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x0xomady · 2 months

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touchdown - pt. 2*

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⭒ Football!Harry / Coaches daughter!reader ⭒ frat boy harry ⭒ shy reader ⭒

warnings: smut, 18+, cursing, unprotected sex, name calling.

summary: after two years of being together, and harry being the varsity quarterback, the nfl drafts are approaching. when harry gets stressed out y/n is there to help him.

if u like my writing go check out my story on wattpad !! ⭒⭒⭒

harry has been the number one quarterback in his division for the last two years in a row. that means he has the chance of being drafted into the nfl this year. he was finally getting the chance to achieve his life goal.

the upside to this was he was doing it with his favorite person, y/n. after that night at the party two years ago, they went out on a couple dates and fell in love. ever since then, y/n has been harry’s rock when it comes to stressful situations.

y/n knew harry was going through a stressful time. she was able to see it in his behavior shift. it started with him not wanting to go to parties, then him barely talking. they were sitting together in their living room eating dinner and he hadn’t said more than a word.

every time y/n asked him a question or told him something he would just nod or hum. she understood that he was going through a hard time, but it worried her.

harry was usually the most attentive and reliable person to talk to. so, this behavior was weird for him.

“are you okay h?” y/n looked at him. he wasn’t even watching the tv, he was completely zoned out. “harry?”

“mhm” he didn’t say anything but that in response. the worst part about this little haze of harry’s was that they hadn’t slept together in over a week.

they had an extremely active sex life usually so this was weird for both of them. that’s when y/n got an idea. she grabbed the plate in harry’s lap and put it on the coffee table. he looked up at her confused.

she just smiled and straddled him. “i know your stressed baby,” she ran her fingers through harry’s thick curls “i want you to take it out on me.”

“mm want to be my little fuck toy angel?” he smiled and kissed her along the neck.

“yes please.” she kissed harry hard and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. he moaned out as she pressed her hips down on his, he needed this. with so much pent up anxiety and stress, he felt like was going to explode.

“gonna let me use you baby?” he picked her up laid her down on the couch on her back. “so dirty asking me to fuck you like a whore.”

y/n whimpered as he roughly pulled down her shorts. he left no time for sweetness or gentleness. everything was rough and quick. within no time he had them both naked and was attacking her lips again.

“bet your little cunt is already sopping wet.” he teased her and brought his two fingers to drag up her hole. “look at that my little toy is dripping for me.” he mocked her and harshly shoved his finger in.

“please h need your cock so bad.” she moaned out as he thrust his index finger in and out of her cunt. y/n has been waiting for this for over a week. she had been pent up and horny for the first time since her and harry started dating.

“aw look at that so needy for me.” he smirked and pulled his fingers out. “suck em clean for me angel”

y/n was quick to oblige she wrapped her lips around his fingers hastily while he groaned at the sight. she really was everything harry ever wanted. harry was already completely hard and dripping pre-cum, seeing his girl sopping wet like that did something to him.

“gonna fuck your little hole baby.” he grabbed her hips and pushed the tip in. no matter how many times they fuck, it’s always a tight squeeze considering how much bigger harry is. y/n was only 5’4 and harry was 6’2. this size difference always turned y/n on.

getting tired of his teasing y/n pushed her hips up quickly to try and speed him up. “no do that again and i’m not fucking you.” harry grabbed her hips and pushed them against the couch harshly. “want to go fast angel?” she whimpered and nodded at him.

“anything for you.” he smirked and snapped his hips up quickly. he hastily thrust in to her wet cunt. harry wrapped his big hands around throat and squeezed gently. y/n moaned out in delight and was clenching around his thick cock hard.

“so fucking good baby.” his face twisted in ecstasy as he thrust harder into her. harry moaned out finally bottoming out and pushing his hips against hers. y/n was obsessed with the way he looked. his sweaty chest looked like it was crafted by an angel. his thick curls were bouncing as he moved his hips against her.

harry had never been more grateful for his girlfriend. the stress of everything really had been taking a toll on him so this relief was welcomed. he loved watching the way her face contorted and the way her mouth dropped open in pleasure. he was obsessed with the way her tits were bouncing as he fucked her harshly.

“want to make you come first angel.” he moaned and pulled out quickly. y/n whined out a complaint. without his cock she felt empty. “stop being greedy.” he gave her ass a slap before leaning down and sucking her clit.

y/n reached forward and held his brown curls tightly. he could do wonders with his mouth. the way his soft lips held her bundle of nerves felt like pure bliss. he smirked at her reaction and brought his tongue to her hole. y/n absolutely loved it when he fucked her with his tongue. it was a feeling like none other. he was just so good with it.

“please harry need to come.” she ruts her hips against his face. his tongue on her hole and the way his nose was stimulating her clit was going to have her come faster than she expected.

“yeah baby come on my tongue then i’ll fuck you.” he smirked and continued the assault with his lips. harry loved eating her out much more than he should. maybe it was an oral fixation but he just loved to make his favorite girl feel good.

y/n could feel the bubble of pressure expanding. she needed this release so badly and harry was doing everything he could to give it to her. “fuck harry gonna come!” she whimpered out and held harry’s face close to her cunt as she came. harry absolutely loved it. he was entranced by her and couldn’t look away as she came on him.

as soon as y/n came down from her blissful high harry was on her again. he needed the release just as badly as she did. he wasted no time in thrusting his cock into her roughly. her sopping wet walls gave him no resistance as he fucked her harshly.

“such a perfect little cockslut for me angel.” harry groaned out continuing to snap his hips against hers. he had completely forgotten about all the other stressful things going on in his life. y/n was the only thing on his mind and he loved it.

it wasn’t long before harry could feel himself reaching the high he was so desperately chasing. “come with me baby.” he moaned out while pressing his thumb to her clit.

they both laid down on the couch panting and catching their breaths after the fuck. harry has never been more in love. her pretty little breaths and sighs of ecstasy brought a bright smile to his face.

neither of them said anything until harry’s phone rang. they both sat up and looked at each other in a panic. was this the phone call? if it was harry would finally know if her would reach his life goal.

he watched it ring for a second before hesitantly picking it up. harry has never been more anxious in his life. everything he had worked for in his life depended on this one call. y/n nodded at him with a smile and held his head tightly. she was just as anxious.

“hello, this is harry styles.” he said into the phone trying not to show his nervousness.

“hello harry! we are excited to inform you that you have been drafted onto the Green Bay Packers. More information will be sent to you soon. Congratulations.” and with that the phone call ended.

harry couldn’t believe it. he looked at y/n with a smile who was looking at him with a panicked expression.

“i think i’m ready to go again."

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thank you guys for the love on pt.1 !! i just wrote this for fun so the amount of attention it got was amazing. hope you love pt.2 !!

#harry styles #harry styles smut #one direction #dom harry styles #sub!harry #wattpad #harry edward styles #smut #fanfiction #x0xomady

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souliebird · 7 months

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[[and then I met you || ch. 7]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

When you escaped your parents’ house and moved into the city for college, you already knew the basics of cooking. Since you had turned fourteen, it had been your responsibility to feed yourself. 'You are old enough to figure it out' was what your parents had told you. Living in the dorms didn't give you much opportunity to cook and when you finally had your own kitchen to really play around in, you didn't have the money to afford a full pantry. It was hard, but it never deterred you and you learned a couple of good recipes.

When Minnie came along and you were able to figure out her likes and dislikes, you made a few changes - you could finally afford to get all organic produce and bread not made from ninety percent sawdust and you started cooking even more because your little one didn't like things from a can.

And despite what the experts and people online say, you give in to every one of Minnie's food whims. You don't want to force her to eat things she doesn't like. Your parents never listened to you, even if the food made you sick - you ate what was given to you or not at all. You are not going to do that to her and the rules you have come up with are she at least has to try something. If she doesn't like it, she doesn't need to eat it, and the past few months she's been pretty good at telling you why she doesn't like something. You don't always understand her reasoning, but you accept and tell her that she can try it again when she's bigger.

Her favorite thing that you make is lasagna. You make it from scratch and she usually loves to help you and will spend all day excited for ooey-gooey cheese.

Usually.

Today is not a usual day. Today your daughter is an upset little banshee. As soon as she woke up, she was in a bad mood. She didn't want to be touched at all and getting her dressed was a nightmare. Lots of 'no's and crying about how all her clothes were itchy until you finally allowed her to just wear her swimsuit. It was the only thing you could get her to stay in. You didn't even try with her hair, running your fingers through it to get out some knots, but that only lasted a full five seconds before she was running away from you.

You are trying to be patient with her - you know that something must be upsetting her, whether it be waking up on the wrong side of the bed or she's starting to get a cold and not feeling well. She doesn't know how to express herself beyond crying and you don't blame her. You want to cry when you don't feel well.

That doesn't mean it isn't stressful for you. The back of your skull is throbbing from her screams and your own mood is sour because you don't know how to help. Hearing her so upset breaks your heart.

Matt is supposed to come by, thus the homemade dinner, but part of you wonders if you should cancel. Minnie isn't going to calm down anytime soon and you would feel bad having him come over just to witness a tantrum. On the other hand, tantrums are a part of having a child.

You decide to leave it up to him and send him a text letting him know Minnie is having a bad day. He quickly responds he still wants to come, so you return to working on your tomato sauce as quietly as you can.

Mouse has hidden herself under a throw blanket with her tablet and her plushies on the couch. You don't worry about her doing anything she shouldn't be - the tablet is child locked to hell and back - but it is a little hard to tell what she is doing since she's muted the tablet. There is an eerie purple glow coming from under the blanket, so you can guess she's playing one of her games. You've found a few that don't require sound that she enjoys - a few dress up games and matching things.

Occasionally you hear her sniffle or mumble but she doesn't call for you, so you let her be. She didn't really nap today, so you're trying to avoid another meltdown. You are hoping when you remind her Matt is coming, it will help her mood. You're a little jealous he is obviously her new favorite person, but also you are so happy for it.

Your original idea of taking things slow has been adjusted based on her reaction. You wanted to start talking to her about family today and build her up to the idea of having a dad, then have Matt over so she starts that association. That obviously is not going to happen.

You finish up your prep and start to assemble the lasagna, laying sheets of pasta down before adding sauce and cheese then repeating the process until the pan is full. You made a little extra, with the intention of sending Matt home with leftovers. He had mentioned in passing that he doesn't get to cook much and living off take out is not ideal.

The baking pan gets put into the oven and the timer is set, then you aren't sure what to do with yourself. It will take about an hour and Matt is scheduled to arrive then.

You could do some cleaning, but with how Minnie is, you don't want to set her off. You know when she gets like this, any little thing can trigger her, so the best you can come up with is scrolling your phone.

Still, you want to be with your baby, so you make your way to the couch. You keep your voice just above a whisper, knowing she's been itching at her ears all day, "Mouse, can I sit with you on the couch?"

You know she heard you based on the way the blanket moves. It takes a moment before you hear a tiny 'okay'.

You tuck yourself into the opposite corner and take out your phone to bring up something to look at. As soon as you start scrolling your feed, the glowing blanket mound starts moving towards you and you are easily overtaken by it. Minnie gets herself into your lap, still hidden away, then flops against your chest. You can feel her tablet against your thigh and you're pretty sure Scooby is jammed into your stomach, but as long as she's good, you're good.

You keep an eye on the time as you flick through your phone. A majority of the news sites you follow are filling your feed with stories about the explosion in Connecticut. An uneasiness fills your stomach when you see the word 'attack' being thrown around. The headlines say they have determined the destruction was intentional and not an accident, though no one has claimed responsibility. Tony Stark gave some sort of press conference, so his face is all over your phone.

You don't need this today, so you switch over to browsing some online shops. Minnie is getting too big for her winter coat, so you definitely need to get her one before the weather changes and prices go up. You'll have to get her approval before you make a final purchase, but it's good to check what is in the market.

About twenty minutes before you are due to take the lasagna out of the oven, Matt texts you to let you know he is on his way. You confirm that you got his message, then gently run a hand over the mound in your lap, "Hey, sweetie. Dinner is almost ready. Do you remember what I said about dinner tonight?"

The blanket gets tugged and moved until Minnie can poke just the top of her head out. She squints at you, like she is judging you, before mumbling out, "Mister Matt is coming?"

You give her a soft smile, trying to comfort her in any way you can, "That's right, baby, Mister Matt is going to come over and have dinner with us."

She squirms in your lap, before flopping herself forward again and declaring, "I want juice."

"Okay, sweetie."

You manage to gather her, her blanket, her tablet, and some plushies into your arms and get Minnie on your hip to carry her to the kitchen. You're an expert at doing things one handed and it only takes you a minute to make up a sippy cup. Once that is in her little hands, you deposit her into her seat at the dining table. You let her keep her blanket and toys, setting up Scooby and Pig so they are in the seat next to her and her tablet is on the table in front of her.

She is indeed playing a dress up game and as she nurses her juice, she looks at each dress option for the character she's dressing. As she does that, you start to set the table around her. You can tell that despite the cuddles and quiet, your Mouse is still in a grumpy mood. You really, really hope that Matt will help her smile a little.

Once everything is set, you check on the lasagna. It smells and looks delicious to you, and you take the sheet tray out a little early so it can start to cool. That gets Minnie's attention, and you can see her watching you out of the corner of your eye. She's stuck her fingers in her mouth, sucking on them as her eyes follow you around the kitchen.

You are so busy watching Mouse watch you, you don't keep track of the time and when there is a soft knock at the front door, you jump.

You scurry to answer, putting your hand over your heart and telling yourself to chill out. You know who it is and why they are here, and you don't need to panic over it. It's just Matt, you tell yourself.

It's just Matt.

You open the door and your breath catches.

It is just Matt, but Matt is Matt, and he makes your heart pound in a different way.

He's come right from work, so he's in one of his crisp, fitted suits. His hair is fluffed up, like he's run his fingers through it too many times, and he's got that permanent five o'clock shadow. He looks like some GQ model, standing in your doorway.

Embarrassment runs through you. You're not nearly as dressed up as he is. Even on his casual days, he looks so fashionable and cool, and you are wearing biker shorts and a black T-shirt. You look by no means raggedy, but maybe you should have changed. Just because Matt can't see what you are wearing doesn't mean you can be a slob.

"Hi," you eventually choke out and Matt's face lights up.

"Hey there," he says back, then he's holding up a bottle of wine and smiling so sweetly, "I thought I'd try contributing this time and I figured you might need a glass."

You can't help but flush. Today has been rather long and a glass of wine sounds amazing. You don't drink often, but he is right and a glass to unwind sounds perfect.

"You're a saint," you praise, and step aside so he can come in. "How was your day? Oh, you can put your jacket and bag to your left. There's hooks about chest level."

Matt thanks you, then reaches out to feel the wall. He finds the hooks quickly, then hangs his saddle bag before starting to remove his coat, "it was good. We were able to wrap up a few smaller cases - sometimes it just takes someone getting a lawyer for others to cave and do the right thing. Cheaper to just do the right thing than get sued and having to do it anyways, plus all the pay outs and fees."

"That is good," you hum, very much meaning it. You're glad those people got the help they needed. "You mentioned having a handful of cases, so that frees up your plate a little bit, right?"

Matt laughs a little, smile still wide, "A little bit. It's a nice change of things - we aren't hurting for paying clients, so we are going to try to take on a few more pro-bono things. We're getting into a nice groove - or so Foggy claims. He's leading that charge - making sure we aren't over working ourselves."

"I'll have to send him a thank you card," you tease, surprising yourself with it.

"He'd like that, he'd get to lord it over me," he replies. Then he turns to you and steps forward, reaching out and finding your arm. He ghosts his fingers up until he oh-so-gently wraps them around your bicep and steps forward until you're a breath away from each other and you have to look down at his chest, so you are not staring at your own reflection in his glasses. His voice drops to something quiet and intimate, and you can barely hear him through the pounding of your heart in your ears.

"I told them. About you. About Minnie."

You find yourself smiling at the news. That makes it more real, doesn't it? It isn't just the courts acknowledging Matt is Minnie's father - it's the real world. It's Matt wanting her - wanting to show the world he wants his daughter.

That's all you want.

You step just a fraction closer, and to keep your balance and let Matt know how close you are, you place your hand in Matt's chest. Almost instantly, his free hand goes to your waist, and you feel steady.

You bite your bottom lip, then ask, your curiosity so much bigger than your ability to keep your mouth shut, "What did they say?"

He huffs and lightly shakes his head, "After yelling at me for keeping it a secret? They want to meet you, properly. If that is okay. I told them I'd ask you before confirming anything." He hums, then drops his voice even more, "Karen got me magnets so I could hang all the work I got up on my fridge at home."

"You're going to need a lot of them," you whisper back to him. "I ordered popsicle sticks and puff balls so she can make 3D things."

"I can't wait. Karen got me a bulk pack of magnets."

You giggle at that, but before you can reply, a needy little voice calls out from the dining table, "Mommy!"

You pull away from Matt, his fingers tracing down from your bicep to your wrist before he drops his hand, and turn to walk towards your daughter, "Yes, Mouse?"

"I'm hungry!"

She's poked her head out from under the blanket and is now wearing it like a cape and her chubby little cheeks are pulled down into an upset frown. You have a feeling a tantrum may be close - there's nothing worse than a hangry toddler.

You take a breath, then smile at your daughter, "Okay. Mister Matt is here so we can have dinner now. Do you want to tell him what we are having?"

Matt taps his way into the main living space, and you know you should give him a quick tour, but you think if you delay dinner at all, Minnie is going to start crying, so you tell him instead where the table is.

Minnie doesn't seem to want to engage, stuffing her fingers back into her mouth. Luckily, Matt isn't dissuaded by that. He sets the wine bottle down before taking the seat across from Minnie.

"It smells like we're going to have lasagna for dinner. Is that what we are having?" he asks, voice soft and gentle.

Your little one rocks side to side, keeping her fingers in her mouth before nodding. Normally, you would remind her to use her words, but you don't want to push, so you relay her message to Matt, "She nodded."

Matt hums softly in response. He tilts his head slightly, brows knitting together, before leaning forward just a fraction, "Do you want us to leave you alone until you eat?"

You are surprised by the question then even more surprised when he gets the tiniest, 'yes' in reply. Matt's face softens at that, and he nods to Minnie.

"Okay. Can I still talk to your Mommy, or do you want us to be quiet, too?"

You stand, dish towel in your hands, ready to bring the lasagna to the table, watching your daughter interact with her father. He's being so gentle and understanding with her and you can tell he's being genuine. You can hear the care in his words, how he's giving her choice and not pushing her to talk to him.

You'll gladly eat dinner in silence if Minnie doesn't want either of you to talk. You don't know how it will work, but you'll try.

Your little one doesn't answer the question right away. She looks between you and Matt, before pulling her fingers out of her mouth to speak, "You can talk to Mommy."

"Thank you, sweetheart. We'll be quiet, okay?" Matt promises.

You quickly parrot him, giving your own soft smile, "Thank you, baby. We'll keep it down."

Minnie snuggles herself tighter into her blanket and you take that as a sign to get yourself into gear. You carefully pick up the lasagna pan and bring it over to the table, setting it as far as possible away from your little one.

Matt tilts his head towards you, and the food, "That smells delicious. Did you make it yourself?"

You go back to the kitchen to get your serving utensils and answer in the softest voice you can muster that isn't whispering, "Thank you, I did. I found an all organic, from scratch recipe online and have been using it ever since. It's even fancy, way too expensive, cheese. I, uh, made extra. For you to take home, if you want."

Matt licks his lips, and you can tell he's trying to hold back a big smile. It makes your insides turn in a funny way - his kindness and appreciation. You are, as sad as it is, not used to such treatment and for whatever reason that, combined with Minnie's attitude, and Matt being in your apartment for the first time kick starts your anxiety. You are definitely very aware of your heartbeat, and it feels like someone dipped your heart into ice water before it disappears into a hollowness.

This feeling isn't new to you, so you try to push past it, not let your sudden panic ruin things, because despite your little one's sourness, things are okay. You tell yourself things are okay.

Your tiny bout of distress goes unnoticed, as it lasts the blink of an eye. Matt leans back in his chair, letting his smile start to crack through, "You didn't have to do that, but I will definitely take you up on it. I can't turn away a home cooked meal."

You force yourself to smile and cut out a slice of lasagna for Matt, before leaning over to place it on his plate, "Guests first."

"Thank you," Matt practically cooes, "I don't think I've been this excited for a dinner in a long time."

The praise does all sorts of things to you, so instead you focus on cutting out a little slice for Minnie and serving it to her. As soon as the food is in front of her, she stabs her fork into it and shovels a piece into her pouty mouth. You don't blame her at all.

"Would you like a glass of wine…?" You ask Matt. Minnie has her sippy juice, but you haven't set out any other drinks.

He gives you a soft, "Yes, please," and you go to get the two wine glasses you have and a cork screw. You bring them back to the table and set down the glasses before going to open the wine. You haven't done it in such a long time it takes you a minute of struggling to pop it. Matt turns his head towards you, a little grin on his face until you start pouring.

You give Matt his drink, then finally make your own plate before sitting beside Matt. Minnie is still angrily stabbing at her dinner and you feel so bad for her. Even with her favorite dinner and good company, she's not having it. You expect when you put her down, either she'll try to fight you or be asleep the moment she touches the covers. You very much hope for the latter.

Matt, on the other hand, looks completely enthralled with his plate. You can tell his eyes are closed and he's clearly enjoying what he's eating.

You don't press for conversation - instead reaching for your wine. It's a deep red and delicious on your tongue and you can't remember the last time you've had a good wine. You can feel your shoulders starting to loosen.

Which of course means, everything needs to come crashing down.

One moment everything is okay, then the next, Minnie is absolutely screeching. Her face is screwed up in pain and you scramble to get out of your chair to get to her.

"Minnie! What's wrong?!" You try to ask her over her wailing.

Instead of any sort of answer, she grabs for her fork, which is stabbed into her food, and throws it as hard as she can. You watch in horror as the fork and a large chunk of lasagna still attached to it flies over the table and smacks right into Matt's chest. Panic surges through you as he also bends forward and covers his ears with a distressed face, ignoring the food staining his shirt.

You try to grab Minnie from her booster, but she does not want it and instantly starts to try and fight you, flinging her arms and legs everywhere.

"Minnie, please," you beg as she kicks you in the hip, "What's wrong, baby?!"

The only reply you get is upset screaming.

"Cover her ears!"

Matt is very suddenly beside you and clapping his hands over your baby's ears. She fights it, squirming to get away and smacking at his arms with all her might, but he doesn't budge. You stare, not understanding what is going on, what set her off, and you don't know how to help.

You don't know how to help and that sinking feeling in your chest is returning and you're scared.

Matt says your name again, then almost barks at you, "Her headphones! Get her headphones, the strongest ones!"

You don't understand why but it's something you can help with, something you can do, and you rush to the bedroom and grab her sleeping headband. Minnie has always told you this one works the best, despite the reviews of the others. You run back to the dining area and nearly stumble upon what you see.

Matt has somehow gotten Minnie out of her booster seat and into his arms, and she is octopus clinging to him. Her face is pressed into his neck, one ear on his shoulder, while he keeps his hand clamped over the other. He's lightly bouncing her in his arm as she cries against him and part of you becomes extremely distressed at seeing someone else comfort your child.

You push that away quickly to hurry forward and hold up the headband, "I've got it."

Matt nods, then turns his focus back to Minnie. He noses her hair, and you can just barely hear him over her, "It's okay, baby, Mommy has your headband. We're gonna make it quiet. I know it hurts, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry."

You hesitate before stepping towards them. Minnie doesn't flail or pull away as you maneuver the headband and get it over both her ears. It feels so awkward to do as she cries and once it is on her head and over her ears, she reaches up and yanks on it until it is in place. Then she flops back down into the crook of Matt's neck, still crying but somehow not as urgently.

You are unsure of what to do, but everything in you screams to touch your child, so you shuffle close to Matt until you can put a comforting hand on her back.

"I'm right here, baby, it's okay," you whisper, gently rubbing a small circle along her spine.

Matt shifts slightly, and the hand that was covering Minnie's ear drops and he instead wraps it around your waist and pulls you closer, so you are flush against him, with Minnie between the two of you.

That seems to help with whatever has upset Minnie so much. She stays clinging to Matt while he oh so gently sways you back and forth. Her screeching dies down to tired-upset crying and you know she's going to keep going until she passes out.

To your absolute amazement, Matt doesn't seem deterred at all. He keeps his nose buried into his daughter's hair, talking quietly to her as she sobs, "It's okay. Shhhh, shhh. Feel my heartbeat, sweetie. Focus on that. The bad noise will stop soon, I promise. Just listen to your Mommy and I."

You have no idea what he is talking about - what the bad noise is - but it's calming Minnie down, so you let him keep going. You keep your hand on her back, gently doing your own 'shhh'ing, trying to encourage her to calm even more.

"That's my good girl," Matt hums, before giving her the briefest kiss against her temple. "Do you want to go to Mommy now?"

You don't hear Minnie respond, but she must in some way because soon enough she is being transferred into your arms. She clings to you loosely and you can feel her little body starting to droop. She must be close to wearing herself out.

She makes a little upset whine between her huffing and puffing, and you instantly take up gently bouncing her like Matt has been doing. Matt stays wrapped around both of you, taking over your role of rubbing Minnie's back.

You don't know how long you stay there, curled together and soothing Minnie, both of you whispering little words of love and comfort to your daughter.

You think you are past the worst of it, but of course that isn't the case.

Minnie starts squirming and fussing, reaching up and pressing at her ears over her headband. You look up to Matt, to see his reaction and your heart runs cold and fear spikes in you.

He looks absolutely murderous.

He's lifted his head and it is turned towards your living room, his brows scrunched and a scowl on his lips. You instinctively hug Minnie tight to you, but you quickly realize you have nothing to fear.

He stalks across your living room to your open window and yanks it shut. Right away, Minnie loops her arms back around your neck and settles with a sleepy sniffle. You press your face into her, rocking her a little more.

"I've got you, Mouse. It's okay. Mommy's right here."

You don't jump when Matt's hand brushes along your back and he once again wraps you in his arms. You allow yourself to turn ever so slightly and tuck yourself closer, lowering your head so it leans just barely against his shoulder, with Minnie hidden between your bodies.

You feel safe in that moment. You're confused why Minnie got so upset so suddenly and you're confused at how Matt knew how to handle it, but you feel safe, and even more so when Matt's arms tighten around you.

"I've got you both," he practically breathes against you. "I won't let anything get you. I'm here now. I've got you."

You close your eyes as the panic and adrenaline washes away from you and the exhaustion of your day starts to catch up to you. You very much understand how rubbing Minnie's back helps her sleep - Matt's started to drag his fingers up and down your spine and you know it could lull you into Dreamland.

Minnie's cries turn into sniffles and then quickly turn into quiet snores as the minutes pass.

You stay still until you are one hundred percent sure she's gone to the world before pulling back just slightly, and whisper, "I should go lay her down."

Your face is so close to Matt's you can practically taste his breath and your heart starts to pound at the realization of it.

You don't know if it is on account of your words or if he was also aware how tangled up the two of you were, but Matt drops his arms and steps away from you, nodding, "Yeah, she sounds pretty sleep now."

You chew your lip, not liking how your arms are suddenly chilly, but don't acknowledge it, "I'll be right back."

You turn and grab Scooby and Pig, knowing another tantrum will happen if your daughter wakes up alone, and head towards the bedroom. It is surprisingly easy to get her to let go of you and you deposit Minnie into her bed. You place her toys beside her and tuck her in, careful to not jostle her. You dare to kiss her forehead before pulling away.

As you turn to leave your bedroom, your window catches your eye. It is closed, but in front of it is a little table.

Just like in your living room. There is a table under the window, with more than a few knick knacks on it.

Your brow furrows and you return to the main living area. Matt has found his way back to the table and is drinking his glass of wine.

"Is she good?" He asks, setting down his glass and turning to face you.

"She didn't wake up at all, I think she's down for the count," you say, glancing towards where your window is before looking back to Matt. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," is his instant reply. You take a moment to look him over, from his fluffy hair, to the tomato sauce now on his shirt, to his fancy loafers, before returning to his handsome face.

"Matt…how did you know where the window is?"

tags list:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

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@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium @

two-unbeatable-beaters

#soulie writes #fanfiction #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil #and then i met you

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gardenschedule · 1 month

Text

just insane mclennon things

John playing his and Yoko's sex tape in a band meeting

As the meeting was drawing to a weary close, John, not this day with Yoko, who hadn’t seemed particularly connected with what was going on, said he wanted to play us a tape he and Yoko had made. He got up and put the cassette into the tape machine and stood beside it as we listened. The soft murmuring voices did not at first signal their purpose. It was a man and a woman but hard to hear, the microphone having been at a distance. I wondered if the lack of clarity was the point. Were we even meant to understand what was going on, was it a kind of artwork where we would not be able to put the voices into a context, and was context important? I felt perhaps this was something John and Yoko were examining. But then, after a few minutes, it became clear. John and Yoko were making love, with endearments, giggles, heavy breathing, both real and satirical, and the occasional more direct sounds of pleasure reaching for climax, all recorded by the faraway microphone. But there was something innocent about it too, as though they were engaged in a sweet serious game. John clicked the off button and turned again to look toward the table, his eyebrows quizzical above his round glasses, seemingly genuinely curious about what reaction his little tape would elicit. However often they’d shared small rooms in Hamburg, whatever they knew of each other’s love and sex lives, this tape seemed to have stopped the other three cold. Perhaps it touched a reserve of residual Northern reticence. After a palpable silence, Paul said, “Well, that’s an interesting one.” The others muttered something and the meeting was over. It occured to me as I was walking down the stairs that what we’d heard could have been an expression of 1960s freedom and openness but was it more likely that it was as if a gauntlet had been thrown down? “You need to understand that this is where she and I are now. I don’t want to hold your hand anymore.”

Paul putting beetles fucking on his album artwork

John hiring a pig and posing with it solely to mock Ram even though he was scared of it

At the end of the day a farmer delivered a huge hog to the mansion [Tittenhurst Park]. It was John’s notion to parody the album jacket photograph of Paul McCartney’s Ram, which showed Paul wrestling with a ram; John would wrestle with a pig. We all went outside and stared at the large surly animal. It was much bigger than any of us had expected. John circled the animal warily. He liked the idea, but he didn’t like the hog. Dan stood poised to snap the picture. “Climb on its back, John, and grab its ears,” he said. John looked doubtful. He stepped closer to the animal. It let out a shrill, strange, sound. John stepped back, but we all urged him on. “You can do it, John,” I said. John approached the animal once again. “I can’t hold the friggin’ pig for too long. You get one shot and one shot alone,” he told Dan.

Loving John: The Untold Story, May Pang

John & Yoko attempting to get revenge married in Paris 2 days after Paul & Linda

“On March 12, Paul married Linda Eastman at Marylebone Register Office in London, amid scenes of hysterical grief from his female fans. None of the other Beatles was present. The news reached John as he and Yoko were driving down to visit Aunt Mimi in Poole. Yoko’s divorce decree had become final a few weeks earlier, and, in a resurgence of Beatle copycat, John told her they, too, must get married as soon as possible”

Philip Norman, John Lennon: The life

We chose Gibraltar because it is quiet, British and friendly. We tried everywhere else first. I set out to get married on the car ferry and we would have arrived in France married, but they wouldn’t do it. We were no more successful with cruise ships. We tried embassies, but three weeks’ residence in Germany or two weeks’ in France were required.

John Lennon

SALEWICZ: Well, I always found it interesting the fact that he got – I mean, it seemed too much like coincidence to me, the fact that he got married a week or month after you. You know what I mean? PAUL: Yeah. I think we spurred each other into marriage. I mean, you know. They were very strong together, which left me out of the picture. So I got together with Linda and then we got strong with our own kind of thing. And I used to listen to a lot of what they said. I remember him saying to me, “You’ve got to work at marriage,” which is something I still remember as a bit of advice. I still remember that. Um… And then yeah, I think they were a little bit peeved that we got married first. Probably. In a little way, you know, just minor jealousies. And so they got married. I don’t know if that’s – I mean, who knows… [inaudible] making it up, anyway.

September, 1986 (MPL Communications, London): journalist Chris Salewicz

Their belief in telepathy & shared dreams

NEIL: I’d just rather not say anything. It’s one of those situations. PAUL: Yeah. [pause] Well, that’s – that’s the trouble you see, there, ‘cause that’s it. It’s like, with our – heightened awareness, the answer is not to say anything, you know. But it isn’t. ‘Cause I mean, we screw each other up totally if we don’t do that. ‘Cause we’re not ready for your heightened… vows of silence. [laughs; hapless] We’re really not! Like, we don’t know what the fuck each other’s talking about, when that – we all just sort of get— NEIL: I think it’s just between the four of you, that get it. That’s what I’d pretend. PAUL: Oh yeah, right, yeah. But you see, that’s it, that’s why John doesn’t say anything. ‘Cause he, you know, he just… There was something the other day, when I said, “Well, what do you think?” And he just stood there and didn’t say anything. And then – and I know exactly why, you know. I mean, I wouldn’t, if… [long pause] Somehow. You know, there’s nothing really much to be said about it. You just – we all just have to do it, and all that, instead of like talking about it. But – but if one of us is talking about it, it’s a drag if the other three aren’t. Because then it sort of throws you off. [inaudible; voice marking tape slate] I mean, we’ve just been talking about it now for a few years, you know. Like this…

From the Get Back sessions (13 January 1969).

HINDLE: What do you think about language? JOHN: I think it’s a bit crummy, you know? It is a drag form of communication, really. We’ll get – we’ll get telepathy. I believe that. HINDLE: You believe that? JOHN: Yeah, sure. Sure. Sure as anything I believe. It’s too… Because now we need it so much. [...] There are – there’s people everywhere of the same mind and it’s just… even amongst ourselves we can’t communicate. Which is the hard bit, you know. HINDLE: Yeah. JOHN: Amongst the people that sort of really agree. HINDLE: Just ’cause of words? JOHN: Just ’cause of words, and upbringing, and attitude, and how you express your… Well, it’s just some – you’ve got to find a mutual sort of language to express yourself, you know? And my language is that— HINDLE: Unless you fall in love it’s impossible to communicate like that. JOHN: I mean, I wasn’t in love last year, but I was communicating quite well with people. Not as well, or maybe not as powerfully. ’Cause now there’s two of us, doing that, brrmmm, whatever it is. Sending out a vibration or whatever. But before it was me and… or me and George, alright, or whatever it was; we weren’t in love, but. You know. There’s enough in you to shove it out. It is just that bit. If you – if somebody comes in a room and he’s uptight and that, he can make the whole room uptight.

John Lennon, interviewed by Maurice Hindle (December 1968).

PAUL: I remember when John and I were first hanging out together, I had a dream about digging in the garden with my hands. I’d dreamt that before but I’d never found anything other than an old tin can. But in this dream I found a gold coin. I kept digging and I found another. And another. The next day I told John about this amazing dream I’d had and he said, ‘That’s funny, I had the same dream’. So both of us had this dream of finding this treasure. And I suppose you could say it came true. I remember years later talking about it – ‘Remember that dream we had?’; ‘Yeah, that was far out’. So the message of that dream was: keep digging lads.

PAUL MCCARTNEY TO THE BIG ISSUE. FEBRUARY 2012.

John climbing the wall to Paul's house because Paul skipped a session for his & Linda's anniversary

(Not confirmed but supposedly)

Paul being utterly convinced that John can't be gay because he didn't try it on when they slept in the same bed

I mean, if John was–the trouble is, see, is he’s not here to fend for himself, and we can’t ask him, “‘Scuse me, John, are you–have you ever been gay?” I mean, he’s the kind— I remember people used to ask that. There were lots of people asking cheeky questions, and they were always saying, “Well, why–have you ever tried homosexuality, John?” You know, they always used to ask all that kind of stuff. I remember John saying to them, “No, I’ve never met a fella I fancy enough.” And that was his kind of opinion. You know, “I may go–I may be gay one day, if some fella really turns me on.” He was–he was that open about it. But as far as I was concerned, I slept in a million hotel rooms–as we all did–slept in a million places with John, and there was never any hint of it.

December 24th, 1983: interview with DJ Roger Scott

“And I say, if he’s homosexual, I thought he’d have made a pass at me in 20 years, darling.”

Paul McCartney talking about John Lennon.

“Brian Epstein, the Beatles’ manager, was a known homosexual. Epstein was always polite and charming. It has been insinuated that John was drawn to Epstein. I believe there was no such relationship between them. John was macho. But if John was a homosexual, it would have made no difference to me. I’ve asked Paul McCartney, who laughed and said: ‘Why not me? I’m handsome.’ Then he said: ‘I was holed up with John in hotel rooms everywhere. There was never a suggestion of anything like that.’ I believe him.”

Julia Baird, in Boston Globe: Lennon’s half-sister remembers… (2 October 1988).

“All I can ever say about it is that I slept with John a lot because you had to, you didn’t have more than one bed - and to my knowledge John was never gay.”

Paul McCartney, The Brian Epstein Story

And maybe he's right to be offended?

Did Lennon have sex with other men? “I think he had a desire to, but I think he was too inhibited,” says Ono. “No, not inhibited. He said, ‘I don’t mind if there’s an incredibly attractive guy.’ It’s very difficult: They would have to be not just physically attractive, but mentally very advanced too. And you can’t find people like that.” So did Lennon ever have sex with men? “No, I don’t think so,” says Ono. “The beginning of the year he was killed, he said to me, ‘I could have done it, but I can’t because I just never found somebody that was that attractive.’ Both John and I were into attractiveness—you know—beauty.”

Yoko Ono: I Still Fear John’s Killer by Tim Teeman for the Daily Beast (13 October 2015).

There was even some discussion, albeit not very serious, of whether he should stick to his own gender. “John said ‘It would hurt you like crazy if I made it with a girl. With a guy, maybe you wouldn’t be hurt, because that’s not competition. But I can’t make it with a guy because I love women too much, and I’d have to fall in love with the guy and I don’t think I can.’”

Yoko on her and John discussing the terms of an open marriage in 1973 (John Lennon: The Life)

On that note, Paul's obsession with sleeping in the same bed as John

Paul McCartney answers questions for Q magazine, 1998

John and I used to hitch-hike places together, it was something that we did together quite a lot; cementing our friendship, getting to know our feelings, our dreams, our ambitions together. It was a very wonderful period. I look back on it with great fondness. I particularly remember John and I would be squeezed in our little single bed, and Mike Robbins, who was a real nice guy, would come in late at night to say good night to us, switching off the lights as we were all going to bed.

Many Years From Now

John and I always liked wordplay. So, the phrase ‘She’s got a ticket to ride’ of course referred to riding on a bus or train, but – if you really want to know – it also referred to Ryde on the Isle of Wight, where my cousin Betty and her husband Mike were running a pub. That’s what they did; they ran pubs. He ended up as an entertainment manager at a Butlin’s holiday resort. Betty and Mike were very showbiz. It was great fun to visit them, so John and I hitchhiked down to Ryde, and when we wrote the song we were referring to the memory of this trip. It’s very cute now to think of me and John in a little single bed, top and tail, and Betty and Mike coming to tuck us in.

Paul McCartney, on ‘Ticket To Ride’. In The Lyrics (2021).

“John and I grew up like twins although he was a year and a half older than me. We grew up literally in the same bed because when we were on holiday, hitchhiking or whatever, we would share a bed. Or when we were writing songs as kids he’d be in my bedroom or I’d be in his. Or he’d be in my front parlour or I’d be in his, although his Aunt Mimi sometimes kicked us out into the vestibule!”

New Statesman, “Paul McCartney - Meet The Beatle,” September 26, 1997

“I wrote all those songs with him so…. what can I say to people?? We were kids! I mean… we slept together, topped and tailed in beds and hitch-hiking and stuff, so,…. I mean, we were just totally you know,….. mates.”

Paul McCartney

John taking matters into his own hand to start rumours about him and Paul

The consensus among John, Paul and Yoko that if J&P could have been together, they would have

“. . . I mean, I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away. And I understood that. I mean, I couldn’t stand in the way of someone who’d fallen in love. You can’t say, “Who’s this?” You can’t really do that. If I was a girl, maybe I could go out and… But you know I mean in this case I just sort of said, right – I mean, I didn’t say anything, but I could see that was the way it was going to go, and that Yoko would be very sort of powerful for him. So um, we all had to get out the way.”

Paul McCartney, interview with German tv program Exclusiv, April 1985.

JOHN: It’s a plus, it’s not a minus. The plus is that your best friend, also, can hold you without… I mean, I’m not a homosexual, or we could have had a homosexual relationship and maybe that would have satisfied it, with working with other male artists. [faltering] An artist – it’s more – it’s much better to be working with another artist of the same energy, and that’s why there’s always been Beatles or Marx Brothers or men, together. Because it’s alright for them to work together or whatever it is. It’s the same except that we sleep together, you know? I mean, not counting love and all the things on the side, just as a working relationship with her, it has all the benefits of working with another male artist and all the joint inspiration, and then we can hold hands too, right?

John Lennon, interview w/ Sandra Shevey. (Mid-June?, 1972)

Y: After the initial embarrassment, that how Paul is being very nice to me, he’s nice and a very, str- on the level, straight, sense, like wherever there’s something like happening at the Apple, he explains to me, as if I should know. And also whenever there’s something like they need a light man, or something like that he asks me if I know of anybody, things like that. And like I can see that he’s just now suddenly changing his attitude, like his being, he’s treating me with respect, not because it’s me, but because I belong to John. I hope that’s what it is because that would be nice. And I feel like he’s my younger brother or something like that. I’m sure that if he had been a woman or something, he would have been a great threat, because there’s something definitely very strong with me, John, and Paul.

Yoko Ono, Revolution Tape, June 4th 1968

"We thought we'd do a number of an old estranged fiancé of mine called Paul.""

youtube

As a second choice from the Lennon- McCartney songbook, Elton suggested 'I Saw Her Standing There'. This appealed to John for its antiquity, and because its lead vocal always was sung by Paul. (...) There was a whisper of Royal Variety Show mischief when he announced "a number by an old estranged fiancé of mine called Paul" - no one yet knowing the estranged fiancés were long reconciled.

John Lennon: The Life, Philip Norman

You know, John loved Paul. No doubt about it. I remember once he said to me, “I’m the only person who’s allowed to say things like that about Paul. I don’t like it when other people do.” He didn’t like if other people said nasty things about Paul. And he always referred to Paul as his estranged fiancé and things like that, like he did on that [live] record ‘I Saw Her Standing There’ with Elton in Madison Square Garden.

1990: Former Beatles publicist Tony King

Married couple signatures

(and the reverse of that postcard...)

John publicly predicting Paul & Linda's divorce

You were right about New York! I do love it; it's the ONLY PLACE TO BE. (Apart from anything else, they leave you alone too!) I see you prefer Scotland! (MM) -- I'll bet you your piece of Apple you'll be living in New York by 1974 (two years is the usual time it takes you right?)

John's letter to Paul in Melody Maker, 1971 Finally, about not telling anyone that I left the Beatles—PAUL and Klein both spent the day persuading me it was better not to say anything—asking me not to say anything because it would 'hurt the Beatles'—and 'let's just let it petre out'—remember? So get that into your petty little perversion of a mind, Mrs. McCartney—the cunts asked me to keep quiet about it. Of course, the money angle is important—to all of us—especially after all the petty shit that came from your insane family/in laws—and GOD HELP YOU OUT, PAUL—see you in two years—I reckon you'll be out then—inspite of it all, love to you both, from us two.

John's personal letter to Linda & Paul, 1971

JOHN: Oh, [Klein]’d love it if Paul would come back. I think he was hoping he would for years and years. He thought that if he did something, to show Paul that he could do it, Paul would come around. But no chance. I mean, I want him to come out of it, too, you know. He will one day. I give him five years, I’ve said that. In five years he’ll wake up. YOKO: And people don’t understand, you know. There’s so many groups that constantly announce they’re going to split, they’re going to split, and they can announce it every year, and it doesn’t mean they’re going to split. But people don’t understand what an extraordinary position the Beatles are in, you know. In every way. They’re in such an extraordinary position that they’re more insecure than other people. And so Klein thinks he’ll give Paul two years Linda-wise, you know. And John said, “No, Paul treasures things like children, things like that. It will be longer.” And of course, John was right.

John Lennon and Yoko Ono, interview w/ Peter McCabe and Robert Schonfeld. (September, 1971)

#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #mclennon #only a tiny fraction of insane things #they have such chaotic lore

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thecuriousquest · 8 months

Note

TodoBakuDeku with a broken darling? 👀

Don’t Get Your Hopes Up

Tag List: @issamomma @repostingmyfavs

Warnings: Yandere themes, SFW, implied kidnapping, broken reader, kind of short

Checkout my Master List here.

—————————————————————————

You’ve given up. Something you held onto for so long, hope, has finally snapped like a pencil. Every chance at escape has been thwarted by the crushing grip of your three captors. What did you expect? For them to let you walk free and be done with you?

No, no, no. Never. They have told you time and time again how much they adore and love you, how much you mean to them, how you will spend the rest of your life as theirs. Shoto Todoroki, Katsuki Bakugou, and Izuku Midoriya have finally broken you.

What is left of you now? Can you even call this living anymore? All you want is for the gentle hand of death to caress your cheek and take you with her. The sweet relief of your life as a victim to end, you’d do anything for that.

There’s nothing you can do to escape. They are individually smarter than you, but all three of their minds put together? You stand no chance in fighting a way out of this life.

You sit at the window in a chair that’s too comfortable for your own good in a knee length night gown. You see sunlight hit a patch of dandelions. Their white fuzzy manes dancing in the wind as they swing back and forth. You watch the roses getting bigger, and you remember three years ago when you were able to hold one in your hand after plucking it from outside.

You loved handling flowers. Now, you envy them for they get to be outside. They get to be washed in the rain and sit in the sun. You wish you could just spend one minute as carefree as a flower.

You don’t flinch anymore when you feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, you see Izuku standing over you with a smile on his freckled face.

“Hi, Izuku…” you say with a lack of cheer.

“I’m so glad to see you up, Bunny. Usually, you’re sleeping.”

Dropping your eyes towards the ground, you offer him a nod as a response. “I just wanted to watch the flowers.”

“Would you like to see them up close? The roses are in bloom.”

“…Outside? You want to take me outside?” Your mouth parts slightly as your brows furrow.

“Of course! That is where they live after all. Come on.” He grabs your hand and tugs you towards the door.

Bad memories flood your system from going even close to the front door. Izuku pulls you forward even though you’re hesitating in your tracks.

Sun beams touch your skin as you step outside in your white nightgown. Your bare feet tread the grass as Izuku guides you towards the rose bush.

They’re so beautiful and delicate, just as you remember. Your fingers reach out and gently touch the velvety petals. Looking at Izuku inquisitively, you’re about to ask him why he really brought you out here, but then his eyes are closed, and he’s sniffing the roses.

You watch him startle as a beetle lands on his nose. He starts swatting at his face, and you’re snorting at his franticness.

Bakugou and Todoroki walk out of the house, calling for you. They rush over when they lock eyes on you, and Shoto grabs your hand.

“What the hell are you two doing out here? Izuku, why didn’t you tell us you were going to bring her outside?”

All you can do is lower your head as you suffer under the tight grip of Shoto and Katsuki’s glare.

“I wanted to watch the roses bloom with her. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal since I was with her,” Izuku answers, brushing the two of them off.

You envy the fact that he can talk to them this way. If it were you, you’d probably get a mouthful of soap or a back hand to the face.

“We thought she got away again, you idiot! Come on. We’re going back inside,” Bakugou declares.

“Bunny wouldn’t have run away again. I was right here with her. You need to stop it, Kacchan. I don’t want you to scare her.”

“Maybe she needs to be scared,” the explosion hero grumbles as he takes you from Shoto and picks you up in his arms.

You let him carry you back into the house with an air of sadness swirling around you. Maybe, Izuku will be nice enough again to let you go outside. However, you don’t get your hopes up. You’ll never make that mistake again.

#triggering content #triggering themes #yandere #yandere themes #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #my hero acedamia #boku no hero academia #yandere shoto todoroki #yandere katsuki bakugou #yandere izuku midoriya #yandere todobakudeku #todobakudeku #mha shoto todoroki #mha katsuki bakugou #mha izuku midoriya

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kooktrash · 8 months

Note

Fighting heart mc has a little accident at home and needs to go to the hospital (maybe for stitches?) and jk calls her and nurse pick it up and says that she’s in hospital 😌 And of course he got panicked and rushed to the hospital and even after he saw that she’s perfectly fine he can’t help but cry because of the fear and all those ugly emotions (and he thought that something big happened to her) 😭😭 And of course he wouldn’t stop gushing over her and be her ‘yes man’

oooof I missed these two idk. jk has always been the more stressed out one so I could def see him completely losing his shit while oc is like “🤷🏽‍♀️Shit happens” he def makes a bigger deal out of it.

FIGHTING HEART

warnings: mentions of bl**d, oc cuts her leg with glass. jk gets anxiety from it. oc needed stitches 2.4K words.

You never considered yourself a handy man of any sort. You hate getting your hands dirty and you hate doing any sort of hard labor at all—it’ll mess up your manicure, but today you didn’t have much of a choice. You had just been lounging around your apartment all day with Jimin who decided he would come over and keep you company. Your boyfriend, Jungkook, has been stuck training lately because he’s got a big fight coming up and Jin has been really strict on him because of it. Even if he won’t admit it, you know he’s been stressed because if he wins, he’ll win big.

Jungkook has finally begun to really establish himself as a real boxer and right now he’s getting so many calls from just about anyone in the boxing world looking to set a match with him. He’s so close to being the lightweight champion and you know it’s been a lot of pressure on him so all you’ve wanted to do was show him your support and show him he could rely on you.

Maybe that’s why you decided to tackle this issue on your own today.

“You’re scaring me, Y/n,” Jimin said as he watched you stand on your kitchen counter trying to switch out a lightbulb, “If you fall Jungkook is going to kill me.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you turned to him with the huge, heavy lightbulb in your hands, “Stop being so negative, I’m very capable of changing a lightbulb, thank you very much.”

Jimin released a sigh, “I mean… if you say so.”

Jungkook was exhausted, his body ached everywhere and all he wanted to do was drive over to you, pull you into a bath with him and hopefully fall asleep after. Lately it feels like all he’s done is train with Hobi and right now he just wants to stop it all and go see you.

Of course he’s thankful for all the opportunities he’s been given in life but right now he just wants to be selfish and hang out with the love of his life without worrying about the newest brand deal—which right now, Calvin Klein has been blowing up Jin’s phone to sign the new and upcoming boxer as a brand ambassador. He thinks he’ll do it but only if he can get you signed on as well, it’s not like they would say no with the connections you have. Maybe he’ll talk to you about it tonight.

“Alright Kook, you wanna rest up tonight because tomorrow we’re doing it all over again,” Hoseok said to him as they walked toward their parked cars ready to end today’s session, “Are you going to see Y/n?”

“That’s the plan,” Jungkook said, already taking his phone out to call you, “I’m thinking we’ll get dinner and after that probably just lounge around.”

They said their goodbyes and once Jungkook was in the privacy of his car, he called you. Lately, he’s been so busy he almost feels guilty for not being able to see you. You’re so supportive and loving and all he wants to do is spend all his time with you but he’s finally doing something with his life and it’s all because of you so he just continues to push himself to his limits. He wants to be with someone worthy of you, no matter how many times you assure him you’ll love him no matter what.

You chose him over anyone else, even when you saw his poor living conditions with leaking roofs and broken cabinets. You stayed with him when you saw him lose control at an underground fight club. You’ve chosen him and he loves you so much that he misses you anytime he’s away.

When the call went to voicemail he couldn’t help but be confused, you told him you would just be home today so he wondered why you wouldn’t answer. Maybe you were sleeping or not around your phone, so he called you again just to be sure.

“Hello?”

Jungkook pulled the phone away from his ear, looking down at the screen to make sure he had in fact called you and not whatever guy was currently answering the phone, “Y/n?”

“Jungkook,” Jimin cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um, this is Jimin.”

He released a breath in relief, “Oh, where’s Y/n?”

“Um,” Jimin bit his lip nervously as he looked behind him. Jungkook waited for him to speak but the longer he stayed quiet the more worried he got. Why did Jimin answer your phone and why did he seem so nervous?

“Y/n can’t really answer the phone right now,” Jimin said, already imagining your overprotective boyfriend plunging his fist into Jimin’s pretty head, “She had an accident an—“

“What?” Jungkook hit the brakes hard, completely forgetting he was trying to drive out of the parking lot, “What do you mean accident? Where is she?”

“We’re at the hospital right now, they’re giving her stitches—“

“Where?” Jungkook’s voice dropped to a low octave as his blood ran cold. He barely listened to the hospital Jimin told him before he was hanging up and speeding toward you. He ran a couple red lights but he didn’t even care. He felt his anxiety begin to spike up to the point where his chest tightened painfully and it was getting hard for him to breathe.

Getting to the hospital all happened in a blur, he went straight to the E.R section and he knew that the nurse behind the counter thought he looked crazy.

He was drenched in sweat from training and his eyes were red, his hands shaky and his voice cracked when he asked what room you were in.

“She’s just finishing up surgery and she’ll be out soon, I’ll take you to where the friend is waiting,” the nurse said and he anxiously followed after her, biting his lip so hard that it bled. The elevator ride felt like an eternity and he ignored the nurse’s warning not to run as he searched for Jimin who sat outside the room with his head down.

“What happened?” Jungkook asked and there was no denying the panic in his voice. Jimin shot up out of his seat looking a little scared by the way Jungkook glared at him. Jimin bit his lip, “We were in her kitchen and Y/n was trying to change a stupid lightbulb and—“

“Ow!”

Jungkook looked to the room, the blinds were closed so he couldn’t even look in and the door was shut, “Oh my god, did she fall?”

Jimin nodded subtly, “Y/n dropped the bulb and I think it s-scared her and she ended up falling a-and, glass was everywhere a—“

“What the fuck were you doing?!” Jungkook yelled louder than he meant to and others immediately turned to him with worry. Jimin’s eyes widened at the way Jungkook grabbed at him and once Jungkook realized what he was doing, he immediately let him go, “I’m sorry, Jimin. Sorry… b-but, if something happens to Y/n…”

“I know man,” Jimin put a hand on his shoulder, “She’s just getting a few stitches and she’ll be out soon. I’m sorry.”

Jungkook sat down with his head in his hands, hiding himself as he shut his eyes trying to get his brain to shut up. He knows that you’ll be fine but he can’t help but imagine the worse. He’s been so busy lately and he told you he would switch the stupid lightbulb for you and just kept forgetting. This is all his fault. All of it.

The thought of you being hurt in even the slightest way made him sick to his stomach. You weren’t supposed to get hurt. He’s supposed to keep you safe and be there for you and he hasn’t been and he feels so fucking shitty because all he can picture right now is your fall. How bad was it? How did it happen? Jimin said there was glass everywhere…

How hurt were you?

It felt like years passed before they were finally let into the room. Jimin stood behind with guilt written all over his face as Jungkook went right to your side, immediately holding your face in his hands, “Baby, tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” you said with a smile as you looked down at your leg, “Just a couple stitches, nothing too bad.”

“Six stitches and a large piece of glass in her heel,” the doctor said as he looked down at his paperwork. Jungkook was hovering over you with his forehead pressed against yours, “I’m so sorry.”

“For what?” You asked brushing his sticky hair out of his face, “I’m fine.”

“She did great,” the doctor said, finally getting Jungkook’s attention, “We’re going to prescribe something for the pain and finish up some paperwork. We have a pair of crutches Y/n could use but she should be healed in about three weeks. As of right now, I’d say put as little weight on her foot as possible, it was a big fall and she’s definitely bruised up.”

“Thank you, doctor,” Jungkook said and you looked at him. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked down at your boyfriend who lifted your knuckles to his lips and kissed the top of them. You could see his reddened eyes and when he looked up at you it was clear he was crying, this is the second time you’ve seen your strong boyfriend cry and it broke you.

“Jimin,” you looked to your friend, “Can you give us a minute?”

The doctor took that as his cue to go get the paperwork and leave with your friend until it was just you and Jungkook. “Baby,” you called to him once you were alone and he allowed himself to fully break down against your hospital bed, “What’s wrong? Are you mad? I know you told me to wait b-but, I just wan—“

“I’m so sorry,” he cried, tears falling down his cheeks, “I’m so fucking sorry, Y/n. I keep telling you over and over again that I want to be someone you deserve and I just keep disappointing you.”

You sat up suddenly, wincing a little as you shifted your leg and Jungkook immediately looked up with fear, “Jungkook, this isn’t your fault at all. This was an accident, I was being impatient. Even Jimin told me it was a bad idea but I wanted to prove that I could do things on my own, obviously not bu—“

“Baby, you’re so strong and you don’t even know it,” Jungkook said as he sat down on the edge, careful not to take up too much room, “So strong and smart that you can do anything. I just… I should’ve just done it the first time you told me.”

“Don’t blame yourself for this,” You combed his hair back before wiping his tears away with your thumb, “And shouldn’t I be the one crying? I just got six stitches.”

Jungkook sniffled as he leaned forward and pulled you into a tight hug, “I was so scared, baby, so fucking scared that something horrible happened and I just… I just couldn’t get over the fact that I wasn’t around.”

Your eyes met his and to help him calm down, and remind him he won’t lose you, you kissed him. Jungkook kissed you back wantonly, hand in your hair and salty tears on his tongue, “I love you so much.”

The wait for the paperwork took forever and Jimin sat in the corner of the room watching you and Jungkook. He had been so exhausted from his training that when he rested his head on your chest, he fell asleep.

“You’ve got a very concerned boyfriend on your hands,” the nurse said once she returned, “I hear he caused a commotion downstairs and out in the hall just worried sick about you.”

“I’m sure he did,” you said in a whisper, brushing a finger against his cheek that had him waking up slowly, eyes hazy as he looked up at you.

“Alright, well just follow the doctor’s orders, once the numbing block wears off you’ll feel some pain because you sprained your ankle. We’ll do a follow up in about a week, how does that sound? Now I need the one she’ll be leaving with to sign these documents.

“Sounds good, we’ll be here,” Jungkook had your hand in his as he signed the paper with his free hand, there were crutches in her hands and she was motioning for you to try and sit up. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to tuck an arm under your back and the other one under your knees before he was lifting you up.

“No need for crutches?” The nurse asked, watching Jungkook pick you up with ease. Jimin took them from her with a thank you, “I guess not.”

“Babe, I can walk,” you tried telling him as he cradled you in his arms, “I’m heavy.”

“Shh, I’ve made guys bigger than you tap out with one punch,” Jungkook said as he carried you to the elevator with Jimin hot on your trails, “I think I’m capable of carrying my injured girlfriend to the car.”

When you got to the hotel you lived at, Jungkook had yet to let your feet touch the car even once. He helped you to bed using a pillow to rest your leg and making sure you were comfortable as he ran around looking for things you might need.

You giggled, “Kook, I’m not paralyzed, I can walk, just give me some time.”

“I know you’re strong babe but I really don’t want you over exerting yourself,” he said, “Just tell me what you want and I’ll go do it.”

“I still need the lightbulb fixed.”

“On it.”

Jungkook ran out to the kitchen, nearly crying again once he saw the mess on your perfectly polished marble floors. Once again he was reminded that you had probably been in a lot of pain and he wasn’t around. There was blood mixed with thin glass all over the floor and he went to your supply closet to get the cleaning supplies. If Jimin wasn’t around, what would have happened? Would you have forced yourself to stand and call an ambulance? Would you have called him or would you think he was too busy to answer?

The next morning Jungkook did not leave your side one bit. He called Hobi and told him he wouldn’t make it to training and spent his day doing everything he could for you.

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#jeon jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook one shot #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook #jungkook scenarios #jungkook request #kooktrash requests

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alotofpockets · 8 months

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Birthday surprise | Daniëlle van de Donk

Pairing: Daniëlle van de Donk x Reader

Summary: You join your wife at training camp on her birthday with a life changing surprise gift.

A/n: Let's pretend Daan's birthday wasn't like a month ago, I just needed a good setting for this fic haha

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | words: 650

This year your wife's birthday fell during the Dutch National Team's trainingscamp. Usually partners and guests weren't supposed to join the camps, but they had made an exception for you to join them today. You watched their morning practice on a bench in the sun. Watching Daniëlle play soccer was one of your favorite things to do but watching the way her face lights up when she wins one of the drills might make watching her practice even more fun.

You had known the team for years, so when their training was done most of the girls greeted you with a hug before heading to the changing rooms. Daan loved seeing you at practice, you had always been so supportive of her career and were present at every game you were able to go to. You took the time the girls were in the changing rooms to get Andries Jonker alone, you had called ahead to share your plans with him. He's the reason you're able to be at the training camp today, you wanted to thank him again and hand him the surprise present that you brought. You had arranged that it would be handed to her along with the flowers that she would get from the team, thinking that would make the surprise even bigger not instantly knowing that the gift came from me.

The dining hall filled up with people for lunch time. You sat with your wife’s teammates as you sang happy birthday to her. She stood in front of her red velvet cake, it was her favorite and she was so happy that they were able to get it. She gets handed a bouquet of white roses and as they go to take a picture to document the occasion, she asks for you to join her. You take some pictures before Andries steps up, “We have one more small gift for you.” He says as he hands her a small bag and takes the flowers to put them in the vase on the table. You had planned it exactly like this but you were still nervous, this gift would be life changing. Daan reaches into the bag and pulls out a bundled up jersey, she’s confused why the team would give her a jersey, but she tries not to show her confusion as she hands you the bag so that she can unbundle it.

She unbundles the fabric, realizing it’s a very small jersey. She turns it around and sees her name on the back. She looks over at you with big eyes, “Does this mean what I think it means?” Your nerves make room for excitement and your smile grows, “It does.” Daniëlle goes right in for a hug with tears streaming down her face. You hold her tight as your own tears run down your cheeks. “This is like the best birthday present ever.” She says as she slowly lets go to peck your lips. The rest of the team who had been just as shocked as Daan, all held their applause for you to have your moment. But the second the embrace ends, they start clapping and cheering. One by one her teammates and the staff members come over to congratulate you. Once everyone had their turn, you asked for a couple more pictures as the both of you held the jersey up, showing the back with the last name showing.

Both of you were overjoyed with the news. You had been trying different ways to get pregnant for a while now, and finally getting a positive pregnancy test meant so much. After lunch the two of you excuse yourselves to go outside and let everything sink in. You sit down on a nearby bench and start talking about how excited you are for this new chapter of your lives. “Happy birthday, my love.” You say before heading back to the team.

💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a tip💗

#danielle van de donk #danielle van de donk x reader #van de donk #oranjeleeuwinnen #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #nedwnt #nedwnt x reader

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chemicallady · 7 months

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Heyyy, would you possibly be able to do a Noah Sebastian story that is like a brothers best friend dynamic? I live eat and breathe this stuff lol

I WANNA FEEL LOVE AGAIN

Couple: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: slight mention of sexual intercorse. Nothing too deep, I'm saving it for next Chapters

Summary: you're a real mess, your life is turning into a living hell, so your brother Matt convinces you to move in with him in LA and start working for the band he's taking care of

A/N: I dont wanna spoil to much in here, because... Well, you' ll see. English is not my native language and no one peer review this ff. It's gonna be a world of fun, I already know it!

Important! I don't know Noah or Matt or any of the real people portrayed un this story. This is fictional!

Enjoy then 😏

Ouch, I've lost myself again

You've always been around, unseen. Having a brother like Matt could be a blessing and a nightmare in equal parts. You were feeded with stories about gigs and musicians while grow up with your older brother, who is dear to you in a way that actually you cant explain. Matt as always been your twin flame even if you are younger than him. You grew up looking at him with a lot of respect and it broke your heart when he left Texas, moving to California. At the time you werent ready for the big change and your brother's friend were still a bit mysterious to you.

You were used to spend as much time as possible in his company, but with this fresh start for him, you just fell into the ordinary. Nothing against your life, by the way; your parents always supporting, best friends ready to drive you to the closer pub and deliver the best night possible, a lovely boyfriend who adored you in any meaning.

You loved the shit out of Shawn. He was your person, the one always there when you were in need. Your high school sweetheart. Maybe he wasnt your first kiss or your first fuck but he was the one who made you feel like it was worthy, living for someone else. The one who pushed you to improve yourself for your own sake, that helped you in finding a job for the local tattoo shop as a piercer when the school was over.

You did everything in your power to be the best girlfriend possible. You decoreted your shared flat in the warmest way possible. You turned down a good scholarship for that college in Montana, pissing your parents and brother for this lost opportunity. You gave up to your dream to be a writer because he had to stay in Texas and take care of his mom. You helped him through the loss, when she die.

But it wasn't enough.

You loved the shit out of Shawn and he loved you in return, but it wasn't enough.

Your relationship suffered a slow, agonizing death with multiple attempt of reanimation. Vacations togheter, a bigger flat, a cat.

Nothing compensate the distance between the two of you and he was the one brave enough to call it for a quit. You knew was gonna happen but it didn't hurt you less. Moving back to your parents, while quitting your job just to avoid to meet him everyday, took you to the bottom. Then the shutdown decided to kick you while you were already down, spending days in bed just listen music or watching anime whitout any chance to go out with your friends or for just a walk.

Everyone was really worried about you. You lose weight and that energy that always marked you.

And you stayed there, drowing in your own misery until Matt decided that enough was enough.

《 Pack your shit, you're moving in with me to LA. You're done making mom and pops that upset.》

The end of fall 2021 signed your rebirth. Matt found a bigger apartment for the two of you and Lucifurr, your vicious black cat which has an obsession in chewing cables and destroy everything paper made. You have always want to leave nearby the ocean and Malibu had a ton of opportunities to offer you. You started a yoga class the same week you moved, in order to make some new friends. Accoding to Matt, there are a lot of things to do around the band he is working with, Bad Omens.

You offer yourself as a merchgirl, but since you're a good writer an even better in tolerate people bullshit (you have to be karmatic, all the teens who came to get a piercing to the shop have always made a scene in front of needles), you could be perfect as a PR/assistant for the band. You remember them barely because someway somehow, these are the guys who steal all the time Matt has. Time that you never get.

You remember this four guys with long hair, basic metalheads, except for the drummer. You remember when you gave him the nostril after a show in 2015, maybe 16, and he took it like a champ whitout complaining. You remember the singer, this slenderman type of guy with beautiful long hair that looks like silk. You've never felt more envy of someone else hair like that. And also the other three guys were nice, especially Vincent. The only one who you can connect to a familiar face because you two got a nice conversation on tattoos when you visited Matt, three years ago.

They are nice.

You've heard stories about them at every phone call.

But still, thieves of precious moments that you want have again in your life again between you and your brother.

All the missing birthday, all the call postponed due to technical issues. He wasn't there to pick up your pieces when Shawn get a rid of you.

And Matt wasn't supposed to, but being selfish, you wish he was there.

But he is now and this is enough to bring the light back to your life. The long talks after dinner, movie nights, everything is back to the normal between you two since you moved and it's restoring.

With this wave of good mood, even if you havent forgotten Shawn yet, you enroll to gym, so you can work out after yoga.

And is in this specific place that you meet Eric.

The first time you caught him lurking at you you were running on the thremill.

There is something familiar in him but still, you dont know anyone in LA. You were the one who actually landed the first conctact with this new alien subject, so introvert to avoid your eyes.

《 Today is hot as hell, right?》

Talking about the weather is the easiest card to play. He smiled a bit shily to you before answering. 《 Don't tell me, I hate how hot is in here. Are you new? I've never seen you around》

《 I just moved in with my brother, actually. 》

《 You're a southie for sure. I like your accent.》

You giggle at his words, while he gets some confidence, passing a hand through this short hair. 《 you got me. You don't sound californian as well》.

《 Maybe because I'm not》. There was a moment in which he seemed to be doubtful, like he changed his mind and he didn't want actually to talk with you. He looked at you with a weird expression, like he realised something was off. 《 What's your name?》, he asked then, almost suspicious.

And then you lied. You rarely give your real name to strangers. A self defence mechanism for girls. 《 Vanessa. You?》

He looked more relaxed, 《 Eric.》

《 Nice to meet you Eric... Do you know a nice bar around? 》

《 Maybe I know a place 》 he reflected, smiling a bit malicious. He was definitely flirting. 《 Can offer you a beer or something? Just to welcome you in town.》

You are not ready for a new story yet, but after almost a year after you broke up with Shawn, you needed at least some human conctact. Eric was nice with you since the beginning. He invited you to this dive bar after the gym a couple of times, not far from your place. He paid for you a couple of cocktails while having a real nice Conversation. A superficial one, about the tattoos that covered him. About living in LA. You mentioned your brother a couple of times and he talked about his roomates and all the crazy things they have done during the pandemic.

He told you he is a Producer and you told him you're still unemployed.

One way or another, he got closer to you in a matter of days. And when he kissed you, you obliged and kiss him back. One thing leaded to another and the two of you ended fucking in the back of his SUV. And oh boy... you needed it so much. It was a quickie, but he seemed to be promising. His long fingers stimulated you untill you cried out for pleasure. His mounth divoured you inch by inch. And his cock....

He knew how to use it, let's say that.

After, he gave you his number and the two of you planned to see each other by the end of the week, at the gym, after your yoga class and his class of jujitsu....

The morning after you're fresh and relaxed like you weren't in months. Matt tends to be overprotective so you didn't told him about Eric while you were having breakfast. You need to know this guys deeply before accept that you know have a situationship. And your brother doesn't need to know about you screacting you itchies.

He has a hot temper when someone looks at his dear little sis.

After breakfast you got ready to meet the band again after almost three years.

《 I can't believe Vincent quitted. He was the nicest.》

Matt sighs while driving to the guys' house, mentally focused on the traffic. 《 youll see him when we'll be in Virginia, don't worry. 》

Your eyes slip on streets and houses, wards and parks but you still feel like You're in a new country. You don't know how much it will take to get used to California.

《 here we are》 , Matt says, parking. 《 let's refresh the rules.》

《 Oh c'mon, I'm not twelve anymore》

《 y/n 》

《 alright! I don't have to embarrass you while you're free to be mean on me. I don't have to embarrass myself talking shit just because I'm nervous and if the music sucks, I can't tell your precious Noah.》

《 You can do better but, more or less, that's it. Lets go. I need another coffe and maybe something sweet before start to film the music video. 》

It's so weird filming inside a house and not in a proper set but all this low budget bullshit are quite the normal for small bands, you think.

You have to be their assistant and eventually a PR- so Matt can stop to bitching on twitter all the time- and you know nothing about bands.

According to Matt, you're going to learn quick.

According to Matt. You know that he picked you up for the job so he can force you to write what he wants.

And continuing to bitch around through you.

The guitar player greets you at the door and introduces himself again as Jolly. The rest of the guys minus Noah are in the garage. It's marvelous how Orie, one of the guys who lives here, a director, reorganize the space with tubes and flashlight.

《 What's the name of the song, again? 》 you ask to Nick Folio, whos already youre favorite.

《 Artifical Suicide》 it's the answer, while he takes his place back behind the drums.

《So emo》 it's your honest observation that makes him laught. Matt looks at you in a way that if he could, you would be incinerated where you're standing. You're already embarrassing him.

Nice.

You regret nothing.

It's a lil sister job to make her brother in troubles, that's what pops always says.

Mike brings you a coffe that you accept with a smile, than tells everyone the news about the singer that is still not here.

A diva, of course. That's your first thought. Every singer is a natural diva.

《 He is still looking for the glove.》

《 He would lost his head if it wasn't attacked to his neck》 , a solid comment arrives from Ruffilo, immediatly followed by an annoyed reply from behind you.

《 I can ear you motherfucker. You are- what the fuck?》

You turn in time to face the famous singer and almost choke with the coffe.

《 Yo Noah, do you remember my sister, y/n?》

You see Noah turning pale for a second while trying to say something in return.

You're also speechless for a second, before putting your shit togheter so Matt wont finds out in the first five minutes. 《 Howdy! You... you cut your hair. Nice. I didn't know》

You didn't.

That's why was so easy for Noah to be Eric for almost a week. For a hook up with you. His best friend sister.

....Splendid.

You're fucked.

#noah sebastian #bad omens #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian imagine #bad omens imagine

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xzhdjsj · 1 month

Text

Alex x Reader

Alex meets you again after years (his pov)

Here's a little something I wrote while procrastinating the Zaros fic and request I'm currently working on💀

ENJOY‼️

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Life in New York was all I’ve ever wanted; one major decision that changed the trajectory of my career path for the best it could ever be. But something was missing, New York just wasn’t home. My parents visited and my friends called but the loneliness was inevitable.

The collection of memories I held close to my heart had sufficed for more than a decade but I just couldn’t stay in some place, where I was all alone, anymore. Besides I had made enough money to restart a comfortable life back home, so I did just that. I moved back to England.

Initially I didn’t take any of the job offers I got, I needed the time to reconnect with the people I left. I was able to catch up with friends and colleagues, but not everyone stayed in one place. People move and change, start afresh and continue living. Maybe I should do the same.

I also couldn’t stay unemployed forever, so I decided to reopen a studio. It was nostalgic for sure, although I had no one to share the happiness with this time. Given my much improved resume, work was a bigger hit than it ever was and soon I found myself shooting for big companies and events.

Like the one I’m currently photographing. Some huge law firm hosted their annual anniversary celebration and hired me to capture important moments throughout the night. It was a lively event, a rich and deluxe atmosphere that I sure as hell did not fit into.

“Mister? Why do you look so worried?”, I hear a small voice, then felt a tug on the leg on my pants.

“Ah well hello there, who might you be?”, I squat to face the small child in front of me.

“Allison sir! But you can call me Allie!”

“Allie huh? That’s a cute name, I’m Alex”

“All my friends call me Allie! Nice to meet you Mr. Alex.”

“Really?”, I raise an eyebrow and she nods, “So does that mean we’re friends now?”

“It does!”

I take her little hand in mine for a handshake and she giggles.

“I’m hereeee!” Allison legs go of my hand and runs towards the voice as I get back on my feet.

“We’ll at least I have a friend here ton-”

“Allison? Honey where are you?”, a worried voice comes from behind Allison, a familiar voice.

“Allie I told you not to sneak off like that, I was worried.”, the familiar voice continues, gentle and soft as I remember it.

“It’s okay,” Allison drags the owner of the voice over to where I’m stationed. “Look I made a friend!”

“Oh really? Well let’s meet the... m”

I couldn’t hold eye contact. Not after how abruptly I left them so many years ago.

“Alex, its... its good to see you again” their voice still as soft as ever, delicate like flower’s petal.

“Meet Mr. Alex!”

“Name, hi”, I start off, a weak start even for me.

“Oh? You know Mr. Alex?”, Allison chimes in.

“Yes Al, Mr. Alex and I were... friends when we were younger.”

“friends”

None of this should bother me, a child shouldn’t need to know of our history together.

“Alex, this is Allison, my daughter.”

“my daughter”

Except it does bother me. It bothers me a lot actually.

“We’ve already met!”, Allison’s voice rings in again.

“It’s nice seeing you too, Allison has quite the charm.” I forced out.

“Right, I’m sorry sweetie.” they laugh with Allison.

“I knew it, I definitely remembered your eyes from somewhere.”, I reach down to pinch Allison’s cheek.

“Yes, I get that very often. I didn’t you were back, I thought you’d stayed in New York for good.” they smile.

God, I miss that smile.

“Thank you”

“Hahaha I just missed home. I didn’t feel like being away any longer.”

“Ah I see. Well then welcome back.”

There was nothing else to be said, and the silence could eat me whole.

“I’ll get going now, I hope you have fun tonight.”, they broke the silence.

“Yeah, you too.”

I watch as Allison holds onto their hand walking back to the middle of the room. My chest burns, it burns so much I feel like I might throw up but I keep watching them. I watch as they approach a man wearing a suit, who turns around and lifts Allison in his arms. His other arm wraps around their body and he kisses their forehead. I couldn’t take it anymore; I couldn’t watch anymore. I promptly excused myself, running to the bathroom. My throat clenched and I threw up. I must’ve stayed there for at least an hour. I cried and cried, more than I’ve ever cried even when we broke up.

I couldn’t help it. I kept thinking, that could’ve been me. I could’ve been the one holding a child that was ours and comforting them when they needed it. I wouldn’t be photographing anyone else tonight, I’d be beside them holding them and kissing them.

IT COULD’VE BEEN ME. IT SHOULD’VE BEEN ME. WE COULD’VE HAD IT ALL.

Could’ve, would’ve, I left… so we didn’t.

#zsakuva #sakuverse #asmr #alex #id pay money to see him cry and throw up from regret #this kinda reminds me of rolling in the deep by adele

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kseung · 1 year

Text

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Coffeen't

Requested.

Warnings: Coffee addiction :(, none more tho

Words: HC-126~, Drabble-844~, Both: 970~

I didn't know whether to write the HC or the Drabble, so I did both.

HC:

•You love coffee

•Yet, you love Wednesday more

•It's an addiction, honestly

•At first, Wednesday was glad you weren't being soul-sucked by the abyss that social media is

•But that was NOT better than finding out you, at most, get 3 hours of sleep

•And why? Coffee!

•She tries to get you to sleep at less-demonic hours

•Shes is not able to

•Hardest challenge ever

•Hyde? Trainer boss. You? Final boss.

•She tried to get you decaf coffee once. Never again.

•Bit by bit, you started drinking less coffee

•But you still weren't having 5 hours minimum, so she created a plan. Once you knew you wouldn't reject

•"Cuddle me."

•"What?"

•"Cuddle. Me. Don't make me repeat it."

•So you did.

•Best sleep ever.

Drabble:

You love coffee. You really love coffee. Everyone knew. Even those who weren't your friends. It was evident. Every day you are seen drinking at least 2 coffees. Americano, you say, but with the number of extra shots in there maybe it doesn't count as an Americano anymore.

—You should stop drinking that much coffee.

You looked at Wednesday, almost offended. Enid and Ajax eyed you for a while before returning to whatever lovey-dovey stuff they were doing. She stared, trying to intimidate you. As a challenge, she took your coffee so it could be safely away from you.

—I will not. You drink quads, little hypocrite. You're not so good yourself.

—Say that again and I'll break your hands.

—I mean, you sure love it when I-

She elbowed your side with force, making your grin become bigger. She knows how to kick ass. And it showed. You tried not to make it so obvious that you were in a bit of pain.

—No need to be so violent in public, Wednesday. We can leave that to your room if you-

She gave you your stupid coffee so you could shut up.

•••••

—I'm relieved you are not being indoctrinated by the endless pit of darkness social media is, but, please, stop drinking so much coffee! I can't tell now what I'd dislike more.

—It's not that bad!

—"It's not that bad", you say? You barely sleep 3 hours.

—I wouldn't sleep much anyway, you know.

—You still shouldn't drink that much coffee. It only gives you anxiety.

—At least it gives me mild anxiety. I wouldn't be able to live your life. It'd stress me out too much. Maybe I'd end up drinking double the coffee I do now.

—Don't be difficult.

—I'm just tryna defend my habit.

—Stupidly so—, Wednesday said. You agreed, smiling. It made her annoyed, which made you want to laugh.

—I won't drink more coffee today, don't worry about it.

She eyed you, and nodded. Classes were just continuing, so you went your separate ways.

•••••

You tried. You really tried. But "you really liked the taste," that's what you said. Perhaps it was only the chemical effect of caffeine on your body, or the addiction you were quite sure you had developed.

—I made this one with milk, and just one espresso. It's barely coffee—, you sulked. Wednesday wasn't as annoyed.

—At least you considered your health this time.

You hadn't...

—Yeah... well. As much as I like coffee, I know I should drink more water—.You shrugged and continued drinking. Wednesday sighed.

•••••

After some days of trying to drink less coffee, sleeping earlier, and having decaf, nothing changed. Your sleep schedule was that bad. It made you laugh in pity.

—I swear that if you don't sleep anytime soon I'll be the one putting you to sleep. Permanently.

You jumped in surprise. You hadn't expected Wednesday to wake up. Your head was too busy buried down in a book to check if she was asleep. You closed the book, placing it softly on your desk. When you turned around Wednesday was already glaring at you while sitting up.

—Sorry. I couldn't sleep.

You got up, slowly pushing your chair so it'd be put away. You toned down your lamp until it barely illuminated. It was nice having something other than darkness once in a while.

—It's 2:47 a.m. Lie down. Here—. She moved to her left a bit, then placing her right hand on top of your bedding.

That was an odd invitation, but maybe it was just because; it was your dorm, not hers, which meant no Enid; you had no roommate, so it was peaceful there. It meant she could be the tiniest bit more emotional when she was there.

—Right up.

You weren't complaining about that. Usually, when Wednesday stayed the night, she'd sleep on your bed and not question when and where you slept. You just had some naps here and there, on the desk chair. But she had no business knowing that.

You laid down next to her, stiff like a corpse next to another corpse.

—Loosen up. You won't ever sleep if you stay like that—, she said. Weird. It's odd seeing her be caring. —Else, I'd have no option but to hold you until you sleep.

—Are you saying you will cuddle with me, Wednesday?—, you asked playfully.

She responded with silence, as usual when you tease her. You kept silent too, staring at what you could, barely, make out of the ceiling. You heard a faint "hmm" before you felt an arm wrap itself around you, as light as a feather. You saw Wednesday staring back at you, clearly embarrassed. It was lovely.

You turned to your side, making her see your back. But of course, only to have her hug you tighter. You held her hand in yours as she embraced you. You beat her to her own game despite being tired now.

—No words. Night.

—Sleep well.

That you did, thanks to your very sweet girlfriend.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday adams #wednesday #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday imagine #wednesday imagines #fanfic

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willowser · 1 year

Text

i think that childhood best friends to lovers with kiri would actually be — an incredibly sad journey LOL

you're perfect in his eyes. quirkless, exactly as you're meant to be, with the potential to do anything. everything. the world is at your feet and he knows you'll go after it — it's him that falls flat, that can't follow in your footsteps. his quirk isn't anything special, nothing manly, and it won't make him a hero like his heroes. instead he's just in this odd, empty space in between. floating.

you accepting him that way — i think it would mean everything to him.

neither of you really know what to expect, when he goes off to ua. of course you're excited for him; even if his hair is new and he seems a little different, you can feel the build of confidence in him, the motivation he has to try, and that means more to you than the distance ever could. of all things, you want kiri to be happy, even if your friendship takes a backseat to bigger, better things.

days turn to weeks turn to months and the calls become less frequent. the first time he comes home in a while — maybe half a year — he brings his new friends and they're...incredible. strong and powerful and full of life, full of excitement, spontaneous and fun. the kind of people that become heroes. the kind of people kiri needs around him.

you don't think he means to be so distant; what little time the two of you get together is the same as it always is. cheesy movies and multi-player RPG's until the late, late hours of the night. pizza and energy drinks and jokes that are still as funny as they were when you were six. he sleeps on the couch instead of your bed now and doesn't sit as close as he used to, doesn't take his shirt off just because anymore — but you don't mind. you try not to. you try not to care about how much he sweats when you stare at him, or how red the back of his neck gets, or how it seems like he can't look you in the eye anymore.

you don't think he means it, and so you can't be angry at him. angry, no, hurt though...that's a little harder. because everything seems the same with him; it's not like he's upset with you or even wanting to leave you behind. he always apologizes for not keeping up, genuinely, looking like a sad little puppy even though you for forgive him, easily. you're not sure what has changed exactly, you're only sure that everything has.

kirishima's able to go pro very quickly, has a spot secured even before he's graduated. by the time he was sixteen, he'd already been in the news a handful of times, celebrated for the incredible hero he's always been capable of being, and the public loves him by the time he's eighteen. while he's out saving lives and making an impact on the entirety of japan, you're studying or trying to find a new date to the summer festival, because you know he won't be able to go. he doesn't make your graduation — and sounds really sorry about it, when he calls a few weeks after — and you get petty enough that you don't go to his either.

it's stupid, and you feel bad, but kirishima doesn't even notice.

a long time goes by, before you see each other again. all the attempts he makes to meet up with you are fruitless; either he can't make it or you don't want to try, too tired and embarrassed after being stood up time and time again. his apologies become redundant, and even if you know he means them, it doesn't make them any easier to hear.

naturally, you see him again at the worst moment: coming out of the gym, sweaty, without makeup and fighting off a painful zit on your chin. he's with his bestie — bakugou, who is even more terrifying at twenty-four than he was at fifteen — and kiri has his hair up in a cute half man-bun and it's longer than you remember and he's bigger than you remember and in a shirt that should hardly count as a shirt.

and he's overjoyed to see you.

"oh my god!" he laughs, smacking a hand to his forehead as you stand awkwardly in the doorway, trying to tuck your face down in the most nonchalant way.

it's the wrong move, because you don't see him step in to hug you.

"kirishima!" you squeal, trying to jerk away as you feel his cheek press against your damp hairline. you feel gross, even worse when you see the face bakugou makes. "quit it!"

"sorry! i just can't believe—" and when he sees the look on your face, the happiness on his drops, replaced by something like humiliation as he glances between you and his friend.

there's something terrible about the slow end of a friendship, and you can see it manifest in his expression. how much of a stranger the two of you have become over time, due to neglect, and it seems like all the ugly feelings are soaked up by him like a sponge.

you don't even know what to say. you don't even know if there's anything to say—no, no, that's not true; there are a million and one things to say, but you just don't know where to begin.

#kirishima drabble #this has been in my drafts for literally so long LOL #he doesn't even realize 🥺 he's just been so busy 🥺#in his mind he's getting better for you #becoming the kind of man that you deserve #and in your mind he's left you far far behind 🥺#woof can you imagine seeing him after a few years into his hero career and he's somehow bulked up even more and he's headed to the gym #scheduled #✿ willow writes #✿ thoughts: kirishima

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alpaca-clouds · 11 months

Text

Degrowth

I think what people need to realize - even outside of Solarpunk - is that we need to degrow. And I also feel that a lot of people do not even understand, what that might mean.

See, modern day capitalism is mostly based around one idea: "Make number go up." Companies need to show bigger and bigger wins with each and every year. Because if number goes up, investors get more money. But to make number go up, they need to find ways to either spend less money or sell more value.

This is the entire reason for the waste culture we have. Things are not made to last, because if they lasted, people would only buy one for a long while. And given that markets in the west are already pretty saturated, this means that things need to break quicker, so they can sell you the thing again.

The entire degrowth movement sees all of this and recongizes, that it is super toxic and harms people and planet.

Now, the economy (aka the capitalists) try to frame degrowth as a "culture of restrictions". But that is actually not really, what it is. Quite the opposite.

Degrowth means having things, that last longer. Degrowth means having the right to repair your stuff yourself and do it easily and cheaply. This would be true for your clothing and your computer. For your bike and whatever else.

Yes, degrowth might also mean less people owning cars. But it would also mean restructoring society in a way, that less people might need access to a car every day and all the time.

It might also mean, creating stuff for yourself, because you can. And having more time to do it. Because you do not need to sit in a work place to constantly create more value for your company to be able to make number go up.

Most of all, it would also mean to no longer judge the success of a country and its politics based on numbers like the GDP (which in essense is just another number supposed to go up). Because if you think about it, the GDP says very little about the life people have in a country. Why base it on such a number rather than, say, child mortality rates or education outcomes?

The entire fantasy behind the growth mentality is, that we can grow endlessly. But of course we cannot. Because at some point we can no longer extract value from people or the planet. So, just give up growth and rather try to find a way for people to live better and fuller lives.

#solarpunk #anti capitalism #fuck capitalism #degrowth #climate change #right to repair #utopia

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captain-mj · 4 months

Text

Portals

So Soap from Zombies and Ghost from campaign meet. That's the plot

CW: MCD I suppose? More they talk about the people that died before the fic starts

Ghost was drinking silently. He could feel how Price and Gaz were looking at him. The pity. The guilt.

“Simon. How are you feeling?”

“Captain. Please.” Ghost shut him down. Johnny’s ashes were probably still in the wind and they wanted him to talk.

Gaz tried a different approach. “Lieutenant. I miss him too.”

Ghost scoffed. Not because he doubted Gaz. He knew the two were best friends. It just… it wasn’t the same. There was no way they felt how he did in this moment because if they did, they wouldn’t look so fucking calm about it. It felt like he had finally found it. The piece that had been missing for so long. And once again, it had been ripped from him.

His heart felt frost bitten. Rotting.

“I know you loved him.” Price said softly.

“Doesn’t fucking matter. He’s gone.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to be at square one.”

Ghost slammed his drink down. “I’m heading back to base. Have a nice night.” He got up and left, simply shutting them all out. He hated talking to them sometimes.

The grief hit hard, making him regret every ounce of liquor he had drank. Ghost got into bed and just laid there to think. Behind his eyes, he could feel the emotions bubbling and boiling. There was this tension in his chest that made it impossible for him to breathe in properly.

Simon missed Johnny.

He missed him a whole lot.

Ghost showered and then tried to sleep. Sleep was never easy. Ever. But tonight, he knew it was going to be particularly difficult. He sat there until morning came, just staring.

Price had Ghost and Gaz for an emergency meeting a few months later. Ghost had not… improved very much, but he was still working and acting normal, so no one had suggested he retire. They all knew how much he needed work. “We’ve received some… orders.”

Gaz smiled. “Oh, it’s never good when you phrase it that way Captain. What’s going on?”

“There has been a strange amount of… interference we’ll say. Apparently, there’s a shiny purple light emitting from the ground and when civvies go in… they don’t come out.”

Ghost tilted his head. “Doesn’t sound like something we’d handle, sir.”

“Not usually. But I’ve been told we’ll be handling it by a higher up.”

“How high?”

“I was told their identity was classified.”

Gaz whistled. “Must be intense.”

“You can say that.” Price sighed. “We live at 0800. Get dressed, get your gear, and go.” He rapped his knuckles against the table once and then left them alone.

Gaz looked to Ghost, clearly trying to get some form of interaction. “What do you think it is?”

“Probably some natural disaster. Deadly gas in the air causing a reflection of light. People getting blinded by some form of solar event and then getting themselves killed. Could be a few things.

Gaz looked… less than satisfied by that answer.

In a dimension slightly to the left, Soap had spent two years of his life dedicated to Deadbolt. Ever since the zombies had taken Ghost from him, he had to. The memory was still painful even after all of this time and some days it felt like it only got bigger. For a few days, he didn’t kill Ghost. He should’ve… He knew that now. Their existence was painful.

But it was unfair. He had went to him and found him while he was still changing.

Ghost had slammed his head into the wall, gun out of bullets. Soap had no doubts that Ghost would’ve killed himself if he had been able.

All it did was break Ghost’s jaw though. Maybe that was his plan. To at least make sure he couldn’t hurt anyone else.

Soap had eventually told Samara who, thankfully, shot him. It had been one of the worst days of Soap’s life. She handed him his tags and asked the worst question ever.

“You loved him didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“You never told him.”

“I didn’t.”

Samara smiled sadly at him. “I hope you find peace, Sergeant.” She walked away from him.

Soap wanted her to stay, but they weren’t friends. He knew she didn’t leave out of cruelty, just a belief that he wanted to be alone. So he broke down alone, looking at Simon’s body. He let out wails that would’ve killed banshees. Cried enough to drown himself.

Eventually, he found routine. One day, he’d kill all of these bastards and fix everything. Maybe it would be too late, but it was something. Revenge since he couldn’t protect Ghost.

Soap received the call telling him something was happening on the F4 quadrant, possibly something going on with the mercs. So he got dressed, grabbed a trusty gutter knife and a longbow, and set out.

He could’ve spent that entire morning guessing what’d he find. An eternity of guessing even.

This possibility would never cross his mind.

Ghost. Wandering around the wreckage of the Urzikstan.

Ghost was there. Or at least a man in his exa-

“Johnny?”

Nope. Definitely Ghost.

“Simon.” Soap said softly but his gun was already coming up. “Stay where you are. Have you been bitten?”

Ghost stared at him. Big beautiful brown eyes that almost made him want to melt. A year ago he would’ve. His gun would be on the floor and he’d be throwing himself at Ghost. But he had learned things in the past year.

“No.”

“You drank anything?”

“No. Johnny… How are you here? You’re dead.”

Soap frowned. “You’re dead.”

They stared at each other silently. “Price and Gaz are nearby.”

“Haven’t seen those guys in ages… We’ll head back. My gun is going to stay trained on you. Nothing…” Soap noticed Ghost’s gaze staring at his mouth before trailing back to his eyes again. “Nothing personal. I swear.”

“Your accent. Not as thick as I remember it being.”

“Been here a long time.” He moved slowly so Ghost was now in front of him and then he started walking forward. “Call your buddies.”

Ghost got on his radio. “Hey. Gonna need back up over here. When you see us, don’t shoot.”

Price and Gaz both answered affirmative.

Gaz saw Soap and froze, just staring. “Sergeant MacTavish.” Something about the tone.

“Captain. Captan MacTavish.” Soap smiled tightly. “Stay in front. I’ll walk you back to base.”

Price tightened his jaw but he walked forward with the rest of them.

The three of them were held at gunpoint by Soap the entire time until he got them into a metal room.

“Decontamination room. Get out of your gear and put it in the buckets over there. Jackets too. If you’re comfortable, I’d take those pants off too. Anything that’s touched the outside.”

Ghost kept staring at him and Soap kept staring back. The two acted like planets that were just orbiting around each other. Any moment, they’d crash and smash to bits.

Ghost only took off the bare minimum where Gaz and Price were just fine taking off more.

“The mask.”

“I’m not taking it off.”

Soap smiled a little. “Aye. Not asking you too. I have a replacement though. One that hasn’t been… out there.”

“Those things we saw. The people that weren’t people.”

“Zombies. Yes. They’re caused by something in what we call the aether. It’s complicated. I know the chemical compounds in bombs down to the atoms. I understand the physics of a bullet and I took calculus. Doesn’t mean I know shite about what’s out there. Barerra has explained all of it more times than I can count and I still don’t get it.” Soap shook his head. “Mercs think they’ve cracked it every other week and they usually end up making something worse.”

Gaz pulled on some of the spare, clean clothing they were given. “There’s something worse than those things?”

“Much worse. But we’ll get to that.”

Samara grabbed Gaz and Price to make sure they were showered of the radiation, but when she went to take Ghost, she actually stuttered in her movements. Her eyes were so large as she stared at him. “Lieutenant Riley.”

“Ma’am?” He sounded confused but he kept glancing at Soap.

“I’ll take care of him.” Soap muttered and she looked at him, her eyes giving a clear message. Don’t be stupid.

Whether she meant don’t fuck up this clear second chance or don’t be stupid because he looks like Ghost was remained to be seen.

Soap had Ghost stand and he sprayed him with the gas. It was some cocktail Barrera and Ravenov made that seemed to get rid of the lingering aether on people. Soap looked away as Ghost silently took his mask off before hand and quickly pulled on the replacement he had been given. It was a ski mask that gave Soap just a slightly better view of those eyes.

Those beautiful eyes.

Soap felt like he was going insane. This should be impossible. But so was… everything else. Zombies were walking the earth. Maybe the universe had decided Soap could have this one thing. Ghost.

Eventually they were allowed into the base. The three of them kept looking at Soap with this… lost expression. Grief and confusion and joy and something weirdly close to sorrow.

Gaz managed to drag Soap around for just a little while. He was talking to him as if they were old friends but he’d occasionally reference something or say some inside joke and it would go over Soap’s head. Not all of them. Some he smoothly responded to and it felt like his friend Kyle had been able to visit.

From what Soap had been told, Gaz was simply told he was on a covert mission. They exchanged letters, but Soap’s letters were analyzed and half the time so much was redacted he told them to forget it. He explained this to Gaz, who of course understood, but it did leave Soap feeling even more isolated after Ghost’s death.

Price was… well. Soap didn’t know. He assumed he simply got a new sergeant and moved on.

It was all so difficult. All of it. It drove him mad some times. But he was doing good so he marched forth.

Gaz eventually smiled at him. “I assume you want to be alone with Ghost, right? Where’s yours?”

Soap felt his stomach drop. “Dead and buried. Those things out there got them before we even understood them.

“I see. Me?”

“Alive. You were needed elsewhere when this project started and then you just weren’t given the choice. I keep hoping they’ll accept new people so I can put in a word for ya but sometimes… think it’s better you’re out there.”

Gaz frowned. “You were shot in ours. Makarov.”

“That guy huh? Damn shame.”

“Yeah. Sure is. But I’ll get you alone with Ghost. Think you could both use it. He took your death hard…” Gaz suddenly hesitated before just moving forward. “You two in love in this universe as well?”

Soap’s face falling must’ve been enough. “Did we ever…”

“No. Don’t know why. But it was obvious. Whatever is going on here, I don’t know how long it’ll last. I think it might be good for you though. Both of you.”

Soap nodded. “Thank you… Kyle.”

“No problem Soap. Sorry, Captain MacTavish.” The two words were thrown with so much mocking in them a weaker man would’ve flinched.

“Sorry for correcting you.”

“Good.” Gaz walked off and in an astonishingly short amount of time, Soap and Ghost were locked in a room.

They kept staring at each other before Soap turned and looked out one of the windows. “So…”

“So I’m dead here.”

“And I’m dead there.”

“How strange we’d end up here.” Ghost muttered. “Two halves missing a piece.”

“You think we’re two halves?”

“Nah. You’ve always been better than me. Never got a chance to tell you that.”

Soap wondered what Ghost meant by that. “You never told me. I guess I should say him. You never told him. Why?”

“He came to me that day. He grabbed my hands and I knew. I Knew.” Ghost closed his eyes. Soap felt like he had lost the last tether he had to Ghost’s emotional state until he kept talking and Soap could hear the actual anguish in his voice. “Knew you… he was going to confess. I grabbed his face and told him to can it. He said if we died, he didn’t want to die with the regret of never saying it. I told him I knew what he was going to say. That after this mission, once we both came back alive, I’d let him say it to me but he had to wait. I don’t know why. I guess I just didn’t want to go into that mission with his love hanging over me.”

“Regret it?”

“I found his sketchbook of me. Not of everyone else. Just me. There were tons of notes. He could never get my face right because he only saw it once.”

“He got to see it?” Soap straightened, suddenly so viscerally jealous as to make him sick.

Ghost looked surprised but he took his mask off. “Not pretty. I know. But if I am your guys copy the way you’re mine, this is wha-”

Soap kissed him. It was so stupid. So juvenile. But he needed it. He held Ghost’s face and he was pleasantly surprised by Ghost wrapping his arms tight around him. “Johnny…”

“Simon…” Soap kissed at every inch of bare skin. “Ye’r so hot. Cannae help ye hid this from me.”

“Fuck i missed you speaking nonsense.”

Soap bit him and Ghost laughed. Fucking laughed. It was musical.

“I love you. I know I’m not him.” Soap muttered. “But I love you so much.”

“Johnny. I’m not your man either.”

“I know. I know but I need to say. I was supposed to say it that night. You came to me and you told me you loved me and I didn’t say it back. I do. I did. I just… I didn’t expect it.” Soap started to sob. “And then you were gone. And some fucking zombie was in your place and I held on I swear I did but there was no bringing them back and I’m…” He sobbed into Ghost’s soft company issued shirt. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Ghost held him tighter. “I love you too Johnny. I love you too.”

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #ghostsoap #cod #soapghost #ghoap

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cherrycola27 · 8 months

Text

false god

Series Warnings: Mythology!AU. Language, alcohol, drinking. Military inaccuracies. Mutual pining, unrequited love. Allusions to full smut. Minors DNI. 18+. Individual chapter warnings will come as needed. Banner Credit @thedroneranger

Masterlist Previous Part Next Part

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Chapter 11: Call It What You Want

Two weeks had passed since the incident with the God hunters. After being checked by medical for his "fall," Bradley learned that his nose wasn't broken but severely bruised. He was put on desk duty, but it had finally healed where he could be in his jet again.

In those two weeks, he'd spent every night in your apartment in your bed. His clothes had even found themselves in your drawers, and his toothbrush was next to yours by the sink. His deodorant sat next to yours in the medicine cabinet, and his razor and shaving products were neatly tucked beside your makeup. Bradley had also helped himself to more than a fair amount of your expensive shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, but you didn't care.

You were busy in the kitchen, uniform on, and ready to go when Bradley strolled in wearing a pair of swim trunks and his favorite Hawaiian shirt.

"G'Morning, Angel." He said as he gave you a quick peck before grabbing a coffee mug from your cabinet and pouring himself a cup.

"It's a morning. If it were a good morning, I'd be going to the beach with you, Bob, Phoenix, and Javy. Instead, I'm stuck in a classroom until lunch and have to fly with Payback, Fanboy, and Hangman later today." You sighed.

A new class of Top Gun recruits had just started. It was a smaller class than usual, so the Daggers had been alternating Fridays when it came to teaching. It was great because it made every other weekend a three day weekend. Unfortunately, you and Bradley had been put on opposite schedules.

"Don't worry, Baby. You'll survive, and this afternoon, I'll come pick you up, and we will go get the Bronco and then veg out on the couch." Bradley assured you.

The Bronco had been in the shop getting some necessary maintenance, and Bradley had been your chauffer for the week, insisting on driving even though it was your car.

"Have you thought anymore about what I said? I mean, most of your stuff has migrated here the past two weeks. You've slept here every night, and your lease is coming up next week!" You say. You'd been trying to get Bradley to move in with you. You lived in the same building, and it didn't make sense for him to keep paying for his apartment when yours was bigger and better.

Also, if he moved in, you might finally be able to have sex.

In the two weeks since Bradley had given you the best orgasm of your life, the two of you had gotten more physical. He'd treated you to his hands, and his glorious mouth more times than you could count, and you'd returned the favor, but there was something about going all the way with him that made you apprehensive.

In the back of your mind, you were terrified of losing control and hurting him while you were in the throws of passion. But maybe—maybe the security that him moving in brought would help you overcome that mental obstacle.

Because he made you feel safe

Bradley sighs, "Angel, I love you, but I don't want us to rush into anything. My lease is up in two weeks. I'll really think about it. I promise. Now we'd better get going before you're late." Bradley pecks your lips and snatches the car keys from your hand in one swift motion.

He holds your hand the whole walk down the hallway, and in the elevator, he can't resist pressing you to the wall for some heated kisses.

His hand rests on your thigh as he drives you to base. He slides into your reserved parking spot and gets out before coming to open your door. He gives you a goodbye kiss followed by a playful smack on your ass as you turn away from him.

You spin around to shoot him a look, but you laugh instead. Just before you leave, you blink three times and check his lifetime counter. It's unchanged, like it has been for weeks. You breathe out a sigh of relief before heading inside.

.................

A few hours later, you're almost done with your lecture, and Bradley will be coming to base to bring you lunch after his morning at the beach. You're teaching away with Payback and Fanboy. You're just about to change the slide on your presentation when you feel a twinge of pain in your chest. Your mind snaps to Bradley.

No, he was fine

You'd checked this morning

You dismissed it and keep working.

Maverick is sitting in his office working on some paperwork when his phone rings. He doesn't recognize the number, so he answers quickly. His breath catches in his throat when the person on the other line speaks

Hangman is just dismissing his class for lunch today when Maverick runs up to him in the hallway frantically searching for you. Mav explains everything and sends Jake to your room while he scrambles to get to the hospital.

You have about fifteen minutes left in your lecture, and someone's phone has just vibrated for the third time.

"Who's phone is that?" You practically yell at your students. A junior lieutenant raises their hand and points out that it's yours. You apologize for your outburst and go to silence your device.

The moment you touch it, the pain in your chest comes back, and it rings again. You answer it, stepping out into the hallway.

"Hello?" You say into the phone.

"Hello, is this Commander Y/N Kolasi?" A woman asks you.

"Yes. Who is this?" You question her.

"This is Dr. Maya Tunner from San Diego Medical Center. I have you listed as an emergency contact for Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw." She says. Your heart drops.

"Oh my god." You breath out.

"Miss Kolasi, I'm calling to inform you that Mr. Bradshaw was in a vehicular accident and has been brought in for treatment. He's about to go in for surgery, and we need you down here as soon as possible." Dr. Tunner says before hanging up the phone.

The world feels like it's spinning in slow motion. How could this be? You'd just checked his counter this morning. Your knees buckle. You lean against the wall for support as you try not to cry.

You hear someone calling your name but you can't place it.

"Hades—Hades—look at me." Jake says as he grabs your arms to steady you.

"Jake—it's Bradley—he—he—" you can't speak.

"I know. I know. Mav sent me to get you. He's on his way to the hospital now, I'm going to drive you there. I've got your things from your office, let's go." Jake says as he gently loops an arm around your back to keep you steady as he walks beside you. You're distraught. Your hands were shaking and tears were streaming down your face.

Jake had to buckle you into his car because of how much you were trembling.

"I can't believe this is happening. This wasn't supposed to happen. I checked before he left. He was supposed to be okay!" You mumbled over and over again between sobs as Jake drove you to San Diego Medical Center.

"Hades, everything is going to be fine. Take a few deep breaths." Jake tried to comfort you.

"You don't understand! I checked! I made sure! He was supposed to be fine!" You practically shouted at Jake.

"Checked what? Hades, you aren't making any sense. You're upset. Just relax." Jake said, more confused than anything.

You let our a groan of frustration. You made sure Bradley's lifetime counter was fine. This wasn't supposed to happen. You shouldn't have ignored your feeling. If something terrible happened to Bradley, it would be all your fault!

It would be the second time you hurt someone you loved

Moments later, Jake pulled into the parking lot at the hospital. You bolted from his car towards the entrance. You charged towards the nurses station in the emergency room to find out about Bradley, but Maverick intercepted, catching you by your shoulders and turning you to face him.

"Hades, slow down." Maverick said.

You swallowed thickly as you faced him. New tears lined your lashes as you began to speak

"I don't know how this happened, Mav. I checked to make sure he was going to be okay before he dropped me off. Nothing was wrong. He was safe. It didn't—it didn't change. I wouldn't have let him go if it changed. It's all my fault, Pete. It's all my fault!" You babble out hysterically. Before you started to hyperventilate.

Maverick gave you a confused look. He wasn't sure what you were talking about, but given the state you were in, he wasn't sure if you knew what you were saying either.

Obviously, the news of Bradley being in an accident had you shaken.

"Hades, breathe. I need you to breathe. I can't have you in the ER, too, Kid. C'mon, take a few deep breaths with me." Maverick said as he did a few deep breathing exercises with you.

Once you had your breath semi-regulated, you and Maverick sat down in some chairs at a far corner of the waiting room.

"I spoke to the doctors, nurses, and police and found out what happened. A box truck ran a red light and slamed into the driver's side of your car. It was your car that he was driving? Right? Because I remember the Bronco being in the shop." Maverick began. You nod your head.

"Okay, so the truck hit the driver's side door, and the car behind Bradley tried to stop, but they ended up rear-ending him. The paramedics said it could have been a lot worse. But, they did some x-rays and a CT scan. He's got a concussion, some bruised ribs, and a broken clavicle. He's in surgery right now to repair it. They'll probably have to put a steel rod in, depending on the damage, but he'll be okay. It will take him a few months to heal up, but Bradley will be able to fly again once he's recovered." Maverick told you.

Your heart hurts. This explains why his lifetime counter didn't change. The accident didn't put him in a near death situation, but you still feel like all of this is your fault. Your a Goddess for crying out loud, you should have been able to predict this.

Bradley was the one thing you had in life that you truly cared about. If you couldn't keep him safe, what purpose did you serve?

None, you were usless

You spend what feels like forever in the waiting room before a nurse finally takes you and Maverick back to Bradley's hospital room. You get a hold of Amelia to make sure Cerberus and Hyrda get a walk in. Penny calls you to tell you that she's going to bring them to her house tonight to look after them because she figures you'll want to stay with Bradley overnight.

You thank her and ask her to pack you a few things to bring to the hospital, and she is more than happy to oblige.

Soon, Bradley is being wheeled into the room. He's still a little groggy from the surgery, but a dopey grin appears on his face when he sees you. His left arm is in a sling, but he reaches out his right one and makes a grabby hand towards you.

"Angel!" He slurs, beckoning you to him.

"Hi, Bradley. Hi, Love." You greet him in a weepy voice as you go to his side. Mav comes to stand beside you.

"You gave us quite a scar there, Kid." Maverick remarks.

"Sorry, didn't mean to." Bradley laughs.

"I know you didn't. I'm just glad you're okay. The doctor says they want to keep you here for a day or two, just to make sure you're healing well. Hades has already volunteered to stay with you, which figured as much." Maverick chuckles.

"What about Hyrda and Cerberus?" Bradley asks. Even after a serious car and a morphine induced high, he's worried about the well-being of your pets.

"Penny and Amelia are going to look after them. Don't worry." You assure him.

Maverick gives Bradley a hug before going downstairs to meet Penny to get your bag from her.

"Angel, M'sorry about your car. It's all smashed up now." Bradley apologizes to you. If he didn't have a concussion, you would have slapped him on the head.

"Love, I don't care about the car. I can get a new one. It can be replaced. But you, there's not another one of you in the world. I'll never be able to replace you, Bradley. All that matters is that you are okay. I love you."

Bradley nodded and cupped your face with his free hand. You pushed some of his curls off of his forehead and placed a tender kiss on it.

.................

Bradley spent two days in the hospital and was eager to get out. Maverick had retrieved the Bronco, and you'd called up an old car sales associate friend of yours. It cost you more money than most could fathom, but you were able to get an almost identical replacement of your Range Rover, right down to the paint job.

But the cost didn't matter. Being on Earth for a thousand years, you'd made good investments. You had more money than you could every spend in an eternity.

Bradley couldn't believe it when he was wheeled out of the hospital and saw your car waiting for him. He wanted to question you but thought better of it.

His injury helped you with the move in debate, though.

You told him it would be better for his recovery. You could take care of him. After all, he was on bed rest with strict orders for no strenuous activity for twelve weeks.

Bradley hated the idea of being down so long. He also hated the fact that it would be even longer before he could sleep with you. Sex wasn't the most important thing to him in a relationship, but if he kept this streak up, it was never going to happen.

He silently hoped that he would heal faster because he doesn't know if he can make it til March to have you.

You were excited that Bradley was moving in with you. To have a two bedroom apartment, he hardly had anything. It took you, Maverick, and the rest of the Daggers less than a day to pack up, move, and unpack all of his belongings. Granted, he was just moving from his floor to yours, but it still seemed like it went by fairly easy.

Bradley disliked the fact that you wouldn't let him help. He hated feeling useless. You did your best to help him through everything, but he was a stubborn man. He was so used to being on his own that it was hard for him to rely on someone else.

Just like you

But, both of you pushed through and found a good rhythm with each other. It also didn't hurt that your favorite way to get Bradley's mind off things was to give him a sloppy blow job. He wasn't a fan of not being able to return the favor, but you worked through that, too.

It took a little getting used to, but while he couldn't do much in the way of touching you, Bradley loved watching you touch yourself, so, when he was feeling down, you put on a show for him before treating him with your mouth.

..............

Finally, Bradley was able to go back to work. He still had to keep his arm in a sling, and he couldn't do much more than file some papers and proved support in the classroom, but it felt good for him to be on base after three months away. He was going stir crazy in the apartment.

Bradley was also attending physical therapy and getting stronger every day. He was counting down the days he was cleared for physical activity again. As soon as he was, he was clearing both of your schedules and not letting you leave your bed for a week.

He was going to have you in every filthy way he'd imagined and even some that he hadn't thought of yet.

He couldn't wait for the chance to strip you down and enjoy every inch of your body. He longed for the day that he could have you fully bare before him, and he could inspect every single one of the tattoos on your thigh and appreciate every detail, because now that he thinks about it, Bradley isn't sure if he's seen you totally naked. He's seen almost every piece of lingerie you own, but your full birthday suit was still a bit of a mystery to him.

He knows that you have something tattooed on your hip bone, but he's never seen all of it. Soon, he hoped, soon.

Bradley was shaken from his thoughts of your naked body when your fully clothed one appeared in front of him.

You were wearing your flight suit, getting ready for a training exercise with your class of recruits.

"Hello, Love." You greeted him warmly as he stood up from his desk to kiss you.

"I was hoping you'd come watch me fly, maybe listen in on the tower?" You asked as you batted your eyes in a way that you knew Bradley would find irresistible.

"Angel, I have so much work to get done before my PT today." Bradley told you.

"Please. I miss seeing you. I miss flying with you." You whined, hoping you change his mind. You looked up at Bradley with big doe eyes and bit your lip.

He sighed and shook his head. "Fine, you win."

"Yay! See you soon!" You cheered as you pranced out of his office. Bradley chuckled as he watched you walk away. You really did have him wrapped around your finger. And then, for a fleeting moment, the thought crossed his mind again. He thought back to his recent search history, and the important thing his mother had given him that was tucked away in a safety deposit box at the bank and how you always wore silver jewelry.

But then he told himself that it was too soon. You'd known each other for less than a year. You'd never even talked about what he was thinking about. Was it something you wanted? Because he didn't realize it was something he wanted until he met you.

Bradley doesn't allow himself to think too long about it, or else he'll start spiraling down the rabbit hole like he did a few nights ago.

Instead, he grabs his phone and water bottle a heads up to the tower to listen in on the training exercise.

He takes a seat beside Maverick who gives him a genuine smile.

You and Hangman have your classes set up in teams, working together to try and take the other down.

You and one of your students, Don, Bradley thinks is his call sign, are working against Jake and his student Gunner.

Bradley hears you and Don working together, trying to trap Jake and his wingman. He had to give it to the kid. He was good, not as good as you and Bradley together, but good nonetheless.

Eventually, the two of you end up taking down Hangman and his wingman, and Bradley doesn't hold back his cheers. Jake may be his friend, but nothing makes him happier than seeing his girl succeed.

Bradley and Maverick come out of the tower and make their way down to the tarmac. Jake is walking with his tail tucked in between his legs, mumbling about how he's losing his edge.

A few of the students pass Bradley, and he is waiting for you. He catches sight of you, chatting with one of the recruits. Bradley assumes that it's Don, who you were just flying with.

You've got your helmet off and have a big smile on your face as you speak. Bradley can't quite put his finger on it, but something doesn't sit right with him about your student.

He's tall, at least as tall as Bradley, and maybe a little bit broader in the shoulders. He's walking close to you, closer than he should be, and when he takes off his helmet, that's when Bradley sees it. The million dollar, panty dropping grin that he's seen Jake use more than once at the Hard Deck.

You're absolutely oblivious to it, but Bradley doesn't like it. An unfamiliar feeling creeps up inside him the closer the two of you get. Bradley can make out his features now. Don has dark hair and olive skin. He has a chiseled jaw line and piercing eyes.

You through your head back laughing at something he says be for shoving his arm. The sinking feeling in Bradley's gut flares up again as Don pushes you back. His hand a little lower on your arm than necessary to be considered friendly.

The two of you finally make your way up to Bradley.

"Lieutenant Holden, this is my wingman, Lieutenant Commander Bradley Bradshaw, call sign, Rooster." You smile as you introduce Bradley.

"Pleasure to meet you, sir, Lieutenant Jackson Holden. Call sign Adonis, but most people call me Don." The younger man induces himself with a wink.

"Nice to meet you." Bradley says politely.

Adonis, what a fucking douche bag call sign. It might be worse than Hamgman. This kid definitely reminds Bradley of a younger version of Jake. Now he's even more mad that he can't fly, because he'd love to knock him down a few pegs.

"That was some pretty good flying you did up there." Bradley says.

"Thank you, sir, but I can't take credit for it, Hades is a great teacher." Adonis says as he smiles at you again. You blush. "I've learned a lot from her so far, and some there are plenty of other things that she could teach me." He says slyly.

Bradley tries to remain composed, but this kid is really pushing his luck. "Well—" you begin, "Why don't we hit the locker rooms and meet up at the Hard Deck in an hour? Drinks are on me for winning today!" You announce.

The rest of your students cheer and peel off, Adonis lingers for a moment longer before leaving. Bradley immediately takes your hand in his and kisses you.

"So proud of you, Baby, but do you have to go out tonight?" He asks.

"C'mon, Bradley. It will be fun. Trust me." You say. And he did trust you, it was others that he didn't.

...............

The Hard Deck was filled with life when you and Bradley arrived. It took the two of you a little longer to get there because you had to help him get dressed and make sure his sling was secure. He couldn't wait to get it off next week.

Phoenix shoved each of you a beer the moment she saw you and brought the two of you over to the corner the Daggers had taken up residence at.

Bradley sat on a stool and sulked. The Hard Deck wasn't as fun for him right now. He couldn't play pool or play the piano. All he could do was sit and drink.

About twenty minutes after the two of you arrived, your students showed up. Adnois was the first to greet you. He had bought you a drink and handed it to you before giving you an overly friendly hug.

The kid was wearing a tight black v-neck shirt with a silver chain peaking out. Bradley felt that familiar pang of —not jealousy— Bradley didn't jealous—shoot through him as he watched the younger man's muscles ripple under his shirt.

Bradley couldn't help but feel bad. Every since he's been injured, his once toned body with chisled muscles had become—softer. He was still fit, but not liked he'd once been.

He took another sip of his beer and watched you chart with your students, Adonis still glued to your side. He was trying his best to flirt with you, but you were oblivious to it.

Thankfully, Phoenix came and grabbed you to be her partner for a pool game against Bob and Coyote.

Bradley cheered you on from the sideline as a few others—including Adonis, watched on.

You bent over to take a shot, and Bradley didn't miss the way the younger man's eyes raked over your form. How could he not?

You were dressed in a crimson top with off the shoulder straps. A tight pair of high-waisted black shorts over your ass. The way you bent over the pool table let Bradley know that you definitely weren't wearing underwear.

He noticed a few of your students wag an eyebrow at each other. Bradley was doing his best to keep his cool. You were their instructor. They should be more respectful towards you, not looking at you like you were a piece of meat.

He downed the rest of his beer and stood up. He was just about to give all of them, Adonis included, a piece of his mind, but Jake was pulling him to the side to ask him a question.

You'd finished your pool game at about the same time, and Adonis was quickly leaving his table with his friends to come and take up more of your time. You were sitting at on a bar stool, and he'd brought you another drink and was invading your space under the guise that the bar was busy.

You were about to look for Bradley when Adonis placed a hand on your knee to keep your attention.

You immediately pushed his hand away and were about to say something when Bradley appeared at your side with a fresh drink. He pushed his way between the two of you before curling his good hand at the nape of your neck and pulled you in for a hot kiss.

"Sorry, Angel, you just looked so pretty sitting over here, I couldn't help myself," Bradley said as you pulled apart.

Bradley turned back towards Adonis. "Oh, sorry, I didn't see you there, Donnyboy." Bradley smirked as he curled you against his side.

"No problem, l, sir—I wasn't aware that you two were a couple." He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"We don't really advertise it. People like to make assumptions, but we've been seeing each other for about six months." You tell him.

"Well—um— I think I hear Gunner calling for me. Have a good night, Commander, Lieutenant Commander." Adonis says before shuffling away.

"Bradley!" You exclaim as you push his good shoulder.

"What?" He looks at you innocently.

"You know exactly what." You shoot back. Bradley laughs and rolls his eyes at you. "I just didn't want that kid to get any ideas."

You gap at your boyfriend. You don't know if it's funny or sexy that he was jealous of one of your students. You take a look at his slightly flushed faced and puffed out chest and decide that it's sexy—definitely sexy. That's the only logical explanation as to why you're clenching your thighs together right now.

You grab Bradley's hand and pull him off his seat. You weave through the crowd and settle your tab with Penny before leading him outside. You're parked in a dark corner, and once you get to you car, you press Bradley against it for a heated kiss, which he happily returns.

"So you're not mad at me?" Bradley asks as you separate for air.

"Oh, on the contrary, Lieutenant Commander. I thought it was extremely hot that you were jealous. Never thought I'd see a little green-eyed Rooster appear on your shoulder." You quip.

"I wasn't jealous—I just needed Donnyboy to know that you were off limits." Bradley defends himself.

"I'm his instructor and commanding officer, I think he knows I'm off limits." You say.

"You're my commanding officer, too. Didn't stop me." Bradley counters. You huff out a laugh.

"Touché. But he's a twenty-something kid who has probably never made a girl cum in a his life. You're a grown man and the first person who hasn't let me down in a thousand years. There's no contest, Love." You tell him as your lips slowly dance across the scars on his neck and up to his chin. "You can admit that you were jealous, Bradley. I think it's hot."

"Maybe I was a little jealous, I didn't like the way he was looking at you. At least the kid has good taste, but he can be hot for teacher for someone else because I don't plan on sharing." Bradley practically growls as his lips find yours again.

You rub your hand over the fly of his jeans, and you can feel how hard he is for you. "Let's go home, Love. I plan on giving you the sloppiest of sloppy head so I can show you just how sexy I think you are." You whisper in Bradley's ear. He doesn't have to be told twice. He's yanking your door open before climbing in the passenger seat, ready to go.

Bradley is thoroughly keyed up by the time the two of you get home. He's practically dragging you to the bedroom, and slamming the door behind the two of you once you're inside.

You're moving painfully slow as you undress him, drawing out the process. Bradley is shifting impatiently from foot to foot. He's desperate to have your warm, wet mouth around his aching cock.

You've gotten him out of his shirt and shoes. Your hand moves to the button of his jeans. You grab his zipper and drag it down slowly. A whine, an honest to gods whine, left Bradley's lips as you did so.

"Someone's impatient." You smirked up at him as you slipped your hand into his boxers and grasped his length.

He was hot and heavy in your hand, his tip, leaking precum as you stroked him.

"Angel." Bradley groaned. You looked up at him with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes before dropping to your knees and pulling his pants and underwear down in one swoop.

Bradley's cock sprang free and slapped against his abdomen. Now that you were eye level with it, you could see just how needy he was for you.

The ridged veins were prominent as all seven and a half inches of him stood at attention. His tip was flushed, an angry red with a pearl of precum beaded on the end.

Your tongue darted out of your mouth and wet your lips before it swiped along his slit. Bradley's knees buckled at the sensation.

You chuckle as you spit in your hand and wrapped it around him, pumping his cock, making him even harder.

"Baby—please—don't tease me." Bradley breathed out.

"Me? Tease you? Never." You winked at him as you stood up. "Go get on the bed, Love." You instructed him.

Bradley clambered up the bed and propped himself up on the pillows. You climbed on the edge and crawled towards him. The way you were leaning gave him a perfect view of your cleavage. You wasted no time running your tongue along the vein that ran the length of his cock, before spitting on the tip and letting it run down. You took him fully down your throat without warning, causing Bradley to buck his hips into your mouth.

You gagged and constricted your throat around him as you bobbed on his member before swallowing around him.

God, Bradley loved how your mouth felt on him. You knew exactly what to do to get him hurdling towards the edge.

He watched his length disappear into your mouth over and over again. He was enamored by the way he could see the outline of his cock in your cheek as you took him.

Saliva pooled at the corners of your mouth and dripped down on him. He had to give it to you. You made good on your promise to give him sloppy head, but every now and then, he would catch sight of the perfect way your top pushed your breast together.

The red fabric barely keeping them contained. If you worked him any harder, he was sure they would spill out.

Bradley uncurled his good hand from the sheets and threaded his fingers through your hair.

He pulled you off of him with a pop. You rested your chin on his thigh and covered the underside of his length with barely there kisses, you looked up at him and smiled before sitting up on your knees and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

When you sat up, his suspension that you weren't wearing a bra was confirmed because he could see the stiff peaks of your nipples straining against the fabric of your shirt.

"See something you like?" You asked him as he continued to marvel at you.

"Have I ever told you that you have the most gorgeous tits?" He blurts out. "A time of two." You smirk at him.

"Well, I'm telling you again. They are absolutely fucking beautiful shit—I wish I could—fuck—" He trails off.

"You wish you could what, Lieutenant Commander?" You probe him, knowing that using his rank will get him going.

"I want to fuck your titties." Bradley practically growls.

You let out a breathy laugh. "Okay."

"Okay?" Bradley questions you. You don't answer him.

Instead, you make a show of reaching behind your back and pulling down the zipper of your top. You slide it down your arms and toss it to the side. You step off the bed to grab the bottle of lube you keep in your nightstand before returning to Bradley.

You open the cap and seductively drizzle some of the cool liquid over both of your breasts. You close the bottle and toss it to the side before taking both hands and palming the soft tissue.

Bradley groans as you tease your nippes and trace your hands along the Greek letters you have tattooed under your breast.

Once they are sticky and shiny, you push them together before sliding them over Bradley's dick.

He arches his back so hard that he nearly comes off the bed.

You repeat the motion over and over, rolling, pulling, and squeezing your breasts around his cock.

A string of filthy moans and praises leave Bradley's lips as he thrusts his hip upwards to meet your movements.

He can feel the telltale sensation in his lower belly that he's about to cum. He grunts put a warning, "Fuck, Angel, I'm close."

"Come for me, Love, get me all messy!" You encourage him as you continue to work him over.

You pump him once, twice, three times before a deep groan reverberates from Bradley's chest and hot cum sputters from his tip, coating your breast and face in thick, white ropes.

You lick what you can from your face, and Bradley praises you for being suck a good filthy girl for him.

You quickly rinse off in the shower before helping him take one.

Once you're both clean, you snuggle up in bed together. You're content as you lay there with your head on Bradley's chest, drawing lazy shapes on his skin.

"Angel, can I ask you something?" Bradley breaks the silence.

"Hmm?" You hum back.

"Do you ever think about getting married?" Bradley feels you tense up in his arms.

You slip out of his grasp and sit up beside him.

"Married in general or married to you?" You ask him.

"Us getting married. I know we've only been together six months, but I've been thinking about it a lot." Bradley confesses.

"I've thought about it too. You, me, us in a house on the beach with a few kids running around. It's a beautiful thought. But—it's a pipe dream." You tell him. Bradley visibly deflates.

"What do you mean?" He's confused.

"Gods can't marry mortals. They can love them, have children with them, but not marry them." You say.

"Wh—why not? I don't understand." Bradley tells you.

"Marriage binds your souls together for eternity. That's how couples find each other in the Underworld. It's where the whole concept of soulmates comes from. Gods have immortal souls, and an immortal soul can't be bound to a mortal soul. We have different definitions for eternity. I'd marry you in a heartbeat if I could, Bradley." You admit with a tear in your eye.

"But—what about Hercules? He was a God and married a mortal." Bradley says.

"My nephew was a Demi-God. The best of both worlds. When Demi-Gods turn twenty-one, they can decide if they want to become immortal or human. He chose to be human for love." You explain to him.

You can see the hurt on Bradley's face.

"Bradley, Love, I may not be able to marry you, but I will love you for as long as you'll let me. We can live together, I can give you children if you want, I can manipulate my age so we can grow old together. And when we are old and grey, and you take your last breath, I can—well—I can make sure it's my last one, too. I can live a life with. I just can't be your wife." You let out a long sigh and search Bradley's eyes.

You can tell he is disappointed, but at the same time, you see the love he has for you. It hurts him that he can't make you his wife, but it doesn't mean he loves you any less.

"When it comes down to it, marriage is just a piece of paper, isn't it? As long as we love each other, the label doesn't matter. We can call it what we want." Bradley smiles as he pulls you closer to him.

You can feel the warm and love radiating off of him. It may not be perfect, but you wish you could stay in this moment with Bradley.

Because for the first time in your life, in this here and now with Bradley, you're enough.

It feels good to be enough

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