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buckyalpine · 8 months

Note

I adore all of your stories and turn to them at night when my brain won’t stop running. I have kind of a weird request. How would Bucky react to his girl temporarily losing her memory? (I once lost mine for two weeks due to a bad reaction to a medicine, so this pops in my mind from time to time.) The reader doesn’t remember who he is, but still feels safest when she’s with him. I’m sure he’d be the absolute sweetest. And since he’d know what it was like, he’d probably know what’s helpful and what makes things worse. When she eventually recovers, she remembers all he did for her and falls even more in love 🥰 Maybe some spicy thank yous?

Sorry if it’s too specific or out of your comfort zone! Feel free to change anything (I did base it a bit on what happened to me, but I’m sure it’d be different for everyone). Thanks!!

YESS THIS IS SO SWEET AND SOFT AND ADORABLE

"I need back up on the east wing!" Steve's voice crackled through the coms, his breathing labored as he tossed off another hydra operative against the wall, "A-agent down!"

You were passed out on the floor, dust and rubble surrounding you after exhausting yourself, 3 stab wounds were bleeding profusely from your abdomen along with other cuts and bruises littering your skin. Your head throbbed in pain from where you'd been hit and with each passing second it became harder for you to stay awake. You'd tried your best to keep your eyes open with Steve's pleading but it was too much; the pain started to dull and the world went black.

"It's a strong medication and she might be out for a little longer but she's going to be okay. We just have to keep monitoring her" Dr. Cho's voice spoke softly just outside of the room where you still laid unconscious. After getting patched up and scanned for damages, you were dosed with anything and everything to keep you rested and to help with pain. You had visitors day in and day out to check on you but the one that never left your bedside was your sweet boyfriend.

"Baby please wake up" Bucky softly pleaded as he ran his fingers gently across your face, not wanting to disturb you but also unable to keep his hands to himself. Not when he just wanted to see you open your eyes again, hating the fact that he hadn't heard your voice in two weeks.

Two weeks.

That's how long you'd been out for.

He was patient, not wanting to rush your healing time but he missed you so much. He continued his soft ministrations, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles and peppering kisses across your cheeks. He noticed the slight flutter of your lashes, sitting up immediately when your heart monitor picked up.

"Sweetheart?" He kept his voice low, paging for a nurse to come check on you while holding your hand, his heart racing when you finally opened your eyes. "Oh baby"

You blinked at the fluorescent lights of the room, looking at the sterile environment surrounding you. Bucky stroked your hand, hoping to ease away how disoriented you were probably feeling, giving you a soft smile when you finally met his eyes.

"How are you doll?"

"Um-I'm fine?" You stared at the handsome stranger that was by your bedside, his beautiful blue eyes swirling with emotion as he continued to clutch onto your hand.

"I was so worried y/n"

"Who-I'm really sorry, who are you?"

Bucky's eyes widened with horror, quickly recomposing himself seeing your confused expression. He dropped your hand, immediately adding space between you both, offering you comforting smile before heading out of the door.

"Let me get the doctor" He didn't want to worry you, keeping a steady voice as he spoke before speeding down the corridor as soon as he was out of sight. He wasted no time informing the others about what had just happened, the team all patiently waiting outside of your room while the doctor checked on you.

"Will she be okay?" the words came tumbling out of Bucky as soon as Dr. Cho finished running a few tests, shutting the door behind her, letting you rest. He'd been pacing up and down the hall like a changed animal the entire time, only stopping when he heard Dr. Cho gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"Her memory will come back eventually but until then it's important things are calm for her. Between the hits she took and the medication, she doesn't remember much from the last 2 years. You have to remember, throwing too much information at her will set her back so do your best to keep things the way she'd understand"

It wasn't going to be easy. There was no time line for when your memory would return and you had just joined the team two years ago. You didn't remember anyone, having no recollections of all the memories you'd built with them, nor remembering any of the friendships you had. As soon as you were discharged, you took the first day to rest in your room, not knowing that Nat had cleaned out all memories of Bucky so you wouldn't feel more confused.

After sleeping for most of the day, a man knocked on your door and introduced himself as Tony Stark, the very Iron Man. You couldn't recall too much but the name rang a bell; you knew he was the main person for you to go to if you needed anything. His first task was to take you around the compound, introducing you to various members of the team.

You met Nat and Clint training together in the gym. Sam had been tinkering with something called Red Wing. Steve had welcomed you with a warm hug and Bruce had been working away in the lab. Tony continued his tour, walking you through the kitchen when your eyes landed on a familiar face from before.

"And whose that" You felt your face heat up as you pointed over to the handsome man that has been by your bed earlier in the day, still feeling his soft touch on your skin.

"That's Bucky, or Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes" Tony stated, smiling at the way your eyes lingered on the soldier for longer than necessary. "Here, let's go say hi"

Tony sauntered over to where Bucky was nursing a cup of coffee, the bags under his eyes growing from a lack of sleep but that didn't stop him from throwing you a bashful smile when Tony introduced brought you to him.

"Barnes, this is y/n, she's joining our team soon"

"Nice to meet you doll" Bucky shook your hand with the utmost care, the pet name he had just for you rolling off his tongue with ease. "Let me know if you need anything"

You felt butterflies at the smirk the soldier threw your way before making his way over to the gym, the blue eyes twinkling with something you couldn't quite place. The rest of the day went by smoothly and later that night you accepted the teams invitation to join them for dinner and then later a movie night.

You were aware that you'd sustained an injury which was affecting your memory; what you still didn't know was how much of your memory was missing. You felt nervous as you made you way to the dining table, everyone sitting in their designated spot, chatting away while passing dishes to each other.

Before you could quietly retreat to your room, you locked eyes with those familiar baby blues, a smile growing on his face. Bucky got up from his seat, noting how anxious you looked, understanding seeing everyone together would be overwhelming when you didn't remember any of them. He knew exactly how that felt and there was no way he was going to let you ever feel even an ounce of that.

"I hope you're hungry, doll" Bucky spoke to you softly, not bringing attention to where you'd backed up against the wall in hopes of not being noticed.

"A little" You lied, the rumble of your stomach giving away that you were starving.

"Would-would you like to join me out in the garden? I'll bring some food out for you" Bucky offered, hoping you'd feel less overwhelmed with a bit of space.

"Yes please, thank you Bucky" You shyly smiled as he stepped away to get you some food, taking both of your plates outside to eat under the soft glow of the moon. You appreciated that he didn't bombard you with questions; the both of you eating in comfortable silence until it was time for the movie. All the anxiety you'd anticipated feeling disappeared into thin air when Bucky made some space for you to sit beside him. He picked a section of the room where you'd be able to sneak off undetected if you wanted to leave early.

There was something about the Sergeant that made you feel safe. You felt loved by everyone but with Bucky it was just different. You felt safe around him. You trusted him. You didn't know him all that well and yet whenever he was around, you knew you didn't have to worry.

There were days where your anxiety would be at an all time high, worried about why you were getting vivid flashes of random memories and terrible headaches that made you nauseous. In those moments where you felt so lost, so out of control over your own thoughts, Bucky would ground you, just being around him making you feel better.

You couldn't understand why you felt so safe around a man you barely knew but you found yourself seeking him out more and more, desperate for more of his kind words, gentle touches and soothing voice.

He really was the sweetest.

It killed Bucky. His heart was hurting. He was a stranger to you and it shattered him, wishing he could kiss and cuddle you every night and tell you he was so glad you were okay, that a part of him nearly died when you didn't wake up. Everyday he had to bid you good night with nothing more than a smile, so badly wanting to hold you tight in his arms instead.

None of that mattered right now.

Not when you needed him the most even if you didn't know it.

He was going to do whatever it took to get you better, taking care of you every step of the way in the best way you needed until you remembered. He could tell by the way you giggled, by the way you smiled, that even if you didn't remember everything, there was always something between you both.

He'd never give up on you no matter how long it took.

"Shit" You hissed, dropping the mug of tea you were sipping on, the cup shattering on the floor with a crash. Searing pain felt like it was splitting your head into to, your hands clutching onto your throbbing temples, squeezing your eyes shut, the headaches you'd been getting happening more frequently.

You'd cut back on the medication you were taking, which had actually helped with regaining some of your memory but it also meant you'd go through bouts of pain without anything to help it. Flashes of a mission gone wrong streamed through you memory between fiery throbbing, even the soft day light overwhelming your sense.

"B-Bucky!!" You cried out, your knees buckling as you slumped onto the floor, blinking back tears as another wave of pain passed. You didn't need anything else but you needed your Bucky, the only person you felt felt safe with, the person you'd loved for all these years, the man who was by your bedside for days on end after you didn't wake up-

"Doll? Fuck, y/n, whats wrong sweets" Bucky found you curled up in a ball on the cool kitchen tile, sweeping you up into his arms and holding your head against his chest, his arms covering your face from the light, while his cool metal arm was pressed firmly against your forehead to ease the pain. "M'here y/n, you're okay, you're okay"

He rocked you, not moving from the floor while whispering in your ear, hoping the pain would pass quickly.

"Jamie, it hurts" You whimpered, clutching onto his Henley, the scent of his body wash calming you down. Bucky froze, not saying a word, his heart hammering against his chest at what you'd just called him.

Could that mean-

"Do-do you want to go lie down sweets?" Bucky spoke carefully, feeling you nod, still staying tucked against him. He carried you up to your room, only to have you shake your head as best as you could, wanting to go to his room instead.

"Just want to sleep for a bit baby, please?" you pleaded with him, hardly realizing the tears that were now streaming down his face as he made his way down to his room instead. He was your Jamie, your baby, you were finally coming back to him. Bucky pulled back the covers, setting you down carefully before climbing in with you when you tugged his wrist. Your eyes were still closed, the throbbing in your head slowly dissipating though not gone entirely as you snuggled against his chest, letting out a content sigh.

"Bucky?"

"Yes doll"

"I remember"

Bucky stirred awake to the sound of a whimper, his brows knitting together into a frown when he felt your body tremble in his hold.

"What is it baby?" Bucky's deep sleep laced voice carried through the darkness as he pulled you closer, soothing your sniffles. "Why are you crying darling, c'mere"

"Y-you didn't give up on me" Your emotions got the best of you, remembering everything from the moment everything went dark, to the panicked voices around you to the way Bucky had stayed by your side through it all, nursing you back to health while his own heart was hurting.

"Never doll, I'd never give up on you" Bucky said sincerely, kissing your forehead while stroking your hair, "How could I when I love you to much"

"But I-I didn't remember you-you still love me?" you whispered, feeling guilty that it had taken you so long to regain you memories and feeling more guilty that you couldn't remember Bucky for so long.

"Y/n, angel, I'd love you no matter what, do you have any idea how badly I wanted to tell you that for these past few weeks? That's all I wanted to do baby, just hold you and tell you how much I adore you-

You couldn't put into words how much love you had for him in that moment, cutting him off with your lips pressed onto his. The kiss grew more needy, hands desperately grabbing each other; you needed Bucky to know just how much you loved him too, feel every bit of what you couldn't say with words.

"Baby, let me- Bucky was ready to take care of you but that wasn't what the night was about. Not after all he'd done for you.

"No" You shook your head, gently pushing Bucky to lay on his back, straddling yourself on top of him, "Let me take care of you for taking care of me" you murmured against his lips before pressing them against his heated skin, tracing your tongue along the column of his neck. "Please Jamie, let me show you"

"D-doll-I-I can-

"Just let me Sergeant, please" You shimmed out of your oversized t-shirt before slipping your thumbs into the waistband of his briefs, puling them down, leaving him perfectly bare under you. Bucky wasn't typically a shy person but the way you gazed at him with such love made him blush, his thighs tensing when you settling yourself between them.

"Sweetheart you don't have to-oh-f-fuckkk" His words melted into a deep moan, feeling your lips wrap around the swollen head of his cock, your tongue probing his slit, lapping up every bit of precum that dripped out.

You worshipped his cock with your mouth and tongue, making him feel pleasure like never before, your hand softly rubbing and rolling his balls. You pulled off with a pop just to dip your head lower, nursing on his heavy sack, the slutty, needy moans he was letting out growing louder.

"B-Baby, g'nna cum if you don't stop" His thighs spread apart further for you, back nearly arching off the bed as you licked a thick stripe from his balls to the tip of his cock, crawling back up his body to line your soaking cunt up with his length.

"Please y/n" Bucky blinked at you with glassy, lustful eyes, rutting his hips up to feel more of you, his hands flying to your thighs, needing to touch you.

"Anything for you baby" you cooed, gasping at the feeling of his tip catching against your hole, throwing your head back as you began to sink down on his cock, the both of you moaning together at the feeling of him stretching you open.

You began to grind your hips down on him, your clit rubbing against the curly hair at the base of his cock before slowly picking you pace up, your hands resting on his chest for leverage.

"Feel's so good princess" Bucky's eyes rolled back as you started to bounce up and down, practically squealing each time you slammed yourself back down, obscene squelching noises filling the room.

"You deserve it sergeant" you whimpered, letting Bucky's hands roam your body, grabbing and pinching your nipples, your tight cunt squeezing his cock.

"C'mere baby, c'mere please" Bucky pleaded, pulling you down to his chest and wrapping his arms around you, planting his feet against the bed so he could fuck up into you, "Fuck that's it, mark me up!"

Bucky could feel you nip and suck on his neck hard enough to leave bruises, your words starting to slur as you both got closer and closer to your highs.

"F-fuck I love you!" you cried out, biting down hard on Bucky's shoulder as you started to cum, the head of his cock hitting your g-spot with each thrust, his pace growing sloppy.

"I-I love you princess, I love you so much-God m'gonna cum-fuck-s'so much for you-HNGG" He clung onto you like his life depended on it, shoving his cock in as deep as it would go, ropes of his warm spend shooting into you.

"I love you so much Jamie" your pussy clenched around his softening cock making him jolt, the both of you panting, pressing light kisses on sweat slicked skin. "Fell in love with you twice Sergeant"

Bucky blushed before throwing you a cocky smirk, still feeling happiness beyond what words could explain having you in his arms again.

"I'll always love you" Bucky whispered before pulling the covers up over both of you once again, staying deep inside you as you started to drift off to sleep, "No matter what"

1K notes · View notes

demxters · 1 year

Text

—LOVING YOU IS THE ANTIDOTE

frat!jake seresin x f!reader

dagger squad college!au

summary: you didn’t like jake seresin. you tolerated him. if you hadn’t befriended bradley bradshaw, you wouldn’t have given him the time of day. he was everything you weren’t. delta chi’s golden boy, popular, desirable, and a charmer. you did not like jake seresin. so why did it hurt when he didn’t want you?

wc: a monstrous 8.6k

warning(s): 18+, fem!reader, no y/n (reader goes by nickname ace), mentions of sex/hookups, alcohol and drinking, weed (briefly mentioned), self deprecating thoughts, jake is lowkey an asshole, and language

𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊, 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

Whoever said group projects got easier in college don’t know what they’re talking about. If anything, group projects were the bane of your existence—the reason why you considered dropping out every semester. Being in your third year, you were just barely surviving the group project epidemic. This semester, however, had you at your wits end. All because of a stupid assigned group project.

You had an affinity for being a perfectionist. You were all work and no play. While many of your peers thought it was infuriating, you saw it as your best feature. You got things done. You couldn’t say the same for everyone else. A stick in the mud, a hardass, whatever they chose to call you didn’t matter at the end of the day.

“I’m telling you Nat, they’re imbeciles. The entire time we were exchanging contact information, I thought my head was going to explode from the idiocy spewing from their mouths.” Sitting in the busy dining hall, you rant to your best friend Natasha Trace of the absolute horrors of group mates you’ve been given for this assignment.

You met Natasha at a student mixer in your first year of university. The two of you hit it off immediately from bonding over your tastes for cheesy romance novels and an overly concerning obsession for Dr. Pepper and Smarties. Since then, you two became thick as thieves and haven’t looked back since.

“Maybe you’re being a little too quick to judge,” Nat counters, playing on the remaining peas on her plate with her fork. “You haven’t even given ‘em a chance yet.” That was Natasha for you, ever the voice of reason for your dislike of any person who wasn’t the three you were friends with.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms across your chest with a pout. “If you met them, I bet you would be saying the exact same thing. Besides, they’re frat guys. Isn’t that reason to hate them enough?”

“Why didn’t you lead with that? What’re their names? We can get Mickey to stalk them on Instagram or something.” Her eyes light up at the idea. She doesn’t even give you the chance to answer as she pulls out her phone, no doubt to text Mickey if he could do her a favor.

Mickey Garcia was another one of those close friends of yours. You met him at a Halloween Party where he showed up dressed as Poe Dameron from the later Star Wars movies. Your affinity for Star Wars and a love for Oscar Isaac drew you to him, eventually earning him the affectionate nickname of Fanboy. You introduced him to Natasha and the rest was history.

You swat at her hand, silently telling her to drop her phone. “No. We are not stalking them on Instagram.”

The sound of her text tone going off makes you groan. “Too late. Mick already said he’d do it. So, what are their names?”

You shovel another spoonful of mashed potatoes into your mouth before begrudgingly responding. “Bradley and Jake.” Their names taste like acid in your mouth. So what if you were being a little too quick to judge? You’ve done enough group projects to know this would end up being yet another you would be doing all by yourself.

Natasha’s quiet as she types up their names and sends them back to Mickey. Barely five minutes passes when she receives a response back. “Is this them?” She shows you her screen and at this point, you’ve learned not to question how Mickey could have possibly found them in the sea of Jake and Bradleys that go to your university–let alone pick out the right ones. You nod and she laughs, scrolling through her phone before moving to the seat next to you. “What did I tell you? He found their Instagram, Twitter, and Tinder profiles! God bless, Mickey Garcia.”

You push your head against hers, curiosity killing all resolve you had of not caring. The two of you go through their Instagrams and tagged posts like you were reading the morning paper. There wasn’t anything too surprising about them. It was everything you would expect from a twenty something year old guy in a college fraternity. You hated to admit, however, that they were attractive. You were probably too irritated in class to pay attention to how good looking they are. But that doesn’t dismiss the fact that you were still dreading to work with the two.

“See?” You tell Natasha, motioning to the photo she has pulled up of Bradley on one of his fishing trips. “They are grade-A assholes. Everything about them screams douchebag.”

“You gotta admit, they’re hot,” she breathes and you smack her on the shoulder.

“Natasha Monica Trace!”

Nat shoves you back before shrugging. “What? Don’t you agree?”

“Of course I do, but may I remind you that looks do not equal brains.” You snatch the phone from her grasp and exit out of Instagram.

Nat places a gentle hand on the crook of your elbow, noticing the tension in your body. “Just give them a chance, babe. What’s the worst that could happen?”

_______

You didn’t think it was possible to be friends, let alone acquaintances with Delta Chi’s favorite heartbreakers. Three months and two parties later, you found yourself tolerating your fellow project partners. Then the impossible happened. Bradley Bradshaw and Jake Seresin proved your first impression of them wrong. Well, Bradley did. Jake was the preppy douchebag you suspected him to be. He sat back while Bradley and you pulled his weight. You hated him and his dimpled, Hollywood smile. You hated those lips that knew exactly what to say to get anyone in a three foot radius on their knees. Not to mention those annoyingly green eyes of his.

Once the project was complete you thought you’d never have to interact with them ever again. Oh, how wrong you were. If only you hadn’t offered up your apartment to complete the assignment. Then they wouldn’t have met Nat, Mickey, and Bob. They wouldn’t have invited them to their stupid frat party. You wouldn’t have been forced to see them outside of scheduled study time and your friends wouldn’t have fallen perfectly in line with theirs.

Though you will admit, they weren’t all bad. Surprisingly, you actually appreciated most of their company. Underneath Bradley’s frat boy personality, was a secretly brainy political science major and one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. His other friends, both from Delta Chi, also became fast additions to your little group. Javy Machado and Reuben Fitch were charmers and they knew it. But they were kind and didn’t have an obnoxiously large ego that most frat boys had.

You loved them all, but you couldn’t stand Jake Seresin. No matter how badly he tried to get on your good side, you wouldn’t have it. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of being another person to fall victim to his charm.

“Well Ace, you’ve somehow managed to ruin the fun. Again,” Jake deadpans from where he sits across from you at the coffee table. He bet that you couldn’t beat him at a round of chess. You took that challenge and beat him in three rounds.

A smug smile overcomes your features as you get up from your criss-crossed position and do a little happy dance at Jake’s obvious disappointment. “Snooze, you lose, Hangman.”

He groans at the appointed nickname you gave him two weeks into knowing him. Jake had been bragging about his latest sexual escapades and Bradley said something along the lines of him leaving his catch of the day hanging, disappearing before morning. The nickname stuck and became universally used within your friend group.

You miss the slight upward tug of his lips when you turn around and head to the kitchen to grab another bottle of water.

Bob, who had been observing each match and quietly serving as referee, broke Jake out of his reverie. “You went easy on her.”

Jake avoids Bob’s inquisitive stare and focuses on the faded chessboard. “No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did,” he quips, matter of factly. “I’ve seen you play against Bradley. You’re better than that.”

“Well, maybe I didn’t want her to feel bad for losing,” He shrugs, nonchalantly.

“Or maybe you just like seeing her win.”

Jake chucks the pillow he was sitting on at Bob, quickly shutting him up with a squeak. You make your way back to the table, eyeing the two boys at their strange behavior. “You up for one more round, Seresin?”

He checks his watch. “Can’t. Have a thing with Sarah tonight.”

The information makes your heart drop just a little bit in your chest, but you regain your composure. You clear your throat and harden your features. “Oh. Have fun at your…thing.” He didn’t have to tell you it was a hookup for you to know it was a hookup. He had “things” every week, which is why you didn’t understand why this time hurt you just a little more.

The room is silent after Jake leaves with you washing the dishes while Bob sits and reads on the couch. You anxiously looked to the clock that was incessantly ticking away on the wall, desperate for Natasha to get home. You loved Bob, but right now you needed to have some girl talk.

You exasperatedly sigh, harshly wiping your palms on the dish rag on your shoulder.

Bob hums, silently questioning what the matter was.

“Did Nat say when she was coming home?” You throw the rag on the counter and plop yourself down beside him. “I tried texting her but she hasn’t responded.”

Bob thinks for a minute, then responds, “Nope.”

“Well how long is it gonna take her to run this damn errand?”

One thing about Bob: he was a shit liar. The tips of his ears immediately got red and his blue eyes never had the guts to meet those he was lying to.

“Bob…” You scoot closer to him, noticing the tell tale signs of his dishonesty.

“What?” His voice cracks and so does his last bit of dignity.

“When’s Natasha coming home?”

One look into your narrowed eyes is all it takes to have Bob breaking his resolve. “Alright, fine. She said she was going to be out past dinner.”

“Why?”

The frown on your face almost breaks his heart. “She–well…” He hated lying to you, especially when you looked at him like that. Your little pout and wide eyes had him cursing silently. “She went on a date.”

“Oh.” Your brows screw up in confusion. “Then why didn’t she just tell me?”

Bob cringes. “Don’t tell her I told you, otherwise she will kill me.”

You hold your pinky out to him with a small smile. He links his with yours and the two of you press a soft kiss to your fisted hands before pulling away.

“Alright, fine. She didn’t tell you because she’s going on a date with Javy,” he rushes out.

You blink, processing the information. You and Nat told each other everything. Why did she feel the need to hide this from you? You voice your thoughts out loud and Bob shakes his head.

“She thought you were gonna blow up at her for going out with him. You know, because he’s Jake’s best friend and all.” Bob watches you cautiously. Your temper was unpredictable sometimes. One second you would be fine and the next you would be blowing your top off. He wasn’t sure which side of you he was going to get this time.

A sniffle leaves you and you wipe at your nose with the back of your hand. “Why would I get mad at her for that?”

“Because you haven’t had the kindest of opinions towards women who date frat guys, especially Delta Chi ones.”

You vaguely recall that conversation. You had called those women “airheads who are addicted to sex.” But you didn’t mean it. You were drunk and bitter about the fact that you were in your third year of college and still single. Had you known Nat wanted to go out with Javy, you would’ve kept your big mouth shut. “But I like Javy,” is all you can say.

Bob nods. “Yeah, but you hate Jake.”

Your gaze snaps back to him. “So?”

“So, she thought going out with him was like… I don’t know. Fraternizing with the enemy?”

“But Javy’s my friend. I don’t care about how close he is to Hangman. He isn’t like him,” you huff. Pulling your knees to your chest, you take a deep breath. “If he makes her happy then…she should go out with him. I just wish she told me.”

Bob wraps his arm around you, tugging you so your head could rest on his shoulder. He knew there was more to this than you let on. But he let it slide, choosing to comfort you in your conflicted feelings. “When Nat gets home, you should tell her that.” “I will,” you murmur into the fabric of his sweatshirt.

He presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “Good.”

It’s at that moment that the apartment door swings open, revealing Mickey with Jake in tow. Your head snaps up and you see Jake standing there with his mouth agape.

Mickey nods at you and Bob in quick greeting before pointing a thumb at the man behind him. “Idiot forgot his jacket again. It’s a good thing he caught me in the parking lot.”

You laugh awkwardly, stiffening in Bob’s hold.

You feel his arm drop from around your shoulder as he clears his throat, looking away from Jake.

“Sorry,” Jake’s voice is rough and there’s a look in his eyes that you can’t quite place. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Bob waves him off. “It’s all good. You weren’t interrupting anything. Right, Ace?”

You can only nod dumbly, still not taking your eyes off of Jake’s vibrant green.

Jake clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth. “Alright. Well, thanks again for letting me in, Mick. I’ll um, catch you guys later I guess.” He steals one last look of you snugly wrapped up in Bob before rushing out the door with a small shake of his head.

Jake doesn’t speak to you for a week after that.

_______

The tune of Slow Ride hits your ears and you groan into your cup. Bradley looks at you in amusement from where you sit beside him on the stairs. The boys had decided to unwind from yet another stressful week with yet another Delta Chi party. You were pretty adamant on sitting this one out, mainly because you didn’t want to see Jake or his new conquest of the week. Things have been tense to say the least. The fact that you and Jake didn’t get along wasn’t new to the group, however as the days passed, your nonstop bickering eventually turned to tolerance for one another. Enough to almost say the two of you were even becoming friends.

Jake still annoyed you to your core but his company somehow managed to grow on you. Which is why his sudden radio silence upset you. It got to the point that you couldn’t even look at him without seeing red.

“This is stupid,” you grumble, taking another swig of the cheap beer in your cup. You hated these parties. Normally, your friends wouldn’t mind you opting out to stay home instead. However Nat had noticed how your sour mood progressed throughout the week and concluded that you needed to get out to places that weren’t the lecture halls. She begged you to come with her to the party Delta Chi was throwing this weekend. For me? she pleaded, knowing just how much you hated saying no to her. Now that you were here, you longed to be back in the confines of your apartment, snuggled under your covers with a cup of tea and Emily Henry to keep you company.

Instead, you found yourself crammed in a two story frat house that was filled to the brim with sweaty and intoxicated bodies. The music was too loud and the smell of alcohol and weed was sure to be stuck on your clothes by the night’s end. The only thing keeping you sane was Bradley’s company and you knew that as the night progressed, even he would soon disappear.

“You want me to take you home?” Bradley asks, leaning down to your ear so you can hear him.

You shake your head, pushing at his shoulder. “It’s fine. Besides, I have a feeling you’re gonna get lucky tonight, Bachelor.” You nod towards the blonde in the corner of the room whose eyes haven’t left Bradley since the two of you migrated to the staircase.

He was practically drooling under the dimmed lights as he followed your motions. Bradley sends the girl a smirk before looking at you wordlessly.

“Go,” you urge him with a laugh.

He lets out a breath, downing the rest of his drink and giving your knee a squeeze. “Thanks. I owe you!”

You playfully roll your eyes. “Yeah, whatever. Be safe!”

Bradley winks at you over his shoulder. “Always am!”

The small smile on your lips fades as you watch Bradley go and flirt with the pretty blonde. You were never the center of attention, never the type that anyone gave their time of day to. You were average. Plain boring. The constant reminder of that was there when you hung out with the boys. You loved them, but hearing the way they talked about other girls did take a stab at your self esteem. You used to make fun of them with Natasha but then she started dating Javy, and became one of those girls. And you don’t blame them, your best friend was gorgeous. Anyone with eyes could see that. You convinced yourself that you liked the lack of attention and isolation. But every now and then, you wished someone saw you and thought, Wow. Now that’s someone I want to be with.

You push yourself off the carpeted stairs, deciding to find Reuben or even Nat and Javy. The cup in your hand is empty anyways. Might as well get a refill while you’re at it. You can barely move through the sea of people that are packed into such a small space. People were grinding against each other left and right, making you want to hurl. You push your way through the kitchen, finally making it to the open patio where beer pong tournaments and sloppy make outs occurred. The cold, night air feels nice against your hot and sweaty skin. You close your eyes, leaning up against the wall and drown out the music and laughter around you. Peace. You just needed a moment of peace.

You’re too caught up in your own little bubble to notice the presence that saunters up beside you.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?”

The voice startles you from your moment and your eyes snap open. A hand reaches up to your racing heart and you turn to meet the source of your sudden adrenaline rush. The man beside you is familiar, you’ve seen him once or twice on campus and at other Fraternity events the boys had invited you to. Not to mention, incredibly good looking as well.

He holds a hand up, almost like he was trying to calm a rattled horse and sheepishly smiles. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You swallow, sharply exhaling and squeezing your plastic up in your hand to ground yourself. “It’s alright.” You avoid his gaze and nervously pick at the chapped skin of your lower lip.

“Billy Avalone,” he introduces himself with a confident grin. “I think I’ve seen you ‘round with Seresin and Bradshaw.”

You finally look up to meet his gaze and offer him a dry smile. You offer him an introduction of your own. “Nice to meet you.”

Billy ever so smoothly scoops up your free hand in his and places a soft kiss to the upside of your hand. Your cheeks heat up at his delicate touch and your knees almost buckle at the glimmer in his eyes. “Trust me, the pleasure is all mine.”

His manners make you chortle and you snort, pulling away from him to hide behind your smirk behind your palm.

Rather than drawing away from you, he finds himself intrigued and raises a brow at your amusement. “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” you say in between laughter. You grasp your cup with both hands before looking at him with a much more genuine smile on your face. “It’s just… You are not what I expected from a Delta Chi.”

He nods knowingly, remembering your association with Jake and Bradley. “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.”

There was that ego you were looking for. But it doesn’t deter you like it normally would, in fact you find yourself leaning into him. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You shut your mouth immediately after that, quite surprised by your sudden burst of confidence.

Billy leans into you just as much, letting his hand brush against your forearm. It sends a shiver down your spine and goosebumps arise on your bare skin. “Nice try, but that’s to be revealed only if you agree to go on a date with me.”

There was no malice in his tone, no laughing idiots around to signify that anything about this was a joke. The look in Billy’s eyes was full of genuine hope and for the first time that night, you find yourself forgetting all about Jake Seresin and immerse yourself in the idea of Billy Avalone. He was charming and attractive. Lean, but broad enough for you to tell that underneath the jacket he wore was all muscle. You found it hard to believe that Billy had any interest in you and yet, here he was, asking you out on a date. Any other day, you would’ve taken a hard pass.You would’ve told him to move along and put his energy into another person who would consider saying yes. But then you think of Nat and Javy and just how utterly lonely you feel, deciding that Billy was worth the chance and the risk.

You open your mouth to respond, but stiffen at the feeling of warmth that encapsulates your back. You don’t need to turn to know exactly who it is. The familiar scent of laundry detergent and cinnamon washes over you and you resist the urge to fall into him.

“Billy,” Jake greets, his voice dropping an octave as he leans in closer to you. His chest just barely brushes against your back sending a new wave of warmth to your neck and cheeks.

“Hey, Jake.” Billy’s gaze flicks to Jake’s before he focuses his attention back on you, still eagerly waiting for your response.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the feeling of Jake’s hand on your lower back and you turn to look at him with furrowed brows. His usually well kept hair was stuffed under his backwards baseball cap and despite the chill of the night air he was in nothing but a t-shirt and jeans.

The air between the three of you is heavy as Billy tries to dismiss Jake’s presence. “So, what do you say about that date?” He smiles at you sweetly, rocking back and forth on his heels.

Before you can utter a response Jake steps in front of you and blocks you completely from Billy’s view. “Let’s get out of here, Ace.”

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You scoff, balling your hand up in a fist to resist the urge to slap the back of Jake’s perfect head. “Excuse me? Seresin, will you knock it off?”

He ignores you, taking a step closer to Billy. Jake straightens his spine. “She’s off limits. Got it, Avalone?”

“Well, shit, Jake. If that’s your girl, why didn’t you just say so?” Billy gives you an apologetic look from over Jake’s shoulder.

Jake huffs, almost like an angry bull. “Off. Limits.”

You frown, adamantly shaking your head. “Wait, Billy. I am not his girl.”

“No, it’s alright. I’m sorry I even asked. I’ll see you around, I guess.” He knew better than to pick a fight with Jake Seresin. His defeated gaze darts to the floor before he makes his way back into the house.

Your chest is heaving as you watch Billy walk away. You don’t know whether you want to cry or scream more. You decide on the latter, not deeming Jake worthy of your tears.

Jake turns to face you, still smiling proudly to himself. His face slightly falls when he meets your eye. He knows well enough that you were not happy. “Ace?”

You push at his shoulders. “What the fuck, Hangman?”

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Hang on–”

The palm of your hands make contact with his broad shoulders once more. “Are you kidding me?” You shove him again but Jake’s hardened features don’t falter. “Who gave you the right? Someone was finally interested in me and you just had to drive them away. Your ego really couldn’t handle the fact that I was getting attention. Is that it?”

“Ace, wait.” He tries to reach for you but you slap his hand away.

“No, fuck you, Seresin. You can’t…” Your resolve breaks and the tears that sat on your lash line spill over. “You can’t just ignore me for a week only to talk to me after chasing away the one chance of a boyfriend I’ve got. That’s not fair.”

“You don’t understand. Billy isn’t good enough for you.”

“Yeah?” You look at him with tear stained cheeks. “Then humor me. Who is?”

Jake’s words get caught in his throat as he watches you wipe your tears away with the palm of your hand. He wanted to take your face in his hands and brush those tears away. But he knew you wouldn’t let him.

“That’s what I thought.” You brush past him, knocking his shoulder with your own. “I’m not like the other girls you mess around with. I know that. But that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to feel wanted too.”

He calls after you, realizing just how horribly he screwed up. But you continue on back inside, probably trying to find Nat or Reuben to take you home. He knew that you weren’t like the other girls. You were different, you were better. You were everything he wanted and more. From the moment he met you, he was hooked. It scared him at first. You were the complete opposite from the girls he usually set his sights on. You were hard headed, independent, unafraid to call him out on his bullshit. You challenged him and he liked that. You weren’t shallow like everyone else and you made him feel seen.

He never thought a group project would lead him to you. You iced him out at first, and admittedly he knew he deserved that. Then he got to know you and he realized he never wanted to stop. Jake wanted to be the one on the receiving end of your jokes and the affection you gave to those close to you. He dropped his asshole attitude and made the effort to get you to see the real Jake Seresin. And it worked. He was doing so well to finally get you to let your guard down around him. Yet all that work, all that progress, went down the drain because he couldn’t keep his emotions in check.

By the time Jake caught up to you, you were dragging Natasha out the door with Javy on your tails. His heart dropped to his stomach and he wished he could turn back time to one week ago. Before he hurt you and made you cry.

_______

Your goal was to forget Jake Seresin ever existed. You threw yourself into your work, locking yourself in your room and spending more time in the library than your own apartment. Now that Nat was officially with Javy, the boys were around more often and you just weren’t ready to face him yet. It wasn’t fair to everyone else, you knew that. But it was easier for you to push them away. You turned back into that academic machine you were before Bradley and Jake forced you out of your shell. You didn’t party, didn’t go out, didn’t join the gang for movie night. Your new friends were your coursework. And when that ran out, you turned to your favorite show reruns for comfort.

You ignore the series of knocks on your door for the third time tonight. Natasha sighs in defeat, turning back to the group with a shake of her head. “I told you. She’s not coming.”

Reuben frowns. “Did you tell her Jake wasn’t coming with us?”

Everyone was aware of your complicated relationship with Jake. The small dance the two of you did was obvious to everyone but yourselves. It was only recently that Jake finally admitted why you’ve been hiding yourself away. If it weren’t for Javy holding her back, Natasha would’ve tore Jake to shreds.

“I did.” Natasha knew you and she knew you were embarrassed for lashing out at Jake the way you did. Hiding was the safest way to avoid facing yet another humiliating confrontation about your behavior.

You’ve never spoken to Nat directly about your insecurities, but she saw them in the little things you did. Not bothering to wear extravagant makeup or clothing, putting up a hard front, and pretending not to care. Deep down she knew you cared about how you were perceived. You did care whether or not people found you desirable. You wanted the cliche, movie romance. You wanted someone to sweep you off your feet, just like Westley in The Princess Bride.

Never, have you let those insecurities break your spirit. Until now. She has never seen you so small. She didn’t understand how Jake Seresin managed to knock you down with just one hit.

But it has been nearly two weeks since the party and Natasha was done with your groveling and self pity. You were going to get out of your room and you were going to have fun.

“Just give her a second,” Reuben whispers, having just a little bit of faith left in you.

It was as if you felt the little piece of hope Reuben had left for you because suddenly, the door of your room swings open and a breath of relief leaves both of your friends. You had decided to come out and join them after all. Nat had told you it was just a casual hangout amongst your friends, bar Bradley and Jake. You settled on changing into an oversized Naval Academy sweatshirt you had thrifted and an old pair of faded jeans.

Nat hadn’t seen you in anything other than pajama tees and sweatpants so to her, this was a big win.

Reuben smiles widely at your appearance before coming up to you and gathering you into his arms. “There you are.” His words and affection pulls an unexpected giggle out of you, soothing Reuben and Nat’s nerves. “How’ve you been, Ace?”

You shrug, shifting in his hold as he keeps an arm around you. “I could be better. But I guess I could be worse too.”

Natasha hooks your arm with hers, taking you from Reuben’s grasp. “You ready to go? Javy is waiting in the car with Bob and Mickey. I was thinking we could go to The Hard Deck using your car. You know, like old times.”

That brings a ghost of a smile to your face. The Hard Deck was a place of refuge for you and your group of friends, despite it being a Navy bar. You and Mickey found it by accident, stopping over at the nearest institution because he had to use the bathroom really badly on a drive back to campus. The bartender, Penny Benjamin, was sweet and treated you all like her own children. You haven’t seen her in awhile and just knew a visit to your spot was long overdue. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

The drive to the bar brings a bit of your old spark back. Natasha had the windows rolled down while the two of you belted out your favorite songs at the top of your lungs. She filled you in on all the things you missed from the past couple of weeks, strategically leaving out any anecdotes involving Jake. Though, Nat hasn’t seen him much since the party. It seemed as if he was taken over by the spirit of an old Delta Chi member. He was slumming it with the sorority girls and stayed out late partying with the other guys of his Frat. Bradley had tried to snap him out of it, but he reverted to his old ways. Back to before they met you.

Upon arriving at The Hard Deck you exchange a round of pleasantries with the rest of your friends who were glad to see you finally out of, as Mickey had called it, your “Bat Cave.” You volunteered to grab some drinks for the rest of the party while they settled in your usual booth in the back.

You returned to the table with beers for the guys, a club soda for Bob, a Mai Tai for Nat, and a lemonade for yourself. The night was spent full of laughter and warmth as you found yourself slipping back into your natural groove of things. Soon, your once dampened mood started to dissipate.

“I’m telling you, there’s something going on with Professor Mitchell and Penny,” Mickey slurs.

The group erupts into chaos then, one talking over the other and you can’t help but laugh as you lean into Mickey’s side. You missed this. You were so hard headed that in the process of blocking one person out, you put it upon everyone else. But you were here now and he wasn’t. That’s all that mattered to you.

Reuben is the one to calm the group down. “Alright, alright. You’re saying, P. Mitchell and Penny are… romantically involved. Where the hell did you get that idea?”

“DnD club meets here on Tuesdays and coincidentally so does Professor Mitchell,” he shrugs.

“Did you say DnD club?” Javy’s wheezing between breaths and Natasha has to slap him on the chest to get him to stop.

Mickey rolls his eyes. “I have a life outside of you guys, you know.”

“Yeah, but DnD club?”

“What’s wrong with DnD?” Bob chimes in, slightly offended.

Nat slaps him again. “Javy!”

“Right, sorry. Please, continue.”

“Actually, I don’t think I want to,” Mickey narrows his eyes at the man.

“Mick, he was joking. Please finish what you were saying.” You tap him affectionately on the shoulder with a gentle smile.

He attempts to continue his story when a smack to the tabletop catches all of you off guard. You tear your gaze from Mickey to be met with Bradley Bradshaw clad in one of his signature Hawaiian shirts as he leans against the table.

You give him a pained smile, knowing that where Bradley went, Jake wasn’t far behind.

“Good to see ya, Ace,” Bradley nods.

“You too, Brad,” you tell him softly. And you meant it.

The group falls uncharacteristically quiet and you feel Natasha give your knee tight squeeze.

“Didn’t know the gang was getting back together.” The familiar snark of the one person you didn’t want to see rings through your ears. Jake Seresin struts over with that stupidly cocky grin of his and unsurprisingly, another sorority girl on his arm.

No longer caring for pleasantries with the man, you roll your eyes. You hate to admit that it stung to see him with yet another woman. A small part of you hoped that maybe he’d show up empty handed and acknowledge your presence. That didn’t happen and it felt like a knife to the chest. What did you expect? Of course, nothing has changed since the last time you saw him. While you were feeling worse than ever about yourself, Jake had absolutely zero cares in the world. He only cared about himself, he always would.

Javy was the only one who had the stomach to greet him with a simple, “Hey.”

He chuckles, almost mockingly, as the girl on his arm tries to gain his attention and pull him to the bar. “Why weren’t we invited to the party?”

“Because no one wants you here, Bagman,” Natasha spits.

Jake brings a hand to his chest, acting hurt at her insinuation. “You wound me, Natasha.”

She gives him the finger in response.

“Now does everyone not want me here? Or is there a certain someone who doesn’t want me here?” He raises a brow and his bright green eyes land on you.

You avoid his gaze and you hear Bradley hiss Jake’s name.

“What? I’m just saying. It’s pretty obvious someone didn’t want me here and we all know who.” Jake doesn’t care that the girl who had been hanging off of him moments ago found someone else to play with, abandoning her post to flirt with another guy over at the pool tables. He had your attention and to him that was enough.

You feel a familiar sting behind your eyes, knowing damn well he was just toying with you at this point.

“Stop.” This time it’s Javy who speaks up, surprising Jake. “If you only came over here to be a dick then I suggest you leave.”

The light mood from earlier has completely died and you know that once he leaves, nothing can bring it back.

“Ace.”

He calls you out directly this time and you can’t hold it in any longer. All the hurt and anger he caused bubbles up to the surface. Part of you wants to talk to him, clear the air up a bit and give him a chance to apologize. The other part of you, the more rational part, decides to ignore him entirely.

You quietly ask Natasha if you could pass and her and Javy get up to stand to the side to let you through. You purposely angle your body so your back is towards Jake, announcing that you were going to get another drink before heading in the direction of the bar.

Jake moves to follow you, only to be stopped by his best friend.

Javy grabs his wrist with a disapproving frown. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Let go, Javy,” he absent mindedly demands. His eyes never leave your figure as you make your way through the crowd.

“No. You’re being an asshole, man. What happened to the guy who was repeatedly texting me to make sure she was okay? I told you where we were because I thought you were going to apologize. Not do… whatever that was.” Disappointment shines in Javy’s deep brown eyes.

Bradley slides into the space where you once were, watching what was about to unfold with the rest of them.

“Wait a minute, you told him we were going here? Javy!” Natasha looks at her boyfriend in disbelief.

“I’m sorry! This idiot told me he wanted to make it up to her.” He gestures blindly to Jake who was running a hand through his already disheveled hair.

Natasha snorts. “Unbelievable,” she swears under her breath.

“Nat–” Jake starts, but she cuts him off in an instant.

“No. You stay away from her, got it? She’s had enough of your games, Seresin, and quite frankly so have I.”

“I messed up. I know I did. But please, please just give me a chance to explain.”

He takes Natasha’s silence as an unspoken truce. “I care about her. So much that it scares the shit out of me. I was gonna tell her, you know. Then I saw her with Bob and I realized that she could do so much better than me. So I did what I do best. I pushed her away.”

Bob flushes red at the mention of his name.

“What is there to say about myself other than that I’m your typical, college fuckboy? The thing is, I was fine with that reputation. I was good at doing things on my own. Then I met Ace and I realized she’s my antidote. That girl gave me tunnel vision. Suddenly, I’m looking at my future and I want to do more with my life than be known as a college heartbreaker. The one thing I know to be true is that I want to be better with her by my side.”

“Why should I believe you after the way you treated her?” Natasha’s gaze narrows, still not fully convinced.

He swallows harshly. “You have every right not to. I wouldn’t believe me either. But you’ve got to understand that I never realized just how much she really meant to me until I almost lost her.” There’s a look of defeat that crosses his features, and his head falls to his chest.

Nat’s hardened stare falters ever so slightly. “To Billy. But wait, I don’t understand. What about that girl you came in here with?”

“Oh, she’s here for free booze. I needed to get Ace’s attention somehow.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

Jake nods, regret shining in his eyes. “I know. Listen, I’m not good at relationships.”

“Trust me, we know,” Bradley mutters under his breath.

Jake shoots him a quick glare before continuing. “I don’t know how to do them. For Ace, I’ll learn. I would do anything for her. Look, I know I’ve made mistakes and I need to fix them before it’s too late.”

Natasha was conflicted. She looks at Javy who meets her gaze with a soft smile. Then to Reuben and Bradley. Finally, her eyes land once more on Jake. She found herself in the same dilemma she was in before she started dating Javy. Their reputation precedes them. You were the one to warn her of Delta Chi’s womanizer ways. Yet she still gave Javy a chance and it was the best decision she ever made. She knew deep down that these guys had good hearts. No matter how much she wanted to deny it, she knew Jake did too. He was kinder with you, softer. You always brushed him off but Nat saw the way he affected you. He made you happy and you deserved to be. If she could give Javy that chance, shouldn’t she extend it to Jake too?

She groans with her head in her hands. “Fine. Fine.”

Jake’s eyes light up, clearly expecting another rejection. “Really?”

“Yes. But I swear if you hurt her again, if you break her heart, I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

His stomach churns at the thought, knowing full well that she meant it. “Yes, ma’am,” he salutes.

“Now go get her before it’s too late.” In other words, Natasha had finally given him her blessing.

Jake’s dejected state is replaced with one of determination. He mouths an appreciative thank you, before setting his sights on you.

“Forget DnD club, I need to hang out with you guys more often because that was better than a Netflix drama,” Mickey babbles, making Bob smack him lightly on the back of his head.

With her arms crossed, Natasha stares out the window wistfully. “I just hope he can make things right.”

Wrapping his arms around Nat, Javy gives her a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, he’s got this.”

_________

“Hey Pen, can you just tell Natasha to ride home with the boys? I think I’m going to head out.” You place a wad of cash on the bar top, signaling for her to close your tab.

The woman frowns, noticing the bothersome frown on your face. “You sure, sweetheart?”

Downing the last of your lemonade, you nod. “Thank you, for the advice and everything.”

“Of course. Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself, okay?”

A tight smile pulls at your lips in farewell. You push your way through the rowdy crowd, breathing deeply once you make it outside.

You curse under your breath. You didn’t know it was supposed to rain tonight. You eye your car in the distance, deciding whether to make the trek or go back inside until it stops. The sound of the door opening behind you catches your attention and your heart leaps out of your chest.

“Ace,” Jake Seresin calls out, desperately trying to reach you.

You throw all caution to the wind and run out into the pouring rain, too exhausted to deal with him right now.

His shoes squeak and splash through the puddles on the asphalt. Not caring that he was soaked to the bone, he runs after you. Jake calls out for you again but you continue on. For once, he doesn’t find himself admiring your stubborn attitude.

You throw a quick glance behind you, hoping to see that you’ve lost him, but Jake’s strides are longer than yours and he has closed more of the distance between you two than you thought. A shiver racks your form and your clothes are sticking uncomfortably to your skin. You find yourself regretting your decision but there’s no way you can take it back now. You shove your hand into your pocket, frantically pulling out your car keys once you make it to your car.

Jake sees you shiver as you try to unlock your car. You just barely get the driver’s side to open when he comes up behind you and presses the door shut. Your back is to his front and he pleads for you to turn around.

You hear him before you see him. You don’t want to turn around. You can’t. You know the second you look into his opalescent green eyes, your resolve will shatter. “Get off, Jake,” you demand impatiently.

“Please look at me, please.” The desperation of his voice startles you. Never, have you heard Jake Seresin say the word ‘please,’ and never have you heard him beg.

You’re shaking as you wrap your arms around yourself for warmth. You bite into your bottom lip to stop it from trembling. From the rain or from the tears that have started streaming down your cheeks, you are unsure.

“Ace,” he breathes.

His breath is hot against the skin of your neck soothing you from the cold. But still, you don’t budge.

Jake finds himself getting frustrated and he runs his hand through his damp hair, moving it away from his eyes. He can barely see your reflection in your car window, his vision blurred from the raindrops that cloud his vision. But the pale moonlight and dim streetlamp shows him enough to see that you feel just as hurt as he does, if not more. “Fine. You don’t have to look at me. I just need you to listen.”

You say nothing.

He exhales through his mouth as he recalls what he wants to say. “Remember when we first met and you asked me if I actually had a brain or if I just thought with my dick? That was the moment I knew you were unlike anyone else I’ve ever met. Usually, I’d have girls swooning over me left and right, but not you. You weren’t fazed by me in the slightest and that intrigued me. Everything about you intrigues me. Which is why I was so eager to get more out of you. I poked fun. I made jokes. I made sure that your attention was almost always on me because when it was, it gave me the best view of each and every thing you had to offer. Like the way you bite your bottom lip when you’re trying not to cry.”

Your breath hitches in your throat from his words, heart going faster than that goddamn roadrunner.

“Come on, Ace.”

How could you deny him when he spoke with so much conviction? You spin on your heel to face him. He’s soaked, just as you are, and yet you think he has never looked so beautiful. As you look at him, the ache in your chest doesn’t subside and you sniffle from the cold. “What do you want, Seresin?”

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out.

You look away from him. “I don’t need your pity.”

“Hey, I’m serious. I know I hurt you and I will never forgive myself for it.”

There’s a sincerity in his tone that throws you off. “Then why? If you feel so bad about it, why did you do it?”

“Because… Because I…” He’s nervous. Of all the times he has ever spoken to you, this is the one time he has felt this way.

Your patience is wearing thin so you shake your head and run a hand down your face. You were so tired of him holding out on you. “You know what? All I ever wanted was for you to look at me the same way you look at those other girls. Why wasn’t I good enough for you?” Once the floodgates opened, it was hard to get them locked up again.

You might as well have ripped his heart out of his chest instead of saying that. The effect it had on him would’ve been all the same. “Oh, baby,” he cups your face gently between his calloused hands and strokes his thumbs across the apples of your cheeks. The rain made it hard for him to tell which marks were tears and which were rainwater, but he treated them all the same. “Those girls have nothing on my Ace. You are more than enough. You are everything and I was too blind to see it until now.”

“What?” You whimper.

God, does he want to kiss that pout right off your face. “I don’t look at you the way I look at everyone else because I don’t want them the way I want you.”

“And how is that, Jake?”

That alone gives him a glimmer of hope. His heart skips a beat and his stomach erupts in butterflies.“You called me Jake,” he grins. “You never call me Jake.”

You scoff, not realizing the name slipped. “Answer the question.”

“I want every part of you. I want late nights and study sessions. I want to be the first one you call and the last one you text goodnight. The good, the bad, all of it. As long as it’s you.”

The honesty in his gaze makes you want to believe him. Because that’s all you ever wanted from him. So bad. But he has hurt you one too many times. You don’t think you’d be able to take it if he did one more time. “How do I know you won’t hurt me again?”

Jake takes the leap, resting his forehead on yours. When you don’t pull away, he confesses, “You don’t. But I will spend every day proving to you that I’m never going to make that mistake again.” He brushes some of your damp hair away from your face and admires how ethereal you look in this light. “One date, Ace. Let me make it up to you.”

You relish in his warmth, the aching hurt in your chest finally subsiding. The raging storm in your heart is finally calm. “One date. That’s all you’re getting.”

The smile that spreads across his face is the brightest you’ve ever seen. He no longer feels lost now that he has you. “That’s all I need, darling.”

For once, you believe him.

add yourself to my taglist!

tgm taglist (does not include ‘seasons’ tags): @joaquinwhorres @harrycherrylove @smoothdogsgirl

a/n: this was supposed to be short, yet here we are. i hope you enjoy frat!jake as much as i do <3 as usual, huge thanks to @briseisgone love u hun.

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x f!reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman x you #hangman x y/n #hangman x f!reader #jake seresin oneshot #hangman oneshot #frat!jake seresin x reader #college!au #demxters writing

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nataliasquote · 6 months

Text

Double the trouble [pt.2] | n romanoff

Double the trouble au: part 1, part 2

Summary: Natasha and Wanda's teenage twin daughters are a lot to handle, but despite their differences and arguments, there's nothing they wouldn't do for each other

Warnings: none

Pairings: WandaNat, O!C x Valkyrie, Y/n x Bucky Barnes

wc: 3.7k

note: thank you for all the love on part 1!

— ⧗ —

"I'm home!" Isla called out as she stepped through the front door, her bag and coat slipping into a pile on the floor. She'd get yelled at about it, but that wasn't her problem right now.

Wandering into the kitchen, thumbs typing away to her group chat, she almost walked straight into Natasha who was stood in the doorway.

"Thank you." The Russian said, plucking the phone from her daughter's hand. Isla looked up to protest but bit her tongue as she saw her mother. "So that's how I get your attention. Got that Wanda?"

"Noted." The other mother teased, winking at Isla who just groaned.

"I know, I'm sorry. I was just checking details for the party tomorrow." Both Nat and Wanda's eyebrows shot up at the mention of a party. It was the first they'd heard of it.

"Party?" Nat asked, taking a seat at the kitchen counter. "What party?"

Isla wandered over to the fridge and grabbed a can of Dr Pepper, opening it at arms length incase it sprayed in her face. She'd made a habit of doing that ever since she was 11, when Y/N shook a van before handing it to her and it went everywhere.

"I was just going to ask you if I could go to a party tomorrow night?" She smiled sweetly, fully turning on the charm for her skeptical moms.

Natasha narrowed her eyes. "Who's party is it?"

"Maria's."

Wanda's expression softened as she heard the name. They both knew Maria was a good kid, albeit incredibly feisty. It was no surprise she got on so well with their girls. "And who's going?" Natasha was the picky parent, always asking questions on their whereabouts. It was the inner spy taking control.

"Everyone I guess?" Isla said with a shrug, taking a sip of her drink. She hopped up onto the countertop and Wanda went to protest before thinking better of it. She might as well have it recorded with how many times a day she tells the twins to stop sitting on the counter. Nat often joked that she was a broken record.

"Is Y/N invited?" Isla nodded as she took another sip. "Speaking of which, where's your sister?"

Isla smirked immediately, a playful glint in her eye. "Bucky took her to go and get ice cream." She had to suppress her grin as much as possible, but Wanda and Natasha still saw straight through her.

"He's still trying to win her over?" Nat asked and Isla nodded, eyes wide.

Wanda's jaw dropped. She loved a bit of gossip. "Y/N still hasn't said yes? I thought she said that weeks ago?"

"You know how Y/N is with her feelings," Nat said with a sigh. "She keeps them closed off from just about everyone. That poor boy must really like her." Isla nodded in confirmation as if to say 'oh he really does'.

"Sounds like someone else I know." Wanda said with a knowing look, making Nat roll her eyes.

"Hey, I was a spy. There's a difference!"

"Clearly not," Wanda shrugged. "She's your daughter, now look!" She stood up from her chair and made her way over to the fridge to start on dinner, kissing her daughter's head as she passed.

"So, Ils, any news in your love life?" Natasha asked, clearly trying to steer the subject away from herself.

The red headed teenager shrugged shyly, suddenly not open to talking at all. Natasha smirked at her body language, knowing there was something to hide.

"Okay spill, cmon. Who's the lucky lady?"

"It's nothing." Isla defended, a blush rising to her cheeks. "She doesn't really know I exist either."

"Who is it?" Wanda had joined in now. Both women were curious to see what their daughter's taste in women was like.

"Well, there's this girl in my science class called Valkyrie and she's just- effortlessly cool, and badass, and she takes no shit from anyone-"

"Hey, watch the language misses." Wanda pointed her wooden spoon at Isla, who clearly wasn't paying attention. Her mind was lost in the images of Valkyrie in her mind.

"Wands leave her alone, she's in love." Nat teased, earning a swat with a tea towel from her wife. "She sounds amazing Isla. Have you spoken to her at all?"

Isla shook her head dejectedly, suddenly very interested in the skin around her thumbnail. "And it's no use. She's too cool for me. I'll just look weird if I try to talk to her."

Natasha watched her daughter's deflated body language and stood up to give her a hug. She pressed a kiss to her soft red hair and just held her for a moment. "Is she going to be at the party tomorrow?" Isla nodded into her mother's chest. "Then talk to her. You've got the perfect opportunity there. Plus, dress cute and she won't be able to miss you." Pulling away from the hug, Nat sent Isla a small wink, which instantly put a smile on the girl's face.

"Your mother is right, you know. No one cares what happens at a party. Just talk to her, dance, do whatever you want to. Then she'll see just how cool you are too."

Isla grinned at her moms, feeling completely surrounded by love in that moment. "You guys are actually the best. I got so lucky." Nat ruffled her hair before she was swatted away by Isla.

"Well at least one of you is getting women! Wands, we did something right!" The couple high fived like a pair of children and Isla just her eyes playfully. "I never thought we'd have a boy in the house."

"I have to make up for Y/N's straight-ness somehow." Isla exclaimed with a wink. Her comment made Wanda turn around, her hand resting on her hip.

"Y/N? Straight? Do you even look at your sister?" Isla shot her a questioning look and Natasha laughed.

"Ils, your sister isn't straight. She's definitely got some bisexual going on. I mean... the rings, the braids, the leather jackets- she's not straight."

"But- Bucky?!" Isla protested.

"Bisexual, honey. She can like both."

Isla thought for a moment, clearing trying to remember the vibes that her sister gave off. I mean, cmon, it's not like they saw each other everyday and lived with each other. "Okay yeah," she said after a long pause, "I see it."

"Good." Natasha glanced at her watch on her wrist. "There's about 30 minutes until dinner and then I need you down here to set the table. Sound good?"

"Yup." The teenager scurried upstairs after grabbing her bag and sat down to scroll on her phone, or do "homework" as she'd told her moms earlier.

Roughly 10 minutes later, Y/N wandered through the door, a soft smile on her face. She mirrored her sister, leaving her coat and bag by the door and wandering into the kitchen for a drink.

"Ah, you made it back alive. How was it?" Natasha had to keep her curiosity to a minimum, not wanting to pry too hard and make Y/N clam up. But she didn't need to worry; the girl seemed far too loved up to notice. Not that she would ever admit it.

"It was good. They had the best mint choc chip I've ever tasted!"

Wanda smiled and turned away from the pot she was stirring. "And how's Bucky?"

"He's good." Y/N's attempt at being casual was given away by the heavy blush that crept up her cheeks. "We had fun."

"Just good?" Nat teased, earning an eye roll from her daughter.

"Mama he's just a friend."

Both women shared a knowing look and Nat tried to stifle a small laugh. They were fun moms, always teasing and joking with their girls whenever the opportunity arose.

"Sure, mhm, just a friend."

Y/N groaned loudly, clearly done with this topic of conversation. "Okay, whatever. I've got homework to do." She turned to leave before Nat caught her attention, stopping the girl in her tracks.

"Oh, Isla told us about that party tomorrow. You guys can go but we want you home by-"

" -home by 2am. Yes we know."

"Good. Or I'll turn you both into pumpkins." Wanda teased, making Y/N roll her eyes before she disappeared upstairs like her sister did.

Natasha opened up her laptop and began typing away to finish off some emails she had been replying to before her girls came home. She had a wide smile on her lips and Wanda couldn't help but gaze lovingly at her wife.

"I can feel you staring at me Wands. Don't burn the food please."

"I'm not staring, I'm admiring. And I'm not you either. I don't burn rice." Wanda blew a kiss across the room to her wife who turned around rather offended at that last comment. "It's just cute seeing you so happy."

Natasha quickly glanced at the staircase, careful that neither of the girls were coming down. "It's the joys of young love." She commented wistfully, scraping her chair back to go over to her wife.

Wanda was about to turn back to the stove when Natasha's gentle grip on her hips kept her in place. The Russian pressed their bodies together against the cool countertop and slid her arms further around so they connected behind Wanda, pulling her even closer.

"You make us sound old, saying that." Wanda whispered, eyes darting between her wife's captivating eyes and full lips.

"We've got two almost-adults. We are old." Nat placed a gentle kiss to her wife's lips, not missing how Wanda relaxed into her touch even more. "You're still just as sexy and beautiful though."

A blush crept into Wanda's cheeks and it felt as if they were teenagers again, just in love as their daughters are. "Just stop talking and kiss me."

"Yes ma'am." Nat obeyed her command and connected their lips once more, this time not pulling away. They'd mastered the art of a silent make out, not wanting Isla or Y/N to hear them upstairs. This one was gentle, tongues slowly swirling around each other as Nat pressed her hips into Wanda, trapping her against the counter. Wanda had moved her hands up to cup her wife's face, the simple gesture setting butterflies off in the redhead's stomach. It was the smallest actions that sent her all giddy.

"You know," Nat husked, sliding her hands lower down Wanda's back as they pulled away momentarily. "We've got a free house tomorrow..."

She trailed off, allowing Wanda to piece together the images in her mind. The Sokovian shook her head at her wife's mischievous smirk. "Natasha Romanoff, you have such a dirty mind."

"Oh tell me you didn't think about it too."

Not wanting to confirm or deny, Wanda just kissed her hungrily again, taking Nat by surprise. Part of her wanted to continue this make out session, but with dinner cooking and the possibility of being walked in on, it didn't appeal to her. "Okay, you're distracting me here. So go, I've got dinner to make." She swatted Nat's ass as the redhead shook it as she wandered back over to the table, her tongue running across her lips, still savouring the taste of her wife.

"I don't need to be kissing you to do that." She wore a cocky smirk and Wanda wanted nothing more than to swipe it straight off her face.

"Damn right you don't. But if dinner burns, you're explaining the truth to the girls." That shut her up and Wanda smiled triumphantly and turned back to her cooking as Nat suddenly became very busy in her emails.

"Just you wait until tomorrow." Nat mumbled under her breath, her mind now anywhere but those damn emails.

— ⧗ —

"Blue or green?" Y/N asked for the third time as Isla continued to shrug. She had two different dress options for the party and so far she was miles away from picking one. "Isla please. Blue or green?"

Her sister sat on her bed clutching a bottle of white nail polish and was carefully painting her toes. She eyed the dresses carefully, imagining them on her sister. But they were both cute, so she just shrugged.

"I don't know. They'll both look hot. Just pick one."

Y/N groaned, clearly getting frustrated. "Just pick a colour. Blue or green?"

"Green will make your eyes pop." Came a soft voice from the doorway. Both girls turned to see Nat casually stood there, leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed. "The blue is pretty, but the green is gonna make you look even more amazing."

"Green it is then." Y/N said with a satisfied huff, hanging the blue dress back in her closet. Nat let herself into the room and took a seat on the edge of the bed, careful not to mess up Isla's nails.

"How are you girls getting on? Nearly ready?" Well, they both weren't dressed, but they were supposed to leave in 30 minutes and Nat knew just how often the women in that house rushed to get ready. She came to give them a gentle push, but also to see if they needed any help.

"I just need to wait for these to dry, then I can get dressed." Isla ran a hand through her perfectly curled hair. "Oh and touch up my make-up."

Nat nodded and fixed a curl that had got caught around Isla's earring, earning a grateful smile from her.

"Do I put my dress on and then do my makeup? Or the other way around?" Y/N was full of mini dilemmas today; clearly she was putting a lot of pressure on tonight. Maybe for a certain guy...

"Does your dress need to go over your head?" Y/N shook her head. "Then do makeup first. Then you can stay comfy." Y/N slumped down onto the floor and grabbed her make up bag, preferring to do her make up infront of her large, full length mirror instead of the smaller one at her vanity.

Soft music played from the tv and Nat just smiled at how domestic it all felt. Although the girls had separate rooms, they often came to get ready in Y/N's which was closer to the bathroom. Despite frequent bickering and small arguments, the twins got along well and it was a sweet sight to see Isla curling Y/N's hair.

"I'll leave you girls to it then. Who's picking you up?"

"Clint said he'd call because it's on his way. I think his mom is driving us there and back." Nat smiled softly. They'd always got along well with the Barton family, having been friends with them since the girls were small. Clint was one of their closest friends, and Nat could see why. Even she found the boy funny and witty, despite his rubbing jokes sometimes.

Nat stood up and moved back to the doorway, turning around at the last second. "Okay, well, don't be too long. Your mom and I have got a couple of bottles you can take. But don't go mad tonight girls, okay?" The twins answered her in chorus, reassuring her that they would be okay. They had smart heads on their shoulders and had built up enough trust with Nat and Wanda to gain the privilege of having alcohol at parties. The parents weren't super strict, but they wanted to keep the girls safe. Naturally.

25 minutes later, both girls were by the front door, pulling on shoes and quickly checking their hair and make up infront of the large mirror on the wall. Y/N was getting frustrated with her converse laces and was huffing slightly, pulling them so tight it looked as though the laces might snap.

A loud honk came from outside and Isla peered out of the window to see Clint leaning over the steering wheel of his mom's car, much to her distaste. She dashed out of the front door and down the porch steps, yelling goodbyes to her moms who just laughed as she left.

Nat pressed a pack of ciders into Y/N's arms, along with a bottle of vodka. That was always in plentiful supply in the house, so one bottle meant nothing.

"Be safe, don't do anything stupid." Wanda said to her youngest, pulling her into a quick hug despite Y/N's protests to leave. But her struggling was pointless so she accepted the hugs and kisses before making her escape towards the car.

Both moms watched the black Audi pull off the drive and they hugged each other close before closing the door. A cunning smile made its way onto Natasha's face and she quickly turned Wanda around and pushed her body against the closed door.

"A promise is a promise." She said, her voice dropping a couple of octaves. Sounding even sexier than usual.

Wanda gulped, feeling her heart rate speed up as Nat's lips trailed across her collarbone. She knew she was going to be worshipped tonight; her wife certainly knew how to make her feel good.

— ⧗ —

3 hours in and the party was in full swing. The living room of Maria's house had been cleared to create a large dance floor, teens crammed together as they jumped to the music.

Y/N leaned against the far wall, a red solo cup clutched in her hand. She was tipsy, but not as wasted as her twin sister who was heavily making out with Valkyrie in the middle of the dance floor. The sisters caught each others eye and Y/N pumped her fist, earning a middle finger from Isla who's lips were still locked with her crush.

Laughing to herself, she took another sip of god-knows-what and wandered out into the garden, longing for some fresh air and peace away from the thumping bass. Although she was a dancer, parties and dancing weren't her thing. She felt too stiff and awkward, but outside she swayed lightly to the beat, helped by the alcohol rushing through her system.

"It's nice out here." A voice spoke from her right. The tipsy girl looked over her left shoulder before quickly switched to her right, a blush forming on her already flushed cheeks as she saw a familiar figure approach. Thank god for the dim lights.

"Yeah." She'd be kicking herself at that lame response, considering who she was talking to. "You okay?"

Bucky smiled, leaning on the back of one of the metal garden chairs. He looked hot, his shirt unbuttoned down to the centre of his chest and his hair gelled slightly but still the soft brown colour that Y/N had grown to love.

"Better now that you're here." He knew that game was risky, but all this chasing around had made him tired. He wanted her, so he was going to get her. He stared at her for a few moments, eyes raking up and down her figure. She looked stunning. Her simple green silk dress hugged all the right places, accentuating her small waist and long legs. Her hair rested perfectly down her back and Bucky had to swallow thickly a couple of times.

"You're a flirt." She laughed, taking a sip of her drink and frowning as a droplet rolled down her chin.

She tried to wipe it away but Bucky got there first, gently taking her chin in between his thumb and forefinger. He tilted her head towards him, making her entire body turn with the moment. Neither of them uttered a word, their eyes meeting like something out of a cheesy rom-com.

Bucky's thumb swiped across her lower lip slowly, collecting the spilled drink and brushing it away. He gazed into the forest green eyes staring back at him, admiring the tiny flakes of brown that lit up from the outdoor lanterns above their heads.

Y/N's breath was caught in her throat. She'd been dancing around Bucky for weeks, too scared to face her true feelings about him because the thought of that terrified her. But the alcohol in her system has cleared her foggy mind, bringing forward the thoughts she'd been pushing away.

She took a daring step forward, closing the tempting gap between them that spoke louder words than the music blaring inside. Nothing else seemed to matter as Bucky tilted her chin up and brought his lips to meet hers in a tentative kiss.

It was only peck before they pulled away, but something clicked between them both and their lips met once again, this time fuelled by more passion and lust, the nerves somewhere far away.

Y/N looped her arms around his neck and he slid his hand round to cup her cheek, careful not to disturb the kiss.

The whole world had melted away, meaning that Y/N failed to hear her sister stood behind the glass doors, jumping up and down and screaming with Valkyrie, Clint and Maria who were all ecstatic over the kiss that they'd been waiting for for months. They cheered loudly, high fiving each other with wide grins.

Clint handed Maria a $20 with a groan, his smile disappearing as he realised he lost the bed. The party host tucked the money into her bra and walked off with her head held high. Tonight has been a successful night.

— ⧗ —

After a rather rowdy car ride back home, Isla and Y/N stumbled out of the car, the latter thanking Clint's mom for the ride as the eldest made a 'run' to the front door.

She didn't even take her shoes off before she glanced around the house like a meerkat, desperately searching for someone to scream the news to.

Catching sight of the moms sitting at the kitchen table, Isla came crashing over, completely drunk.

"Mom! Y/N kissed Bucky!" Her voice was far too loud for 2am and both mothers winced slightly at the volume, before smirking at the news.

A very exhausted Y/N trailed in afterwards, her hands raised in protest. "No! That's not the only thing that happened!"

"Mom! I made out with Valkyrie!"

#natasha romanoff x daughter!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #fanfic #wanda maximoff x daughter!reader #wandanat #bucky barnes #wandanat x daughter!reader #marvel #king valkyrie #wanda maximoff x reader #double the trouble au

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lovelybucky1 · 8 months

Note

Neil trying to be cool to get the attention of a client (disinterested in him) being totally cringe and geeky with his movie recommendations

im a filmbro just like neil so i really resonate with this

my inbox is open for requests!

warnings: one mention of sexual content, mild mentions of violence, neil being a geek with zero rizz

masterlist

It’s not often hot people walk into Gumshoe Video. There’s the regulars, the families, the loser film bros who are there at least four times a week, the teens who try to rent pornos, and old people looking for the classics.

When you walked in, Neil almost dropped his fast food cup filled with Dr. Pepper. You’re exactly his type, and he pushed the other employees out of the way so he could be the one to help you.

“Hi, I’m Neil. How can I be of service?” he greets you, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. You look down at his name tag and note that it says owner underneath his name.

“I don’t need any help, thanks,” you smile politely and continue walking. You aren’t trying to be rude, but you had a long day at work and this puppy dog of an employee is only going to get on your nerves.

“Are you looking for anything specific?” he asks, following you down the aisle.

You sigh. “No, just something to watch.”

“We have a huge selection. What’s your favorite genre?”

You resign yourself to the fact that this man is going to be up your ass until you leave the store.

“I don’t know. Action? Comedy?”

“Well, right over here we have Fast and Furious.” You wrinkle your nose. “We also have The Dark Knight.”

“Uh, no thanks. The villains in those movies are always so cheesy.”

Neil hums and scans the shelves, looking at the collection of videos for rent. “If you want a comedy we have Daddy Daycare, Superbad, American Pie…”

“I think I’ll just look around myself-”

“Or if you want something classic, we have Citizen Kane, Casablaca, The Godfather, Apocalypse Now-”

“Look, Neil,” you sigh. “I appreciate the suggestions but I really don’t need any help.”

Feeling rejected but not letting it show, Neil nods and steps away. “If you need anything, I’ll be behind the counter.”

You nod and watch him walk away before turning to browse the movie selection by yourself. It takes you a while to find anything that you were interested in, but you settled on Friday the 13th. It’s not what you’d usually go for, but your life needs a little excitement here and there.

From across the store, you could hear the other employees ridiculing Neil for “striking out”, though you’d have to argue that he never even got up to bat.

When you walk up to the counter to rent the movie, no one is to be found. You look around and find a bell on the counter labeled ring for assistance. You hit the button and the bell rings, and immediately following the chime is a thud and a curse. You peak over the counter to see Neil crouched underneath it, rubbing the top of his head.

He stands up and looks at you, putting on a charming smile like he didn’t just embarrass himself.

“All set?” he asks.

“Yep,” you reply shortly, handing him the box.

“Friday the 13th,” he reads. “That’s a good one. You didn’t tell me you’re into horror.”

“I’m not really. Just wanted a change,” you reply, figuring if you engage in his small talk, he’ll let you off the hook sooner.

“Did you know this was filmed at a real summer camp in New Jersey?” You shake your head. “It’s still operational, actually. The only set piece they had to build was the bathroom; everything else was already there.”

“That’s really interesting,” you smile, lying.

Unfortunately that was the wrong thing to say, because it made him perk up. “If you think that’s interesting, wait until you hear this…” He ducks under the counter again and comes back up with another movie in hand. “Scream was based on a series of real murders in the 90s. Ghostface was based of the Gainesville Ripper who killed five students in Florida. He wore a black ski mask, which was the inspiration for the movie.”

Neil must have noticed your concerned face and stopped.

“Uh, sorry. I guess giving a stranger facts about a serial killer is kind of weird,” he chuckles.

He scans your movie, swipes your card and prints out your receipt. Before he handed it to you, he scribbled something at the bottom.

“Thank you for renting from Gumshoe Video. Have a nice day,” he smiles.

You give him a polite smile back and on the way out of the door, you look down at the paper in your hand. He wrote what looks to be a phone number, but his handwriting is too messy for you to make out the digits.

#neil lewis #neil lewis x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #watching the detectives

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ctallena · 16 days

Note

hii!! don't be shy posting anythin, that's cool when new people appear who write south park stuff! 🤍 can i request (f!reader) picnic headcannons with kenny, stanley and kyle? it can be platonic or romantic(sure, aged up), idc

sure!! thank u sm for being my first headcannons req anon !! 🤍 ill try my best with these bc i never was on a picnic so i have to use my imagination on how it works.. also i made this romantic, theyre like 17-18 here

⋆ PICNIC WITH MAIN 3 :

✩ — STAN !

this guy was so flattered when u asked him to go do a picnic with u

he was so excited he couldnt sleep

brought cookies and dr pepper...

its because he was walking around the store for like 30 minutes in denial of what would you like to eat 😭😭

like.. will u like it? what if youre picky? mostly everyone likes cookies so cookies it is

butttttt he brought money to the picnic too in case you need something

he picks a nice outfit for himself!!

and by that i dont mean a suit or anything like that... its just a tee that you once said you liked and his fav baggy jeans

so nervous before meeting u for the picnic. mostly bc of the food. what if youre not happy with the food he brought☹️

he brought a picnic blanket too tho!!

he tries to settle it himself but its sort of windy and he drops the blanket...

it flies away

but dw luckily he got it!!

he tries to settle it ahain but DONT trust him with that bc its gonna fly away again so help him pls😭

once its all settled he tries to make it romantic somehow?? he doesnt know how to be romantic without it being corny tho😕

so he just passes u everything u ask for!!

totally did not put the picnic basket next to himself on purpose..

with stan its mostly just giggles and stuff. he will hold your hand or hug you there and there but he enjoys just talking with you like he would with a best friend, if you know what i mean??

he kisses your cheek and thanks you for all the effort you put in everything <3

✩ — KYLE !

he suggests the picnic 🤗

kyle is the most organized one of them all

before the picnic he knows what to bring and what food you like

like what??? how did he know that?? did he put cameras around ur house or smth

or maybe ur parents just like him a lot so they told him stuff..

keeps checking if he has everything

he also brings you a flower!!

hes a gentleman😭

somehow manages to settle the blanket himself??

he also picked the perfect time of the day so it would be sunset

puts sm effort in to show you how much he loves you!! hes so sweet

brought like a backup hoodie for you just in case youre cold😕

he doesn't really like touching you in public, so expect a hug and a kiss from him only after it gets darker after the sunset

or if he thinks no one is watching

ike definitely wanted to go with you two

kyle said no

he wants it to be a moment just for you and him

ike still comes along with sheila "on accident" but for like a few minutes bc kyle begged them to leave you two alone😭

HE WAS SO EMBARRASSED THAT HIS MOM CAME TOO💔

he apologizes to you

its not like hes embarrassed bc of sheila, its just the fact that his MOM came, if u get what i mean

what more can i say?

besides that its all perfect !!

✩ — KENNY !

you suggest the picnic

he thought abt it before and wanted to ask you too but money... 😕

he immediately said yes and saved money just for that occasion

he knows what food u like

its because usually when you two hang out he randomly asks you stuff like "whats your fav food?" in that case

and he remembers every answer u give him🤗🤗

he brought food and you brought the blanket

he actually made sure to bring enough for the two of you

thats so sweet😕

he doesnt gaf abt public, he will show his love to you everywhere

so he has his arm wrapped around you most of the time

and also kisses your shoulder or cheek sometimes !!

he would do the rizz thing with "hey you have something there" while pointing at ur chest and then he would grab ur chin so u look at him and he kisses u

its just a joke tho😭

thats not a great way to flirt in his opinion

he would also chuckle before kissing u !!

sweeeeeeeet

after the picnic he offers to walk you to your home <3

he also holds your hand while walking

when youre about to leave he hugs you and thanks you for everything too🤗

fill my requests up guys!!

#south park x y/n #south park x you #south park x reader #south park #stan marsh x y/n #stan marsh x you #stan marsh x reader #stan marsh #kyle broflovski x y/n #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski #kenny mccormick x y/n #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny mccormick

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trashywritestrash · 8 months

Text

Brutal

Pairing: Avengers x Singer-Songwriter!Stark!Reader (platonic/family)

Word Count: 1,220

Warnings: Swearing, no specific age is given for reader, but she's between 18 and 21. Probably bad writing, heavy dialogue, song lyrics… Idk if half of those are warnings, but that’s what I’ve got.

A/N: This isn’t going to be the best thing I’ve written by a long shot. This whole thing is just like a daydream I have sometimes and I was encouraged to just write it out because maybe that would help me unclog the writers block. Honestly, I’ve just been drained lately and I don’t have the energy to be creative, so I’m cranking this thing out in the hopes that it’ll spark something. I’d call this a crack fic but I don’t know if it’s unhinged enough to qualify.

Song Reference: Brutal by Olivia Rodrigo

As the daughter of Tony Stark, you had been in the spotlight your entire life. So when you announced that you would be releasing your debut album as a musician, the internet was hyped up immediately. You didn’t need to promote it at all, but you still released small clips on social media and dropped a single before the release of the album.

The Avengers are close to you, they’re your big found family… But when they asked to listen to the album before the official release, you still said no. Obviously, they continued to ask and even attempted to bribe you, but you were adamant that they would have to wait like everyone else.

Finally, the album dropped. To celebrate, everyone gathered in the common area while you set up a camera to record their reactions as you all listened. In the living room sat your father, Pepper, Steve, Bucky, Sam, Natasha, Thor, Bruce, Clint, and Wanda. The “extended” team members like Peter Parker, the Guardians of the Galaxy, Carol, and Dr. Strange were listening on their own and simply texting you their thoughts.

“Okay, guys. Get your snacks and stuff now because I’m not going to wait ten minutes in between songs for you to grab something,” Tony bosses, completely impatient.

You chuckle, “You do know that I’m controlling the music, right?”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll have Friday override the speakers if I have to.”

“Alright, are we ready yet? Yelena is already trying to text me about it and I don’t want spoilers,” Natasha complains from her spot on one of the couches, bowl of popcorn in hand.

“Yeah, yeah, settle down.” Once everyone is sat, you take your spot on a stool by the camera, “Okay, if you need me to pause or rewind, raise your hand or something. Or listen to it again later on your own. I’ll pause between songs so you can get your comments and questions out. Sound good?”

Sam waves his hand, “We got it, just play it already, we’re tired of waiting.”

“Patience, Samuel. Alright, the first song is called ‘Brutal’.” You press play on your phone, which is bluetooth connected to the speakers in the room.

The song opens with classical instrumental music, surprising the group. They’ve heard the clips released on your social media, and this doesn’t seem to fit at all.

I want it to be, like, messy.

Suddenly the music is louder and faster paced, taking on a more punk rock sound. Tony grins wide, “That’s my kid!”

I’m so insecure, I think

That I’ll die before I drink

And I’m so caught up in the news

Of who likes me, and who hates you

And I’m so tired that I might

Quit my job, start a new life

And they’d all be so disappointed

‘Cause who am I, if not exploited?

Reactions across the room are mixed. Bucky and Steve look a little thrown off, not used to this type of music. Tony looks prouder than ever. Pepper and Sam look proud, but you can tell they’re not sure what to think about the tone of it. Natasha and Clint have “I told you so” written all over their faces. Thor is enthusiastic and smiling wide. And Bruce and Wanda seem to be trying to dissect and analyze the lyrics as they listen.

And I’m so sick of seventeen

Where’s my fucking teenage dream?

“Language,” slips from Steve before he can stop himself. “Also, you’re not seventeen anymore?”

“I wrote it a while ago and I decided to leave it like that. I wanted it to be truthful to where I was in my life when I wrote it.” The group nods as the song continues.

If someone tells me one more time

“Enjoy your youth,” I’m gonna cry

And I don’t stick up for myself

I’m anxious and nothing can help

And I wish I’d done this before

And I wish people liked me more

“Awe, sweetheart,” Wanda frowns. Everyone seems conflicted. Like they’re unsure whether they should be banging their heads or offering you hugs.

All I did was try my best

This the kind of thanks I get?

Unrelentlessly upset (ah, ah, ah)

They say these are the golden years

But I wish I could disappear

Ego crush is so severe

God, it’s brutal out here

You frown at how the mood was brought down by the lyrics. Quickly, you pause. “Guys, stop that. This is supposed to be a fun song.”

“It is fun, but you’re my daughter, of course I’m going to be concerned,” Tony pouts. “Why didn’t you talk to me about this stuff?”

“Because I didn’t feel like I needed to. I get these feelings out in therapy and in my songs, so it’s not like I’m bottling it in. I have some healthy coping mechanisms.”

Bruce takes the opportunity to speak up. “Some?”

“Nobody’s perfect, Bruce. You guys don’t need to know everything.” You chuckle to diffuse the tension, but resume the music before anyone can argue.

I feel like no one wants me

And I hate the way I’m perceived

I only have two real friends

And lately, I’m a nervous wreck

‘Cause I love people I don’t like

And I hate every song I write

And I’m not cool and I’m not smart

And I can’t even parallel park

“Are we not your friends?” Thor pouts, genuinely sad.

“You guys don’t count. You’re family.” That answer seems to appease them, but they’re clearly still concerned. The chorus plays once more before the music starts to wind down.

Got a broken ego, broken heart

God, I don’t even know where to start

The song ends, so you pause before the next one automatically starts. “What did you guys think?” You wait nervously for their response. They mean a lot to you, so you want them to like your music.

“I loved it, but the lyrics are kinda sad when I think about them…” Pepper admits cautiously, not wanting you to think she didn’t like it.

You give her a nervous smile, “I’m gonna be honest. Some of the stuff on here is sad. Some of it is probably gonna upset you… I don’t tell you guys everything, and there are some things in here that you guys don’t know about. I’m sorry about that; but the last thing I want is for you guys to pity me or anything like that.” Chuckling, you attempt to lighten the mood. “I’m an angsty girl. In this album I get a little sad, a little angry, a little petty, but try not to get too heartbroken over it. Please?”

“No promises, kid. We’re your family. We’re absolutely going to get protective.” Sam grins, keeping his comment lighthearted, even though he means every word.

“Fine, I’ll take it.”

Steve raises his hand patiently, “Are all of the songs this… upbeat?” He asks, unsure of what to call the sound.

“No, some of them slow down. But some of them are more punk like this. I won’t give you a heart attack.” He laughs at your joke, rolling his eyes.

“Okay, I think we’re ready for the next one,” Clint says, causing the others to nod. “Hit us with it!”

You laugh, pulling up your music app. “Okay, okay. Here we go…”

—————

If you enjoyed this or would like to read more of my work, please consider liking, reblogging, or tipping my Ko-fi!

#nel writes #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #platonic avengers x reader #marvel x reader fanfiction #marvel x reader fanfic #avengers x reader fanfiction #avengers x reader fanfic #x reader fanfic #x reader fanfiction #platonic avengers #fanfiction #fanfic #song fic #marvel song fic

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tw-inkl-e-tit-s · 1 year

Text

✩-Too Late-✩

A/N: Sorry, this is so short lol also I was trying to make it sadder.

Pairing: Miguel Cazarez Mora x fem!reader

Warnings: Cussing, and Angst

·̩͙꒰ঌ✞໒꒱·

Miguel lay on his bed, bored out of his mind. Not knowing what else to do he decided to listen to his fans and start a live since they have been on his ass about the lack of content lately. He walked to his bathroom to brush his hair and put it in a low ponytail, He then put on a hat. Before he set his phone up he decided to post something on his story about going live. He scrolled through Instagram for a little before he found his way onto tiktok, He was looking at your account, Admiring your beauty. "How can she be that gorgeous." He thought.

A notification popped up on his phone screen immediately grabbing his attention, "masonthamesofficial has posted on their story!" He clicked the notification and watched the video. "Hey y/n/n!" Mason yelled as he ran up to you, "What Mason?" You asked not noticing the camera in his hand. "I have a present for you," He giggled, You cocked a brow. "What is it?" Before you could blink you were being soaked by water guns from both sides. Madeleine and Brooke could be heard laughing as well as Mason who was stepping back to film the scene- also trying not to get wet- "Fuck you, Mason-" Miguel busted out laughing as the video ended, swiping up on the story and sending laughing emoji's (let's be honest he speaks emoji) He then sent the video to his sister Alondra who he knew would get a kick out of- since you and she are besties -Mason had replied with skull emoji's and said that Miguel should come up to visit.

·̩͙꒰ঌ✞໒꒱·

"Do I have six toes?" He laughed and shook his head, "No I do not have six toes." He continued to look threw all the questions his fans sent him, Most of them being about him and y/n. Miguel didn't know how to work shit on live so it was a mess, "Oh, Mason joined!" He smiled. He accidentally clicked on a question, "What? oh," He began to read the comment out loud "Miguel and y/n-" he stopped and smiled at the question, he deleted it and moved on. "y/n is beside me," Mason wrote, Miguel's face flushed red as he tried to hide his smile "what is my favorite drink? Dr. Pepper." he scrolled down a few more before getting a notification saying mason wanted to join the live. He felt nervous as y/n was with Mason, "Maybe she went home." he thought as he clicked on the accept button, Mason popped up on the screen standing on a counter with sunglasses on and a hairbrush in his hand.

"Uhh, you good bro?" Miguel asked laughing, Mason just stood there and everybody was sending laughing and skull emoji's in the comments. All of a sudden 'My milkshake' starts playing and Mason starts singing and dancing on the counter. Miguel was in tears at this point just laughing, "what the fuck is wrong with my friend" He thought. "Mason where is my hairbrush!!" Miguel froze as he heard your voice on the other side of the screen. Mason stopped and looked at you, You stood there looking breathtaking as always. "Gimme my shit back bro!" you yelled as you tried to grab the brush, "No!" Mason laughed as he held the brush above his head. "Fine, I'll be back, but I won't be unarmed." you ran off into Brooke's room out of breath. "Jeuse you good?" she asked, you shook your head no. "Mason took my hairbrush and I need it back." she got up and ran to the kitchen where she saw Mason singing into y/n's hairbrush in front of the phone.

She grabbed the Nerf gun and shot him, y/n grabbed her hairbrush that fell to the ground. "Ugh y/n what do you even need it for, you're hair is fine." He groaned as he got up, "I'm going on a date, I need to do my hair." Everybody's face dropped. Including Miguels, He felt sick and sad, angry at himself for not asking you out sooner. He quickly ended the live and threw his phone on his bed. The smile on her face when she said it, He should be making her smile like that, Not somebody else. Mason knew how much Miguel liked y/n and he was trying to get them together. He looked at his phone and saw that the live ended, He looked down and sighed. "I'm happy for you y/n/n" You smiled and walked away. He just knew Miguel was blaming himself for this right now. But Miguel knew he was too late.

#list: @istgpleaseshutup @bonezisdeded @weehelers @brokenphonewires @deadghosy @shreksmilk

#✩🎸Miguel Cazarez Mora🎸✩

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kvvzss · 2 months

Text

STOP YOUR WHINING.

a matt sturniolo fic; or is it ?

warnings: smut, fluff , overstimulation, aftercare, cockwarming ( sit on that dick sis 👅), softdom!matt/ chris , sub!reader, use of Y/N ( i have to.. i have no choice )

, cheating ( don’t do that guys it’s a fanfic!! )

plot;your youtube channel finally hit 4 million subscribers, as a ‘ treat ‘ from your boyfriend and his triplet brothers took you out for your favorite food, you were mad at your boyfriend for having a attitude with you earlier; but you know it’s not gonna last very long.

୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧ ୨୧

you and your boyfriend; matt sturniolo were in your room changing for your celebration, he had a certain look on his face as he was helping you get dressed.

‘ you like this, or this one. huh, pretty ? ‘

you picked out the outfit you wanted, which was one of his favorite shirts and some flared jeans with rhinestones on the two back pockets.

‘ what the fuck are you guys doing in there ? you better not be fucking again we got places to be. ‘ his brother , nick yelled from his room.

you and matt rolled your eyes and continued helping each other get dressed.

not too long later; you end up sitting on his lap at the diner, as a ‘ joke ‘ he slapped your ass and you turned to him glaring at him.

‘ oh, stop your whining, pretty. ‘ matt said.

‘ whatever. ‘ you said, rolling your eyes and listening in to the argument chris and nick were having over who had the best fit on.

since his shirt was obviously oversized on you. he pushed you up and pulled on your waistband on your jeans.

‘you want me to pull these down, pretty?’ he whispered.

‘ yes, please ‘ you nodded back in response.

he put the over sized shirt over your ass and pulled your pants down to get access to your already leaking entrance.

‘ i’m so fucked. ‘ you thought, hoping nobody catches you.

he pushed his shaft into you, letting you cockwarm him until later on, ( wink wink ).

‘ fuck. ‘ you said , lowly.

‘ what’s wrong, y/n ? ‘ his brother, nick asked in concern.

‘ nothing, i’m just starving. ‘ you replied, hoping nobody else asks you anything.

‘ me too, i’ve been waiting to come here ‘ nick replied back to you, doing a little dance earning laughs from everyone else at the table.

matt held your hips and whispered into your ear again. ‘ just wait until we get home. ‘

i’m absolutely fucked now.

you noticed that his brother chris kept giving glares at you two, as if he knew what was going on.

you then got a text from him, your face dropping immediately.

you then saw that he said that he didn’t want you to be all tied up when you got back , what did that mean?

matt was leaving out soon to go buy stuff from target and other stores for her gifts, and he only told chris.

you put your phone down and started ordering for yourself.

‘ and what would you like, ma’am? ‘

‘ uhm, i’d like the shrimp pasta please. ‘

‘ and what to drink ? ‘ the waiter replied.

‘dr pepper. ‘

the waiter walked away from the table to go get the food.

matt took his dick out of you slowly, putting it back in his boxers as you pulled back up your pants by yourself.

chris noticed this and smirked at you; he was awfully quiet this whole encounter.

chris let out a hiss as he put his hands over his pants.

later on; after everybody ate their food and celebrated her channels milestones they all got in the car. nick fell asleep ; chris was on his phone the whole time; brii fell asleep on chris’s shoulder by accident; and matt was the only one alert and awake

‘ okay pretty , i’m leaving out to go grab “ stuff “ you stay here. ‘

you kissed him and went into your room , changed into pajama pants and a regular shirt and your crocs chris got you years back.

you heard a tap at your door and got up and opened it; it was chris.

‘ what do you want ? ‘ you said, doing the handshake with him that you made.

‘ yknow what i’m here for, y/n. ‘ he said, glaring down into your eyes

‘ what do you mean, chris. ‘ you said, gaining a attitude.

he shut the door behind him, guiding you to the bed by your waist and laying you down.

you subconsciously leaned in to kiss him and he automatically returned the favor

he managed to slip his tongue into your mouth; your tongues basically fighting each other in your mouth.

he then moved his hand into your pajama pants, fondling with your sensitive clit.

‘ fuck. ‘ you said outloud, closing your eyes but trying your hardest not to give chris any of your attention.

‘ cmon, y/n. you know you wanna give me atleast some attention.’ he fake whined

stop your whining. you told him.

‘ oh really? let’s see about that y/n. ‘ he replied

then ; he moved down to your pajama pants, pulling them down and then also subconsciously pulling down your panties

you bit your lip, trying not to moan, playing this game of not giving him any attention.

‘ cmon, where’s my attention , ma ? ‘

he then started to tease your clit, making you whine quietly, atleast you thought you were being quiet.

he then got up on top of you, sticking his shaft inside you softly.

‘ tell me when your ready.’ ; he said, atleast he cared.

‘ i think i’m ready now. ‘ you replied

he then started to move inside you, already hitting that sweet spot for you. then feeling like it was time to move faster he did just as he thought; moving his hips at a faster pace. he gripped your hips as he started to go faster and faster.

you absolutely broke. ‘ oh fuck, chris ! ‘

‘ there’s my girl. ‘ chris said, holding the sides of your stomach

‘ fuck. ‘

chris kept going, speeding up multiple times and slowing down, teasing her. this caused you to whine about being teased

‘ stop your whining. ‘ he said,

chris then leaned in for a kiss, making her whine into his mouth.

she clenched around him signaling her orgasm, her legs started to shake.

‘ go ahead, cum for me. ‘ he said, then rubbing her sensitive clit to make her shake more; he started to get close himself, removing his hand from her clit and then scratching her sides, bruising her slightly.

after they both rode out their orgasms, chris took her to take a bath, running warm water for her, since she was already undressed he didn’t have to undress her all over again ; he placed her into the water .

‘ which soap do you want , pretty girl? ‘

she pointed to a scented soap , he poured it into her loofah and bathing her, letting her rest.

he then got some clothes laid out for her, dressing her and then placing her into her bed.

a/n first luh smut or whatever how u doinnn 👅👅

#Spotify #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #smut #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #brusies #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

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tea-with-evan-and-me · 21 days

Note

Kim Jong Un was shopping at some fucking random store in North Korea, when he found a copy of his favorite movie, Safelight starring Evan Peters.

"Boy oh boy, this looks like a swell time" said Kim Jong Un to himself before dropping the movie into his shopping cart.

Kim then went over to the checkout line before scanning it. The cashier then said "one copy of Safelight , that will cost you 50 cents."

Kim Jong Un glared at the cashier with a murder in his eyes. The cashier then nervously said "ok, 40 cents."

Kim Jong Un continued not saying anything. He just continued giving that glare as the cashier said "20 cents?"

Kim's glare got even more serious as the cashier said "ok its free! Please don't hurt me!"

Kim then happily put the movie in his pocket and began to leave the store. Before he left though, he looked at one of the many guards surrounding him, and made head cutting motions with his hands while gesturing to the cashier.

Immediately several guards grabbed the cashier while he yelled "NO, NOOOOOOOOOO!"

Kim Jong Un then went home to enjoy his new movie.

…

Kim Jong Un came home and pulled out his fucking dvd player. He put the cd in, grabbed some Caprisun, and plopped himself on his couch, prepared to have a good time.

The normal dvd title screen for Safelight, but instead of Evan doing his classic finger wagging pose, the notorious Jeff Ward from a Pegging to remember, showed up instead!

"WHAT DA FUCK IS THIS?" yelled Kim Jong Un.

"You gonna get raped son" said Jeff Ward before reaching through the TV and pulling Kim Jong Un in.

"NOOOOO! I AM KIM JONG UN, THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING TO MEEEEEEEEEEEEEE"

…

Kim Jong Un now stood in a new world, but this wasn't the world he was used to, rather, this was the X Men World of Marvel.

"Woah" said Kim Jong Un to himself.

Kim Jong Un then noticed that he was no longer human, he was now a sexy bitch.

"Wicked" said Kim Jong Un.

Suddenly, Jeff Ward jumped out of the bushes and attacked the leader of North Korea.

Jeff, Emma, and Francine began beating the absolute tar out of Kim Jong Un while the leader of North Korea was helpless to stop them.

Jeff was hitting Kim with a can of Strawberry Dr Pepper, Emma hit Kim with a rolled up Playboy Magazine, while Francine was hitting with his gargantuan ballsack. It was even more brutal than all of the fight scenes in the Deathstalker movies.

Then Kim remembered a technique that was taught to him by his father back when he was a kid.

"SUPER FIST OF THE SWEAT SHOP: MARCH OF THE ARMY OF CHILD SLAVES!" yelled Kim Jong Un.

As he uttered this, over one thousand mindbroken children came and began beating them all up, allowing Kim Jong Un to get away without the pegging pals noticing.

Suddenly, the iconic rad echidna, Evan grabbed Kim Jong Un and pulled him into a small shack.

…

"You're safe now" said Evan.

Kim Jong Un began squealing in delight at seeing Evan Peters in the flesh.

"I love you Evan Peters. I've had so many so many children in my country taken to slave camps for chuckling, since unlike Evan, you don't do any of that filthy chuckling."

Evan smiled at that remark before saying "I know we just met, but there's something I find really attractive about you."

Kim Jong Un and Evan looked into each other's eyes lovingly, before they embraced one another and began locking lips.

Kim's tongue entered Evan mouth like a deadbeat dad who wants to visit his kid at school while being unaware that his kid is actually a 95 year old prostitute, and Evan moaned like Nikocado Avocado when chomping a new bucket of KFC.

Evan then bent over Kim Jong Un, and instead of sticking his dick in his ass, he pulled out a can of Old Spice Body Spray and shoved it up the leader of North Korea's ass.

Kim Jong Un moaned in delight, pleasing Evan. Evan then pulled out a can of sprayable Oxi Clean and shoved that up Kim Jong Un's ass too.

Kim Jong Un once again moaned in delight before Evan decided to begin doing some anal fisting. Everytime he fisted Kim Jong Un, a cartoon sound effect straight out of Tom and Jerry would play.

As Kim Jong Un felt himself about to cum, Evan pulled out the sex toy to end all sex toys and placed it on his right hand.

The Power Glove

Evan inserted this holy artifact into Kim Jong Un's ass and Kim felt himself about to go to Heaven as Evan thrusted his fist in and out of the dictator's asshole.

Kim Jong Un immediately came and the Power Glove was so holy that Kim's cum was colored like gold.

"Thank you lover" said Kim to Evan.

"Anytime, now let's go and take down the pegging polyamorous group" said Evan.

The two lovers then highfived before going to go and fight Jeff Ward and his two whores to the death.

…

Jeff Ward had now killed all 1000 of the children that Kim Jong Un summoned to fight them and were now currently slaughtering all of the inhabitants of Mobius because they are super meanypants.

Kim yelled "JEFF WARD! WE'RE CALLING YOU OUT!"

Jeff stopped killing the woodland creatures before one of them said "so, it seems like you've come back for round two?"

Kim Jong Un said "yes, I'm here to wipe you from this world, once and for all."

All three pegging whores laughed before one said "and what makes this attempt different from the last one?"

Kim Jong Un smirked and triumphantly said "because I have been anally fisted with the Power Glove!"

Jeff just fell silent after hearing that.

No one said anything for five minutes. The environment was dead silent as the three stupid bitches were trying to figure out what the fuck he just said.

Finally, Emma spoke up and said "wut?"

Evan jumped out of the bushes and said "ready partner?"

Kim Jong Un said "you know it."

Evan then pulled out his trademark weapon, a bowling ball, while Kim Jong Un pulled out his iconic weapon, a can of SpaghettiOs.

The pegging pals then pulled out their trademark weapons too, flip-flop shoes, before rushing our heroes.

Kim Jong Un, Evan, and the pegging pals began fighting each other, hand to hand, and our iconic heroes were actually managing to do pretty well against these stupid bitches.

Francine screamed as Kim pulled out a fruit by the foot, wrapped it around his neck, before punching him off a cliff, causing the first stupid bitch to be hanged.

Emma yelled out in pain as Evan bashed him on the head with his bowling ball, before he slumped over, dead from brain damage.

Jeff screamed “ Nooooo you can’t kill me!”

Kim Jong Un responded to this by pulling the pin on his SpaghettiOs can and throwing it at the pegging thirsty bitch.

The can then exploded in a bright blast of noodly goodness, taking Jeff with it.

Kim Jong Un said "wow, that was a hard fight."

Evan said "yeah, I didn't think we were going to make it."

Kim Jong Un and Evan then looked at each other once again, before they immediately started going down on each other once again.

And you know what? Fuck it, Meth anon was there too, and Kim Jong Un and Evan double teamed him because they were just awesome that way.

As Kim Jong Un had sex with Evan Peters and Meth anon, he saw his father, Kim Jong IL giving him a thumbs up from Heaven.

Kim Jong Un flashed a thumbs up back before continuing to passionately making love.

This fanfic has been brought to you by North Korean sweatshops.

i don't think there's anything that will ever be posted to this blog that will surpass the creative genius of this story. i'm not even just saying that because i'm stoned. it was amazing from start to finish.

#fics

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anne-bsd-bibliophile · 10 months

Text

Emotional triggers are crazy. I just figured out today that just telling someone "no" immediately makes me nervous and I prepare myself to be yelled at, blamed, ridiculed, etc. I realize now that being raised by a narcissistic father who was emotionally/verbally abusive and had to have everything his way caused me to be scared of telling someone "no."

For example, something as simple as being asked "Do you have Diet Dr. Pepper?" When I have to tell them "No, all I have is Diet Coke for diet drinks," it scares me half to death. But when someone asks, "What sodas do you have?" it is so much easier for me to answer. Then I feel like I can be helpful and try to find something they like instead of have to tell them I don't have their favorite drink.

I get that most people probably won't take it out on me when I don't have what drink they want. But I grew up in a household where if I told my father that something wasn't his way or that things hadn't turned out how he had hoped I knew I would be blamed and he would do whatever he could to push the blame on me:

I, a five year old at the time, wanted to eat the fudge that I bought with the money I earned? But my father does so much for me and it is selfish not to share with him.

My sister came home after curfew? Well, if I had been a better older sister she wouldn't feel the need to rebel like that.

I don't like to eat cereal because I hate milk? But liking cereal with milk is normal and I can't possibly be abnormal so my father forced me to sit at the table until I had eaten every bit of cereal and drank every drop of milk in the bowl. (I found out years later that I'm lactose intolerant and that's why I hated milk so much growing up.)

I couldn't respond to a text right away because I was at work? Well my father was paying for my phone at the time so I had to answer right away or else he would threaten to disconnect it.

I wanted to tell my family about my day at dinner? But my sister had so much to say and my father didn't want me taking up her valuable time boring her by talking about my day.

My mom took me out to lunch? My father couldn't afford for my mom to be taking me out to eat and I must be trying to get her to divorce him. It was only okay for my father to take people out to lunch, and that's only if they "treated him right" and "deserved for him to pay for their food."

I like watching anime? Then that must be why I can't get a date and I must be watching hentai or (heaven forbid) I must be lesbian because otherwise I'd find a nice religious boy to marry and I wouldn't have time for things like anime.

I wouldn't agree with him that detox baths would literally suck fat cells from his body and make him lose weight? Well, I was a disrespectful daughter and my father threatened to never let me see my mom again.

After growing up in a situation where it was normal for me to be blamed and criticized for every little thing I did, it became a natural response for me to try to anticipate what people around me want to hear and want me to do. If I do or say anything "wrong" then I prepare myself for immediate and severe emotional punishment because that's what I grew up with constantly. I automatically assume everything I do is "wrong" until I realize no punishment has come, and then I can breathe a sigh of relief and hope that I did something right.

That's why dealing with people is so exhausting. That's why my social anxiety is so bad. I hadn't realized until this evening why I'm always so tense and nervous. I was talking to someone about weird habits we have from childhood that helped us survive in tough situations when it hit me that I say "yes" and try to please people to survive. That's why I relate to Yozo in No Longer Human so much: I'm terrified of humans, too. Only instead of playing the clown and trying to make them laugh, I'm trying to please them and make them happy so they won't get mad at me.

#coping with narcissistic abuse #social anxiety #emotional abuse #emotional extortion #I know it sounds really bad to say this but it has been so much easier since my father died #without him here no one is going to punish me for being myself anymore #that means I can do things like talk and spend time with my mom and like anime and books #I'm not constantly wrong all the time and it is so peaceful

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bedtimestoriesforbrokengirls · 1 year

Text

Mudgett

3. THE MICHIGAN UNIVERSITY SCHOOL OF MEDICINE

He gazed down at the body and took its measure. He didn’t bother doing it twice, for he knew he would be cutting far more than once.

Like many young medical students, Herman found the dissection of human remains distasteful. Unlike the others, he wasn’t moved by the plight of the deceased, nor was he shaken by the crass, corporeal evidence of mortality being disassembled under his steady hand. In fact, he found the Human Whole most fascinating in fractions; it was an impossibly complex maze of vessels and nerves and connective tissues that both contained and animated meaningless meat and brittle bone. It was beautiful, the way so much could emerge from so little.

But that was precisely what bothered him. For young Dr. Mudgett*, a corpse was the elegant closing paragraph to a vast, untidy, and unwieldy corpus; the punctuation at the end of life’s tale. In their repose, the dead said so much with such economy that it was easy for lesser minds to lose themselves in the viscera and ignore the vistas beyond… but Herman Webster Mudgett’s was not such a mind.

The contents of a stomach or the condition of a molar could tell him so many useful things about a person, but only the final things. They spoke to him only of What; that which had been, became, or would never be. He sought answers to another question entirely.

When the older boys at school first seized him that day and dragged him through the town’s muddy streets, he’d struggled mightily against them. But he’d quickly accepted the futility of the fight, and as a resigned sort of fear settled over him, he’d come to realize something important that he would carry with him all the days of his life.

——————

They’d come upon him in his laboratory —his name for the clearing in the woods next to the General Store— as he was engrossed in the act of education. The stumps of cleared trees —felled years before in the building of a barn— provided convenient little platforms upon which Herman could conduct an array of rudimentary experiments. He’d considered this place a sanctuary, one he often needed.

He was, after all, generally regarded the brightest boy in the community, and routinely impressed the adults around him with his precocious observations and the breadth of his vocabulary. Naturally, those same qualities —when matched with a diminutive frame and an air of superiority inherited from his thriving and monied family— made him a target of envious, spiteful children.

A frequent target.

“Good God!” he’d heard someone shout. “Over here! Come see this!”

“What is it? What’s— fuck!” exclaimed the other as he came running to the scene.

Herman had barely begun to turn before they were standing over him. He’d been kneeling before the “operating table” and intent upon the condition of his patient, so the first blow took him completely by surprise. He collapsed in the dirt at their feet, clutching his head and dropping the kitchen knife he’d surreptitiously borrowed from his mother.

“What are you doing out here, then?” demanded the larger lad, sixteen and already carrying the bulk of a man. He looked to his companion. “What do you think we’ve got here, Michael?”

“Seemed like he was praying,” answered the other, who scooped up the knife, eyed it with disgust, and tossed it into the trees. “But that don’t look right for praying. That looks like deviltry.”

The big one —Mr. Harding’s son, Grover— stomped the ground near Herman’s head, and the younger boy instantly curled into a defensive ball. Satisfied that there would be no immediate resistance to this surprise intervention, Grover squinted at Herman’s patient. “What is that?”

“Think it’s a bird. Maybe a crow,” was Michael’s speculative response. “Hard to tell with so many parts missing.”

Grover stomped again, this time closer to Herman’s face. Pebbles and dirt peppered him.

“Is that what this is, Mudgett? Demon worship?” Grover squatted and grabbed a fistful of Herman’s hair. “Are you doing curses? Trying to make girls love you?”

Herman shivered slightly but said nothing. Michael prompted him with a kick to the small of his back.

“It’s not like that!” cried Herman, suddenly ready to make his case. “It was an experiment!”

“Oh, really?” Grover looked up at his friend, grinned, and then allowed his scowl to reassert itself as he looked down at Herman. “So what does that make you?”

“I was helping!” Herman insisted.

“Helping what, loony?” Grover looked back at the improvised operating theater with a sneer; all signs of movement had ceased. “You call that helping?”

“You have to learn to help,” said Herman, overtly plaintive, but with a slight, rebellious note of umbrage. Why was it always necessary that he explain the obvious?

“Isn’t that something?” Grover stood and pulled Herman to his feet by his hair. The smaller boy yelped and began to cry. “Herman wants to be a birdie doctor!”

“Witch doctor, more like,” said Michael, glaring at the mess Herman had left. “How do you think you learn to farm, dummy? Burn the crops and play in the ashes?”

“You have to know—!” Herman began to shout, before being interrupted by the heel of Grover’s hand smacking his forehead.

“Watch your tone,” warned Grover.

“You have to know how things die,” said Herman, chastened and hushed. “If you want to know how they live.”

The clearing fell quiet. The older boys looked at Herman, and then at one another. And they began to laugh; at what, Herman was uncertain.

“Should we— should we take him down to the river?” asked Grover, trying to find the breath for words. “I— I don’t remember… do witches float or— or sink?”

“We can find out! Herman can help!” said Michael, finding the thought particularly hilarious. He shoved the target of his contempt, who squealed as he stumbled and nearly lost a handful of hair to Grover’s unrelenting grasp. “Herman likes to help, doesn’t he?”

“That’s what I hear!” Grover concurred. He forced Herman to face him as he leaned in close. “You want to be my little helper, Mudgett?”

“No!” Herman shouted, and began to thrash about with such unexpected vigor that he slipped away. Alas, he made it but a few yards before he was tackled. A hand pushed his face into the leaves that covered the forest floor, leaving him struggling to breathe and unable to see while his attackers planned his immediate future.

“He’s sick in the head,” said Michael, who’d done the tackling. He punched Herman in the ribs when he sensed a rising panic in his prey. “Best thing for everyone if he’d never been born.”

“No doubt,” said Grover, sighing, “but it’s too late for that, and the Lord helps them who help themselves.”

“Well I’ve got chores,” Michael responded after a moment’s consideration. “So—“ Another twitch, another punch. “So I can’t go all the way down to the river this afternoon.”

“Yah, my Pa wants me at the mill soon.” Grover sounded disappointed, as if it were particularly galling, seeing a rare good idea slip away from him. “Shit.”

“Gotta do something with him,” Michael insisted, grinding Herman’s face in the dirt to emphasize “him”. It was quiet for several moments as they considered their options and Herman urgently inhaled the scent of dead leaves and underbrush.

Without warning, someone clapped his hands.

“Got it!” Grover announced. Herman felt Michael’s weight shift off of him, and then he was flying to his feet. Without a moment to catch his breath or dust himself off, he was being alternately shoved and dragged back toward town.

Five minutes later, they’d emerged from the woods and Herman was stumbling to his knees at the back stoop of Dr. Cross’s clinic. Michael stood over him as Grover stepped to the half-open door, knocked, and peered inside.

“Doc?” he called, and listened for a response. “Doc!”

When it was clear the only answer would be silence, he entered the office and motioned for the others to follow.

Doc Cross’s office was to the children of Gilmanton, New Hampshire what the yawning mouth of a moaning, unfamiliar cave must have been to prehistoric man: a mysterious, terrifying space that might provide relief or disaster to anyone compelled to enter. Mr. Gantz the barber frequently made his customers scream while working on their teeth, but townspeople all-too-often entered Cross’s modest establishment with four limbs and exited with… noticeably less. It was exciting and horrifying.

In the corner of the examination room, Grover brought the forced march to a halt. “Say hello to Mr. Skinny,” he growled, shoving his captive forward.

Herman found himself looking up into the empty eye sockets of a mounted human skeleton. “Mr. Skinny” had been installed as a reference tool, but even more than the building itself, all of young Gilmanton whispered about it —whose had it been? where did the skin go? did it come back to life under the full moon?— and lived in fear of its morbid menace. Their parents were decent folk, after all, and taught their offspring to respect the secrets God chose to keep beneath the veil of flesh.

“What do you think about that, Mudgett?” Grover asked, gleefully taunting him. “You like playing with the insides of things, right? Here you go! You want to touch it, don’t you? I’ll bet you do.”

He advanced on Herman, who didn’t seem to notice; he only stared upward into the absence of a face.

“I think—” Michael interjected nervously from the doorway to which he’d retreated. “I think I should get home now.”

Grover glared at him and snorted in contempt.

“You’re scared, as usual,” he grumbled dismissively. “Figures.”

“I’ve really got to go,” Michael insisted, the wavering in his voice suggesting a confirmation of the accusation.

“So go. No one here needs you,” Grover assured him.

Herman remained immobile, ignored, and transfixed. The older boys amplified their argument behind him.

“Stop— just stop it!” whined Michael. “I told you earlier: I have chores!”

“There’s always an excuse,” countered Grover. “Go on. I’m sure your ma needs you to sew on some buttons or darn some socks, Michelle.”

Michael’s face hardened, but he said nothing. His apparent outrage conveniently propelled him out the door, into fresh air, and down the road from that dreadful place.

“You’re right, you know,” said Herman, his voice steady and calm in the resulting silence. Grover circled him to get a look at his face, which was still staring at the skeleton’s.

“What the devil are you talking about, freak?” Grover demanded. His hands balled into fists.

“He’s scared. You’re right,” Herman assured him. “He doesn’t see things. The things we see.”

Grover began to speak, stopped, and squinted at Herman. He followed the smaller boy’s eye-line to its target, and back again. Unlike Herman, he blinked. “What?”

“People like us,” Herman said, his face remaining expressionless. “I realize now that we’re actually alike. We know how things are. That there are winners and losers. Weak and strong. Smart and dumb.” Without looking away, he motioned toward Mr. Skinny. “Alive and dead. Not much is frightening, really, when you can tell who’s what.”

“Are you out of your head?” Grover hissed. “How hard did I hit you?”

“The difference is, that’s enough for you. You never wonder about the rest,” Herman continued, his manner that of a distracted young shaman conveying a vision to a tribe of which he was only half-aware. “There’s so much more. Has to be.”

“Mother of Christ, there really is something wrong with you,” whispered an increasingly unnerved Grover. He took an abrupt step back as Herman reached out and took the skeleton’s dangling hand, as if to gauge its weight… or offer it comfort. “Hey, if you break it, they’ll—!”

“Hm. You’re right about that too,” Herman said, running his fingertips over bare bone. “I do like touching it.”

“You idiot, if something happens—“ Grover could clearly feel his control of the situation slipping away. And worse than that, his understanding.

“You never wonder ‘Why?’, do you?” asked Herman, his head at last swiveling to face his antagonist. His eyes were not unkind, in the same way that a rolling boulder bears no malice for anything in its path. “Seeing things the way they are, you can— you can just take whatever you want, right? But you don’t realize…”

Grover blinked again. Nothing in a lifetime of determined bullying had prepared him to be lectured in the midst of intimidation. His confusion was so complete that he made no attempt to stop Herman, who in a single motion released the skeletal hand and plucked a scalpel from a nearby tray of ostensibly clean medical instruments; Grover chose instead to briskly retreat to the far side of the Doc’s examination table as Herman held the blade up to the light and finished his thought.

“I’ve been thinking about it, and it seems to me that if you learn the why of something,” Herman opined as he cut delicate wounds in the air with the scalpel, “you can make whatever you want. You can do more than chase things and break things and rule over them. You can learn what they crave and catch them with it. You can carve what you need from what they have. You can rewrite their stories and give them the end that makes you happiest.”

Grover appeared to remember himself once he’d reached safety, and struggled gamely to be assertive. “I’ll take that damned thing away from you, kid!” He pointed at Herman and stabbed the air between them. “You think I’m afraid of you, little man?”

Herman’s mirthless smile was his only acknowledgement that the older boy had said anything at all.

“You think like a butcher when you should think like a god.” He sighed almost wistfully. “It makes no sense. Don’t you want to understand?”

It was then that they both heard the knob turn and the glass-paned front door rattle. They studied one another for a moment, each uncertain of the others’ intentions as the sounds of a returning Dr. Cross reached them from the waiting room just outside.

There was a moment —a scrap of time— when it appeared Grover might grab for the other boy and —blade be damned— attempt to drag him away. Perhaps with an eye toward inflicting a vengeful beating, perhaps to abscond with the evidence of his trespass. Perhaps —and if it were so, he’d have been unlikely to admit it— to listen further to what the little madman had to say.

But Herman would have none of that, so he brought the scalpel to his free hand and sliced deeply into his palm. Blood began to ooze as Grover’s eyes opened wide. The bigger boy panicked and bolted for the back door, bumping a book-laden desk along the way.

“What’s that?” came the call of a surprised Dr. Cross from the outer room. “Is someone there?” He raised no small clamor himself, charging down the hall and into the room to confront the interloper.

Instead he found a dirty, disheveled, and bleeding Herman Mudgett, perched patiently on the leather-padded exam table. The boy had held out his injured hand as tears streamed down his face and he related the story; how he’d been battling wily Redcoats in the woods with his brave Revolutionary platoon, tripped over a tree root, sliced open his hand on a rock, and made his way to the good doctor for help because “Mama’s rougher with her needle and thread.”

——————

Herman thought of that day’s stitches as he extracted the spleen from his cadaver. He placed the organ on a scale and noted the weight, before resuming his excavation of the decedent.

It had hurt, being sewn up, but the doctor had been impressed with how calmly young Herman faced the discomfort, how enthusiastically he’d asked questions, and how closely he’d attended the responses. The boy was charming when motivated, and before leaving for home with a bandage and a pocketful of sweets, he’d found a mentor, and the comforting knowledge that a rough path he’d long been following was newly paved.

For his part, Grover avoided Herman for months after, before finally impregnating his young cousin and moving out of state with her family. There was no evidence that Grover ever revealed what had passed between them at Cross’s place, and he never returned to Gilmanton as the years lurched on, so he eventually drifted to the back of Herman’s mind… a half-recalled face wed to a half-felt resentment.

It hadn’t been with intent then, that Herman chose a medical school in Ann Arbor; he’d had no idea that Grover and his wife had set up housekeeping just across town. It came as a surprise when he’d glimpsed them, a cheerful young family out for a stroll. He hadn’t set out to follow the father of two from home to work and back again. He’d certainly never seriously imagined he would come in stealth upon a drunken Mr. Harding, in an alley next to a bar at closing time, and drive a blade much bigger than a scalpel between his ribs.

But as he stood in the shadows and watched the man drown in his own blood, Herman knew it was meant to be. As Grover clutched at his chest and struggled to breathe, he mouthed “why?” again and again.

“You sound just like me,” Herman replied.

The rest was even easier than he could have guessed. The body was discovered at sunrise, and the widow informed of her loss by noon. By four, an old acquaintance from Gilmanton had stopped by to offer both his condolences and ten dollars for a body she would otherwise have paid to bury; her grief and the money to feed her babies were her only concerns, so she questioned little and agreed quickly. By dinner, the remains of Grover Harding had been sold once again —this time for a tidy profit to the medical school— and from there, via a greased palm or two, they were assigned to one Herman Mudgett for his coursework.

Thus it was that he whistled a cheerful little tune as he pulled the heart of an old schoolmate from its cavity, held it up, and regarded it carefully. For some reason, the scar on his palm ached under its weight.

He whistled on and thought of crows.

FOOTNOTES:

He was not yet a doctor, but after six months of medical school, Herman felt that the distinction was mere trivia; his grades were solid, despite the scarcely-contained jealousy of his dilapidated, doddering instructors and his callow fellow students. He knew what he needed to know, even if no one else would attest to it. Yet.

(canonical version here)

#stories

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