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jaylver · 6 days

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THE FIVE YEAR DEAL — P.JS

synopsis: having to deal with a four year long situationship was hard enough in the first place, but when your favourite situationship texted you on a random night after a year of no contact, it was a much harder scenario than imagined. what happens when he brings up that old pact you made about getting married in 5 years and you start rekindling a relationship that was lost?

pairings: non-idol!jay x afab!reader

genre: ex-situationship to friends to lovers, second chance romance, angst, romance, pining

warning(s): profanities, drinking and partying, slight violence

wc: 6.5k

a/n: after a month of not posting, here's a very very belated jay fic that was meant to be for his birthday (scream). please leave a feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated! muah xx

Park Jong Seong was your roman empire. There, you actually said it.

He was a thought that constantly hovered in your mind from time to time. Whether he was a ghost that lingered to haunt you or a sweet thought that remained, you couldn't tell. All you knew was that he had changed your life for the better and the worst.

A lesson you'd often tell others is to never get yourself involved in a situationship, worse if it's with your best friend. Unfortunately, you were speaking from experience which involved Jay, your ex situationship slash best friend. Look how you and him eventually turned out.

An almost four year long situationship with Jay that took an absolute toll on you had ended the year before. You agreed on no contact with him after, trying to create a peaceful life without him out of your life, yet it was entirely impossible when you shared mutual friends that reminded you of your good times with him even though he wasn't around.

You hate to admit it, but losing a person who was your best friend cut deep into your gut and heart combined. It was, at least, for the better. That was something your friends told you that you gradually recited in your head. It wasn't very effective, however. You still thought about him, quite often actually. But you supposed that was the haunting and painful part of having a relationship with someone that was almost a lover but never became one.

It was the same exact night you were thinking about him when a text appeared on the homescreen of your phone. You stared at the notification for God knows how long, debating if your lack of sleep was finally catching up to you. The contact name was unmistakable, there it was, Jay's text. Jay, your Jay?

The strength you had trying to act casual, but in reality, you were dying internally. The hold that man has on you was unimaginable.

jjong: you up?

you: ?

jjong: did you delete my number?

If only he knew, he would've probably laughed. You never deleted his number, nor did you even change his contact name. His name constantly stuck out in the list of contacts, just like the memories of him in your head.

you: no, i didn't. what i meant was why are you texting me at 2 am?

jjong: i thought of something, something we said four years ago

you: okay …?

jjong: you said if we're both still single in five years, we should get married

you: you took that seriously?

jjong: should i not have?

you: dumbass, i was tipsy

jjong: you didn't say that when i brought it up after you were sober

you: it's stupid

jjong: it's not. come on, y/n, can we please start afresh? i miss you.

He missed you?

jjong: i'm serious. can we please meet up?

you: you swear you're not going to pull something?

jjong: no?? the most i'll do is pull out an engagement ring but who knows

you: cut the crap, jay

jjong: don't act like that didn't make you giggle even the slightest

jjong: meet me downtown. the usual place we go to :)

How could he act so nonchalant when bringing up the past? The usual place that you haven't been to after cutting contact with him was something he still recalled, but to you, it was a place you avoided up until now.

It was hard to sleep when your mind was filled with thoughts of him, except this time, instead of missing him, you dreaded him and the part where you're going to meet him for the first time in a year. What was he going to say?

The wish you wished upon the lone star that night was for Jay to finally set his feelings and emotions clear. But whether it will come true or not, the truth will soon befall on you.

The day you planned to meet Jay was a cloudy one. It was likely a foreshadow, but you chose to ignore the overthinking you constantly did.

You were the first one there in the cafe, specifically sitting at that table by the corner which you and Jay usually hogged. Being there early due to mostly the anxiety, you got to calm your nerves down and prepare yourself to face Jay.

It shouldn't be hard to meet someone you already knew, but why did it feel that way? The unspoken feelings and those that were left hanging, unaddressed, was what haunted the both of you. You supposed this meet up with him would hopefully change that the slightest bit. All you hoped for was that he didn't become a stranger to you.

You failed to realise his approaching figure as you were sitting with your back facing the entrance, it was your usual spot anyway. Not to mention, his footsteps were quiet as ever, a thing about him that was unchanging.

"Y/N," you heard his voice before meeting his eyes, watching as he slipped onto the chair opposite of you, the warm aura of his never failing to provide a sense of comfort for you. "Hey,"

The change of his hair colour grabbed your attention first. The silvery colour that the light bounced on suited him well. He always wanted to experiment with his hair, and you didn't expect him to really do it. Other than that, he had the same features, same smile, same warm colour tone eyes and skin. All in all, he was the Jay you knew, the one you loved.

"Jay," you spoke his name as if it was a foreign taste on your tongue. His irises flashed an unreadable spark at the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. You fell into silence, not knowing how to start the conversation whereas he seemed rather speechless instead.

He shook himself out of it, a slight frown etched onto his lips. "Thanks for making time to see me. I know … you probably didn't want to, so I'm glad you came," his tone contradicted the way his texts sounded, the initial confidence was currently wavering.

"It's no problem," you shook your head softly, a secret hope you had kept shouting in your mind where he would fix everything.

"I didn't want to leave us at that, Y/N," his sudden confession surprised you, but it left your heart beating in both anticipation and anxiety. "The way we left things, it wasn't right. I wasn't right for doing the things I did,"

You knew what he was talking about, or at least the obvious one out of the bunch. That night at his place where you were tipsy and he was holding you in his arms, you accidentally let out the secret you've been holding in: you loved him. As expected, it obviously strained the relationship as he insisted on it being nothing serious. You were stupid for thinking he would've reciprocated it, but all he did was leave you stranded on the empty space of heartbreak alone.

"I'm sorry. I was an asshole, and I was an idiot for not realising how much you meant to me until you weren't there next to me. You carved a hole in my life and my heart was moulded for you," his gaze fell to the table, an audible draw of breath from him.

Jay glanced up to lock his eyes with yours again, the twitch of his hand that was holding itself back from reaching over to you. "I'm not a religious man, Y/N, but every night I prayed for God to lead me back to you," he swallowed thickly, "I know I fucked up, that's why we stopped … everything. I deserved it, but I really want to fix everything,"

You opened your mouth to speak just to close it after a passing second. He said exactly what you wished for him to say, but why was it so hard grasping everything before you? Was it the shock?

"I missed you, Jay," it was the truth, an angering truth that you held onto for ages. "I really did. I think about you a lot and the mistakes we made. I wish we could go back to the way we were. You're my best friend," you knew that word wasn't just what it was, it held something more than that. "And I just want you back,"

The softening of his gaze only exposed the vulnerability on your face. "Can we start again?" He said quietly, seemingly testing the waters. "As friends, and we'll go slow,"

"I'd like that," you nodded, never leaving his gaze. You didn't say it, neither did he, but you weren't putting away the chances of something more than just friends, an unspoken hope that you kept. Maybe this time, everything would turn out right.

Before you parted ways with Jay and left for home, you shared a simple conversation in front of the cafe. Just like old times, the conversation flowed naturally as if time didn't separated the two of you in the first place.

"Can I hug you?"

For the first time in many months, you felt the warmth and touch of Jay's that you missed. It was familiar, comforting, a band aid that covered the crack on your heart. This was the first step to heal that broken heart of yours. Closure. It was for the better.

The rest of your day was only filled with thoughts of him, till the point where it had you lying in bed, awake and turning, wondering about the fate of you and him. A second chance was about to make or break everything.

The next time you saw Jay again was at a party his frat brother held.

Ever since that day at the cafe, you didn't stop texting Jay. You realised at one point that you had fallen back into your old self once more. Giggling at his messages, anticipating his notifications, calling him at odd hours. All of which didn't go unnoticed by you, and you wondered if you should be horrified or nonchalant. Given that you and him were on better, speaking terms now, you brushed it off as nothing.

"Well, isn't it my favourite girl," Jay had his arms wide open the moment he approached you, that smile of his glowing from a distance away.

You smiled back, you always did anyway, letting him embrace you into his arms. "You smell like beer," you scrunch your nose up in distaste, pushing yourself off of him, but your arms around his shoulders remain.

"But I'm sober," he casted a wink at you, ignoring your eye roll as he took your arm from your shoulder and slid his fingers into your hand. "Come on, the guys are over there,"

To think about explaining this to the rest of your friends was going to be interesting to say the least. They already knew from your continuous text screaming for bloody help, but for them to witness it in person? You couldn't help but wish to cower into a corner out of embarrassment.

Heeseung was the first to raise a discreet eyebrow at you when you approached, hands intertwined with Jay, the same guy you swore you cut contacts with. That's a lie, apparently. Jake and Sunghoon seemed impassive, but you could tell from their several exchanges of glances, they thought the same as Heeseung did. However, both you and Jay were their friends, and no matter how messy it was, they were just the people stuck in between.

Jay eventually excused himself from the conversation to get more drinks for himself. You had a feeling he was about to be drunk by the end of the night no matter how he denied that. You knew his patterns through and through. Once he was out of ear shot, the boys turned to stare at you accusingly.

"Did you guys kiss?" Jake was the first to be blunt. The other two were eager to know the truth as well.

You practically jumped in your seat, as if a bullet had shot through your chest. In that way, his zero filtered question had that effect. "What? No! We agreed on being just friends,"

"For now," Heeseung chimed in.

"What?"

"You were literally holding hands with him,"

"It's platonic,"

"Considering your past with him, I think that's the last thing you can claim as platonic when it comes to Jay," Heeseung quipped back, making a valid point that you chose to ignore.

"Whatever. We're currently friends and we're not rushing into anything. We don't want to ruin it," you rubbed your arm uneasily, the thought of your past recurring saddened you.

"Then when are you going to actually get together?" Sunghoon asked, sounding rather exasperated as though he's the one in your position. At one point, you wished you could trade places.

"Ask him that," you leaned your head onto Jake's shoulder for emotional support, the question from Sunghoon was a second bullet to your heart. You had been the one sending signals from the start, but when it came to Jay reciprocating it, it was rather bleak.

"You're still hung over him? It never … went away?" Heeseung leaned his body closer, increasingly immersed into the conversation deeper.

"How could it go away when I've always been in love with him?"

The words stuck to you throughout the night. The truth and reality of you loving a man that threw everything away was a burden you carried. The egging thought of wondering if Jay even reciprocated the feelings after a year crept into your head. He didn't reach out to reconnect for nothing, did he?

Just as you've guessed, Jay was truly drunk out of his mind by the time the party was ending. Your friends were trying their best to haul Jay into his apartment while you trailed behind, wishing you were more of help than this. Jay was eventually dumped onto his bed, slurring out random sentences that made zero sense to you.

"Do you need me to drop you back? I didn't drink," Heeseung turned to you first once all of you stepped out of Jay's room.

"I'll be fine. I didn't drink much, so I think I can drive myself back. I also want to stay a while more to make sure he's fine," you took a glance back at the open bedroom door, seeing Jay still awake and turning uncomfortably.

"Will you be okay? I mean, you just started talking again, I don't want you to be uncomfortable," Heeseung placed an assuring hand on your shoulder, concern filled eyes boring into yours. You hadn't even thought about this before, the emotions you had whenever with Jay.

You smiled at your friend. "It's Jay. I will never feel that way about him,"

Heeseung reciprocated your smile, seemingly more relieved. "I know."

Your friends soon left, the loud sounds of their drunken chatters faded into the night, leaving you in a deafening silence. A deep intake of breath was what helped you regain your confidence back to finally step into Jay's room, facing a dazed looking Jay who was sitting on the edge of his bed. He seemed a tad bit more sober from the multiple cups of water he had drunk.

"Are you alright?" You took a few steps forward, holding onto the doorframe.

He glanced up, the dim light provided by his desk lamp illuminated his face, the sharpness of his features contrasted the tears he had swimming in his eyes. It was unmistakable, but it weighed you down onto the ground, not knowing if you should be taking another step.

"Jay?" You called out cautiously, swallowing thickly. A quiet sob broke the short silence which followed, the glistening tears made their way down his cheeks. It was your first time seeing him as vulnerable as this.

You got to his side, knelt on the ground, trying to search for his gaze which persisted to run away from yours. He tried hiding his face behind his hands, but you were quick to stop him, holding onto them tightly. It was then he was forced to finally meet your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you heard his weak voice utter out, his hand that you held onto gripped yours. "I'm sorry," he whispered tearfully.

It was your first time witnessing him this broken, crying nonstop and leaving his emotions out on display. For the first time in ages, you couldn't properly read him like you've always done. Was it your fault for making him feel this way? Was there nothing but pain in this so-called relationship you and him shared?

"I miss you," it was a confession, a painful sounding confession that he's held onto for a long time, the look in his eyes told you he meant it, but there was something else that he had: grief. "I'm sorry,"

You didn't know how long it was that you stared at him for, the thoughts in your mind had been long gone, the shell of your body remained. His words and the emotions behind them were heavier than you anticipated, it hit you hard and rough. You sighed, lowering your head for a second. "You should get some sleep, Jay. It's late and you're buzzed. I'll talk to you in the morning,"

Jay was silent. You could tell there was a hint of disappointment from him that you wished you weren't the cause of it. You got up to your feet, staring at the top of his head as he fought to avoid your eyes. So be it. As you turned to leave, you felt a hand around your wrist, pulling you to a stop.

"Will you stay?"

You've heard this one too many times. Yet, you were always a victim to it. Unlike most times, you knew this was different, letting your heart guide you to him instead of your head. It might've been foolish, but you were willing to be a fool that was persistently in love just for him.

"I'll stay."

That night, you barely slept as he laid in your lap, sound asleep. Your fingers traced the sharpness of his features, smoothing over the softness of them. You wondered to yourself whether reconnecting was a good idea in the first place if this odd feeling of yours kept cutting deep into your heart every time you're with Jay.

You would never wish to leave him once more, but did he feel the same as you do? Or will he be the first to let you go again?

Maybe, just this once, you'd have to be the first to let go, even if it's a small step, it was something better than nothing.

With one last apologetic look at Jay, you closed his bedroom door and left his home with a heavier heart than usual. By the time morning comes, you hoped both yours and his memories from the night before would be a fever dream. Something so intimate and vulnerable, how were you to forget quickly? Even as you drifted off to sleep in your bed, you could still remember the tears on Jay's face, it being the last thing you remember before waking up to your doorbell ringing.

It was as if your thoughts had manifested Jay to show up at your doorstep. He wasn't a figment of your imagination, but actual flesh and bones. No matter how you rubbed your eyes trying to get yourself to be more awake, he wasn't disappearing away from view. He was real.

"Can we talk?"

Those three words immediately brought dread for you. Jay's face was impassive, but it was evident that he was tired, restless. You nodded, moving away to let him in. It was easy for you to let him in, whether it was your home or your heart, you've always kept a space for him.

"What is it that you wanted to talk about?" You stepped closer to him, seeing as he hadn't taken a seat and feeling something odd shift in the air.

"Us, Y/N, us," Jay breathed out, strained and hoarse, as if saying that word had pained him deeply. "I don't like this, I hate it. The 'us' that we are now,"

"What?"

"We can't keep continuing on like this. We can't keep pretending everything's fine when it's not,"

It was too early for this, too early for you to be feeling burning internal rage. "Are you kidding? So what are you going to do? Leave me alone again? Go no contact with me again just because you don't want to face me again?"

"No!" Jay took a step closer to you, eyes blazing with equal fiery as yours. "I'm not ending things again, never. I can't lose you this time," his voice wavered, his hand reaching for yours and you let him hold your hand. Was that your first mistake? "I'm in love with you,"

You wished those words hadn't left his lips. For ages, you thought him confessing his true feelings would've fixed things, fixed you and him both, but at that moment, you realised it wasn't that easy, the cracks on your heart remained.

"I know when you look at me, you see everything that went wrong, but when I look at you, I see the person I'm in love with," every word pierced your heart deeper, the desperation in his voice was clear, a saddening tragedy was imminent.

"You don't get to do this," you whispered, backing away from him and freeing your hand from his hold. The hurt that flashed across his eyes didn't go unnoticed by you. "You don't get to tell me you're in love with me out of nowhere after we stop talking. It's not fair,"

"Am I … too late?" His voice was quiet, in the midst of the hurt was a pinch of hope.

"You're not," you didn't want to lie, you knew your feelings were the same and unchanged, but you just weren't ready to cave in and accept his feelings that fast. It wasn't fair. "Time. That's what we need to start afresh,"

Jay nodded, jaw clenched, face stoic. There was no denying that he was hurt, he didn't hide it anyway. "I'll make it right. I'll fix us."

Was it possible to mend everything?

Attending a party to get drunk was probably the worst idea you had in a while.

The thoughts of you and Jay haunted you like a sickening plague, the conversation you had with him was constantly eating you up from the inside. You were pushing him away, you knew so, you were becoming like him in some ways. How ironic it was.

That was why the moment Julie invited you to her boyfriend's house party, you knew you had to have some type of getaway, though it wasn't the most ideal. The only problem you didn't appreciate her not telling you earlier was the person you wanted to avoid most was standing with the rest of your friends in a corner playing pool.

"Look, I didn't know they were coming," Julie defended herself, leaning her body close to your side. "What's up with you and Jay anyway?"

"It's complicated,"

Julie sighed, shaking her head. "Of course it is, but how blind and dumb could you both be?"

"Hey!"

"It's obvious you like him and he likes you, why can't you guys just—I don't know—get together?"

"It's not that easy, I wish it was. I think we're both hurt, or I'm the coward this time. We … talked, he finally said he loves me, but I can't accept it just yet,"

"Why not?"

"I gave my heart to him, Julie. For years I willingly gave my heart to a man that constantly blocked me from his heart, which was why we ended things. Only then he realised his true feelings and right now he's asking for my heart back. I just don't think it's fair," your eyes dropped to the carpeted ground, gripping onto your plastic cup tightly.

"Then would you rather regret it?"

"Huh?"

"Would you regret after pushing him away and never becoming something you've always wished to be? Constantly think about the what-ifs? I know I'm not in the right to say anything since I'm not you, but the only thing I wish to say is to go with your heart," she placed a hand on your shoulder. "If your heart yearns for him, it'll always stay that way."

Why couldn't you stop your heart from yearning for Jay? It was as if Julie had read you like a book, even in those times where you and him stopped contacting one another, you never once forgot about him. It was true, your heart was yearning for him.

Meeting new people that were introduced by Julie and her boyfriend momentarily took your mind off Jay. Their friends were people you probably wouldn't meet again, so you didn't mind when you were left alone with one of them.

"You come by here often?" Juyeon, one of the guys, was by your side like a leech instead of being a good company. His presence was screaming red blaring signals to you.

"Not much," you chuckled awkwardly, wondering when Julie would return with the rest of her friends.

"Can I take you out some time?" Wow, he sure knew how to cut to the chase.

"What?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to come by to my place after this?"

Oh, this was your sign to run, wasn't it? "I—well, I have someone to meet—"

"Come on, give me a chance—" he grabbed onto your hand right before you could successfully leave, this was when you remind yourself never to get involved with frat boys.

"Sorry—" you didn't have the chance to finish your sentence when your hand was forcefully ripped away from his hold, another familiar feeling of someone's hand on yours instead. You turned just in time to see Jay standing beside you, visibly fuming.

"Leave her alone, man," he placed himself in front of you, shielding you away from Juyeon.

"Look, I'm just trying to invite her over. You know what, she's nothing special anyway—" the sound of Jay's fist clashing into Jueyon's jaw stopped him from continuing on. You were too shocked to comprehend everything happening before you, even as Jay lunged onto the man, you could do nothing but stare.

"Jay!" The shouts of his name clicked in your mind, breaking you out of your shell-shocked state. Every one of your friends rushed to get Jay off of Juyeon who ended up scrambling away, leaving a crowd of onlookers.

He was hesitant to turn around and look at you, you could tell so from his stiff shoulders, but you stayed hoping to see his face. You reached your hand out shakily to touch his shoulder, yet, before you could actually do so, he turned around, eyes avoiding to meet yours.

"Jay—"

There he went brushing past you, not a single word spoken from him. The slamming of the front door snapped you out of the hurtful daze you were in to follow him out of the house. He was standing on the pavement, unmoving. You approached him carefully, scared and paranoid of executing a wrong move.

"Jay," you walked to stand before him, feeling a tinge of hurt when he took a step back away from you. "Jay," you repeated his name, this time with a bit more desperation. "Why did you do that?" There was no answer, only a sullen silence which blurred into the night.

You shifted your attention to his fist, the forming of a bruise and some cracked skin decorated the fist he used to punch Juyeon. Your hand absentmindedly reached for his. "You're hurt," you were about to touch his hand when he pulled away, avoiding your hold, a look of hurt flashed across your features, but you tried to hide it.

"I can't let him talk to you like that," he whispered, looking anywhere but you. You wished to grab his shoulder and forcefully make him look at you.

"Jay, it's okay,"

"It's not!" He snapped, finally having the nerves to meet your eyes. His change of tone shocked you, your feet took a step back unknowingly. "It's not okay. Not when I feel like I'm going insane thinking you're going to get yourself in danger,"

"I'm sorry—"

"Don't," Jay heaved a breath in, voice shaking slightly. "I should be the one to say sorry for acting this way. I'm sorry,"

"Jay—"

"I'll see you around. Get home safe." You couldn't even reach him and he was already gone, leaving into the night. There was a twisting feeling in your heart that was unbearable. Was this the end of it all?

You felt even worse walking back into the house when the rest of your friends asked you about Jay and his whereabouts. It was awkward staying there after what went down, so you ended up going back home too, throwing yourself in bed to forget everything that had happened.

Jay, the fight, Juyeon, you wished those three things never happened that night. You wished you and Jay never happened at all.

"You're just going to leave it at that?"

A bottle of alcohol late at night with the company of your friends without Jay was what you needed after a rollercoaster of a events. The amount of shots you've taken wasn't enough to blur the image of Jay's tear stained cheek or the hurt in his eyes when he told you he loved you, not even the time he avoided your touch. You wondered if love was meant to be this painful. If it was, why were you so adamant on it?

"I … don't know," you set the glass down, chewing the insides of your cheek. "It'll be too cliche and stupid to say it's complicated, right? I think I'm just hurting him. I still love him, but I can't let myself to do so. It's weird, him reconnecting after a year and suddenly telling me he's in love with me out of the blue. What does all that mean?"

Sunghoon let out a hiss from the shot he took in one go, then turned to you. "Jay might be a dumbass for realising his faults and feelings a little too late, but there's one thing I'm sure about him, and that is how much he cares for you and loves you. I remember after you guys cut contact, he had trouble sleeping for months. He said the thought of you leaving haunted him,"

"I know it's unfair to you how he's only realised his true feelings now," Heeseung interjected, pouring another round into your glass. "But I think you're just hurting yourself more by pushing him away, just like how he did to you. You love him, don't you? Don't repeat the same mistakes, you've wasted a whole year together, don't waste a lifetime regretting what could've been."

Two stubborn people walking in constant circles, that was you and Jay. Too scared to face your feelings, hurting not only the other but also yourself.

Being absolutely emotional and pissed drunk only resulted in you crying your eyes out, which made your friends worried out of their minds till the point where they had to call the person who would know how to comfort you. However, they failed to realise in time that the same person was the cause of your tears.

"Where is she?" You heard his voice from a mile away, it was something you'd never forget. The others were slowly leaving your apartment after hoisting you to your bedroom. The process of which involved you sobbing and your drunk friends trying not to drop you.

The thudding sound of footsteps filled the silence in your home. It stopped right at the doorstep to your bedroom, the hesitation was evident when he entered after several beats. You laid on your side, facing away from him. His approaching figure made your heart race, you felt the bed dip beneath you upon him taking a seat next to you.

"You're awake, aren't you?"

You glanced up at him, the dimness of your room casted a shadow across his face, but he was still the most beautiful person you've seen. You slowly sat up, trying to move your body a distance away from him to make everything less surreal. The silence in the room was overwhelming, neither of you knew what to say first.

"Do you hate me?"

"What?"

"I was the first to let go this time," you chuckled dryly, doing everything but meeting his eyes, maybe you were the coward all along.

Jay let out a breath of disbelief, shaking his head. "How could I ever hate you?" It was a question, it was his truth, his dying truth that he held onto with all his heart. He glanced down, staring at his hands, the bruises from the hard punches thrown were healing. "I shouldn't have lashed out on you that night. It wasn't right for me to do so,"

In the midst of your hazy mind, your brain functioned well enough to recollect the memories he mentioned. Oh, that night, that incident. "It's alright, I know you didn't mean it, you were trying to look out for me, I get it," you averted your gaze, letting yourself smile a little to lessen the tension. "I think I was just scared,"

"Of what?"

"Of you leaving again,"

Jay's gaze softened in the darkness, his hand reaching out to hold yours and it was one of those times that you let him do so knowing how your heart felt like exploding. "I'm never leaving, nor do I hate you. I hate myself for pushing you away, for realising everything too late, for hurting you," he took a deep, yet shaky breath, "If anything, I love you,"

The drowsiness you were experiencing somehow disappeared in a blink of an eye, your mind blank, all you could hear in the back of your mind was those three words which Jay uttered. The air around you and him had shifted, the angry tension dissipated.

You felt his hold on your hand tightening, just the same as your heart tightening at the sight of Jay's heartbroken smile. "I love you," it was a confession, something ever so freeing to finally be able to say to him knowing your true feelings were reciprocated. "I'm sorry for running away,"

Jay moved closer, his face now barely a few inches away. Everything was a blur, how his other hand travelled to cup your cheeks, his breath practically fanning your lips. "I should be the one to say sorry," those were his last words before pressing his lips on yours.

It wasn't your first time kissing him, but something about the kiss was unlike the times you've experienced. Despite all those playful, lighthearted kisses you shared with Jay, you knew this was different. Jay was pouring his endless unspoken apologies and devotion, a mix of relief, sadness, longing were hidden behind it.

Even as you pulled away, you could feel the palpable longing between you and him. It was as if years of silent desperation, confusion and pining had melted into one, finally being addressed at that moment. Neither of you spoke a single word, just holding each other close, admiring one another. It was intimate, something you couldn't recreate with someone else.

"I will never leave you," he whispered, his thumb stroking your cheek reassuringly. "You're a piece of me and my heart, you make me whole. I would be a fool to ever let you go again,"

You stared at him as if he was your entire universe, the effect of his every word carved a space into your heart. Eyes closing momentarily, you let yourself melt into his touch, smiling softly. "I trust you."

That was all Jay needed to hear before a small smile spread across his face. You could hear it in silence, see the look on his face and that spark he has in his brown irises, you knew what it was, he was in love.

That night, he stayed with you until morning came. You held onto one another tightly, as though scared that it was the last day to be together. Little words were exchanged, but you were content by him holding you close.

For the first time in a while, you were able to fall asleep with no lingering thoughts, and for the first time ever, he was yours, and you were his.

Telling your friends you and Jay were finally together was a rollercoaster of emotions that you'd never forget.

It has been months since you and your best friend officially got together. The reactions from people around you were nothing but relief and support after knowing how much hell you two went through. For once, you actually believed in the 'forever' that was promised.

You didn't question the sound of keys unlocking your front door. It has become a habit for Jay to stop by your place every evening, almost just like before and it felt as if everything was falling back into place. Every visit of his came with something he prepared to surprise you, which was why his cheeky grin gave it away.

He pressed a kiss on the top of your head before joining you on the sofa, the playful smile of his never once left. "I have a surprise,"

"Chocolate cake?"

"Okay, something not edible,"

"What is it?" You couldn't help smiling too, nudging your boyfriend in an attempt to get him to reveal his so-called surprise.

"Close your eyes,"

"Are you serious?"

"I'm serious. Come on, close them!" He was giggling, egging you on to go along with whatever he has up his sleeves. "Now, give me your hand," You complied. Not long after, you felt something cold and small making contact with the skin of your palm. "Open your eyes,"

You were first met with Jay's anticipating gaze, then you looked down, seeing a ring sitting on the palm of your hand. "A ring?" You were surprised, picking it up to look at it closely. It was beautiful, simple yet so intricate in detail, as if it was customised for you.

"Don't worry, it's not an engagement ring, it's a promise ring. I know we did make a five year deal, but we're still taking it slow," he picked the ring from your hold and gently took your hand, slotting the ring into your ring finger. "Maybe in another five years time, I'll actually get to fulfil our pact and replace this with an engagement ring,"

This was the closest you've felt your heart exploding. Heat rushed to your face, heart beating nonstop, you were suddenly the person who's first developed a crush for Jay all over again. "Since when did you become so cheesy," you scoffed, a small smile rested on your lips.

"Only for you, duh," it wasn't a lie whatsoever, Jay never hid himself when it came to you. "Let's call some takeout and stay in,"

"Are you staying over tonight?"

"Only if your bed is open to let me in," he made himself comfortable next to you, throwing his arms around you to pull you closer to his side.

"You know it always is."

Jay didn't say anything, but his smile was enough of a response. No matter if it's your bed, house or heart, you've always reserved a spot specially for him. He made up a part of you just the same as you were with him. He was your home and safe space. You were glad you made that stupid pact on one drunken night that led him back to you.

☆ permanent taglist (open):

@silentkarnival @strvlveera @freshsaladbowl @bejewelledgirl @fakeuwus @yenqa @hsgwrld @ilovegyuvin @enhacatalog @aishigrey @shinrjj @kgneptun @ilovegyuvin @hyunniesvlog @eleanorheartschishiya @nanabbg @letwiiparkjay @teddywonss @classicroyalty @run2x @yannnnaj @jakesfurry @gyuwooboozle @nylajp24 @usedto-me @vernonburger @simjyunnie @haerasblog @rikizm @jakevascaino @sunpov @ms-no1kpopstan @jiawji @rikizm @cheerrxy @kimsunoops @heelariously @thesassy-mia @shawnyle @cloud-lyy @aposjsj

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notanactressyayy · 3 months

Text

—𝐰𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞—

pairing. ex! Natasha Romanoff x fem! reader

summary. in a day you simply wanted peace, two unexpected visitors showed up. for one of them, you were glad.

warnings. smut! I am NOT responsible for your content consumption! — making out, thigh riding, strap on usage, cursing, angst (w happy ending), soft dom Nat.

notes. my first language is portuguese, so I apologize for any grammar errors. feel free to give me advice, though!

divider credits: @cafekitsune ★

Natasha Romanoff was known as a cold, ruthless woman, who never cared for anyone besides herself. Most of the people didn't know this was due her past — the Red Room was always in complete secrecy, so they feared her. She was already used to it. Whenever she started something with someone, in the next day, she had an empty bed as a gift. To be completely honest, she always felt used. Men and women touched her, to leave her in the morning.

That changed when she met you.

You could say you'd changed her completely, for the best, of course. She became more open with you, learned to express herself better and was not known as the most selfish Avenger in the team anymore.

But just like people say, not everything is a bed of roses.

Instead of using that achievement to improve your relationship, she began to care a little too much about her team of superheroes. At some point, she was no longer paying attention to you.

Reports this, reports that. Missions and more missions. "I have to go somewhere with Cap." "I have to train with Tony to a mission." "I can't, I'll have to go with Clint."

When you confronted her about this, begging for her to understand and willing to help her change, she decided that it was a better option to part ways. You were devasted, and she saw it. That made her heart ache — someone actually lov— liked her enough to want to stay.

This was the one and only reason Natasha didn't forget about you. The only reason she thought about you everyday. The only reason she teared up whenever entering her car and seeing the polaroid with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on her rearview mirror, that she didn't dare to take down.

Today, you were leaving work, heavy tired steps echoing on the pavement's wooden floor as the moonlight illuminated the room. The building was already empty, the streets, darker than your thoughts.

As you started walking to the nearest bus stop, you heard quick footsteps behind you — it was already late and usually there was no people on the streets like this. You turned your head, "you gotta be kidding me".

"Hey, Y/n!" Peter exclaimed, running to catch up with you. "I didn't know you were going to be here at 11:30pm."

You rolled your eyes and took a sharp inhale, but like always, tried to be polite. This so called coworker of yours was always looking at you, following you everywhere, and asking you things, not always work-related. You always made it clear that you weren't interested in men, and he insisted on saying he could 'change your mind'.

"Hey, Peter." you replied, faking a smile and nodding. "You need me to review your documents again?"

"Oh, no. I was just wondering if you wanna go on a date with me. Did you see the restaurant that just opened over there? I could treat you to—"

"No, I don't." you cut him off, more harshly than you intended to. "Look, Peter, I'm sorry. But I don't want anything to do with you, alright? So if you want, go ahead and find somebody else."

You shook your head, not even waiting for his reply and picking up the pace again, quickly rushing to the bus stop. That's when the guy showed you a side that you just suspected, but preferred to believe he didn't have

"C'mon, Y/n." he grabbed your arm, nails digging into your skin. "You won't broke my heart, will you? You're such a gentle, beautiful, kind woman. You will give me a chance."

You cleared your throat, feeling him get closer, and thinking about a certain Red Head — how she would gently, delicately graze your skin with her fingers, so softly whispering into your ear and bringing you to her embrace—

"Back off."

"Oh, no." he laughed. Such a creep. "I won't back off. And if you don't cooperate, I'll make you give me a chance."

Your hands trembled now, silently praying to whoever was seeing this just call the cops or do something. You didn't know the guy anyway. He didn't talk to anyone at work beside you, and you never got to know him, you would never. That's when it would be a good use to have a spy girlfriend. Just the last thing you expected to happen was to hear the sound of a gun cocking behind you, and a very familiar female voice.

"She said back off."

Relief unconsciously washed upon you as your arm was released, only because of the gun, though. You knew that if if wasn't for her, who knows what could've happened there. Peter left, annoyed, but the Russian swore to herself that she'd make his life a living hell.

"... Natasha?" you whisper, turning around with a confused and even scared frown.

"Yes," she worriedly rubbed your arm, shooting you, slowly making the feeling of the disgusting hand fade away. "Are you okay?"

"I am..." you nodded subtly, leaning into her touch. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I saw a woman being harassed. What was I supposed to do? Mind my business?" she said, obviously avoiding your question.

"You know this is not what I mean." you frowned, carefully letting go of her caress and wrapping your arms around yourself.

Natasha sighed, trying to think of a way to explain herself. 'Oh, I'm here because I miss you so much I can't even sleep anymore.'? No, it wouldn't do.

"I... followed you."

"Oh, great, so I'm being stalked twice today." you hissed, making Natasha look down with your harshness.

"No, Y/n.. I'm here for.. personal reasons. I saw you leaving work, and I noticed that guy following you. I decided to follow too, until he grabbed you and I knew I had to intervine." she explained quietly.

The fact she had said 'personal reasons' deeply hurt you, but you couldn't do anything, you had broken up after all. You nodded, and prepared yourself to walk tp the bus stop again.

"Wait," Natasha quickly stopped you, her eyebrows furrowed. "I won't let you go home like this."

This was something about the old Natasha you knew, the protective one. It was okay, you were tired, and a ride would be no harm. "Where's your getaway car?"

She smiled softly at your joke, and tilted her head. "Around the corner."

You two walked silently towards the vehicle, as she unlocked the doors with the keys and you entered the passenger seat. You threw your bag on the backseat before you could focus on the environment around you, and see the polaroid of you and Nat with the heart pendant you gave her hanging on the rearview mirror.

Natasha noticed your gaze as soon as she entered the driver seat, clearing her throat and starting the car's engine. "Couldn't bring myself to take those down."

You stayed silent, but your eyes could tell everything. I'm glad. Oh, I'm so glad.

Natasha remembered your address as if you hadn't broken up nine months ago, and when you reached your place, you too much disappointed for your own good.

"Thank you for the lift," you whispered, turning your body to be able to grab your bag from the backseat — in the exact same moment Natasha turned to unbuckle her seatbelt — your fronts touching, which made you two a little startled.

The problem was that you didn't pull away, neither of you. You slowly turned your head to meet Natasha's gaze, your face so close to hers you could feel her breath. Familiar. It was pure instinct, almost muscle memory, of the times she always kissed you goodbye when dropping you somewhere.

You didn't even notice your hand going up to hold the back of her neck, much less when she placed her hand on your thigh, and leaned in so your noses brushed. Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment, almost savouring your closeness, your aura enveloping her once more. Then your lips barely, barely grazed, breath hitching, as she couldn't take it anymore.

The redhead pressed her lips against yours, giving them a long peck. It was surprising how much time you lasted without air. You didn't break the kiss, just darted the tip of your tongue out to lick her bottom lip, begging for entrance. She gave in, trying to pull you closer but being stopped by the goddamn control panel. As soon as you felt her tongue touching yours you realized that this was going too far. You pulled back harshly, leaving you two panting for air and a disappointed Nat.

"Do you..." you shakily breathed. "... wanna come in?"

"Mhm." Natasha hummed, turning off the engine. "Can I?"

You didn't answer, just opened the door and slipped out the car. As you entered, you could practically feel Natasha's eyes burning the place. How you didn't take down any picture of yours. How her stuff was spreading across the pavement. It gave her a sense of... hope? Of course, since she was in the same situation.

"So.. are you seeing anyone?" you asked her while kicking off your heels and leaving them by the door.

"I think you know the answer for that." the redhead practically hissed, making your head snap towards her.

"But I want you to say it." you retreated. "I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me you didn't forget me. I want you to look at me in the eyes and tell me the reason of why you came to my town again and followed me when I left work. I want you to tell me the reason of why you kissed me just like we always did before."

"I didn't! I didn't forget you, Y/n!" Natasha snapped, looking away and tucking the loosen strands of hair of her braids behind her ears. "I didn't forget you and I never did. Alright? Happy now?"

"Is that so?" you laughed humorlessly, crossing your arms. "I thought you cared more about your superheroes buddies. Where are they now!?"

"I left them." Natasha replied, looking at you again with a mixture of anger and pain. "I left them and came back, to you, Y/n."

You froze at her words, swallowing your saliva. "... okay?"

"I came back here, because I wanted to at least a chance to explain myself. I wouldn't be able to live knowing that I hurt you, and that you think that I did it on purpose. So please, just give me a chance."

"...go on."

Natasha sighed in relief, exhaling the air she was holding. "I'm sure you know my story. You were the first one to know everything about it, about me. And I'm also sure you know you're the first one to ever love me. No one else ever loved me like you did."

You leaned against the kitchen counter, listening carefully to her words, ready to give her time and patience, like you usually did.

"... I didn't know what I was doing, Y/n. Every other relationship I had, ended in less than a week. Love is a weapon and it's letal for me, for people like me. I was, I am startled by all of this, by this fuzzy warm feeling that you always gave me, that you still do, in my thoughts.. the Avengers were my first family, and when I panicked, I tried to hang on to them. In order not to hurt you, and myself." she didn't even realize the tear rolling down her cheek, and shook her head. "That's it. I'm sorry for everything, but Y/n, you will always have a piece— you'll always have my whole heart in your hands. I'll get off your hair n—"

You couldn't. Not anymore. You rushed towards her and grabbed her face, cutting her off with a deep kiss. She was taking aback, but her hands traveled to your waist, pulling you flush against her, your fronts pressing. Nothing changed. Natasha pushed you backwards against your room's door, her tongue entering your mouth and dancing with yours. You could feel yourself getting lost in her, damn it, once more. It was like she had this spell on you — you were trapped, and didn't complain.

"Y/n," the russian uttered, hands slipping inside your shirt and giving your waist a squeeze. "I've got to have you again, at least for one last time. Please, just this once—"

Tired of her rambling, you smirked and grabbed her by the jacket, pulling her into a kiss again and dragging her into the room, slamming the door shut. Natasha took this as a 'yes', and her hands, under you shirt, went to unclasp your bra, making it fall to the ground and a groan of relief escape your throat. Before she could remove the rest of the fabric of your body, you stopped her, pushing her down to the bed.

"I always wanted to do that," you started to slowly, so slow that it almost tortured her take off your clothes, stripteasing for her.

"Shit, Y/n." she quickly started to get rid off her jacket, snd everything else she was wearing. You were careful not to trip on the pile of clothes on the floor, and walked over to her again, straddling her leg on the edge of the bed.

Natasha's hand grabbed your hips roughly, keeping you in place and it didn't take two seconds before you started to grind on her. "Nat," you breathed, arms going to circle her neck.

"Who else touched you like this while I was away?" she growled in your ear, pressing your body against hers. "Answer me,"

"No one," you whined, giving her a subtle shake of your head. "No one, Natty. J-just myself,"

"My poor girl," Nat began to roam her hands up your sides, her lips pressing kisses on your jawline, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there to help,"

"You're here now..!" you gasped, your movements faster, as she began to move her thigh to stimulate you more.

"And I don't plan on going away," Natasha murmured, tilting your head to look at her in the eyes. Even in your high, you could make sense of her words, and the weight they beared.

"Nat!" you moaned, closing your eyes shut. "I need... please.. I—I need you, inside me."

Natasha almost lost her mind with that, grabbing your hips and pinning you down to the bed. She reached her arm out for the drawer that she hoped your strap still was, and luckily, she was right. "I'm gonna fuck you like never before, Y/n." she attached the silicone cock to her hips with urgency, holding your hips in place as she ran the tip of it across your folds, making you whine in need.

"Don't tease me," you gently gripped her arms on your hips and looked at her with dreamy eyes. She couldn't resist — but your walls were so tight she had to put a little effort to enter you.

"Holy fuck, baby." she moved her hand to brush your hair behind your ear, giving you a little time to get used to the length. "So fucking tight for me,"

"I—" you breathed, interrupted when Nat started to slowly move in and out you, her red hair falling into your face. You moaned, putting her hair up in a makeshift ponytail and with your free hand, holding her neck. "God, I missed you,"

Natasha pounded faster in you with those words, your moans only getting louder by the second. She grabbed one of your legs and placed it over her shoulder, allowing her to hit your g-spot repeatedly. You thumb went to your mouth, wetting it and starting to rub her clit — she couldn't say she expected that, her soft moans saying everything.

"Cum with me," you breathlessly requested, eyes fluttering close. Natasha didn't have to be asked twice. Her hips slammed into yours, the wet sounds of her thrusting echoing the room. "Natty!"

You back arched, head thrown backwards as your orgasm hit you. Natasha's legs shook, her weight falling onto you and your arms immediately wrapping around her, keeping her close.

"Don't make me go away,"

"I could never."

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kmiuu1 · 18 days

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Just thinkin' bout Gojo Satoru.

Gojo x Reader, basically! :3

( Sorry about the small text thing!! I don't really use the small txt but it suits this style better, lol...! )

Satoru, the man who would gleefully get down on his knees and hands to worship you — his beloved, precious, endearing, gorgeous, and talented woman. The thing he finds best about that part is that you're his.

Satoru, who would prefer to be the little spoon as he loves your touch — the way you hold him so lovingly, how could he not be intoxicated by you and your warmth?

Satoru, thought he'd never have the time or chance to ever find the “love of his life” till he met you. Completely altering that thought, twisting and bending it a 180° degrees when you just randomly slipped into his life at one point.

Gojo Satoru.

Is the man that loves you. The man whose fallen heads over heels for you. Not the “strongest”, but Satoru — Your “baby”, your “man”.

If you were to ever say you liked “poetry”, he'd all of a sudden also be into it and conjure up the most corny yet breathtaking poems.

If you felt like homemade desserts, he'd scurry to get an apron and get to work. Hes good at everything he does, anyway... so of course anything he bakes will probably be the best thing you've ever had.

You ever accidentally blurt out a “Ugh, I kinda feel sick...”, and he'd be gone the second you finish that sentence — only to return with a plastic bag filled with prescribed medicine in SECONDS.

Of course, you'd do the same things for him even if it'd mostly end up as failures — but that's exactly why he loves you. Because you treat him as an equal, because you don't see him any less or more than the average human being. Hes just him, in your eyes.

Though, he knew the world of Jujutsu would eventually cause your seperation together. He'll be selfish, for a bit more — as long as you're the reason, as long it's you.

He loves you. You love him.

And that'll never change. Even if the world were to be thrown against the sun, even if the largest meteor ever recorded were to suddenly crash through the earth, even if a million natural disasters were to occur at once.

This may or may not be the first and last time he'll ever be so greedy for another person's love, touch, warmth, and joy. As long it's you until the end of time, his soul and heart belongs to you — and will never stop being greedy.

(*´▽｀)ﾉﾉ ( Did I cook guys?? Satoru gives me cuteness aggression sometimes, tbh. I wanna hug him so bad ugh. )

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constantmourning · 9 months

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Stress Relief

[Price/Reader/Soap/Simon]

Summary: Headcanons (almost an imagine) on sleeping with the three and how it turns out for you!

Warnings: Minors DNI! NS/FW, 18+!, M/M/M/F, Foursome, not too descriptive but still nasty, let me know if I forgot something! (haven't done this in a while)

A/N: This is my first time writing for these guys! I hope you enjoy! I'm still getting a hang of these characters but I had this idea so I went with it. I kinda fucking ran with it actually... Hope you all enjoy. Kinda wanna make it a full blown fic.

It started with Soap. Really, you didn't think it'd go much further.

You were sleeping together most every chance you got. To the point where Soap started to brag about his nights he'd spend with you to TF141.

Price began probing about who, genuinely curious. Soap would never say your name. However, you gave yourself away after a briefing and heard Price being curious about who had Soap acting that way.

"It's me." You walked up and smiled at Price. Soap was slightly shocked you had given yourself away. And was even more shocked with the next thing you said. "If you ever wanna feel just as great, give me a call." You winked at him.

Soap wasn't jealous by any means, in fact sharing you with Price was something he really didn't mind. He had not expected you to be okay with it though.

So, you started sleeping with Price.

Soap and Price were much different lovers in the best way possible. You would spend the night with Soap, him going absolutely feral over you. Then you'd spend the next night with Price. Who was not as ravenous, but just as passionate.

This went on for a couple weeks. Just you, Price, and Soap. Never had the three of you fucked at the same time. But Price had plans to change that. And Soap had something up his sleeve as well.

"Soap." Price had approached him a questioning look. "I have a question."

"Good, just who I was looking for," Soap smirked, "'cause I do too."

You were in your room when a knock came from the door. It was a free night, neither Soap nor Price were supposed to come over, so you weren't sure who the knocking could be.

When price and soap entered your room as soon as you opened your door you grew hot. "you're both here?"

"We have a proposition." Price seemed serious but Soap seemed too excited to be serious.

They both stood in front of you, so you could assume what it was. "threesome?"

Soap shook his head, and held up four fingers. Your brows knitted together and you cocked your head. Before you could say a word your door pushed open further and you turned around. Your heart jumped into your throat.

The man you had found the mysterious since coming onto base was standing there. Simon 'Ghost' Riley. You swallowed hard turning towards Price and Soap.

"Is this a joke?" No way was Simon joining in...

"No, love," Simon grunted, "it isn't. Soap 'ere won't shut up about you, so I thought I'd see what the raving was about."

Your heart is pounding in your chest. Had Soap been seeing how you were staring longingly at Simon? Yes, yes he had.

"Is this okay?" Price asked. Soap and Simon waited on your answer. When you nodded, things were most definitely getting loud.

You thought Soap and Price were great? It is Simon's mission to show you how much better he is at everything.

Soap amazing at eating you out? Simon is going to one up him. Price really good at taking his time fucking you? Simon is going to show you just how much time he can to take care of you.

They let Simon do whatever he wants, Price and Soap just watching (and jerking it). But after Simon experiences you for himself, they decide to all have a go at it.

They take turns teasing you and eating you out. Seeing just how far you could go before they get down to business.

You're sandwiched between three very strong men and its very hot.

Soap is a freak (enduring) and loooooves watching Simon's large form pressing against yours while Price takes you from behind.

The guys don't leave without their dick getting sucked.

You are almost crying (positive) after they're done with you.

Super duper big on aftercare. Simon carries you to the bathroom. Soap would literally give you a bath if you wanted/needed. Price is telling you how good you were. All of them are the best...

At the end Price is ready to ask for this more often. It's a nice stress reliever for everyone. He may even ask if the others could join, for team bonding. Only if you're comfortable of course.

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #john price #captain john price #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost smut #john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john price x reader #cod ghost #cod x reader #cod smut

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aethercores · 4 months

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✮ GREEN TINTED ;

alternatively, what are you, jealous? ft. rafayel, xavier, zayne + gn!reader/mc [non-established relationships] 1.2k+

can you really blame him? sure, rafayel’s had all the chances in the world to come to terms with your oft-busy life, but he’d brushed those away with the practiced swipe of an easy hand. you'd promised him your attention, after all, and the sea had bore witness to your vow. he finds the finer details don't really matter, even if all his whining after you've missed a few calls might lead you to think otherwise.

it's your new profile picture, though.

rafayel's usually the first to notice any changes to your icon or any new moments, and just as quick to take on your thoughts for any changes to his own. he'd never given any thought to reciprocation, to you asking him for his opinion on which picture of yours might be cutest to post but— there's some... some guy there. and you've got your hands cupped around his face while he stares at the camera like a fish out of water.

with the light press of his teeth to the insides of his cheek, rafayel tries to brush this off. whatever 'this' is. his fingers swipe over to your chat log of their own accord. he'd been meaning to message you anyway, maybe he can just remind you there's way better pictures in that photo album that he knows you keep?

keen eyes swipe over your last exchange. 'read'. like sand grains on an oil palette, he only barely feels the grit before impulse rushes over like a tidal wave—

playing kitty cards at home isn't quite the same as at meow's café, but xavier's found that there's a different feeling that comes from having you in his home like this. the cozy arrangement of blankets and little cushions across the living room floor. the warm tea on the table between you. the shared space. it's not quite the same, but he prefers it.

it's with a loss at the end of a few rounds that you smile, thoughts drifting from your defeat, stretching your arms above you before slumping back a little. "i might have to get going," you say lightly, checking the time. late afternoon. "i'm meeting up with zayne later."

his brows furrow, a delicate gesture as his eyes stray from your own across the low table, searching for recognition in memory. that you've named anyone clues him into the fact that this is not a new introduction, that you've mentioned them before. it is familiar but, among the friends and family he's heard of in passing or between exchanges, this one's a little different—

"your physician?" he asks, face tilting upwards as you rise to a stand, the blanket drapping softly back onto the floor. "dr. zayne?"

the smile on your face grows a little then, amusement playing in your eyes for reasons unknown, but xavier's always felt warmest with it in sight. even if he is a little confused.

"well. yes," you laugh a little, "but we've known each other since we were kids, so the 'dr. zayne' part is still taking some getting used to."

there's a lot of context missing here, that much he can tell. it seems you become aware of that gap too, your intentions divided between the hunter watch you check once more and the cooling tea in your cup. you smile at xavier once more, a little apologetic, and he wonders if your attentions are similarly divided.

there's not really any time for that, though, but he's left with the thought a little longer after you're gone. brushes his thumb over the lip of your cup. leaves it undisturbed.

the look zayne fixes you with is placid. that is, to the untrained eye. cool eyes draw calmly from your hunter watch, propped face down upon the table, back to your own. it's subtle, but meaningful, and he knows that you know him well enough by now to know better.

"just ignore it," you say, hand waving through the air in easy dismissal, and he pretends not to see the way your grin widens as you peer up from your card hand to the complex array of kitty cups before you both, currently at an impasse.

it'd been an odd choice, he'd noted as you both sat down in the café, to separate the device from your person. after all, zayne had seldom seen you without it ever since you'd become a hunter, an essential piece in both the professional and personal capacity. he'd know.

irony answers the call to action as the watch flashes once again — the fifth occurrence in a three minute interval — and a small vibration lightly rattles one of the closest cups. a double-pointer blue proudly boosting your score by +10.

it startles you, and you send a minutely too-prolonged glare to the offending piece as though it had purposely made to sabotage your entire game.

he smiles, lightly. "would you like to swap cards?"

you're not a good bluff. though you shake your head, another flash rattles the cup before you've had the chance to verbalise your thoughts. zayne takes the cue, and considers his own hand — catalogues his assists and future turn order — before speaking, "someone's trying hard to reach you. are you certain it's not an emergency?"

you laugh a little. "no, i'd know." the bare hint of a scoff follows, and he can tell it isn't aimed at him, but it seems mostly good-natured, a little teasing. "bad timing, but i did say i had plans today."

someone vying for your time.

it's not something he's given much consideration to before, as someone with such a stringent schedule of his own. zayne decidedly ignores the light flare in his chest at the choice you'd made and doesn't linger on a hypothetical cause. pride has an interesting way of unfurling set shoulders with just the lightest of touches.

you do end up winning the game, though he doesn't entirely feel as though he's lost. you both settle outside the café as you readjust your scarf, the breeze picking up a chill.

zayne waits, patient, turned towards you. "i still have the rest of the day off," he says. it must not say much to you, this half-sentence of his, as you blink up at him. his eyes drift upwards.

a precise, but gentle hand, carefully brushes the top of your head, cool fingers lightly touching your temple before coming away with a stray leaf. he smiles, lightly, and his gaze returns to you once more, elucidating, "is there anywhere you'd like to go?"

he feels a different sort of flare in his chest as he watches as your eyes light up, your excitement suffusing through even the layers keeping you warm.

"yeah, there's—" a subtle, but sudden, flash emits. below, from where your watch has been reunited with your wrist once more. you deflate a little, then perk up a little, made indecisive and a little troubled by some sort of unforeseen circumstance. "there's this food market, but i already promised xavier we'd go later tonight... rain check?"

zayne's eyes glance between your own for a moment before he nods, calmly assenting to the offer, and bypasses the unfamiliarity of the name and the implied familiarity of those plans. there's a light press, a pull just on the edge of taut, between his shoulder blades. he lightly shifts them, a little heavier. doesn't verbalise questions that even he leaves unacknowledged.

"of course."

#zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #zayne got the one-two this time bc the other 2 had to contend w him #c.writing

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batsycline69 · 1 year

Text

A Cure for What Ails You

Summary: You heal Link's wounds after a battle with a lynel

Pairing: botw!Link x healer!reader (gn)

Words: 1,127

Warnings: brief mentions of injuries, barely edited (I'm just vibing and waiting for midnight)

A/N: This is just a fun little oneshot I wrote up tonight because man oh man am I jazzed for TOK.

“You really didn’t have to do that, you know.”

Your voice cuts the silence between the two of you as you mend the deep scratches across his forearm. The bleeding has slowed, but you still wear the concern on your face.

Link watches you, unblinking. When you first met, you would have said his expression never changes. Now you know better. His bright eyes have a little flicker of indignation. You quirk an eyebrow up at him, a small smirk flashing across your face.

"I appreciate it, though," you continue, turning your eyes to the wound on his arm. If he's in pain, he'd never tell, but his back is stiffer than it's been around you as of late, and his silence feels more pressing.

Today hadn't marked your first life threatening experience since you began your journeys with the Princess and her knight, but you believed it to be your closest to grave harm. Link had stepped in just as you were about to be a lynel's prize.

You'd stumbled into the beast's territory foraging ingredients for tonight's dinner. Luckily, you'd found enough ingredients to whip up some healing potions and a salve as well. Your thankful that Zelda had stayed at the stable, unaware of the whole ordeal.

Link's guarded gaze is still fixed on you, like he's trying to tell you something that you can't quite make out. Though you've learned his little tells, there's still so much of himself he hides when he chooses to. You wonder what he's hiding around you.

"It would have killed you," Link says finally. His voice doesn't convey the seriousness of the sentiment.

You laugh quietly though that's not quite appropriate for the situation either. "It could have killed you, too."

"Probably not."

His bluntness catches you off guard, and you can't help but laugh. Link's expression softens just a smidge, like your laughter is the medicine he's needed for his wounds all along.

"I guess you're right," you say, a hint of startled laughter still in your voice.

Once your pleased with how clean his scrapes are, you wrap them up as you begin to get to work on the salve. He sits still, and though your back is to him, you can feel him observing, always so alert to everything going on around him.

"How did you know to come?" you ask after a moment of quiet. The question weighed on your mind. You'd gone off all on your own. When the lynel made its first yell, you were certain that you'd seen him and the Princess for the last time. And suddenly, out of nowhere, Link was there, just before you, fighting off the lynel before it even had the chance to touch you.

You hesitate before turning to face him, a sudden creeping awareness of him. Your duties were elsewhere on your travels, but within your company, you couldn't help but have...noticed Link was handsome.

It started out innocently enough, admiring the way his light caught his hair, the way their nightly campfires lit his face, how extraordinarily kind he was to his horse. Your not sure when the change happened, but the casual admiration morphed into something less easy to shake off.

You and Link spent very little time alone because he was often fulfilling his duties of protecting Zelda. It'd been easier to keep the feelings at bay then. But Zelda's absence was incredibly noted. Now it was just the two of you, his eyes following you as you prepared a salve for him.

When you finally find the courage, you turn to face him, your hands over a small slimy mixture in a small glass. He sat on a stump, one leg straight out, the elbow of his injured arm resting upon the knee of his bent leg.

Sure enough, he's watching you.

"Thought there might be monsters," he replies.

You breathe a laugh, though the breath is hard to find quite suddenly. You bend down and remove the cloth wrapped around his forearm, your fingers barely grazing his skin as you apply the salve. You tell yourself its so you won't hurt him, but you know perfectly well that as soon as the salve is on, the pain will disappear entirely.

You fall back into silence as you make quick work of healing him. One hand lightly grips his forearm to keep him steady, the other coating his wounds. His skin is warm underneath your fingertips. You try to push the thought back with all your might, though you find it hard to resist.

Link ever so softly sighs in relief. You feel the tension in his muscles ease as the pain fades away and smile gently.

"Is that better?" you ask. Your grip on his arm lingers.

He nods. For a moment, you think he'll pull his arm away, but he doesn't. His bright eyes are on you, and you can't look away. You're caught in his gaze, stuck on the spot.

"We..." Your voice is thin. You clear your throat and finally tear your eyes from his. "We should get back. We don't want the Princess to worry."

You rise to your feet, beginning to walk away, but something holds you back. A glance down shows Link's hand wrapped gently around your wrist.

"Wait," he says. And for the first time, you can so clearly read everything he's trying to tell you without saying more than a single word. His eyes are so open, as if he's giving you permission to understand him, know what goes on in his mind.

Your breath catches in your throat. There's longing, fear, concern all swimming in his eyes. He's letting you see it.

Link rises to his feet, only a few inches from where you stand. He smells like leather and warm days, fresh breeze and soil.

"It could have killed you," Link says again. This time, his voice is heavy, thick with everything he's feeling. Everything he's showing to you openly, or at least as openly as he can.

You nod, temporarily at a loss for words until you're able to choke out, "Yes."

"I did have to do that," he says firmly. For a moment, it takes a moment for you to understand what he's trying to say. When you do, your lips part to speak, but he frees your wrist and pulls his sleeve down over his healed wound. "We should get back."

The sky has turned vibrant orange. Night soon follows, and you know just as well as Link what you could meet in the night.

"Right," you say softly, and note that for once, he's the one with much more to say. If you weren't still so stunned, you'd think it was funny.

As you walk back to the stable, Link walks behind you, just like he does with Zelda.

#botw link x reader #link x reader #botw #totk #x reader fic #botw link x reader fic #idk i haven't ever posted my writing on tumblr before except for that one poetry blog i had several blogs ago #link has just achieved full blown blorbo status and i needed to deal with it somehow

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wileys-russo · 6 months

Text

under the mistletoe II s.blackstenius x reader

merry christmas eve besties under the mistletoe II s.blackstenius x reader

"oh they decorated!" you noticed right away as you wandered into colney for training, amanda by your side having driven you as the two of you often took turns since you lived in the same complex.

"ha! that is going to be fun." amanda nudged you and pointed to the random tufts of fake mistletoe hung up around as you both made your way to the changing rooms, music already pumping away in the distance.

"oh if you wanted a kiss why didn't you say!" you teased, kissing her cheek as she pushed you away with a roll of her eyes, having adopted an older sister role of sorts since you'd both moved to arsenal this season.

of course you were already welcomed in by your fellow national team mates, grateful to know some of the team on your first day as lina and stina both wasted no time showing the two of you around and making sure you settled in.

stina in particular you'd always been quite fond of, the two of you often spending time together on national duty you were hopeful that it might continue to build into something a little more than friends now you both played for arsenal.

you'd liked her for a couple of years now, more of a silly little crush than anything else that you always assumed was one way. well you did, until the world cup.

you were all out as a team celebrating your bronze medals when stina had pulled you away from the group claiming she didn't want to go to the toilet by herself, only within seconds of the two of you having a moment alone her lips were on yours.

the kiss was messy to say the least with both your bloodstreams pumped full of alcohol, though you never got a chance to see where it might have lead as a very drunk frido stumbled around the corner and crashed into the two of you, stina practically running away the moment she did leaving you to look after frido and with a head a mess of thoughts.

you'd waited to see if she'd bring up the kiss, she never did.

afraid she was just too drunk to remember or worse she'd purposefully chosen to forget, you kept it to yourself and remained grateful it didn't change how the blonde acted around you.

especially now at the same club you found yourself spending even more time with her, though rarely one on one it was generally in a group setting she still gravitated to your side, pairing up for drills and sitting beside you most chances she could.

if you didn't know any better you'd swear sometimes she flirted with you, showering you with praise and compliments followed by an awkward little smile or hug before she'd race away and leave you wondering if maybe she did remember the kiss.

then reality would sink in and you'd remind yourself that this was just how stina was, how she'd always be and that just friends seemed to be your destined fate together.

hearing your phone start to ring you nodded for amanda to enter the changing room as you speed walked a little more out of earshot of the music pumping from inside as you clicked accept and moved it to your ear.

"Vännen!" you smiled hearing the familiar accent ring through the phone. "hello frido." you chuckled, dumping your bag by your feet and leaning your back against the wall behind you.

"hello frido. god you sound so english!" the woman gagged making you laugh and curse at her in swedish. "sorry should i have said it in spanish? hola puta!" you teased as she clicked her tongue at you and you could only imagine the way her eyes would be rolling on the other end of the line.

"i'll be having alexia speak with laia if she's going to continue to teach you only bad words in spanish!" the blonde warned jokingly though you really wouldn't put it past her to do so. "how is the knee Gumman?" you smirked as she swore at you with a huff for the nickname meaning old woman.

"still attached to my leg, we are getting there. very slowly!" frido sighed as you frowned sympathetically, having been looked after by the older girl ever since you'd joined the national team years ago you cared for her very deeply so to know she was unable to play at the moment was painful.

"how is your crush on stina?" your sympathy melted away at her teasing tone. "she is so confusing, it kills me!" you groaned, looking around to make sure you were alone as frido prompted you to elaborate.

"when it is just us she is so sweet. always getting things for me like my food or my bag or my boots, pulling me to sit with her on the bus, always complimenting me and hugging me and i think she might like me back. but she is that way with everyone!" you sighed, rubbing your spare hand against your face and noticing a few of the girls start to file out of the change rooms for training.

"but she has not kissed everyone Vännen. tell her how you feel!" frido reminded softly as you sighed. "she does not remember that, or if she does then she has chosen to forget, and i do not wish to make a fool of myself by bringing it up or ruining things. i have to go we have training, i will call you tonight?" you offered, wanting a better chance to catch up with the girl who agreed before you ended the call.

now one of the last to get ready you hurried down the hall and into the change rooms, dropping down by your cubby and hurrying to change into your boots, stripping off your hoodie and tossing it behind you.

"did someone sleep in this morning?" you glanced up to meet bright blue eyes and an amused smile. "no i was speaking with frido." you returned her smile, lacing up your boots and rummaging around for your drink bottle with a frown.

though before you could worry any further it appeared in front of you in stina's tight hold, you taking it from her and standing with a grateful smile. "tack själv!" you sighed and craned your head up to kiss her cheek, walking out of the change rooms and missing the way the blondes whole face lit up bright red and she hurried after you.

"the decorations are nice." you smiled as she caught up with you, the clacking of your boots loud against the polished floors as stina hummed in agreement.

the morning passed by with nothing out of the ordinary, everyone pausing just before lunch to watch laura do her first run on the grass, both you and stina quite close with the austrian defender cheered loudly and proudly.

breaking for lunch everyone returned to the change rooms to swap shoes, the afternoons media session studying the weekends opponents not requiring cleats.

"mistletoe Snygging!" you barely had time to look up before katie had almost tackled you to the bench, faux bunch in her hand and held over your head as she pressed a wet kiss to your cheek and you pushed her off wiping your cheek.

"who taught you Snygging?" you laughed as she grinned and nodded to lina before racing off to find another victim. "i never understand that." you looked to your right to meet stinas frown. "what?" you questioned, slipping your hoodie back on over your training top.

"mistletoe, the kissing. seems silly!" stina shrugged as you only hummed. "i think its sweet, maybe a little silly but still fun." you smiled softly, looking up as vic and kyra raced past, vic having 'accidentally' dumped her water on the australians head.

"ah! stop that, go change you are all wet and its freezing." you warned the younger girls who ignored you with a shrug, kyra aiming her bottle at vic who ducked at the last minute causing kyra to spray her bottle all over you.

"sorry!" the australian apologized with a wince as steph grabbed her and you sighed waving her away. "here." you felt a tap to your thigh and looked up to see stina offering you her own hoodie which you gratefully accepted after peeling off your own soaked one.

you tried not to dwell on how it felt to be wrapped up in the large bundle of material, drowned in the scent of her shampoo and the woody tones of her perfume which tickled at your nose and allowed your body to settle.

"won't you be cold?" you questioned as she changed out of her long sleeve into her short. "some of us have real scandinavian blood in us, don't feel the cold." she teased as you pinched her and she laughed, offering you a hand up.

you expected her to let go of you once she pulled you to your feet but to your surprise her arm settled over your shoulders pulling you into her side as she walked the two of you toward the cafeteria.

"are you going home for christmas?" the blonde asked curiously as you gave her a strange look. "we booked the same flight back!" you laughed, all four of you travelling home together at the end of the season having booked the tickets only a couple of weeks ago.

"no! i mean to your families house." stina corrected, cheeks tinted slightly pink as she handed you a tray. "oh! no, my sister is hosting everyone this year." the two of you conversed about your plans, laura joining you as you both pulled her into tight hugs of congratulation and stinas arm left your shoulder.

filing into the media room after lunch it wasn't anything new when stina tugged on the back of your her hoodie to signal you sit beside her, your head falling to her shoulder as you chatted to alessia in front of you.

the room quietened as jonas and the coaching staff arrived, everyone settling down and paying attention throughout the entire presentation.

when the lights flicked back on a couple of hours later the room winced and chatter resumed as the coaching staff left and everyone started to stretch out tired limbs and do the same.

wandering back toward the change rooms to grab bags and head off for the day the mood was upbeat, everyone tired but excited to be done for the day, a group invitation of going out for dinner thrown about as some accepted but most declined with the weather outside worsening.

"ah ah ah!" you jolted to a stop as a hand planted on your chest stopping you in your tracks as stina ran into the back of you and apologised, katie blocking the two of you from entering.

"mistletoe!" katie smirked nodding upwards as you rolled your eyes. "didn't see you harassing anyone else for a kiss mccabe!" you chuckled, trying to go around her as she blocked the doorway again.

"not me. the two of you, go on! its bad luck not to have a little smooch." katie grinned wolfishly wiggling her eyebrows, waving off a few of the girls who yelled out from inside for her to leave you both alone.

"katie come on, move." you groaned trying to shoulder her out of the way without succeeding in moving her an inch. "stina! don't want bad luck do ya?" the irishwoman grinned over your head to the taller girl behind you who up until now hadn't said a word.

"i do not care and i do not want to kiss her katie, move." her words were blunt and hurt you much more than you cared to admit, katie not missing the way your face changed to convey so and quickly moving out of your way as you hurried inside.

"hey Älskling-" you heard amanda sit beside you and place a hand on your shoulder with a concerned look as you shook your head and pushed away her hand. "can we go please?" you murmured quietly grabbing your bag, cheeks hot with humiliation as the older girl nodded.

pulling off stina's hoodie you shoved it into her hands without a word or a look in her direction and pushed past her, ignoring her calls after you as you followed amanda out to the car, hearing kim and leah rip into katie for embarrassing the two of you and trying not to pretend you cared.

"vänta en minut!" footsteps pounded after you as amanda turned and spotted stina hurrying after the two of you, squeezing your arm and saying she'd wait for you in the car, leaving before you could even say another word.

with a sigh you stopped, allowing stina to catch up to you and find her breath for a moment, nodding for you to follow her into one of the meeting rooms for a little privacy.

"i'm so sorry, it came out wrong." she rushed out quickly, hands playing with the strap of her gym bag as you shrugged. "its fine stina, no need to be sorry." you forced a smile and turned to leave as she moved to grab your wrist.

"please, hear me out." she pleaded as you gave her an odd look but nodded, gesturing for her to continue as she took a deep breath. "okay. i just-" she paused, clearly struggling with how to continue.

"at the world cup, there was one night after the win when we went out partying. we were very drunk and you looked so happy and beautiful and...free." your cheeks blushed a little at her words not expecting them.

"i saw you dancing with the others and not with me so i took your hand and told you to come to the toilet with me-" your chest tightened at her words, not daring to believe you were really hearing this.

"-but really i just wanted to kiss you, with the alcohol in me i felt like i had all the courage i never had before." your breath stopped entirely at that.

"and so we..." she trailed off rubbing the back of her neck. "-we kissed." you finished for her as she gave you an incredulous look of surprise. "you remember?" you nodded at that and her face seemed to fall.

"this was a mistake." she shook her head and turned to leave as now you took hold of her wrist and pulled her back. "no, please finish." you asked, voice barely above a whisper as she hesitated but eventually nodded.

"-we kissed. then frido interrupted and you looked embarrassed so i left, then we never spoke about it so i assumed you were just too drunk and thats why you kissed me back." she admitted quietly and you couldn't help but let out a peal of laughter.

"what is funny?" "this. you, me, all of it." "i knew this was a mistake."

"no no! i remember the kiss yes, but when you left and never mentioned it i thought you were too drunk to remember or that you'd maybe chosen to forget." you bit your lip as stinas eyes widened.

"i like you but i didn't think you liked me back." stina blurted out, tips of her ears burning bright red as your eyes bugged. "i like you too, i didn't think you liked me back!"

"so we-" "-we both remember." "but we-" "-we both didn't bring it up." "and we-" "-we both like each other."

at that a silence built between you, both searching one anothers faces for any signs of insincerity in your confessions. suddenly stina let out a groan, cheeks red with embarrassment as she buried her face in her hands.

"we are very stupid." "so stupid."

at that you both shared a smile which built into a laugh, the taller girl pulling you into a hug as you melted into her, the air around you starting to crackle with an odd feeling as your laughter died down and you craned your head back to look up at her.

"hey stina." you spoke as she raised an eyebrow. "mistletoe." you pointed above her head with a small smile as her eyes flicked upward and she let out a laugh. "katie said it is bad luck, right?"

at that she ducked her head to press her lips to yours, your mouths slotting against one anothers perfectly as you relaxed into her, balling her top in your fists as your head spun like a top.

this kiss was very different to the last. her lips were soft and welcoming, and she kissed you so tenderly as if you might break if she wasn't careful, one hand cupping your cheek to deepen it slightly, testing the waters as her tongue swiped against your bottom lip and you parted them slightly to allow her tongue to slip into your mouth.

pulling away after a few beats of silence passed the two of you blushed and refused to look at one another, though still pressed together there was very little other options.

"oh you are joking!" you leapt away from one another and looked to the door where amanda was throwing her head back with a groan, the two of you sending her strange looks as she clicked her tongue.

"you both could not have waited till next season? i owe frido money now!"

#woso #stina blackstenius x reader #stina blackstenius #woso fanfics #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso community

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girlgenius1111 · 5 months

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did you think i wouldn't come?

viv x lioness reader post olympic qualification. angst + fluff

-----

Viv head towards baggage claim, not really sure what she would find waiting for her there. She'd offered to uber, but you'd insisted that you pick her up.

She hadn't had a chance to talk to you on the phone yet, and she wasn't sure she really believed that you weren't mad at her. Your texts seemed normal, but she couldn't get rid of the nagging feeling deep in her gut that you were mad.

Even though you promised her before you left that you wouldn't be, and she did the same. She knows that she wouldn't have been mad at you, had the tables been turned. Frustrated with the results, sure, but not mad at you.

She would understand, though, if you were upset. You hated losing. Kind of expected from a professional athlete, but Viv knew how hard the team, how hard you, had been working, and not making it to the olympics would be crushing for you.

So, she'd texted before her flight, offering to get a ride from the airport, and even stay at Katie's for a few days, if you needed space. You'd shaken off her offer, telling her not to be silly. Despite this, as she neared baggage claim, as she neared you, she couldn't help the growing anxiety inside her.

She'd barely gotten a glimpse of you before you were tackling her in a hug. She caught you in her arms easily, although quite surprised.

"Vivianne," you sung in her ear, voice sweet and upbeat. "Congratulations," you told her. You felt her stiffen at her words, and pulled back from the hug. "What's wrong?"

Viv couldn't find a hint of anger, frustration, any negative emotion on your face. You only looked at her with love, and a little bit of concern. Snapping out of her surprise, she responded.

"Nothing! How are you?" she questioned, changing the subject.

"I"m good, I missed you," you said, pulling her back in for another hug. She held you tightly. This was better than she expected, so much better. She'd missed you too, a lot, but she hadn't allowed herself to hope to see you much in the first few days back.

"How is your knee?" you ask, after pulling back from the hug once again.

"It's okay. A little sore, but definitely better," Viv tells you, trying to match your unbothered energy, even though she's completely confused, completely stunned at your lack of anger with her. You nod, taking her bag from her and ushering her out to the car. You continue to ask her questions, talking easily with her as you begin the drive home.

Vivianne is hesitant, waiting for the other shoe to drop. You notice her nervous demeanor, but you know Viv well. Pushing her to talk to you when she's upset about something never works, she had to come to you. So, you let the small talk fade out, as your girlfriend's mind is clearly elsewhere.

The Dutch woman doesn't even notice when you pull into the driveway, completely lost in her thoughts. You nudge her, sending a soft smile her way. She finds herself inside, sitting on the couch, her bags left without a thought at the door. Her nerves and her guilt had only increased since arriving back home, and she was completely unresponsive to you when you join her.

She knows you're waiting for her to talk, watching her face carefully for any sign as to what's going on. Viv doesn't really know where to start, though, and it seems you'll have to prompt her if you want her to talk sometime in the next 2 hours.

"Vivianne, is everything okay?" you ask finally, well aware that something is not okay.

"I don't understand," the Dutch woman responds quietly, staring hard at the couch.

"Don't understand what, my love?" You hoped this would get you to the bottom of whatever had clearly been bothering her since arriving home.

"Why aren't you mad at me?" She asked. Your brow furrowed.

"Why would I be?"

"We knocked you guys out. You aren't going to the olympics, and we are."

"Why would I be mad at you about that?" Viv didn't really seem to have a response to that. Sensing her inability to explain, you continued. "You guys worked really hard. You played a good game, and you scored the right amount of goals to beat us out. Obviously, it sucks, but really, Viv, why would I be mad at you about that?"

Viv elects to ignore your last question, opting instead to focus on the first part. "You all worked hard, too. You deserved it just as much as we did."

"Yeah, that's true. It didn't work out for us though." You respond. Viv looks at you incredulously, unsure how you could be so cavalier about something so important.

"I'm disappointed, yeah. And I was upset, at first, because it was so close, we were so close. But I was never upset with you. The Dutch team as a whole? Sure." Not even a flicker of a smile at your attempt at a joke.

"You're really not mad at me?" she asks, staring hard at you, as if searching for any hint that you were lying.

"No, I'm really not. I'll never be mad at you for succeeding, even if it means that I didn't get to," You tell her, hell bent on convincing her. She still looked so unsure, and you brought your hands up to cup her cheeks gently.

"Vivianne, I'm not mad at you, stop looking so serious. Everything is fine, you don't need to worry. I still love you, even though you beat me," you're half joking again, but you don't miss the way relief flickers across your girlfriend's face. It's like a stab to the chest, realizing she was worried that you wouldn't love her anymore because of this.

"Baby, football is football. It's our job, and it's important to me, but it's not more important than you. Nothing is. Our relationship is completely separate from what happens on the pitch, and I would never let how your team performs change how I feel about you. You'd have to do a lot more than knock me out of the Olympics to get me to stop loving you," you tell her, putting as much conviction as you can behind your words.

Vivianne has the decency to look somewhat embarrassed, especially when you put it like that. She can't help but believe you, honestly, not when you're looking at her the same way you always have.

"Okay?" you ask, when she still hasn't said anything.

"Okay," she says softly, leaning over to rest against you. You kiss the top of her head, wrapping her up in your arms. "I love you too, by the way,' she tells you, feeling your chest vibrate under her with a laugh.

"Good," you tell her, satisfied that she believes you now. "What do you want for dinner? I was thinking italian."

"Eh. I kind of wanted chinese," she tells you, relaxing into your body at the change in conversation.

"Well, you get to go to the olympics, so I think I should get to pick dinner," you say, smirking down at her.

"Y/n!" she complains, not finding your joke funny at all. Alright, it was a little funny. But only because it was you. Anyone else making that joke would have just annoyed her. You didn't seem to be able to do that, though, no matter what you did. Apparently, you felt the same way.

-----

#woso #woso imagine #woso x reader #vivianne miedema #vivianne miedema x reader

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roosterforme · 6 months

Text

How You Play the Game Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was miserable without you, and the pain just wasn't lessening even though you left him weeks ago. He needed to find a way to move on, because you didn't want him, and you weren't coming back. But he should have known there was no substitute for the best thing he'd ever had.

Warnings: Swears, broken heart, angst, consensual sex, sex with a condom while intoxicated (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Weeks later...

As you flew to Vancouver from Detroit, you thought about that six hour flight to Boston where you hadn't stopped crying for a single minute. You thought about leaving San Diego and how it broke your heart to move on to the next city and the next assignment. At least this time you had a window seat instead of the middle seat in the last row. And this time you weren't continually wiping your tears on Bradley's Padres jersey.

You had his jersey on again today, but this time you felt calm as you reached into your bag to take out your computer and read over the research you'd outlined about the Vancouver Canucks. Your eyes caught on the blue golf ball, and after a second of hesitation, you reached for that instead.

You'd taken it everywhere with you. It joined you in every hotel room, on every flight and in every rental car. You had it with you in your tote bag when you were in Boston about a month ago working on the exclusive with the Bruins' coaching staff. You were carrying it when you bumped into Abigail Archer for the first time in person.

With your article completely forgotten now, you dug your phone out of your pocket. It was in airplane mode, but you took a deep breath and unlocked it. You had to scroll a bit to get to the text thread with Bradley, and then you tapped his name and you almost let the tears rise to the surface. You held them back as you read the series of sporadic messages he'd sent you since early November.

I miss you.

Did you make it to Boston safely?

Ace, please call me back. I miss you so much.

I have this whole weekend off, and I can't help but think it would be easy for me to fly to wherever you are. If you would want that.

I still miss you.

I hope you're doing well.

You hadn't responded to a single one of them. And you never called him back either. But sometimes, when you were in a hotel room in a city that you couldn't even identify without looking at your calendar app, you'd get lonely enough to listen to his voicemail message. See ya, Ace.

It took until you met Bradley Bradshaw for you to really understand just how lonely you were. Going back to your apartment in New York City didn't feel like going home. There was nothing there that made you smile. There were no baseball cards or too small Angels tee shirts. There was no Bradley making sure you were taking a break when you needed one.

And he was part of the reason why you let yourself start to be convinced that you could have more out of your career. Maybe he was right. Somebody else might have something better to offer than Greg or the New York Times. When you talked to Abigail and started to test the waters, it wasn't as terrifying as you thought it would be. Making some calls to see what else was out there ended up validating one fact for you: Bradley was right, your writing was in high demand.

But you had to complete your contract with Greg before you could do much else. And that included Detroit and Vancouver. But you hoped after this, your work-life balance might improve. If you decided to take this information back to Bradley, you hoped he would listen to you. Maybe he would even see what you wrote about your career change in your Detroit Red Wings article. If he was even still reading your articles. There was a chance he might still miss you now, and maybe he'd understand that you needed to see the bigger picture for yourself first.

Before you left him alone in his bed, he told you that you knew where to find him. He made you feel like it was still okay to go there.

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

Bradley walked past his coffee table dressed in his flight suit with his travel mug of coffee in his hand. He paused at the front door and looked back at the mess he still couldn't bring himself to clean up. You left him weeks ago, damn near a month ago, but he just couldn't bring himself to clean up all of the fucking baseball cards.

He closed his eyes and took a calming breath. He was being ridiculous. He was never ridiculous before he met you, so you must have made him this way. Every time he tried to clean them up and put them back out in his garage, his hands faltered and he left the cards out on the table. It was like some sort of sick reminder that you'd really been here with him. It was a way to convince himself he didn't imagine up the perfect woman in his mind and then have to live through the aftermath of watching her leave.

He tightened his fingers around his mug and rubbed the heel of his other hand against his eyes. Then he took his phone out. He knew he shouldn't do it since you never answered his other messages before, but he texted you anyway.

I hope you're doing well.

When he re-read what he'd sent, he started to panic. It sort of sounded like he meant it with an air of finality. The last thing he wanted was for you to think that he didn't want to hear from you, because it was quite the opposite. There were times when he felt so lonely, he'd have done anything for you to write to him or call him back.

He swore he could still smell you in his house, and right now it felt a little too much like you were there. He wrenched his front door open and slammed it closed behind him, breathing in the crisp December morning air. He had to start making some changes, and he needed to do it this week. You weren't going to respond to him. After four weeks he should accept that as a fact and stop bugging you.

He'd been skipping Hard Deck nights and leaving the locker room after work without really talking to anyone. Nat knew why he was miserable, but even she seemed surprised it had gone on for this long.

A few days ago, she said, "You've never behaved like this over a woman before. This has all just been very surprising, and I don't know how to help you."

Bradley had shrugged and laughed sarcastically. "Well, I fell in love with her. First time for everything, right? I'll know better for next time."

And that was the truly fucked up part. He had fallen in love with you over the course of ten days. As he drove to work, he thought about your face and your voice. He knew exactly how many miles he put on his Bronco driving back and forth to see you at the games in Anaheim. He knew exactly how much money he spent on all the tickets. He knew how badly it hurt right now to be without you. And he knew he'd repeat everything all over again if he could see you for five minutes.

Just like every other day, he had to collect himself before he could head inside to the locker room. There was no getting his time with you back. There was no second chance. There was no communication. He needed to stop. He took off his aviators that you'd liked so much and set them in his cup holder. When he checked the time on his phone, he had a notification that a new article from you had been posted eight minutes ago. It was like this every day. He'd wait to see each morning if you'd written anything, and then after it was posted, he'd read it at least three times.

Your final World Series article was the worst one. It was released two days after you left. He must have read it a hundred times. He'd even take a screenshot of the short passage he was certain was about him.

This World Series was exciting and dynamic for so many reasons. We witnessed some of the best major league pitching in the last decade, and there were more stolen bases than the past three finals combined. Professionally, I may never witness anything like this again. And I can even tell you that on a personal level, I was profoundly changed for the better by everything I allowed myself to experience and enjoy between San Diego and Anaheim over the course of the series.

Bradley looked at his phone screen now. It had to stop. He desperately wanted to read your article on the Detroit Red Wings, but he needed to make this feeling stop. It was like he was constantly in pain every time he thought about you or even simply read your name on his phone. Your written words were never going to help him move on, so he needed to do something about it right now while he felt like he could.

He deleted the New York Times app. He thought about deleting your number as well, but he needed to save some of his strength to get through his workday. So he just tucked his phone in his pocket and climbed out of the Bronco.

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

When Bradley walked into the Hard Deck on Friday night after work, he felt defeated and exhausted. He managed to delete the app you wrote for, but he still couldn't bring himself to delete your phone number. Moving on was a necessity right now. He didn't even know why he bothered to come to the bar, but staying home and looking at baseball cards on his coffee table didn't seem to be helping him.

"You're here!" Nat called out as soon as he walked inside. The bar was decorated for Christmas. Was it that close to the holidays? He'd completely lost track of the weeks, but at the same time, he knew exactly how many days it had been since he'd seen you. His mind was too aware of that number, and it tacked a new one on each day.

"Hey," Bradley managed to grunt when his friend came over to him and wrapped him up in a hug. The Christmas tree and the strings of lights blurred, and he had to close his eyes. He was missing the feel of your arms around him and the way you smelled. None of this was Nat's fault or anyone's fault really. Bradley didn't even blame you. He couldn't. You and he were nothing.

"Let me get you a drink," Nat whispered, and she took him by the hand. He recognized the upbeat Christmas song, and he saw the guys waving from the pool table. But when he turned to face the bar, Shannon was right there with her usual smile and a pint glass in her hand. He didn't know why he wasn't expecting her. The last time he saw her was when he brought you here, and he'd give anything to go back to that night.

Bradley just shook his head. "Something stronger. Please." Shannon raised one eyebrow at him and set the pint glass down in favor of a whiskey tumbler and a bottle of Johnnie Walker. "Yeah."

"Haven't seen you around in a few weeks," she said, watching the amber liquid slosh neatly up the side of the glass as she poured. "Kinda missed you." She met his eyes as she pushed the glass across the bar. "You look so sad."

He held eye contact with her, trying his best to push the intrusive thoughts away. "Maybe I'll be around more now," he muttered, downing the whole drink in one go and setting the glass down again.

Shannon was familiar to him. Comfortable. He'd been messing around with women for damn near two decades without any deep feelings. You were really his first foray into something... more. But you were gone. You didn't want to talk to him. You weren't coming back.

She refilled his glass and said, "Take this one a little slower, Bradley." He nodded before downing it just like the first one, and she kind of smirked and shook her head. "You'll pay for this in the morning."

He laughed sardonically. "That's the idea." He left the empty glass on the bar with a little nod indicating that he would be back. He desperately needed to clear his head, but he'd been trying everything for weeks. Taking a walk outside, having a cold shower, going for a drive. Nothing fucking helped.

He needed to forget the feel of your body and the sound of your voice. So he drank an extravagant amount of Johnnie Walker on Nat's tab, and he started to feel looser. He laughed at her when she asked how many he had so far.

"Don't worry. I'll pay you back," he rasped with a smile that he knew could charm every woman except for his best friend.

She just rubbed her hand up and down his arm and said, "I hope you know what you're doing. Let me know when you want me to get you home."

He kissed her cheek. "I'm fine, Nat. Just fine." He finished his tumbler and tried to remember if that was his fifth or his sixth, but it didn't matter. He was warm now, and his lips were a little numb. This was exactly what he needed tonight. After he shot a round of pool and lost, he flipped through the jukebox, but it was all bullshit Christmas music. He wasn't in the mood. He thought about playing the piano, but there was an empty stool at the bar now, so he headed in that direction.

"One more?" Bradley asked Shannon as he sat, and she reached out to touch his cheek.

"You sure you really need one?"

"Yep," he said, swallowing against the lump in his throat as she swam out of focus for a split second. "Just one more. It'll make it easier."

She turned away from him to get one more clean glass. Then she filled it for him. "Thanks, Shannon," he muttered when she set it down in front of him. He was leaning on his propped up hand, and he knew she was kind of pretty. But he knew you were prettier and funnier and smarter.

"You can't have what you want," he mumbled to himself after Shannon walked away. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it and just looked at the screen. Delete it. He had to. He opened his contacts, and there you were right at the fucking top.

Ace

You'd always be at the top, wouldn't you?

Instead of deleting your number, he sent you a text before he could reconsider.

Ace, I fell in love with you.

Fuck. Fuck! You didn't want him. And there was no way to take that message back now. He closed his eyes and shook his head, because he couldn't tell if he was about to cry or laugh. He was fucking miserable. Truly, he'd never experienced this before, and it hurt like hell. His thumb hovered over your name once again, but he couldn't delete it. He drank the whiskey and tried again. But still nothing.

He watched Shannon move around behind the bar. She wasn't you. She wasn't what he wanted, but when she announced that it was last call, she made her way over to him.

"But no more for you," she teased, reaching to take his glass away. But he had her wrist in his hand before he registered what he was doing. She looked a little surprised. The tears were in his eyes again, but maybe it wasn't so obvious to her. He couldn't say the words. He needed her to be the one. When he licked his lips, she leaned a little closer. "I'm done in fifteen. Are you interested? Or are you too drunk?"

He took a deep breath as his eyes closed. He needed to try to move on. The pain needed to stop, or else he didn't know what he would do. Right now he was numb enough. It was now or never. "I'm interested."

Bradley was very aware of what he was doing, it just vaguely seemed like someone else was doing it. He gave his keys to Shannon once they were outside. "Remember where I live?" he asked, walking toward the Bronco.

"Of course I do," she whispered.

He found himself with his back against the passenger side door with Shannon's lips on his. It felt fine. Would probably feel better the more he got used to it again. He could do this. He kissed her back and told her to drive, because he knew he shouldn't.

She drove and parked and took him by the hand, leading him inside his house. As soon as he saw the baseball cards, he wanted to upend his coffee table. He wanted to do this and get it over with and go to sleep for a week. And if he didn't feel better after that, then he didn't know what he was going to do.

When Shannon tried to turn on his bedroom light, he took her hand in his and guided it away from the switch. "Too bright," he mumbled, and she started to get undressed. He stumbled across the hallway to the bathroom and closed the door. When he looked in the mirror, he'd never seen anything quite so pitiful. He splashed a little water on his face, but it just made his flushed cheeks stand out more. He dug around under the sink for some condoms he thought he still had. When his hand closed around the box, he sat back against the wall and cried.

He had no idea how long he was in the bathroom. He took his shirt off and used it to wipe his face. You didn't want him. He went back to his bedroom where Shannon was naked on his bed, her skin glowing in the light filtering in from the bathroom where he forgot to flip the switch off.

"Fuck," he grunted, running his fingers through his hair. But she must have taken that as a sign that he was ready to go. He wasn't, but he told himself he was. She touched him, and he let her. She kissed him some more, and he let her do that, too. He reciprocated. He knew to do that much. But it didn't feel like anything. He fucked her, but it just wasn't right. And then he fell asleep with a throbbing head and an aching heart and the wrong woman next to him.

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

It had been years since Bradley had a hangover. When he opened his eyes, his left arm was hanging off of his bed, and his face was halfway smashed in his pillow. His mouth was completely dry, and he tried to press his lips together and swallow. He had no idea how he got home or what time it was.

"Oh, shit," he groaned. He texted you last night. When he was sitting at the bar. He was pretty sure he told you he fell in love with you. He knew you wouldn't write back. You must have blocked his number by now. He was probably texting nobody by this point, but it still hurt like hell that you didn't want him the way he wanted you.

Then he remembered what he did after he texted you, and the bile rose in his throat so quickly. Shannon was right there next to him when he turned his head. He let her sleep over. He never let her sleep over before this. She was in your spot. He needed her gone immediately.

"Hey," he grunted, his throat like sandpaper. "Shannon. You need to leave."

She rolled over and glared at him. "Still tired," she whispered, completely naked in his bed.

"Please," he begged. He was so fucking stupid, it was incredible. Now he was miserable and hungover and angry with himself. "I need you to."

She sighed and stretched, and Bradley made a beeline for the bathroom, stepping on a condom wrapper on the way. At least there was that. Then he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He sat back against the wall for a few minutes, afraid there might be more he had to throw up. He knew his head was throbbing due more to the fact that he regretted everything he did last night with Shannon than him drinking most of a bottle of whiskey.

There was tapping on the door. "If you want me to leave, I need to use the bathroom."

"Give me a minute," he groaned, standing up and looking at himself in the mirror. There were dark circles under his eyes and he looked pale. When he brushed his teeth, he felt the tears burning behind his eyes once again. Was this ever going to stop? It had been more than a month.

Bradley rinsed his mouth and opened the door, barely looking at Shannon as she walked past him, still naked. He went back into his bedroom for a pair of clean underwear and some gym shorts and fought the urge to put all of his bedding in the washing machine. He couldn't even be in here right now, so he left for the kitchen. And he passed the fucking baseball cards again. He would have to throw them away or ask someone to come get them, because he needed them gone as much as he needed Shannon to leave.

As he turned on his coffee maker, he heard someone knocking on his front door. He already wanted this fucking day to end. He tried not to look at the baseball cards as he passed the table and wrenched his front door open, and then his jaw dropped in surprise.

"Bradley. Hi."

He braced his hand against the door frame as he looked at you standing there on his tiny porch. You were wearing his Padres jersey. He had to be hallucinating. This had to be a dream. You were here.

"Ace."

He watched your face light up at the nickname, and you laughed softly as you examined him like you'd been dying to see him. He gripped the doorframe a little harder as he reached his other hand out to cup your chin and feel your silky skin.

"Holy shit, Baby. What are you doing here?" His heart was pounding, but he felt somehow normal again. Just like he had five weeks ago before you left him in a state of panic.

"I came to see you." He stroked his thumb along your lip, but you didn't back away. In fact you took a tiny step closer as you added, "I have to be up in Anaheim tomorrow afternoon for some Ducks interviews, but I wanted to see you first. I thought we could talk."

Your eyes were open and earnest, and Bradley felt weak as he looked at his jersey on you. He let his hand drop away from your face, because he had no idea what to say to you right now. He had convinced himself he'd never see you again. "Did you get my texts? Or did you block my number?"

You pressed your lips together and then whispered, "I got your texts. And I've listened to your voicemail a lot. I've missed you." Bradley watched you smile tentatively and give him a little shrug.

"You missed me," he said in disbelief. "And you got my messages. And you missed me. And you're wearing my jersey."

You looked down at yourself and laughed. "I've been wearing pretty frequently, actually. Turns out I don't have a dress code at my new office, which ironically is in Houston now, but I hardly ever have to be there in person."

When you met his eyes again, he asked. "New office?" He was so confused as he reached out and stroked your cheek with his fingers again just to try to make sure you were still real.

"Yeah," you said softly, taking another step closer to him. "I have you to thank for that. I have you to thank for a lot of things." You bit your lip before you said, "I left the New York Times. I just finished my last assignment for Greg yesterday. I'm working on a brand new piece now. I actually begged my new employer to let me come back to California for the Anaheim Ducks article even though it's a bit of a fluff piece, because it meant I could come here and tell you that I'm happier now."

"You are?" he asked, unsure what you meant by that. He was having a hard time listening to your voice and looking at your face at the same time, and he wondered how he'd managed ten days in your presence for the World Series. You were just so overwhelmingly perfect.

"Yes, Bradley. You made me think about my career, and I kind of took the time to change some of my priorities. Because if there's a man as incredible as you who is willing to take a chance on me, then I can take the same kind of chance on myself."

"Ace."

You smiled up at what he was sure was a look of longing on his face. "I'm working for Velocity Report now, and I'm going to have a lot more time off between assignments. Which is important, because you reminded me that I need to take breaks and eat and take care of myself. Even when you're not around."

"I loved doing that for you," he gasped, suddenly dying to kiss you.

"Yeah, well, you were really good at it," you said as your smile faded a little bit. "But that's why I'm here. To tell you all of this in person. You deserve to hear it in person instead of over the phone, especially since I never responded to you. I wanted to, but I just wasn't ready until now. And I don't know if you read what I said about you in my Detroit Red Wings article... but, I still miss you. And I love you."

His heart was pounding so hard, he thought he was going to pass out. "You love me?" he asked, absolutely needing you to say it again for him as your eyes drifted to where the box of baseball cards was still out on the coffee table.

Your smile grew as you reached out for his hand and tugged him closer like you were going to kiss him. "Yes, I do. I love-"

Bradley heard a noise behind him, and his heart sank as his eyes went wide. You were looking off to the side, and he heard Shannon's voice. "Oh, sorry." He turned to see her with a puzzled look on her face. He had completely forgotten she was even here. After a few minutes in your presence, you were the only thing that mattered.

"Oh my god," you gasped, wrenching yourself away from Bradley. "Oh, fuck." You looked at him with your hands on your forehead and tears in your eyes. "You know what? Forget I was even here. I'm sorry," you gasped, turning on your heel and walking full speed across his yard to the black car that was parked at his curb.

It took him a second, but then he was right behind you. "Ace! No, Baby, you don't understand." But it didn't look like you were listening as you dug the keys to your rental car out of your pocket. "Ace! Please!" He ran barefoot out onto the street to try to beat you to the car door, but you were too fast. When he reached for your hand and spun you around to face him, you had tears streaming down your cheeks.

He was frozen, clinging to your hand as you whispered, "She's the bartender. I should have never come here."

"No," he begged, stepping into your personal space, but you kept dodging him. "It's nothing. I want you here. I need you here."

But you pulled your hand free and reached for the door handle as you sobbed, and it broke Bradley's heart. "I need to go."

He was ready to drop to his knees. "She doesn't mean anything, Ace! Please! I missed you too, Baby! I've been miserable without you, okay? You have no idea."

You wouldn't even look at him now as you pushed him out of the way so you could climb in the car. He felt all of his dreams slipping through his fingers twice now as you slammed the door closed, started the engine and drove.

"Ace!" he shouted running alongside your door until you hit the accelerator and left him standing in the middle of his street without shoes on. "Ace. I love you," he whispered as you turned left at the end of his block, and then you were out of sight.

Bradley sank down until he was squatting with his face buried in his palms. "Fuck!" he screamed, the sound only slightly muffled as he jumped up to his feet and made his way back to his house where Shannon was standing on his porch. She looked disgusted as another car pulled up in front of his house.

"Why are we sleeping together if you're clearly in love with her?" she asked, barely looking at him as she headed toward her Uber. "You should go take care of that."

As Bradley watched her away, he tried to pinpoint exactly how he'd fucked all of this up. He wondered if there was any way to fix it. Once again, he couldn't breathe correctly as that crushing feeling returned to his lungs. This feeling has vanished for those few minutes he was with you again.

"Maybe you don't even deserve her," he told himself as he walked back inside alone, thinking about how for a minute there, you'd loved him back.

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

Oh, Bradley. Oh, you sweet thing. Should I add one more part? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 9

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catmiemy · 19 days

Text

Another Chance to Live Part 2 (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)

Summary: Ana has to play against her former club with your former team. You do your best to support each other and slowly become closer.

Part 1

A/N: It took me a bit longer to re-read and edit this than I thought since it made me emotional because of another transfer that I'm still in denial about 😭

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this next part. I'm always happy to hear what you think or what you'd like to see in this story.

Just like you had hoped, Ana and you continued to hang out regularly. In fact you spent most of your days off together and even met up fairly often in the evenings, relaxing either at her or your apartment. More often than not you still couldn’t believe your luck that the Swiss woman actually liked being around you too.

You made sure to steer away from any deep topics though, keeping in mind that Ana preferred when you offered distractions when she seemed unhappy. It wasn’t always easy for you because you wanted to know everything about her and you longed to comfort the blonde when she looked at you with sad eyes. However you understood that she had other people, better friends, that she could talk these things over with.

On the other hand Ana with her sweet and caring nature always asked how you were doing and offered to listen to your problems the moment she picked up that something was bothering you. The desire to tell her everything was almost unbearable at times. You wanted to unload all the things weighing on your heart , well maybe not everything, you would never reveal your feelings for her, but other things like the situation at your club or with your family.

However you didn’t. You successfully kept yourself from spilling your sorrows to Ana. For one you didn’t want to burden the Swiss woman with your problems, she had enough going on without you adding to it. And also you didn’t want her to know that she was the only person you would actually feel comfortable opening up to. It was a painful reminder that Ana was so much more important to you than you were to her.

A few days before Atlético was due to play Barcelona in Madrid the two of you were hanging out again. You had cooked some food together and then settled down in front of the TV for the night. You could tell that the Swiss woman was having a hard time focusing on the show you were watching, even though she had picked it.

Ana kept sighing quietly and glancing over at you. You in turn did your best to distract her, offering up your thoughts about what you were seeing on TV. It was getting increasingly difficult not to ask the blonde what was going on.

‘She prefers a distraction. She doesn’t want to talk about it, at least not with you. What she wants from you is a distraction, so try to find some interesting or funny things to say for crying out loud!’ You reminded yourself over and over again.

You were searching your brain to find something good to say when Ana broke the silence. “Can I ask you something?” She asked timidly.

The insecurity in Ana’s voice took you by surprise, that was really unlike her. But you didn’t dwell on it; instead you quickly assured the Swiss woman that she could always ask you anything.

“Okay, so…It’s not really a question but a favor. And it’s totally fine for you to say no, don’t feel bad at all if you say no! Especially because it puts you in a bit of an awkward situation. You know what, I’m just now realizing how stupid and selfish this is and I just changed my mind.”

You reached out to place your hand on Ana’s thigh, hoping to comfort and calm the clearly agitated woman this way.

“Hey, don’t worry. Just ask me. I have no doubt that the answer will be yes,” you encouraged her.

There wasn’t a single thing you could think of that you wouldn’t do for Ana. Well maybe there were some things, most of them illegal in one way or another, but you doubted that the Swiss woman was going to ask for any of them.

Ana took a deep breath before rushing out her request, “Would you come watch our game this week? The idea of seeing all of my former teammates again really hurts and it would help me so much if I knew you were there. I understand that it’s a lot to ask because my team is your former team, so like I said…”

„Yes, of course I’ll come, it’s the least I can do,” you interrupted the Swiss woman.

Sure you weren’t too keen on going back to Atlético’s stadium and see all of your former teammates play together without you, but the simple fact that Ana asked you to come and even said it would help her, was enough to forget all about that. Who cared if it would make you a little sad? Who cared if maybe some people would come up to you and bring up the still painful transfer? You definitely didn’t, not if you had a chance to make the blonde feel better.

For some reason Ana seemed taken aback by your answer. “Wait what? It’s the least you can do? What have I ever done for you? If anything I owe you! You keep hanging out with me; you keep showing me amazing places here.”

You scrunched up your nose at the blonde’s words. It didn’t sit right with you that she made it sound like hanging out with her was a chore for you, not when it was the only thing that brought you any joy lately.

“But I love spending time with you!” You cried out, for once completely forgetting to add the obligatory ‘as a friend’.

A soft smile appeared on the Swiss woman’s face when she heard your words, as well as the indignation in your voice.

“The same is true for me,” she was quick to assure you, before focusing once again on her first question. She wouldn’t let you wriggle out of this so easily. “But seriously why do you feel like you need to pay me back in anyway? I don’t remember ever doing anything for you.”

Slight panic began pumping through your veins, as you scrambled to come up with anything better to offer up than ‘You hang out with me when you’re so much better than me and there are surely so many better people in your life that you could hang out with.’ That just wouldn’t do. It was one thing to be pathetic, but another thing to shout it from the rooftops.

“I didn’t really mean it like that. Just that I’m always happy to do anything for you,” you mumbled finally. This time you caught yourself however and quickly continued, “I love being there for my friends.”

Ana didn’t need to know that there was no one else on the planet you would do this for.

“Aw, you’re so sweet,” the blonde cooed, her compliment instantly making you blush. “And I hope you know that I’m always happy to do anything you need as well.”

You nodded instinctively, not believing it for one second. Not that you doubted that Ana would be there for you in a for a friend reasonable manner, but your commitment to her went way beyond that. There was very little the blonde could ask for that you wouldn’t do for her.

Thankfully the conversation moved on to safer topics after thi and you could relax once again. At least as much as you were ever able to relax around the woman you were hopelessly in love with.

---

When you walked to your seat in Atlético’s stadium a few days later you cursed yourself for agreeing to this. With every step you took it felt like the sadness inside of you grew, taking up more and more space until it was almost impossible to breathe.

This was supposed to be your stadium. Your teammates, former teammates you reminded yourself, had often called you the Alexia Putellas or Leah Williamson of Atlético Madrid. Someone that practically bled their team’s color, born and raised there, and honestly set on dying there too.

Not that you had ever been on a level comparable to Alexia or Leah, which had become painfully obvious when Aleti just dropped you like you were a piece of trash. You hadn’t told anyone this yet, but after that conversation you had seriously considered giving up football once and for all. The thought of playing anywhere else had been ripping you apart. But in the end the idea of not playing the sport you loved at all anymore had been even harder to bear.

You thanked your lucky star that you at least made it to your seat without anyone approaching you. At this point you weren’t sure if you would be able to keep it together if anyone spoke to you. Maybe the people around you could read as much on your face because you could definitely hear some whispering and felt a lot of gazes resting on you, but miraculously people kept their distance.

Although it was possible you were wrong about seemingly everyone watching you. You didn’t look around to check if the stares you could feel were actually real, instead you made sure to keep your eyes carefully trained on the pitch, avoiding making eye contact with anyone, which might inadvertently give them the courage to come up to you.

So you sat there, totally rigid, every fiber of your body tense, wishing for the seconds to pass by as quickly as possible, but somehow that only made them crawl slower than a snail. Maybe you should just leave, come up with an excuse why you had to go. Was this really worth it?

You got your answer the moment Ana entered the pitch, looking around the stadium searchingly. The instant she spotted you a big smile appeared on the blonde’s face, all of the tightness leaving her body momentarily.

Yes, this was worth it. Ana was worth this and so much more.

You kept thinking of the Swiss woman’s happiness and relief at seeing you when people got bolder during half time, walking up to you to tell you that they missed you at Atlético, that it wasn’t the same without you and that they would never forgive the club for their treatment of you. Empty words since they were here supporting them right now.

Not that you wanted them to turn their backs on the team. You understood having conflicting feelings, your own probably the most complicated of them all. Being back in this stadium you played so many of your games, made you furious and sad, but it also filled you with a longing to go back and brought about a sense of worthlessness. Why hadn’t you been good enough to keep around?

Despite Ana’s best effort to act nonchalant you saw the signs of her struggles clearly, even from the relative distance of the stands. So throughout the entire game you kept watching the blonde like a hawk, as if you could help her feel better about this by some sort of telepathic connection that required a laser like focus on your end.

This way you observed how tense Ana was when her former teammates hugged her, almost reluctant to accept the loving touches because she knew she wasn’t going to see them again anytime soon after this night.

You also saw how lost the Swiss woman looked on the pitch when the game started. As if she couldn’t quite wrap her head around the fact that she was on the field with the Barça girls, but not as their teammate.

And you noticed that Ana avoided looking over to the traveling Barcelona fans until the game was finished, despite them chanting her name several times. Only once the final whistle was blown did she go over. It seemed impossible from your spot practically on the other side of the stadium, but you were sure you saw the Swiss woman holding back tears as she thanked them profusely.

You kept on watching while Ana talked with her former teammates. She smiled while chatting, but it was a smile filled with sadness. You briefly wondered if the Barça girls could see that as well. Did they even care? Even though you knew this wasn’t their fault at all, you felt an irrational anger towards them. How could they move on from Ana so quickly? They should have raised hell!

If you would have paid the Barça players any attention you would have seen the unhappiness and concern on their faces, clearly missing the Swiss woman a great deal. However your focus lay solely on the blonde.

The moment Ana disappeared into the tunnels, you also began making your way out of the stadium, keeping your head down and brushing off everyone that tried to initiate a conversation with you. They probably thought you were being rude, but you didn’t care. You were on a mission to get to Ana’s car, the agreed upon meeting point, as soon as possible.

If you would have stopped and thought about it for a second you would have realized that there was no way she would be there anytime soon. The Swiss woman still had to shower and stay around for the post match talk, so really there was no rush. Still, you hurried there as fast as you could.

And to be honest you also felt much more comfortable in the parking lot, an area off limits to the public, than in the stadium surrounded by so many curious fans. They had all been friendly and every single one that had spoken to you had stated that they were on your ‘side’, but nonetheless it was a constant reminder of your unwilling departure from your childhood club. And if it were up to you this subject would stay buried underneath heaps of pretending.

Therefore you worked hard to keep your mind away from your own dark thoughts while you waited for Ana, focusing instead on contemplating every possible emotional state the blonde could be in and how you could be a good distraction for her tonight. Because even though the two of you had to leave for your respective national teams tomorrow you had decided to spend the evening together, maybe even have a sleepover.

When the Swiss woman appeared, the first one from the team to get to the parking lot, she was a little out of breath and looked drained. Not physically, but emotionally. You debated giving her a hug, however Ana decided for you by walking directly towards the driver seat and slipping in without pausing for a second.

You assumed that she was just eager to leave, perhaps scared that one of her former teammates would catch up to her and would want to have a prolonged conversation. That was definitely something you were a little anxious about yourself with your own former teammates. Therefore the quick departure suited you just fine.

And when you caught a glimpse of some of your former teammates entering the car park as you drove off, you thanked Ana in your mind.

The truth was that the Swiss woman had actually done it for you. Throughout the night she didn’t have the same opportunity to continuously watch you as you had, but still she kept glancing over at you any chance she got. And Ana had noticed instantly that you didn’t feel comfortable, everything about your posture and your expression had screamed that you wanted to leave. So she had made sure to rush and get you out of there as quickly as she could.

During the car ride home you kept up a constant stream of light chatter, hoping that it posed a good enough distraction for your companion. Now that she was so close, you didn’t dare to outright stare at her like you had done during the game, but with some quick glances now and then you ensured that Ana looked mostly calm, not really happy though.

At your apartment you had everything waiting for a cozy movie night. You ushered Ana to sit down and relax, while you whirled around the apartment getting everything ready. It didn’t take long since you had prepared what you could before leaving for the game.

Once you sat down and flicked on the TV, turning to the Swiss woman with a slightly forced smile, you noticed that something wasn’t right. Ana was chewing her lips nervously, tapping the tips of her fingers together in quick succession.

“Is everything okay?” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. “No wait, I’m sorry, forget that. Let’s just watch the movie, hopefully that will be a good distraction and if not, just tell me. Then we can try something else. Maybe play a game? Or just go to sleep?“

Ana sighed deeply, unhappiness etched on her usually so happy face. Anxiety began freezing your veins; you weren’t doing a good enough job at distracting her. You weren’t good enough.

“Look I know I said that stupid thing about preferring distractions once but I didn’t mean it. I just said it because…” Ana trailed off, looking very uncertain if she should continue.

“What?”

That was the only thing you could think of. The idea that all this time you hadn’t actually been giving the blonde what she craved most, felt like a stab through the middle of your heart. But even more so you wondered, if you hadn’t than why had she still been hanging out with you?

Apparently Ana decided that she did want to explain her reasoning some more. She took a deep breath before she continued talking.

“I only said it because I felt so bad complaining about my transfer to Atlético to you of all people. But I’ve regretted it almost every time we’ve hung out. Because I want to talk with you about it, I want to talk about everything with you. And most of all I want you to talk to me about your own unwanted transfer and how it makes you feel. But I felt weird pushing you to open up about it after I said I didn’t want to talk about mine.”

There was too much in Ana’s explanation that you didn’t know how to deal with, so you focused on the things that were easy for you, “You know you can always talk to me about anything. Please never feel bad about that, I’m always happy to listen! And don’t worry about me, I’m totally fine with my transfer. These things happen and it’s not like Real is a bad team or anything, so I can’t really complain.”

That was a flat out lie of course, you had been complaining a lot about your transfer and you definitely still had strong feelings about it, all of them bad. But Ana didn’t need to worry about that, not when she was struggling with her own club situation.

The Swiss woman scooted closer to you, putting a hand on your thigh. She looked at you seriously and you knew instantly that the Swiss woman didn’t believe a word you had just said.

“Don’t do that, please. It’s okay to struggle. It’s okay to feel bad after being dropped by your club, I know I do and my connection to Barcelona wasn’t even a deep as yours with Atléti.”

The softness of Ana’s voice combined with her words, words that you had been craving to hear for the longest time, brought tears to your eyes. You blinked furiously to get rid of them and quickly diverted your gaze, hopefully blocking the Swiss woman from seeing your watery eyes. Of course you had no such luck.

Ana closed the last few centimeters of distance between you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Still, you didn’t turn to meet her eyes. You were fine. The transfer didn’t bother you. At least not enough to cry about it to the Swiss woman.

“Maybe tonight we can just be sad together? I think we both need that,” Ana suggested, her voice quivering.

This made you look up. When you saw that the blonde’s own eyes were also filled with tears your resolve to be strong crumbled. If Ana needed this than you would give it to her. And if it just so happened to align with what you longed for as well that was just a lucky coincidence.

“Okay,” you mumbled and that was all Ana needed. She drew you against her, practically pulling you into her lap.

You held out a second longer but when you felt Ana’s body shaking from her sobs and heard her crying, you didn’t bother to hold yourself back any longer, letting your own tears fall.

And that’s how you stayed for a long time, the two of you falling apart in each other’s arms. You didn’t really talk about anything that night, simply relocating to your bedroom and falling asleep in each other‘s arms once all the tears had been shed.

That was a first for the two of you. At every sleepover before you had kept a careful distance, both of you sleeping on their designated side of the bed, but that night nothing was keeping you apart.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #ana maria crnogorcevic imagine #ana maria crnogorcevic x reader

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andvys · 9 months

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 10

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of Billy groping reader, Billy saying gross things about reader (as always), mentions of weed and alcohol, Steve’s pov!

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Steve learns how to move on from the past and give the love he wanted a second try.

Word count: 5.1k

A/N: @mysticmunson thank you for helping me with ideas and being a huge inspiration as always, I love u!! 🫶🏻

series masterlist

Winter break is almost over and 1984 has passed in a blur. So much has happened, things that Steve didn’t think would happen. Had someone told him that he would start a new year without you, a year back, he would call them crazy. You had always been there, walking into every year with him.

This time you are not here. You weren’t the one to kiss him at midnight. You aren’t the one he will go home with. He can’t help but wonder if you kissed him at midnight. If you think about him the way he thinks about you, right now.

He shouldn’t be. He should be thinking about her. Nancy who is willing to stay with him even after he confessed to her that he still loves you. The day after you left him standing in your driveway, he told her everything. He told her about the kiss that almost happened if you hadn’t pushed him away. He told her about the fight you two have had. He told her about the party. He came clean about everything. He promised himself that he wouldn’t lie or keep any secrets anymore. He wants to be better.

She didn’t get angry at him like he thought she would. She seemed to understand it but she was hurt and she was ready to end things. He was too.

He didn’t see a point in keeping the relationship going. Why should he? You are the one for him, you are the one he wants, you are the one he loves.

They had talked about breaking up but he hated the thought of being alone, he hated the feeling of being unneeded and unloved. He thought about your words – She is the one for you. You should be with her. I want you to be happy, even if it’s not with me.

You had always been the selfless one, the one who would sacrifice her feelings to save someone else's. You saw something in him with Nancy, something that you didn’t see in him when he was still with you and he couldn’t help but think that maybe you were right.

Maybe she is the one for him, after all.

Maybe he just really has to let you go so he can let her in. Maybe he can be good for her, the way he could never be good for you. Maybe he can be a better boyfriend for her. Maybe he can change. Maybe he can learn. Maybe he can learn how to stop loving you. Maybe he can be happy with her. Maybe he can make her happy. Maybe he can get you back someday. Maybe.

They didn’t break up. He didn’t leave and she didn’t leave him but they settled on a break.

On Christmas night, he went on a walk and passed by your house. He saw you with him and the sight of you standing under the falling snow, smiling up at him as though he is the only good thing in this world made him feel sick. He didn’t stick around long enough to see that you had never kissed him, that you simply went back to throwing snowballs at each other.

He went back to Nancy the next day and asked for a second chance, a fresh start. He didn’t question why she hesitated, he didn’t question the guilty look in her eyes. She said yes and that’s all it mattered.

She is all that matters now.

Steve might never let you go but he is willing to try.

You don’t want him anymore and the look in your eyes showed him that you won’t ever give him a second chance again. It’s over.

You are moving on.

And so should he.

And he tries, he really tries. But when school starts and he sees you again, he can’t ignore the pain in his chest when you walk past him like you are nothing but strangers.

When he left you, you pretended that he didn’t exist. You didn’t acknowledge his presence, you always acted like he wasn’t there, like he was a ghost.

But now, after you talked things out and you were the one to leave, this time, things are different. You don’t pretend that he doesn’t exist, you do acknowledge his presence now and you don’t act like he isn’t there. You see him and you don’t pretend to not see him when you walk past him. Your eyes lock when you see each other in the hallway or in the parking lot but the look in your eyes that he was used to, is long gone. There is nothing in your eyes when you look at him. There is no love, no happiness, no excitement, no warmth, no longing. All these things are long gone. The way you look at him now, is the way you look at a stranger you pass by. He has become a stranger to you and that hurts so much more than being ignored by you.

You don’t see him as your friend anymore, you don’t see him as your past lover anymore, you don’t see him as anything good in your life.

Every time he thinks that it can’t hit him any harder, it hits him even harder. The realization that he is nothing but a stranger to you now, broke his heart all over again and took everything in him not to break down in the school's hallway.

A month had passed since the night you had become strangers and while you seem to have a great time, Steve is trying his hardest to keep himself together, to be a good boyfriend for her.

Billy’s laughter pulls him out of his thoughts, he narrows his eyes at the blond, who pushes Tommy back so he can look at himself in the mirror.

The smell of the locker room makes Steve feel sick and he can’t wait to get out. A cloud of cologne mixed with sweat and the fog from the showers hangs over the room. He looks into the mirror as he dries his hair with the towel. Drops of water dribble down his chest. Steve looks at Eddie through the mirror. He is surprised to see him here. Usually, he skips gym class. His friend Jeff is standing next to him as he puts his shirt on, laughing at something Eddie had whispered to him.

Eddie is still shirtless, his jeans hang low on his hips, the chain jingles as he fastens his belt. Steve can’t help but compare himself to Eddie. His hair is darker and longer and so are his eyes. He has tattoos, on his arms and on his chest – something that he doesn’t have. He wears rings and chains, clothes that Steve would never wear.

Is Eddie your type? Is he the kind of guy you go for now?

“Hey Munson!”

Steve glances at Tommy, who is already wearing a smirk on his face as he looks the metalhead up and down.

Eddie turns around to face the jock.

“I never seen you in P.E., are you trying to impress someone?”

“Yeah, your mom.” Eddie smirks and turns back around to put his shirt on.

Billy snorts, licking his lips, he glances at Steve, “nah, he’s trying to impress someone else.”

Tommy notices the smirk on Billy’s face. A laugh falls from his lips, “aw, is the freak trying to impress the queen?”

Jeff rolls his eyes and looks down as he puts his shoes on. He already knows what’s coming next.

“I don’t think you can impress her with your shitty car and your dirty trailer, Munson.”

Jeff notices the way Eddie clenches jaw, the way his eyes fill with anger.

Steve narrows his eyes at Billy and Tommy.

“Yeah. I mean going from a rich kid to some lowlife trailer trash–”

“Shut the hell up, Tommy,” Steve snaps at his old friend. “Leave him alone.”

Everyone in the locker room, including Eddie, turns to look at Steve in shock. Never has Steve ever stood up for anyone, let alone someone like Eddie.

Steve is sick of the cruel words he hears daily, they may not be directed at him but he still can’t stand them. He doesn’t like him but Eddie doesn’t deserve this. He helped him and made sure he got home safe when he got drunk at the Hideout, he owes this to him.

He glares at his old friend and steps towards him.

“Put your clothes on and get the fuck out of here, man. I’m sick of you assholes.”

Tommy laughs in surprise.

“Wheeler is turning you into a pussy, Steve.” Billy says as he looks at him over Tommy’s shoulder.

Steve closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, he clenches his jaw.

Tommy chuckles to himself and shakes his head, “he was always a pussy.”

Eddie looks at Steve, waiting for him to react. To his surprise, he turns around and continues to put on his clothes.

“Says a guy who runs after balls and his cheating girlfriend.”

Jeff snaps his head up to look at his friend, he holds his fist up to his mouth as he tries to keep himself from laughing.

Steve looks at Eddie in surprise and narrows his eyes at Tommy, whose face gets redder each passing second. His breathing picks up and he clenches his fists.

“What did you just say?” Tommy mumbles as he walks towards Eddie, who smirks at him.

It’s no secret that Carol is cheating on Tommy, she’s been caught with a few too many basketball players behind the bleachers and even tried to make a move on Billy, in front of Tommy.

“You heard me,” Eddie says, smirking. He isn’t afraid of Tommy or any of the other guys that try to give him a hard time. He isn’t immune to the cruel words or the bullying but he is good at hitting them back with harsh words, not caring that he might get hit with something more than a few words. Eddie put on armor and a front that keeps people like Tommy away from him, they always make sure to keep their distance – too afraid of the freak who worships the devil.

Billy looks at Eddie, he raises his brows.

“You’re getting a little bit too comfortable back there, freak.”

“Just speaking the truth,” Eddie shrugs, snorting at Tommy who tries to intimidate him with a glare. He doesn’t step close enough to be able to even throw a punch, he keeps a safe distance, as always.

“Careful there, Hagans. Or you might get sacrificed to the devil tonight.” Billy smirks.

Tommy finally backs away, shaking his head.

Steve sighs to himself, he grabs his backpack and walks towards the door. He wonders how he could ever be friends with someone like Tommy.

Why didn’t he listen to you when you told him that he was no real friend?

Why didn’t he listen to you when you told him how awful he was?

Why didn’t he care when you told him how much you hated how he acted when he was around Tommy and Carol?

How couldn’t he see how awful they were when he was still with you?

Would things be different if he dropped them earlier on?

Would things be different if he dated her first?

Steve steps out into the hallway. It’s quiet and no one is around after the last period, no one except for you.

His breath gets caught in his throat.

You are here, leaning against the wall, looking down at the book in your hand. You are wearing your cheer uniform, you let your hair loose, the green scrunchie is around your wrist. The dark denim jacket is thrown over your shoulders.

You haven’t seen him yet, you are too absorbed in the book you are reading.

Another deja vu.

This moment takes him back to all the times you waited for him after cheer practice. He would walk out of the locker room to find you waiting for him, sitting on the floor, reading a book or drawing in your notebook.

The door shuts behind him and you look up, finally noticing him.

He waits for something, he doesn’t know what but he waits to see that look in your eyes.

The longing, the sadness, the love.

He doesn’t.

There’s nothing in your eyes, nothing except for disappointment because he is not the one you have been waiting for. You look over his shoulder before your eyes meet his again, you give him a tight lipped smile, the way you would give to a stranger. It hurts.

“Hi,” he mumbles with a slight, sad smile on his face.

“Hey,” you mumble before you look back down at the book in your hand.

The door opens behind him and he steps to the side. Eddie and Jeff walk out, glancing at him as they step into the hallway.

“Y/n, you didn’t have to wait for me,” Jeff jokes, putting his hand over his heart.

You giggle.

Eddie nods at Steve before he turns away to look at you.

Steve watches the way you greet Eddie, the way your eyes light up and a huge smile takes over your face when you look at him. He watches the way you wrap your arms around him.

“I can’t believe you didn’t skip,” you grin and squeeze his shoulder.

Eddie rolls his eyes but he smiles at you, “I’m trying to graduate.”

You put the book in your backpack and pick it up, throwing it over your shoulders. You hook your arm around Eddie’s and grin at him, “mhmm, you’re doing good.”

You are helping him graduate, the way you wanted to help him. Steve looks at you but you don’t spare him a second glance. Your attention is elsewhere.

He watches you leave. He watches the way Eddie throws his arm around your shoulder and pulls you into him, ruffling your hair playfully.

Steve looks down, he swallows the lump in his throat and turns around to leave.

February, 14th 1985

Steve looks down at the note in his hand, a smile is tugging at his lips. His heart skips a beat when he looks at the red flowers in his other hand. For the first time in a while, he is excited.

It’s Valentine’s day.

He is taking Nancy out on a date. He had planned it all weeks ago. First, he will take her out to dinner at Enzo’s and then he will take her home where he had prepared a surprise for her.

He looks at the note she had left in his jacket this morning. He puts it back in his pocket and walks towards the cash register, greeting the old man behind it. He places the flowers and the chocolate on the counter and reaches for his wallet.

A love song is playing on the radio, the store is decorated with pink paper hearts.

“Going on a date?” The old man asks, smiling at Steve.

“Yeah, I’m taking my girlfriend out to dinner.”

The doors slide open and as he hears the sound of your voice, his smile instantly falls. He can’t help but look.

You’re not alone, of course you are with him and you look so beautiful but different. You are wearing a skirt, one that is certainly too short for this weather, the fishnet tights do nothing to protect your skin from the cold. You are wearing platform boots and a short leather coat – dark colors, dark nails, red lips, curls and bangs. You are starting to look like the female version of him.

He wonders if your personality had changed as much as your appearance has.

“This is gonna be the best night ever.” Steve hears Eddie say.

“I know it will be,” you giggle, “I still got the credit card my dad gave me, we can book a hotel room afterwards.”

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at you, playfully.

You disappear in the snack aisle, your voices fade away and so does the excited look on Steve’s face.

“That’ll be $9.80.”

It’s very clear to him that you are on a date. With Eddie. And that’s okay, right? It’s okay that you are on a date with someone else. It’s okay that you make yourself look pretty for someone else. It’s okay that you have moved on.

He should be happy for you, right?

He should be happy to know that you are not in pain anymore.

But then why does it hurt so bad?

He shakes his head and looks back at the cashier, he places a ten dollar bill on the counter, he takes the flowers and the chocolate and leaves, not wanting to risk running into you.

Living in a small town, means running into the same people, all the time. People you don’t want to see, people you want to avoid, people you don’t like, people you wish you wouldn’t think about anymore.

Steve had a hard time getting over you, it took him weeks to accept the fact that you and him, will never be a thing again – platonic or romantic. You are a part of his past, a part that he can never get back. So he let you go or he convinced himself that he did.

While things may not be ideal, he feels content with the way his life is now. He is happy. He has a girlfriend, a group of rowdy kids that had become a huge part of his life, he will graduate soon and he is in love.

He let go of the past that he kept pining after.

It’s still weird to see you and not be with you but it’s okay now. He can walk past you and not feel his heart breaking when you don’t acknowledge him anymore. He can hear your voice and not long to hear you talk to him. He can look at you and not feel himself yearn for you.

He prefers not to see you, which has become one of his biggest challenges in the past few months. Everywhere he goes, he sees you, and every single time, you are with Eddie. Well, maybe not every single time. Sometimes you are with Heather and Chrissy or your new friend, Robin Buckley. Steve knows her from Mrs. Click’s class, she is nice but he doesn’t know much about her, except that she is in the school band and your newest friend.

You look happier than ever. Your eyes are shining with happiness every time he sees you, your skin is glowing and you seem to have a constant smile on your face, especially when you are with Eddie.

It’s been three months ever since you had gone separate ways and you changed, a lot. Your hair is longer now, your clothes are different, your music taste has changed, you are learning how to play guitar, you write songs with Eddie and you work at the record store three times a week after school – he only knows that because Max Mayfield told him, who apparently is your number one fan now. You are her english tutor and ‘the much cooler older friend’. She loves to brag about you to the boys and to him. Steve likes her and she somehow became a little sister figure in his life but he hates the smug look on her face whenever she tells him stories about you.

He doesn’t want to think about you, he doesn’t want to talk about you, he doesn’t want to see you.

But it’s almost impossible to leave the house and not run into you. Whether it’s the school’s hallway, the classroom, the grocery store, the movies, some house party, the cafe downtown – he always runs into you. Tonight, it’s the diner.

He didn’t even see you at first when he walked in. He was in a good mood all night, after a long day of studying with Nancy, he went to Benny’s Burgers to get some takeout for them. He placed his order and waited by the counter when he heard your laughter over the 70s music from the jukebox.

Now he can’t take his eyes off of you. You are sitting in a booth with Eddie, his arm is behind you, his fingertips linger on your shoulder. You are both laughing. Your hair is a little messy, just like his.

You are giggling, a lot.

You must be drunk, Steve thinks. Or maybe, you are just this happy around him.

Eddie dips the fries into the milkshake and feeds them to you which makes both of you laugh when the milkshake dripples down your chin. Steve forces himself to look away when Eddie catches it with his thumb, though he can’t keep his eyes away for too long.

Steve wonders what the two of you are. With the way you are around each other all the time, you must be a couple by now. It looks like you are one. Steve doesn’t even notice that he is clenching his jaw and his fists when he watches how Eddie cups your cheeks and pulls you closer to kiss your cheek loudly, in the most obnoxious way. Steve can’t help but roll his eyes.

He drums his fingers against the counter and narrows his eyes at you. You giggle at Eddie and grab his face, pulling him closer to you and try to kiss his cheek the way he kissed yours but your movements are sloppy and you end up kissing the corner of his mouth instead which for some reason, makes you both laugh harder. Now he is certain that you are both drunk or high or both.

“Here’s your order, kid.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you and Eddie. He reaches for his wallet and turns to look at the waitress, placing the bills on the table and giving her tight lipped smile before he grabs the bag and turns around to leave without looking at you again.

He doesn’t see or feel your eyes on him.

It’s the last game of the season and Steve’s last game, altogether. He can’t believe that this will be all over soon. High school, basketball practice, games, lunch breaks with his girlfriend, studying.

He feels anxious about his future. He decided to take the year off after he will graduate. And hopefully, he will go to college with Nancy, next fall. Deep down he knows it won’t happen, he can’t see himself going to college, he barely made it through senior year.

He doesn’t know what will happen to him and his relationship with her when she goes off to college next year.

He tries not to think about it too much. He tries to enjoy his remaining days at school and his last game. He bounces on his feet as he watches the cheerleaders perform. You are in the front, as always.

“One has to be a real fucking idiot to dump someone with that ass.”

An instant rush of anger rippels through him. Billy’s voice will never not make his blood boil.

Billy smirks as he watches you bend down, his eyes flicker over to Eddie who surprisingly came to the game, probably just to watch you dance in your tiny cheerleader uniform.

“She wouldn’t even look at the freak after I’d fuck her dumb.”

“Shut up, Hargrove.” Steve mumbles under his breath.

Billy chuckles, he steps up beside him, narrowing his eyes at Steve.

“Her taste has changed a lot,” he says, smirking. “Did you know that she listens to heavy metal now?”

Steve scrunches his face up. He hates heavy metal.

“She supports Munson’s shitty band and goes to concerts with him. Do you think they fuck in his shitty van?”

Steve opens his mouth but Billy cuts him off again.

“I bet they do. I bet she’s a little freak, that’s why she’s with him now.”

Steve clenches his jaw, his eyes find Eddie who stands in the crowd, grinning at you.

“That’s why she never looked happy with you, you didn’t fuck her good enough. The freak seems to do it better.”

Maybe he is right. Steve never took care of you the way you always took care of him. You always made sure that he felt good, he never did the same for you and he feels ashamed about it.

“I could still fuck her better though.”

“Shut the fuck up, man. She is not interested in you, she never was,” Steve snaps at him, ignoring the prying eyes of the other guys from the basketball team.

Steve had realized that you were never interested in him when it was far too late to apologize for accusing you of things you never did. You didn’t care about Billy or any other guy but he didn’t trust you back then even though you never gave him a reason not to. He always waited for you to give him one though, he waited for you to hurt him, he waited for you to cheat on him, he waited for you to leave him for someone else, he waited for you to fail. But you never did.

You loved him, only him. You wanted him. You were good and loyal, you were an amazing girlfriend and you never deserved the things he did to you.

He is angry at himself for how he treated you. He hates himself for how much he hurt you. He hates how he didn’t protect you from Billy, he hates how angry he got after he had touched you after you had pushed him off once, already.

“Are you sure about that?” Billy smirks, “then why did she let me fuc–”

Steve grabs him by the collars of his shirt, he slams him against the wall. Finally, he has had enough of him.

“She never let you do anything, you piece of shit,” Steve says, angrily. “You touched her without her permission, you made shit up about her. We both know that she would never touch you.”

Billy laughs at his words but Steve can see the anger flashing in his eyes.

“But she did, she’s a little sl–”

Before Billy can even react, Steve throws a punch, slamming his fist into his jaw.

“Dude!” Tommy yells.

Some of the guys around him gasp, the others laugh.

Billy doesn’t take long to recover, he ducks when Steve tries to throw another punch and hits him in the stomach before he throws a punch at his face. Steve stumbles back and almost falls to the ground if it wasn’t for Chase steadying him.

“Guys, this is not the right moment!” Jason yells, holding his hands up as he tries to get in between them, “we’re supposed to go out there and fight the other team, not each oth–”

“Shut the fuck up, Carver!” Billy yells, “I’m sick of your motivation speeches.”

Jason clenches his jaw and steps back.

Steve wipes the blood from under his nose, he breathes heavily as he stares Billy down. The guys look between them as they slowly inch towards each other, everyone tenses up, looking around to see if anyone is willing to get in between them.

“You really wanna do this, asshole?” Billy asks, licking his lips.

“I should’ve done that a long time ago, Hargrove.”

“Seriously?” Jason exclaims, throwing his hands up. “The game is about to start!”

Billy walks towards Steve, he is never one to back down from a fight. He had been waiting for a reason to beat the shit out of Steve but so did Steve. He should have kicked his ass a long time ago but he always directed his anger at you, instead of the guy that tried to come in between you and him – the guy who made you uncomfortable.

Steve feels the need to make things right, he knows that this won’t fix anything. It won’t take back all his actions but he still wants to hurt him.

The tension is high and both Steve and Billy are glaring at each other. The guys look between them, anxiously. The music inside the gym is still playing, the cheerleaders are still dancing, unaware to the little fight that broke out behind the doors.

Before any of them can throw any more punches, the coach walks in, taking away the chance for a fight to break out again.

Billy glares at Steve, he wipes his chin and turns away from him but the look in his eyes tells him that they aren’t done yet.

Steve scoffs, he is not done with him either. He tears his eyes away from him. He clenches his jaw. He feels so angry. He notices the way the others sigh in relief, the way they instantly relax when Steve and Billy back away from each other.

When it’s time to walk out into the gym, Steve is at the very front. He forces a smile onto his face and waves at the people on the bleachers, his eyes lock with Nancy’s, they smile at each other. She doesn’t notice how tense he is, she doesn’t even notice the remains of blood under his nose or how red his knuckles are, how angry he still looks but you notice it.

He looks at you, your eyes lock and for the first time in a while, there is no emptiness in your eyes when you look at him. You continue to clap your hands, still gripping the pompons tightly. The smile on your face begins to fade the longer you look at him. He sees the way you eye him up and down, the way you look at his knuckles and his nose that is still bleeding. He sees the way your eyes move over to Billy before you look back at him. Your brows furrow, your eyes flash with confusion and concern. It doesn’t take you long to figure out what happened.

He doesn’t want to look at you but he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. For a moment, you stare at each other.

It feels like forever but the moment only last for a few seconds. Though it doesn’t go unnoticed by a few other people.

Chrissy nudges your shoulder and you finally tear your eyes away from him. He ignores the feeling in his chest, he ignores the ache when you look away and smile again. He looks at you for another long second before he turns away too and looks back at the girl he loves.

He smiles at her, he is happy that she is here.

He is happy.

He is.

next chapter

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#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #stranger things angst

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ghoulfuckersincorporated · 17 days

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your ghoul fics have me in a fuckin chokehold 😭😩 there's nothing i love more in life than a scary sexy man w questionable morals

not to be horny in anon but like... imagine the reader, after having been traveling together for a while, being an insufferable brat for a couple days, just tap dancing on coop's last nerve- but he's not gonna get rid of you, he's seen you in action, despite his lone-ranger status, you're too useful. too skilled. too good at surviving in the wasteland as a vaultie for this not to have been destined. at least that's what he tells himself to avoid facing the fact that, well, poor bastard caught feelings. basically this is a long winded way of me saying boot riding as punishment, cause the man deserves a free polish 😶

Grunt Work

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Vault Dweller Reader

Word Count: 3,920

Warnings: smut (18+), BDSM-style dynamics, boot riding, masturbation (male), begging, mild hair pulling, mild cum play, Cooper is a softie (but a pissed off softie).

Notes: Anon, I wish you would've been here to see me read this request for the first time. I think a small part of my brain exploded. How did this become 4,000 words? It may have turned out softer than you envisioned (not the first time I've given that preface/apology and it certainly won't be the last; The Ghoul is soft deep inside and you cannot tell me otherwise!), and if so, I hope you still enjoy. Thank you for reading!

Every day with this girl was an exercise in self-restraint.

Granted, the type of self-restraint varied greatly from day to day, hour to hour. From the moment he had agreed to do business with the vaultie, she'd been testing his patience, his boundaries, his sense of what was normal.

Generally, he quite liked it. It was actually endlessly refreshing, he found, to spend time with someone who treated him like he was human, who he felt comfortable enough to actually relax a bit around. Someone who still had some sunshine left in them. Slowly, agonizingly so, they'd developed a bit of a rapport, then a genuine trust, which had eventually (and somewhat recently, given the scope of all the months they'd been traveling together) bloomed into more. What you'd call that "more", he wasn't really certain.

It had been the first time he'd allowed himself any sort of dalliance in that area since he'd divorced Barb all those years ago, and it had been both amazing and heartbreaking. Establishing that new attachment with his little vaultie had been the first time in lifetimes that he truly felt connected to his humanity, the way she'd kissed him and clung to him and sighed his name just like one would with any normal man.

He really had forgotten how wonderful it could be to be with someone, to let them get as close as they possibly could, even though he looked the way he did, acted the way he did, and refused to take off anything besides his duster, his gloves, and his hat.

He knew, deep down somewhere, that she wouldn't reject him simply for what his body looked like. Not at this point. Unfortunately, her feelings about his body didn't really change his feelings about his body. Still, getting to feel her and hold her close had been even better than he'd imagined.

But that new moment of connection, that next and first step, also meant he was fully closing the door on his time with Barb; he'd always been faithful to her, even after they'd split, since he'd really had no interest in dating again in the time after the paperwork was finalized. Then the world had ended and wasn't even a thought in his mind for ages. It had taken him months to even see the advances the girl had been making towards him, months more to reciprocate them.

As asinine as it would seem, becoming this close, actually giving himself to someone else physically and emotionally, made his two-centuries old divorce finally feel real. His ex-wife could still well be out there somewhere, as far as he knew, but they'd never be together again, even if by some wild chance they were reunited. Those special feelings he'd once held so deeply for her were no more.

When his companion had finally fallen asleep that night, tucked naked and warm against his side and wrapped in the tail of his duster, he had shed a few tears, something he genuinely didn't believe he was still capable of.

She didn't seem to be sleeping as deeply as she typically did that night, but if she'd overheard his incredibly vulnerable moment, she never let on or brought it up, and he was endlessly grateful for it.

Maybe he was just growing soft with old age.

She was also quite the burgeoning Wastelander, a shockingly good scavenger with a sharp eye for value and utility, small enough to fit in places that he couldn't, her little hands quick at hacking terminals and picking locks. But, despite her small size, she was quite strong, able to handle herself far better in most fights than he'd ever expected a vault-dweller to be capable of. He didn't necessarily need to watch over her every single second, but the urge persisted, nevertheless. Seeing her safe, seeing her happy, those things gave him a strange sense of inner peace that he hadn't felt in ages. It had become second nature to hover around her.

Besides, as of late, keeping an eye on her every second seemed to be his best bet to stay alive. He was genuinely unsure if his girl (Was that what she was?) had been dealing with an especially bad streak of luck over the last week, or what, but she was rapidly grating on his nerves much more usual.

First, she had managed to nose her way into a yao guai den and set the thing off chasing her, resulting in him taking a pretty nasty swipe to the side before they could put it down, several foot-long tears in his already worse-for-wear coat. However, she'd apologized profusely, spent a few hours that night mending and patching up his coat. He found it impossible to stay mad at her through either.

Then, she'd done the exact same thing a few days later, but with a pack of nightstalkers. He'd nearly lost a finger helping her fight them off, the shitty little things infinitely more tough than one might expect. After that, she was officially no longer in charge of picking where they slept, an arrangement he hadn't been fully aware he'd entered into until he'd had to put his foot down about it. Whatever, she'd pouted a bit and insisted it wasn't her fault. He didn't love how little she spoke to him when she was pouting, and her resolve for keeping at such things was irritatingly strong, but what bothered him more was how well it worked.

Eventually, he'd apologized for snapping at her. That night, she chose where they slept. He tried to not think too long on why he'd let her.

He didn't fully understand why he found himself acting this way around her, and only her. All he knew for sure was that he'd be devastated to lose her, as chagrined as the admission made him, and so he did his best to make things pleasant to keep her around.

What she'd pulled today, however, had managed to officially piss him off.

After a long week of iffy sleep and more scrapes with wildlife and fiends than usual, they had both been a tad testy by the time they'd reached the shabby little trading outpost at the edge of the Wastes, one of the last places you could reliably stop for clean water and supplies in this section of the desert going the way they'd come from. It was also a reliable place for him to obtain vials, and had come in handy to a life-saving degree more than once.

The girl had gotten slick-mouthed with the proprietor over the price of some fancy machine parts she'd scrounged up, insisting that they were worth far more than he was offering her. Granted, she was right; the man was attempting to swindle her, to some degree, but frankly, the damn things were cumbersome and heavy and he wouldn't even call the price she could theoretically get for them worth hauling them around in the heat. If it were him, he wouldn't have dragged them all this way, and would certainly ditch them now.

For reasons he couldn't fathom, though, her solution to the man offhandedly threatening to just keep the damn things had been to pull her pistol on him, which, of course, had set off an entire chain of unnecessary events. The owner's gun had come out, as well, then Cooper's, despite him actually trying to talk the situation down for once.

The man wouldn't relent, however, and he had been forced to shoot his hand off to end the conflict without her blood being spilled. Well, maybe not completely forced, but it certainly felt that way at the time. That particular trading outpost had been incredibly useful to him for well over a decade, and now he wouldn't be able to return.

If it had been anyone else, he probably would have shot them.

Not probably. He would have shot them.

But instead, here he was, tucked into a creaky old UV-eaten lawn chair, smoking and trying to disguise how unsettlingly happy he was to finally have some safe alone time with her beneath his annoyance at being inconvenienced. If there was one thing he hated, it was being inconvenienced. But, if there was one thing he greatly enjoyed, it was her company, so he was at a bit of an impasse.

It was moments like this where he wondered if he'd finally poisoned his brain with too much Jet or any other number of substances, the haze that consumed him every moment around her thick. Even now, when he was angrier with her than he'd ever been at any point in their travels, he couldn't focus on his legitimate grievance because he wanted her so badly. It was the single most irksome thing he'd ever experienced.

She was quickly sniffing out this weakness of his, perceptive little minx that she was. Increasingly, she was quick to soothe his bad moods with little touches and kisses, and it made him melt embarrassingly every single time. He'd been livid and silent as they'd trudged away from the building, both of them covered in rapidly-cooling blood spatter, when she'd brushed her hand along his back softly; a sort of apology, he supposed. Since then, his main source of anger had been himself and his lack of resolve when it came to this particular woman.

The old cowboy was determined to teach her a lesson today, though.

He'd spent the better part of an hour checking their perimeter once they'd come across this place, and the little sniper's nest where they were holed up had a great view of the area. It certainly wasn't much, little more than a rusty metal panel jammed between some rocks, a mattress, a chair, and a radio. But for the first time in a few weeks, things were safe, quiet, and calm. They had plenty of rations between the two of them, and water wasn't as much of a concern as it had been on their way in. She was so comfortable that she'd actually shed her boots and socks, her dainty little feet curled up underneath her as she nibbled away at something under the ramshackle "roof".

Now was the time. He just had to wait for the opportunity.

"You've been quiet since we left the traders." she said after a while of companionable, though mildly terse, silence. It wasn't a question, but at the same time very much was, and the casual, roundabout way she was addressing what was her own actions made him scowl slightly.

"You've been a pain in my ass these last few days, sugar." he said flatly, glaring at her as best as he could from under the brim of his hat. "Should be happy I've just been quiet now."

She actually rolled her eyes slightly, but clearly didn't think he'd seen it, keeping silent as she continued to eat. Increasingly bold for someone within grabbing distance. Cooper let a few seconds pass, studying her.

"Y'know, when I was in the marines, if you were a little shitheel, they'd make you do grunt work." he said eventually, voice matter-of-fact.

She pursed her lips at that, finishing up the can of beans she'd been steadily tucking into.

"I don't think I know what that is." she replied almost absentmindedly.

"It's the shit work no one ever wanted to do, so being assigned to it was intended as a punishment. Scrubbin' floors, toilets. Peelin' potatoes. Polishin' boots."

She chuckled at his anecdote as if it were meant to be entertaining, but the way he let her laugh hang in the silence, staring her down as she sat there curled up beside him, said otherwise. After a moment, she sort of narrowed her eyes at him, her tone low, almost conspiratory, when she asked:

"What're you playing at, cowboy?"

"I'm sayin' you're in trouble, cowgirl." he replied, reaching out to hold her chin solidly in his grip and watching her pout. "I'm sayin' that I think a little grunt work would do you and that attitude of yours some good, and I'm sayin' that I think you should polish my boots."

"Polish your boots?" she repeated, wrapping her tongue around each of the words like they were foreign to her.

"Pretty sure there ain't a functioning toilet within a hundred miles of where we're sitting, and I ain't got any potatoes. So…"

"You can't be serious." she said, her eyes full of curious suspicion as she looked him up and down.

Releasing her chin, the old ghoul set to removing his gloves, tugging his second hand free and using his naked pointer finger to draw a little 'x' over his heart.

"Serious as the grave, darlin'."

There were a few pregnant seconds of them staring one another down, waiting for the other to bend, to flinch. She even lifted her chin towards him, just enough for him to pick up on, an unspoken challenge. God, she was so like him.

"Now…be good and take your clothes off." he smirked, brows raising when she made to argue in response. Her lips worked their way between her teeth as she hesitated before slowly dropping all her armor from her arms and torso, then drawing the dirty shirt underneath over her head.

"Is that better, Coop?" she asked, letting her hair down out of the knot she'd tied it up into on top of her head, the strands framing her face as she worked him over again with those eyes of hers. Pulling herself up into a standing position, he did his best to ignore the way her bare breasts moved and dipped with gravity.

"Mmm. I think it would be more fittin' if you called me 'sir', frankly."

"You cannot be serious!" she insisted again, indignant as she slid the zipper on her trousers down, her tone making him chuckle despite himself. She just didn't know when to quit, and it was fucking adorable.

"Am I ever unserious?" he asked, ignoring the look she shot him back in favor of watching her slowly work the worn pants down over the curve of her ass, dropping them into a pile around her feet and leaving her standing there as naked as the day she was born. He felt his already-stiffening cock twitch slightly, resisting the urge to rub himself through the faded pinstripes of his pants. This was supposed to be a punishment for her, and doing that would give her too much opportunity to distract him.

"Aww, c'mon, boss." she sighed, pressing at a hidden button of his, cocking her head and sending that silky curtain around her face glinting in the light.

"I mean it, missy. You fucked up pretty bad today, and you need to be punished for it. And what did I just say?" he responded, fighting hard to keep his voice even and body still.

"Well…what else would you have in mind as a punishment, sir?" she purred as she stepped back towards him, batting those long, dark lashes his way. He managed to keep his eyes on hers and off of her body, a task that felt herculean as the ache in his gut grew more intense. For a split second, he wanted to give in to her, to pin her to the ground and fuck the attitude out of her like he'd wanted to for days. But there would be plenty of time for that later.

"I promise you that if you knew your other options, darlin', you'd choose this." he replied, finishing his smoke and tossing the butt away. Digging his inhaler out for a quick puff, he finally removed his hat and set it aside, reclining just enough to allow his feet to stick out a few inches in front of him.

She huffed at her little ploy failing to work, crossing her arms and cocking her hip slightly. Cooper's teeth dug into the inside of his cheek to keep back a grin.

"Well, are you gonna take them off?" she demanded.

He couldn't hold back his smirk at that, his head cocking as he continued to stare her down.

"Just how long are you gonna keep playin' dumb? You know it's gonna get cold when it gets dark."

Studying her face, he could see the faint lines of confusion there, and wondered if maybe she really didn't know what he meant.

"There's a reason I wanted you naked, honey, and it ain't just the view."

Though it certainly didn't hurt.

It took a few long, long seconds of her looking him up and down, wondering, but eventually the glow of realization lit up her face, followed by more brow furrowed confusion.

"How would that even work?" she asked, though her tone was more curious than argumentative.

"I suppose you'll figure it out, huh? Askin' an awful lot of questions for someone who's about to be freezin' their twat off in about half an hour." he said, watching with apparent glee as she fidgeted in place, pulling another cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it.

Still attempting to make a stand, she didn't move, chewing away at that bottom lip as she hesitated there. He could smell that she was already turned on.

"Go on. Get to work." he ordered softly, exhaling smoke through his nose, staring into her eyes.

After a heartbeat, she seemed to accept her fate and slowly lowered herself down onto her knees in front of him. That, too, made his cock jump. Her cheeks had a visible rosy hue as she clearly struggled to arch herself at the right angle to make proper contact; after a few long seconds of her huffy sighs, he took mercy on her and tilted the toe of his boot more skyward, allowing her to begin to rub herself back and forth across the dusty leather in earnest.

He watched as her face slowly morphed from mildly confused concentration to blossoming arousal, the tint in her cheeks growing until it consumed her entire face.

"How does it feel?" he asked quietly, taking another long drag off of his smoke.

"It feels good." she huffed, a light sheen of sweat glinting on her soft skin.

He reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair at that, squeezing just enough to make her gasp, her eyes flying open to gaze up at him, wide and wet.

"Feels good what?" he demanded. "Given you an awful lot of chances on that, kid. Y'know, insubordination usually calls for more severe punishment."

"It feels good, sir." she replied, her hips stuttering slightly as she struggled to move them with her head fixed in place, her eyes falling shut again. He found it a little surprising that the mild pain hadn't stopped her or made her complain more. If anything, she'd seemed to like it. He took note of that for later.

"Tsk. Well, it's supposed to be a punishment, but I guess I can't help it if a little freak like you gets off on polishin' my boots. Guess I did know a guy in the service who really liked bein' made to scrub the floor, but, between you and me, I think he might've had a little thing for bein' pushed around and told what to do." Cooper's voice fell to a secretive murmur as he spoke to her, watching her eyes dart away as he teased her.

However, as he watched her slide herself back and forth across his foot, he found it more and more difficult to resist the urge to touch himself. When her eyes didn't open for several minutes, focused entirely on the sensation, it would seem, he took the opportunity to palm his cock, his hips eventually beginning to rock against his hand. That movement caught her attention, her gaze burning into him as she watched; this was a button of hers for whatever reason. Feeling emboldened and somewhat sure that she was too distracted to cause trouble, he quickly undid his belt and fly and tugged his erection free, a shiver running down his spine as he gave himself a few experimental pumps in the cooling air.

Unfortunately, he'd underestimated how coherent she still was, her head remaining low, but her right hand creeping up his leg towards his hand. He jerked his chin towards her, sending her jumping back a bit. However, she didn't look fearful, more chastened.

"Don't. You. Fuckin'. Dare." he growled, his hand not stilling for a moment. "If you touch me, I'm gonna put you over my knee and spank your little ass until you can't sit right for a week."

His threats only seemed to make her hotter, a throaty moan leaving her as she began to hump his boot with increased speed, all attempts at preserving any semblance of her dignity abandoned in the pursuit of her orgasm. The grip he was maintaining on himself tightened, and a growl ripped out of his chest in response as he fought to keep his eyes open and on her. If he could still sweat, he'd be pouring it just like her.

Cooper's leg jerked involuntarily as a particularly strong wave of pleasure shot up his spine, digging the toe of his boot harder into her weeping little slit, and she keened in response, her body beginning to twitch all over like it did when she was nearing her end.

"You close, honey? You wanna cum?" he asked feverishly, rapidly sprinting towards his own finish line.

She nodded rapidly, her breasts heaving with her strained breath as her nails dug into his thigh.

"Please, please, please..." she breathed over and over.

"Look at you, just cleaned the thing and you're about to make a mess all over it because you're such a needy little slut." he chastised, breaking down into a harsh whisper as he seized her by her hair once more, his cig hanging loosely from his lips. "Go on, baby. Cum all over my boot."

The labored whine she let out as she lost herself all over him, and the blissful way her face contorted as she cried out, was more than enough to finish him off, his release spurting all over his hand and stomach. They both growled and groaned their way through their shared release, her collapsing against the inside of his leg as she panted heavily. Working to control his own breathing, he let his head fall completely back with a blunted "thud" against the frame of the chair, releasing his grip on her head.

After a few quiet moments, they both rather sheepishly peeked at one another. He held his spend-covered hand up in front of her face, the mess catching the fading light as he reached out towards her.

"You're gonna have to clean that up, too." he said softly, rubbing some of the slickness across her lips, barely holding back a groan when the little pink tip of her tongue darted out to lap at his fingers as they passed by.

"Mmm. Yes, sir." she responded, gently laying her temple against the side of his knee, those big, round eyes slowly slipping shut. Cooper reached out and laid his palm against her head, petting her now-rumpled hair with more affection than he'd like to admit, admiring her in the golden-red hue of the evening sun.

"Don't get too comfy there, sweetheart." he said after a few quiet moments, his cock beginning to stir again. "Don't forget, I've got another boot."

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #ghoulcy #vaultghoul #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

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