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malii-the-bonehead · 22 hours

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The Other Woman pt5

heres part 5.. i know it took a while but honestly ive been slacking due to the rafe story im writing. i need to get more chapters of this done so that i dont have to stress about it as much as i have been.

Anyways enjoy part 5<3

Slow burn

Summary: Chris, a popular hockey player at school where Y/n went, found himself falling for the beautiful, shy girl. As time went on he found out who Y/n truly was as a person and ultimately, he had to make the choice, his girlfriend, or the other woman.

Part 5

I’m sitting in the parking lot of the cafe. Honestly, I didn’t want to be here. When I got home from the store, I found mom sprawled out on the floor, bottle in hand and puke next to her. I ended up having to drag her to bed and cleaning her mess. I wish I had the money to send her to a rehab place. She needs to get clean. I thought about texting dad and asking him, but I decided against it. I don’t want help from him. I didn’t need his help anyways.

Other than that mess, everything was fine. I ended up having spare time so I went to my plugs house and got a gram from him. Not for now, but whenever I felt like smoking. I had to restock in case, you know?

I sat in my car for about 15 minutes before receiving a text from Chris.

You still coming? I checked the time. It was 5:34. I sent him a text back.

I’m waiting on you, silly. I’ve been here for 15 minutes already. I put my phone down on the seat next to me. I reached into the backseat of my car and grabbed my old calculus textbook from last year. My phone rang.

I got here at 5 lol. I’ve been waiting for you since then. I’m already inside by the window.

I quickly got out of my car. I didn’t know he was here. I rushed inside the small and homey feeling cafe. When I stepped into the building, the smell of apple pie and coffee filled my nose. I liked the smell of this place. I looked around, seeing Chris on his phone next to the window like he said he was. I walked over to him.

“I’m sorry you were waiting so long. I wish you told me you were already here,” I mumbled and sat down in the open seat across from him. He looked at me, placing his phone in his pocket. There were papers and two books scattered on the table, as well as a pastry, what looked to be a croissant. A chocolate croissant with a few bites taken out of it. I loved chocolate croissants..

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I didn’t know you were here either. We probably should have texted each other, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed.

“Yeah, that would have been a good idea,” I giggled. “So, let's see what you’re working on.” I placed my book down, next to all the papers and books along the table.

“Before we start, are you hungry? I’ll pay for it, just order what you want.” Chris smiled at me from across the table. I smiled back.

“No, no, I’ll pay for my food. Thank you though.” He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come on. It’s the least I can do for making you come all the way here just to help me study.” I shook my head.

“Fine, but only this once.” I gave him a stern face. I meant it. I didn’t want him paying for me. I’d probably feel bad later for making him pay for me today.

Chris asked me what I wanted.

“Hm, I think I’ll get a chocolate croissant as well. Yours looks really good. Also a hot coffee, add sugar and creamer.” He looked at me, taking in the things I asked for. He nodded his head standing up.

“Anything else?” He asked.

“No, thank you.”

“I’ll be back in a sec.” He turned around, walking to the counter to order my food and coffee. I looked at the papers on the table, trying to read the handwriting on each one. Chris didn’t have very readable handwriting…

After a few minutes of trying to figure out what the papers said, Chris came back. He placed my food and coffee down in front of me as well as a water bottle.

“One croissant, hot coffee, and water for the pretty lady,” He said before sitting back down in his chair. My face started to get warm.

“Thanks,” I mumbled and looked away towards the window.

“So, did you find out what all this shit means,” Chris grabbed a paper from the small stack in front of me.

“To be honest, I couldn’t read your notes. But I could read the typed questions.” He laughed a little.

“Yeah, my handwriting was never the best.”

“As long as you can read it, right?”

“Right,” he chuckled. He placed the paper in front of me and started pointing out the things he was struggling with. Time to get to work, I internally sighed.

–

Helping Chris wasn’t hard at all. He was a fast learner and quick to keep the information in his head.

Chris groaned and stretched his arms over his head. He leaned back slightly before speaking. “Man, I’m tired. I think we need a break. We’ve been doing this for an hour and a half and I think I got the concept down.”

“How about you do these last three problems,” I scribbled two easy equations and one hard one before sliding the paper in his direction. “Then, we can take a break.”

Chris did the first two problems easily. The last one took him longer than the others but he got the right answer in the end.

“You’re catching on really fast, Sturniolo.” He smiled at me, a big grin on his face.

“Thank you, Miss L/n.” I felt my cheeks turn pink from that. “You know, it seems like everytime I say something, your face turns pink.”

I felt my face get even pinker, probably red at this point.

“No it doesn’t,” I denied. I knew it did. But would I agree with him on that? No.

“Yes, I think it does. I see it all the time when I talk to you.”

I rolled my eyes.

Chris’s pov

My stomach hurts. It felt like someone was twisting my guts around. She made me so nervous and honestly, I don’t think she notices how she makes me feel. Everything she says makes my heart melt. When she calls me by my name, or even the nicknames she's given me. It makes me want to go feral. If I didn’t have any self control, and wasn’t raised right, then I probably would have. She makes me crazy and I hate it. But God, I love it so much. The feelings she makes me experience are unreal. So unreal to the point that I have to pinch myself sometimes to make sure it isn’t all a dream.

“When do you think we should wrap this up? Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed being here with you today, but don’t you have better things to do?” She looked at me with a dazed face. She looked so pretty.

I wish I could tell her. Just tell her everything.

“Yeah, you’re probably right about cleaning up. I’m not busy for the rest of the day, but it is getting late. You probably have some things to do, too.”

She looked out the window. “Actually, there is something I need to do.”

My face dropped. I didn’t want her to go yet. Not that I’d admit that to her.

“Well, thank you for the help, Y/n. I really appreciate it.” She noticed the look on my face.

“Hey, since you’re not busy, why don’t you come with me? I can drop you off at home after if you’d like,” she offered. My face lit up again.

“Really? Ah, that would be awesome,” I started to pack up my things, standing from my chair after her.

As we walked towards the door, I asked her, “Where is it you need to go?”

“First we’ll go to my car so u can put your things in it, then I need to go get a few books I’ve been dying to read. Luckily, the library is just across the street.” She almost skipped along the sidewalk to her car.

“That sounds perfect.”

–

We made it to her car. She unlocked the door for me and I placed my bag in the passenger seat. She ended up giving me her old calculus book so my bag was pretty much bursting at this point.

After we had finished up there, we started walking to the library. There was something soothing about being around her. Even if we didn’t talk, just her presence made me feel tingly inside.

We made it to the very large building, walking through the automatic doors in the front. I pretty much followed her like a lost puppy.

We had come to a stop in front of the romance section. She dragged her fingers along the spines of some of the books along the shelves. She grabbed one, a thick book with torn edges and yellowed pages.

“You really like the thickest books out there, don’t you,” I snickered behind her.

She turned around and looked at me, a smug smile on her face.

“Yes, maybe you should try reading one? You might learn something from these.” She giggled. I placed my hand on my heart, letting out a fake, pained sigh. She giggled again. “I’m only joking, Chris.”

She faced the shelves again, browsing a little before grabbing two more books. After that, we walked around some more. We went to the educational section, fiction, non-fiction, mystery, you name it. She seemed to have grabbed at least one book from every section.

We found ourselves in front of the poetry section.

“Do you need some help with those,” I questioned. She had a stack of at least 8 books in her hands, most of them thick and probably heavy.

“Please,” she sighed, handing me 4 of the 8. After, she looked around the poetry area when she noticed a book on the top shelf. She tried to reach up, failing to grab the thing that caught her eye.

I noticed her struggle and went behind her, reaching up and grabbing the book she had been reaching for. She turned around, looking up at me with a pink face.

“Your face is pink again,” I whispered. We were very close. So close that I almost felt her breath on my face. God, I want to kiss her so bad right now. This was the perfect chance, but I couldn’t. I have a girlfriend.

“Is it?” She whispered back. I felt my stomach start to flip, once again. It seems to do that a lot these days.

“Very,” I replied. Time seemed to move slowly, not that I minded.

She stayed looking at me.

If you keep looking at me like that I might go insane, I thought. Her phone began to ring. I pulled myself from her eyes, stepping back from her and handing her the big, brown poetry book. She took it, also grabbing her phone from her back pocket. She turned it off, picking her phone back up in the safety of her jeans.

“Who was that?”

“My mom,” she replied. “We should probably get going now.” She walked past me, speedily walking to the front of the library to check out the books. I hope I didn’t freak her out or anything. I really hope I didn’t.

Y/n’s pov

Mom texted me a few times after I declined her call. She had asked where I was and when I was going to be home. I shut off my phone, placing it in my lap. The stack of books in the backseat of my car were almost to the top of the seat. Chris had helped me carry them to my car.

Now, I was driving him home. He sat awkwardly in the passenger seat. I noticed he had fiddled his thumbs a few times. Something people do when they’re nervous.

“You okay?” I questioned him. I kept my gaze on the road ahead of me.

“Yeah, I’m fine.'' I glanced at him briefly.

“Okay.. If I did something to upset you, you’d tell me right?”

“You didn’t do anything, Y/n. I guess I’m just upset our little adventure is coming to an end.”

I giggled at his statement.

“Come on, silly. Don’t be upset over spilled milk. We can hang out another day if you want. I just need to get home to my mother. I need to make sure she’s doing alright. I hope you understand.”

He nodded his head knowingly towards me. We ended up not talking the rest of the ride to his house. The music playing from my speakers was barely noticeable, but it left a good atmosphere between us.

Chris had told me every turn to take until it was the final one into his driveway. Chris had a nice, big house. One that his parents must have worked very hard for.

“Thank you for today, Y/n. I had fun.” He looked at me before grabbing his bag off the passenger floor.

“Me too, Chris. Me too.”

He opened the door and before shutting it, he said, “Text me when you get home so I know you made it safe. And be careful, it’s late.”

It was now 9. We spent the whole evening together. A few hours at the cafe and library and about an hour drive to his house.

“I will, have a good night, Chris.”

He smiled at me and shut the door. I waited for him to get to his front door before beginning to pull out of his driveway. Before I could though, I noticed him wave goodbye to me. I waved back, then headed home for the night.

–

When I got home, mom wasn’t there. She was probably at the bar again. I sighed and went to my room. I grabbed some clothes and went to my bathroom, getting ready for my shower. I picked up my phone off my bedside table and opened Chris’s messages. I sent him a quick text.

I’m home and I made it safely. Not even 10 seconds later, I heard my phone ding.

Thank God. I was starting to think you got kidnapped or something. I smiled at his message. I walked into the bathroom once again, running the shower on warm water. That would have sucked, wouldn't it?

100%. Then who would I talk to in 3rd hour? Me, myself, and I? I don’t think so.

I put my phone down on the counter by my sink. I stripped out of my clothes before picking it back up.

If I were you I’d love to talk to myself lol. I waited for a text back for a few minutes, but not one came. I’m going to take a shower. I’ll text you when I’m out.

I shut off my phone and stepped into the warm water. I needed this shower so bad. Today was very, very long.

When I finished showering, I put on my clothes and grabbed my phone. I went to my bed, getting under the covers and shutting off my light. I checked my messages. He still hadn’t responded.

It’s nothing, Y/n. Don’t get attached. Don’t wait for his messages. And definitely don’t be upset when he doesn’t text back.

I wanted to send him another text message, but I didn’t want to seem desperate. I ended up sending him another one anyway. A simple, Goodnight, Chris. Don’t let the bed bugs bite. I internally cringed. Why did I send that?

I shut off my phone and flipped over onto my side. It was time to get some rest. I had work tomorrow and it was already 10. I shut my eyes but when I did, the memory of Chris leaning over me at the library replayed in my head. I thought about what could have happened if my mom hadn’t called me at that moment. What that would have led to. I ended up falling asleep thinking about that.

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winterspiderpurrs · 2 days

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It's routine by now. Saturday mornings, Peter would return to his apartment, and if Sam and Bucky were in town, they would be there. Sam would be just getting up to go for his early morning run. Bucky would still be in bed sleeping. Once Sam was back from his run, Peter would be in bed, taking what he called a power nap.

Sam would shower, and by the time he got out and redressed, Bucky would be out on the fire escape smoking. Peter would be at the stove starting the massive breakfast. His hair stood up in all directions. Then Bucky and Sam would start assisting with breakfast.

Then, 20 minutes later, they would all gather on the futon couch, turn on the tv, and eat together. Making some casual conversation, how the last patrol or mission went. Plans for the weekend, etc.

The thing is, there is a lot unsaid. They just stumbled into this relationship. First, it was just random check-ins. Then dates that weren't dates. Peter wasn't sure if Bucky and Sam were together, especially since he had slept with both on different occasions.

Bucky and Sam were in an open relationship, but neither knew they were both seeing Peter til Sam showed back up after leave from D.C. to find Bucky at Peter's place. Sam normally stays with Bucky when he is back in the city.

Bucky stayed at Peter's more often than not. He didn't like staying at 'Steve's' even though it's been Bucky's for the past several years. Between missions and staying in D.C. and Peter's he doesn't spend much time there. Which causes the conversation to take a turn one day.

" Your lease is up in a couple of months, right Doll?"

Peter nods.

" Yeah, at the end of August, I will have to renew."

" Thinking about selling the place in Brooklyn and moving"

Sam and Peter turn to look at Bucky, who took another bite of his toast, trying to act nonchalant about what he just said.

"Oh? Well... I mean. You're here a lot. You could... ya both could just... stay here, then? It's no problem."

Now Bucky and Sam look at each other before Sam clears his throat and speaks.

" Well, Buck and I have been talking about getting bigger place on the edge of both Brooklyn and Queens. Actually, I found a nice duplex that would be perfect."

Peter looks down at his plate, pushing the eggs around.

"Oh... sure. I mean , that sounds great. I can help ya move. "

" You're coming with us, Doll,"

" What this ass means. We buy the place, and once your lease is up. You move in. With us. "

" Its master bedrooms will fit one of those king-size beds too. Got two guest rooms. Study. Even got a backyard."

Peter blinks and looks between Sam and Bucky before a big smile spreads across his face.

" That sounds amazing!"

And they spent their morning, finishing up their breakfast before they decided to put on a movie in the bedroom. Peter needed to rest more and the perfect way was cuddling up in bed with Sam and Bucky.

Peter fell asleep 20 minutes in, Sam was sitting up and reading a book, Bucky was holding a sleeping Peter who was laying on top of him on this full-size mattress.

It was just a normal Saturday at a small apartment in Queens.

**************************

It's a little short and simple, but I still hope you like it @varayu-likes-marvel !

#writing prompts #winterspiderfalcon

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artisanalpeanutbutter · 5 months

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I'm so glad my friends are (mostly) not book lovers bc holy shit I hate she who became the sun so much and if I was surrounded by people who love it I would not be able to talk to them until they got over the hype. I only liked abt half of it and I would explain my feelings but I don't feel like doing that rn.

Tldr though: I didn't think it was feminist at all and going in thinking it was a feminist piece of literature made it a bad read for me. I liked how the author explored another gender class through the eunuchs though. Should've contested the other main character's misogyny & toxic masculinity (maybe that's not the right term here but idgaf this is just a tumblr post) though (can't remember their name bc i read it so long ago. The monk)

#same with iron widow and this is how you whatever the time war #so disappointed #they were hyped up so much but were riddled with issues #i liked all the other books i read last year though!!!#couldnt finish mexican gothic though bc i think it just wasnt the right vibe. i want to give it another shot though bc i usually love the #genre :3 #it wasnt bad i just wasnt in the right mood at ALL #OH also i think the bladerunner movie is leagues better than do androids dream of electric sheep but the book was still a good read yk?#i think there were additional elements in the book that just weren't tied together well enough #and didnt pay off well enough #like the religion payoff felt bizarre relative to the rest of the contents of the book. didnt feel fleshed oht enough #but perhaps that was the point and it just didnt click with me #no hate to the ppl who liked these books btw #oh i forgot about babel entirely. picked it up bc i was told it was like. decolonial magic and language but it sooooooooo wasnt. maybe im #just stupid or expecting too much idfk

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aroaessidhe · 5 days

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2024 reads / storygraph

The Sword of Kaigen

standalone fantasy set in a rural mountain village at the edge of an empire that still holds traditional values, with families of powerful water/ice magic warriors

follows a powerful young heir who begins to question his beliefs about the empire when a new boy comes to his village from the city

and his mother, a housewife who has tried to forget her youth as a warrior and vigilante in the city since she moved back home to a loveless marriage

when there’s a violent attack on their village that they’re unprepared for, everything changes, and she has to embrace her old skills to protect her family and people

#The Sword of Kaigen #aroaessidhe 2024 reads #I’ve been meaning to read this for years and I finally got around to it! a really unique fantasy novel #I had always assumed this was ur average pre-industrial high fantasy and then was immediately hit with video games/tv in the first chapter #lmao. But overall (aside from the broader worldbuilding/politics) it is closer to the average ‘historical’ fantasy narrative -#so I can see why I got that impression #Some really compelling characters and interesting narrative structure that went in some unexpected directions.#It really focuses in on one village and how devastating a single battle in a war can be to their people - and how much work the recovery is #I feel like most sff is more concerned with a single person and/or the whole war so this felt unique. did also mean that the pacing was odd #- it's a slow start; then there’s a battle that must be hundreds of pages. The last section of the book feels a little too drawn out #and brings up random hanging plot elements that don’t really go anywhere. But I think overall this works for the story.#also one thing I didn’t love - cool complex interesting female character MC sure but also there’s weird moments like:#the first scene we see her is all the housewives comparing their attractiveness; she keeps referring to herself as an old woman (when she’s #and oh so meek and useless etc. And some of this feels like it’s part of the broader portrayal of the misogynist society #but some of it felt clunky or unintentional?#And then especially the end - when she and her shitty husband finally confront each other as equals and he apologises #she basically immediately forgives him and is like oh I was equally at fault because I am a meek woman who didn’t try either #like him realising he was wrong (and her realising he had a reason for being the way he was) doesn’t negate the fact that he treated her li #she acts like it was her fault for not trying too - when we have numerous examples of him berating her if she spoke up about anything?#like im glad he’s learning. but also that doesn’t mean she needs to suddenly forgive and love him wtf #that's the only real thing that annoyed me though.#also btw that 5yo seems kinda fucked up. are you guys gonna do anything about that

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deus-ex-mona · 9 months

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dealing with assigned reading like

#[slams sop/risk assessment s h u t]#throwback to lit class from a g e s ago though… my year happened to be the last year that was assigned this book about two rivals to besties #but the assigned reading for lit from the literal ✨n e x t✨ year on was p e rc.y jac k son and i was l i k e (ʘ‿ʘ)#it wasn’t fair at all s o b s pj was my claim to temporary fame in school <-was that moron whom everyone borrowed the entire series from lol #i should reread that series soon… <-in the middle of reading/rereading many other series concurrently #i should be sleeping thoughhhhh. it’s like 3 in the am and i gotta get up in 3 hours for workkkk.#b u t i forgot how to fall asleep. sadge. so im just stuck watching puzzle/cube solving vids instead ig #to think that i used to be able to fall asleep standing up smh… how the ‘mighty’ have fallen #it is suiyoubi my dudes

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voulezloux · 18 days

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#idk how to tag this but it’s about my dad who i just went NC with bc he’s abusive and hasn’t changed #so if you don’t want to read keep scrolling i don’t care i just need to fucking do something #i’ve passed rage and now i’m just sad #and i feel bad about being sad bc i don’t want to be sad bc being sad SUCKS #i feel like i’m burdening my friends by telling them the shit my dad did to me #ik realistically im probably not but i just #only three people would truly understand the situation #my mom my sister and my childhood best friend #my sister is off limits bc i’m not putting her in the middle of this again #my mom was also abused by my dad and i don’t want to trigger her or make her feel bad so i don’t feel like #i can always go to her about this shit #and i don’t want to take advantage of my best friend’s listening ear even though she is being supportive of me and everything #like i just feel guilty and i feel like im burdening others with my burden #i want it to all stop i just want to stop being sad #i want to stop feeling like im 7 year old me hiding in the pantry from my dad #i don’t want to go to work i don’t want to do anything really #and it’s not like i want to die i just want to stop feeling like this #i want to stop feeling like i somehow fucked everything up when it was my dad’s fault #ik i should book another therapy appointment but i can’t with the way my week is next week #and idk i’m just #im not having a good time #i’ve taken an ativan every night this week bc of all this #previous to this idk when the last time i took an ativan even was #and i’m not trying to read into it too much but its hard not to when ive gone literal months without taking it #and now i’m taking it every night so i don’t stay up half the night bc my brain won’t shut up

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rubberbandballqueen · 2 months

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favorite part of work today was when i told the kids to get into two lines, n this one guy was like "i don't want to" n then started talking to his buddy in mandarin, n so then in chinese i was like, "hey, come here."

n he n his buddy looked at each other n then looked at me with like that faintly displeased expression that means they've realized they can't get away with not being that good at english (or feel terribly isolated from n indifferent to the adults bc they don't speak their language) anymore

and then when i told them to line up in mandarin they groaned abt it for sure but they did drag themselves into a line

#i walked in n this one kid handed me a book to read like a big hardcover graphic novel type thing n said i could look through it #so for kicks i started reading it out loud with all the silly voices n sound effects n blocking #and so then obviously the other children started to swarm me and god. kids have so much body heat #n you can feel it bc they have no personal space qwq #n anyway so i led them all to a different corner of the room and ended up reading 15 out of the 16 chapters of the book #out loud to a big chunk of the kids for like an hour w/a 5 min break halfway through for water #and when i came back the kids were organizing the chairs themselves into a semicircle to give me enough space to perform #i was sweating more than i have in Quite A While by the end bc again. children are So Warm n also being dramatic takes energy #the same kid who handed me the book today last year handed me some pokemon cards n i ended up spending all of spring camp #drawing pokemon from cards as references for kids to color n stuff bc i didn't want to go to the computer n print out coloring pages #so! i should probably stop spoiling/“yes and--”ing kids at work w/my nonsense but it gives them smth memorable at least #but also i am so fucking tired today lol i had to leave class as soon as it was done dash home to drop off my jacket n backpack #i didn't even have time to take off my shoes before entering the house so I Did An Unforgivable Sin (walked around w/shoes on)#n then put on my work jacket n dash out the door again to go to my 5.75 hr work shift o(--(#i don't regret it!! i did tell my boss i was free for afternoon camp shifts specifically bc i wanted these shifts even tho timing'd be tigh #successfully taught a kid to tie his shoelaces today though!!!!! what's w/kids n always using the very tips of their laces to mimic you tho #when you are very clearly handling the parts of the laces right next to your foot. it did click for him tho eventually #the worm speaks

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oh2e · 1 year

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The way we see flashbacks of what Button House was through the years reminds me of the Drumshee books. I’m not sure how popular they were outside Ireland but the general idea was a series of unconnected stories all about the same plot of land. The first one was called Nuala and Her Secret Wolf set in the Iron Age and the last one is called millennium@drumshee and is set in 2000. I know I’ve seen the Titanic one all over the place but the others not so much. It’s just such an interesting concept because while the characters are sometimes related distantly the important thing is their connection no matter how brief, to the land that is Drumshee or Button House.

#I think those are the first and last ones anyway. or at least they were the oldest and most recent of the ones I read #but it has been many years and I borrowed them all from the library so it mainly depended on what ones they had at the time #I’d say they were all published in the mid to late nineties? they’re definitely not new #Cora Harrison the author has done some other really good books since #there was two book series about Drumshee but the other one focused on the same characters at one specific time in drumshee’s history and I #didn’t like those ones though annoying they’re the ones I own #bbc ghosts #anywya just thinking about the flashbacks of button house/higham house/bone manor #and how so much changed but yet it ties them all together #my own post

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smalltownfae · 10 months

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Now I can sort of see what that person meant by The Remains of the Day and An Artist of the Floating World being similar. So far, I am still feeling 4 stars for this book but I am only halfway through.

I did fear I wasn't going to love it as much as everyone else. Also, I can see why so many people love this book and don't like other Ishiguro's works because it does have a different feel to it. It made me laugh too which I don't think it ever happened for me with an Ishiguro work. But, Stevens and the setting are quite different from what I am used to when it comes to Ishiguro. I do hope to love this book by the end, but it is also alright if it stays a 4 stars. It is still pretty good if not a favourite.

#andy reads the remains of the day #so far I prefer klara and the sun and an artist of the floating world...#an artist is a weird one though because I liked it more months after I finished it #I still think about it and I read it last year I think...#the person said that this book perfected the themes and character work done in artist of the floating world so I guess I will see #but honestly just the art part and the artistic struggle connected to politics is enough to make me like the other book more #but also I really like how stevens worshipped his father and the value he puts on being a butler #this has a downton abbey vibe too haha #it's very english I guess #which is also something that makes it very different from all ishiguro works I read #I guess klara and the sun was the closest in setting and given the uk vs us feel #with french mentions XD

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cj-kenobi · 1 year

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i just finished a book series for the first time in. a long time. I've been keeping up with it since i was like 13. what the Fuck do i do now how do i recover from this event what do i do with my life

#i havent read a new book in ???? probably years ???#amazing what getting out of the school system does to you #but now???????? how do I live with the fact there will never be any more of that universe other than just. cry #ive been reading these as they came out for so so so many years #and i put off reading the last one for maybe 3 / 4 years but now ive Done It #ans the author has a new series and its very good but its not the same at all #and yeah i could read fic but i dont feel like i want anything different or expanded on really #and also theres like 50 fics total its a surprisingly small fandom considering the absolutely tectonic impact the books had on me #im so ;-; rn #like unbelievably;-;#if youre this deep in the tags though i love u and u look good today #also you should totally read the long way to a small angry planet by becky chambers #and all the other books in the wayfarers series #theres only 4 and theyre all Stunning i promise #honestly the best sci fi I've ever read I'd say #books #wayfarers

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jovalencia · 1 year

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not to be dramatic but I literally feel like I’m going insane lol

#first of all I must acknowledge the percy of it all. I don’t know how many of you are reading those posts and honestly I’m not conveying #how I feel very well but I’m so deadly serious when I say I feel sick when I think about those books and not even in a bad way necessarily #just nauseous whatever. second most pressing issue is the whole “am I going to drop out transfer suck it up or kill myself”#okay I’m really not considering that last one I have to live to see dani in july but I haven’t the slightest clue what I’m gonna do next #year. on one hand I hope this school explodes on the other transferring sounds so unfun but back to the first hand I hate this city #and I hope it explodes to and I have nobody I know to live with off campus next year and tbh I would rather die than live w sarah suitemate #which brings us to sarah suitemate. how in the hell is my only friend in this god forsaken city like kind of subtly homophobic #In addition to kind of being a bad fucking person. like lol! yes ladies six months deep with no other friends and I Am that desperate #also it’s the very beginning of the quarter and I kind of hate all my classes. okay I know they just started and it’s very early to judge #but I already feel like I’m going crazy I preferred my other two quarters where I was eating literally 12 credits I was satisfied with that #I’m just scared and lonely can I say that outright is it embarrassing to admit that outright at 11am on tumblr #the only thing that gives me comfort genuinely is just repeating that “everything works out in the end” saying bc I really do believe that #even though I hope my closest friend within a reasonable radius of me drops dead and I’m directionless and I want to kill myself #whenever I think about the book I’m reading it will all be okay #anyways time to eat the pastry I got from the campus market is not a good time to tell you guys I didn’t eat breakfast or could you tell #carmen.txt

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senadimell · 1 year

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Okay, someone brought up Alice in Wonderland and Coraline as books of the same genre which is kind of blowing my mind.

#haven't thought it out yet or formulated the thoughts but they're right #i just don't quite know how this fits my schema of weird little girl books yet #unfortunately i quite detested alice last time i read and was wholeheartedly inside coraline's head last time i read #coraline was a very relatable protagonist and alice was kind of annoying #(i mean part of it is because i never liked alice whereas coraline lived rent free in my head for years #and also i liked coraline-the-character whereas i couldn't stand alice #though that might come from the fact that i read coraline in like second grade and AiW in probably sixth grade or later)#(the other part of it is that coraline is actually cool and alice cries a lot and all of my mental daydream characters #were super cool aloof awesome characters who never cried #unlike yours truly who was neither cool nor aloof)

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neil-gaiman · 7 days

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This isn’t a question, but I want to thank you for your books and how they’ve impacted my life.

Over thirteen years ago, I read Neverwhere for the first time and it changed what kind of writer I wanted to be. I went on to read more of your books—my other two favourites were The Graveyard Book and The Ocean at the End of the Lane.

About 11 or so years ago, I asked you on Twitter if I could read Stardust on a Twitch livestream, and you responded, “Fine by me”. It was one of my best streams, and while life got in the way of me doing more, I still remember it incredibly fondly.

Ten years ago I had a baby, and while he was an infant, I read him, Fortunately, the Milk, in an attempt to read him a book. He didn’t seem interested. I decided I’d try again some other time perhaps. But I did resolve to get him to read The Graveyard Book someday.

Nine years ago, when I was a mother of a one-year-old, I posted a status on Facebook simply saying, “We do not forget.”

Two years ago, I went on holiday, and I downloaded the audio book version of The Graveyard Book from our local library. My eight-year-old son listened to it as he fell asleep, though he ended up missing some parts, and we shelved it.

Last year, he read Coraline and didn’t like it. That isn’t your fault. He read Charlotte’s Web and didn’t like that either. He just didn’t quite have the understanding for them.

This year, he read Coraline and liked it. I told him it was from the same author as The Graveyard Book. He lamented that he never finished The Graveyard Book, and I said he could always download it from the library again.

Then about a month ago, he and I went through a tough time. I was really stressed about life, he wasn’t doing so well either, and our relationship got strained. I was angry with him all the time. I needed a break from him, or I thought I did. But one day when he was at his dad’s I realised that I wouldn’t get this time back. That I needed to fix it. So I asked him if he wanted me to read to him at bedtime. Just like when he was little. And we settled on The Graveyard Book.

On nights when he got to bed on time, I’d read a chapter. It often meant stretching past bedtime, but I could never stop halfway. It had been years since I’d read it too, and I found myself remembering things I’d forgotten. I’d watch his dark eyes widen whenever things got exciting, and I loved when he would interrupt me with an important revelation. “It’s Scarlett! His friend!” he’d say. “The dog! The grey dog!” “I know what Silas is!” He would tell me that I did the voices so well, that it seemed to match each character so perfectly.

We didn’t read every night, but it was a treat when we did. One night we had an argument and he told me he hated me. That he wished I was dead. And that he wanted to be with his dad. I told him to go take a shower, and that I’d ask his dad to come get him. His dad said no, but agreed to talk to him on the phone. After the shower, my son apologised for what he said. I said okay, and told him to call his dad to chat. After their call, he asked if we would still have story time. I asked if he preferred that or to have some space. He said he wanted both, but wanted story time more than space. So I read to him. It was the chapter when Bod and Silas argued, and then apologised to each other. Halfway through that chapter, my son asked for snuggles. I said, what happened to space? And he said, “I want snuggles more than space.”

We were sad when it ended. We finished it last weekend. I cried as I read it. But it was a beautiful sadness. We’ve talked about it a bit since then, to process it. He says he would like to read more about Silas and Bod’s adventures and asked if there was fan fiction about it. I told him to look, and to write some if there wasn’t. Perhaps I’ll write some too, just for him.

Last night he was at his dad’s and I was browsing Facebook and sent him a couple of his old pictures. Then I found an old post. From exactly nine years ago. And so I sent it to him.

It brought tears to my eyes. I did not remember making that post, and I’ve forgotten a great deal over the years, but I hope I do not forget these little moments with my son. But even if I do, I have them written down here to remind me again.

And thank you. For the words you’ve written and the impact you’ve had on our lives and hearts. I hope that your life holds the same amount of joy and love that you’ve given to others with your words.

That made me so happy. Thank you. I hope you and your son keep growing together.

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soaps-mohawk · 4 months

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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 3 - Speak Their Language

Summary: You get something to aid you in your attempts to bond with your pack. Unfortunately, your ideas have consequences for everyone.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Warnings: Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, some brief violent imagery but nothing worse than what's in the game, lots of military inaccuracies

Author's Note: Did you know there’s Scottish translators online? I do now lmaooo. Those military inaccuracies are really coming through in this one so...if you’re here for accuracy...I am so sorry. This one's a bit shorter, more of a filler for the next one but there's some important stuff that happens that you'll need for the next chapter. Also a lot of good ole easter eggs and references in this one. If you can find them all, I’ll give you a cookie.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

You perk up when a knock sounds at your door. You hop off your bed, eagerly swinging the door open. Price is standing there, a package in his hands. The corner of his mouth twitches as you smile, almost bouncing on your toes in excitement.

“Kate said you’d be expecting this.” He says, amusement shining in his eyes.

You nod, holding out your hands. “Yes, sir!”

You take the package, holding it against your chest. You had sworn Kate to secrecy about what was in it, after a long explanation of why you needed it and why you were asking her for it and not Price. She said she threw in a few other things, things you didn’t realize you’d miss once you moved to the UK. You knew she likely did that so she wouldn’t have to lie to Price when he asked.

“Don’t have too much fun.” He says, giving you a smile.

“I’ll try not to.” You grin. “Thank you, sir!”

You close the door, not bothering to lock it as you bound back to your bed. You open the package, digging through the snacks to the bottom of the box. You move the box to the floor, holding the book in your lap. You run your hand over the cover, excitement thrumming through you.

“The Powerful Omega.”

You’ve spent the last few days running through what you remembered from the book the last time you read it almost four years ago. There wasn’t much, only a few things sticking with you. Things you thought would be helpful.

You curl up on your bed as the others head out for the afternoon, the familiar sound of boots disappearing down the hallway fading into the background as you dig into the book. You’re determined to find some way to get Ghost to at least be tolerant of your presence. You don’t need him to want you, you don’t even need him to like you. You just know the entire process will be easier if he’s at least accepting of the fact you’re going to be part of the pack, whether either of you like it or not.

That was long before you knew you’d be placed in a military pack, though.

He’s a big, tough, military alpha who doesn’t like to show his face. There has to be something in the book that might help you, or at least give you ideas on what to try. You know the best you can do with Ghost is try. He’s an enigma on purpose, and it seems like he’s going to stay that way, regardless of how close you try and get to him.

You could use Soap to get close to him. Ghost’s protective aura practically envelopes Soap whenever they’re in close proximity, laying a claim without even having to touch one another. You know getting close to Soap could force Ghost to get comfortable with you, or it might make him more territorial.

But that scene at breakfast a few days ago, when he’d gotten defensive over that soldier staring in your direction.

You let out an exasperated sigh, opening the book. “Alphas are so infuriating for literally no reason.” You murmur to yourself.

You read until another knock sounds at the door, signaling lunch. You use your note pages as a bookmark, stuffing the book into the back of your underwear drawer before opening the door.

“Hungry, pup?” Price greets you as he usually does when he’s escorting you to a meal.

You nod, stepping out and closing the door behind you. “Always, sir.”

Like most omegas, you have a healthy appetite. It always gets bigger close to your heat, and you never quite feel satisfied and full during that time. You wonder how you’re going to manage on a military base with such a rigid schedule. There’s always snacks in the rec room, but you’re going to need a lot more than chips and protein drinks to keep you happy when the time comes.

You follow Price to the mess, his arm brushing yours as you walk. You’ve noticed them getting closer to you over the past few days, at least in the literal sense. It started with Soap and Gaz. They walk closer to you, sit closer to you. When you join them in the evenings in the rec room they’ve started putting you between them. Price has now started getting closer, walking closer to you, standing closer to you, often looming behind you like a shadow.

Ghost is the only one who hasn’t changed much, still regarding you with disinterest and speaking shortly to you when you’re forced to interact.

“Don’t worry about ‘im lass. He'll warm up tae ye.” Soap had reassured you after a rather cold shoulder from Ghost.

You’re not entirely sure that’s possible. You’re determined to at least try to get on amicable terms with him, and you’re hopeful the book will help with that. Even if he’s nothing more than just another alpha in your pack, if you can get him to stop being so icy around you, perhaps you’ll be able to settle in better.

And maybe you’ll be able to fix your lack of instincts.

Dr. Keller said there was nothing wrong with your lack of instincts at this point in the transition, but everything you had learned at The Institute goes against what she said. You’re an omega. Your job is to be obedient, to serve your pack, and follow your alpha’s commands. Good omegas do what’s asked of them without question, putting their trust in their alpha. No one knows what’s best for you like your alpha.

Your alpha hasn’t asked much of anything of you.

You don’t know how to feel about that.

“I’m startin’ tae think that sandwich insulted ye, lass.”

Soap’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You have been sitting and staring at your sandwich for a while, lost in your thoughts. It’s not a terrible sandwich by any means, certainly better than the ones you got at The Institute.

They’re all staring at you, four pairs of eyes watching you. You’ve barely touched your plate, and you hardly remember going through the line.

You shake your head, picking up your fork to poke at whatever mushy vegetable Price had added to your tray. “No, it’s fine. I was just lost in thought.”

“‘Bout what?” Soap asks, taking a bite of his own sandwich.

You shrug. “Just something Dr. Keller said.”

“Ah, omega secrets then.” Soap grins. “I’ve heard rumors that omegas know the true meaning of the universe.”

“Yeah, it’s 42.” You say, earning a chuckle from Price.

If you hadn’t been looking, you wouldn’t have noticed the shift in Ghost’s shoulders, the slight softening of his gaze for a moment as he stares at his own sandwich.

He's laughing at you again.

He’s an enigma, a confusing presence in your life. You have no choice but to have him in your life, just as he has no choice but to have you in his life.

You finish your food quickly, wanting to get back to the book. You’ve already got some ideas floating around from it, things that might help you ease into their world a bit more.

Gaz walks you back to the barracks after lunch, the area between the two buildings more crowded than usual. You both slow a bit as a whistle sounds through the air, your head turning as a rather crude comment reaches your ears.

“Ignore them.” Gaz says, putting a hand on your back. “Bunch of cocksure alphas. They’re always rowdy after the weekend. They go out, surround themselves with omega barrack bunnies, make themselves feel important.”

“Have you...been with a barrack bunny?” You ask hesitantly, mostly out of curiosity. You know they likely have. They've had their entire lives they've been able to dictate for themselves.

“Not since joining the team.” He answers honestly. “None of us have. We don’t usually have the time, or the need. We have each other now.”

And now they have you.

“Do they, the other soldiers...do they know why I’m here?” You find yourself asking as you enter the barracks.

“Not specifically.” Gaz says. “Most of what we do is classified, even to them. I think some of them have begun to put two and two together. And before too long, they’ll be able to figure it out.” He says, giving you a look as you stop in front of your door.

“Yeah...” You say softly, your stomach churning nervously at the thought of your approaching heat. There’s still quite a bit of time before then, but you don’t feel ready. You don’t feel ready to spend a heat with an alpha, you don’t feel ready to be claimed.

“Don’t worry too much.” He says, pressing his finger between your brows like he might be able to smooth out the frown that’s formed between them. “Price will take good care of you. Besides, we’ve got plenty of time to work out the kinks.” He chucks you under the chin gently before he leans down, pressing a kiss to your rapidly warming cheek. “I’ll see you later, yeah?”

You still feel a bit like you’re floating as you close your door behind you. Your face is warm, not just from the forwardness of Gaz’s actions but also his words. You let out a quiet sound as you fan your face, trying desperately not to think about how soft his lips are, how easily he had ignited a fire within you with some words and a simple touch.

Gaz is trouble, you think as you pull out the book again, settling down at your desk to read.

You open the book, starting at the next section.

Bonding With Your Pack.

This is what you need, ideas on how to do exactly that. Even though you’re already beginning to feel close to Soap and Gaz, you still feel as if there’s a chasm keeping you from Price, and an ocean between you and Ghost. You just need something, anything that will start building that rope bridge and maybe a boat.

Learn To Speak Their Language.

You pause at the chapter title, pulling out the notebook you’ve been taking notes in.

“As much as we want to think it can be, not everything can be about us all the time. Just like in any relationship, we have to put effort into others as well. If you find yourself struggling to connect with your alpha, the first step is to figure out something they’re interested in. Sports? Video Games? Food? Get to know your alpha, and make it a point to learn about something they’re interested in. Learn to speak their language.”

You read the passage thrice over, the realization dawning on you. You knew from the beginning that getting them to adapt to you was not going to be possible. You were going to have to adapt yourself to fit into their lives. Their lives of fighting and war and violence and guns.

An idea begins to form in your head as you brainstorm, scribbling page after page of notes. It’s not perfect, but you’re in no rush to perfect it. After all, you’ve got nothing but time.

You sit next to Soap at breakfast, close enough his arm is brushing yours. You wish you could see Ghost’s face, or, well, his eyes at least.

“So what do you guys do between breakfast and lunch?” You ask, all four of them pausing as they look at you. You continue to eat, pretending not to notice their looks. You know mornings are for their workouts before breakfast, but what they do between meals is almost entirely unknown to you. You assume it’s some sort of training, maybe meetings and briefings.

“Training, usually.” Price answers after a moment. “Running simulations, training courses, weapons training, hand-to-hand. Keeps our skills sharp. Today they’re running a routine course to make sure they’re not getting lazy in our time off.”

“Can I come?” You ask, their gazes snapping to you again. “To watch? I’m getting kind of bored sitting around.”

Price’s gaze burns into you as you meet it, not looking away despite the tickling at the back of your neck telling you to yield. Tough alphas like a challenge, the book said. Don’t back down, even when you want to.

“I don’t see why not.” He finally says, picking up his cup of coffee. “Give these muppets another reason to compete with each other.”

The table erupts in chaos as Gaz and Soap immediately start betting with each other. You can’t help but smile, used to their bickering and competitiveness after spending time with them doing literally anything together.

This is certainly going to be interesting, if nothing else.

“There’s two rules for you being here.” Price says as you walk with him down a line of hangars. “You do everything I say, and stick close to me. They’ll be using live rounds, and the last thing we need is you catching a stray bullet in some freak accident.”

“Sir, yes, sir!” You say, saluting him.

He stares down at you for a moment, amusement shining in his eyes. “Cute.” He leads you into the hangar, a sort of building made out of plywood set up inside. “Over here.” He leads you to where a sort of command center is set up.

There’s screens showing feeds from cameras set up inside the mock building, a timer and an intercom system set up. You look it over in amazement, Price coming to stand next to you.

“How does it work?” You ask.

“They enter there.” He points to what you assume represents the front door. “Work their way through both levels to clear the house.There’s targets in some rooms that pop up when certain pressure triggers are hit on the floor. Hit every target, clear the house, exit there,” He points at a spot on the side of the house in front of where you’re standing. “And reach that red line in 60 seconds.”

You blink in surprise. “How fast can they do it?”

“Gaz holds the record currently at 19 seconds, Ghost in second at 19.5, and Soap at 20.5.” He says.

“Wow.” You say under your breath, looking over the cameras again. “I’m not sure I could even think that fast.”

Price chuckles. “I wouldn’t expect you to be able to, sweetheart. We’ve had years and years of training and experience. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He says, heading back down the steps to where the others have gathered, wearing light gear.

It’s not the first time you’ve seen them all geared up, but the change is always palpable. Gone are the laid back betas and alpha, and instead they’ve shifted into battle-hardened soldiers. It’s almost mesmerizing how easily they can shift between the two.

And you can hardly handle your instincts getting a little twitchy.

Price joins you again, turning on the intercom system. “Alright Gaz, at my go sweep the house and clear the rooms.” You hold your breath as Price pauses, Gaz in place at the front door. “Go, go, go!” Price says, the timer starting as Gaz enters the house.

You watch on the cameras as he goes through the lower levels, jumping slightly as the first gunshots echo through the hangar. They’re louder than you had expected, even with the hangar doors opened partway. You feel a bit anxious as you watch the time and his progress, almost as if you’re watching an intense movie.

17...18...19...

Gaz slips through the side door, racing for the red line marking the end. You stare at the timer as Price hits the stop button. Twenty one seconds. You wonder how often they don’t meet their previous records, or if their break really is having that much of an effect on them. You hear Gaz curse quietly as he passes, heading back to stand by Soap as Ghost gets ready at the start.

The nervous anticipation doesn't lessen any as Ghost makes his way through the house, moving swiftly and silently as he always seemed to do. For such a large being he can move so quietly with an ease unlike you’ve ever seen.

You watch the timer as he crosses the red line. 21.9.

You catch a whiff of his scent as he passes, the hint of ozone burning your nose. He’s frustrated. They have to know they’re not performing as well as they know they can. Part of you wonders if it’s your fault they’re not even meeting their best times.

Soap is up last, moving with an ease and focus that you’re not entirely surprised he’s capable of. Though he tends to be the most lighthearted of the four, and the most unserious, he made it on the team for a reason.

Again you watch the timer, still held at rapt attention in the intensity of the moment as he crosses the red line. 25. He lets out a loud string of curses, most of which you don’t understand as he moves back to the start.

“Wait here.” Price says before descending back down the steps.

You’ve seen the change in him as well, a bit more subtle as he always seemed to be in the Captain mindset to some degree. You wonder if he’s ever not the Captain, if there’s a time where he gets to just be John Price. You wonder what he’s like when he doesn’t have the weight of his responsibility constantly on his shoulders. You wonder when the last time he got to let go like that was.

“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” You say as he joins you once more. You’re beginning to think maybe you made a mistake in asking to come along.

“Most likely.” He says, resetting the timer. “But that’s something we need to know. This is the new normal. They need to learn to work through it.”

Especially if it’s you they’re trying to get to.

You knew there was a risk. Just being associated with them puts you at risk. They’re hidden, anonymous, deeply classified for a reason. You’d gotten that briefing during your time training with the CIA, after Laswell had told you where you would be going. Just knowing their names, who they are, where their home base is, is enough to put you in danger. You were hidden just as much as they were now, your entire existence now hidden beneath layers of security clearance.

You could still be a target, if anyone found out. They might think you have information, details about their missions, about the things they do.

The likelihood of that happening was low, but never zero. There was still risk involved in being around them, a risk you were assigned to take. It was your duty, though, as an omega. Do what you’re told, go where you’re sent, follow your alpha without question.

Institutes really are like the military, you think. Only you’re fighting a different battle than they are.

You’re seated on the couch in your usual spot, curled up with a book. Your pack was having some downtime as Price had an emergency meeting he had to attend. Your heart had jumped a bit at the news, at the thought that they might be pulled away early. They weren’t supposed to get called off on a mission until after your next heat to allow for the adjustment and claiming, but if they were needed...they could be called away before then.

So you’d settled in with a book in the rec room to try and calm your nervous energy.

“Mind if I join ye?”

You look up as Soap enters the rec room, a smile on his face. “No, go ahead.” You offer a smile back.

He joins you on the couch, lifting your legs over his lap. You flush a bit at the bold move, but you were growing used to his boldness. “What are ye readin’?”

“‘Lord of the Flies.’” You say, holding up the cover.

“Did ye finish the other one already?” He asks in astonishment.

“I’ve already read two books since I got here.” You say, laughing a little.

“Och, yer a bright wee lamb, aren’t ye?” He chuckles. “Ye like tae read?”

You nod. “Yeah. It’s good for passing the time.”

He hums, grabbing the remote. “Ghost likes tae read too. Dinnae tell him I told ye that.” He holds up the remote. “Ye mind?”

You shake your head. “No, go ahead.”

He turns on the TV, keeping the volume low as he sits with you. His hand is warm where it rests on your calf, his thumb absentmindedly stroking circles over the fabric. You try to focus on the book but you can’t help the fluttering in your stomach at the proximity of the beta. You keep catching whiffs of his scent, and you’re beginning to feel an urge to ask him about Ghost. If anyone can give you answers, it’ll be Soap.

“Soap?” You ask, closing your book.

He hums, turning to look at you. You stare into those bright blue eyes, your heart fluttering a bit. His eyes are so warm and expressive, shining with something you can’t quite put a name to.

“Does Ghost...hate me?” You ask quietly, knowing with your luck as soon as you start the conversation, the man in question would appear out of nowhere.

Soap’s lips tug up into a smile, a quiet chuckle rumbling through his chest. “Nae, lass. He doesnae hate ye. Ghost is...” He makes a face, trying to find the right words. “Ghost is very guarded.”

He slips his arms around you, lifting you into his lap. You let out a quiet sound in surprise, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders out of instinct. His arms wrap around you, his tactical vest digging into your side a bit, but you’re too focused on the sudden proximity to really care.

“He's no an easy man tae get close tae.” He continues. “I know. Couldnae stand me when we first met. I broke him down, proved myself. We spent enough time together, and that bond just formed naturally.”

“He sees me as a threat.” You say, voicing the opinion you’ve been coming to over the last few days.

“I wouldnae say a threat.” Soap grins, his hand squeezing your side. “A wee yin like ye. He just needs time tae adjust. He's gonnae dae it in his own way.”

“I don’t even need him to really like me.” You say, tracing the Union Jack on the front of Soap’s vest. “I just need him to tolerate me.”

“This is him tolerating ye.” Soap deadpans.

You give him a look. “Well he’s got a funny way of showing it then.”

Soap chuckles, the sound vibrating through your body. “Nah, dinnae worry too much about him, hen.”

You hum, leaning your head on his shoulder. “You’re right. It’s Captain Price I need to worry about.”

“I dinnae think ye need tae worry too much there either.” Soap grins. “The Cap’n is head over heels for ye already.”

You give him a look of disbelief, eyebrows raising. “What?”

Soap nods. “Oh aye, I havenae seen him smile this much in all the time I’ve known him.”

You continue to stare in disbelief. You knew Price at least tolerated the idea of you becoming his omega. He’s been nothing but polite, cordial even with you. In the traditional sense he’s already begun courting you, providing and protecting. You still have yet to move beyond the polite tiptoeing, even with how things have been shifting the last few days.

You have the beta’s approval, which you know is an important step in pack formation.

You bite your lip, your fingers curling around the edge of his vest. “You really think he...”

“Mhm.” Soap nods. “Cannae blame him, pretty omega like ye strutting around the base.”

He’s getting closer to you. You can’t do anything but stay still as his face lowers towards yours. Your stomach is fluttering, but you can’t tell if it’s nerves or excitement. His hand slides down your side, following the curve of your hip before it settles on your thigh. He’s so warm, his scent amplified with your close proximity. You feel a bit dizzy, your head spinning a bit. You understand now how betas can still win over both alphas and omegas.

“We all feel lucky havin’ ye.” He says quietly, his breath fanning your face. His forehead presses against yours, so close to you your noses are brushing.

You wonder what Ghost would do if he walked in and saw you this close to his beta. Would your body fly through a window or a wall? Or would he tackle you, wrap his hands around your throat and squeeze until your head pops or your airway collapses? Or, was Soap right and he would do nothing?

Or would he like it?

The thought sends a shiver down your spine. Soap likes you, both of the betas in your new pack like you. It’s good, you know, having the approval of both betas, even though you don’t technically need both. Price could claim you with only his and Gaz’s approval, though it would be easier if all four approved.

You wonder if Ghosts supposed tolerance of you is because of Soap. The alpha is very protective of his beta, though you don’t doubt Soap would go to bat for you if he needed to.

He might have already.

Soap hasn’t moved, both of you frozen where you are. He wants to kiss you, you think, your brain pulling up all the movies you’ve seen in your life. You’re gripping onto him tightly, your stomach fluttering. You’re nervous, unsure of how to move next. Do you let him kiss you? You’ve only been kissed once before, but that was hardly more than a childish peck on the lips. He wants to kiss you like they do in the movies.

Will Soap be upset if you pull away? Will he force you back and take what he wants? There would be no stopping him. Even if the others were in the building, even if they heard you, would they come to your rescue? Or would they let it happen because it’s your purpose? What would Ghost do if he walked in and saw you? What would Price do? Would Price be upset that he wasn’t the first to kiss you?

You are his claim after all.

You slowly draw yourself back, removing your arm from around his shoulders as you turn slightly to face the TV. You hold your breath, not wanting to catch the souring of Soap’s scent, the tell that he was upset at your decision. You wait for his grip to tighten, for his body to force you back onto the couch. His hand moves from your thigh and you tense, waiting for the reprimanding to come, but instead he simply wraps his arms around your upper body again, holding you like he had been before.

Your heart is still thudding in your chest as you quietly watch the TV, the silence in the room thick but not uncomfortable. You lean your head back on his shoulder, letting yourself relax into him. The almondy scent of beta is thick in the air, likely his doing to diffuse the tension he must be able to feel.

“British TV is weird.” You say, trying to follow along with what’s going on, on the screen.

Soap laughs, squeezing his arms around you for a moment. “Aye, it really is.”

You continue to sit with him, letting his scent relax you. You’ve given up following what’s on the TV, his warmth and presence slowly lulling you until your eyes are drifting closed.

The scent permeates the air everywhere he goes.

Caramel. Vanilla. Strawberries.

No amount of scent blockers can keep it from seeping under his mask, permeating his senses. He’d spray the scent blocker up his nose if he thought it might work. You’re stinking up the base, his beta, his life. Even now he can smell it, the sweet cloud of your scent wafting through the halls.

He can pick up the sharp tang of anxiety on the edge of it, a low growl rumbling through his chest in response. It burns his nose and he hates it. His boots are quiet on the tile floor as he makes for the rec room, following the cocktail of scents. Your pungent sweetness layered over Johnny’s warm spice.

Images flash through his mind of what position he might find you both in. He can smell the musky undertones of Johnny’s desire in the air, a scent he’s very familiar with. He knows how much his beta wants the new omega that’s been forced on them. They don’t need an omega. He knows how much Price fought against it, but even the Captain has begun to fall under your intoxicating spell.

You don’t even know you’re doing it.

His hands curl into fists as he steps into the rec room. The TV is playing some daytime rerun, but his eyes are drawn to the couch. Johnny is fast asleep, his head leaning against yours. You’re asleep in his lap, hand under your cheek, resting against his chest. You’ll have imprints on your skin from your hand and his vest. Johnny’s arms are wrapped tight around you, looking more peaceful than he has in a while.

He’s already comfortable enough to sleep with you.

“MacTavish!” He snaps, startling both of you.

The only thing that keeps you from flailing to the floor is Johnny’s quick reflexes, his grip tightening around you to keep you on his lap. Johnny blinks the sleep from his eyes, squinting up at him for a moment.

“Let’s move.” He growls, turning and leaving the rec room.

He refuses to look at you in your sleepy haze, not quite as quick to wake as Johnny. He doesn’t want to watch the way Johnny eases you to your feet, how small you look leaning against him as you grumble sleepily. He doesn’t want to watch as Johnny guides you to your door, easing you into the safety of your room while they leave to do their jobs.

He hates the way he turns back to look as Johnny speaks quietly to you, those big, shiny puppy eyes staring up at him. He hates the churning in his stomach as you soften at Johnny’s kiss to your forehead, the way you watch Johnny walk down the hallway. Ghost opens the door for his beta, letting him out, but he can’t bring himself to move until he hears the click of the lock on your door sliding into place.

Taglist:

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#call of duty #call of duty fanfic #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #a/b/o #141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #poly 141 #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #x reader

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rebeccccccaaa · 2 months

Text

Too Sweet

______________

Spencer Reid x Reader

:: Practically at his beck and call, Spencer knows you’re too sweet for him. He knows he shouldn’t use you but he can’t stop himself when you’re also all too enthusiastic to fuck him ::

warnings :: smutttt, casual sex (kinda lol), oral (fem receiving), over stimulation, insomnia!spencer, spencer spitting facts (literally), reader is described to have hair length long enough to stick to your cheeks, obviously reader is described as afab, not sure what else i should tag so let me know what i miss :)

author’s notes :: hello, hello! honestly i saw this tik tok edit of spencer with this song (Too Sweet - Hozier) and felt a bit inspired by it and also loosely by lyrics too. please be kind as it’s been a couple years since i last wrote a fic and it’s my first one about dr reid too, so let me know if you guys like it, comment, reblog, all that jazz and critiques are more than welcome! Enjoy!

WC :: ~4k

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It was pretty late into the night, it was the first weekend in weeks that the team was able to really enjoy. Spencer sat in a corner of his apartment, a glass of whiskey sat on the table as he flipped the pages of a book he’s read a thousand times before, albeit it was one of favorites.

He was hesitant to call, he didn’t want to pull you away from enjoying your weekend but when it came to his pleasure, he put himself first. You were always too nice to say no to him and he knew that. It made him feel sleazy sometimes, but this was who he was now. Rugged, damaged, fucked up. He’d been through a lot. But in those moments where you squirmed and whined beneath him, he felt satiated. You were his drug now.

“Hello?” he mumbled when the call picked up.

“Spencer,” your voice was a whisper as you practically sang his name.

“You’re awake,” he said.

“Yes,” you responded.

“It’s a little late don’t you think?” he poked.

“Then why are you calling?”

You knew why he was calling. He only ever wanted one thing from you when the sky was dark. You didn’t mind it though. You basked in it. You kind of liked it. The feeling of having sex without commitment. Your job didn’t give you enough time for a commitment. You didn’t feel humiliated or belittled by Spencer’s desires. In fact, his lust for you turned you on in most cases. Most.

Spencer was still a good friend to you. Regardless of sleeping with him, he was your closest friend. And recently, you noticed changes in him. Maybe you’ve kept a closer eye on him more than before but you were a little concerned. You had the right after everything he’s been through. He seemed more tired than usual, even though he was still punctual with work. Although you didn’t sleep in his bed after every time you slept together, when you did, you pretended not to notice his exits and long absences in between the long hours of the night. You could barely hear his ever so quiet footsteps roaming the living room. The clanking of coffee mugs in the kitchen and his quiet ‘Shit’ when he thought he was being too loud.

Three subtle knocks rapped his door, so quiet Spencer would’ve missed if he had breathed just a bit louder. A grin spread across his face subconsciously, glancing at the clock before taking long strides to the door. It was almost midnight. You stood in the doorway with heavy eyes, not the drunk kind, but the tired kind. He moved aside to let you in. Just like last time; and all the other times you showed up at his door for him.

“I thought you went out tonight,” he questioned, rhetorically.

“I did. For a bit,” you told him, “I just had one drink, then went home.”

“What are you doing up so late?” you asked, you already know the answer. And Spencer knows you know too, though he tried at first to be more subtle in his nightly fixtures. He simply sighed with amusement. You set your things down on his couch, eyes adjusting to the dim lights that hardly lit the room. The glass sitting on the table in the corner caught your eyes though.

“What are you drinking?” you asked.

“Uh, whiskey. Neat.”

“Ew, why?” you joked.

“It’s not that bad,” he shrugged. A whiskey wouldn’t exactly be Spencer’s first choice of drink but then again his first choice of drink wouldn’t even be alcohol. If it was, he would probably be content with a beer, or something of the sort. He was sort of going through a phase during nights. He was sleeping a lot less too.

“I just didn’t take you for a whiskey kind of guy,” you teased.

“What kind of guy did you take me for?” he poked; he wasn’t really talking about drinks anymore though.

“Water,” you joked, making him laugh.

Spencer stood before you now. His hands were slightly hesitant this time to rest on your hips.

“Is everything ok, Spencer?” you asked him.

“Yes,” his voice was a whisper.

You didn’t believe him, but you knew better than to press him. He was a stubborn guy and whether you did or didn’t you weren’t going to get an answer. You slid your hands up his chest before cupping the back of his neck with your hands. The kiss was chaste. You didn’t want to sleep with him if he was having second thoughts.

“Are you sure? If you’ve changed your mind I can head hom-,” you were telling him.

“No, don’t,” he rushed out.

“I’m fine; I just haven’t been sleeping well,” he confessed. This surprised you, not because you didn’t know, but because you didn’t think he would tell you.

“Well, then maybe I should go. That way you can finally get to bed before the sun comes up for once,” you joked with him, “Besides, you’re the one who's always telling people how important sleep is to the human body.”

Your words shocked Spencer this time. Admittedly, in the back of mind he suspected that you could sense him leaving his bed, or your bed sometimes, and that one or more times he’d been a little loud dwindling in the next room. But he didn’t realize you were fully aware of his nightly escapades. You knew him too well. You were too sweet to him. Spencer knew after all the fucked up things he’s been through he didn’t deserve your friendship; or anything more despite the fact.

“Did you know that elephants sleep the least of any other animal?” he told you, he doesn’t know why. Maybe to distract you, or seduce you. Both outcomes came often enough for him to make it a guessing game.

“You’re not an elephant.”

And then there were the ultra rare times when neither outcome happened; just now being one of them.

“Sleep deprivation has been associated with reduced sexual desire and arousal,” he tried again.

“Well, I can help with that,” you teased. There we go.

He leaned down to kiss your lips but you pulled back in tease, smile on your face; you knew how pussywhipped you had this man. He didn’t want to fight it, he was growing desperate for you with every passing second. Rolling his eyes, he dipped his head in the crook of your neck. His hands left your hips, pulling you closer to him from your waist and lower back. Your hands began to unbutton his shirt, he was still wearing the clothes you saw him working in earlier that day.

You stopped him, never been one to have sex anywhere other than the bedroom, taking his hand already knowing where to go after doing so many times before already. Although, it wasn’t like his apartment was a confusing labyrinth. He followed you like always.

You reached the edge of the bed, sitting instinctively. Your hand went straight to his belt, undoing it with ease. Spencer pulled your hands away from his hips before sinking to his knees to the ground. He pulled your hips to the very edge, scratching the skin as he desperately pulled at your pants bringing them down your legs. Of course you let him.

He pushed you back and you fell on your elbows, still able to see him so clearly. See him dip his head and kiss the skin on the inside of your knee, his eyes lingering on yours. You let your head go for a second, basking in the feeling of his lips. They always made you feel so warm and tingly. One thing about Spencer, he loved foreplay. All the little things that lead up to sex. Most of the time, he craved the foreplay more than the sex itself.

He moved your legs over his shoulders, his arms wrapping around your thighs, his hands holding your hips. His nose ran along your inner thighs. Your skin erupted in goosebumps at the feeling of his warm breath coming from his nose. His fingers fiddled against your hip bones and you wiggled a bit becoming desperate by the minute for something more than just this teasing.

“Spence,” you whined, looking back at him.

“It doesn’t matter how many times we do this, you’ll never learn patience will you?” Spencer bartered.

“Spencer, I don’t come to you to learn patience,” you spat, not with any malice however.

“You won’t come at all with that attitude,” he snapped back, hiding a grin between your legs.

“Spencer!” you gasped.

He chuckled lowly, bringing his hand between your thighs, pulling your underwear to the side to expose you to him. You were glistening, slick beginning to leak from you already. Spencer could feel himself getting hard. He precariously tried to not buck his hips into the bed like horny teenager.

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.

He stepped up quickly letting your legs drop harshly. His fingers curled over the hem of your underwear pulling them down and tossing behind his shoulder before returning to his previous position. He felt like he was possessed. Acting and moving like it was primal, instinctive. He wanted nothing more in this moment than to satisfy you.

He kissed all the places except the place you needed the most. You curled your toes anticipating his next move, longing for his lips, tongue, fingers, anything to bring you pleasure. Just when you were about to sit up, ready to nag at him, his lips wrapped around your bud.

Your shoulders gave out at the feeling. Your body electrifying instantaneously. Your eyes trained on the ceiling, focusing on everything about Spencer in this moment, the sounds, his touch, his tongue. His tongue dipping in you every now and then, making you moan feverishly. His hands spread out, pinning your hips down to the bed to try and get you to stop wiggling your hips, but he wasn’t too successful in that.

“Knock it off,” he groaned, removing a hand wrapped around your leg to bring his fingers to your entrance.

“It’s not enough; I need more,” you whined.

“No, you want more,” he debuted, “You’re being greedy.”

“And you’re being mean,” you quipped, you always had something to retort.

“Ok, fine,” he stood up.

“Stop!” you whined, “Please, come back. Do whatever you want.”

“I will,” he sat on his knees again, instantly bringing his fingers up to rub slow circles that made your toes curl.

He purposefully let them every now and then prod at your entrance make your hips jerk in surprise. He could see how wet you were, all of the slick telling him how needy you were. He looked up to look at your face. His eyes catching your nipples peeking through the fabric of your shirt from the pleasure already, smiling to himself.

“Sexual arousal can cause an increase in blood flow to not just female genitalia, but also the breasts,” he told you, feeling your thighs squeeze ever so slightly.

“Is that your way of telling me my nipples are hard because of you?” you teased.

“Yes,” he stated before diving straight back between your thighs.

His tongue did circles like his fingers, the wetness and warmth much more stimulating than before. His fingers slid inside you, curling when he couldn’t push them any further. You moaned out, reaching your hand down to comb your fingers through Spencer’s shaggy hair. The noises of everything bounced off the walls of Spencer’s shallow bedroom. It sounded vulgar but so sexy. Your heavy breathing practically syncing together.

Your thighs squeezed more and more as you got closer to your climax; you didn’t care if you were suffocating Spencer. If he died, he died pleasuring you and neither of you minded it in this moment. Your hips grinding against his tongue chasing you release frantically. Spencer pumped his fingers in and out of you rapidly, leading you to ecstasy.

Your breaths became shaking, as did your moans. You were overcome with pleasure as your orgasm hit you so suddenly. You could feel Spencer’s smile growing against you, you knew that he wasn’t going to withdraw despite reaching your climax.

“Oh god, too much, Spence.”

“First it was not enough, now it’s too much?” he taunted you, fingers still pumping in and out you strenuously.

“Spence!” you wailed, your voice trembling embarrassingly.

When he wouldn’t give out, you pulled at his hair as you sat up and pulled his mouth away from between your thighs.

“Oh ow, ow, ow!” he whined.

“Jesus, you were gonna give me a heartache,” you whined.

“Actually the possibility of having a heart attack during sexual activity is exceedingly low. So you wouldn’t have had anything to worry about; if anything you would get a small headache,” he explained.

“You’re giving me a headache,” you whined, making him laugh.

You pulled him from the back of his neck, crashing his lips against yours. You loved to kiss Spencer. You always felt the closest to him physically when you kissed. Which is ironic since he was quite literally inside you most nights. Kissing, the art of kissing, was practically your love language. You always gave small pecks when you were together, privately of course.

Spencer was worried at first, that kissing was too intimate that things would complicate fast and feelings would get hurt. But as time went on and things continued to stay normal between you, he just began to relish in it rather than worry about nothing. At least that’s what he’s convinced himself of.

He suddenly remembered the first time you slept together. You were in his apartment one night going over some details of the case. Nothing so major, or frightening, but something wasn’t adding up. You decided to take a break, cracking open some beers and just talk. One beer became two, then three, then four and then suddenly bottles littered the pitiful coffee table in front of you. You were very clear with him, “I don’t just sleep with anybody.” But you were a woman with needs just as much as Spencer was a man, “Neither do I.”

“Things have to stay the way they are if we do this,” he told you that night.

“They will,” you assured him.

You rested your forehead against his seeing his eyes seem different. Spencer always did this. Everytime, just for a minute or even a second, he would disappear behind his eyes, like he was reminiscing on a memory you couldn’t describe.

“You did that thing again,” you said with a small grin on your face.

“I know,” he blushed, “Sorry.”

“You ever gonna tell me what you’re thinking about when you do that?” you questioned.

“Nope,” he smirked, making you giggle.

Spencer stood straight up shagging his shirt off before scrambling out of his pants. He crawled back over you settling his hips between your thighs as he dipped his head down to attach his lips to your neck. Your hand curled around his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair as his breath and lips tickled your skin. Your hips fit together snuggly, grinding against desperate to chase each other’s highs.

Spencer reached into the drawer beside your head to pull out a condom. You snatched it from his hands with a devilish smirk on your face tearing it with your teeth. You spat the foil corner from your mouth, pulling the condom from its package before tossing it aside. You reached between your bodies stroking Spencer. His face blushing red, contorting with pleasure as it’s the first of the night to feel some sort of friction he needed from the beginning. The reason he called you in the first place.

Spencer let his hands trace your skin. Though you wouldn’t react, your skin erupted in goosebumps. Feeling him prodding against your entrance, your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat. You always anticipated this part. No matter how many times you and Spencer spent the night together, you couldn’t ever get used to the flips your stomach made at this time.

Spencer pushed his hips into you, his length stroking your walls making your hum in delight. Spencer’s breath became heavy as he pulled out just enough before rutting back in you with skill. Your face began to feel hot as Spencer began to find a good rhythm. You could feel the sweat building on your forehead, the air cold against your scalp.

You looked at Spencer’s face; the veins bulging from his forehead and his neck. You cupped his cheek with your hand, catching his rhythm with your hips. Your breath became heavy, your hums became moans. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most vocal lover you laid with. Not that Spencer was your lover of course. That‘s not what you meant.

“What’s going on in that pretty little brain?” Spencer’s voice took you from your sudden trance; his pace beginning to slow. He brought his hand to your face, pulling the stray hairs that stuck to your cheeks from your sweat away.

“Nothing, just don’t stop,” you sighed, pulling his lips down to yours again.

Spencer picked up his pace again, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room. You felt overcome with an ambitious heat throughout your body. You pushed Spencer’s shoulders up trying your best to cool down without stopping your chase to your high. Spencer sat on his knees gripping your hips, practically ramming his hips into yours. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets beneath you.

“Oh god, fuck,” you cried out. Your thighs squeezing Spencer’s torso as you began to get closer to your climax.

“Shit, it’s like I can’t get enough no matter how many times I have you squirming beneath me,” he gloated.

You could see Spencer's chest begin to get red, his knuckles however turning white. Your hands reached down gripping his wrists. Prying them away, before sitting up to straddle his legs, as they stretched forward, adjusting comfortably. You held on to his shoulders sturdily, finding an entirely new rhythm to chase your high.

Spencer’s hands ran up your back, sliding under your shirt that you had yet to take off. No wonder you were overwhelmed with heat. He peeled the tight fabric from your skin, tossing it to the ground like he has so many times before. He unhooked your bra with ease, his eyes instantly trained to your chest. He couldn’t help his hands following, massaging the soft skin. Spencer looked up to you as you bounced up and down. Sweat dripping seductively down the valley of your breasts.

“You’re so pretty,” Spencer whispered, staring up at you.

“I know,” you joked breathlessly, giving him a playful wink.

Spencer let out a breathy laugh at that. The both of you were itching for a release now. Your bodies squirming against one another, aching to give the other the release. You leaned back placing your hands on his thighs, moving your hips faster and harder than before.

“Spencer, I’m getting close, I feel it,” you whimpered, “Please tell me you’re close too.”

“I’m close,” he breathed out.

“Fuck,” you cried.

“Come on, sweetheart. Let go,” Spencer mused, he reached between you two, fingers circling quickly between your thighs to bring you to climax even faster.

You gasped out, chest heaving as you felt the waves of pleasures wash over you suddenly. You couldn’t help the loud moans escaping from you as you threw your head back; arched back and thighs tensed. Spencer’s hand held your body close to himself, and you curled forward wrapping your arms around his head as you climaxed indefinitely. Spencer grunted below you, his legs stiffening and jerking upward. Curses whispered from his lips.

“Oh, shit,” you gasped, relaxing and slumping your body over Spencer.

“Treat me good, like always,” he whispered, his hand coming briefly to stroke your hair gently.

He rolled you over, laying you lazily on his bed before climbing out of the bed swiftly. He stumbled his way to dispose of the rubber. He grabbed a small towel from a drawer along with something to cover himself. He sat silently on the edge of the bed, gently cleaning you as your eyes slowly blinked, telling him you were exhausted.

“You want to stay the night? I can see how tired you are.”

“I’ll be gone first thing in the morning,” you quipped with a small grin on your face.

Spencer laid beside you, covering your body with the blankets. You curled by his side, your leg falling over his hips. He turned the lights out, but the soft golden glow from the lights in the room next door streamed in. His arm wrapped around you, fingers softly stretching your back. Steady breaths against his chest gave him a sense of comfort. He was always a bit jealous how easily sleep came to you; how peaceful you looked when you did. Spencer tried to close his eyes. He tried to let rest wash over him like a blanket. What felt like seconds was an hour. And another hour. He peeked at his watch laying on the nightstand beside him, three o’clock the time read.

Sighing, he sneaked out of bed, careful to not wake you. He skulked towards the kitchen, eyeing the small glass of whiskey still on the table. He couldn’t help smirk to himself over it. He opened the cabinet grabbing a mug, pouring a bitter liquid into it. He took a big swig of his favorite beverage, basking in all the flavors, when suddenly a beautiful figure stood before him.

“Hey,” his voice was quiet.

“I’m guessing you haven’t slept,” you tiptoed your way to him, you could hear him sighing.

“Is there anything at all I can do to help you?” you whispered, carefully placing your hand on Spencer’s warm back.

“No, but having you here is enough.”

You were beginning to blur the lines between your arrangement and your friendship. But neither you nor Spencer could muster up the courage to stop what you’ve started. Spencer indulged in your sweetness, the way you were always there to satiate his desires, the way you opened yourself to him like heaven’s gate. And you, well you would never admit it. Being in love with Spencer that is. You’ve known him for years; seen the best parts of him and helped him through the worst. You knew him the best of anyone you’ve known before. And he could say the same too. He’s never opened up to anyone as much as he has to you.

You were perfect for each other. And yet, Spencer wouldn’t allow himself to bask in it. He truly believed he didn’t deserve you. That all the demons that haunted him in these dark hours were undeserving of your kindness, compassion, gentleness. Simply thinking about you was often enough to calm him in tense situations. But he would never tell you this. So here he was, standing in the kitchen with his coffee black at three in the morning wondering why you couldn’t see that he would never be enough for you.

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