explain" Y/N responds immediately.

"Well, I hope so" The redhead raises an eyebrow, waiting for the explanation and taking a seat on the couch Y/N has in her office.

"It's just… everyone who I was in relationship before Wanda was with me only because I had money. I didn't want that with Wanda, so when she asked me, I-I just panicked and made up that I was a driver" Y/N explains, hoping Natasha would believe her. "I've been planning to tell her soon, I swear. I would never want to hurt her… I really love her, Nat" She confesses, Natasha staring deeply into her eyes.

"… She loves you too. She won't shut up about you, so you better tell her as soon as possible" Natasha states, standing up and walking out, earning just a nod from the girl.

———

"Why do you look so nervous today? You haven't even eaten much. Is everything okay?" Wanda asks concerned, placing her hand on top of her girlfriend's.

Ever since the talk with Natasha this morning, Y/N's been feeling super nervous about telling Wanda the truth, worrying Wanda would break up with her when she finds out she lied to her.

"… Wanda, I need to tell you something" Y/N blurts out, taking a deep breath.

"Y-you don't want to break up, do you?"

"What? No, of course not. It's just… I-I lied to you… about my job" Y/N finally admits, receiving a confused look from her girlfriend. "I'm not a driver, Wanda… I own a lawyer company. I'm a lawyer"

"Oh… okay. Why… why didn't you tell me before?" Wanda asks, still a bit taken back from Y/N's confession.

"You know, I… I've dated a few people before and just… all those people were with me only because I have money. I know you're not like them, but I just didn't want our relationship to be like that. I'm really sorry" Y/N admits, finally looking up at Wanda and locking her eyes with her.

"… Y/N/N, I really don't care about how much money you have. I love you for who you are and not for money. And even though I'd prefer way more if you had told me the truth right when I asked you… I see why you did it" Wanda says, taking Y/N's hand in hers and interlocking fingers with her girlfriend.

"So you're not mad at me?" Y/N question, still a bit nervous. "I'm glad you told me the truth. Just promise me we won't lie to each other ever again" Wanda smiles, rubbing Y/N's knuckles with her thumb and receiving a smile back from her girlfriend.

"I promise"

~~~

Masterlist

Series masterlist

#wanda maximoff #wanda x y/n #wanda x fem!reader #wanda x you #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff fanfiction #fanfiction #natasha romanoff

195 notes · View notes

sleepsunawareof · 5 months

Text

Well like many, the Loki S2 finale has me still reeling and I have had this little drabble on my brain and had to get it out. I am not really a writer, I've not written a fic since I was a teenager probably lol so be easy on me but alas, I hope this is enjoyed by those who also just couldn't bear the thought of Loki being alone at the end of time forever.

Description: Loki uses his time slipping abilities to talk to you one last time before making the decision he knows he has to in order to save those he loves. But, you aren't so willing to let him condemn himself to an eternity alone, or yourself to a lifetime without him.

Word Count: 1367

Warnings: DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVENT SEEN LOKI S2 EP6!! Angst, sadness, happy ending mostly

••••••••••••••

"How are you doing this?", you asked as you watched strands of space and time float around you and Loki throughout A.D Doug's workshop.

"We're outside of time. Darling, I had to see you. I had to speak to you." Loki said, a sorrowful look on his face that you had never seen before. "The Loom, it was a failsafe all along. And no amount of scaling can account for infinite timelines. I thought we had it, I really did", he explained.

"Damnit, we should have known it would be...", you lamented.

"I spent centuries trying to figure it out, and it was all for nothing."

"Centuries?" you questioned.

"It's hard to explain" he responded. "Darling, there are only two options. Go back and kill Sylvie before she kills He Who Remains and allow the Sacred Timeline to continue--"

You cut him off. "You can't Loki! The Sacred Timeline is full of misery, injustice, and sadness - what the TVA stood for under He Who Remains was all wrong! We can't go back to that. And you know you could never kill Sylvie...not after everything we have all been through together."

"I know...", he said, a sad knowing in his voice and his eyes. "But there is one other way."

"And what's that?"

"Me".

"What? You? I don't understand Loki..." you said cautiously.

"The finite power of a machine can never handle the infinite timelines of a multiverse, but the infinite power of a God can", he said as he watched your face intently for any hint of reaction.

It took a moment as you stared at him, blinking. "Do you mean..." you questioned, as the realization of what he was saying started to set in.

"Yes, my love. Believe me, if there was any other way, I swear I would take it. But there isn't. I know what kind of God I need to be, for you, for all of us. It's the only way."

"Loki, if this is what you have to do, then please, take me with you at least!" you implored.

"My darling y/n, you know I can not do that. I must bear this burden alone, and you must go live your life on the timeline, the one you deserve to have. I could never condemn you to an eternity of solitude at the End of Time", he said sorrowfully.

"But you'll condemn me to a life of solitude on Earth? Loki, I can't live without you. There's no life for me down there if it's not with you! Please, as long as our friends are happy, and I'm with you, that's all I'll need. Please let me go with you!". The last part came out as a sob as your emotions got the best of you. You couldn't believe what he was talking about doing, the sacrifice he planned to make for the ones he loved.

"When I go back there, to that moment in time, you won't remember any of this. You won't know you said you wanted to go with me," he reminded you.

"Loki, every version of me across space and time would go with you. Even into the abyss, if that's where you have to go. I will follow you, I know I will!" you fully sobbed out as you threw your arms around him. The thought of him leaving you was killing you.

"They'll stop you if you try to follow me, you know that" he said, speaking of your friends back at the TVA.

"Then tell them not to Loki! Please, I'm begging. My place is beside you, always and forever, no matter where that place is."

And then Loki was gone and everything turned to spaghetti.

••••••••••••••

Loki slipped effortlessly back to just the right moment in the Loom control room, having been here in this moment over and over for centuries. This time though, it was different. This time, it was the last time. Loki looked over at you and his friends with a sad and knowing smile on his face. And then with one last look, he turned and ran down the stairs towards the blast doors. He knew he could keep you from following, lock the doors behind him with impenetrable magic. But he also knew that in your heart, you would never want to be without him. You would resent him forever if he left you on Earth alone.

You, Sylvie, and Mobius ran down the stairs after him immediately, but he was already through the airlock doors. The three of you watched Loki open the blast doors with his magic and start to step outside, absent of any protective suit. As you reached out to open the airlock door and go after him, Mobius pulled you back.

"Mobius, I have to go! I have to get to him!!!" you screamed.

"You can't! The temporal radiation will kill you if you open that door and go out there, you know that!"

"But it's going to kill HIM!" you cried out as you watched Loki walk out onto the walkway.

But something amazing started to happen. As the temporal energy shredded his TVA clothes away with every passing second, something else began to take it's place. Flowing dark green linen draped his form, traditional and humble shoes appeared on his feet, and a horned crown adorned his head. He looked absolutely Godlike and regal. As Loki walked closer to the Loom - this imperfect piece of machinery that took so much from so many - he lifted his hands, called upon his magic, and destroyed it in a flash of bright green and white light.

Then, there was darkness. Loki wasn't done, though. He reached out to grab a strand of time and suddenly it glowed back to life, his beautiful green magic allowing it to thrive. He grabbed another, and another. You, Mobius, and Sylvie stood silently in the airlock, watching as Loki brought the timelines back to life, one by one, gathering them in his hands. Above him, a chasm opened in the sky, revealing the End of Time. Loki looked back one last time at the 3 of you back in the airlock. He had no idea if you would really come after him like you said - but he wanted to see your face one last time if it was truly to be the last. Your eyes locked, and you knew now that the temporal energy was gone, there was no threat if you left the airlock.

"I have to go with him." you said to Mobius and Sylvie. "His worst fear is to be alone, and he is going to condemn himself to a lifetime of loneliness to save us all!" you said as you opened the door.

"Y/n, please! Stop! You don't know what you're giving yourself to." This time, it was Sylvie who pulled you back, holding your arm so you couldn't run down the walkway.

"Yes, I do. I'm giving myself to love. I'm giving myself to free will, to choice, to hope." you said.

"Sylvie, let her go," Loki called out. "It's going to be okay." he assured.

Sylvie let go of you hesitantly, and you started your walk out to Loki. When you reached him, he could not take your hand, but you took his arm. Together, you began to ascend the invisible stairs to the End of Time as he held the reanimated timelines in his hands. As you both crossed the threshold of the chasm to the End of Time, He Who Remains' throne and the ruins of his citadel came into view. Loki walked forward to the throne, the one he never wanted but was always destined to have. The timelines took on the beautiful form of a tree - Yggdrasil, the tree of life - the tree of the multiverse that Loki would tend to for eternity.

"This is where I'll have to stay forever, darling. I can never leave, never move. Tending to the timelines is my glorious purpose, my eternal burden. Are you truly willing to stay here with me?" he inquired.

"Yes, my love", you answered without hesitation.

"For all time?" He asked.

"Always".

#loki x reader #tva!loki x reader #loki x you #loki #marvel #mcu #god!loki x reader #drabble #loki drabble #loki imagine #loki season 2 #loki s2 rewrite #not canon #loki series #mcu loki

314 notes · View notes

mothdruid · 1 year

Text

Homemade Dynamite

pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x fem!reader

summary: You and Bradley had a history, not a positive one. After growing up together, your relationship ended in shambles. Being called back to Top Gun is forcing you to face him again.

wc: 10.3k

warnings: 18+, smut, mdni, angst, this is mainly smangst, lots of crying, best friends javy and jake, bradley and natasha best friend dynamic, penetrative sex (p in v), oral sex, vaginal fingering, use of "i love you"

a/n: i've been working on this intermittently for about two months now. i got the idea from Lorde's song Homemade Dynamite. that song just felt tragic yet happy at the same time, so here we are. also i know it seems a little quick to forgive but that's my red flag with emotionally unavailable men, so here we are. ps. i use my own call sign for everything i write now cause it's easier on my brain

Years had passed since you were last here. Top Gun. A hatred had festered inside of you ever since you were a trainee there. Memories plagued you as you drove through the surrounding town. You never thought that you would have been called back here, especially not after getting the cushiony test pilot spot. Even though it had been years everything felt unchanged, the exact same as when you left five years ago.

That unchanged feeling brought you to the Hard Deck. The Hard Deck was a Top Gun staple, every pilot knowing of the bar. You climbed out of your car and made your way into the bar. A sense of familiarity took over you as you walked in. The Hard Deck was filled to the brim with people, a healthy mix of civilians and naval aviators. A smirk gathered on your lips when you saw a familiar face.

“I can’t believe it. Howler, is that you?”

“Hey, Penny.” You gave her a curt nod.

“Haven’t seen you in a minute.” She flashed you a smile before gesturing at the bar around her. “What can I get you?”

“Got any CiderBoys?” Penny nodded as she retrieved the bottle from the fridge under the bar. Your gaze searched around the bar, seeing a few recognizable faces. The noise of Penny removing the lid from your cider pulled your attention back to her. “Anyone still floating around here?”

“You mean, is Rooster still around here?” Your stomach dropped at the mention of his call sign. Bradley Bradshaw. He was once one of your most trusted friends. The two of you grew up together, went to naval academy together, even graduated from Top Gun at the same time. But everything had changed while at Top Gun. The cool tart taste of your cider coated your mouth as you took a swig.

“That wasn’t what I meant.” You took a few more drinks.

“I know you, Howler. You’ve spent way too many nights getting too drunk in my bar, for me not to know.” You gave her a look, one she hadn’t seen in a while. It said that you had walls now, walls that weren’t coming down anytime soon. The mom in her gave you a specific look, one that was laced with concern. “I’ve seen Hangman and that’s really been it. He is actually just over there.” Penny nodded off in a direction.

Truth be told you had never completely liked Hangman, him being the reason for your embarrassing call sign. But if Hangman was all you could get right now, you weren’t gonna complain. You quickly asked for one more cider before heading off in his direction. A pleasant feeling washed over you as you saw more familiar faces the closer you got to him. It was a classic scene you walked over to, Hangman and Coyote playing darts. The both of them were in civilian clothes, just a t-shirt and jeans.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” The Texan called out as Javy threw a dart. You held your arms out, a cider bottle in the both of them. “What are you doing back here? Last I heard you were out in Maryland.” You took a drink then flashed a smile. You turned to see Javy who was shooting you a big grin.

“I was! After coming back stateside I went to do jet testing.” A surprised yet proud look covered Jake’s face. Javy came over and gave you a small cheers before the both of you took a drink. Coyote threw his arm around you and pulled you in for a hug, one you happily obliged.

“Testing? How did you get that lined up?” You looked up at him while being tucked under his arm still. Javy had always been a good friend of yours, ever since the academy. Coyote and Fanboy had always been there for you, and on occasion Hangman. You shrugged slightly as you walked over to the table that had their beers and items on. You set your spare cider and light sweatshirt down on the table.

“Not quite sure, I guess I’m just lucky.” A thud from a dart hitting the board is what you were greeted with when you turned around. Coyote gave you a goofy look and Hangman a chuckle as he placed a toothpick between his teeth. “What?”

“Sure, Howler.” Heat bubbled up to your cheeks immediately at the mocking of your call sign. Jake’s lips curved into a shit-eating grin as he watched you. Jake would never forget that night, the night he found out there was something more going on between you and Rooster. That was also the night he found out you were loud in bed, ‘howling’ all night as Bradley fucked you.

Coyote snickered while you brushed off your slight irritation, rolling your eyes. “You realize this is why some people don’t like you?” Jake walked towards you, cockiness oozing from him.

“Doesn’t matter, I got you and Coyote here with me. That’s better than anyone else.” Hangman grabbed his bottled beer, cheering it to the both of you before taking a long drink. You and Coyote exchanged glances for a moment.

“What a sight for sore eyes.” A new but familiar voice spoke up. The three of you turned to see the old cohort. Phoenix, Fanboy, and Payback were staring at the three of you. Mickey flashed you a smile as he walked towards you, gesturing for a big hug. Even though sour memories were plaguing your mind, seeing everyone again was worth it in the long run.

“How ya been?” Fanboy asked while in the embrace.

“I’ve been well! You?” You gave a nod to Natasha as she walked past the two of you.

“Good, it’s been good.” Payback came up behind Fanboy, holding his fist out. You gave him a fist bump as the three of you started talking. Phoenix was bantering with Jake and Javy while you told Mickey and Reuben about your time up in Maryland.

“Who are you?” Hangman’s voice was loud enough to pull everyone’s attention. All of you turned around to see a man sitting near you all, munching away at a cup of peanuts. His large wired frames looked oddly familiar. You stood there for a moment racking your brain as he started to talk.

“I’m Bob.” Not a sound came from any of you. “I’m a weapon systems of-”

“A WSO, right?” You asked briefly. Bob nodded as he cleaned broken peanut shells off his lap. “I think you’re on the thing I got called back for.” Bob flashed a half smile as he ate a few more peanuts. Phoenix tilted her head as she stared at Bob.

“Bob Floyd? My new WSO?” Bob smiled again.

“Call sign?” Hangman questioned.

“Bob.” Hangman knitted his eyebrows together in a questioning manner.

“That’s it?” Bob nodded with an innocent look on his face.

“Badass on board.” It slipped out of you without a thought. Bob sent a full smile in your direction as some of the others laughed. You pushed your elbow out, knocking against Mickey who quickly stopped laughing.

“Looks more like a baby on board.” Hangman quipped as he threw a dart at the board. Phoenix rolled her eyes at Hangman’s reply.

“Always got something to say, huh?” Natasha tended to have a short fuse when it came to Jake. It was an understandable short fuse since Hangman was an ass to her all through training. Hangman winked at her before throwing another dart. You moved back to your table, watching everyone as you cracked your next cider open. You flicked your gaze to the doorway, watching as the doors opened. Your light mood immediately dropped.

Bradley Bradshaw.

The glass of your beer bottle touched your lips as you started downing the cider. Hangman and Fanboy’s eyes watched you both with concern, seeing you chug your cider. They exchanged a look between the two of them before Rooster came into view of them. Hangman flipped the toothpick in his mouth, pulling it out to speak up.

“Look who decided to join us.” The rest of the gang looked up to see the tall brunette. A loud thunk came from your now empty bottle as you set it on the table. Phoenix and Payback greeted Rooster gleefully as he approached the group. A devoid sensation settled over you, waiting for the world to slow down around you. Slow motion never came though, just a panicked feeling. Your nails subconsciously dug into your palms, creating crescent shapes.

Rooster smiled as he talked with Phoenix and Payback for a moment. He looked around to see who all was there. A curiosity prodded inside of him when he saw Hangman moving swiftly to a table. Anything that distracted Hangman from shooting an insult had to be interesting. Rooster followed the direction Hangman was walking in, his gaze landing on you. His lips pressed firmly together as he watched your still being.

An annoyed feeling pooled in him as he watched Hangman get to the table. The relationship you and Jake had always seemed to put him on edge. His eyes followed Hangman’s hand, grabbing your hand as he spoke in a hushed tone. Bradley bit at the inside of his lip as he pushed his feelings deep down inside of himself.

“Do you want me to take you home?” You looked up to see Jake’s concerned look. His hand covered yours, providing you a small sense of comfort. Bradley’s gaze became noticeable, your eyes meeting from across the short way. A conflicted look sat on his face, hazel eyes boring into your own. You pulled your hand away from Jake’s, not wanting Bradley to get the wrong idea.

“No, I’m gonna head off though. I gotta unpack some stuff anyways.” Hangman nodded before gesturing towards the door. He gave you a soft pat on the back as you headed out. Your gaze stayed straight as you walked past Bradley, his gaze landing on you for a moment. Jake watched Bradley’s gaze follow you, Bradley turning around to watch you leave.

“A picture might last.” Natasha elbowed Bradley, trying to catch his attention. Bradley’s lips tilted as he brushed her arm away. Natasha and Bradley’s eyes met, Natasha giving a concerned look to him. “Bradley, you know you shouldn’t.”

“I don’t even know if she’d let me.” Bradley said while scratching at the back of his head.

“You never know, but I wouldn’t push it.” Natasha watched as Bradley’s gaze drifted again. The both of them watching the door close behind you. Bradley felt his heart drop at her words. The damage to the relationship had already been done, and possibly could never be mended. Bradley patted Natasha’s back for a moment before heading towards the door. “Roo-” Nastasha felt a hand on her shoulder, stopping her from getting Bradley’s attention. She turned to be greeted by a slightly annoyed Jake.

The fresh air outside had never felt so refreshing. The temperature had started to drop, which helped your emotions calm down. The devoid feeling started to escape you as you made your way to your car. Your breath felt a little shaky once you approached your car. You paused for a moment, trying to recollect your thoughts and emotions. The gravel of the parking lot crunched behind you, signaling someone was near you. You rolled your eyes before turning around only to be surprised.

“Hey.” Bradley’s face looked forlorn with his husky voice. Your heartbeat picked up, adrenaline pumping through your system. Anxiety started to set in as the two of you stared at each other. Your hand drifted into your pocket, grabbing your keys out of it.

“Hey.” The single word was shaky as it left your lips. A small smile tugged at one side of Bradley's lips. You leaned back against your car, looking up at him. Bradley looked down at you with a look of fondness, thinking about all the good times you used to spend together.

The orange hue of the sunset casted over Bradley’s body while you stared at him. Fond memories flooded your brain for a moment. The one time the two of you snuck out and walked on the beach, talking about your plans after Top Gun. Quickly your brain switched gears, flipping to the memory of him leaving you alone and sobbing in the break room.

“I heard you were out in Maryland.” Bradley caught on the change in your stare, making him step next to you. He made sure to put a small amount of space between the two of you before leaning against your car.

“I heard you were in Europe.” Bradley nodded at your words. You kept your gaze low, staring at the gravel near your feet.

“I was.” An awkward silence was starting to settle. Bradley looked over at you, seeing your low gaze. He awkwardly nodded to himself. “What are you doing back?”

“I got called back. Apparently they needed the best of the best.” Bradley snickered, thinking back about how skilled of an aviator you are. “You were called back too, weren’t you?”

The question didn’t take him by surprise, but he wasn’t expecting you to ask. You brought your gaze up and looked at him. His hazel eyes were filled with that warmth you had missed. You tried keeping your face as blank as possible, but couldn’t help when you bit your lip. Bradley’s expression dropped a little, making your own drop. Bradley gave you a small nod, “They need the best of the best.”

A small smile appeared on your face when you looked away from him. Bradley smiled when he heard a small chuckle come from you. “This is gonna suck.” Bradley nodded again. “Don’t make it suck anymore than it already will.” Bradley gave you a questioning look. “Don’t act like you don’t know.” A small anger had started to boil in you, his facial expression adding more fuel to the fire.

“That was four, almost five years ago.” Bradley pushed off your car and turned to face you. Irritation settled on both of your facial features. His nostrils flared for a moment as the both of you stared at each other. You crossed your arms across your chest while staring at him.

“Bradley.”

“I know. I fucked up.” His words were harsh, not to you but to himself. Your anxiety had changed and turned into annoyance. “What more do you want me to say? How do you want me to fix-”

“Not everything can be fixed, Bradley. You haven’t tried to fix anything for almost five years, why try now.” Your words were bitter. That was the main question floating in your mind. Five years. Five years of silence. What was so special now?

Bradley sat in silence, not knowing what to say. A pain twinged in his chest as he watched you become a little more heated. “Now I have to go. Go inside, have a nice cold beer, play some darts, and just enjoy it.” The click of your car unlocking ended your sentence. Bradley watched silently with an irritated look as he watched you get in your car. You backed out of your parking spot, watching as Bradley stood there to watch you leave.

The car ride home was painful, tears pricking at your eyes every now and then. The silence in your car was painfully loud as tears slowly started to stream down your face. A loud slam of your car door felt like the only appropriate thing once you got to your house. You dragged your hands over your face, this was gonna be a long few weeks.

Five weeks. Three for the mission and two to find a new assignment. It seemed like a reasonable enough time frame. It wasn't too long or too short. But it was too much time around Bradley. Even though you two didn't fly in the same jet, he still managed to get under your skin.

“Go get ready. I’ll see you all in the sky.” The sound of everyone’s chairs filled the hanger after Maverick’s dismissal. Jake caught your gaze, flipping the toothpick between his teeth.

“Rooster and Howler, hang back for a moment.” Your eyes flicked up to meet Mavericks, shifting in your seat under his stare. Bradley adjusted in his own seat, correcting his posture a little bit. The shuffling of your teammates was the only noise between the three of you. After everyone left the hanger the both of you stood up, hands tucked behind your back. A stoic look dawned on both of your faces.

Maverick smiled, seeing two kids he practically helped raise standing in front of him. It hadn’t all been easy flights and sunshine though. He wasn’t present for either of your Top Gun training, but he had heard about what happened. Maverick raised his hand and dismissed your formal stances. “It’s good to see the both of you.”

A curt nod was all you could give. Rooster gave a small smile with his own nod. Maverick motioned for the both of you to come forward, closer to him as he talked. “Now I know you two are both professionals,” you and Bradley stood almost shoulder to shoulder as he spoke, “but I have to give a warning.” Your gaze wanted to look at Bradley, needing to know if he was wearing a similar expression to yours. Your gaze stayed forward though, watching Mav’s expression.

“What warning?” Bradley’s voice was laced with a hint of annoyance. You didn’t blame him, you would probably have a similar tone.

“You both know what I mean. Whatever is going on with the both of you.” Maverick’s eyes flicked between the both of you, a hidden concern plaguing him. “You have to set it aside.” Your teeth gnawed at the inside of your cheek after he spoke. You and Bradley nodded, neither of you wanting to verbally agree. Maverick nodded at the two of you again. “Good, now go get ready.”

The walk back to the locker rooms was silent, only the sounds of your boots on the floor. You slipped into the women's locker room. Callie and Natasha greeted you in the locker room, both of them ready to go.

“What was that about?” Callie asked. You knew that Natasha wouldn’t want to speak about it. Nat was good friends with Bradley, but she tried not to push and pry at the relationship you two shared. Natasha had been there when the initial discovery of the relationship was made.

“Nothing, Mav just making sure we are good.” The both of them nodded. You quickly grabbed your items and finished suiting up. The three of you knocked helmets before you left the locker room, a small ritual the three of you always did.

Most of the others were down the hallway, heading out to the tarmac. Bradley leaned against the wall, helmet hanging from his hand. He turned his head to see the three of you coming out of the room. Callie and Natasha gave him small waves as they passed him. Natasha briefly looked back, shooting you a concerned look. A small wave was what you gave her to fully dismiss her. You stopped only a few steps in front of Bradley. The both of you waited until you heard the door close finally.

“Hmm?” You made a small questioning noise at Bradley. Bradley’s eyes were locked on you, even though you were looking straight ahead.

“You good?” The question made your eyebrows knit together. You turned to look at him, his expression was still bordering stoic.

“Yeah, I’m good. You?” Bradley shrugged and raised his eyebrows briefly with his shrug.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” After pushing up off the wall he stood next to you, his helmet close to your own. An annoyed smile pulled at the corners of your lips. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. Bradley had always been like this, acting as if what happened never did. Bradley knocked his bright red helmet with your pearl blue helmet. “See you up there.”

It had to have been the universe. Why else would you and Bradley end up in the sky together? The two of you had barely been in the sky for five minutes before he spoke over the radio. “You good?”

You looked out your cockpit at him, squinting your eyes at him. Why the fuck does he keep saying that? It was like he was teasing you, knowing that you haven’t been the same since you two split.

“It’s not like you care.” It was Bradley’s turn to squint at you.

“And who told you that?” An irritation started to boil in your stomach. He had always been like this, acting oblivious to the pain he caused you.

“Didn’t need to be told, you showed me that. Or did you forget that?” There was a harshness in your voice that Bradley didn’t like.

“What does that mean?”

“Don’t play stupid.” You looked at your radar, looking to see if Maverick had popped up. It was still clear which made you think he was below or behind you two.

“Look, I know that what I did was shit.” Bradley started to plead with you in a sense. “I’m sorry.”

“Rooster, I’ve heard it before. I don’t want to hear it-”

“You’ve never heard it. Always shoot me down first.” The boiling irritation turned into shock. Bradley had never spoken to you like that, or at least never with that tone. You looked back at him, nostrils flaring.

Maverick came in over the radio, “Cut it out the two of you.”

“The fuck did you say?” Bradley shot a wave out his window, knowing damn well he was pissing you off. Bradley shot up a peace sign before diving down. You dove down behind him, the two of you falling into a rolling scissor maneuver.

Back in the ready room everyone listened to you, Bradley, and Maverick over the coms. Bob was listening intently, not sure why the two of you tended to argue so much. Bob had a slight idea but wanted to confirm the exact reason. Bob elbowed Natasha softly, gaining her full attention. “Can I ask a question?” Natasha nodded while hearing you call Rooster a cock over the coms. “Why are they like that?”

“Oh.. They have a bit of a history.” Natasha gave him an awkward smile. Natasha hated it. She loved the both of you dearly, but god did she hate how you two acted. She tried her best not to take sides. Natasha had been very vocal to the both of you when your previous relationship had been found out.

“Is that what you call it?” Bob and Natasha looked over to be greeted by Javy and Jake. Jake’s lips were curled into his devilish smirk.

“Yeah, it is.” Natasha said. Bob watched as Jake walked closer to them. Jake’s eyes were locked with Natasha’s, making her protectiveness of Rooster come out. “You don’t need to air it out, Bagman.”

Jake tilted his head slightly, his eyes flicked from Natasha’s to Bob’s. Bob averted his eyes, not wanting to fully meet Hangman’s intense gaze. “There you go Phoenix, being a good wingman for no reason. We all know what he did was wrong.” Jake kept his gaze on Bob, even though his words were directed to Natasha.

“Bradley isn’t a bad person.”

“Nobody said he was.” Coyote replied. Coyote and Hangman had both been there on that fateful night. The night that Bradley had left you broken and alone. Jake had held you close to him while Javy comforted you. Your sobs were something that they could never fully expunge from their brains. But while they were comforting you Phoenix was with Bradley, listening to his drunken ramblings. The ramblings consisted of him regretting ever ending the relationship to how he was a terrible person who didn’t deserve you.

“What exactly happened?” Bob piped up, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Sorry, it’s just everyone seems to know. I feel a little out of the loop.” A loud shout from Bradley came over the coms.

“Rooster and Howler were childhood friends, both military kids. Came to the academy and everything together.” Bob’s eyebrows knitted together in a questioning way as he listened to Javy.

“Why then are they like this?” Bob gestured to the coms, Maverick calling out and telling you two to head back to ground.

“They started fucking, giving Howler her call sign, then Rooster broke it off abruptly.” Bob’s eyes widened when he heard the bit about your call sign, making his mind wander slightly. A part of him thanked himself for having a generic call sign.

“And she’s been bitter about it since.” Phoenix spoke up.

“But Bradley left her alone, ghosting her afterwards. So, I’d say her bitterness might be a bit warranted.” Jake chimed in. Bob nodded, knowing a bit more about you and Bradley now. Fanboy then spoke up.

“Can’t you guys just stop bringing it up?” Everyone looked at him. A pensive expression was what Mickey wore, wanting to get his point across. “We were all affected by what happened. Howler was hurt and Rooster was never the same. So just stop.” Payback nodded at Fanboy’s words. Hangman let out a chuckle as he backed off of Phoenix and Bob.

“What the fuck Bradley!” You grabbed his inflation device, shoving him back. An angry but flabbergasted look was on his face after you shoved him. Everything in you wanted to throw your helmet at him. The others rushed out of the building, running to separate the two of you.

“What did I do wrong this time?” Bradley yelled at you, frustration settling on his features. His chest heaved as he looked at you, walking towards you. The two of you came face to face, only a few inches separating your face. Bradley’s eyes scanned your face, eventually landing on your lips. It took you by surprise the way he was looking at you. Your eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips, making you question your anger for a minute.

Maverick ran over, pushing the two of you apart as everyone finally arrived. Hangman and Coyote pulled you back, their words went in one ear and out the other though. Bradley was pushed back by Phoenix and Fanboy, his eyes not leaving you. A part of Bradley wondered what would have happened if nobody had shown up.

It was a flurry of words thrown about but none of it mattered. Your brain tuned it all out, trying to find some form of calm. Hangman and Coyote started to usher you towards the hanger, taking you into the ready room. Your breath was heavy when they got you in the ready room. Hangman came around to face you, his hands resting on your shoulders. “Hey.”

You tried to focus on his face, not paying attention to whatever Coyote was doing. “He…”

“No, Howler.” Jake brought both his hands to your face, centering your face with his. “Focus on me.” Your eyes locked with Jake’s, focusing on the green irises staring back at you. You nodded to Hangman, showing him that you finally were focused on him. As you stared at Jake tears started to prick at your eyes, your anger turning into sadness. Hot tears started to stream down your face. A sob racked through you as you started to cry. Jake pulled you into a hug, holding you close as you left a wet spot on his green jumpsuit.

Jake shot a look over to Javy, a knowing look. Jake stroked your hair, trying to make sure you were as comfortable as possible. “I hate him..”

“I know, it’ll be okay.” Jake’s words were soft and comforting.

“...But I still love him.”

“Roo..Bradley..” Your voice was barely a whisper, his lips traveling along your neck. His hips were slotted against your own, a small rocking rhythm being made. Bradley’s breath was hot on your skin, hands traveling up your sides to your breasts. He pulled his head back from your neck, looking down at you.

“So fucking pretty for me.”

You had never shot out of bed so fast. The clips from your dream kept repeating, making you rub your eyes aggressively. You sat there staring into your lap for a moment, wondering what the fuck that dream was. That’s when you remembered what happened last night. Your suspicions were confirmed when you looked over the edge of your bed, a sleeping Jake Seresin on your floor.

Tequila never mixed well in your system.

After you climbed out of bed, avoiding waking Jake up, you stopped at the bathroom then went to the living room. Javy was already awake, phone propped up on his chest while he scrolled. A small hand raise was all you gave him, receiving a similar one back from him.

“Jake asleep?” You nodded your head as you picked out a Keurig pod, placing it in the Keurig and waiting for the water to heat. Javy stared at you with a curious gaze, one eyebrow cocked. “You good?” No, you weren’t good. If he remembered anything from last night, he knew you were far from good. A shrug was all you offered him with a pathetic smile. “You don’t have to hide around me. Plus, Jake ain’t here right now.”

“I know, Jav. It’s just,” a stupid smile spread on your lips before you spoke again, “I had a dream about him.” Javy sat up on the couch while he gave you that look you hated. It was that stupid knowing look, the one he liked to give you back in the day. “Go on, say it.” Javy threw his hands up in a defensive manner.

“Hey, it could have been the tequila shots Jake had us taking.” Javy chuckled when he saw you give him that “yeah, bullshit” look. The sound of your Keurig pushing out your coffee filled the silence, your gaze drifting away from his. “You said you still love him.” You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. You hated that Rooster still had this effect on you somehow.

The emotional damage had never fully subsided. How could it have? The two of you had grown up together. This was never supposed to be the outcome. Hell, fucking was never even apart of the plan. But you couldn’t help it, your emotions getting the better of you on one fateful day. But it wasn’t just you, he had reciprocated it. Kissing you back just as passionately as you kissed him. But the more confusing parts were when the two of you would stay up late, laying in bed while talking for hours. Or the late night beach walks so no one would find out, even though everyone already knew. It didn’t last though, falling apart in an instant.

“I know I did.” Javy threw the blanket off his lap, standing up and moving to the bar of your kitchen island. He gestured towards the Keurig, you picking up his silent asking for a cup of coffee. You just gave him yours that finished, popping in another pod after.

“You gotta face him, eventually.” You fetched the creamer from your fridge, offering it up to Javy. “I’m not trying to be pushy or anything, it’s just that..”

“He acts like we are just supposed to move past it.” You wrapped your hand around the back of your neck, sighing as your coffee finished. “As if he didn’t emotionally wreck me.” Javy poured a small amount of creamer in his coffee, grabbing a stir stick from the basket of goodies on your island. He pointed it at you intensely with the small wooden stick.

“Does he know that?” A slightly annoyed look pulled over your face.

“Really?” You snatched the creamer from in front of him. Javy took a drink from his cup, hiding a snicker. “Javy, you know damn well th-”

“Men aren’t always that smart.” You squinted at him, bringing your own cup up to your lips. You hated when Javy was right. You appreciated it but god did it annoy you. At least it was better than Jake being right.

“Except you, right?” A big smile spread across his face.

“Except me.”

The two of you hadn’t spoken since the incident. Maverick doing you both the favor of separating two from flying together, seeming as the two of you had been hazards the last time. The entire atmosphere of the group had changed too, almost like a divide had formed. You didn’t really mind, counting down each day until you could leave anyways.

You stared out at the water, toes digging deeper into the sand. As much as Jake insisted he should come with you to the beach, you told him no. You knew he just wanted to make sure you were okay, distract you from your own thoughts. But you needed your own time. Time alone to sort out your thoughts. The sun had already started lowering, an orange hue casting over your skin and the sand around you.

This was one of the few things you actually missed about Top Gun. The beach was unmatched, no other collection of sediments brought you this type of comfort. The sound of water softly beating at the sand, wetting it over and over.

Did Bradley know? Did he know how he hurt you? Broke your heart? Damaged your ability to love? But yet still had you wrapped around his finger?

Your conversation with Javy kept replying in your head, along with the memory of that terrible night years ago. The memory was so clear yet fuzzy, something you had tried not to think about for years. The forlorn look on Bradley's face compared to your distraught one. The tears ran down your cheeks as he told you 'We can't do this anymore.' As if you had agreed to end things prior. He didn't even try to comfort you, no wiping away tears or anything. Just a 'sorry' and he was gone.

You pull your knees close to your chest, tucking your face into them. Tears hadn't started to form, but you knew it'd be only a matter of time. It was such a hard concept for you to understand. How could he do that? Fuck his childhood best friend then disappear? None of it made any sense. You looked back out at the water, a deeper orange hue covering everything now. You went to lay back on the sand, but collided with something. Well, more like someone. You turned and looked up, a familiar face looking down at you.

"Hey." It had been days since you last heard him speak. His voice was soft and almost hesitant. You wondered how long he had been there.

"Hey." You turned back to stare at the sunset. You couldn't help wanting him to leave, but a small part of you wanted him to stay. Which is what he did. You could barely feel the sand shift behind you before you saw his legs extend out around your body. You turned to see Bradley had taken a seat behind you.

“Hmm?” Bradley hums.

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting down?” Bradley gave you a similar questioning look.

“Wh-why are you sitting behind me?” As much as you hated it, a part of you missed this closeness. You missed these small things your friendship used to contain. It was a friendship you were never able to replicate.

Bradley had just always provided a different level of comfort. Him buying your favorite candy without you asking, even the few comforting fucks you two shared. But maybe those gestures were what started to scare Bradley away. It was true that emotions were never something he could manage well. Even as a long time friend he had a hard time discussing them with you. He was much better at showing emotions through action, not talking about them.

“It just.. it felt natural. I can move.” Bradley’s legs started to retract from around you. Without a second thought you brought one hand out, touching the tanned skin of his knee and thigh. The two of you stared at each other for a moment. You missed those hazel eyes, full of so much untold truth.

“Stay.” Bradley nodded his head, settling back down behind you.

There was still a space between the two of you. Silence settled as the two of you watched the last slivers of the sun. Bradley remembered the last time you were at the beach. Glimpses of your bare skin barely visible underneath the water. The warmth of your body against his in the cold water. It hadn’t been the first time he had skinny dipped, but it was the most memorable.

There was a small nervousness in you. It felt almost as if years of irritation had melted away. Bradley thawing out your heart, reversing the frozen state he had left it in. You decided to test the waters of his comfortability, and a bit of your own. You leaned back slightly. Bradley welcomed you, letting you lay back against his chest. Your heart fluttered when he wrapped his arms around you, supporting your weight against him. Your legs stretched out into a more comfortable position. Once the sky started to shift from orange to black you both started to speak.

“I uh.. We should talk.” You looked up at Bradley, still leaning back into his chest. Bradley looked down at you, the mustache on his upper lip quivering in the slightest. He nodded, confirming that he also wanted to talk.

“Yeah, we probably should.” Bradley broke his stare, looking out towards the darkened water. You could see the small details of him chewing the inside of his lower lip. The small tug from the inside being barely visible on the outside of his lip. There was another silence between the two of you before you spoke up.

“What should we.. where should we begin?” As much as you wanted to attack him, the small angelic Javy on your shoulder told you else wise. Bradley shrugged, neither of you sure where to start the conversation.

“How was Maryland?” It was such a generic question, and you knew it was just to avoid the true topic.

“Maryland was nice. Lots of history there and that was about it.” Bradley smiled when he heard the history bit. “How was Europe?”

“It was nice.” The smile was still on his lips, but he had turned to look at you. “Nice to kind of get out of here, the US I mean. Just experiencing somewhere else.” You knew exactly what he meant. Right after you graduated from Top Gun you went to Japan, running away from all your emotions at the time. You were there for three years. Three years of shelving your anger and sadness towards the man you were currently cuddled up to on the beach.

“Italy, right?” Bradley nodded at your question.

“Wish you could have seen it.” Another silence. You sat up and looked at him.

“Bradley.”

“I know.”

“Do you? Do you really know what happened?” Bradley’s eyebrows knitted together a little bit. “Bradley, you broke me.” It felt like a weight had been lifted off your chest, finally admitting to him what happened. Bradley’s lips tightened together, his gaze shying away from yours. “You really have no idea, do you?” You stood up, turning to stare down at him.

Bradley sat there with his hands in his lap. He was staring at your feet, still not wanting to meet your gaze. You stared at him for a moment longer, your eyes starting to water as you looked at him. As much negative emotion you had towards him, you couldn’t help the warmth and love you still felt for him. That was when he looked up at you. Eyes watering just like yours, lips parted as he ran his tongue over his lower lip.

“I’m sorry.” It wasn’t like any previous apologies he had half assed to you. This was a vulnerable apology, just the two of you. The first time he didn’t mention fixing the relationship. The last time you had seen Bradley this vulnerable was after the last time you had sex. You had categorized that night as making love, not just fucking. It was the first time you had told Bradley you loved him, even though he couldn’t say it back.

You lowered to your knees, neither of you breaking eye contact. Bradley’s knees bent, bringing his legs a bit closer to himself. You were kneeled in between his legs, one of your hands going out to stroke his cheek.

“I was scared,” Bradley had finally started to say, “I was scared to lose you.” Your eyebrows knitted together, confused by his words. He had lost you though. “I didn’t want to lose you like I lost my dad.” Tears had started to fall down his cheeks. You swiped one of them away as he looked away from your gaze. “I didn’t want to lose you abruptly. I watched what that did to my mom and I was.. I didn’t want to experience that again. So, I thought if I broke off our arrangement I’d feel better. But I didn’t.”

“Bradley.” His name was barely a whisper on his lips.

“I love you.” The three little words that you had been waiting years to hear from him. The two of you had said it as friends prior, but this was the first time it meant a little more than that. Wet streaks started to form on your own cheeks, tears rolling down them.

One of your hands snaked around his neck, the other cupping his cheek. You pressed your lips to his, conveying more than what words could. Bradley’s hands moved to your jawline, one cupping your cheek while the other cradled your jawline. It wasn’t anything sexual, only emotion. Emotions that neither of you could fully express with words. When you pulled back Bradley tried capturing your lips again, you placed a hand on his chest to stop him. You placed your forehead against his, a hand on the back of his neck and the other still on his chest.

“I’m sorry.” Bradley whispered. You smiled softly at his words.

“Don’t be.” You pulled back and looked at him again. His hazel eyes looked different now, studying your every feature.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

The next twenty minutes were a blur, moving a bit too fast for either of you to fully register. You and Bradley drove back to your house, him tailing you in his old Bronco. The two of you quickly made your way into your house, Bradley kissing at your neck as you tried to unlock your door. After your nerves allowed you to unlock the door the both of you were tumbling into the foyer. Bradley’s hands were on your hips as he kicked the door shut, pulling your ass back against his hips.

“Bradley.”

“What?” His mustache tickled your skin as he mouthed your neck. “Been thinking about this for years.”

“You could have had it the whole time.” You quipped to him. You were testing the waters, seeing how far you could push him. His hands tightened on your hips, flipping you around and backing you into the wall.

“Yeah, don’t remind me.” Bradley pressed his thigh in between your legs, rocking his hips with yours. His hands guided your hips while resting his forehead on yours. His hot breath mingled with yours, making everything seem a few degrees warmer. His mouth smashed into yours, a messy kiss ensuing. His lips were wet on yours, tongues battling for dominance inside of your mouth. Bradley’s hands snaked around to your ass, grabbing and pulling you somehow closer.

“Bradley.” His lips trailed down your jawline, connecting with your shoulder. He rested his forehead on your neck, taking deep inhales of your scent while rutting into your hips. His cock was already hard in his shorts, digging into your hip as the two of you rutted. Everything Bradley did was rushed and needy, as if it would be the last time he would have you like this. He pulled back to look at you.

“You look so beautiful like this.” A heat boiled into your cheeks, a part of you somehow forgetting how Bradley used to praise you in bed. The way he used to praise you through your orgasm, telling you how tight you were squeezing him. Your core clenched around nothing at his words, rutting your hips into his. Even though it had been years, you felt that familiar squeeze on your ass that Bradley used to get you to jump.

Bradley caught you when you jumped, pressing your back against the wall and adjusting your legs to wrap around his waist. The way his hard on was pressing against your still clothed core made you wish you were bare underneath him. Bradley groaned as he kept rutting into you, dipping his head into the crook of your neck. His mustache tickled the skin lightly as he mouthed from your jaw to shoulder.

One hand moved from cradling your ass to your shoulder, pulling the collar of the old t-shirt you wore down and to the side. His tongue traced the same exposed section of your collar bone. Your fingers threaded through his hair while your other arm snaked up around the back of his neck. You hadn't even noticed that Bradley started to move the both of you.

Both hands were planted in your ass as he walked over to the couch. The plush couch hit your back as Bradley laid you down. His hands quickly grabbed at the hem of your shirt, pushing it to feel at the newly exposed skin. The skin that was so familiar yet distant to him. The familiar ghosting of his hands over your midsection, sliding up to cup your breasts over your thin bralette.

"Fuck, I missed you so much." Bradley's heavy breaths we're hard on your skin, making goosebumps blossom all over you. His hips were still rutting against yours, practically pinning you to the couch.

"You have no idea Bradley. All the nights I thought about, fucking myself to what we used to have." Bradley stilled, panic quickly flooding your system. But then he kissed you. It was different from the make out session prior. It was more akin to what you shared on the beach.

"I missed you, not just fucking you." Bradley said when he pulled back. The look in his eyes was sincere and full of emotion. "You've always been more," a trail of kisses started down your neck, "than just a fuck to me." His hands pulled your shirt up, helping remove it and your bralette so you could receive more attention.

"Bradley," you cupped his face and pulled it to face yours, "I know. Even though you never said it, I always knew deep down." Bradley leaned forward and kissed you, that spark of passion reappearing.

"Good, cause I'm about to show you again and again and again." Bradley's lips trailed down your neck, one arm propping himself above you while the other ghosted down to your chest. He kneaded your breast, thumb rubbing and flicking your nipple. "Gonna show you til you beg me to stop."

"Don't know if that'll happen." Your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging lightly. A small groan left his throat, a smirk pulling at his lips. "We've got a lot of catching up to do."

You smashed Bradley’s lips to yours, passion flowing between the two of you. The hand on your breast continued to knead the mound. The hand that was propping him up, moved closer to your head, fingers grabbing onto your hair and tugging you back away from him. The tickling trail of his mustache leads down your jaw and neck. He left a few nips on the way down, stopping to suck on the sensitive spot along your collarbone.

The soft tickling sensation continued down your skin, his lips wrapping around your left nipple. His tongue swirled around the hardening bud, flicking it every now and then. Soft moans fell from your lips, urging Bradley on. He wanted them louder, needed to hear how much you missed him. His hand left your hair, coming down to rub your cunt over your shorts. His other hand ghosted down your side, grabbing your hips as you started to roll them into his hand.

“Sound so fucking good for me.” Bradley groaned as he pulled back, watching your body react to his every touch. Your hands moved out to pull at his own shirt.

“Off. Now.” Bradley smirked, his hands leaving your body to tug his shirt off. It was as if he hadn’t changed in years, still toned and tanned. An acute nostalgia washed over you, yearning to become familiar with his body once more. The feeling was quickly replaced with excitement as you reminded yourself of what you were doing.

Bradley let out a groan when your fingers graced his skin. You sat up to meet him, hands roaming all over his chest. A smile stayed on Bradley as he watched you admire his body. Your eyes flicked up to connect with his hazel ones. One of his hands cupped your face, thumb rubbing your cheek lightly. With your eyes locked, you leaned forward and licked at one of his nipples. Bradley jolted a little bit, not used to the sensation. Groans started to fall from his lips, hand shifting from your cheek to the base of your neck. You wrapped your lips around his nipple, tonguing the bud just as he did to yours.

The air filled with soft groans and moans from the both of you. The hand at the base of your neck grabbed your hair, pulling you off his chest. Bradley kissed you once more, hot and passionate open mouth kisses. He guided you back down, laying you on the couch once more. Your fingers threaded through the soft brown locks, tugging as his kisses continued. A moan was ripped from you suddenly, Bradley’s hand now pressing against your core again.

He pulled back from you, staring at your almost breathless form. You felt the waistband of your shorts loosen, looking down to see Bradley had flicked open the button. He pressed his forehead to yours, “This okay?”

“More than okay.” You placed a kiss on his cheek. Bradley slipped his hand underneath your panties, fingers diving between your folds. Bradley listened to your moans as he rubbed circles on your clit. You let your legs fall further apart, the fabric of your shorts and panties keeping his fingers close on you. Bradley mouthed at your neck, moans filling the air as you let him have his way with you.

Bradley was nuzzled into the crook of your neck, fingers still building that sweet mountain of pleasure inside of you. An endless mantra of his name fell from your lips, fueling him further and further. The wetness coating his fingers was driving him mad. “I gotta taste you. You’ve always tasted so good.” A heat crept up your cheeks when you heard his words. A moan and nod was all you gave him, signaling you wanted him to taste you too.

You barely had time to register Bradley’s hand leaving your panties, tugging your shorts and panties down quickly. Your legs fell open, waiting for him to take his place between them. His hand gripped the inside of your thighs as he settled. He dragged his lips along the inside of your right thigh, the prickle of his mustache tickling your thighs. He breathed out a hot breath on your cunt. He snaked an arm around your thigh, fingers spreading your folds as he started to lick and suck on your clit.

“Oh fuck, Bradley!” Bradley’s locks were soft in your fingers, tugging lightly as he started to shake his head back and forth. His tongue flicked on your clit, sending small shocks of pleasure through your body. A tightness had started to form in your lower abdomen from Bradley’s actions. The hand gripping the inside of your thigh disappeared, reappearing when his fingers prodded at your entrance.

One long finger slipped inside of you, finding that soft spongy spot quickly. It was as if Bradley had never forgotten. The map he had of your body years ago, still fresh and untattered in his mind. Another finger was added inside of you, both fingers fucking into you. The combination of his fingers and his mouth was starting to become overwhelming.

“Mmm, there you go baby. Feels good, doesn’t it?” Bradley groaned, looking down to watch his fingers push in and out of you.

“Bradley, if you don-” His lips were back on you, tongue assaulting your clit. With a few more flicks of his tongue and thrusts of his fingers you let go. Bradley didn’t let up as your moans turned into whines. Your body had started to shake the longer you rode out your orgasm. All of your muscles were tense, your legs starting to tighten around Bradley.

“Fuck, you taste so good.” Bradley finally let up, moving up your body as you laid there in your post-orgasmic glow. “So pretty when you come for me.” Bradley kissed you again, the taste of you flooding your senses. His hands crept up your sides, rubbing and kneading the flesh.

“I need you.” You whispered, putting your forehead to his once more. “Need to feel you in me.”

Bradley let out a groan at your request. One of his hands moved to the button of his shorts, undoing them quickly. Your hands pushed at the waistband of his shorts and underwear, him helping you pull them off. Once both articles were removed you wrapped your hand around his cock, stroking lightly.

A small shudder ran through Bradley, the distant yet familiar feeling of your hand wrapped around his cock. He would never admit that he dreamed of it multiple times over the past few years, dreaming more of his cock being deep inside of you. His head lolled for a moment, basking in the feeling of your hand.

“Fuck, I need to be in you.” Bradley nuzzled into the crook of your neck once more, lips and mustache hastily working over the exposed skin. He guided his hips closer to the apex of your legs, your hand still stroking him. When he got close enough you lined him up, his cock resting at your entrance.

He guided your legs around his waist before pressing into you. He pulled back just into time to watch your face contorted in pleasure. Your mouth was agape, a strangled moan coming out of it as he bottomed out inside of you. The stretch was intoxicating, something that you had truly missed. Bradley kissed your jaw and cheek, waiting for the approval to move.

When Bradley noticed the smallest hint of a nod he pulled his hips back a little bit. His rhythm started with slow deep thrusts, moans and groans coming from the both of you. Bradley kept nuzzled against your collarbone and neck. Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, one hand was laced into his hair. You weren’t tugging or pulling this time, just cradling the back of his head and neck as he fucked into you.

Words were lost between the two of you. Rambling sentences fell from Bradley as broken ones fell from you. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Bradley whispered as he mouthed your neck. “You feel so fucking good. Always felt so good wrapped around my cock. So warm and inviting, makes it so hard to leave. God, you’re just amazing. Everything I could ask for. I love you.”

You weren’t sure if he said it on purpose or accident, but you didn’t think twice about saying it back. “I love you too, always have.” Bradley’s thrusts became more powerful, the speed casually increasing. His cock kept hitting that sensitive spot inside of you, sending waves of pleasure through your system.

Bradley’s arms snaked underneath you, one hand cradling your head while the other settled on the center of your back. It was similar to a cocoon, a cocoon of just Bradley. Bradley wasn’t sure what possessed him to need you that close to him, but he needed you. Wanted you to flood his senses more than the current situation. He wanted you to consume him, take away all of the bad that had ever happened between the two of you. Throw it out the window and start anew, which he felt was currently happening.

You tightened around his cock, moaning against his chest. Bradley groaned as he could feel you getting closer and closer to your orgasm. It had been years but he remembered all of the telltale signs. He let your head fall back a little, still cradling it as he pressed his forehead to your temple.

“Let go baby, let go all over my cock.” His words were slurred with pleasure but still had the same effect. The familiar tightness in your abdomen that had been mounting snapped. Your hands were reaching and clawing, trying to touch anything that was Bradley.

He let out his own string of groans from you tightening around him. With only a few more thrusts Bradley was coming inside of you. His name fell from your lips when you felt him fill you. Bradley kissed your jawline, his hips barely pumping in and out of you know. The two of you laid on the couch like that for a moment, Bradley on top of you with his softening cock still inside of you. He rested his head on your chest, the two of you laying in bliss. It was Bradley who broke the silence.

After a bit longer of laying there you tapped his shoulder, signaling for him to get up. The both of you went to the bathroom, cleaning up and using the bathroom. Bradley went to head back to the living room, but you grabbed his wrist.

“Let’s finish this in the bedroom.” Bradley gave a gentle smile before nodding towards the living room.

“Can I grab my underwear?”

“Of course, can you grab my t-shirt too?”

Bradley greeted you in the bedroom, tossing your shirt to you. He watched quietly with a smile as he watched you put it on, your lower half already beneath the covers. Bradley climbed into the bed, sitting next to you under the covers. You looked over at him, a light smile on your face. Bradley tilted his head, giving you a soft but embarrassed look.

“What?” You asked.

“I just, if you would have asked me a few days ago about this.” He made a gesture between the two of you. “I wouldn’t have imagined this. I’m sorry.”

“Bradley, you don-”

“Yes, I do.” That injured look from the beach had returned to his features. “I hurt you, and I’ll never forgive myself for it.” You reached out for his hand, thumb rubbing the back of his hands.

“I know you won’t, but you can’t be constantly apologizing for it.” Bradley shook his head, trying to avoid your gaze now. He felt tears prick at his eyes, lips pressed tightly together at your gesture.

“I told Nat that night. I got really really drunk and told Nat everything.” Your heart hurt, hearing Bradley slowly start to open up about everything was painful. Everything you heard on the beach you could have assumed. Growing up you knew he had some type of trauma from losing his father so young.

“I told Jake and Javy.” It was now or never to get everything out and on the table, being the type of vulnerable you should have been years ago. Even though you two were partially best friends growing up, Bradley was always keeping you at some type of arm's length.

“I could have guessed that one. They seem to be your two glorified guard dogs now.” Bradley chuckled at his own comment, earning an eye roll from you.

“They were the only ones that cared,” you noticed Bradley bite the inside of his lip, “or at least seemed to care.” Bradley nodded, put his hand over the one you were holding his hand with. “Bradley, I know you cared. It was just hard for you to show it and everything.” Bradley nodded again while fighting back tears.

“You deserved better. You deserved so much better than what I gave you.” Bradley looked at you, tears starting to create trails down your cheeks. “I should have been protecting you, but I ended up hurting you. And yeah, I had shit going on mentally but that doesn’t mean I had any right to treat you like that.”

“Bradley-” You reached out to run a thumb over his cheek, whipping away the tears.

“No, it’s no excuse.”

“Bradley, will you let me talk!” You raised your voice slightly. Bradley bit the inside of his lips, holding back his words. “Yeah, you did suck, but you want to try to be better?”

“Obviously.”

“Then there. You’ve admitted to me that you fucked up. Do I completely forgive you? No, but am I willing to give you another chance? Yes.” Bradley looked at you, a hopefully but still hurt look on his face.

“Why?” A slightly confused look was on his face.

“Because I love you. I’ve been saying that.” You brought a hand up to his cheek, cupping it while you kissed him. Bradley let his tears fall as the two of you kissed, a gentle and emotional kiss. The both of you pressed your foreheads together, resting and taking each other in.

“I know, I love you too.”

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster #bradley bradshaw smut #bradley bradshaw angst #rooster smut #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x f!reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster x reader #top gun fic #top gun smut #top gun angst #top gun x reader #top gun fanfic

2K notes · View notes

no-passaran · 1 month

Text

The story of Jesus Christ Superstar is the tragedy of its characters coming to realise that they have no power over their lives, fighting as much as they can against the role that history/God is forcing them to fulfil, but failing because they were doomed from the start.

Jesus in Gethsemane desperately asking God why should he be killed, how is that going to make anything better, only to realise that it doesn't matter what he believes or wants because it's already fixed ("why then am I scared to finish what I started? What you started, I didn't start it.") and there is nothing that can be done. Against his will, he will have to continue performing this role to its bitter end ("God, thy will is hard, but you hold every card. I will drink your cup of poison, nail me to your cross and break me, bleed me, beat me, kill me. Take me now, before I change my mind.")

Judas realises later, after he has already fulfilled his role in the story. This realization and regret leads him to commit suicide, being the only way out of a life that has already been fixed to make him the eternal villain ("you'll be remembered forever for this", "I shall be dragged through the slime and the mud")... even though this apparent choice of suicide was, following the same reasoning, also taken for him ("my God, I'm sick! I've been used! And you knew all the time. God! I'll never know why you chose me for your crime. Your foul, bloody crime. You have murdered me! Murdered me! Murdered me!"). Judas understands what he did, and he understands what he will be, forever. He understands that not only has he been Judas, he now knows what it means to be Judas: Jesus insulted him by telling him ("you liar, you Judas"). In the very end, he completely understands what it means to be a Judas, because of what he had done.

And Pilate is the last one to try by all means to escape his destiny. He's seen it in his dream, but he refuses to follow it. He refuses to sentence Christ, telling the crowd that he's a crazy man but that's not a crime, trying to convince them that it's against their best interest to ally with Rome, and begs Christ to let him help him get saved ("why do you not speak when I hold your life in my hands? How can you stay quiet? I don't believe you understand!") but of course, the post-Gethsemane Jesus already has accepted that they're doomed, and he's the one to tell Pilate ("you have nothing in your hands, any power you have comes to you from far beyond. Everything is fixed, and you can't change it."). The realization is dawning on Pilate as he desperately continues trying to cling to his ability to take meaningful choices, literally begging Christ to let him take that decision ("you're a fool Jesus Christ, how can I help you?") but with the crowd's shouts for crucifixion, and the crowd circling him and pushing him against the wall, he really does realize it: he has no choice; he will have to play his part in the story. And he knows how it will end, he knows what his role will mean, he also knows what it means to be Pilate ("then I saw thousands of millions crying for this man, and then I heard them mentioning my name and giving me the blame"). The only thing he can do is remove himself from it, but even then he is aware that that won't stop the already-fixed history ("I wash my hands from your demolition. Die if you want to, you innocent puppet").

After all, we saw it from the very first scene. Isn't this what the story's framing means? The overture shows the actors arriving to the filming set by bus and getting ready to play their role. And, at the end of the film, they pack and leave. They came here to recite a script that someone else wrote, to fulfil a story where everything is fixed, and they can't change it. That was what they were made for. Innocent puppets.

#jesus christ superstar #💬#cinema

132 notes · View notes

hazelnut-u-out · 4 months

Note

Do you think about the whole Rick Prime thing? Did it kinda feel anticlimactic???

Yeeahhhhhh, but... I think that's the point!

At first, I was a little bit disappointed with how they handled the arc. I really thought Prime was going to be the Big Bad! Having the whole climax of C-137's arc with Prime as a mid-season episode felt oddly... dismissive? It was like it wasn't even a major event.

After sitting on this for a bit, I think I actually love how they've handled it. I think this is the first time I've really seen the show take something that perfectly fills a 'Television Run' format (i.e. big events at the ends of the seasons for cliffhangers, and so on) and subvert those expectations into something more like 'Real Life.' In my opinion, a lot of the show is shown as how characters involved view the events, especially in terms of tonality. That's why so much of the show fits these media formulas-- Rick views his life as a show.

I often refer to the majority of the show as 'Rick's Director's Cut' because we get events skewed from his warped perception of his own actions. (You can even think of 'Morty's Mindblowers' as Rick literally editing footage into a better story.) Of course, we see why he's sympathetic. As the viewer, we understand why he's doing what he's doing, even if we don't agree with it. He views himself as the 'sitcom dad'-- comically fucked up and abusive, but secretly caring. Rick believes that he's got just enough heart for his actions to be excusable, forgetting that the people he hides his intentions from aren't getting the 'full picture' like the viewer is. From Morty's perspective, Rick does these things for no reason-- unless you count not liking, caring about, or valuing Morty. Of course, we know that's not the case, but Morty doesn't. His family doesn't.

The Prime arc is fascinating to me because of the contrast between how Rick viewed it versus how it happened from the perspective of the viewer. Rick went into the Prime arc thinking it would be a massive, badass epic where the underdog comes out on top and the audience is satisfied with the conclusion. As the audience, this is probably the first time we haven't really been able to click with that, you know? It was unsatisfying, even for Rick, and now he's sort of saddled with, 'Oh, shit. This is real life. What comes next?'

Sure, they're little guys on our television screens. To them, though... that's real life. Real life is messy. Real life is unsatisfying. Real life is disappointing, the editing is sloppy, arcs aren't linear, and dysfunction and substance abuse aren't silly character traits.

The whole point is: What happens now?

In real life, what happens after your abusive parent passes away or you finally get revenge on the person who tore your life apart? In real life, what happens after you beat the shit out of the guy who assaulted you? Or after your dad apologizes for walking out on you?

There's actually a Malcolm in the Middle scene reminiscent of this concept. Francis was blamed by Lois from the time he was born for ruining their relationship. Throughout the entire series, his arcs deal with their broken relationship. When she finally apologizes, the pinnacle of his hopes and dreams-- the only thing keeping him alive, it doesn't help. It doesn't fix the years of psychological abuse he suffered, or the fact that he's as broken as he is because of her failure as a parent.

youtube

Another great example is in Adventure Time, when Finn thinks he's ripped Martin's arm off for causing him to lose his own. The revenge doesn't help. (Sorry, not digging for a link to the scene lmao.)

Those things aren't satisfying on their own. The fantasies and daydreams we barter through aren't feasible cures. That's real life. What happens afterward is what you do next. That can be a tough pill to swallow. There's no quick 'fix-all' for everything that's fucked you up. What helps? Hard work. Dedication. Time. Therapy. Grief. Acceptance.

Rick never really worked through the grieving process, you know?

There was Denial and Anger:

And where he got stuck... Bargaining:

After Prime's death? Depression:

Four decades later, we're finally on the cusp of Acceptance.

That's what that look into the hole was. That's what putting up Morty's picture was. That's what choosing to walk away was.

Acceptance.

In conclusion of my long-winded rant, I liked the Prime arc. Fits nicely into the season after the finality of 'Fear No Mort.'

Well done, writers.

Thanks for asking! <3

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #unmortricken #fear no mort

120 notes · View notes

twig-tea · 2 months

Text

Cherry Magic Thailand Exceeded My Wildest Dreams

This series really surpassed all expectations I had for it. I've already yelled a few weeks ago about how this series righted years-long wrongs both with TayNew and with the Japanese adaptation, and encouraged everyone to watch this show. I'm so happy that the finale didn't let me down, ending its run as a near-perfect series!

The series as a whole did so many things right and only really stumbled slightly on one of the mid-series filler episodes that didn't affect the arc of the main characters or the story overall, so it was forgivable. Everything else in this series is a joy.

Cherry Magic Thailand has perfect character arcs, with relationships that all champion communication all the way through. There's a reason why Kurosawa and Adachi experienced the penultimate episode breakup in the Japanese adaptation but Karan and Achi did not; Karan and Achi worked so hard for this relationship all the way through this series, and that makes them feel so solid that a breakup would not have felt believable or true to them.

I loved how quickly and fully Karan embraced Achi's magic, and used it to be as embarrassing as possible about his feelings. This worked so well in the Thai version; For a man who is not super worried about homophobia, and is not as worried about being seen as less than perfect (the way the Japanese version's Kurosawa was), but who instead is mostly certain that he's Too Much, finding out that his every thought has been heard by the man he loves and that he fell in love with Karan because of those thoughts must have been the hugest relief. Karan's energy after the confession scene is consistently: I can't believe I'm lucky enough to have this.

And that's why it's so critical that Achi already has a ring in his pocket in this finale when Karan proposes. There are of course the reasons why this works as an ending to Achi's arc; The story starts in a way that feels like Karan is leagues ahead of Achi; Achi struggles with feelings of inferiority at the beginning of the series, just like he did in the Japanese version.

I already wrote in a response to @lurkingshan's ep 11 post about how Achi's arc on this was so good, he managed to gain enough self-confidence to build a workplace friend group, move forward in his career, and proactively move forward his relationship. For Achi, proposing is a perfect end to his arc of coming into himself.

But Karan was already self-actualized. If anything, his fear in this relationship has been that Achi would never love him the way Karan loves Achi. Before they ever get together, Karan organizes his day at the office to Achi's schedule, making sure to reduce minor inconveniences and discomforts without ever expecting to be noticed, never mind reciprocated. Karan lies to Achi all the time about how far out of his way he went to do things for Achi (from buying drinks to braving Songkran crowds to bring him medicine). When they first start dating Karan over-plans their first date, and Achi has to remind him that small moments are also good. During the dreaded episode 8 confrontation with their boss, Karan takes the responsibility of their relationship on himself alone. When they were preparing for Achi to be leaving for a month, Achi straight out told Karan he was worried about Karan's ability to handle the separation. He hung out outside Achi's house secretly, and designed a new krathong for them to release at Loy Krathong, but was willing to let go of their Loy Krathong date at the first sign Achi might have to skip it.

This is the first time Achi really steps up in their relationship, but it's still following Karan's lead--he knew celebrating Loy Krathong was important to Karan, so he prepared a surprise for a different day so that they could still celebrate together. While Achi is on his work secondment, they both prioritize staying in touch, but Karan takes a surprise trip out to see Achi before the month is over. And they have sex, and so Achi can no longer hear Karan's thoughts.

This means Karan is able to keep secrets from him again, like a proposal. And so Karan buys a ring, retaining what he thinks is his position as the one who does the work to move their relationship forward. But Achi surprises him by asking him to meet his parents as soon as he comes back from his secondment. And then he overhears Achi tell Karan's mother that he is making sure Karan isn't the only one putting effort into their relationship.

And then Karan is so overwhelmed with happiness that he can't hold back and asks Achi to marry him, and because he's Karan he has the ring already and is carrying it with him. And Achi tells him yes.

And this is the critical bit: Achi then tells Karan that he was also planning to propose to Karan, and proves it by pulling out his own ring. This is physical evidence that Karan is not alone with the intensity of his feelings; that Achi is doing what he told Karan's mother he would, and is putting effort into their relationship himself outside of steer from Karan; that Karan is allowed to love as hard as he does and he will be met halfway by a partner who is a partner in every sense of the word. When Karan says to Achi "I really love you, you know?" And Achi says "I do", it's not just about Achi knowing the depth of Karan's feelings intellectually, but about him knowing the depth of Karan's feelings by reciprocating them. It's about Karan knowing that Achi won't just coast on Karan's love, but will make sure Karan is being taken care of too.

[The part that breaks my heart about that is that Achi's kindness is the thing that attracted Karan to him in the first place; but Karan is so used to not being taken care of that he never expected Achi to turn his caretaking skills on Karan, even after they started dating. Quietly devastating, nbd]

Let's talk about happier parts of this last episode I noticed instead. The parallels in this last episode are so stacked on top of one another that I find it almost overwhelming; We have the two Karan/Achi bench scenes in CMT, from when they become a couple and when they get engaged; there's the proposals between Karan and Achi and between Jinta and Min, and how complete opposites they are (in the contrast between each individually having planned rings and having them on their person even for a mutually unplanned proposal, and how that contrasts to using a pen to draw on an engagement ring because neither of them had prepared at all); there's the use of pens as a proposal tool in Jinta and Min's story and in the Japanese adaptation's Kurosawa and Adachi's story; the perfect reverse parallel between the heat levels of the couples in the Japanese adaptation and the Thai adaptation--I love that Thailand flipped this rather than keeping them both moving faster, it makes the universe feel more balanced somehow--and (as @liyazaki illustrated in her post) that final fake-out parallel that ends the Thai and Japanese versions.

Love the decision to honour the Japanese adaptation while keeping to the manga on which it's based by giving Pai a story that has a clear aroace read while building the foundation for a start to a relationship with Rock that is believable and one I can root for.

I can't talk about Jinta, Min, Rock, and Pai without talking about how much I love these ride-or-die friends that Karan and Achi have acquired. The way Pai drops everything to get Achi to the airport; the way Rock kidnaps Karan without knowing why; the way Jinta and Achi talk to one another using their powers; the way Jinta looks at Achi and Karan when they have dinner together. All of these things warm my heart so much. The way Duj is the most intense busybody in the office but it comes from a place of caring.

And I cannot end a post about this show without talking about just how funny it is. Karan's internal scream, Jinta being able to hear the cat's internal voice, Pai's shipping constantly being misinterpreted by Achi and Rock, these jokes landed every time.

This post got out of hand, again. TL;DR I LOVED THIS SHOW. I loved the humour, the friendships, the relationships, the character arcs, and the scenery. I loved seeing Tay and New absolutely slay on my screen again, I loved seeing another adaptation of this stellar source material, and I loved watching something so well put together week to week. It's been such a good run of shows!

#cherry magic thailand #bl meta #typed so that i can stop thinking it #long post

102 notes · View notes

burrowbaddie · 1 year

Text

Ghosted

Joe Burrow x Female Reader

Series Summary: You, one of the top actresses in the world find yourself falling for the unbelievably attractive quarterback, Joe Burrow. But as Joe falls faster he finds that everything isn’t so golden about the world’s golden girl.

Acts: 2/?

Status: Ongoing

Warnings: female!reader, smut swearing, oral (m&f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, taking plan b, mentions of toxic past relationship, age gap between ex and reader.

Act 2 Summary: Joe gets ghosted but that doesn’t stop him from falling effortlessly in love with you. But he learns loving you comes with flaws. WC: 6.1k

Series Masterlist

"You what, bro?" Ja'Marr asks.

"I told her I loved her," Joe replies, shutting his locker. Ja'Marr grabs his shoulders and shakes him.

"You have only been dating for nine months. What goes on in that brain of yours? Let the women say those words first. I taught you better than this." Ja'Marr shakes his head, causing Joe to laugh at the younger boy's words. It's been three weeks since Joe dropped the L bomb on you and three weeks since he last spoke to you.

"Should I call her?" Joe asks, looking through his phone. You haven't returned his texts or his calls.

"She ghosted you. Your girlfriend ghosted you. I need you to get a grip and move on." Ja'Marr grabs Joe's shoulders and forces him to sit on the bench.

"Don't listen to a word he says. Doesn't he have like three baby mamas?" Sam chimes in, making Joe laugh. Ja'Marr flips him off and walks away. Sam sits and holds out his hand, asking for Joe's phone. Joe hands it over and lets him scroll through the messages. He makes a face and shakes his head.

"She definitely ghosted you. Maybe she's just busy. She is one of the top actresses out right now." Sam hands the phone back. They didn't help Joe at all.

"He said what?" Eliza, your best friend, shouts, jumping up from the bed. You turn around and nod your head.

"He said he loves me. I panicked and didn't reply. I've been ignoring him since that day."

"Girl, that was three fucking weeks ago! What is wrong with you?"

"I can't say those words to him. I didn't even think things would get this deep. I thought we were having a good time together. Oh God, he's calling me!" You toss your phone on the bed and start pacing. Your best friend grabs your phone and forces it into your hands after answering it.

"Hey-Hi," You answer, glaring at her.

"Oh, hi. I didn't think you would pick up. How are you?" Joe nervously fidgets with his seatbelt.

"Busy. I'm sorry. I picked up a new role, so I got invested. I'm sorry." You apologize.

"I understand. Umm, I'll be in LA for some work. I was wondering if I could come to see you."

Eliza nods her head, telling you to say yes. You frown and shake your head.

"Yes. Sure. That would be great. Text me the info. I have to go." You hang up and throw your phone.

"See, was that so hard? The guy seems to really like you. Give him a chance. He's hot. You've said the sex is fantastic, and he's the hottest thing right now. America is obsessed with him. This is a win. See where it goes." She tells you. You start playing with your fingers and catch yourself before you can get carried away. Joe arrives Thursday night, and you guys stay in for dinner and a movie.

"I can't believe you've never seen Titanic. It's my favorite movie like ever." You're about to sit in the movie chair, but Joe pulls you onto his lap.

"A movie about a real historical tragedy is your favorite?" Joe questions you. YOu bury your face in his neck.

"When you put it like that, it sounds terrible. But Leo and Kate are all-time greats. Their chemistry was beautiful. You'll see." You climb off his lap and sit in your chair as the movie starts. Joe barely watches the film. His eyes continue to drift to you. At one point, you start crying, and he leans over to wipe your tears.

"The way he loved her. Urgh, my heart is so full."

"So you are a fictional romantic?" Joe asks. You pause the movie and turn to him.

"What do you mean?" You ask, feeling a little on edge.

"I mean, I confessed to you, and you panicked and ignored me for three weeks. But things in movies and shows have you smiling and crying."

You open your mouth to speak but don't know how to answer.

"I like what we have going on, but love isn't something I'm looking for. If you want to continue this relationship, I want to keep things the same." You stand up, taking the empty popcorn bowl to refill it, but Joe lightly grabs your wrist and stands up.

"Why does love scare you?"

"It doesn't! I have the right to be happy with my situation, and I don't think love has anything to do with that."

Joe cups your face and reads your expression. His thumb grazes your bottom lip.

"Do I make you happy?"

You nod your head, getting lost in his puppy blue eyes.

"Do I make you feel good?" Joe asks, bending down so that your lips touch. You nod again and lean forward to kiss Joe, but he pulls away with a chuckle.

"Don't tease me," You pout, pushing his chest and storming away. Joe takes a deep breath. Joe could tell a lot about you from your eyes. You were going to run every time love was the subject. Maybe you had a bad relationship, but since you've been famous, you never had a relationship. Or perhaps it wasn't public knowledge. Joe follows you upstairs into the kitchen, where you are pouring a glass of wine. He lifts you and sets you on the counter.

"So, who was this guy?"

"What guy?" You ask, sipping your wine. Joe stands between your legs.

"The guy who made you afraid of love." He replies, rubbing your thighs. You chuckle and put your glass down.

"I don't want to have this talk. I want my wonderful, strong, and very attractive boyfriend to take me upstairs and fuck me into the mattress. Is that so hard to do?" You throw back the rest of your wine. Joe scoops you up and takes you to the bedroom, where he, in fact, fucks you into the mattress.

"Feels good." You cry, riding him, letting your hands squeeze his as you feel the rush of another orgasm flood over you. You buckle over when Joe suddenly grabs your hands, thrusting into you faster.

"I'm going to always make you feel good, baby." He whispers. Your mouth falls open, feeling Joe pound away at your poor overstimulated cunt. Joe quickly pulls out and flips you over. He pumps his cock a few times and cums all over your stomach. You reach up for him, and he complies, bending down to kiss you. Joe carries you again toward the shower this time. After changing the sheets, you guys lay in bed watching movies. Joe stares at your body through the sheet as he massages your feet. You turn around, smiling.

"Should I put clothes on?" You ask, noticing the print under the white sheet. Joe shakes his head, his face becoming noticeably red. He slides his hands up your calves as you turn back to the TV. Joe slyly slides the sheet off of your body. He repositions himself so that he is hovering over your butt. You squeal when he takes a bite.

"Joseph!" You giggle, turning over on your back. Joe kisses up your body to your lips.

"Keep your clothes off." He whispers. You nod your head as he works his way back down. When he gets to his treasure, he places your legs on his shoulders. The moment is interrupted by your best friend barging into the room. Joe grabs a pillow to cover himself.

"Omg! I am so sorry!" Eliza covers her eyes.

"E, what the fuck?" You shout, getting on your knees.

"Sorry! But tonight you were supposed to go to Zendaya's birthday party. We're already late!" Eliza yells, backing out of the room.

"Fuck. Sorry, Give me an hour." You yell, scrambling to get out of bed.

"Umm." Joe sits on the bed awkwardly.

"Oh, right. Do you want to come? We can't go together, but if you come with E, I think it should be good."

"It's alright. I'll stay here and watch something."

"Are you sure?"

"No worries, go have fun."

You return to the bed to kiss him and hurry to your closet. Joe makes himself comfortable, but after two hours, he becomes bored and decides to explore your home. He starts in the living room, where you have photos of your three brothers and father. After you and he first hooked up, he might have done a small (deep) dive on you. It did help that his sister-in-law is such a big fan; all he had to do was listen to her rant. Even his cousins adored you, so getting his family to tell him all about you was easy. Unknown to him, you did your own research on him. Joe had spent some time watching your interviews. He loved how much you adored your family. He could see the genuine happiness they brought you every time you spoke about them. Joe hopes to be introduced to them one day. He put the photo down and made his way to your piano room. You started playing piano when you were seven and haven't stopped since. Joe liked that you had such a special talent. On top of being a phenomenal actress, you had an incredible ear for music. He could listen to you play and sing for hours. It's insane to him how you didn't get into the music business first.

"Hello?" Joe picks up a phone call from you.

"Hey. Missing you. Can you tell I'm a little drunk?"

"Yeah, baby. Are you coming home?"

"What do I get if I come home?" You slur into the phone. Joe leans against the wall smiling to himself.

"Come....find out." He says, emphasizing come. You giggle into the phone and tell him you are on the way home. And when you get home, Joe takes over your body for the rest of the night. In the morning, you feel like a brand-new person. You stand by the stove, humming and dancing as the bacon cooks. Joe sits on the counter, watching you.

"You are so beautiful. Do you know that?" Joe asks. You stop and roll your eyes.

"I'm in nothing but a t-shirt freshly fucked. My hair is all over the place. I look a mess." You complain.

"I think you look the most beautiful right now. Mostly because I helped you get to this state." Joe grins. You slap his knee and turn back to the stove.

"I have to fly back home today after this interview but don't ghost me again." Joe hops down. You nod your head, flipping the bacon. Joe wraps his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

"Baby, I'm serious. I care about you." He says, turning you around. You look at him and give him a reassuring grin. But Joe can see it in your eyes; you are again in flight or fight mode. Joe links your fingers with his and kisses each one.

"I care about you too. I won't ghost you. I'm enjoying my time with you and where this is going."

"Good. Does it make you uncomfortable when I tell you I love you?" He asks you. You let go of his hand and turn toward the stove.

"I'm not uncomfortable. I'm afraid."

"Of what?"

"Losing myself...again." You whisper the last part. Joe doesn't say anything, but his heart breaks for you.

"I won't let you lose anything."

"You can't promise that. When people fall in love, one person always falls deeper." You shake the feeling creeping up in your gut and start cooking again. Joe leaves you to your thoughts and packs his bag. Breakfast was a little more awkward than you wanted it t be; you tried to make small talk, but you could tell something was bothering Joe.

"If you want to end things, it's okay." You push your eggs around, and Joe puts his fork down.

"I don't. Let's talk again. I have to go now, but I'll call you. Come visit me when you can." He stands up and walks over to kiss you. Then a week goes by with no word from Joe, so you hope on the first flight to Ohio to surprise your boyfriend for a home game.

"You did amazing!" You squeal as he scoops you up.

"How long have you been waiting for me? If I had known you were coming, I would have hurried up. I still need to shower." Joe states fixing the towel around his waist. You lick your lips and pull your shirt over your head.

"I can help you with that." You say, unbuttoning your jeans. The smirk on Joe's face doesn't leave as he watches you tip-toe toward the shower. He stands by, watching you turn the shower on. The warm water hits your body, and you hold your hand for him to join you. Joe drops his towel, following you into the shower. He is very surprised at your spontaneous public session but doesn't complain one bit. How can he when he's losing himself while giving you the deepest strokes? Joe holds you against the shower wall tiles as you dig your nails into his shoulders.

"Fuck Joey right there." You cry out.

"Yeah, I know." Joe chuckles against your throat, leaving open-mouth kisses on your neck.

"Can I cum inside you?" Joe whispers. You nod your head, too fucked out to realize what he's asking at first. When your orgasm hits, you go limp in his arms.

"Yeah. Cum inside me." You mumble. This cause Joe to rapidly snap his hips, moaning your name and complimenting you on how good you feel. You can't help but let it all go to your head as he cums inside you for the first time. You spend five more mins making out and then finally get dressed.

"Oh yeah, your parents want to meet at their house. I was sent in here to tell you that. I'll meet you over there." You kiss him goodbye and leave. Joe quickly dresses but finds his athletic trainer there stunned.

"No fucking way. You are hooking up with-"

Joe covers his mouth before he can say your name.

"I need you to keep this quiet."

"Why? You are banging the hottest chick in the game right now. She is everywhere."

"I know, but please."

"Fine, but you owe me, Joe." He says, leaving. Joe prays that he doesn't open his mouth. Ever since you ghost him, he feels he needs to walk on eggshells to keep you from running. There had to be some reason you wanted things to be kept quiet. Joe arrives at his parent's house and finds you in the back, where everyone is around the bonfire. You stand up to give him your seat so you can sit on his lap.

"Your mom was getting worried about you." You whisper into his ear.

"Sorry, my girlfriend held me up." He answers back. You cuddle up to him, listening to his parents tell you stories of when Joe was younger. The night ends with you and Joe back in bed.

"I have to go to Italy for the next few weeks for some shoots."

"Is that why you came to see me?" Joe asks, sitting up. You stare up at the ceiling.

"I didn't want you to think I was ghosting you again." You lean on your elbow, turning to the side to give him your full attention.

"Can I ask you something?" Joe is ready to dive deeper into that head of yours.

"Go ahead."

"Why don't you want to go public about us? I'm sure there will be speculation when you've been to two games already and photos of you around my family."

"Which is why I've attended other sports games. I went to the Rams games a few times."

"But why? Why keep us a secret?" Joe asks, rubbing your hand. You slip your hand away and get up from the bed to grab your clothes.

"I should take a plan B." You say, going through your purse. Joe lays back down and stares at the ceiling. It seems he takes one step forward with you and two steps back.

"Can we talk without getting mad or changing the subject?" This time, Joe gets up and follows you to the bathroom.

"Joe, I can't give you the answers you're looking for. There are reasons I do what I do. I can't love you right now."

"What do you mean right now? Then when? Do you think I will wait around for you to love me?" Joe's voice comes out louder than he expected it. Both of you are shocked. You squeeze your palms so tight that your nails dig into your flesh. Joe looks down at your closed fists and tries to reach out, but you flinch away.

"Hey. Baby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to raise my voice." Joe's voice is softer. Joe reads over your body language and takes a step back.

"I need to go. I have to catch a flight to Italy. I'll call you." You stand there waiting for him to leave the bathroom. Joe takes the hint and leaves you to get dressed. He sits on the bed panicking, but you come out of the bathroom in a different mood.

"I'll call you when I land, okay? If you have some time, you should come to visit me." You kiss his cheek and grab your phone. Joe doesn't walk you out because he's never been more confused in his life—the dry texting between you two last weeks. During Joe's bye week, he uses this time to fly out and see you. Eliza plans everything so when you return to your hotel from a long day of shooting; you find your boyfriend with roses. A feeling of guilt rises in your chest, and you drop your bag running over to him. Joe pulls you into his arms.

"I'm sorry for being difficult. I want things with us to work. If you give me some time, I think things with us could work out."

"Of course. That's what being in a relationship is about. We will work on things together."

"Thank you for coming to see me. It's been such a crazy schedule. I'm so tired. You don't have a game?"

"On bye week, so no game this week. I decided to come here, spend some days together, and fly back. So, are you going to show me a good time?" He asks. You nod your head eagerly. You show Joe the set and your trailer, telling him all about the movie's plot. Joe even gets to watch you in action.

"Who's your favorite actor?" Eliza asks while you guys have dinner at a local restaurant.

"Of all time or currently?"

"Currently, well, besides your girlfriend." Eliza gives you an elbow. You sip your wine and lay your head on your boyfriend's shoulder.

"My favorite actor right now is Jackson Taylor. I think he's amazing. I mean, I've probably watched every movie he's ever done. He's a good guy too. He has so many charity organizations too. I hope to collab with him one day. And he's from Ohio, so can't go wrong there." Joe laughs. Eliza looks at you, and your eyes are staring at the table.

"Nice." You comment, excusing yourself to use the restroom. Eliza watches you walk away and turns her focus to Joe.

"How much do you love her?" She asks, ready to give him the best friend shakedown.

"I'm in love with her completely. But I can sense she's not ready for that step. I want to take things as slow as she needs." Joe takes his card out to pay the bill.

"Be careful with her. She's fragile. But I think she's coming around these days. I haven't seen her so happy like this in a while." Eliza's comments stick with Joe all week. He knows there's more to the story, but he decided to take his time and let you tell him when you're ready. When you get back to the States, you go visit Joe. It's Christmas time, and you decide to spend the holidays with him. One year ago, you met at your cousin's wedding, and here you are, all lovey-dovey.

"Fuck, baby." Joe moans moving your hips as you ride him on the couch. Joe bites your shoulder, bouncing you up and down on his cock, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

"Don't stop." You cry, feeling yourself reach another orgasm. Joe flips you onto your back, pushing your legs to your chest.

"One more baby. Give me one more." Joe coaches another orgasm out of you as he fills you simultaneously. He grunts, and his hips stutter. Joe throws his head back and runs his fingers throw his sweaty hair. You lay there trying to catch your breath. Joe pulls out of you and reaches down to scoop you up for a quick shower. He kisses your back in the shower and tells you how much he loves you. Once both of you are fully dressed, you guys finish decorating your Christmas tree. Yeah, you both got carried away and decided to have sex in the middle of decorating.

"I did date someone before you." You place a snowflake on the tree and turn to Joe.

"Yeah?"

"I started dating him when I was 18. He was 30."

"What the fuck?"

"Umm yeah. It was hard for me to move on from him. The reason I can't go public is that he-I signed an NDA. And if our relationship ended, I couldn't date someone else for five years."

"What piece of shit did that to you?"

You shake your head.

"It doesn't matter. Joe, I'm happy with you. I want a future with you, so if you can just be patient with me, I can work this out."

"5 years...How long has it been?"

"3." You stop decorating to face Joe. He places his snowflake down and opens his arms.

"What he's doing can't be legal. There has to be some loop and-"

"No one knows besides Eliza. I was stupid and young, and new to Hollywood. I shouldn't have signed anything, but I thought he was my forever." You bury your face in Joe's chest as he rubs your back. Joe doesn't pressure you into telling him more about your ex; instead, he makes you his mother's famous hot cocoa, and you watch the polar express on the couch. Having Joe in your life gave you back the normalcy you craved. He was fun, caring, and loving. Joe always made sure you were comfortable and able to be yourself. In his eyes, you weren't a star; you were his world. Spending the holidays with Joe and his family left you feeling renewed. Joe has been asking to meet your family, but you're too afraid to take that step. What if things don't work out? What if Joe hates your family dynamic? What if Joe leaves you? What if-

"What are you thinking about?" Joe groans, kissing your forehead. You've been taking space in his home for the last few weeks. You didn't realize Joe was awake for the last 5 mins.

"Nothing. I have to fly home today. It's my dad's birthday." You close your eyes as Joe pulls you closer to his chest.

"Yeah?"

You loved waking up to Joe's deep morning voice. He always called you first thing in the morning when you were away from him.

"Would you like to meet him?"

"Are you sure?" He asks cautiously. You only nod your head. With Joe's season-ending because of the loss to KC, you thought that this was the right move. Joe will have a lot of downtime, so it's better to get the meeting over with. And with that, you find yourself making room for Joe in your own home. He arrives today, and you've already psyched yourself into him meeting your family. Everything needs to be perfect. But, of course, nothing goes your way. You get called into a last min appearance at some day party. Joe tells you it's okay, and he will find his way to the house. But Joe gets invited by Ja'Marr, who was there, so it works out for you. The place is packed with celebrities; you laugh and greet some friends and make sure to mingle with everyone because once you find Joe, you plan to stick by him for the rest of the party. That is, until you spot him. Ja'Marr is the first to see you and waves you over. You smile, walking over and hug him, Joe, and the man they're talking to.

"I can't believe we are talking to the legend himself, Jackson Taylor," Ja'Marr says excitedly. Joe agrees with the comment.

"Don't brag on me too much. I don't think I'm a legend yet." Jackson replies with a big grin.

"You are! Don't humble yourself. You are up there with Leo, DeNiro! You are!" Ja'Marr can't contain the excitement and asks you to get a photo of all three of them. You take his phone and snap a few pictures.

"How do you guys know her?" Jackson asks, placing his hand on the small of your back. Joe doesn't miss the way you stiffen.

"Who doesn't know her? She is also an amazing actress. She is on the cover of every magazine, and she's da-"

"My brothers are huge Bengals fans, so I took them to a few games." You interrupt Ja'Marr and take Jackson's hand off your back. Jackson takes this opportunity to hold your hand.

"You guys should do another movie together," Ja'Marr adds.

"What do you think, sunshine?" Jackson asks, kissing your hand. You nervously laugh and slide your hand out of his.

"That would be awesome. I need to find Eliza."

"Actually, you guys don't mind if I steal her away, right?" Jackson asks. Ja'Marr shakes his head, and Joe doesn't respond. Jackson takes your hand and pulls you away from the crowd. You snatch your hand out and walk in the opposite direction. Jackson follows you, calling your name. You bump into Joe and stumble back. He catches you and gives you a concerned look.

"I-"

"Joe Burrow. Look at us two Ohio boys. I wanted to talk to you about joining one of my charity events. Let's chat." Jackson steps in. Joe looks down at you, and you give him a weak smile.

"I'll leave you guys to it." You walk away to find Eliza and leave the party. But Eliza is currently chatting up some guy. You don't want to block, so you find a seat and stay there. Joe finds you sitting alone and takes a seat next to you.

"It was that piece of shit, wasn't it?" He asks you, eyes trained on Jackson, who is talking someone else up. You don't take your eyes off Eliza in the opposite direction. Joe shoots up, and you grab his hand.

"I'm ready to go home." You say with pleading eyes. Joe takes a deep breath, and you leave together. At home, Joe doesn't mention Jackson, but you know in the back of his mind he's dying to talk about it.

"How did you know it was him?" You ask, taking a seat next to him.

"When he touched you, you stiffened. Every time he spoke and we laughed at one of his stupid jokes, your face held a look of terror." Joe rubs your hand. Little things like that could bring you back to the surface, so you appreciate every small gesture from Joe.

"Oh. I thought I got better at faking it. But seeing you laugh with him, I feared he would take you away from me." Your voice is sad again, and Joe stands up and squats before you, cupping your cheeks.

"No one on this Earth can take me away from you."

"Joe, you don't know what kind of power he holds. He can have me blacklisted at the snap of his fingers. I don't know what I would do if he ruined your career too." You take Joe's hands off your face and stand up. Joe follows you to the kitchen.

"What are you saying?"

"We should break up. It's for the best that way; nothing can happen. I'm not breaking the contract and-"

"He can't hold that contract over you. You're a person, not an object. You can date whoever you want to date. Fuck that guy."

"Joe, please, you don't understand how this works. I won't go to jail, sure, but I will have my career ruined. I've worked so hard to get where I am. I can't let him take that away from me. My father gave up everything just to get me into auditions and school. I can't throw it all away. My career is too important!" You didn't realize you were yelling until the silence filled the space between you and Joe.

"I know you're scared, but he no longer controls you. Think about the people that would be behind you if you spoke up. Think about the women you will help keep him away from. Most importantly, think about how free you will feel after it all comes out. You deserve to be happy....to be loved."

You shake your head and step away from Joe.

"I'm sorry." You walk away, leaving Joe standing there, trying to find a way to fix this. But he is clueless for the first time when it comes to you. Joe finds you in the bedroom texting. You tell him it's over and that he should go home. There is nothing Joe can do but give space.

"She broke up with you? Out of nowhere?" Ja'Marr laughs, throwing his head back. Joe shakes his head and stares at his phone. His lock screen is a photo of you sleeping on his arm. He unlocks his phone to look at his home screen, which is another photo of you smiling down at him. It seems like an innocent photo, but you're in Joe's jersey riding him in that photo. Joe locks his phone and groans. He tried texting you, but you blocked him.

"Can't believe you messed that up. But since we both are single, we got invited to a party. There are bound to be bitches all over." Ja'Marr pulls Joe off the couch.

"I'm good. I'm going to stay here."

"Stay here and be sad? What kind of a best friend would I be if I let you do that? We are in LA; there are too many women for you to sulk about one, even if she is the hottest. Besides, I need a DD unless you want me to drink and drive!" Ja'Marr forces Joe to get dressed and come along to the party. Joe talks to a few people and mingles.

"Joey B! Am I allowed to call you that?" Jackson smiles, making his way over. Joe instantly stands up straight and glares at the older man.

"Joe is fine." He replies, correcting him. Jackson raises his eyebrow and nods.

"Thanks for coming to my party. I like to host these little events to have fun. You don't need to be football Joe; just be yourself." Jackson taps Joe on his shoulders with both hands. Joe removes his hand and tries to walk away.

"Is everything okay between us? Earlier, you were my biggest fan, and now I'm sensing animosity." Jackson crosses his arms over his chest. Joe wants to tell him to go fuck himself, but he has to protect you. This isn't protecting you.

"Everything is good. I'm tired, and Ja'Marr dragged me to this party. It's an honor to be here." Joe replies with a smile. It made him sick to his stomach to be conversing with him.

"Been there. So many of my friends dragged me out to parties; you get used to it, trust me." Jackson offers Joe a drink, but he declines. Joe continues to engage in unwanted conversations with Jackson, and when your name is mentioned, Joe mentally calms himself down.

"You guys seemed a little close at the party earlier."

"Not really," Joe mumbles, looking for Ja'Marr through the crowd.

"Seemed like it, but that one is quite the girl." Jackson smiles and laughs to himself.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Joe turns toward Jackson, facing him. Jackson is a few inches short than towering Joe. His aura is intimidating, but Jackson laughs it off.

"You know these young stars that get around. I wouldn't get mixed up with that one. There are rumors, and I'm guessing you would like to keep the title as America's All-American good boy." Jackson's smile isn't inviting or nice. Jackson is threatening Joe. Joe stares into his green eyes, not backing down.

"I think I can handle myself."

"Relax. It was a joke. You're a good kid. Enjoy the party. I'll have my people contact your people." Jackson bumps Joe's shoulder as he walks away. Fuck. He knows. Joe knows he knows. There is no way he doesn't know. Joe had one opportunity to protect you, and he blew it. He let his stupid anger get the best of him. Joe grabs Ja'Marr, and they leave the party. The next morning, Joe is one of the celebrities on the gossip blog.

Jackson, Ja'Marr, and Joe photographed at party together.

Joe stares at the photo of him all smiles with the man who ruined his relationship without even trying. He throws his phone and screams. You haven't unblocked him, and you probably saw the headline. He picks up his phone, logs into IG to find your page, and realizes he's blocked there too. Joe does the most desperate thing he has ever done and emails you.

"Why is Joe emailing you?" Eliza laughs, checking your email. You have your makeup artist stop so you can read the email.

"Can you block it? Thank you." You tell her, handing the Ipad back. Eliza takes a deep breath and blocks Joe's email. The door opens, and Jackson walks in. You sit up straight as the room clears. Eliza stands in front of you protectively.

"What are you doing here?"

"I'm the executive producer of the show. I think I'm allowed to be on set." Jackson laughs. You stare at him through the mirror.

"What? Your name was not on the project at all. I wouldn't have let her book if-"

"Money talks. I'd like to talk to her privately."

"Go fuck yourself. Stay away-"

"It's okay." Your voice is meek. Eliza looks at you, and you give her a nod. She leaves the room. Jackson stands behind you, touching your hair.

"Do you know why you got this role?" He asks. You don't look at him; only focus on your hands. Jackson softly grabs your face and turns it towards him.

"I'm a good actress." You whisper. Jackson laughs a loud belly laugh. He wipes his fake tears.

"Sweetheart, you're not good at all. I told the director to hire you. I think this is a better way to keep an eye on you. I met your little boyfriend."

"I don't have a boyfriend. You made sure of that." You spit, snatching your face out of his hand. Jackson lifts your hand to kiss it.

"I care about you. If you get caught up with relationships, it will only mess up your career. This is how I look out for you. I'm always going to love you. I'm always going to care about you. Stay away from him."

"I don't know who you're talking about. I'm not-"

"Joe Burrow."

You don't move at the name, and Jackson smiles.

"Maybe you are a good actress. I'll see you out there, sunshine." He kisses your cheek and finally leaves. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You quickly put out hand sanitizer on your hand, trying to rub off his touch.

Joe flies back home to Cincinnati, heartbroken and confused. His brother opens the door, shocked to see his younger brother looking heartbroken.

"Is Janet here? I need to ask her something."

"What's up?" Janet appears almost out of nowhere.

"I need help with a contract. You're a lawyer, so I figured it makes sense." Joe says, walking into the living room.

"Your contract? What's going on?" Dan walks over, joining the conversation.

Joe takes a seat. If he's going to protect you, he needs to know everything on the contract. He doubts you will let him see it, but maybe Eliza would help in that area. Joe was going to do everything in his power to help you, even if that meant you couldn't be with him in the end.

A/N: Here is the Actress AU! I hope you guys like it. It will be different from Second String but still good! Let me know what you guys think! If it sucks, umm don't tell me! JK. I hope you guys are ready for the rollercoaster of fame and fortune! Joe is definitely all simp in this fic. He loves loves loves him some you! I will post a tg list soon so check the mater list for it!

#joe burrow x you #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow smut #joe burrow #joe burrow imagine #joey b #joe burrow x oc #joe burrow fluff #FAIY #val writes

431 notes · View notes