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#hoping this doesn't show up in any searches so if you see this no you don't <3
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Hi!
I was wondering if there are any fics where the ending is still the same (aziraphale goes to heaven, crowley stays on earth) but they properly discuss it and understand each other’s choice? This may be a bit too specific so no worries if you don’t know any.
Thank you 💕
Hey! Here are some fics where the ending is the same, but they take some time to talk a little more first...
The Other Side of Forgiveness by JazzRazzberry (NR)
Crowley should leave. He should really go now, before he does anything worse than what he’s already said and done. Before he gets forgiven again. He should go, the Bentley is outside, he can drive and drink until he forgets. Before he does something stupid. Before he kisses Aziraphale again. He should just go. Although. Might as well bare everything to his angel before he’s gotta leave forever, right? Aziraphale is still looking at him with those eyes, those damned eyes.
A tight embrace to say goodbye by yellowdaisy2023 (G)
Aziraphale can feel the lump forming in the back of his throat. His eyes sting with unshed tears as he turns, looking away from Crowley. His whole body is turned away from him, almost as if he’s closing himself off. It breaks Crowley’s heart. In all the years they’ve known each other, after all the fights, they’ve never done that. They’ve never closed each other off. Crowley takes a step back, ready to leave his angel forever, when he sees the slightest shudder in Aziraphale’s shoulders. Crowley pauses, watching carefully. It happens again, a small shake in the usually tense shoulders. He’s crying. Or Someone on TikTok pointed out that Aziraphale was about to sob before Crowley kissed him and I ran with it
This is Not an Apology (This is Not a Goodbye) by ThisIsWhyILoveReading (T)
After watching Aziraphale leave for Heaven, Crowley drives to his newly-reacquired flat and decides to sleep his pain away for the next few centuries, at least. Unfortunately, a certain angel shows up at his bedside and they are forced to try and Talk Things Out.
the choiceless hope in grief by Addicted2Demons (T)
"Don't go." The words are ripped from him involuntarily, a swelling need rising behind his breastbone and expanding like a balloon at a rapid pace, terrifying him in its intensity. He wasn't going to say that; it hadn't been a conscious thought, but there the words are anyway, writhing in the air between them, screaming out. Crowley stops, but doesn't turn, hand poised to turn the knob of the bookshop door, shoulders pulled up to his ears. Guarded. Hurt. Tender, inside, Aziraphale knows. He's always been so tender. A heart he was never supposed to have torn and bleeding in his ragged chest for centuries, possibly millennia. -- or -- Aziraphale has just been kissed by his demon for the first time. He suddenly, desperately, can't let him leave the bookshop without doing it again.
Things Left Unsaid by very_normal_abt_this (G)
S2 finale compliant fix it fic. Aziraphale decides that the first conversation with Crowley about going to Heaven was terrible, and that there are other things he needs to say to the Demon. Before he leaves.
one last nightingale by blackeyedblonde (E)
“Listen,” Crowley says abruptly from where he’s standing by the door, pointing above their heads. “Hear that?” They’re running out of options, he’s running out of time to make Crowley listen, and in his mounting panic somehow all the angel can do is bluff. “I don’t hear anything!” he says in huffed exasperation. The true weight of that silence wedged between them slugs Aziraphale somewhere beneath the breastbone when he realizes, dazedly, that the grandfather clock behind him has stopped ticking for the very first time in more than three centuries. “Nothing…at all,” Aziraphale breathes out, eyes widening as he whips his head around to gape at the forestalled clock. Upon turning again he searches Crowley’s face for some sort of affirmation, for any kind of clue that this is the trapdoor he’d been haplessly hoping for. “My word. Did you just—?” “Sure did,” Crowley retorts, lowering his arm so it slaps against his side like a limp fish. Outside the world continues, Soho going about its business as usual, but even the old metronome across the room on the angel’s desk has stopped its waving arm mid-air. “Now start explaining, we haven’t got all day.”
- Mod D
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thalialurksalot · 2 days
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[for @calaisreno 's May Shenanigans. i am apparently writing like an actual serial story here? don't ask me, i have no idea]
(1) (2) 3: familiar
You may have to come rescue us from the zoo.
Sherlock sees him texting and makes an angry noise, re-crossing his arms like it's going to underscore his point. 'Absolutely not, I am not accepting Mycroft's assistance.'
'Well,' John says, stuffing his free hand in his pocket and rocking back on his heels. 'That's handy, because I texted Greg.'
Who must be bored at the Yard, because he answers straight away. Hang on, are you at the zoo or
Only until the bobbies get here, John replies with a tilt of his lips.
He should probably be more put off by current events, but no one's bleeding and Rosie is still enthralled by every thing she sees, so he's doing all right.
Omw
Cheers
---
Rosie is two thousand percent done by the time they make it home, just absolutely toasted in every sense, including a bit of a sunburn. Good English stock, she clearly came from, John thinks as he smoothes some aloe on her little pink scrunched up face. Considering it's bloody March and the sun was barely even out.
'I know, bub, I know, just one-- There we are, that wasn't so bad, was it?' They're sat on the couch, Rosie on his lap and tucked into his arm. She shows her appreciation by pressing her sticky, snotty face into his shirt and rubbing her nose sleepily back and forth.
As her breathing evens out, John tries to resist the pull to succumb to sleep as well, but his body feels so heavy and the couch so familiar. And he doesn't have anywhere else to be, for once.
He'd been hoping, of course, that during Rosie's nap he could actually corner Sherlock and have an only mildly subtextual conversation about some things. A few things. Well, one thing.
John feels his neck get hot, thinking of Sherlock's face on their stairs last week. Trust Sherlock Holmes to be the only person to regress John to godawful teenage-style embarrassment. And then allow them to conveniently use that embarrassment to avoid any mention of the subject. John is sick of himself, and stretched under his skin with this new kind of wanting, and he had planned to take care of it tonight, on their rare genuine day off, with Rosie content and asleep.
But Sherlock is still at the station, surely arguing with Lestrade about something or other. John had fucked off as soon as he could: Greg has a soft spot for Rosie -- everyone who meets her does, obviously, and John's not biased at all, thanks -- but Lestrade is also a father, so he'd booted them out right quickly.
John makes a mental note, just before falling asleep, to buy him a pint soon.
---
When he wakes up, it's because a small plush lion has been placed on his shoulder. 'What the--' he starts, but he gets shushed-- of course he does-- by Sherlock.
'No, don't move, you'll wake her.'
John grunts in protest, but obeys; it so happens that he doesn't really want to move, anyway. 'I presume this is a gift for her, not me.'
'Yes.' Sherlock has his hands clasped behind his back, a habit John hasn't seen in a while. 'Is it-- Sufficient? I know I should apologise for what happened today.'
John assesses his face, then sighs, grabbing the plush toy and re-settling it against Rosie's warmth. 'You can't always redeem yourself with a nice gesture.'
'Nonsense, I can't redeem myself with any gesture whatsoever. I'm giving this to her because I--' He stops. 'Have great affection for her.'
He ducks his chin, and John feels a surge of warmth in his chest. He rides it like courage. 'For her, eh?'
Sherlock's eyes snap to his. 'I don't--' His mouth closes without finishing. John waits, heart thumping. 'She is my god-daughter, afterall.'
John exhales, then gathers up his child and stands. 'She needs some attention--' (their code for nappy changing) '--Then we'll come down for some supper. Will you be joining us?'
Sherlock's eyes rove around his face, searching. 'I don't think--'
But before he can say what it is he doesn't think, there's a crash from downstairs.
TBC
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tobiasdrake · 2 months
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*deep breath* Okay. Here we go.
I don't think the Netflix Avatar show likes women very much. It's a great show for fans of Aang, Sokka, Zuko, and Iroh specifically. All four of those characters get a ton of great material. In fact, it's super great for Sokka stans, because the show takes him ultra-seriously and can't go five minutes without one character or another (usually a woman) praising him.
But the way it handles its female cast is troublesome.
Katara
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So, all three of the main trio got some changes made to their stories. They changed Aang's story so that he wasn't running away from his responsibilities; He was just clearing his head and somehow accidentallied himself into a tsunami. Whoopsy-dooodle. Aang did nothing wrong.
They changed Sokka's story so that him being a leader of his people and a great guardian warrior is treated with complete seriousness. Multiple times, characters stop to talk about how brave and noble Sokka is for taking on such an intense responsibility, and tell him to his face what a great warrior and a wonderful leader he is. Also his misogyny is erased.
And they changed Katara's story so that she directly got her mom killed because she sucks at waterbending.
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Katara tries to waterbend to attack the Fire Nation soldier but couldn't manage it, provoking the soldier to start actively searching for her and forcing her mom to fake a waterbending attack and draw his fire. They changed Katara's story so that her bad decision making fucking got her mom killed.
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This is treated with the same level of severity as "Sokka was bullied by mean kids and also his dad doesn't think he's good enough to be a leader."
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"I hoped Sokka would do better but not everyone is meant to have people's lives in their hands," Sokka's dad says of him.
Yeah, you're right, that's totally comparable to watching your mom get barbecued because you tried to waterbend in a situation you shouldn't have and then failed.
In fact, they give Sokka's greatest trauma more weight because it gets examined again with Yue next episode, while Katara actively getting her mom killed isn't brought up again at all. We get traumatized glimpses of it throughout the season leading up to the reveal, but after this scene in episode 5, it never comes up again.
But to be fair, Katara was a child. An event this significant would surely have motivated her, driving her to become the great waterbender she is now, right?
No! Katara sucks at waterbending and needs men who aren't even waterbenders to teach her how to waterbend. She requires instruction from Aang in episode 1 to learn how to waterbend, then from Jet in episode 3 to learn how to waterbend better.
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And unlike the show, her relationship with Aang isn't a give-and-take; Katara doesn't teach Aang a single goddamn thing. He never learns to waterbend. She is a strictly a pupil throughout the whole season. Though she at least gets officially labeled a master in episode 8, so there's that.
In any case, the whole traumatic memory thing isn't even the only time she's directly compared with Sokka. Episodes 3 and 4 see Katara and Sokka bicker over whose morally dubious side character is better. Sokka likes the Mechanist and Katara likes Jet.
Ultimately, Katara is forced to eat crow when Jet turns out to be the worst, while Sokka is vindicated when the Mechanist sees the error of his ways and reforms. But not before two separate arguments where Sokka calls Katara childish and accuses her of acting like a little girl.
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Arguments ultimately resolved when Katara apologizes to Sokka for not adequately respecting his very serious and ultra important role as village protector and leader. Gives him a whole speech about how great and glorious he is. And Sokka... appreciates Katara learning to respect him properly, I guess, because he never offers any similar sentiments back to her.
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The show just... They need you to know how important Sokka is, okay? It's very important that you respect Sokka.
Suki
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Suki suffers tremendously from that whole "Sokka's misogyny was removed" thing. Y'know, because they need something else to do with that episode. The show is deeply aware that Suki is Sokka's love interest, so they just do that right off the bat. Suki falls madly in love with him from the moment they meet, and spends the entire episode making goo-goo eyes and trying to get him to Notice Me Senpai.
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They still do the "Suki Trains Sokka" stuff. But Sokka is a serious, dignified manly man worthy of the deepest respect now, so of course they don't make him wear the Kyoshi uniform. Instead, the main purpose of his training is to allow them to flirt some more. It's less martial arts training and more an excuse to grope each other and near-kiss.
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Suki's just a waifu now. She still fights real good, but all of the stuff that made her relationship with Sokka interesting has been erased.
Yue
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Yue, similarly, leaps straight to shipping from the word go. They write out her fiance, Hahn, by having Yue briefly meet Sokka earlier in the season. She spends one minute talking to him in the Spirit World about Spirit World lore; In that time, she falls so desperately, madly, unfathomably in love with him that she breaks off her marriage to Hahn and devotes herself to waiting for him to one day come to her.
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"Never have I known such joys as that time you let me explain the spirit bear Hei Bei to you. Truly, we are destined to be together for life."
Like with Suki, they go out of their way to have Yue and Sokka already be a ship from the word 'go' so they don't have to spend time developing any kind of meaningful attraction.
They just. They really want you to know that Sokka is the manliest and most desirable man ever to walk this earth. It is very important that you understand how great he is. Women hurl themselves into his arms with zero effort whatsoever, because he's just so goddamn irresistible.
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Fortunately, Hahn is super okay with this turn of events. He's the most chill guy ever, he gets along perfectly well with Sokka, and he completely supports Yue's right to dump him! In the famously misogynistic Northern Water Tribe, no less! What a swell guy. Aren't men swell?
June
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June gets hit with that "rewritten as hollow waifu" stick too, but her eyes are set on Iroh. They rewrote June to be super attracted and flirty towards the man who was her unwanted sexual harasser in the source material. So that's fun.
Also, she barely does anything. Zuko hires her to find Aang, she succeeds, and then she fucks right off out of the show - But she manages to find time to express how unbelievably sexy Iroh is twice during that time.
She seriously just dropped into the show to flirt with Iroh and leave. She is unbelievably inconsequential.
Kyoshi
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And then there's Kyoshi. They really want you to hate Kyoshi. She's constantly shot from below, as if looking down on Aang and the audience. Her voice takes on a demonic echoing reverb at one point as she's screaming at Aang that "THE AVATAR MUST BE A MERCILESS WARRIOR!!!"
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She despises Aang, calling him a coward for running away from his responsibilities - Which, I remind you, is no longer a plot point because they unwrote that flaw from his character. So she's just a complete and utter asshole, shot from the asshole angle, yelling violently at him with asshole sound effects. They want you to despise this woman.
Azula
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Awkwardly, they do not seem to want you to despise Azula.
There's a lot to be said for how Ozai treats Azula in the original show. The way the favoritism he shows her is every bit as cruel and manipulative as the unfavoritism that he shows Zuko. Ozai does not love Azula. He loves the reflection of himself he sees in her eyes, and his encouragement urges her to polish herself to ensure his reflection always shines through.
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This is not that. The show instead erases the favoritism entirely. Ozai doesn't really care one way or another about either of his kids. He plays them against each other, bragging openly to Azula about how great Zuko is and unpleasably writing Azula off as weak and useless.
They've rewritten the dynamic between abusive father and his two abused kids in order to take Azula's pride away. Reimagining her from a gifted prodigy who excels at imitating the toxic behaviors of a father who doesn't truly care for her, to a put-upon overachiever tearing herself in knots to live up to the standards of her unpleasable father.
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This results in a truly wild portrayal of Azula as insecure and jealous of Ozai's seemingly love for Zuko. Here, she is simply a browbeaten child constantly complaining to her friends about how mean her father is and conspiring to get one up over Daddy's Golden Child Zuko.
Which she fails at, because she backs Zhao. Zuko deftly defeats her without even realizing they're in competition.
Conclusion
The season ends well for some of these women. It ends promising that maybe we'll see Katara teaching Aang some day. It ends with Zhao bragging that Ozai just used Zuko to train Azula so maybe we'll see the more confident and misguidedly proud Azula some day. Yue becomes the moon like she's supposed to. June's still out there so maybe she'll get to do something again some day.
Katara gets to fight Pakku and lose, but she looks pretty cool. She gets to fight Zuko and lose, but she looks pretty cool. Azula learns to lightningbend because she's just so mad about Ozai's contempt for her and favoritism for Zuko, which isn't how you lightningbend.
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But promises of future content fall flat when the content that exists is so underwhelming. This season made its feelings on these characters pretty evident, and it's unwise to expect better material from creators who've disappointed you with the material they already made.
The women of Netflix Avatar simply do not get to shine, outside of superficial moments like the "Women of Northern Water Tribe demand the right to fight and then fuck off and don't do anything for the entire rest of the episode" bit.
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"In the midst of battle, we demand that you stop being sexist and give us permission to fight! This is a way better idea than convincing you to teach us to fight before the battle begins."
The characters of this show feel as if they've been reimagined to glorify the boys at the expense of the girls. The boys are treated with a great amount of care. They're dignified and made important movers of the plot, with their rough edges sanded off. While the girls are molded around them.
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sm-baby · 5 months
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I want to see all the carnival AU bios again, but finding Zooble's is too hard, even when using the search. I hope there's a more organized way to view them.
(Trying to come up with nicknames that said characters would give my characters.)
CARNIVAL AU MASTERPOST + BOUNDARIES
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Augh... I never know how to organize stuff! But here is a mini master post of the TADC Info Cards (edited):
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The Main Cast (Minus Zooble :C)
Zooble ( Plus Zooble!!! :3)
Shiny Cards ✨
Lesser AI
THE GLOINKS!!!
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Level layout
OFFICIAL COMIC:
Your best friend!
Jesterly duties
The hallway
Crying
First clue
Special event!
Foul language
CONCEPT ART:
The Tent
The Funhouse
Cutscene
Pomni expressions
Character design
Meet Pomni
ALT character skins
LOREEE:
Neck pieces
Neck pieces (prt 2)
Neck pieces (prt 3)
Silly Frilly
Toxic Positivity Duo
Quick Ragatha Doodle
The Rabbit
Non-sentient Pomni
Pity Laugh
DOODLE DUMPS:
First look
Meet Jax
Meet Ragatha!
Meet Kinger
Meet Able
Zooble's room
Theatre shinanigans
Thanks for listening
Jax Doodles
SILLIES:
Final boss Pomni Theory
Ofcourse you would
Shoulder Pads
Ribbun real!?!?!?
omg showtime teeheeh ehehehe
CUTIES!!!
Carnival AU meets Original
its ok she's not drowning
The Amazing Digital... Circus???
A Christmas Carol Play!
Carnival Freakshow AU Merge!! (Freakshow AU by @hootbon)
Whore Pomni Inside joke
shitpost doodles
SCANDAL!!
SCANDAL!! (alt)
Flirty non-sentient pomni Inside joke (TW For suggestive themes): NON-CANON
Start
Context
Flirty non-sentient pomni (shitpost)
Pomni..........
Memory storage restart
the silly!!
no you're not.
oh god
someone paid me 10 bucks
╔══ ❀•°❀BOUNDERIES/FAQ❀°•❀ ══╗
"Can I make OCs In Carnival?" - Yess!! Multiple people already have and they make me so happy! do whatever, as long as you're happy and having fun!! " Can I make NSFW?" - Yas and slay, just be sure to warn and spoiler it, etc. etc. be responsible when posting NSFW! " Can I make Fanfics?" - Yes and please show me!! that would be lovely!! " Can I dub/voice your stuff?" - Yes but, I have only one rule... show me pleaaasseeee pls pls pls 🥺🙏 " Can I ship the characters/self ships/ OC x Canon?" - Aughh.. this is gonna suck to explain cuz its a lot to ask.. You're allowed to ship any ship! My only boundary is that it doesn't include either Pomni or Caine being with others who are not eachother! For example: Ragatha x Jax ✅ Pomni x Jax❌ Kinger x Queenie✅ Kinger x Caine❌ As long as the ship does not include Pomni or Caine individually, I'm all aboard!! I respect Jax x Pomni shippers, as well as Kinger x caine shippers, I just don't like them myself and don't want to accidentally stumble upon them in the tag! I do apologize if that's a lot, it just makes me uncomfy! Bounderies can be very tight! :')
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griffonsgrove · 4 months
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Hiiii!!! See your doing writing requests for Hazbin, Its my hyperfixation so I am in need of more content 👀 so I'd like to request maybe Vox general or NSFW headcanon ( either one is good lol-) with a afab reader maybe? This is my first time requesting something like this so sorry if I'm a little nervous or bad at requesting. I think this is how people are supposed to request? XD
General Dating Headcanons | Vox
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a/n: You're totally alright dear! You said everything just fine! As I've stated before, I got early access to the first two episodes, and it's been so interesting to analyze vox's character! I hope I can do him justice!! He's starting to grow on me now. I'm gonna stick with a gn!reader just because these are general headcanons and I want them to be suited for anyone!
fandom: Hazbin Hotel
wordcount: 1299
cw: SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL, swearing, vulgar content, stalking, death and mentions of death/murder., toxic/absuive relationships.
(PLATONIC):
Vox’s got eyes EVERYWHERE in hell. There is no escaping his line of sight unless you go completely off the grid. Which is pretty difficult to do when the entirety of pentagram city is covered head to toe in VoxTech.
However, if you don't pose a threat to him, he really doesn't give a shit about you otherwise, and won’t pay that much attention to your life.
When you first fell into hell, you were mostly confused as to how you wound up here in the first place. That quickly subsided into fear as you noticed the large variety of demons and sinners casually walking down the sidewalk like it was an average tuesday. 
You’ll never forget the sight of seeing a demon gnaw off the arm of another and swallow it whole, like it was an all-you-can-eat buffet. 
You wander aimlessly down the streets, keeping to yourself and being very cautious of those around you. Your clothes were in tatters, and you didn't have any form of money whatsoever, what were you to do??
You had two options: Somehow find a job in this new horrific realm, or, die.
You didn't care too much for the latter.
This is how you stumble across one of the largest studios/clubs in hell, owned by probably the most feared overlords in pentagram city. The V’s. 
You get hired to be nothing more than a waiter/waitress, to serve the patrons of the club, mostly serving them their drinks.
You weren't too fond of the work uniform either. It left nothing to the imagination, and exposed alot of skin, far too much to your liking. The job actually paid somewhat decently though and it was enough to be able to sustain a living. You were quick to rent out the nearest apartment.
One day, while you’re out on the main floor, making your rounds, your eyes briefly lock with the TV demon across a sea of sinners. Call it cheesy, but it was almost like a spark went off the moment he laid eyes on you. Which is something that doesn't happen often with the tech-savvy overlord. Who were you??
He lazily beckons you over with a claw, to which you obediently follow, although it doesn't hide the sheer nervousness written all over your face, He gives you his drink order in that sultry, velvet voice of his, eyeing you up. You gulp slightly and are quick to bring him his order. He thought you were so cute trembling for him.
He begins to stalk observe you closer after that. If you have any electronic devices he’ll watch you through your screens, trying to get a glimpse into what your life was like outside of work. The things you enjoyed doing in your free time, favorite shows, foods etc.
He def goes through your search history.
He would start showing up more in the sections you worked at, oftentimes minding his business, but occasionally striking up a conversation with you.
You did have to admit he was quite the charmer, his smooth voice was hypnotic to you.
OBSESSIVE TENDENCIES. If he notices some creep won't leave you alone while you're working, he’ll take care of them personally, it’s never a pretty sight afterwards. He cant have anyone taking what's his.
You're oblivious to his stalking and possessiveness, you don't think much of it, maybe that's because he puts on a friendly face when you’re around him.
But after some time of getting to know you, He’s the one that eventually asks you out on a “date”. You’re skeptical at first, but decide to accept his offer. And also partially because you were afraid of what would happen if you said no.
(ROMANTIC):
Ngl it’s kind of a situationship in the beginning.
Vox is a busy man, it’s constant work maintaining the studios (especially valentinos temper) and managing the entirety of hell's technology. So, he may ghost you at first.
That being said, He will still keep an eye on you. He often watches through your phone while you sleep, just to make sure you’re safe. Hell is a dangerous place after all.
Speaking of, you’re now under the protection of the V’s, so that’s a plus! You never have to worry about another demon laying a finger on you. They usually never get close enough to anyways.
He very easily gets jealous. He won't show it on the outside because he has an image to uphold, but you can tell every time from that crazed look in his eyes.
Vox is a possessive lover; he wants to keep you all to himself. If he could, he’d keep you locked up by his side all day.
CONTROLLING. He HAS to know where you’re at, at all times, and who you’re going to be with (lest you face one of his tantrums). Also dictates what you wear, He likes to dress you up to his liking, like you’re his own personal doll.
Insecure much?
Say goodbye to privacy btw. He constantly has you in the back of his mind and a watchful eye on you. It can be kind of suffocating at times. The two of you have gotten into a few arguments because of this.
Valentino gets jealous of you too. How dare you take his boy-toy away from him? He’s often giving you the stink eye and will threaten you behind vox’s back. You’re too scared to tell Vox, because you don't want to face Val’s wrath.
You know briefly of his and Val’s “relationship” it all had seemed very one-sided and completely unhealthy.
You're often having to calm Vox down. The man has a very short temper and is easily provoked. 
Imagine you pressing little kisses to his screen after he found out about Alastor’s return. He remains stoic, but secretly enjoys your affection.
Some of the pet names he loves to call you include; Doll, Dear, Darling, Sweetheart, Babe.
Pretty old-fashioned ik, but he's a classy man alright?
He tends to be pretty touchy, always having a clawed hand on the small of your back, or an arm wrapped around your waist. It’s more of a possessive trait of his, to keep what's his close.
He loves having you sprawled on his lap while he’s in his screen room, you stay nuzzled into his side, often taking naps while he does broadcasts.
He TOTALLY spoils you btw. He’s one of the most powerful overlords in hell, ofc he has the money to show it. Whatever dingy apartment you had before, forget about it bc this man has you living in a penthouse suite in one of the most expensive apartment buildings. He sees you looking at something in a store or online?? Boom, it’s yours now.
He loves buying you clothes, as I’ve said before, you're his “doll” and he loves playing dress up with you.
And if you buy him something?? He’s taken by surprise at first, he’s never really been on the receiving end of that affection, so whatever it is you give him he’ll cherish it.
If you ever have someone bothering you, or want to get rid of, you just say the word babe. He’ll be feeding them to his sharks >:)
The man is emotionally constipated, ok?? All he’s ever known from relationships is what he shared with Val (and trust me that was a train wreck). He’s rough around the edges, short-tempered and isn't always easy to get along with, and he’s incredibly possessive which can be suffocating to deal with at times. This probably stems from him not wanting to actually be alone, He doesn't want you to slip out of his grasp, so he keeps a tight leash on you. But underneath all these flaws, he really does love you and care about you. At the end of the day, He just wants someone that will stay.
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l1tw1ck · 6 months
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finding out miguel's secret~
sub!bottom!ftm miguel x dom!top!spider!amab reader
cw: afab language, masturbating, daddy kink, voyeurism
You quietly enter Miguel's office after knocking a few times with no answer. The door was cracked open so you thought it'd be okay to enter without permission. That, or he's in some sort of trouble. You hop onto the ceiling and quietly crawl around the office, looking for him and any possible assailants. As you're searching, you can hear faint noises coming from Miguel's private break room. He doesn't take breaks with the rest of the spiders, who could blame him though. You crawl down the wall and press your ear against the door.
"Uh~" A moan. "It's all in, Daddy~"
Your cheeks rise in temperature. What's going on in there?
"Please– please call me a good boy..."
"Good boy."
Another moan.
That sounds an awful lot like your voice.
You slowly open the door and peak through the crack. It's Miguel sitting on a bed. He's naked and has a dildo inside him. And then...there's....a hologram? A hologram of you? It's watching him masturbate. You feel bad that he has to do this in front of a soulless digital copy of you.
You open the door all the way, startling Miguel. He looks at you in fear.
"I- I can explain-" He quickly covers himself with his hands.
"Please, enlighten me." You smirk, closing the door behind you. You walk over to him and move his hands away. You grab the base of the dildo and slowly thrust it in and out of him.
"I um- I gave Lyla a....a new skin...to mimic you-" He bites his lip, feeling even more pleasure just from having you in his presence.
"You're that shy? Couldn't even ask me out first?" You chuckle. "You don't deserve to be called a good boy."
Miguel blushes in embarrassment and arousal.
"But you know what you can do to earn it?"
Miguel shakes his head.
"Use your words, darling."
"What?" His voice is trembling. You didn't think you'd ever hear him sound like this.
"Show Daddy how you use your little toy." You let go of the dildo and step back.
Miguel bites down on his lip and slowly fucks himself with the toy, staring at you in the eyes as he does so. He's had lots of practice with Lyla. Speaking of which, she's already left the room. But the real thing is much different. The look in your eye is real, and it's hungry. His eyes trail down to your crotch. He wonders if you've masturbated to him too. His mind starts to wander as he starts to imagine that. Would you use toys too? Do you have a fleshlight that you imagine is him? He twitches at the thought of you roughly rutting into a pocket pussy while thinking of him. He hopes he'll be replacing it.
You decide to give him what he so clearly wants to see. You pull down your pants and then your boxers. Miguel immediately snaps out of it when he sees your cock. He swears in Spanish, you're bigger than he anticipated. He stares at it as you slowly stroke it, precum dribbling out of your slit. He speeds up the pace, roughly fucking himself with his dildo. He wishes he could suck you off.
"You're drooling, Miguel." You chuckle. "You want this?"
He nods rapidly. "I want it, Daddy– I want it in my mouth and- and in my pussy~" He's breathing heavily. "Please- please-" He gasps, squirting.
"Good boy."
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makwebba · 2 months
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better than a podium l LN4
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summary: lando could've won his first race in silverstone but he ended up not finishing. pairing: lando x gf!reader warnings: mentions of lando crashing and swearing. note: my first formula 1 fan fiction! not my first time writing fan fictions but it has been a couple of years since i wrote something and lately my love for writing is slowly coming back. the pictures are from pinterest and idk who the owners are so if you guys know the owner or if you are the owner, please lemme know :( also no hate on checo but it just kinda make sense cause he's in a red bull idk. dont come for me. anyways, i hope you guys enjoy it!
- lando was leading the race in silverstone, his home race. you could've not been more prouder for your boyfriend, you were certain he was gonna win the race but not until checo hit the rear tyre of lando's car which cause him to spun out and hit the barrier. your heart sank, everything went numb and it felt like the world just stopped. it was a bad crash, you waited for his voice to come through the mclaren headset that's snugged onto your ear. "lando, are you okay, mate?" randy asked through the radio. you can hear him grunt and groan in agony, breaking your heart even further. you hated seeing him like this every time you come and watch him race. what felt like ages, the medical car finally showed up to retrieve him back to the garage. lando didn't even bother making any eye contact with anybody once he got to the garage, not even you. he just went straight back to his driver's room, hearing the door slam behind you. you sighed as you rubbed your face with your hands in frustration. you walked over to where he locked himself in, you didn't even have to see him to feel the tension that was building in the air as you knocked on the door. "lan...?" your voice muffled against the wooden barrier between you and lando. lando's eyes closed shut when he heard your voice behind the door, he always loved how soft spoken you were to him. he hasn't responded back to you as he stayed where he was sat before deciding opening the door for you. there he is. what he once was; a ray of sunlight beaming through the morning sun to becoming the loud rumbling sound of thunder at night. you furrowed your brows as you quickly but gently swift his hand up against yours while you closed the door behind you. "hey..." you whispered as you brought your hand up to his face, searching for his eyes. lando was not the type to cry but boy, he was just on the verge of losing it. you brought him into a tight embrace, your face nuzzled on the crook of his neck and his arms wrapping around your back. he held you tight as you started to hear him sniffle which ached your heart painfully. you had to fight your tears back because he hated seeing you be so empathetic for him whenever he had a bad race. "i was close... so fucking close..." he mumbled, his voice getting choked up. "i know, my love. i know." you slowly pulled away from him as he quickly wiped the tears building up in his eyes with the palm of his hand before it could stream down his face. you rubbed his arms for comfort as you stood before him, you finally managed to see his eyes. oh so beautiful but it was filled with so much anger and pain. "you did so well out there. and i know your fans wanted you to win as much as you do. we all did. but sometimes things just doesn't go our way..." you said, running your fingers through the side of his head, intertwining with his curls. "could never win a race, huh?" he muttered, moving your hand away from him. "i don't know why i got into this sport in the first place. not even good at it." it broke your heart to hear him talk so low about himself. you tilted your head slightly to the side as your brows furrowed when he moved your hand away from him, stopping you from running your fingers through his hair. you didn't let him get away from it when you placed both of your hands on his face, staring directly into his eyes. "you don't have to be a race winner to be a great driver. you are enough." lando looked back into your eyes which eased him a little. he took a deep breath in when his hand found a place down on your lower back, a soft smile appeared on his face which made you smile back at him.
it was that contagious. "in everyone's eyes you're a winner. to me you're a champion." a wave of warmth cruised all over lando's body when you said those words to him. it definitely hit a nerve in his system but in a good way. it didn't take long until lando pulled you in closer to him and placed his lips against yours, gentle and passionate. "i wouldn't know what i would've done if you weren't here..." he said. landonorris and ynusername
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liked by mclaren, user1, user2 and 1,233,754 others landonorris shoulda woulda coulda, right? but i’ve got something better than a podium.
the end x
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The forgotten child
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Pairing's : fem! reader x peter parker, tony stark daughter! x tony stark, tony stark daughter! x peter parker
Warnings: really sad angst, jealousy, daddy issues, neglect, lmk if i missed anything! :)
Summary: dad of the year award? surely isn't going too him
a/n : I know the gif doesn't really match the theme of this story I just really liked it. I did not reread this so please ignore any grammar mistakes. Also, I'm not sure if i wrote a panic attack correctly but I wrote based on what their like for me. hope you all enjoy!
you really tried not to become the forgotten child, always tried you're very hardest to live up to your father expectations, trying to make him proud in hope's he'd show some form of attention.
always studying to get straight a's even through countless anxiety attacks from fear of failing and disappointing your father.
all you ever wanted was reassurance, and if you ever got lucky enough a "You did a good job" after getting a high score on a test.
but it never came, it would forever be something you longed to hear. he would usually just mumble a small, quiet "congrats" as his mind stayed focused on his work and his eyes stuck to the blueprint laid out on the table Infront of him.
you always tried you're best not to feel jealous whenever your father held morgan, you had no ressentiment towards morgan whatsoever, in fact she was the one that kept you smiling most days. although you couldn't help but feel your heart tighten from jealousy as you watched them have daddy daughter time
you really did try you're best to be happy for your younger sister, but you couldn't ignore that aching feeling. all you wanted was the attention she had that your heart ached so desperately for, but it never came despite your countless attempts.
you we're astound to hear a new avenger had been recruited, you always enjoyed meeting new people. mainly because they gave you attention they didn't even know you craved.
you always seeked to see the best in people, no matter what the circumstances we're. including peter parker, there was nothing wrong with him, he wasn't a bad person in fact quite a good one, and if you weren't so envious of him you possibly could have been friends with the boy. but you watched how peter and your father clicked so easily becoming like father and son.
it made the knots in your stomach tighten as you watched them spend time together, it made you feel as if something was wrong with you, like maybe if you tried harder or changed, he'd give you the attention you deserved.
your mother, pepper always said he loved you just as much as he loved morgan or even peter, but you knew the truth as much as you ignored it you knew. but oh, how you wish he did.
"Mom, I'm home" you called out knowing if father was home, he wouldn't answer you. after not receiving an answer, you decided to look through the house in search of your mother, after a couple of minutes searching you still hadn't found her and decided she probably went out and took morgan with her. you heard talking but it sounded like your father, and peter?? "what's peter doing here?" you wondered. you decided to peak you're head through the door and saw peter and tony standing with their backs faced away from you, working on some upgrades for peter's suit.
"you're a pretty great kid peter" tony told him as he smiled at him patting his shoulder. a wave of jealously hit your chest as you watched them, your throat tightening. "Thank you, Mr. stark," peter smiled cheekily as your fingers clenched into a fist at your side.
"Becoming like my son."
once those words left Tony's lips, your mouth went dry, your head aching as you backed away from the door as quietly as possible, you're breathing picking up rapidly. you quickly made your way to your room, tears forming in your eyes, you walked into your room and shut the door softly as your hands started shaking as you paced around your room quickly, trying to stop the tears from rolling down your cheeks. you never liked crying, it made you feel weak.
you're breathing came out in heavy gasp as you struggled to breathe. you leaned against the wall coughing as you squeezed your eyes shut as you tried to stop the words from replaying in your mind.
"Becoming like my son" continuously echoed through your head as soft sobs left your lips, you didn't want to feel this way, envious of what your father and peter had. it's not peter's fault about what your father feels about you so why hold him accountable. he'll never love you, at least not like he loves peter. you can't figure out why? you always tried you're best to impress him, but nothing seemed to be enough for him, it's like he didn't even care about your existence.
you stumbled over to your bed, taking deep breathes as your body grew exhausted from crying. you plopped down on your bed tiredly as you snuggled up against your blanket that was where your pillows we're supposed to be, you grabbed a pillow and hugged it too sleep.
you didn't want to put the blame on peter because it wasn't his fault, but a little piece of your heart blamed peter parker.
a/n: CLIFFHANGER!?!? I decided to leave it for now because I haven't come up with an ending that I thought fit the way I wanted so if you guys have ideas, please let me know. reblog's are highly appreciated, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed!
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fanficimagery · 3 months
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Violent Little Thing
To the Sons of Anarchy, you're just Happy's neighbor that doesn't care for drama or the fact that they wear kuttes. But in actuality, you've dealt and probably have done far worse, and it isn't until you're kidnapped that they find out your secret.
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Author's Note: Long time no see, huh? Does this mean I'm back? Hell no. This has been sitting in my drafts since mid-2023 and thought it was time to go out. For never having seen more than a few episodes, I love these SOA boys. I'm not super familiar with the lingo or clubhouse etiquette, so this is gonna take place away from that particular setting. Trigger warning for graphic violence and attempted sexual assault (it doesn't get far). Reader is gonna be a little… off the rails. Blame all the dark romance I've been reading lmao.
Before moving into your new home, you knew it was going to be a fixer upper. Fortunately for you, you loved working with your hands, and after having been banished to Charming in hopes of calming your inner demons, you were going to have a lot of time to do just that. But the joke was on your family because there was no calming your demons. People just needed to learn to not piss you the fuck off.
When you get to the house, however, you see that a majority of the work has already been done for you. The only thing left for you to do is paint the walls, rearrange furniture, and unbox your belongings. The electricity and water are already turned on, and wifi has been installed with your password on a sticky note.
The master bedroom is huge and you love it, but you don't have nearly enough belongings to fill it. Your queen-sized bed looks tiny and you immediately want something bigger. So heading back outside to your vehicle, you grab your bag that has your laptop inside and head back in. Setting up at your kitchen island, you search for a place that will deliver any type of food and beverage. You find a pizzeria just on the outskirts of town that will deliver to Charming, so you place a quick order. It's a forty minute wait period, so to pass the time you start looking up bedroom ideas.
You run across a California king bed, but none really catch your eye. What does catch your eye, however, are the DIY beds that touch from one side of the wall to the other. You take your laptop back to your bedroom so see if it's do-able, and come to the conclusion that it is. You'll have to add some floating shelves since you won't be able to have bedside tables, but that's perfectly fine with you. You then take the time to get down the measurements of your room because you still have to situate your dresser and mount your TV to the wall, and you need to make sure everything will fit.
Eventually your food gets there and, sitting at the kitchen island, you dig in. You slowly eat and drink your fill, and then place any leftovers in the already cool refrigerator.
Needing some bathroom necessities and sheets for your current bed, you unload your vehicle. You place each box in their respective rooms, but leave them mostly boxed up. And not wanting to get any TV's mounted or bed fully put together since you still have to paint the walls, you remain on your laptop to pass the time and send messages to your family to let them know you're okay.
It takes you a couple of weeks to build your bed frame, get in your special ordered mattress, and paint the walls to your liking. You do most of your building in the driveway, so you've become accustomed to the people living on your street, waving at them as they pass or call out a greeting. But there's one individual everyone seems to steer clear of or avoid eye contact with, and that's your next door neighbor who rides a motorcycle and proudly wears a Sons of Anarchy kutte.
You had first seen the intimidating, bald man when he showed up a couple days after you moved in. You'd looked up when you heard the rumblings of engines and watched two motorcycles pull into the driveway next door. You paused hammering for a moment, nodded at the two men who took a moment to stare back, and then went back to work.
Over the next few days, men came and went from next door. And each time, they were intrigued watching you work. But eventually your bed frame was finished and you had to situate it in your bedroom. Maneuvering the mattress was no easy feat, but you were not about to ask for help, and it didn't take you long to finally finish furnishing your home to your liking.
As busy as you've been, you haven't really had the time to eat a home cooked meal. So after everything, you took a trip to the grocery store and bought hundreds of dollars of food and drink to stock your kitchen with.
The air is finally cool and crisp, so all the windows to your home are wide open. You'd been feeling a little restless, so you opted to cook a meal that would keep you busy. Enchiladas, rice, and beans is one of your favorite meals, so after making sure you have everything, you put a pot of beans to cook. They have to cook for a few hours, so while that's going on you get online to check in with your family.
When the beans are done, you get started on browning hamburger meat. Setting a majority of the meat aside, you use only a bit for the enchilada sauce. You pour in water, flour, spices, and some canned chili until it's to your liking, and then heat up some corn tortillas before you start rolling the enchiladas. After they're in a pan that holds far too many for only you, you pour the enchilada sauce on top before shredding some cheese atop of it. Once that's in the oven, you get started on a pan of rice.
It's when the rice is boiling that your doorbell rings. A little tired and more than a little hungry, you grab up your beer after turning off the rice, and take a swig of it on your way to the door. Since the door is wide open, you can easily see who's standing just on the other side of the screen door. It's one of the Sons, one of the only two with brown skin that you've seen so far. But this isn't the intimidating bald one, this is the one with a shaved mohawk down the center of his head and a killer smile.
You arch an eyebrow at him as he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and you take another swig of beer as you lean against the door jamb. "Yes?"
The corner of his eyes crinkle as his smile widens. "Hi. Uh, me and my boys are chilling next door and we couldn't help but smell whatever it is you're eating. You mind sharing the name of the place where you picked up your food from so we can go get some too? Smells really good."
Your lips twitch. "Who said I picked anything up?"
"You cooking?" His eyes widen. "Bullshit."
You huff a laugh and nod. "YN."
"Juice."
"Mhmm." You push the door open just enough so you can lean out and peer next door, catching sight of two men sitting sideways on the seats of their bike. "Just you three?"
"Yeah."
You hum again and then back into your home as the screen door shuts quietly. "I've been watching you guys come and go, nodding cordially when our gazes clash," you say. "If you're willing to leave your shoes by the front door, you're more than welcome to pull up a seat at the table."
"Forreal?"
"Sure." You shrug. "I never learned how to cook for one, so I might have made an entire tray of enchiladas that will most likely go to waste if someone else doesn't eat them."
"Oh hell yeah." Juice turns, cupping his hands around his mouth as he says, "Yo! Free meal! Get over here!"
You watch as one man eagerly gets off his bike, whooping in delight of free food. The other, the one you believe actually lives next door, casually gets up at a leisurely pace. You push open the screen door as they're stomping up your porch steps, and Juice introduces you to Tig and Happy. You do your best not to smile because Happy does not look quite so happy, but he grunts a greeting when you tell them your name.
As Juice steps into your home, he's quick to kick off his shoes and tell his boys to do the same. They do and then you lead the way to the kitchen, pointing at your table. "Siéntate."
"Ohhh. A Spanish lady," Tig muses as Juice translates for him to sit down as you instructed. When you glance at him, his wild-crazed gaze makes you snort. "I like 'em a little spicy."
"And I like 'em less talkative." Happy and Juice both snort, and Tig beams at your sassy retort. "Beer or soda?"
Tig and Happy take beers, and Juice takes a soda. You serve them each their own plate of three enchiladas, a scoop of rice, and a scoop of beans. You serve yourself last with a glass of water, and finally take a seat to dig into all your hard work.
"Goddamn," Tig grumbles after his first bite of everything. "This is some Mexican restaurant level shit here."
You grin as you eat at your own pace, feeling content at watching three grown men finding your cooking delicious.
"So what's your story?" Juice asks. "In all the times I've come around, it's just you here."
"That's because it is just me here."
"Why Charming?"
You take a moment to swallow your food, washing it all down with a sip of water as you lean back in your chair. Then glancing between each man and the patches on their kuttes, you ask, "Do you want the real story or the story I'm feeding anyone who asks in polite small talk when they see a new face in the store?"
All three men slow their eating, their gazes sliding up to you in surprise.
"What's the story you tellin' the locals?" Tig asks.
Placing a hand over your heart and changing your voice so you sound like a southern belle, you say, "Just that I just left a very nasty relationship and my family thought I deserved a fresh start away from the man who dared lift a fist in my direction."
Tig snorts. "And the real story?"
You chuckle as your voice goes back to normal. "My family thought I needed to calm my inner demons, so they banished me to Charming. Joke's on them, I've made peace with my demons. It's not my fault people keep pissing me off."
Tig and Juice laugh as Happy smirks at you.
"What'd you do to earn banishment?" Juice wonders.
You shrug. "I wasn't joking about the nasty relationship. I just leave out the small detail that once I was out of the hospital, I went crawling back to my dickhead of an ex-fiancé and plotted my revenge."
"Crazy and you can cook. Marry me," Tig says.
You shake your head at him, eating a bit more before finishing the story. "I was raised to take no shit from anyone. So after he put me in the hospital, I made him believe all was well. Then one night, when he least suspected it, I slipped him a little something so he was conscious, but paralyzed, and set fire to his house."
The three men freeze, but you continue eating as if it was no big deal.
"Did you- did you kill him?" Juice warily asks.
"Unfortunately, no." You pout and then laugh at their awed expressions. "He had nosy neighbors so they were able to get the firetrucks there as soon as they smelled smoke. But when my family found out, they said I was sloppy, so I got shipped out here."
"Yoo.. what the fuck?" A moment of quiet ensues and then Juice is laughing. "That has to be the craziest shit I've heard in a while."
"I highly doubt that." Your gaze drops to the patch on his kutte. "I'm sure you've heard, seen, or taken part of some pretty crazy shit." When you meet his gaze again, you smirk. "Am I wrong?"
Juice grins and then looks at Happy. "Your neighbor is cool as shit. I'm kind of jealous." The air of amusement lingers as everyone continues to eat. "So what do you do for work?"
"I do some IT stuff for my family." You shrug. "I can work from anywhere, so I guess I'll still be doing that. What about you boys? What do you do other than ride?"
"We work at Teller Automotive," Tig says. "Only car garage in town."
"Really? Do you guys have any openings this week? I need my oil changed."
"Sure. We'll leave a number before we leave."
The rest of dinner is spent with the men telling you what there is to do in Charming and asking how long you plan on staying. You're not really sure, but if you end up liking Charming then you have no issues setting down roots. And then when dinner is done and you've seemed to exhaust all the small talk topics, you plate up the leftovers and send the men on their way.
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Over the next couple of weeks, you befriend your neighbor. You take your vehicle into Teller Automotive and Happy takes it upon himself to take care of it for you. Tig and Juice had kept you company, and introduced you to a few of their other brothers when they took interest in their new friend. You were invited to one of their parties and, after some pressuring, you went. Nothing shocked you, not even a few members of the club getting head in plain sight, but Happy apparently shocked everyone else by gluing himself to your side. According to the club President, Happy was normally found in the ring outside or fucking his way through croweaters, but that night he made sure that no one bothered you.
Then more often than not, Happy reaped the benefits of your cooking and appeared for dinner before taking leftovers home for lunch.
In such a short period of time, you grow accustomed to the stern biker's company.
One morning, you're startled awake by the doorbell ringing and a fist pounding on the door. You sit up and scoot out of bed, hurrying towards your front door in a groggy, yet panicked state. But before you pull the door open, you peer out one of the thin windows on one side of your door. It takes a moment for you to realize it's Happy and that the sky behind him is still dark.
Unlocking the door, you pull it open. "What the fuck, Hap? What's going on?"
With a duffel bag hanging off his shoulder, Happy looks you up and down. "You always answer the door like this or am I just special?"
You freeze and then glance down, rolling your eyes when you remember you went to sleep in a gray wife beater, that makes it very obvious you're not wearing a bra, and a pair of hipster underwear. "Neither. You're lucky."
"Sure." You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks. "I forgot the bills were due and everything got shut off. Can I crash here until I get it sorted?"
Without missing a beat, you say, "Yeah," and step back from the door, opening it wider. "Shoes off. You know where the bathroom is and I'm pretty sure you can find the guest bedroom." You yawn and lock the door behind your friend. "What time is it?"
"Little after five."
"Happy," you whine. "S'too fuckin' early. M'going back to bed." As you pad back to your room, you don't hear any footsteps behind you. "Stop staring at my ass!"
"Can't help it. Might start dropping by early now."
"Do it and die, Lowman." Stopping and turning, you point an accusatory finger at him. "Do not come in between me and my bed. I will murder you."
His lips twitch. "Worth it."
. .
. .
It takes less than a week for Happy to get his power and water turned back on, and then he's back at his house. Though there are times when he shows up for dinner, dropping off on your couch when he's too tired to walk back home. Normally you would mind, but Happy knew how to clean up after himself, so you didn't mind that it seemed he was practically half moved in.
One night, you get a call from your brother that they need you to come in and work on cracking the passwords on a few laptops they'd gotten their hands on. You agreed, but first you needed to arrange someone to look after your house.
The next afternoon, you show up to Teller Automotive. You find Happy on a smoke break and ask him for a favor. When you ask him if he can keep an eye on your house for two days, he seems surprised, even more so when you give him a copy of your house key. You tell him he can crash there and eat whatever food you have so long as he doesn't trash the place. He readily agrees.
And when you return two days later, you realize you should have specified that he could crash in the guest bedroom. Finding a nearly naked Happy in your bed isn't half bad, nor is the firmness of his ass when you smack a hand down on it to wake him up.
Immediately he jerks awake, twisting his body as he sits up, and pointing a gun right at your face. You laugh and lick the tip of the barrel while wiggling your eyebrows at him. "Wakey, wakey."
"You're a fuckin' pyscho," he grumbles, lowering his gun.
"Yeah, well duh. You should have had that figured out a long time ago." He rolls his eyes before turning to drop down face first back into your pillow, shoving his gun back under it. You grin. "Was there something wrong with the guest room you've been using?"
"No. I just didn't know how fuckin' massive your bed was. It looked lonely without a body in it."
"Mhmm. I'm sure." He grunts and you chuckle as you crawl out of the bed. "I'm gonna go pick up some breakfast from the diner. Want anything?"
"Anything and everything."
"Gotcha. I'll text you when I'm on my way back."
. .
. .
The dynamic between you and Happy ended up changing after that fateful morning. When he slept over, it was in your bed. You hadn't crossed the line past lingering touches or innuendos, but it was a given that he was the only person allowed in your bed. You didn't care for the croweaters at the parties his club put on every Friday night, but the two of you made a statement when he rolled up one night with you seated behind him.
The Sons nearly gaped as Happy amped up his protectiveness, pulling you between his parted thighs as he took a seat on a stool at the bar. Tig and Juice had walked over, and Happy perched you on his knee as you joked with his brothers. The croweaters didn't bother to hide their glares or sneers, but you merely smirked at their cattiness and took to scratching the back of Happy's head with your nails when you'd draped your arm around his shoulders.
"So, is this a thing?" Jax, the club president, had asked.
You shrugged and grinned. "We're friends."
"Friends don't stake claims."
"We're possessive friends."
Happy had snorted but didn't correct you.
From there on out, it was known that you were Happy's.
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The Sons are relaxing at the clubhouse after a long day's work when blacked out Escalades and BMW's pull up. The atmosphere immediately goes from relaxed to tense, and the Sons flank their President when he walks out to the lot to see what the deal is.
Thug after thug exit the vehicles before opening the doors on two Escalades, ushering out four well-dressed men. None of them look like they'd be a person to fuck with, so Jax is extremely curious as to what the fuck is going on.
"Can I help you?" He asks, eyebrow arches as tattooed thugs flank the apparent important men.
"I hope you can." The one in charge reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a picture. "What do you know about this woman?"
When Jax is shown a picture, he mentally curses. It's Happy's neighbor and a friend to many Sons. He keeps his expression neutral, before shrugging. "Nothing. Should I?"
"She's my baby sister."
"Oh hell…"
"YN never misses check-in and she's missed two," the man explains. "It's come to my attention that she's made some connections to Happy Lowman, Juan Ortiz, and Tig Trager- all Sons of Anarchy. Do you understand why I'm here now?"
"Fuck, man, we didn't know. What can we do?"
"You can start by questioning your men to see if they'd heard from her."
At that, Tig steps forward. "I haven't seen or spoken with YN in a little over a week."
"What about Juan or Happy?"
Jax looks at his gathered men, frowning. "Where are Juice and Happy?" No one says anything, looking as confused as their President when they don't see their familiar faces. Then raising his voice, he asks, "Has anyone heard from Happy or Juice today?" Nothing. No one utters a peep. "What about yesterday?"
"Jax." Opie has his phone to ear, shaking his head. "Both are going to voicemail."
"Shit." Then turning around to face the slowly darkening expressions of YN's apparent brothers, Jax asks, "How can we help?"
. .
. .
When your eyes flutter open, every inch of your body is in pain.
"How the fuck does my hair hurt?" You groan. You try to sit up, but realize you're on your side, on dirt and hay, with your hands tied behind your back. "What the actual fuck?" Clearing your vision, you see that you're not alone. Happy and Juice are with you, but they're in chairs with their hands tied behind their backs and looking a little beat up.
"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," Juice tiredly muses.
"What happened?" Maneuvering around some, you manage to sit up.
"Kidnapped," Happy says. "They injected us with some shit, but they gave you too much."
You grimace as you roll your neck. "Dicks." It's dim in the empty barn you're being kept in, but you can see sunlight through the cracks of the walls. There are stalls for animals on either side of you, all empty, and a table filled with various blades and weapons not too far away. Your aching arms are your main priority though, so you move into a crouch and wiggle your tied wrists under your butt. With a grunt, you fall backward and maneuver your hands until they're situated in front of you. "Ah. That's better."
"Get up and grab a blade so we can get the fuck outta here," Happy urges.
You do as you're told, mentally scoffing at the thought that these morons didn't think to bind your ankles. Unfortunately, you're not so lucky as someone had been watching from the shadows. So just as you're reaching for a blade, that someone jumps out at you and roughly pins you against the table.
Bent over with your arms above your head and someone pressed up right against you, you immediately start thrashing and cussing out whoever it is. Happy and Juice shout, and start wriggling in their own seats when a hand then pins you to the table by the back of your neck.
"So close, princesa." A man tuts and you jerk in his hold, but still he persists. Laughter causes you to look up, watching as another two men step out from behind Happy and Juice. "Is that anyway to talk to your host?"
"Fuck. Off."
"Oh, I will." Just then, a hand grips your waist and squeezes, and you freeze. "Just not yet. I have some questions for you."
"Don't you fucking touch her."
When you glance up at Happy, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. You know what he does for the Sons, but you'd never seen that particular dark look or glint in his eyes, and for a moment it steals your breath away. Then you remember that look isn't meant for you, and you squirm a little as the man behind you laughingly presses his pelvis into your ass. "Or what?"
Juice answers, "Or we'll fucking kill you."
That causes all three men to laugh some more.
"Doubtful. But thanks for the laugh." Then the man behind you focuses on you once again. "Besides, my business isn't with you, but with the princesa de la mafia."
You tense. "I don't know anything."
"Aw. Of course, you don't," the man coos. "I would hope that your brothers are smart enough to never let a woman in on their secrets. But then again, you are the baby sister of one of the most dangerous mafias in the United States. I'm pretty sure you know something that I can use to hurt those brothers of yours."
You manage to angle your head just enough so you can make eye contact with Happy. He meets your stare, and you see it subtly soften, but then he's glaring at the man holding you once more. "I won't sell out my brothers."
"No?" The man releases your neck, only to trail his fingers down from your ribs to hips. "I don't want to mess up such a pretty face, but you do know there are other ways to break you and get you to talk, right?"
And then before you can answer, he's grabbing the back hem of your shirt and ripping it down the middle.
You yelp just as Happy shouts, "You motherfucker!", and squirm to get away. Across from you, Happy and Juice are pummeled a few times until they stop trying to break the chairs they're bound to.
The man rubs a hand up and down your back, fiddling with your bra strap, but never unsnapping it. You feel gross, but it's only when the guy reaches around to fiddle with the button on your jeans does red cloud your vision.
"Hey, Hap?" You manage to meet Happy's livid gaze. "Remember when I spoke about my demons?"
"Yeah."
"They desperately wanna come out to play."
"Shut the fuck up, you whore!" The man slaps you across the back of your head and you grit your teeth, biding your time.
Happy slowly smirks. "Then let them out to play, baby."
The moment the button on your jeans is opened, you scream at a pitch that startles every man in the room. Then pushing up as much as you can, you headbutt the man behind you. As he swears, you reach for the first handle you see and are pleasantly surprised to find a small machete. Then without even thinking, you whirl around and swing the blade, catching your would-be abuser in the neck with the blade.
Blood sprays as you immediately tug the blade free, leaving the man to try and cover his wound as he splutters on his own life force. From the corner of your eye, you see someone running at you, but another swing of the machete finds a home in the second man's face.
As the man falls back with a scream unlike anything you've ever heard, he takes the machete with him. Happy and Juice shout at you, and it's then you remember the third. He's running at you, a small blade in hand, and you reach for the nearest weapon. It's a metal bat and just as you rear back to swing, he swings first. The blade makes contact with your bicep, slicing it open, but you only feel the sting of it after you swing.
The bat clips the man in the jaw, stunning him. As he stumbles back, you advance. He sloppily swipes at you again, but you dodge it. The second hit with the bat hits true, catching him in the temple.
The man falls and you're quick to stand over him, bringing the bat down a third time.
The bat connecting for a fourth time makes Juice cringe, but Happy proudly watches on.
Thwack.
Thwack. A scream.
Crack!
"Shit. I think that was his skull," Juice mutters.
YN screams as she continues to wail on the man with her bat, caving his skull further and further in, to the point there's now a puddle of blood beneath his head and splattering with every pull back.
The barn doors open, and Happy and Juice tense when armed men start to file in, but they exhale with relief when they see Jax, Tig, Chibs, and Opie in the mix. All the unfamiliar men take in the scene with an air of indifference, but it's the expressions of the Sons that almost make Happy laugh out loud. They'd only known YN to laugh, feed them, or threaten the croweaters with violence. None of them, with the exception of himself, Juice, and Tig, knew the violence she was capable of.
"Uh, a little help?" Juice calls out. "My arms are killing me over here."
Tig rushes over, pulling out a blade to cut his brothers free. "What the fuck happened?"
"One of them threatened to rape her and she just lost her shit."
Juice is cut free first, and he immediately stands, rubbing his raw wrists. As Jax checks in with him, Happy is cut free.
"Boss, should we stop this?" Someone asks.
Happy looks over in time to see a guy in a suit grimace when blood is flung onto his pristine boots. "Do you want to get in the middle of that? You know how YN is. Let's just let her run out of steam."
As the guy steps back in line with a nod of agreement, Happy huffs and stands. He stalks over to YN until he's behind her. Then when she raises the bat high above her head, Happy lunges. He manages to grip the bat where it isn't slick and pulls it from YN's grasp.
Still very much livid, especially now that your weapon's been ripped from you, you whirl around to start screaming expletives and pummel whoever it is with your bound fists. Instead, arms are wrapped around you, keeping your arms stuck between your chest and another, and there's a gruff voice in your ear saying, "It's over. It's over, baby. The cavalry's here. You can stop now."
It takes a long minute for the voice to infiltrate the fog of rage, and then a moment to realize who's speaking.
When your struggles cease, Happy leans back a little to look down at you, but with his arms still wrapped around you. "You back?"
"Y-Yeah. M'sorry."
Happy grunts and leans his face closer to yours, and for a moment you think he's about to kiss you. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours as his eyes close, and he exhales with relief. "Don't be. That was hot as fuck."
You huff a quiet laugh as a bout of silence ensues, but then one of your brothers decides to ruin it.
"Hey, Lowman, we'll give you a million dollars if you give her your last name and take her off our hands."
You jerk in Happy's hold, turning to glare at all your smirking brothers. "Fuck off!" Laughter ensues at your disgruntled expression before Juice fills them in on what happened, and then Happy is tugging on your bound wrists so you look back at him before finally cutting you free. "Thank you."
One hand grasps the hair at the back of your head, gripping a little tight as he holds you in place so he can press a kiss to your forehead. "Let's get you home. You're covered in blood, and I need to take a look at your arm."
Glancing at your arm, you shrug. It stings, yeah, but it doesn't seem deep enough. And then just as you go to take a step, Happy swoops you up into a bridal carry.
It's then you notice that you, Happy, and Juice are all barefoot, and it's Juice who answers your unasked question. "You sleep like the dead, girl. Happy and I heard them enter the house, but they still managed to get the drop on us."
"I'm getting you a goddamn dog," Happy grumbles in response.
"Only if you clean up after it." He grunts and you grin. If he wanted a guard dog for you, then he was cleaning up any messes.
Outside the barn, suggestions are made about where to go now. Jax suggests the clubhouse, but at the wrinkling of your nose, Happy says you'll be going home. Your brothers mention not everyone can go because that many vehicles will draw attention, so Jax suggests sending your brothers' men back to the club with Opie and Chibs. They agree, and then you're loaded up into an Escalade with your brothers and Happy.
When you get to your house, Tig mentions that they had cleaned up and straightened your furniture after they figured out what had happened. You thank him and let Happy carry you to your bathroom while Juice takes the guest bathroom.
As Happy sets you on the counter, you watch as he gets the first aid kit from beneath your sinks. "They're gonna talk."
"Let them. The club already thinks we're fuckin'."
You snort. "Please. They should know by now that I'd never settle for a relationship where the guy gets to fuck around when he's on the road." Happy freezes with the antiseptic spray bottle in his hand before shaking himself free of thought and spritzing your arm where you were cut.
"Is that why you haven't given me the go-ahead to slip between your thighs?"
You smile at his blunt question and then wince when he wipes your arm clean. "Pretty much. I'm not a fan of my partner sticking his dick or tongue in some rando pussy, then coming home and doing the same to me." Happy grunts and you arch an eyebrow at him. "Would you be okay with me visiting my brothers and sucking someone's dick before coming home to you?"
"Fuck no."
"Exactly." You grin triumphantly. "So, unless you plan to stop dicking down croweaters or sweetbutts, the most you'll get out of me is some cuddling."
Stepping back, Happy tosses the used gauze pads into the trashcan and then reaches into your shower stall to turn on the water. Then looking at you, he demands, "Strip."
"If I fully strip, there's no going back. You're mine and mine alone." You hop off the counter, slipping off your ruined shirt without batting an eye. "I was calm and collected at your parties before because we're friends, but that all changes after this. I won't take it easy on any woman touching what's mine."
Happy smirks as he eyes you in your bra and jeans, and then strips off his shirt. "Good."
You've seen the man shirtless only a handful of times, but seeing his ink never fails to give you pause. You reach out for the first time, tracing the snake tattoo that takes up a majority of his chest and upper abdomen, before you trace the various happy faces on the side of his waist. You feel his abdominal muscles twitch and then between one heartbeat and the next, Happy's crowding you against the sink counter and angling your head up.
His kiss is as aggressive as you figured it'd be, his tongue sliding against yours and teeth digging into your bottom lip. You give as good as you get, nails digging into either side of Happy's waist as you kiss him. Then when the need for air arises, you pull back and try to catch your breath. "Well okay then."
Moving out from Happy's reach, you strip, uncaring of your nudity and then step into the steaming shower. Happy isn't too far behind you, but you're not too interested in seeing him fully naked as you are cleansing a stranger's blood from your body. Standing under the waterfall, you watch as the shower floor turns red. Happy presses in close behind you so he's under the water as well, and you straighten up before leaning your head back onto his shoulder, smiling softly at his hardness that presses against your ass.
"No funny business, Lowman. At least not until we've eaten a fuck ton and slept for a day or two."
He grunts. "Agreed."
You immediately start washing your hair, and you're surprised when Happy takes it upon himself to lather up some soap on your bath pouf to wash your body. For the most part he behaves himself, but when his thumb oh so casually brushes over your nipples, you slap his thigh and pay him back when it's your turn to wash him. He grunts when you take his dick in hand and thrusts into your soapy palm, but you quickly release him to finish washing his body.
"Fuckin' tease."
"You started it."
You get out of the shower first, smirking as Happy tells you he'll be out in a moment. You know exactly what that moment's going to entail since his hand is already stroking his cock before you can even find a towel.
"You gonna want something to eat?"
"Send Tig to get burgers and fries."
"Alright."
Back in your room, you can hear a muttered conversation from somewhere in your house. Clutching the towel around your body, you stick your head out your door. "Tig!"
"What?"
"Happy said to go get us some burgers, fries, and Cokes!"
"Do I look like a fuckin' maid?!" Tig appears in the hall, hands on his hips.
You grin at him. "No, but I do have a maid's costume. Wanna try it on?" Tig gapes and you laugh at his expression. "Come on, Tig. Please? You can grab some cash from the junk drawer."
"Fine. But only because I know Hap will murder me if I don't, not because I'm picturing you in a teeny tiny maid's outfit."
"Sure, buddy. Thank you!"
Tig grumbles as he turns to march out of your house and then you worry about getting dressed. You dress in nothing but a sports bra and boy short underwear, and then with a reluctant sigh you head to the front. Everyone's in your kitchen, sitting around your table, and your brothers groan when they see how little you're wearing.
"Oh, shut up. You've seen me in clothes like this before."
"In tights, not underwear," one brother grumbles.
"Just be glad they're boy shorts and not a g-string."
All your brothers groan yet again whereas the Sons find the interaction amusing. You take a seat at the table, grimacing a little and touching at your raw wrists.
"Let me get that for you," Juice says. He leaves to, no doubt, grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. Then taking a seat next to you, he asks, "Did Hap disinfect your arm?"
"Yeah. Just spritz it again and wrap it. It'll be fine."
As soon as Juice gets to work, Happy enters the kitchen in nothing but a pair of jeans hanging off his hips.
"Jesus," one of your brother's mumbles. "Are people suddenly allergic to clothes around here?"
You grin as Jax arches an eyebrow at his friend. "You have clothes here?" Happy nods and sits, and you quickly introduce him to your brothers while Jax looks at Juice to say, "You seem to know your way around this place too."
"It's because they practically live here when they're not at the clubhouse," you say. "Hap's moved his shit in my room, and Tig and Juice have slowly taken over my guest room." Then glancing at your brothers as if you didn't just drop somewhat of a bombshell on Jax, you ask, "So what the hell happened?"
Juice taps above one of your raw wrists and you situate them so he can disinfect them.
Your eldest brother meets your gaze. "There's a new family in town- Jimenez. They're trying to make a name for themselves and thought they could intimidate us." You scoff as your other brother's chuckle. "When they didn't get the reaction they were looking for, they came up with the bright idea to target the weak link. They thought they had the perfect candidate when they found out we had a baby sister."
"Joke's on them, you're fuckin' psycho," another brother muses.
"I'm not-"
"We literally walked in on you bashing a guy's head in."
"And let's not forget the whole reason you're in Charming is because you tried to burn down your ex's house while he was still inside."
"Or that one time you wrecked your car into that other girl's car all because she broke your friend's heart."
"That cunt cheated on him. She deserved every bit of karma I dished out."
Jax snorts, shaking his head. "Christ. You and Hap are gonna be a pain in my ass."
"You know it."
Tig shows up just after Juice is finished with your wrists. Juice then dishes out the food to you, Happy, and himself, and you get up to grab drinks from the fridge. As you settle back down, Jax and your brothers watch in surprise at how the three of you go to town on your provided meals.
"So, what exactly does one do as a mafia princess?" Jax wonders.
Chewing the food in your mouth, you only answer him after taking a drink of your soda. "I'm the family hacker. If they need a computer hacked into to gather information or scrub information, I get called in."
"So, in other words, you're female Juice," Tig says.
You laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." Juice grins and you reach over to fist bump him.
You continue eating as Jax speaks with your brothers, listening as this small portion of the Sons of Anarchy are filled in about what business your family gets up to. When you're finished eating, you stand and start gathering up the trash to toss. While you're up, you grab yourself a glass of water and some Ibuprofen. Then after downing four pills, you head back to reclaim your seat at the table, only for Happy to gently grab you by the arm and tug you down onto his thigh.
Your brothers don't care about your new chair, but Jax, Juice, and Tig can't help but raise an eyebrow.
"So, is this a thing?" Jax wonders, gesturing between you and Happy.
As you drape an arm behind Happy's shoulders to settle more against him, you smirk. "What's the matter, Teller? Scared?"
He huffs and then stares at Happy, but the man beneath you merely says, "Gonna start drawing up a crow. Does that answer your question?"
The kitchen goes eerily quiet and then…
"Holy shit. Hap's actually gonna take a woman," Juice says in awe.
"This is a momentous occasion. We gotta throw a rager." The glint in Tig's eyes has you narrowing your own eyes at him.
"You just wanna see a girl fight. Don't you?"
"Hap's been possessive of you since you first showed up to the clubhouse, but now that you're staking a claim, the thought might have crossed my mind."
"Are you sure you wanna see that?" One of your brother muses. "YN might traumatize a few poor souls."
Tig smiles. "I look forward to it."
You roll your eyes at Tig's excitement about possibly seeing you fight and your brothers chuckle. The Sons really had no idea what they were in for when someone tested your patience.
Standing, you keep a hand on Happy's shoulder as you say, "Well as much as I love, like, and appreciate all of you, you need to go. I'm exhausted and I still need to sleep off whatever I was drugged with."
Jax grins. "Is that code for us to get the hell out so you can bang Happy's brains out?"
Snorting, you shake your head as your brothers all grimace. "No. I'm seriously exhausted. The fucking will come later after we're well rested. I have a feeling I'm gonna need loads of energy for Hap."
Your brothers all make noises of disgust as they stand, and you take a moment to hug and kiss each of their cheeks on their way out. You promise to call when you're feeling better and then you're ushering the Sons out as well.
Locking up after everyone has left, you head to your room where you find Happy stripping off his jeans. He's in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs as he pulls your blanket back before sliding under and you pad over to do the same. You meet him in the middle, laying on your side as you drape one arm over his abdomen. With your head on his arm, you snuggle closer and Happy reaches for your leg to have it draped over his thigh so you're as close as can be without actually laying on top of him.
"Were you serious? About the crow?" You ask right before you drift off.
"Does that freak you out?"
"Not really. But if I get your mark, you're getting mine."
Happy huffs. "And just what is your mark?"
"My lips and name." You run your hand across his abdomen before walking your fingers down to one of the few empty patches of skin, below his belly button and right beneath where the snake's tail curls. "Right here."
"Above my dick, you mean?"
"Mhmm."
Happy grunts and then squeezes you a little tighter to him. "We'll see, princess. Now get some sleep."
697 notes · View notes
amomentsescape · 3 months
Note
can I also request to yandere slashers and sinclair brothers with a pregnant reader that gets kidnapped if thats ok? Thank you hope im not requesting too much, no pressure to make it 😅
Yandere! Slashers with Pregnant Reader That Gets Kidnapped
Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)
Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester
Warnings: Yandere behavior, mentions of pregnancy, typical Slasher behavior
A/N: No worries! Thank you for requesting :) I also apologize if my last couple of Slasher fics have been a bit short. I've been stuck in a brain fog this past week.
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Freddy Krueger
The moment Freddy sees you gone, he just laughs
You couldn't be that stupid to just leave, could you?
You can't escape him when he can show up at any point no matter where you are
However, him popping up and seeing you being held hostage by someone else...
Freddy's smile fades
Of course you wouldn't leave him
But who dares to have put you and his child at risk?
The moment he sees them, he doesn't even care
He immediately slashes their throat and picks you up, not wasting any time taking you back to where you belong
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Michael Myers
The kidnapper was careless
Don't they know that Michael would walk to the ends of the earth for you and his child?
His abilities know no bounds
He finds your location within a single night
All you can hear at first are screams and splatters, not sure what is going on outside your little room
But the moment you see Michael, you immediately relax
You weren't sure he would come for you
But here he was
And without a word, he has you lifted in his bloody arms as he walks you back home
Just know he won't be letting you out of his sight at all now
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Jason Voorhees
He can hear your screams echo throughout the woods
He knows this area like the back of his hand anyways, so it doesn't take long to locate you
The way you're holding onto your stomach, trying to protect the child from any harm, has Jason seeing nothing but red
He doesn't even want to fool around with the assailant
His machete is plunged into the top of their head before they can even let out a scream
His mood does a complete 180 when he looks back to you, gently taking you in his arms to make sure you weren't hurt
He just sits with you on the ground for a while, rocking you in his arms
He's attempting to comfort you, but there's a part of him that's also trying to comfort himself
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Thomas Hewitt
When he comes home to the door wide open, he immediately panics
You didn't leave him... did you?
He thought you were finally happy
Teary eyed and angered, Thomas storms out into the night to look for you
He had wandered pretty far into the area when he heard your screams
Some crazy family seemed to have taken you from your home
Your screams were immediately cut off by the sound of a chainsaw, cutting right into the door
Your kidnappers jumped up and attempted to flee, but Thomas was quick to catch up
You had your ears covered and your eyes tightly shut when he came back in
He gently pulled your hands down and lifted you up
He carried you home without any hesitation
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Bubba Sawyer
The screams of devastation he lets out can literally be heard from miles around
Doesn't even want to consider that you left him
You've been so good the last few months
There's no way you would have just left like this
After an hour of him frantically searching around the area, he can finally hear your voice
You were talking to the stranger, asking them to please let you go
The fact that they just kept ignoring you made Bubba even more angry
They only finally looked up when they heard the revving of his chainsaw
They didn't even have time to flee before they were cut in half
He runs over to you quickly, placing one hand on your stomach and the other on the side of your face
He was blubbering, promising you he'll do better next time
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Brahms Heelshire
Well this was an incredibly stupid decision on their part
Don't they know that Brahms doesn't ever leave the house?
And wherever you are, he will be too
The kidnapper doesn't even make it out the door with you
The moment Brahms hears your screams, it's over
He emerges from the wall and grabs the kidnapper
You watch as Brahms slams the person's head into the wall, over and over again until they're just a bloody pulp
He storms over to you and grabs you roughly, looking your body over to make sure you and the baby weren't hurt
He traps you in bed with him for the rest of the night
His arms act as a cage, not letting you up for anything
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Norman Bates
Everything is a bit of a blur
He comes home to the place ransacked, you nowhere in sight
You weren't reckless
He knows you wouldn't have done this
He turns to go search for you, and that's when things go black
He finally comes to with you crying in his arms on a dirty floor
An unrecognizable body lays beside him, blood pooling everywhere
But you and his child are safe
That's all that matters now
And he'll make sure nothing like this ever happens again
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Billy Loomis
Billy is immediately in a rage when he sees you're gone
There is no way you're going to leave him
Never
He'll break into every house in this town if he has to
And that's just what he does
It's only after the 7th house that he finds you tied up to a chair
Oh you poor thing
Of course you didn't leave him
The scene before you quickly becomes bloody
A few bodies lie splattered on the floor, Billy tending to the rope around you
He apologizes for letting this happen and kisses you deeply
It's only later that night you hear of 7 families that had been found slashed in their own homes
There really is no limit when it comes to Billy
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Stu Macher
He has a mental breakdown when he sees that you're gone
Goes into a fit of hysterical laughter as he reaches for his knife
He doesn't want to hurt you, but he will if he must
When he hears a scream echo not too far from where he was searching, he sprints to it
And when he sees you being held by some random person, Stu's crazed smile finally drops
He lunges, and things go out of control
Stu is left with a few cuts and bruises, but he doesn't care
He immediately looks you over and makes sure you're not hurt
When he's content, he takes you home and cuddles up with you on the couch, bloody clothes and all
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Vincent Sinclair
Vincent doesn't like to venture too far from home, but he'll do it for you
Seeing that you're gone makes him assume the worse
He marches outside the home, already searching every nook and cranny of this desolate place
And it works out in his favor once he sees you in an old building, knocked unconscious
He smashed his way through the window immediately
The attackers come running towards him, but he was quick to act
You awoke to a bloody mess beside you and a worried Vincent knelt in front of you
He rests his hands on your stomach and you nod, letting him know you and the baby are okay
He's content with this and wraps you in his arms to take you back home
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Bo Sinclair
If he can't have you, no one can
When he's sees you're gone, he assumes you left just like he knew you were going to try
He hunts you down immediately, ready to do what needed to be done, only to see you scared and tied up
Oh, now Bo can't help the growing smile on his face
You didn't want to leave him, and now he can have fun with whoever was stupid enough to do this
Will knock them unconscious and take you both home
He'll make their death a long and painful one
But it's another addition to the wax museum
One that he is most proud of
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Lester Sinclair
He instantly tears up at the idea that you left him
He almost doesn't even want to go after you, but you're also carrying his child
He can't just let you go that easily
He of course checks Ambrose first, and he considers himself lucky to have found you as soon as he did
But seeing you being held by some random person was not what he had planned
Lester's self pity quickly evolves to pure anger
He jumps in and immediately attacks, not even thinking of finding a weapon first
His adrenaline kicks in and it doesn't take long before he kills the kidnapper, suffocating them to death
He then wraps himself up with you, holding you close and apologizing over and over again
1K notes · View notes
wwinterwitch · 11 months
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right person, all the wrong times - anthony bridgerton
summary: you and anthony have been in love with one another from the moment you met, but it seems as though nothing will ever happen between you. after you catch the attention of another gentleman, he realizes perhaps it's time to finally do something about his feelings pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader word count: 7.3K tags: mutual pining, best friends to lovers, angst and fluff, period-typical topics (marriage is everything, gender roles, all that stuff), daphne being match maker as always, kissing, it gets briefly suggestive like once, if i skipped anything please let me know. note: i started this show two days ago and i'm already halfway through season 2. i couldn't hold myself from writing whatever this is and i thought i'll share since it's the longest fic i've ever written. english is not my first language so writing in a way that resembles the show was a whole challenge for me!
a reblog and/or comment really helps me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!
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all masterlists | buy me a coffee
You and Anthony have been best friends for years now. Even when he's a few years older than you, the two of you became inseparable shortly after knowing one another. No one seems to know or understand you quite like he does, and you've become the person he always turns to when he needs someone.
It happened just a few months after you were introduced into society. You were lucky to bump into him that night in Ms. Danbury's ballroom, and after repeated apologies and quick introductions, you stayed with him for the rest of the event.
Your families were excited to see the two of you talking, already picturing the moment when he shows up to your house and asks for your hand in marriage. However, as time passed, it was evident for everyone that nothing was ever going to happen.
And as embarrassing as it is to admit, you were just as disappointed to realize Anthony considered you to be just a friend. From day one, you were absolutely captivated by him, and you truly thought he was as interested as you were. Unfortunately, it seems as though your feelings have never been –and never will be– reciprocated.
Of course, you never let that stop you from trying to find in others what you so effortlessly found in Anthony from the moment you laid eyes on him. It hasn't been easy, but you continue to look for that special someone.
Despite everyone knowing about your proximity to the Viscount, a fair share of suitors were always there available for you. Some move past the mere privilege of dancing with you if they prove to be interesting enough, but none of them have made it far enough.
Perhaps the search would be easier if you weren't deeply in love with your best friend, but there's no way you'll ever be able to control how you feel. You can't control the butterflies in your stomach when you notice him approaching you, or how it seems as though everyone around disappears when you two are together.
Anthony doesn't contribute to making your situation any easier. His friendship is one of the greatest gifts you've ever received, but it has caused you a great deal of pain and confusion. Even when he's nothing but your friend– even when he has confided in you many times that marriage is the last thing on his mind, you can't help but notice certain things. Certain gestures, certain stares...he has surely given you reasons to believe your feelings might be reciprocated.
One of the many things he does that inevitably lifts your hopes up is the fact that he absolutely despises every possible suitor you've ever had. Whether he claims to know them and they're the worst person imaginable, or he starts speculating based on his own prejudices, it seems as though no man is worthy of you in Anthony's eyes. You've always wondered why he's so adamant about that claim.
"There you are!" Daphne excitedly greeted you one evening at yet another social gathering. "I was afraid I'd miss the chance to spend even a moment with you tonight, considering how busy you seem to be with all your suitors," she smiles, quickly glancing across the room.
"Well, I could say the same thing. I've seen you dance for most of the night," you remark. "I bet your brother is furious."
"Oh, believe me, he is! But I'm not the only one he's concerned about," her smile only grows after her insinuation. It's no secret that Daphne has always hoped for you to officially join their family, as she's convinced her brother is ridiculously in love with you. "I was only able to escape from him because he couldn't stop telling Benedict just how awful the men you were dancing or talking to are."
"He does have that habit, yes. Poor Benedict," you joke, turning around to spot the two brothers still talking.
Before Daphne could say a thing, a man approached the two of you. As you laid eyes on him, you recognized him as the first gentleman you had a dance with tonight. Both of you smiled at him as he extended his hand your way. "May I have another dance with you, my lady?"
You look at Daphne, who quickly takes a step back to let you know you can go. He gently grabs your hand once you've accepted his invitation, guiding you to the dance floor.
Mr. Demrick is a fine gentleman. He's been nothing but kind, charming and attentive, not to mention he's ridiculously handsome. This isn't the first evening you two have crossed paths, having the honor of dancing a few times before. He seems to have a strong interest in you. Your Mama has expressed many times that it's a matter of time before he's asking for your hand.
You do, however, notice a big flaw in this seemingly perfect man. He's no Anthony Bridgerton.
And speaking of, as you're dancing with Mr. Demrick's hand on your back and the other gently holding one of your own, you can't help but notice Anthony exactly where he once was. He's already looking your way and even from a distance you notice he's as stiff as ever, arms crossed, muttering things to Benedict.
It leaves you to wonder once again if he's being protective over his friend or if there's a deeper meaning to his apparent disgust for all the men that have ever shown interest in you.
After that night, Mr. Demrick's interest in you was more evident than ever. All Daphne could talk about with Lady Bridgerton and your Mama during supper the next day was the different bouquet of flowers he sent you and how breathtakingly beautiful they were.
"Needless to say, I'm very happy for you," Daphne seems to be finished with her talk about the flowers, turning to look at you from across the table. "You two make a very lovely match."
"No doubt you'll be very happy with such a nice and handsome gentleman for a husband," Lady Bridgerton agrees.
Everyone quickly turns to look at Anthony when he lets out a quick chuckle, looking down at his food and pretending he was barely listening.
"Something wrong, Anthony?" Lady Bridgerton asks shortly after with a rather serious tone.
He finally looks up, smiling at his mother. "Not at all. Please, continue with your...delightful chat."
You glared at him and despite you trying to ignore it, something deep within you made it impossible not to say something else regarding Mr. Demrick just to upset Anthony further. "He has invited my family to a picnic to meet his own," you say, noticing the way your best friend immediately turns to look at you with a horrified expression.
"We're really looking forward to that," your mother chimes in, trying to keep the conversation going after Anthony's interruption.
"Cheers to that!" Eloise exclaimed ironically, and you noticed she was looking directly at her eldest brother. "A man brave enough to pursue the heart of a lady is always a reason to celebrate, right?"
Now it was Colin and Benedict the ones who couldn't hold back their laughter after noticing their brother's reaction to that comment.
"What's so funny?" Hyacinth asks, looking impossibly confused.
Eloise's comment evidently made everything a lot worse. Little Gregory joins his sister in their inquiry to know what was going on, until Lady Bridgerton ordered them to stay quiet.
You didn't like El's insinuation one bit, as it does nothing to help with your delusions, but at least you were appreciative of the fact that she was willing to be with you on this one despite her disgust towards the whole idea of marriage and the position a woman is put in because of it. Perhaps she's willing to overlook that detail for the sake of upsetting one of her siblings.
As soon as dinner was over, Anthony offered to accompany you and your mother outside to your carriage. You didn't protest, and quickly calmed Daphne and Lady Bridgertons worries after they started apologizing fervently for his behavior during the evening.
Anthony immediately knew you were upset. It was evident in the way you walked in complete silence without acknowledging he was there next to you.
"Can I have a word with you before you leave?" Anthony asks as soon as the three of you are outside the Bridgerton home.
"Is it okay? If you're too tired we can leave right away."
"It's perfectly fine, dear. I'll wait in the carriage," your Mama replies. "Thank you, Lord Bridgerton, but there's no need," she quickly added when Anthony offered his arm to help her walk down the steps of the entrance. "Please reiterate my gratitude to my dear Violet for having us today."
"Of course," he nodded, returning your Mama's smile. Even when he behaves rather poorly, your mother absolutely adores him. It warms your heart to see how good they get along.
Your Mama walks to the carriage, leaving you and Anthony alone. "I apologize for my behavior tonight."
"I don't think your apologies are sincere."
"I don't know what else do you expect, if I'm being honest," he replies, and immediately knows he has to say something because of your reaction to that comment. "That man is not a good match for you. He's not on your level, and I'm quite certain that he won't be able to make you happy."
"How could you possibly know that?"
"Because I know you. And I know when someone is not right for you."
You scoffed. "No one ever seems to be good enough for me."
Anthony nodded. "Yes, exactly."
"Can't you just be happy for me? Or at least pretend that you are?" you ask, exasperated. It's one thing that he doesn't reciprocate your feelings, but to stand here and claim to be your best friend when he acts like this is something entirely different. Something you can't and won't stand for. "I don't understand why you have to try to ruin every chance I get to find someone."
"Because," he says sternly, as if it was obvious. But is it really that obvious? Is it obvious to you, or even to him?
A dim light of hope shines through in the depths of your heart, knowing very well how dangerous that has been in the past. "Because what?"
He stood there in front of you, looking rather troubled. You notice the way he hesitates and for a moment you almost could've sworn he wanted to take a step closer to you.
But that never happened, and instead all you got was a "because you're my best friend, and I care about you," from him. The same thing you've heard over and over. That godforsaken phrase that has shattered your heart into million pieces over the years.
You try to hide your disappointment, looking up at him with a stern glance. "If I'm truly your best friend, you'd support my decisions instead of brutally questioning them like you always do."
With that said, you didn't wait for any sort of answer as you quickly walked towards your carriage, barely acknowledging your driver and your mother as you headed back home.
Anthony watches as you walk away, once again feeling like a complete fool for not saying something else. For not daring to take that extra step and reveal the real reason why he won't accept anyone else as your husband. It's quite simple, really. The real reason is that he wants to be the one you marry.
But he didn't say anything yet again, and all that's left for him to do is go back inside his house to listen to Eloise and Daphne calling him a fool while the rest agree with them. He doesn't say much about their claims, as they couldn't possibly be more true.
This is exactly what he deserves for acting so cowardly. He gets shamed by his siblings for not doing something about his feelings while you go home, probably thinking about that absurd picnic with Mr. Demrick until you go to sleep.
Next day, you try to forget all about Anthony Bridgerton and focus on your date with Mr. Demrick. Your families were sitting around all together while he asked if you would like to take a walk with him.
He's lovely. Offering his arm for you, complimenting you every chance he gets, making you laugh with his endless anecdotes and quick remarks. He's everything you should need, yet your mind wanders back to your best friend. You can't help it. All you want is for him to be the one kissing your hand and telling you you're the most captivating sight of all.
Your Mama could barely hold her excitement when she read what Lady Whistledown had to say about you and Mr. Demrick after the families were seen spending time together. "The union of the season", she called it. And it shouldn't come as a surprise, as both of you come from wealthy and respected families. It's evident everyone takes a great interest in the possible union.
Still, you were very much intimidated by it, as all eyes will be on you until there's news about an engagement.
And just as you predicted, every lady turned to look at you as you went to visit the modist for a new dress for the next ball. You must look absolutely perfect to earn the approval of everyone and capture Mr. Demrick's heart for good.
At that point, the realization finally started to settle. You're soon becoming a wife, moving to your own home and starting a family. And all of that with a man that you respect and care for, but are incapable of loving.
But perhaps this arrangement will make your feelings for Anthony become nothing but a memory. A memory you won't even care to think about when you have such a wonderful husband by your side.
Days passed and Mr. Demrick continued to send all sorts of gifts to your house. You made the choice of inviting him over so the two of you could spend more time together before the next ball. He was sitting on a couch with your mother while you played the piano for them.
"That was certainly a very beautiful performance," he says once you're done playing. "And you said you composed that yourself?"
"Indeed. I like spending my days playing the piano," you smile brightly.
The entire reunion was quickly ruined when someone burst inside the room. You turn around in your seat to find Anthony standing there, barging in completely unannounced and unexpectedly. It was unclear to you why you felt the need to stand up from your seat to greet him but you did, feeling your heart rapidly beating in your chest at the sight of him.
Oh, how badly you've missed him.
"What are you doing here, Anthony?" you ask, immediately remembering your soon-to-be fiancée and your mother are also in the room. "I'm afraid I'm with a guest right now. Whatever it is, it'll have to wait, my lord."
You never call him that, ever. It was evident by his reaction that he absolutely hated the fact that you refer to him as such.
"My apologies. I didn't mean to disrupt, but I believe it's an urgent matter."
"My lord, I–"
"I must insist," he quickly cuts you off, looking rather desperate.
You try to come up with something to say, knowing you should stand your ground and make him leave, but you were so happy to be in his presence again that the feelings completely clouded your judgment.
"No worries, my lady," you hear Mr. Demrick say, standing up from his seat and sending you a reassuring smile. "I'm sure whatever Lord Bridgerton is here for requires your immediate attention, given his insistence," he added shortly after, giving Anthony a not so friendly look. "I'm sure we can visit the gardens while we wait?"
Your mother nodded after his question. "Of course. That should be more than enough time for Lord Bridgerton to communicate his urgent matter."
Neither Mr. Demrick nor your mother were pleased by Anthony's presence, but you couldn't thank them enough from sparing you this one time. You know this man like no one else does, and you're certain that he wouldn't take a no for an answer and that would've made the situation a lot worse.
"Perfect," Mr. Demrick says before gesturing for your mother to lead the way. Before he leaves the room, he gives Anthony one last look before turning his attention back to you. "Perhaps we should discuss where you'd like your new piano to be in our future home once I'm back. I'd love for my wife to continue doing what she enjoys, especially when she's so extraordinary at it."
You smile after his comment, trying your best not to look at Anthony until Mr. Demrick is officially gone because you can imagine his features are clearly expressing his thoughts regarding that last comment. Once both of them are out of sight, you finally look at him.
"What is wrong with you?" you snapped almost immediately. "I'm glad Mr. Demrick is a patient and understanding man! He could've easily decided to leave the very instant you walked through that door demanding to have a word with me."
"I think he's captivated enough, my dear. I doubt you'll ever get rid of him," he replies, evidently disgusted by the thought of him.
"I don't intend to get rid of him. And do not call me that again."
"Why not? I've always called you that."
"That was before I met Mr. Demrick. Now, it is completely inappropriate."
"Oh, please. It's not like you're already his wife."
"But I will be soon," you point out. He's quiet after that, which gives you room to continue talking. "You must understand that a married woman cannot have other men calling her such things."
"So am I supposed to start addressing you like you're nothing but a stranger? Or perhaps you'd like me to already start calling you Mrs. Demrick? Is that how things will go? You marry this insufferable man and I have to just accept the fact that I no longer have my best friend?"
"I don't know what else you want me to say," you mutter, feeling like you could cry any minute now. "This was going to happen sooner or later."
"It was never supposed to be this way," he sighs, and your soul aches for him when you notice the way he's looking at you. Defeated, exhausted, disappointed, frustrated. You've never seen this particular mixture of emotions reflected in his eyes before.
"And how exactly it was supposed to be?"
Anthony was quiet, too quiet for your liking. You see his hesitation once again and you brace yourself to hear yet another confirmation of the fact that you're nothing but a friend. It doesn't matter that he glances at you from across the room like he can't help himself. It doesn't matter that all the Bridgerton siblings have made insinuations about you and Anthony's relationship. It's all in your head, because you're nothing but a friend.
In a surprising turn of events, you watch as he takes a few steps closer to you. He's cautious of every move, not wanting to scare you– or himself. The beat of your heart speeds up and your hands shake slightly when he's finally in front of you.
You look up at him like a deer coming face to face with a hunter, but in this case you're unable to run away for your life. He's dangerously close to you, gently moving his hand up to touch your face.
The second his fingers brush against your cheek, a shiver travels down your spine and you can't help but close your eyes because his touch is absolutely heavenly. Your breath hitches in the back of your throat when his digits trace down your neck until his hand settles there, holding you with his fingers behind your ear and his thumb still caressing the skin of your face.
"It should go like this," he whispers, and you finally open your eyes to see him looking at you with such adoration, you were certain your legs could betray you any second now and completely give in, causing you to fall straight to the ground.
He leans slightly closer after seconds of just contemplating you, and even though you closed your eyes again, feeling his nose brushing against yours, you're able to snap out of your trance before he could actually kiss you.
"It's not right..." you're able to say, pulling back from him but not nearly enough. He's still very much holding you.
"It is, my dear. I can tell you wish for this as badly as I do."
"Please, Anthony..." you try, but your body betrays you when your hand is resting on his bicep.
"I've always adored the way my name sounds when it's you the one calling me," he confesses, and your stomach fills with butterflies.
You realize he's leaning closer again, but before he can do so you manage to gather all traces of self-control that were almost stripped from you to move back, setting free of his touch.
Anthony stands there, absolutely confused and heartbroken, and is right then when you can't keep your tears in any longer.
"I'm afraid it is too late," you mutter. This has got to be the most painful thing you'll ever have to do. "I'm getting engaged soon."
"But you're not anyone's yet. There's still time if you haven't accepted any proposals."
"Please, don't make this any harder than it should be," you sob, wiping your tears away.
"Darling–"
"Believe me, no one would want this more than me," you interrupted. "You have no idea how many times I've found myself fantasizing about this very moment. For you to say all of this, to be yours forever..." Tears continue to roll down your cheeks and the sight is too much for Anthony to endure, as his own eyes are starting to fill with tears as well. "But it is not possible anymore. I'm sorry, I really am. I won't ask you to understand or accept my decision, but I'd appreciate that you can at least respect it."
"I won't. I refuse to let you marry someone else when we both know we belong together."
"Anthony, Mr. Demrick–"
"You still can't even call your future husband by his own name?"
You sigh, frustrated. "Charlie will become my husband. I don't doubt that he'll be an excellent companion, and that you'll find someone else in time. Soon enough, we'll be nothing but a memory."
"Is that really what you want?" he asks, and your heart sinks when you notice his voice breaking slightly.
You take a few seconds to answer. Of course that's not what you want. You want Anthony to be your husband. You'll always want him and him only. But it's already too late for any of that.
Feeling more heartbroken than ever before, you have to look back at Anthony and fight the urge to run to his arms. "Yes. And I also want you to leave."
Anthony was barely keeping it together, not wanting to cry in front of you. He's once again taking a few steps closer to you, but stops at a reasonable distance to grab your hand to kiss it. "Very well, my lady," he says with a quick bow of his head. "I apologize for wasting so much of your time. Let me assure you, I'll never bother you again."
He let your hand go and immediately turned to the door to leave. As soon as you no longer hear his footsteps, you fall to your knees and allow yourself to cry, feeling like the sorrows from this conversation will haunt you for the rest of your days.
Knowing Mr. Demrick and your mother could be here any minute, you decided to stand up from the ground as soon as you could to lock yourself in your room, where you could be away from everyone for a while until you feel ready to go downstairs and pretend you're content with this life that you've chosen for yourself today.
You really know you shouldn't, as you've played a part just as big as his in the downfall of everything you could've had together, but you can't help it as you curse Anthony for taking so long. You curse him for deciding to do something about his affection for you when it's far too late. And most importantly, you curse him because despite knowing it's over, you are certain that there's nothing you can do to ever get over your feelings for him.
As soon as you realize you're being unfair by putting all the blame on him, you also curse yourself for being as blind and coward as he was. And you curse life itself while you're at it, because you feel like making everyone and everything responsible for not being able to live the life that you wanted.
It's been a few days after the last time you and Anthony spoke. Just days, but it has felt like years and years without him. He hasn't reached out to you, and you couldn't deny that not having him around was absolute torture. There was no greater pain than this.
But you were hopeful that you could see him again at tonight's ball. It was all you could think about as you were getting ready.
"You look lovely, sister," the youngest of your family says, watching as one of the maids is finishing with your hair. "I can't wait to join all of you next season!"
"Thank you, my dearest," you smile at her. "I cannot wait for that either. Perhaps I can help you choose your dress and do your hair for your first ball."
"Yes, please!"
Your youngest sister stayed in your room with you until it was time for everyone to leave. Your father waited by the door while your mother put all of your siblings in line to check their appearance and make sure everyone was looking flawless.
Like the Bridgertons, your family was also quite large. Your older sister is already married so she no longer lives with you, but your parents still have a handful of children to take care of. Your two older brothers haven't married yet and neither have you. There's also your little sister, who's debuting next season, and your baby brother who's barely ten years old.
To this day, you have no idea how they were able to handle the chaos that six children can bring. For that, you admire them deeply.
Once your mother made sure everything was in order, you and your brothers followed her and your father to the carriage. They start a conversation, but you're barely paying any attention, as Anthony is keeping your head occupied again.
Eventually, you reach the residence where the ball's taking place and the five of you make your way inside. As all of you are standing outside the doors of the hall where the event is taking place, you feel a hand reaching out to grab yours. You turn around to look at your mother staring at you with a sympathetic smile.
"I'm so sorry, Mama," you say out of nowhere, though it's practically the only thing you've been able to say to her lately.
"You made the right choice, dear," she reassures you. "Are you ready?"
You nod, inhaling deeply before your mother lets go of you, standing with your father as they wait for you to take the first step. As soon as all of you are entering the room, you notice everyone staring your way, their eyes still filled with expectancy and excitement.
They still believe you're going to marry Mr. Demrick.
You quickly scan the room as you walk down the stairs, the familiar feeling in your stomach appearing when you spot Anthony along with his siblings, his eyes never once leaving you. Despite everything that has happened, he still looks at you like you're the only person in that room.
Your parents go off one way to mingle with other parents attending the event while your siblings scatter around the ballroom to greet their friends and find possible matches.
Having a chance to talk to Anthony was the only reason you decided to attend. Still, you didn't know how and when it'd be okay for you to approach him. Things didn't end on the best of terms, so it's normal for you to have your doubts.
Instead of immediately approaching him, you walk around the room, never losing sight of him. You couldn't help but smile to yourself the first time you catch him looking around the room, unsuccessful to locate you.
"I was hoping to see you tonight," you hear Daphne's voice next to you, sending you back to reality. "You look as beautiful as ever."
"Thank you, so do you."
Your friend smiles at you, briefly looking to where you previously were. "Are you looking for someone?"
"No, not at all," you immediately shake your head, imitating her smile.
"I apologize for what I'm about to say. I don't believe it is the time nor place, but I cannot hold myself back," she says with obvious concern as her smile is replaced with a frown. "My brother told me everything that happened the other day. I don't think I'll ever be able to express how sorry I am."
"Oh, Daphne, that's really not necessary..."
"But I think it is. As ashamed as this makes me, I'm afraid I was the one responsible for his actions."
"What do you mean?"
"I couldn't help but notice the way you two look at each other, or the way you smile when you're together. Believe me, I've never seen my dear brother so infatuated with anyone else before. To see you slip away from him and him doing nothing about it was not only painful, but it angered me enough to intervene," she explains. "After much convincing to do, I finally made him realize he needed to do something about his feelings. Evidently, I stood out of line and got myself involved in something I never should have, and for that I'm terribly sorry."
"You didn't do anything wrong. I know you had good intentions. There's absolutely nothing to forgive."
Daphne reaches out for your hands, relief evident in her features. "I was afraid you wouldn't want to talk to me again. You had all the right to do so, but I'm happy to see I was mistaken."
"I would never do such a thing."
She nodded, glad to know you two are still friends. "Well, with that situation out of the way, allow me to say I'm still very happy about you and Mr. Demrick. My love for my brother won't change the fact that I support your decision entirely."
You debated whether or not to say something, but the hesitation quickly slipped your mind when you looked at Daphne. She's been a great friend, you know there's nothing wrong with confessing this news to her.
She looks a bit confused when you grab her arm to guide her to a corner of the room, as far away from other people as possible. "I appreciate your words, but I'm afraid Mr. Demrick and I are no longer courting."
"Really? Did my imprudence make him change his mind?" she asks, worried she was to blame for this.
"Not at all. He actually proposed to me that very same evening."
"And...you said no?"
"I couldn't marry him, Daphne," you sighed. You'll never forgive yourself from breaking a good man's heart in the way you did with him, but deep down you knew it was the right thing to do. "I couldn't doom him to spend the rest of his life with a woman that doesn't love him the way he deserves."
"I don't judge you for it. My Mama has always taught us that marriage should be formed out of love. It's the only way a union like this can work," you friend offers, immediately wanting to show her support.
"If anything, my dear friend, I should be thanking you for your intervention," you quickly add. "If you never had that chat with your brother, I would've been engaged to a different man by now."
"I...Oh my, are you–?"
"I was as much of a fool as him. I could've said something a long time ago and yet I remained silent. And when he went to my house to give us a chance, I was once again deciding not to do a thing about my feelings. It was only when he left that I realized I made a terrible mistake."
Daphne is once again reaching for your hands, looking more excited than ever after your words. "You have no idea how pleased I am to hear you say all of this."
"You don't think it's too late, do you? I came here to talk to him, after all."
"No, no, not at all! He was devastated when he came back, I've never seen him like that in my life. We got to talk a little– and it's probably best if he's the one who confesses his true feelings in detail to you personally, but there's no doubt in my mind that from everything he said to me, he's deeply, madly and truly in love with you."
"I assure you I love him just as much."
"I don't doubt it either. And I think I speak for all my family when I say there's no one else we would like to be Anthony's wife but you."
"That makes me so happy to hear," you say with obvious excitement. Even Daphne looked like she could start crying any second. "Should I go talk to him now?"
"Please, I'm sure you can't wait any longer! He's over there, with Benedict and Colin."
"I shall tell you how it goes then."
"It'll go wonderful," she assures you, giving you one last smile before she allows you to leave.
Every second of that walk towards Anthony felt like centuries. Your mind spins with all the possible scenarios and everything you're going to say to him, but by the time you're in front of the three siblings your mind is completely blank.
"Gentlemen," was all you could say. The three of them immediately greet you with a quick bow. You notice Benedict and Colin exchanging looks, while Anthony's eyes are fixated on you. "I'd like to have a word with you– alone, if that's okay."
"Of course, my lady," was all he said.
"Oh my, you could cut the tension with a knife," Colin says suddenly. Anthony is so focused on you he barely acknowledges his comment.
"Shush, brother!" Benedict quickly warns, lightly pushing his little brother so he would start walking. "Excuse us," he smiled your way, starting to follow Colin.
You and Anthony are finally alone, but the people around you are still bothering you. "Is it okay if we go outside for a walk?"
"If it's okay with you," he says, a bit confused at first since you two had apparently agreed that you must keep your distance.
Anthony follows you to the gardens in complete silence. The music and chatter could still be heard. You were glad to realize it was only the two of you outside.
"What is it that you wanted to say to me?" he immediately asks, starting to walk next to you.
"I wanted to apologize for everything that happened."
"No need. Like you said, you made your choice and I'll have to respect it."
"It was the wrong choice. I see that now."
He was a bit surprised to hear that, but agreed with you nonetheless. "I'm afraid I can't say otherwise. At least I hope you find comfort in the fact that Mr. Demrick will be a fine husband, as you so fervently claim."
The two of you have reached a part of the garden that surrounds the two of you with large hedges decorated with beautiful flowers. It was then that you stopped walking and turned to look at him, knowing no one would be able to see or interrupt you here.
"I wanted to let you know that Mr. Demrick proposed and I said no," you blurted out simply, not wanting to keep it from him any longer.
"Why?" was all he could say.
"Because," you say, and this time it was painfully obvious.
Anthony couldn't believe your revelation at first, which would explain why he didn't move from his spot at first. As the realization of it all starts to sink in, he immediately walks closer to you and grabs your face with his hands. This time, you let him touch you as your hands move up to place them above his own.
"You're not marrying him?" he asks, barely above a whisper, still not entirely believing it. He really thought he had lost you forever.
You shake your head, unable to hold back your smile any longer. "There's only one man I'd like to marry."
Anthony smiles wider than ever after your comment and he's not able to control himself any longer, immediately closing the space between the two of you as he kisses you.
His kiss is everything you expected and more. So gentle, yet so passionate. It makes you feel like you're the most delicate thing in the entire world, but he must take a taste, so he does eagerly, yet carefully.
The moment doesn't last as much as you expected as he's abruptly pulling away. "Forgive me, I shouldn't have done that."
He takes a step back but he's gladly surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck to stop him. "Don't," you immediately say, "I want you close."
"I really shouldn't, my dear," he insisted, but you can tell it takes everything in him not to kiss you again at that very same moment.
"Is that so?" you tease him, inching just enough. "So you won't continue to kiss me? Not even if I'm so clearly desperate for you to do so?"
He's really trying to remind himself to be a gentleman. "I don't...it's not appropriate."
"Alright, them. It's perfectly fine, Mr. Bridgerton," you promptly agree, moving back from him entirely as you start walking away from him. "Perhaps we should go back then, before anyone notices our absence."
You're barely able to turn around to face him before he's one again in front of you, grabbing the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss.
This time, the kiss is anything but gentle. His tongue explores your mouth with a hunger completely unknown to you as his hands explore your body. The hand previously holding the back of your neck trails your collarbone before it explores further down, cupping one of your breasts while the other holds you close to his body, resting dangerously close to your ass.
His lips move down to your jaw until they settle on the skin of your neck. You close your eyes as you enjoy the way he explores you, a few moans escaping past your lips that only seem to encourage him further.
"Anthony," you whisper into the darkness of the night, holding onto his shoulders for dear life while he kisses all over your neck.
"You're such a delight, my love," he mutters against your skin. "You drive me absolutely mad."
He moves back to your lips now, your mind clouded with desire for him and making it impossible for you to think of anything else other than how badly you need him to continue to touch you and kiss you. You could never get tired of this.
But much to your disappointment, he's pulling away from you again shortly after. His forehead rests against yours as both of you are gasping for air. You open your eyes when he's no longer leaning against you, just to catch him looking down at you with a smile.
"You're so beautiful," he comments, one of his fingers tracing your lower lip. "I could kiss these lips all day if I could."
"And I'd have no complaints about that."
He chuckles after your comment before taking a second to contemplate your beauty under the moonlight. "I deeply regret wasting so much time we could've spent as husband and wife."
"We have many years to make amends for that."
"Is that so?" he asks with a smile, his arms wrapped around your waist to keep you close.
"Well, that is if you ask for my hand."
"We'll go back to the ball and I'll talk to your father right away."
You fake to be offended by his comment. "Without asking for my opinion on the matter, Lord Bridgerton?"
"Forgive me, how rude of me," he follows along with your theatrics, but you immediately notice the shift in his eyes before he continues. They look softer than ever and shine as bright as all the stars in the sky combined. And you feel warm, at peace, so loved by the man standing before you. "My dearest, from the moment I met you, I knew we were destined to be together. You not only captivated me with your beauty, but with everything that you are. And as I started to know you, you kept proving me right. I saw it in the way you'd stay practicing your music for hours with such intent and passion. I saw it in the way you care so deeply about the ones fortunate enough to have you in their lives. I saw it in the way my mother instantly adored you, and how Hyacinth wouldn't stop asking me to invite you over so she could play with you. There's no doubt in my mind that you are the one for me."
You were completely speechless, absolutely mesmerized by his words. He takes a moment to gently wipe a few tears falling down your cheeks. He has always said to you how he's terrible at things like this, yet here he is proving himself wrong.
"If all previous words hold any room for confusion, allow me to clear it all right away. I've been yours from the moment we met and I couldn't possibly be more in love with you. And there's nothing that would make me happier than spending the rest of my life with you," he continues, finally taking a step back to grab both of your hands as he kneels in front of you. "Would you make me the honor of accepting me as your husband?"
You couldn't stop smiling at that point, immediately nodding after his question. "Yes. Now and forever, it'll always be yes."
Anthony kisses both of your hands before standing up to pull you in for a hug. "It pleases me to hear you accept. For a moment, I feared the tears were a bad sign."
You laugh at his little joke before breaking the hug. "Perhaps we should get back. I'm afraid we've been gone for quite a while now."
"That shouldn't be much of a problem now that we're engaged. I shall ask to have a word with your father as soon as we get back– and ask my mother for her ring."
"Is it okay if I inform Daphne?"
"I have absolutely no objections if you decide to announce the news to every person inside that ballroom, my love. Let everyone know you'll be the next Viscountess. Nothing would make me happier."
He offers his arm and you immediately accept it, starting to walk back to the ball with him– your future husband. At that very moment, you've sworn you've never been happier.
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bountycancelled · 4 months
Text
something more than friends
(lucy gray baird x reader)
tip me on kofi if you feel so inclined
requested: yep, I hope you like it anon♡
content: a little bit of angst but mainly fluff, men (derogatory), kinda lovesick!lucy gray, jealous lucy gray (we love to see it), pretty intense description of kissing but no smut.
warnings: a very brief mention of drinking, internalised homophobia but it doesn't last long, gay stuff (duh), lowercase intended I know boo I'm annoying.
a/n: I haven't read the book yet so idk much about the covey so their appearance may ooc but that's solely due to my lack of knowledge on them
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lucy gray baird never faltered when she sang.
there were very few things that could get under her skin when she was on that stage, strumming her guitar and twirling in her skirt as the district folk stomped along to the beat.
sure, sometimes drunkards and the occasional hung up ex would try to cause a scene, attempting to gain her attention from below, but she would simply roll her eyes, waiting for someone to take care of them so that she could go back to doing what she did best. performing.
so what exactly had happened to make the lucy gray baird, forget a line in a song?
she was quick to remedy her mistake, carrying the tune in such a way that most patrons didn't even notice her mess up. but ironically enough, the very cause of her brain fog noticed. you.
you gave her a worried look, but she brushed it off, willing herself to continue playing as if nothing was wrong. and technically, nothing was wrong. you were there, in the far back of the crowd, wearing a white dress with a drink in your hand. and Lucy Gray didn't mean to be cliché, but you really did look like an angel, something divine that she had the honour of setting her eyes on.
but obviously, she wasn't the only one who thought that.
you were speaking to some man. which was fine, you were always the most gorgeous girl in the room in her eyes and she knew that she wasn't the only one who appreciated your beauty, you were always needing to awkwardly laugh at men's advances and brush them off as best as you could, but you weren't doing that tonight.
you were laughing, a genuine laugh, leaning in to hear his voice over the music, over her singing. she wanted to jump off of the stage and break her guitar over that assholes face, and she couldn't explain why.
she had always known that one day, you'd settle down with a kind man who cared for you (not nearly as much as she did, but that was okay) and then she would see you less and less. but knowing didn't make the taste in her mouth any more bitter.
the first time you told her about a crush that you had, on a boy named Tom, she spent the whole night convincing you that he just wasn't right for you. you believed her of course, rejecting him swiftly the next week when he asked you to go on a walk with him, walking instead with lucy gray, hand in hand.
but then, she did it every time you spoke about a boy, and you started to believe her less and less. 'I think you're just jealous lucy gray, and you don't anybody taking my attention away from you.'
you were right, she was jealous, and the thought of you, with a man, it disgusted her to her core. which is why she took off as soon as her set ended, not even staying for the applause as she searched for you outside.
there you were, and thankfully, you were alone, no undeserving man in sight.
she ran up to you, her brown eyes seemingly sparkling even in the darkened night. "how'd you enjoy the show, darlin'?"
her heart jumped when you smiled at her, your eyes crinkling in joy as you took both of her hand in yours, squeezing them affectionately. "you have the voice of an angel, lucy gray. and I envy the lucky fella who's gonna marry you, and have to serenade them whenever they want."
lucy gray rolled her eyes in a good natured fashion, trying to ignore the knot in her stomach when you mentioned her getting married. "I already serenade you, sweet thing. and im not gonna let some wedding band stop me."
you laughed airily, leading her by the hand towards the lake, where you spent most nights together. you sat down at the edge, laying your head in her lap when she sat beside you. her hand went to your hair, and she fought the urge to by giddy at the sight of your head in her lap, you were just... perfect.
"who was that guy that you were talking to back then? when I was singing, I mean." she asked, her voice uncharacteristically quiet.
you thought back to about an hour prior, picturing every person that you had been with throughout the evening as you tried to recall who she was asking about in particular. "oh! that was matthew, his dad and my dad go way back, but the two of us never really shared their closeness for whatever reason. but after speaking to him tonight I'm a bit upset that I never tried to grow a friendship with him earlier."
she nodded, her cherry glossed lips pressing into a thin line. "he doesn't just wanna be friends with you though, I could see it." you scoffed playfully, raising a brow at her curiously. "you were all the way up on stage, in the middle of your favourite song to perform, and somehow, you could tell that much from so far away?"
she opened her mouth to defend herself, but after realising just how insane the notion sounded when you phrased it in that way, she quickly closed it again. "I'm not gonna let any man take me away from you, lucy gray, believe me when I say that I can't live without you."
your words sent a fury of butterflies in her stomach, and she swore that felt dizzy as you picked your head up, moving your face so close to hers that your noses were almost touching. she wanted to kiss you. god, what the hell was wrong with her? how could she be thinking of you in this way?
despite her inner conflict, she made no moves to create some distance between your faces, selfishly wanting to stay like this for as long as you'd let her. "I wish we could get married." she sighed, her eyes widening at her own words. "I meant- not like, I didn't mean- not in, like, a husband and wife typa way-"
you cut her off with trying to, with a tilt of your head making her suck in a sharp breath. "you don't wanna do husband and wife things with me?" you asked, and she could swear that your voice had a certain tone about it, one that made her cheeks feel blazing and her breaths shallow.
she shook her head, her usually fierce tone reduced to a meek almost whisper. "we can't do those stuff together."
you were too close for comfort. she could feel the tip of your nose against hers and if you leaned in any further, she was sure that she would combust. "who cares if we can't? the more important question is, do you want to?"
inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. she had forgotten how to breath. this wasn't right, she knew that, so why were her lips on yours in a flash, her hands in your hair, around your waist, holding your hands, touching any part of you that she could reach as the two of you kissed? in public, no less?
she couldn't find it in her mind to stop, not when your soft, sweet lips moved in tandem with hers as if you were molded to fit each other. when you pulled away, with lucy gray chasing your lips with an involuntary whine, you held her by the shoulders, a look of concern on your face.
that was when she felt it. the guilt knawing at her stomach, and the tears thar flowed down her face. was she crying because of how overwhelming her feelings were for you? maybe it was because she knew that you would have to hide... whatever had just happened between the two of you.
you leaned your forehead against hers, you sweet voice easing her fear. "I love you." she nodded, not being able to say it back just yet, but she could only hope that you knew. she moved to kiss you again, being startled out of her mind by a girlish scream in the distance.
it was maude ivory, eyes wide and hand slapped over her mouth in shock, with an equally suprised tam amber standing next to her. lucy gray felt sick to her stomach.
"I knew it." tam Amber said with a shrug, moving to sit next to the two fo you as she stared out at the moonlit lake. "no one looks at their friend like how lucy gray looks at you."
"can I be the flower girl? and the maid of honour? and the priest?" maude ivory rambled, laying half in lucy grays lap and half in yours. you simply laughed, explaining that her dream wasn't exactly possible but flower girl was certainly doable as lucy gray watched, tears threatening to fall from her eyes once again. only this time, they were of relief.
the joy she felt in her chest, at the thought that you could be... together in front of the covey was the best gift she could possibly be given. you and her, together. not just as best friends. although it was hard to wrap her head around it, she knew that it was exactly what she wanted and she had it on good authority that you wanted it too.
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earthtooz · 1 year
Note
rin kiss cam absolutely a masterpiece, i loveeee it so much <3 but i got an opposite idea. since you are very damn talented writing for sae, perhaps where you and sae had an argument which upset you so much, you have been ignoring him. then the following day, sae has a football match. after the match which of course they win, all the cams are on you and he said “please give me another chance to fix this, us” THEN THEN he held a massive bouquet of roses DJOWJDOSHDJSJDJ
for @limitlesshq - changed up the storyline a little, anon, sorry! your ask gave me inspiration for this, i'm sorry if you don't like the alterations, but i hope you enjoy nevertheless! this is VERY unedited.
sae, who has a sharp tongue and an even sharper attitude to match with that blunt personality of his. sae, whose words burn and singe your skin, leaving searing pain behind that you try not to show, especially when the venom drips onto your skin and brands you with shame, humiliation, and wrath. sae, who has never talked to you like he had in the argument you had two nights ago.
since then you hadn't talked to him, cringing at the thought of messaging him and reaching out. your friends tell you that you should try and mend whatever has happened, that knowing the two of you, sae's probably feeling the same and misses you too. your heart agrees but your conscious is still a little scarred, wincing when you recall the words that were thrown around.
sae had sent you a few posts here and there- like he sometimes does on instagram (they're hardly funny and you're still trying to find a way to tell him that), and you would only respond with a double click of the message instead of a proper response. other than that, he hadn't reached out in any other way.
the problem was that tonight you had a match to attend, with tickets that sae personally booked for you so it'd be a little harsh to not go.
just because you were still... upset at him doesn't mean that you didn't love him.
but did he want you there? what if he doesn't want to see you? what if he's still mad? that's probably why he hasn't made any attempts to try and talk it out and lord knows that you're still too busy fighting your own thoughts to make the first move.
pathetic really, it is, but when itoshi sae is your partner and the person who you have to apologise to... it's a little hard...
nevertheless, you go. your eyes lingered on the jersey he had given you, debating on whether or not you should wear it.
you decide against it, walking out of your apartment with a sinking feeling that it was a decision you'd regret. at least you still looked cute.
arriving at the stadium, you occupy your seat quite quickly especially since you were watching solo today. it's always daunting to be alone, especially in an environment like this, but you don't want any of your friends to witness how rocky you and sae are right now, so just purchasing this one ticket was a good idea.
even if that meant you had to cure your own boredom by scrolling on your phone whilst waiting for the match to start.
despite your indifferent front, your stomac was doing somersaults from where you jittered with anxiety. was showing up the right move? what if he didn't want you here?
then the stadium announcers begin talking, shushing everyone almost immediately as the teams are introduced. each running onto the grassy field when it's their turn, basking the roars and screams of the crowd that came to support them.
when real madrid comes out, your eye immediately lands on the figure of your boyfriend. although you can't see him all that clearly, it's not hard to identify him from his magenta hair and build; one that you see practically all the time (excluding the last three days).
he's scanning through the crowd, whipping his head around as if in search for someone, and when he finds the vip section for real madrid, his eyes land on you. you can't see him clearly, but there's a shift from his figure, his aura darkening as he slows his steps a little, falling behind from his team.
a fellow teammate has to push sae a little to snap him out of whatever funk he was in and a part of you twists uncomfortably at this weird behaviour of his.
all because he saw you. maybe it wasn't the right choice to come tonight. what if you impact his play?
the kickoff begins before you can think too much about it and the match officially starts, the players scrambling around the field.
90 minutes are over before you can count, the victory going to real madrid (to your relief because thank goodness you didn't affect their precious midfielder).
however, where you thought you would head home immediately after the match, it seems like sae has other plans as he runs towards the barriers separating the audience and the field, eyes locked on you the whole time. he beckons for you to come over and with a little hesitation, you do, weaving through exiting crowds in anticipation for what he'd need.
"congrats for the win," you say in greeting, plastering on a smile to give him the false perception that you were okay. he didn't need a victory to be soiled. that'd be a rough way to end such a pleasant event.
he doesn't meet your smile. instead, his eyes seem troubled, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he looks you up and down again and again, as if his eyes are deceiving him.
"you're not wearing my jersey," he says finally, looking back up at you with turmoil clear in his eyes.
"oh," you look down at your own outfit. "yeah. i decided not to."
"why?"
"well after our argument i didn't know where we stand," you confess shyly. he frowns further before stepping back.
then he takes off his jersey- the one he was wearing, and fiddles with it until it's facing a certain way. he had a long sleeve shirt on underneath but without the jersey, you can see that he's wearing the couples necklace you got for your anniversary.
he then threads the jersey on over you and despite being shocked at his abrupt actions, you comply nevertheless, weaving your arms through the holes.
sae hums in approval and you feel a little gross wearing his sweat-sopped shirt, but he looks content and happy. a stark contrast to the troubled expression he was wearing previously.
you open your arms for a hug. he accepts it, winding his arms around your torso as yours go around his neck. the athlete breathes you in, relishing in the feeling of being so close to you after so long.
"are we okay?" he asks, voice muffled as sae hugs you a little tighter.
"yeah," you respond. he takes his head out of your shoulder, indifferent eyes glossy. you think they're tears, but you're not going to give yourself such high credit.
"missed you. i hate it when you're mad at me."
you chuckle, pressing a kiss to his nose, causing him to scrunch his face at the sensation. "i wasn't mad, sae. i thought you would be."
"me? why?"
"i don't know. you're kind of scary, y'know. especially to those who have wronged you or you don't care about."
he softens before bringing his head to your shoulder again, finding solace in your touch. "but you're neither."
"noted," you laugh, running your hands through his hair. everything feels okay again.
you only find out after the match that sae was hoping you'd come all along and that he even brought gifts for you as a way of apologising after the match.
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irisintheafterglow · 6 months
Text
...but I don't like a gold rush
summary: you're dynamight's publicist and, by some joke by fate, you fell in love with him. you're pissed about it.
wc: 1.3k
cw/tags: swearing, mutual pining, both kats and reader are emotionally constipated, happy ending
note: was listening to a taylor swift love songs playlist on spotify and this popped into my head. short and sweet, hope you like it all my bakugirlies <3 will be back to your regularly scheduled programming of jjk angst and jackals crack shortly
likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated!
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"this is a disgusting feeling and i hate it. how do i get rid of it?"
"you're in love, babe. there is no 'getting rid of it' unless you find someone else to hyper-fixate on," your best friend reminds you and you groan out of frustration for the millionth time. "might i suggest deku? or maybe shoto? if you want a smoking hot pro, he's definitely not the only one around." her mouth quirks teasingly and you half-heartedly chuck a pillow in her direction.
"he's the only one i want, though, and that's the fucking problem," you lament, "it's so embarrassing."
"have you considered the possibility that he might be interested in you, too? you're already around him 24/7." you bark out a humorless laugh. what a joke. the words "bakugo katsuki" and "reciprocating feelings" did not belong in the same sentence.
"i'm his publicist. it's my job to be around him 24/7." she shrugs indifferently and gives you a skeptical look that makes your face heat up. "am i out of my mind? falling in love with a coworker?"
"considering that your coworker declined the 'sexiest hero alive' award three times now, it's not that far-fetched," she admits and it makes your stomach feel even more queasy. your unease must have finally gotten through to her as she sits up from her bed and determinedly meets your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. "look. any man worth talking to will pass out when he sees you in that," she states, gesturing at the modest but elegant dress covering your body. "if bakugo doesn't realize how much of a catch you are, then you shouldn't waste another breath in his direction."
the sentiment was easier said than done, unfortunately.
the only thought in your mind was him, from the moment the car picked you up from your friend's apartment to stepping onto the carpet of the awards show. crowds of eager fans cheer when you open the door, shouting your name and recognizing you as the brain behind their favorite hero's appearances. you flip a switch in your head, instantly becoming the professional that reassures the cameras and politely answers interviewers' questions. eventually, in what feels like no time at all, the unmarked limo carrying the man you were stupidly in love with pulls into the roundabout drop-off. you try your hardest to keep your composure as his friends exit the vehicle: mina in her sparkly pink gown, deku in his sleek green suit, kirishima in a sheer top that leaves no chiseled muscle uncovered. your breath catches in your throat when he's the last to appear and the frantic screams of the fans fade to nothing when his eyes search the chaos and zero in on you.
"you're late," you say quietly when he's within earshot and he huffs an incredulous laugh.
"and you're stunning," he replies without missing a beat. you don't miss the way his gaze rakes over your body and you despise the way he instantly can set your face on fire. his casual flirting infuriated you to no end, especially when he spoke in that low tone that should only be reserved for...private activities.
"if you think flattery will save you from a lecture, you're deeply mistaken," you force out and pray that he can't hear the waver in your voice. the butterflies in your gut feel like a flock of unruly pigeons. "but, that'll have to wait for after the show. you've got cameras just up ahead."
"this is fucking exhausting," he grunts and you can't help the chuckle that leaves your lips. bright red eyes flick over to you and you swear you can see a cocky glint in them.
"you just got here."
"and? i'm only here for as long as you want to be here," he says and it makes your legs gelatinous. "say the word and we're leaving. no questions asked."
"you're the one who's getting awards tonight," you point out, trying to ignore the way your body naturally gravitated toward his until you were nearly shoulder-to-shoulder in the crowd. at some point, his arm stations itself to float just above your waist, creating a larger bubble for you to breathe without making contact with your body. "you don't wanna stick around to receive them?"
"nah." he shakes his head and waves his other hand in carefree dismissal. "i know that anything i say will just get me in trouble later." his mouth becomes a smirk and you catch him winking at you before making his way toward the flashing lights and calls of his name. you wait patiently for him to finish posing for the insatiable paparazzi, occasionally walking out to fix his collar or brush a strand of hair from his forehead. the burn of his stare doesn't go unnoticed when you're right in front of him, fixing a button on his shirt.
"stop looking at me like that," you mutter and he flashes a sharp tooth in amusement. he knew what he was doing to you; it was impossible for him not to know from the way your hands shook on his collar.
"i wasn't kidding when i said you looked stunning, sweetheart," he murmurs and you have to blink a few times to fix the short circuit in your brain. "you ever gonna tell me how you feel or am i just gonna keep making advances to a brick wall?"
"you have absolutely no concept of-"
"publicist, get out of the way!" you both stiffen and you futilely shake your head the tiniest bit. he doesn't hesitate, and his hand gently pushes you out of the light so he can properly yell at whoever dares to tell you what to do. unlike most of his outbursts, though, his use of profanity and insults toward one's mother was kept to a minimum; it made the true attacks of undermining the reporter's professionalism even sweeter.
"and just for the record," he concludes, "i do whatever they tell me to do, so don't think you can disrespect them and get away with it, 'cause that's never gonna fucking happen. got it?" the shocked reporters nod meekly and bakugo unceremoniously exits the photo area, returning to your side like nothing happened. "i'm sorry about them."
"you shouldn't have done that."
"you're gonna lecture me for defending you?"
"no, not that. the thing you said before we got interrupted," you say, your voice barely a whisper that only he can hear. "about making advances toward a brick wall."
"you mad that i compared you to a brick wall? because it really does seem like that sometimes-"
"no, you idiot." you finally turn to face him and pull him into a quiet corner. "i'm upset because, if this is a joke, it's not funny." he gapes at you for a few seconds, as if he couldn't comprehend what you just said.
"you think," he says slowly, "that i'm joking about liking you." you nod in assent and he drags his hand down his face. you can already hear the protests of his makeup artist, but you don't really care right now. "alright, fine. maybe i'm the idiot in this situation."
"what do you mean?"
"i like you, stupid, and i'm not kidding." his words sounded like they were foreign on his tongue like it was hard for him to voice his feelings aloud. "you deal with my bullshit and you're so fucking pretty, i wanna pass out. get it?"
"mhmm," you hum dumbly, still processing what he was saying. some part of you still was saying that it was a sick joke, but the way his eyes soften when you finally look up at him confirms all that you need to know. bakugo katsuki was irrevocably, uncontrollably in love with you.
and it surprised him just as much as it did you.
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p0ckykiss · 7 months
Text
five ways to say "i love you" - jeonghan
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summary - how jeonghan shows his love to you, through all five love languages
-> sick y/n, worried jeonghan, fluff, established relationship, soft jeonghan!!!!, whipped jeonghan
seasonal depression is a real thing. at least, according to you it is. personally, jeonghan had never experienced it. its entire premise just didn't really make sense, is all. watching the leaves change colors and fall was beautiful, and when winter rolled around the corner, so did the holidays and days off. if anything, wasn't that a reason to be happier?
a sneeze interrupts his train of thought, and jeonghan feels a pang in his chest at the sight.
it's officially been three days with you being flu-struck, and you both hoped it would've gotten better by now, but if anything it only seemed to have gotten worse. the time reads a quarter past two, and jeonghan can't help but sigh. 
you've been stuck on the couch since noon, curled up in your warmest blanket trying to watch the latest sitcom episode. your drowsiness is palpable, and every time you reach for a tissue to blow your nose, jeonghan flinches.
if seasonal depression corresponded with your well-being, then maybe jeonghan relates to it more than he thinks. and though jeonghan is chock-full of sympathy, his urgency to comfort you proves stronger.
and so jeonghan begins to rack his brain for different methods to make you feel better. and somehow his memories digress to the day you both took the love language test, even before you started dating. much to his embarrassment, jeonghan doesn't actually remember what your love language is, and he's way too prideful to ask. luckily, the nostalgia ends with the spark of a lightbulb, and jeonghan smiles. he knows exactly what to do. 
— 
the quest to rediscover your love language begins with the first type: words of affirmation.
slowly, jeonghan saunters over to you, trailing his fingertips over the leather of the couch, then over the fabric of the blanket, gently and gradually, until they find their way to your shoulder, and jeonghan leans down so you're promptly face to face. the quiet chatter from the TV fills up empty space, but it's not enough to force jeonghan to speak loudly. so he doesn't. instead, he inches ever so closer, until he can make out every beauty mark on your face, and he breathes, hardly above a whisper, "you're so beautiful."
in an attempt to play the compliment off, you merely roll your eyes. you blame your illness, though, when you can't contain the slightest inklings of a smile forming, nor the red flush that threatens to overtake your cheeks. you pair a gentle slap against jeonghan's arm with the statement, "i look like shit," and the accusation, "you're just saying that to make me feel better."
if it was even possible, jeonghan moves in closer, propping one hand on the couch arm for support so he could lift his other hand to rest perfectly under your chin. jeonghan swipes his thumb over your skin, hot to the touch, but he can't tell if it's from a blush or from the fever. "you might be right," jeonghan concedes, humming as he takes in every detail of your current state—rosy nose, puffy eyes, dry skin, messy hair—and yet jeonghan can't seem to find any flaws. inspection complete, jeonghan searches for the one thing he knows he can find. ever so faintly, glimmers dance in your eyes, and when jeonghan catches them with his own, like he's done before a million times, he repeats himself. "you might be right. i could just be saying that to make you feel better." jeonghan tucks one of many stray hairs behind your ear before reaching down to cup your hands together, "but that doesn't make it any less true."
and jeonghan can see it, can physically see it, how all of your insecurities instantly crumble, like a house of cards collapsing upon itself, melting away to make room for new walls, sturdier this time, built from affirmations and confidence and care.
a verbal response isn't required. all you do is smile, subtly, so that your lips barely curve up, and you close your eyes. but even this speaks volumes, because it's your cue of absorbing all the good things around you, no matter how small. it's also jeonghan's cue to add one final speck of positivity to your realm with a sweet kiss to your forehead, before he takes his leave to give you your much-needed space. 
mindless chatter continues to emit from the TV, and when jeonghan peers into the living room, he spots you tucked away in your same spot on the couch, only this time your head rested lower and your mouth hung open, blissfully asleep and temporarily free from the virus that ailed you.
jeonghan is quick to shimmy on his coat. braving the bite of winter air, it was time to do some shopping for part two, giving gifts, in his mission to determine your love language.
months of taking extra shifts, saving up, determined observations, and heavy research all culminated into this one moment. he was battling not one, but two, life-or-death decisions. the first was to pick which gaming console to buy, and the second was to pick which game to correctly pair with said console. his dedication to this plan, despite being executed weeks before the planned date, does not fail him, and fifteen minutes later jeonghan is walking back into your home as if nothing even happened.
luckily, you are still asleep, which gives jeonghan enough time to wrap up (literally) this phase of the journey and get a head start on the next: acts of services.
— 
about a million things fly through jeonghan's head when he watches you ease out of your slumber, the most prominent thought being how adorable you look, but the most important thought being how sick you still must feel, and how it's engraved in jeonghan's soul to fend off your demons.
unable to contain his excitement, jeonghan approaches you with his arms tucked behind his back, very conspicuously hiding something. you don't even get the chance to sit up before jepnghan kneels beside you, looking up with the largest pair of star-filled eyes. 
jeonghan brings both hands forward, so the two presents display themselves proudly between you. "i was going to wait until christmas," he shuffles the gifts into your arms, "but i can't stand seeing you like this." jeonghan balls his fists into his lap to prevent himself from tearing away at the wrappings himself. "i hope you like it."
piece by piece, bits of red and green foil fall to the floor. no amount of congestion or itchiness in your throat could suppress the yelp that burst from your voice. "jeonghan," you begin, but the growing lump of emotion in your chest was making it damn near impossible to finish your sentence. "you really didn't have to."
jeonghan beams. "yes i did. i know how much you miss your old switch."
"you mean the one i threw out the window because i couldn't pass that one stupid level of super mario?" 
it's clear that you are very unfond of the memory, but jeonghan simply finds it all the more endearing. "that's the one."
the grin on jeonghan's face has yet to falter, and suddenly the swells of appreciation that lap at your heart transform into guilt. you imagine all the sacrifices jeonghan must have made in order to afford this, all the late shifts he had to seek out, just to buy you a replacement for something you broke in the first place. you swallow a lump of equal parts of exasperation and admiration down your throat, ready to air out further protest because you really don't deserve this, and you sure as hell don't deserve jeonghan.
and jeonghan can imagine all of your internal turmoil, of course he can, which gives him all the more reason to assure you that you do, in fact, deserve the entire world. it's also happily up to jeonghan to deliver it to you. one warm hand placed on your cold ones and a couple of soothing circles rubbed atop of them later, and jeonghan has effectively drawn you out of your own bubble.
"whatever you're worrying about," jeonghan exhales, "don't." when jeonghan senses the tension releasing from your body, he drives his point across with a home run. "plus," he nods at the game he bought to accompany the console, mario kart 8, "we can play together this time, too."
there's no reason to argue, you conclude, especially not against jeonghan. a deep breath resets your mentality, and you try your best to return to your usual self, biting back a smile. "you know I won't go easy on you, right?"
"oh please," jeonghan ruffles your already messy hair, "in your condition, you'll be begging me to go easy on you."
frowning, you take a moment to envision this unlikely scenario. unwilling to even entertain the possibility of losing to jeonghan, you dodge the challenge altogether. "how about we play another time," you mutter.
and at that, jeonghan jumps to his feet, grabbing the switch and the game in one fell swoop. "i knew you were gonna say that," he giggles, "which is why I prepared something else."
after quickly shooting a prayer to whatever gods were out there, you tentatively say, "please don't tell me you got another ridiculously expensive gift. this is more than enough." you're more than enough, you want to add, but don't.
jeonghan all but skips to the kitchen. "i wouldn't exactly call this a gift." a painfully slow thirty seconds pass until he returns to the couch in the living room, to you, carefully balancing a plate of various desserts in one hand, and cradling what appeared to be a lighter in the other.
you squint, double checking if you were actually seeing what you thought you were seeing. "what exactly would you call it, then?"
figuring that calling it an act of service would be much too blatant, jeonghan settles on "lunch."
"lunch?" you eye the plate, definitively making out two chocolate bars, a sleeve of graham crackers, and a bundle of marshmallows.
once his rendition of a charcuterie board is secure on the coffee table, jeonghan maneuvers his way onto the couch and under the blanket, shoulder to shoulder with you one and only. "you haven't eaten all day. and i know you probably don't want to eat a proper meal," jeonghan gestures at their awaiting food, "but I also know you crave sweets when you're sick."
it should be second nature by now, really, with how many times jeonghan so casually demonstrates just how well he knows you, maybe even more than you knows yourself. but jeonghan leaves you in awe every time, regardless. 
s'mores are your designated comfort food. the entire process is just so enjoyable, from prepping the ingredients and assembling the structure, to trying to eat the whole thing in one bite lest the remnants ooze out the sides. and so you both do just that.
lacking anything close to a fireplace or a firepit, you roast marshmallows skewered with chopsticks above the dim flame from the lighter. as per the laws of physics (or something like that), the first marshmallow never goes well, and you both end up with a big black burnt chunk of goo. you effectively hurl yours in the trash, but jeonghan dares to take a nibble off his own. he learns that curiosity does, in fact, kill the cat, and jeonghan scrambles to wash out that terrible ashy aftertaste on his tongue. then he hears the faint sound of you snorting, and he concludes that it was worth it.
you tackle the issue of melting the chocolate next, but it's jeonghan who requests to handle this part because he doesn't want to risk you getting burnt. 
and so you watch as jeonghan carefully heats the chocolate piece by piece over the fire. and you note all of jeonghan's habits you've picked up on over the years. how jeonghan's tongue peaks out from the corner of his mouth when he's super concentrated, how he furrows his brows when he tries to see better, how he forgets to blink when there's one specific thing on his mind. and you feel yourself likewise melting like the chocolate, because even to this day, you still can't fathom how you were so lucky to have jeonghan to call yours.
"i hope you're hungry," jeonghan announces, grinning ear to ear. 
you reciprocate the expression. it's assembly time. 
you make a mess. it was inevitable, honestly. there was only so much precaution to be taken from your comfy position on the couch, legs and feet all tangled up in each other. and you wouldn't have it any other way.
laughter outshines any noise from the long-forgotten sitcom playing on the TV. each bounce of your shoulder from an accompanying chuckle is followed by the blanket sliding down, just a bit. jeonghan tries to be slick when he drapes his arm around you, a front to make sure he can pull the blanket back up every time it threatens to slip. but this is you. you, who notice everything that jeonghan does for you. you, who's grateful for all of it. you, who don't think you can love jeonghan any more than you already do.
an impromptu nap is essential for their post-s'more recovery. the last two love languages, physical touch and quality time, are much harder to gauge. considering jeonghan's affection is usually on full display 24/7 and the fact that he counts his entire lifespan with you as quality time, he can only hope you treasure your moments together as much as he does. and honestly, at this point, jeonghan is much too tired to care about his quest to uncover your love language. the only mission on his mind is to get you as close as possible, and so he seeks to accomplish just that.
pulling you into his arms, you both slump onto your sides, feet dangling off the edge of the couch, hands wrapped around shoulders and backs, and eyes locked unwavering onto the other's. jeonghan slips his bicep under your neck, fashioning a faux pillow, and rests your head against his chest, just above his beating heart.
you squirm in a weak attempt to create some distance between you. (you're not successful.) "i'm gonna get you sick."
jeonghan only snuggles closer. "i don't care," emphasizing his point with a chaste kiss upon your forehead, and then, oh so gently, on your nose, both cheeks, and finally, still ever so softly, on your lips. 
you've both long since outgrown the butterflies in your stomachs. what used to elicit sparks of electricity at every touch now resound in echoes of warmth. and lying here, in jeonghan's embrace, in jeonghan's comfort, in jeonghan's life, you feel so safe. you'd spend eternity with jeonghan if you could, but right now, when the passage of time has all but stopped as you continue to hold each other in your own beautiful world, what you have right now is all you want.
you both wake up as you were, still entangled in each other's body, each other's affection, each other's hearts.
you let yourself drown in the serenity that was jeonghan before you ask the question that's been tickling the back of your mind the whole day. "what was up with you today? you were oddly kind, even more so than you usually are."
an instant flush of red rises upon jeonghan's cheeks, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think jeonghan was the sick one, not you. "this is gonna sound stupid," jeonghan says.
and to that, your first instinct is to reach for jeonghan's hand and intertwine your fingers, still perfectly warm under the blanket. "nothing you say is ever stupid." it's true. on a scale of endearing to adorable, never once have you thought jeonghan resembled anything close to the word stupid.
jeonghan bites his lip, as he confesses, "i hated seeing how miserable you were, and i wanted to cheer you up, but i forgot what your love language is, so i thought i'd do one of each to see which one you like the most, but you were equally receptive to all of them, and i feel dumb for not knowing what means the most to you."
when you don't immediately respond, jeonghan sighs and chides himself. "i told you, it's stupid."
but you just laugh, sporting a grin so wide your eyes turn into mini crescent moons. "yoon jeonghan, you're ridiculous in the best way possible." you unlace your finger in favor of cupping your palm around jeonghan's cheek, still blazing from embarrassment. "did you know that?"
jeonghan flits his gaze downwards, uncharacteristically shy towards the one person he's bared his entire soul to. "could you still remind me what your love language is?" he sheepishly requests, adding on, "just for future reference."
you just smile, and you hope your words are enough to convey the intensity of the way your whole body swells with an undeniable warmth every time jeonghan does anything. "as long as it's with you," you use your thumb to tilt jeonghan's head back up, ensuring he can see just how sincere you are when you say, "i love it all just the same." and then you lean in, breaths already mingling, lips centimeters from meeting, hearts seconds from colliding, when you whisper, "i love you all just the same."
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ggukiepie · 6 months
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one of your girls (pt. 2) (jungkook x reader)
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we go 'round again, we jump back in bed that's what you do when you love somebody these bad omens, i look right through them that's what you do when you love somebody bad omens by 5sos
pairing: jungkook x fem oc
tags: smut, angst, fluff, fuckboy!jk, fwb rel, oc is...she thinks with her heart <//3, college au, jungkook is sus and a bit mean but is oc any better ? hmmmm
warnings: kissing, fingering, protected sex, mirror kink, backshots wooo but make it romantic, light choking, multiple orgasms, a little bit of aftercare, cuddling :o
word count: 6k
a/n: weeeee part 2 is finally here !! sorry this took so long yall. i have two more parts to release for this series (flashback then part 3). anw happy reading !! uhhhhhh the ending..dont scream at me :D / part 1 / drabble i (flashback)
taglist: @yuwaimo @haileycannotcometothephonern @hoseokteardrop @hoodrejects @agrika @joonwater @moonchild1
..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..
It's sunny today which calls for hanging out at the quad. It's what you and your friends usually do to take advantage of the rare warm days. Jihyo's busy bickering with Mingyu, you don't know what they're really talking about because you're busy re-writing your notes. You haven't seen Jimin yet but he texted the group chat saying he's just buying food. And Jungkook...well you don't know if he's going to show up today. You haven't talked to him since that night. It's just been three days anyway.
You feel someone sit down beside you and you notice it's Jimin. He's wearing those skinny jeans he loves so much because he says it makes his ass look nice. You roll your eyes every time he mentions that.
"Cool guy alert," Mingyu suddenly calls out. You whip your head up to stare at Jimin who's wearing the biggest pair of sunglasses you've ever seen, it's covering half of his face already.
"Too sunny for you, Jiminie?" Jihyo teases this time.
You all watch Jimin silently as he removes the sunglasses. His left eye is bruised and it's ugly and purple and almost black.
"What the fuck," Jihyo says to break the silence. "What happened to you?"
Jimin doesn't say anything yet, just simply fixes his hair and shakes his head. You can tell he's trying not to get angry because his jaw is clenched.
"Jimin?" you whisper.
"It was Jungkook," he says gruffly. Your heart stops again at the mention of his name. Why would Jimin and Jungkook fight? Their friendship is pretty solid and they always get along well. You've never seen them annoyed at each other.
Your eyes flit to Mingyu and you think he knows what happened because he's silent, no hint of surprise on his face. He's looking down at the table while playing with his food.
"You guys never fight," Jihyo interjects. "What happened?"
Jimin turns to face you and you suddenly think you know why. You don't want to say it yourself but you think you've got an inkling why Jungkook punched him. You just hope you're wrong.
"You need to talk to him," Jimin tells you, completely ignoring Jihyo's question. You nod silently and check your phone to see if Jungkook has texted you at all. Of course he hasn't. Typical. But you'll find him today. You don't know exactly what went down but Jimin telling you to find him confirms your suspicions. It's enough to get you mad, your body heating and tensing up in simmering anger. You don't mind what Jungkook does to you, how he hurts your feelings without intending to, how he treats you like you're some disposable object, like you're just there always on the sidelines waiting for him. What you can't tolerate is Jungkook bringing both your friends into your situationship. What goes on between you and Jungkook should stay between you both and that's it. You can't handle him hurting Jimin as well.
There are a few places where you think Jungkook might be. You walk to the cafeteria first and search for him in the crowd. He's not there so you head to the library instead and your heart drops the moment you see him talking to some girl.
"Hey," you practically shout, suprising the people in the library and yourself as well, even. You're usually never this angry. Never address someone in such a venomous way. But you can't help but feel irked at what Jungkook's done.
He looks back and his eyes widen at your angry form. It only lasts for a second before he smirks and walks closer to you.
"Yeah?" he says, all smug and cocky.
"We need to talk."
Then you turn around and start walking out of the library, could hear Jungkook walking behind you already. Girl he was talking to all forgotten.
Surprisingly, you end up at his place.
You walk into his living room, ignoring him when he tells you to take a seat on the couch.
"Did you punch Jimin?" you ask right away, wanting to get this stupid issue over with.
You watch as his jaw clenches, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He looks at you for a moment, eyes in slits at your hostility. "And what if I did?"
"What the fuck was that, Jungkook?" You look at him with stern eyes and could tell he's angry as well, chest rising up and down in quick breaths.
"Don't mess with my friends," he says.
"Jimin is my friend too!" you retort. "What happens between me and Jimin has nothing to do with you."
"Just—"
"Just what, Jungkook?" you cut him off. "You had no right to punch Jimin like that. Why'd you even do it in the first place?" You place your hands on your hips as you wait for him to answer you, puffing out a breath in frustration.
He looks a bit lost, eyes darting from side to side to look for an answer. The longer the silence goes, the shorter your patience gets.
"Well?" you prompt.
"Just don't, alright?" he says lamely. You roll your eyes. "You can sleep with anyone else except—"
"Who the fuck gave you the right to tell me who I can and can't sleep with?" You're almost screaming now but you don't care. This push and pull with Jungkook is making you so angry you want to punch him. You walk up to him and shove at his chest but he barely stumbles back. It just angers you even further. "I don't even give you shit when you sleep with other girls!" You continue pushing him back, practically punching his chest now. "It's not like you agreed to be exclusive. You said it yourself that you still wanted to fuck around. That was the agreement."
Jungkook grabs your wrists to stop you from pushing him. You watch him clench his jaw as he makes eye contact with you. "What if I want to take back what I said?"
"What?" you mumble dumbly, all the fight leaving your body.
He lets go of your wrists and takes a step back. You watch him pace back and forth in his room. "What if I want us to be exclusive?"
You say the first thing that comes to mind. "You're lying." He must be. He's just trying to lure you in, get him on your good side again.
He looks at you dead in the eyes and it seems like all the anger and frustration is leaving his body as well. He looks defeated and tired, and you're sure you look the same. "I'm not. I never lie to you."
"You do, Kook," you say quietly. But you're not saying it to make him feel bad. You're simply saying it because it's the truth and both of you know that.
He sits down beside you on his bed and buries his face in his hands. You watch him and try to keep your tears at bay.
"Kook, if this is some sick joke—"
"It's not," he says all of a sudden. "What if I want us to be exclusive?" he tries again.
You don't like it when he looks at you like that. Like you matter to him. Like he actually cares. Like he feels the same way as you. Looking into his eyes is too much so you turn your head away and stare at the wall instead.
"Why?" you whisper.
"Because..." he tries. "Because—"
"Because what, Kook? Suddenly you don't like the idea of me sleeping with other guys? But you can sleep with other girls? And if I say yes to you, what'll happen then?" you say harshly. "Huh? You're gonna forget about me? Just use me whenever you want?"
"It's not like that, sweetheart." He tries grabbing your hand but you shake him off. You stand up and walk to the other side of the room, suddenly wanting to be away from him. Being near Jungkook clouds your senses and makes you act irrationally.
"Don't call me that." You feel your lips trembling and you're pretty sure tears are streaming down your face. "I don't know what you want from me, Jungkook. You can't even explain why you want us to be exclusive."
He mirrors your expression, big doe eyes suddenly teary as well. "I'm sorry," he chokes out. It stays silent after that. You nod to yourself. Maybe this is the best explanation you'll get. You gather your things and mumble a goodbye. You exit his bedroom and Jungkook doesn't chase after you. At this point you don't expect him to anymore. You bump into Mingyu and Jihyo upon exiting Jungkook's apartment. They call out to you but you ignore them and speed walk out of the building.
Your heart hurts. Like, it physically hurts. You know you should feel happy with what Jungkook's just told you. It's what you wanted ever since you fell for him. But why are you pushing away? Why don't you want to believe him all of a sudden?
Because you used to. Believe him, that is. Used to look at him all starry eyed with whatever he said. Said yes to whatever he asked. Looked at him like he can achieve world peace. Something stupid of the sort. Wore your heart on your sleeve every time you were with him. Even when you weren't, now that you think about it.
You always showed your feelings through your actions. He just showed his feelings through his words.
It's different but it's the same. This time you don't believe him. Stopped believing his words some time ago. Always knew there was some lie beneath his words. Always doubted what he said. Or just brushed it over your shoulder. Never let it settle in the crevices of your heart, which is sadly just filled with him. Him, him, him.
Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.
You should feel sorry for yourself for how much he's changed you without even trying to directly. You never thought you'd have to change yourself for a man. But here he is, making you doubt him and the world. You were never like this before.
You thought love was easy. That if it was the right person, everything would fall into place naturally. You didn't know love would be like this. That you'd always be cautious, always had your walls up, looking over your shoulder. That you had to fight for love, or that it hurt so much you found difficulty in breathing.
But is Jungkook the right person?
It's not something you want to answer yourself, because you'll get hurt either way. You just brush the thought aside like you do with your feelings.
You don't go back to your apartment because you know Jihyo thinks it'll be the first place you go to. Will barge in your room because she has a spare key. Is confrontational and protective of you like that, she'll ask questions right away.
But you don't want to think of what just transpired. You want to forget. Move on. Not sure if that means moving on from Jungkook entirely (you doubt you ever will) but you just want to forget about today.
So you keep walking. No destination in mind, you just let your feet walk you to wherever. Away from campus. Walking through some random park. Eventually, you end up at a Korean BBQ. Don't realize the meaning this place holds till you're seated. It's Jungkook's favorite restaurant. He brought you here twice.
Now you're here alone. You start feeling pathetic. Who the fuck goes to a restaurant like this alone? You scan the area—you see couples, friends, families eating together. But you're alone which means you have to grill the meat alone. Serve yourself. Eat by yourself.
You order two bottles of soju. Might as well be drunk while looking pathetic.
You think you've made a good decision. The food is good and you're doing everything yourself so you have no time to think about other things. Or people. Person.
You flip the meat only to see that you've flipped it too early. It's not properly cooked yet. Jungkook always knew when to flip it at the right time.
You sigh. That was what, twenty minutes of him being out of your head? At least it's progress. Somewhat.
After a while you decide you can't inhale anymore food. You'll probably explode. But a happy tummy is a happy heart. Or whatever people say. You're drunk, can't think straight. You're drunk but not stupid, so you ask Jihyo if she can pick you up.
She simply replies otw and is outside the restaurant ten minutes later. She comes in full force—which is really just Mingyu and Jimin with her in the car. It's Mingyu's car, anyway, so you expected to see him. You don't know why Jimin's with them, but you don't mind. Seeing your group of friends eases the ache in your heart even more. Even though one person's missing.
You don't mind. Well, just a little.
You smile at them as you walk to the car while Jihyo runs out of it to give you a big hug. She doesn't say anything as she rubs your back soothingly and you don't cry on her shoulder like you normally would. You're too tired of crying. Being sad.
You don't say anything as the both of you get back in the car. They don't ask about what happened and for that you're grateful. You don't want to process it yet, anyway. Don't think there's much to process. You love Jungkook and he doesn't love you back. Simple.
Your friends fill in the quiet pretty well. Jimin goes off on some tangent. You don't really know the topic. But Jihyo's interjecting from time to time. Mingyu makes a joke and it has all of you laughing. Eventually you get to Jimin's place. It's the usual hangout spot. A one bedroom apartment with a nice balcony. Not too big but not too small either. Just right for the four of you.
Usually five.
You don't know what transpired after you left Jungkook's place. How Mingyu and Jihyo saw you running out with tears down your cheeks. You don't know and you don't ask. You all watch a movie together. All fall asleep in Jimin's living room. Will complain about your backs hurting the next morning but you don't care. It's nice to be around them.
You leave Jimin's place the morning after. You, Mingyu and Jihyo leave because Jimin shoos all of you out. Says he has an exam to study for. He'll probably complain about it during lunch. Tuesdays are reserved for lunch with each other. Out on the quad, if it's sunny enough. In the cafeteria otherwise. You're not sure if Jungkook will show up. You doubt he will.
Mingyu and Jihyo walk you home. You shower and get ready for class. You move as if you're on autopilot. Shower. Get dressed. Get the right textbooks. Lock your door. Walk to class.
You put yourself in this bubble, in this false sense of security that things are ok. You'll be okay. You've been through a lot and you're still here standing, breathing, living. This? This is nothing.
You just have to give yourself time. Have to push your feelings away. Out of sight, out of mind. Don't think it works like that when it's about your feelings. Whatever. Your heart will mend itself back to place.
But what makes a heart whole? It's people, mostly. It's your friends. Your family.
Jungkook.
Always gonna be Jungkook.
And you're back at square one.
..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..
jk (sent two weeks ago): can we talk?
jk (sent one week ago): hi
jk (sent one week ago): can we talk pls?
jk (sent five days ago): y/n?
jk (sent three days ago): im so sorry, y/n. i just want to talk. please.
..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..
It's been two weeks since the incident and your group hasn't been complete ever since. Either Mingyu and Jihyo are with Jungkook, or with you. Things are starting to change for the worse, and it's making you sad.
At least Jimin and Jungkook have made up already. You don't know the details exactly (because you didn't ask), but you've heard that they've started hanging out again.
You and Jungkook?
You haven't replied to any of his texts. You haven't seen him for two weeks. It's weird. It feels like there's something wrong, something off. Like there's a small pebble in your shoe. Like there's a nagging voice in your head telling you to go back home because you forgot to unplug your straightener.
Like you're missing a piece of you. This hole in your chest that leaves you feeling empty.
You miss Jungkook. And not just the sex. You also miss the friendship. The intimate moments.
You don't have the courage to ask about him, to text him back or look for him. Frankly, you're still hurt from what transpired and you think you might just break if he hurts you again.
It's even raining today. The cold and gloomy weather dampens your mood even more. You baked cookies to try to cheer you up. You used to love baking but haven't done so in a while, you're not really sure why. But you needed an extra pick me up today.
You're holding the tupperware of cookies close to your chest when you walk in the cafeteria, looking for your friends. You always bake extra for them—love the looks on their faces when Jihyo counts all the cookies first and divides it accordingly, when Mingyu gets more than what he should have, when they all fight over the last piece.
When Jungkook would ask if you had extra cookies back at your place.
You don't think that'll happen anymore.
You spot your friends by a table in the corner of the cafeteria, next to a large window where the rain hits it outside in a steady patter.
You see Mingyu who's taking to Jimin, Jihyo typing something on her laptop.
And there's the missing piece, beanie-clad head hung low, tattooed hand busy writing on his notebook.
You feel your heart lurch in your chest. You stop walking, not minding that you're blocking the way.
You take deep breaths to calm your nerves. You have to see each other at some point. And also, you don't want your friends to feel awkward anymore.
You continue walking again and because the universe wants to torture you even further, the only available seat left is right across Jungkook.
"Hi," you chirp, trying to sound as cheery as you can as you sit down. Mingyu, Jihyo and Jimin all look at you in surprise, then Jimin starts talking about his day to fill in the awkward silence. The three of them try to make things go back to normal. You would've laughed at the looks of your friends' faces (sans Jungkook, because you refuse to look at him) if you didn't feel so nervous.
You join in the conversation as well, not an ounce of sadness shown on your face. You don't want your situation with Jungkook to affect the rest of your friends.
The both of you never address each other directly, but you do feel him looking at you from time to time.
You place the cookies in the middle of the table. Like old times, Jihyo counts all the cookies and tells everyone they can only have three pieces each. Mingyu eats more than three. The three of them fight over the last piece, Jimin proposing that they battle it out through rock paper scissors.
You're laughing at the scene in front of you. Good thing you saved some for yourself back at your apartment.
Amidst the chaos, you feel Jungkook lean over the table to whisper in your ear.
"You got more cookies back at yours?"
Your body stiffens at the proximity. Usually you'd say yes. He'd follow you home, make some small talk while you place cookies in a ziplock for him, then he'd hug you goodbye.
That was before the agreement. It was essentially the same routine when you started sleeping with each other, though of course he'd stay a little bit longer.
You turn your head and look at him for the first time. You will yourself not to cry, to steel your emotions.
He looks so soft, so comfy like he just rolled out of bed. He's wearing a beanie to tame his curls, and he's wearing one of his oversized shirts paired with gray sweatpants.
He smells good too. And you realize that you really, really miss him.
"Yeah," you say just as quietly. You feel your heart lighten, but your head's screaming at you to reject him.
Jungkook doesn't say anything else and neither do you. You wait for your friends to finish eating and once everyone stands up, Jungkook walks to your side. Jihyo looks at you quizzically but you just shake your head, silently telling her not to voice out anything out loud. You say your goodbyes and start walking towards your apartment, Jungkook right beside you.
It's silent. And a little bit awkward. You're thinking of what to tell him, whether he wants to talk about what happened, or he just wants your damn cookies.
You close the door behind the both of you and you immediately walk to your small kitchen, grabbing the container of extra cookies and putting some in a ziplock, like you usually do. You feel from the corner of your eyes that Jungkook's watching you, and you feel like your heart is about to burst at what he might say.
"About that night..." he starts.
You sigh and drop the cookies on the counter, turning to him to look at him directly. For the first time in a while, Jungkook looks nervous. Fingers fidgeting, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
"You know I like you, right?" you suddenly say.
"Yeah," he answers right away without a beat of hesitation.
"Then I want to stop whatever it is we have between us."
You watch Jungkook's face for his reaction. How his eyes widen, how he clenches and unclenches his fists, how his chest rises up and down in quick beats.
"Why?" he simply asks.
You bite your lip in thought, thinking of the right words to say. "I can't let you treat me like shit anymore, Jungkook. It's not healthy for the both of us. I don't know how you feel or what you want but look," you sigh. "You punched Jimin because what? Because I slept with him?"
"What if I want us to try?"
Now it's your turn for your eyes to widen, for your heart to lurch in your chest, body seizing at the question. Acting the same way you did when he asked the first time.
"Try?"
Jungkook nods, lips pursed as he walks closer to you. "You and me. Let's try. No more fooling around with other people." He swears under his breath as he comes to stand in front of you, both arms caging you against the counter. He breathes out and rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed like he's tired.
You're tired as well. But you let him do what he wants. Like you always do.
"(Y/N)," he starts to say. "Look, I— The thought of you sleeping with someone else... It made me crazy," he laughs dryly.
You lean back and scrunch your eyebrows at him. "Jungkook, I'm not some object for you to be possessive over. You just can't—"
"I don't mean it like that," he says, looking at you directly now. Your knees would've buckled at the intensity of his gaze were it not for your body leaning on the kitchen counter. "I just mean..." He turns his head to look away. "I just mean I can't bear the thought of you being with someone else anymore. Doing the things we do."
You open your mouth in reply then close it again when you realize you don't know what to say. You've been waiting to hear this confession for so long, but now that you've heard it, you're suddenly not happy. You're unsure. Guarded. Hurt.
"Jungkook," you whisper unsurely.
He turns his head back to you, gaze right on your lips before he locks eyes with you again.
"We can try. Please," he whispers. It's weird seeing Jungkook this way, all vulnerable and desperate. Begging. Usually, you'd be in his position. Not the other way around. "I promise this time."
You feel your resolve slowly crumbling. All the walls you've built up from your last interaction with him come falling down. You should hate yourself, you really should. But you know where your heart lies. What it wants. That you'd take any inkling of love he'd give you. Even if he may not mean it. Even if it might not last forever.
"Okay," you say, and the moment you do, you see the most beautiful smile grace his face. It makes you smile as well, ignoring the little voice in the back of your head to say no. "But we start slowly, alright?"
He nods his head, smile still there, body slowly pressing against yours. He nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck and your arms automatically go around him.
"Kook," you sigh. "We should probably talk first—"
"In the morning, baby," he says in between the kisses he's placing on your shoulder. "I promise."
You play with his hair while Jungkook does what he wants. Kissing your shoulder, your collarbone, up to your jaw. It's playful at first, big smooches echoing in your apartment. Then it starts getting heated the moment you feel his tongue on your skin.
"J-Jungkook," you stutter.
He grips your waist and lifts you up so you're seated on the counter. "You drive me crazy, I hope you know that."
You smile at him and say nothing else as you grab his face towards yours, finally reconnecting your lips with his. It's soft and sensual, no sense of urgency like how you usually kiss. Like how Jungkook had somewhere to be after. Or that he wanted to get it over with.
He's taking his time now by the way his lips mold slowly against yours, like he wants to map out how you taste, how you feel, how your tongue feels like pressed against his.
You stay like that for a while, just kissing and basking in each other's presence. Jungkook holds your waist firmly like he doesn't want to let go. Frankly, you don't want him to either.
You start getting antsy so you grab the hem of his shirt and try to slip it over his head. He laughs at your impatience as you throw the shirt somewhere in your apartment, hands going to his back instantly. Scratching your nails lightly down his skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Then your hands go down to his pants and you start toying with his jeans.
"Sweetheart," he leans back and chuckles. He holds your face gently. "There's no need to rush, okay? We've got all the time in the world."
You lean back as well, exhaling the breath you didn't know you were holding. "Okay," you agree. "Yeah, sorry."
"Let me take my time with you," he murmurs as he leans in again to kiss you.
Jungkook does his take time. Practically kisses every inch of your skin. Takes off your clothing one by one. Fingers you slowly that you're seeing stars. Cleans you up with his mouth that you're left breathless and dizzy. Disoriented. You're both (finally) naked by the time you're in bed.
"Look at yourself, baby," he whispers right into your ear.
His words go in your ear and out the other, head too clouded with the mind blowing orgasm he just gave you. You don't understand what he's telling you to do until he gently grabs your chin and turns it to where he wants you to look. Your eyes spot your full length mirror. You see yourself, bare and sitting on the bed with your legs folded beneath you, thighs open and pussy on display. Jungkook's right behind you in a similar position, body so big and wide that you notice the stark difference of your bodies.
You see your chest heaving up and down, tits moving in sync with your breaths. Your hands are resting on his thighs. Jungkook slithers his arm to wrap around your waist. Finally, you lock eyes with him through the mirror.
"See?" he says, though you don't really know what he wants you to see. "You look so pretty. S'why I can't get enough of you."
"Oh," you breathe out.
"Yeah, oh," Jungkook chuckles lightly. "Gonna fuck you now, okay?"
You nod your head in reply and Jungkook lifts you up a bit to enter you from behind. You gasp when he fills you up right away, a perfect fit like always. He starts thrusting slowly but deeply, and you feel his tip kiss your cervix each time. You would've toppled forward were it not for his protective hold around your waist.
"Feels good," you finally moan out.
"I know, baby," he pants from behind you. "You take me so well. Like you were made for me. Like we were made for each other."
Your heart seizes at that, and all words get stuck in your throat when Jungkook picks up the pace of his thrusts, both hands going to your chest to cup your breasts.
Jungkook presses his chest to your back, practically molding himself around your body, you're starting to feel as one. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, lips on your sweaty skin.
"I might not last long," he grunts.
"Me too," you mewl. It stays silent for a while, just both your breaths filling the room. It's not like you need to say anything, to be vocal like you both usually are. It's different this time and you know Jungkook can feel it too. With the way his body is pressed to yours, to his tight hold on you like you might disappear into thin air if he lets go, how his mouth never seems to leave your skin, how your hand holds his. Like you're too overwhelmed with the events that happened today, the past few weeks—since this started. That it's all coming to an end, but an end with a new beautiful beginning. It feels overwhelming because you're entering new territory. You still have your doubts (you don't think those will ever leave), but at least now you're on the same page with Jungkook. Together. Jumping into the unknown. Even if you're not sure how this will turn out—being together with him, for real this time. If it'll end in greater heartbreak or will be your best decision yet. But you're here because you want to try. You've let him in because you want to try. Because your heart has been with his from the start, you realize.
You're brought back to reality when Jungkook brings his hand up to wrap around your throat—not tightly, a hold barely there but firm enough to know he has you in his hold. You stare at yourself again in the mirror, at Jungkook moving his hips from behind you. How you're so pressed into each other.
"Jungkook," you choke out, suddenly so overwhelmed and full of emotion. His gaze shifts from your body to your face, looking at you through the mirror so intently you feel like melting. You move your hips back to meet his thrusts, your body feeling like it's on fire and that you might snap soon. "Kook, I—"
"I know, baby," he murmured. "I know." Knows that you're close, that this moment feels different, electrifying. "I got you, okay?" he whispers so sweetly. You lean your head back against his shoulder. "Let go for me. Hm?"
"Okay," you whisper, eyes closing and focusing on doing just that. It doesn't take you much longer to reach your peak, to let go and let the pleasure take control of your body. It comes to you gradually, getting stronger and stronger, and Jungkook talks you through it all. Though you can't make out his words since everything sounds so muffled. Like you're under water and the wave's crashed.
"Gonna come too," he grunts. "You're so beautiful when you come, baby. I can't—"
Jungkook reaches his orgasm after and fills up the condom. Fucks you so slow and deep through his high it sets you off once more. Don't realize that his finger is rubbing your clit slowly. Like he wanted you to reach your high again.
"That's it," he whispers. "So good for me."
You almost fall face first on your bed, but Jungkook catches you with a hand around your waist. Moves you around the bed so that you're laying on your back with him right beside you. You curl into him instantly as his arm wraps around your shoulder. He brings his lips to the crown of your head and places a gentle kiss.
You close your eyes and listen to the beat of his heart slowing down, focusing on the rise and fall of his chest. "We need to clean up soon," you mumble after a while.
"I'll do it," he mumbles back. "Let me just— Let me catch my breath first."
You laugh lightly, your body slowly succumbing to sleep. You feel Jungkook stand up and for a second your heart seizes in your chest. You keep your eyes closed while you try to listen for any sounds of clothes being picked up, of him getting dressed.
All you hear is your bathroom door being open then closed, then you feel a damp washcloth between your legs, and only then does your heart start beating again. Jungkook's back beside you in bed a few moments later, and then you finally succumb to sleep.
..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..
An alarm wakes you up the next morning. You know it isn't yours since it's not the usual ringtone you use. You open your eyes slowly and smile sleepily at Jungkook's arm draped across your waist. You look back to see him sleeping peacefully, mouth slightly ajar. You reach your arm out to your beside table to look for the noisy phone, realizing it's Jungkook's when you bring it close to your face to turn off the alarm.
You notice he's gotten a few notifications since last night, are about to place it back on your table when a text stands out to you. Waking you up fully. Your tummy churning, your breath seizing.
You can't see the preview of the message, but the name is enough to leave you feeling dizzy.
It's from Iseul. You know her because she's one of Jungkook's regulars. And you know this because she texts him a lot, her name always popping up in his phone. Not that you secretly went through it before, but sometimes Jungkook likes showing his phone to you and your friends, either of a cool photo he took lately or some random meme.
You try to stop your thoughts from thinking of the worst, but you can't help it. You and Jungkook haven't talked much about your relationship, because there is a lot to talk about. You know it won't all be fixed in one sitting. So you don't know if they're still seeing each other. You don't know if he meant what he said last night.
You start feeling ill, your palms sweating and your head beginning to pound. You find yourself standing up, getting dressed and grabbing just your phone with you. Never mind the fact that you're leaving Jungkook yet you're in your place. That he might still be here when you're back, whenever that will be. For the first time since you started this thing with him, you leave without saying goodbye.
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