#i think i remember someone saying that that isn't his name anymore so i'm not sure if i should use it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

peacefxlmyko · 2 months

Text

It's not a one night stand if it turns into two

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Basically just Jake falling for his FWB.

Warnings: some smut, p in v, no physical describtion of reader, no use of Y/N, Jake getting attached, jealousy, sudden love confessions, fluff, maybe a little bit of Angst if you squint your eyes?, swearing

Notes: First smutty fanfic on here lmao go wild yall. All I have to say is Im in love with Glen Powell and so I automatically love Hangman too. Also the title is inspired by a Måneskin Song!

Once again, English isn't my first language so I'm sorry about any mistakes. Also, I didn't prove read this so just be warned.

Story under the cut! ✂️

He simply couldn't take this eyes off of you. The way you were standing at the bar, slightly leaning onto it as you were talking to Penny. The way your dress was hugging your body, perfectly showing off everything. Everything he had already seen but couldn't get enough off.

His mind drifted off to the first night you spent together. He didn't even remember anymore how you two ended up in bed together, but it was amazing.

Jake could basically still hear your whines and moans. They were music to his ears.

"Jake, oh, oh god- please!" You whined and begged, craving release. The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your shared moans and the headboard banging against the wall.

He was so big and he was fucking you so well. You always thought he gave off big dick energy but jesus- this was even more than expected, but you weren't going to complain.

"That's right, just like that- you're bein' such a good girl." He groaned, his hips bucking hard. The feeling of your pussy clenching around him drove him wild, not to mention you moaning and whining his Name.

You ended up coming on his cock, screaming his name. This wasn't your first and definitely not the last orgasm of the night.

"Seresin? Christ, are you even listening?"

He snapped back out of his thoughts as he looked back at Rooster, who by now just looked annoyed. "Sorry, I uh- yeah, I'm listenin'" Jake quickly mumbled and tried to pull himself together.

You both were friends and had told yourselves after the first time it wouldn't happen again. Well, that was 4 night stands ago.

Jake would never admit it to himself, but he was going crazy over you. Not only because of the way you fucked, but also because of your whole being. The way you lit up whenever someone talked to you, how you would sometimes nervously fiddle with your fingers or the hem of your shirt, the way you looked at him with a soft sparkle in your eyes.

But he was also obsessed with the way your hands buried in his hair, your legs wrapped around his hips as he filled you up, the way you held onto his biceps as you rode him.

But he would never admit that. He would never admit the way his heart fluttered whenever you cuddled close to him after sex. The way his heart actually also reacted whenever you kissed him, not only his cock.

The Jake 'Hangman' Seresin falling for someone? Never. He was never the kind of man to actually fall for someone and even think about settling down. But something about you felt different, even if it was only physical, for now.

By now Bradley had completely given up trying to talk to Jake. He just rolled his eyes and joined Phoenix and Bob instead.

Jake's eyes were focused on you the whole time, he was surprised you hadn't turned around at least once to catch him staring. You were still engrossed in a conversation with Penny until she had to serve other customers. You leaned back, grabbing your drink and taking a few sips until you were suddenly approached by a man.

Jake had hoped at first he just wanted to ask where the restroom was or something but when he didn't leave your side, Jake felt something boiling inside of him. His jaw clenched as he saw you laughing and happily talking with that guy.

He didn't even understand why you were so focused on that rando. He wasn't even half as handsome as Jake, hell, even Bradley was more handsome in Jake's eyes!

His patience ran out the moment you pulled out your phone, seemingly to give your number to that ass of a man as Jake mentally called him that.

His legs seemed to have a mind of their own as they stormed towards you. Hangman grabbed your shoulder and quickly turned you around to him, earning shocked looks from both you and that guy.

"What the—"

"What the hell are you doin'? I thought we were a thin'!"

God, that stupid southern accent basically made you wanna melt right then and there.

"Wha- I thought you only saw us as some quick fun!" You protested.

"Are you kiddin' me?! Do you think I'm sleepin' with other girls besides you?"

"....."

Jake frowned at your silence which was basically the most direct answer.

"Listen, I don't usually do shit like this. Normally I move on quickly but you put some kind of spell or somethin' on me because you make my damn heart flutter every time our gazes meet. And I love the way you laugh, I love the way you tease me, I love the way you make fun of me. And I fuckin' hate seeing you with a man that isn't me. So quit your bullshit with this guy and finally go on a proper date with me!"

Jake didn't even think, it was all just blurting out.

You looked like your eyes were about to pop out, you stared at him in complete disbelief. Were you dreaming or something?

"Please say somethin' so I know I didn't mess this up."

"Shut up and kiss me, Seresin" You muttered and promply pulled him in.

This kiss felt so different from all the other ones you shared. This one was so full of emotions and passion. Your hand rested on his cheek, as his hands found their place on your waist.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow at 7." Jake grinned.

You didn't even mind he had just decided that, you were looking forward to that date.

"See you then, cowboy." You grinned and pressed another quick kiss on his lips.

#top gun maverick #top gun #jake hangman seresin #top gun hangman #hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #glen powell #hangman smut #Spotify

470 notes · View notes

luveline · 4 months

Note

hey! would you mind writing sirius black x reader (ole flame or something) when they meet for the first time since azkaban at a meeting for the order? thank you and happy holidays!

thank u for requesting, hope this is OK! ♡

—you and sirius both get to go home eventually, 2.2k. fem

You were still kids when Sirius… went away. You thought he hurt James and Lily, and it didn't matter that you loved him because he was evil and cruel and he hurt the people he loved most in the world, and then you were outposted thousands of miles eastward, your life a shadow.

Remus sent you letters. You always answered, even when it hurt, but his last was too much to believe. You told yourself that someone forged his handwriting through a curse or some new gimmick, and then a second arrived with a smaller envelope hidden inside.

No name written on it. No Dear anything to begin.

Things are different to what you've been told. Please come home, it said. This penmanship was shaken like a hand out of practice, but something felt familiar in the curves and dots.

If Remus’ letter (and the second smaller one too) were in fact telling the truth, it means you did something awful, and so, for a while, you don't go.

Please, the next letter says, again enclosed within a larger explanation from Remus, I'm sorry. I just want to see you again.

Getting home isn't as simple as he might think. You have to picture the destination very clearly to disapparate, and you have no sustained recollection anymore of the places you used to go. You remember silly things, slices of memories; the four of them laughing in a big green field, the sweet smell of hair oil to your left; the beige walls of a rented flat where you'd lay in bed for hours, sometimes days at a time, before things got too terrible to sleep; a string-lit garden that last summer, hands of poker on a glass table. These places aren't real anymore. You can't go back to them.

Upon your request, Molly forwards you an address and a secret code.

Trains, buses, trains again. A long walk through a cold street. Some secret this or that. You arrive in the night and a frowning face ushers you in, past a painting sealed away and up the creaking stairs. You spend hours sitting on the end of a bed coated in dust waiting for the sun to rise, your back stiff with nerves. You could slip out before anyone else knows you're here, it's not as if Moody would give you away. But why did you come, if you were going to run straight back to your outpost?

You don't want Sirius’ betrayal to be true, of course. It took your breath away imagining what it would mean if he hadn't done what you thought. If it's all lies (as it seems to be), if he's innocent as he and Remus claim, it means you turned your back on him and left him to suffer, and he's still asking you to come home.

A few people stir for breakfast. Molly, who's voice you remember, and some younger sounding ones that may be her children, or perhaps the newer Order recruits. Then comes Remus’ voice. He sounds different. Less Welsh, more tired. Homely anyways as he passes your door with someone beside him.

“...any day now,” he's saying, “try not to worry.”

“I do worry. I've worried about it every day for years.”

You freeze up.

The stairs creak, Remus’ voice moving further away. “She doesn't need worrying.”

Sirius must stay at the top of the stairs for a moment. He sounds close. “I wouldn't know what she needs.”

“Come have some breakfast.”

“I'll write her again.”

“After breakfast.”

“What if she doesn't come?”

“After breakfast,” Remus insists. “She can ignore you once we've had toast.”

“I forgot how funny you are,” Sirius mutters.

Hearing his voice fills you with doubt. He sounds nothing like he used to, no easy confidence to be heard, just fatigue.

You look down at your hands. Hearing his voice has a new emotion sprouting, too. When you first learned what had happened to your friends, you felt anger like a knife everywhere you went. How could he do that to them? How could he do it to you, be that person, ruin everything you'd loved and made together? But later, when anger faded and grief ached, you'd missed the Sirius you loved. Shamefully, in longing pangs, you'd toss and turn to dreams where things were different.

Now there's a chance he might still be that person, and you're hiding from him in his own house.

“There's someone here,” Molly says as you leave your room, her voice nearly too quiet to hear from the kitchen. “Moody's told me this morning.”

“What?” Arthur asks.

“Who?” a younger voice says.

A small intermission of quiet. “Well, I don't know,” Molly says eventually, though she must have guessed it was you from the letter you sent. “But I'll need another loaf of bread. You'd better go, boys.”

“Mum,” one whines.

“Come on now.”

The stairs whimper as you descend, the bannister sticky with old gloss under your hand. Paisley wallpaper and drapes catch your eye as you pass the overflowing shoe rack. There must be more people here than you'd thought. The coat stand is similarly overloaded.

You can see into the kitchen as soon as you take the last step down. Molly stands wringing a dish cloth between her hands, two teenage boys at the kitchen table. Remus stands near her right with a cup of tea, and when he sees you, he genuinely smiles.

“Oh, good,” he says, the scar that bisects his lip pulling as he takes a sip of tea.

The teenagers turn to see you. “Bread, boys! Arthur, you can go with them," Molly says.

Arthur doesn't complain. You falter in the hallway, quiet as the trio of Weasley's leave the kitchen in their slippers to take a quiet exit from the front door. They smile politely as they go, but the boys whisper as the door shuts behind them. You wonder if they have an inkling of who you are, and then you wonder what you might say now they're gone.

Molly remains, inquisitive to know that you need privacy but also the security of her company. She was always smart like that.

“Come in, then,” Remus says.

“I–” You clear your throat. “I'm not sure I should.”

A startle of silverware against china.

Remus gives you one of his looks. It has tears threatening to well. Why didn't I fight to see him more? you think. Suddenly years have passed and he's changed, but his reassuring glances remain. It's like he's saying everything is fine, why wouldn't everything be fine? Chin up, dove.

Sirius appears in the doorway. Dark circles beneath grey eyes, his cheeks gaunt with hunger rather than the sleek sharpness he once possessed. He's still pretty, if wounded. It's as though you've found an old photo of him that's been smudged with age. He's stepped out of one of your moulding albums to haunt you.

“Angel,” he breathes, his hand clasped low on the doorway, “you're here.”

You look past him to Molly and Remus. There isn't a reality nor dimension where they'd let him stay here if they didn't believe his innocence. Remus explained it all in the letter and still you worried if he might have gotten it wrong, and simply believed what he wanted to believe, but it's not possible. Remus loved James so much, he would've killed Sirius himself if he really thought Sirius was the secret keeper who betrayed them.

So. It's a relief to be home.

You stare at him. “You look tired,” you say quietly.

“I'm fine. I am.”

He seems alright, considering. You'd even say he was handsome with his hair pushed away from his face, a dark shadow of stubble around his mouth, but he looks exhausted.

You're expecting him to say what you'd say. How could you ever think I'd do it?

Sirius was prone to similar bouts of pride, or righteousness, justice, whatever you want to call it, but he doesn't bother with that now. He looks at you as though you're the only person on earth, gaze narrowed but eyes wide, pain between his brows as he asks, “What's wrong?”

Your hand finches up to your cheek to wipe the sudden tear away. “I thought I'd never see you again.” Your Sirius.

“Don't be upset,” he pleads.

“How can I not be? I left you all alone for so long.”

He laughs roughly. “Sweetheart, what were you supposed to do?”

“Not just give up.”

“You thought it was me. That's the only thing you could've done. Either of you,” he says, gesturing backward with his hand. “It was hard… to know who to trust, at the end. It's not your fault.”

You really were only kids together, not half as in love as James and Lily, but that doesn't mean you weren't mad for each other. He looked after you. You would've had a life, you think.

“You were just gone,” you say, looking down at the floor between you, eyes tracing lines of wood grain. “Everyone. There was nobody left. And I just let you go.”

“Do you want to come here?” he asks. You lift your head. His hand is barely in front of him, fingers open, palm up.

It's like taking a stranger's hand for the first few seconds. You keep them low between you both, unfamiliar to each other. But, you find, as his fingers wrap around yours in that selfish way they used to do, squeezing rather than intertwining to make all of them fit, he remembers you.

You step a little closer, your arm to his chest, and look up at him through your lashes. It would melt him like a candle near a furnace, this look. He'd be smug or seething about something and you'd sidle in to stand between his shoes, unsure of what to say but determined to be there for him. It's the same now.

“What's wrong?” he asks under his breath.

“I left you all alone,” you repeat.

“It wasn't your choice, okay?” He smooths his free hand from your elbow to your upper arm.

Molly says something to Remus. He chuckles and says something in return. Happier to admit it if it's only for Sirius’ ears, you say, “I'm really sorry, Sirius. I miss you every day.”

“I miss you too,” he says.

You push your arms around his waist and hide your face in his chest, feeling for the lines of who he used to be, the dip of his spine in his back or the soft cotton of one of his old t-shirts. You regret hugging him at all, until he puts his arm behind your head, a shaky breath released against your crown.

I'm scared, he'd said. But I don't want you to be scared, okay? Barely twenty, he smelled of the sticky red powder on the end of matches after a night doing things he couldn't tell you about. You could tell him you loved him, and he you, but you weren't to discuss Order business. We'll be okay.

But Lily–

Everyone's going to be fine. I promise.

“You promised,” you say to yourself. Too quiet for him to hear, but he does.

“I promised you so many things I'm not sure what one you mean,” he says with a disappointed laugh.

You pull away, taking his face into two hands. “How do you feel?” you ask, ignoring the tremble working up from your wrists.

“What?” His eyes are dark.

“How are you? Did they– I mean, are you okay? Are you sick?”

“Remus has patched me up. And Cordelia, the medwitch, you know her?”

“I don't know anyone. I've been away.”

He nods sadly. “Yeah. Well, you look the same.”

“I don't.”

“You do! You look the same,” —he almost sounds happy, his lips curling into a smile— “sweetheart. Sweetheart–” He closes his eyes.

You push his hair behind his ears. “You don't look the same,” you confess, “you have wrinkles, right… here.” You touch the corners of his eyes.

“You're still beautiful.”

“Mm. You can't even see me.”

“I don't need to see you. I knew you would be.”

You rise up to kiss his cheek gently. “It's like you're back, like– like, I always felt like you were gone. And now you're home again. You are home, aren't you?”

He covers your hand with one of his. “You're here, so–”

You laugh together nervously. “Yeah, I'm here.”

“I have stuff to do to make it right.”

“Then we'll do it.”

“Okay,” he says. He swallows a breath, and wraps you in a surprisingly tight hug. “Did you read my letters?”

I don't want anything from you. Just to see you're okay.

“I read them. I'm okay. Don't I look okay?”

“You look perfect. Just like the last time I saw you,” he says. It startles you how suddenly he sounds like he did when you were young, his flirting drawl, voice velveteen.

“Not like that,” you laugh.

He pulls you as close as you can be, rough now, his arms solid around you. “I missed that,” he says, rubbing your back. “I forgot how you sound when you laugh.”

You've led very different lives. “I didn't forget yours.”

“You wouldn't. You love having things to hold against me.”

You stroke his hair. “Maybe a little.”

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius x reader fluff #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #marauders era #marauders #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #sirius black oneshot #the marauders #sirius orion black

681 notes · View notes

pretty-little-mind33 · 9 months

Text

Lavender Haze

bsfd!James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: Having a thing for your best friend's dad was your dirty little secret. Up until it wasn't so secret anymore.

Genre: SMUT (NSFM)

Warnings: fictional age gap relationship (20f, 40m), drunk!reader, tipsy!James (no drunk sex though bc we love consent), fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), penetration, swearing, corruption kink, sexual themes, nipple play, praise

Your small trunk bumps into your knees as you stand in front of the familiar, decent sized, house in the center of Godric's Hollow. An early summer breeze messes up your hair and the humidity prickles at your skin, suddenly making you feel uncomfortable in your woolen jumper.

Inside the house, music plays and you can see silhouettes dancing around. The smell of Ginny Weasley's famous plum muffins swirl around you from outside the door and your stomach reminds you just how little you'd eaten in the train. Quickly, you lift your trunk with one hand and use your other hand to knock.

You hear muffled sounds from inside and then you see Harry Potter's rosy cheeks perk up in a wide smile as he holds the front door open, "Y/n!" He says happily. Harry's dark hair is a mess as a lopsided birthday hat that says Birthday Boy pushes some of his hair away from his face. Harry looks slightly ridiculous, but he's definitely too drunk to care, "Come in, come in." He insists.

Inside, the music is louder and the house is incredibly crowded with a bunch of drunk adults. When Harry invited you to his twenty-first birthday, you had expected something special — especially since, from Harry's stories, Mr. Potter and his friends had a tendency to throw extravagant parties among themselves — but you never imagined a full on muggle-inspired rager.

You can smell beer mixed with some wizard-alcohol Ron had once smuggled into your Gryffindor dorms in your sixth year and you sniffle. "You look nice," Harry compliments and moves your trunk into a corner.

You smile faintly, subconsciously running your palms over your jumper. You look down at your plain white, worn out, sneakers you've had since your Hogwarts years and the boring little jean skirt you'd thrown on because you haven't done laundry in a week. You feel underdressed but mumble a thank you anyway.

Harry doesn't seem to think you're underdressed because he ushers you inside his living room. You pass by countless classmates you haven't seen in a few years and almost all of them are drunk. Some holler your name and grin, while others don't look like they remember you.

When you see Ron and Hermione dancing in the center of the room, you and Harry quickly join them. As you dance, you don't exactly keep track of time as drinks seem to find their way into your hand. You just dance and drink until your mind is fuzzy and you have the sudden urge to use the bathroom.

Honestly, you didn't think you were that drunk. Or at least not until you couldn't seem to find the bathroom in a house you'd been a guest in more times than you could count.

You stumble, hand coming to balance yourself as your foot hooks into the other. You hear someone call your name, a voice you don't initially recognize, and suddenly you feel someone slide your arm around their shoulder, their other arm holding you up from around your waist.

"Hey there, watch your step." The person says softly and you look at them. You think it's Harry at first. It's the same hair and almost the same smile, but the more you focus you can tell it isn't Harry at all.

This man is older — not that you could really tell if you didn't recognize him — and your breath hitches as you quickly pull away,

"Mr Potter!" You exclaim a little loudly, "Oh, I'm sorry. I- I was looking for the loo."

You watch a smirk curl his lips as he stands a little straighter. His dark hair looks a little messy in the best way and you feel a blush creep up your cheeks. You start to question if it's the alcohol you drank, or if Mr Potter just looks extra handsome this evening.

"Well the bathroom's in the opposite direction, love." He chuckles, "And James is just fine. Mr. Potter makes me feel old."

You hide a laugh behind your palm, knowing it really wasn't that funny, and resist touching your cheeks to check if they're as warm as they suddenly feel.

You hear another happy holler and James looks back at the party. His hands run in his curls and he frowns, "Is it just me or have I let this party spiral a little out of control?" He asks you.

You sway on your feet and try to concentrate on James's question and not his lips or how blurry the hallway walls have turned around him. You faintly see James pinch his nose and mutter to himself, "Bloody idiot," as his hand gently skims your arm and you inhale, surprised by the warmth.

You look at him and lose your balance again, this time stumbling into his chest. His hand rests on your waist to steady you. Suddenly, you hear an obnoxious whistle from behind you and you and James look toward the sound.

You see a boy around your age send you a wink as you sway on your feet, and then he raises his glass at James in some kind of sleazy congratulations. You squint. There's no way this guy knows who James is, because if he did he certainly wouldn't have implied what he was clearly implying.

James doesn't respond in any way (if you don't count the tensing of his hands as it moves around your back) and instead he turns around and holds under your arm too. Gently, he helps you walk away from the chaos that is now the party, "Mr Potter, I really need to use the bathroom." You insist.

He looks at you sweetly, "I know, darling, but you can use mine."

You feel your heart jump and you don't answer. Your stomach feels as fuzzy as your head and you stare at James, admiring his features. Then, you look around. You're in a new hallway, one you've never been in. The walls are darker and the wooden floor squeaks under your sneakers.

Suddenly, you hear a door open and a light turns on. You blink and see a small room which consists of one queen bed, one desk, and one armoire. Old and new books are scattered around the room and the navy curtains are drawn shut. In the corner is a smaller door and you pray it's the bathroom.

"In there," James whispers as his hands disappear from your body.

Instantly, you rush inside and as quickly as you went in, you're out again. James, who was finding a shirt from inside his drawer, turns around. "Already?" He asks, slightly amused. You blush and nod hesitantly.

You hear him laugh and the sound sends electric shocks into your heart. What is happening to you?

James makes his way to you and hands you a shirt. Your fingers skim his as you take it in your hand and you look at him, confused.

"I want you to sleep here tonight. With me." Your chest tightens and your eyes round. James's own cheeks dust pink as he rubs his nape, "I just want to make sure you're okay, Y/n. You're drunk and someone could take advantage of you. I want to know you're safe."

James clenches his jaw as a little voice in his head screams at him, "Are you sure that someone won't be you?" He tenses. He'd never hurt you. You're too innocent, too kind, for him to ruin. James hates himself for even thinking of what you're hiding behind your jumper, or admiring how supple your thighs look under your skirt, and he hates himself even worse for imagining the taste of your lips.

"Oh," You say and your thumb runs over James's shirt, "Okay."

James stands straighter as he watches you disappear into his bathroom again to change and if he's honest, he looks longer than he should have.

Sighing, he runs a hand down his face — he needs to end this goddamn party somehow, and holy fuck how is he supposed to explain where you went to his son?

* * *

When you open your eyes, your mind is still a little fuzzy and your throat is extremely dry. You sit up, hands running over the sheets, and you squint as you try to adjust to the darkness and your new surroundings.

You can remember Harry, the party, drinking, and James. You see him. He's sleeping curled up on a chair near his bed.

Quickly, you pull the covers away from your body and stand. Your eyes widen when you realize you're only wearing your panties and one of James's white chemises. What the hell have you done? You wince. Hesitantly, you make your way to where James is and shake him,

As soon as you see him wake up, your word vomit begins, "Mr Potter, I'm so sorry if I was a nuisance yesterday evening. I barely remember what happened. I was so drunk," James sits up. He smiles and opens his mouth to answer but you continue, "I- We didn't do anything, did we, Mr Potter? Because if I said or did something last night, I honestly didn't mean it. It was only ever a silly crush," You whisper, cheeks burning as you subconsciously pull his shirt lower and over your exposed thighs.

You can see James's eyes darken as he listens to every word you say. The moonlight shines onto him, almost making his skin glisten, and you suddenly feel small. "A crush, huh?" James smirks, standing up slowly. Your eyes move from his and then to his chest. It just now hits you that he's shirtless.

You tilt your head to look at him, "Excuse me?"

"When did this crush start?" He asks and leans in. His knuckles brush your cheek and automatically you close your eyes. You wonder how he can feel so close and still so far.

"Last year." You say breathlessly

"And when did it end, love?" James mumbles. His lips are now almost pressed to your ear as his hands caress down your arms. You feel disoriented as you keep your eyes squeezed shut.

"I-It didn't," You admit, making a small breathy sound when James's lips finally connect with your cheek. You feel him smirk and then, slowly, his mouth proceeds down your neck as he gently sprinkles kisses onto your skin. You chew on your lip to suppress a moan as his hands find your hips and pulls you in until you're pressed up against him.

"Is this okay?" James whispers and you nod. "Shit, you don't know what you've done to me this past year, Y/n." He continues and your heart pounds, "Do you even know how many times I've thought of you? The fucking things I imagined?"

You feel him kiss up your jaw, "Filthy things, love. Things I shouldn't have been thinking about my son's best friend. But, Merlin, look at you. You're bloody stunning now." James's voice is low but every time you hear him, that tightness in your stomach worsens.

"Mr Potter," You whimper and run your hand over his cheek. Your eyes flutter and you look at him needily, "Kiss me."

James looks at you intensely for a moment until he smiles and graciously listens as his lips press against yours. Delicately in the beginning — almost as if you're too sacred to him and he wants to savor this moment. But then, when he feels your hands on his chest, he deepens the kiss and his tongue pushes past your lips. You shut your eyes again. hands finding his hair as you kiss him desperately.

You never imagined you'd admit this, but you'd dreamt of this moment countless times in the middle of the night. Still, even in your wildest fantasies, nothing could compare to the real thing.

James pulls away a moment, hands holding your cheeks as he admires your face. You look flustered as you breathe heavily, hair a mess and lips bruised. He smirks and looks at your thighs. You hadn't even realized you'd been rubbing them together to dull the ache, "Fuck," James mutters to himself as he kisses you again.

You whine into his lips, the pressure in your core becoming harder to ignore. You want him, you want him so badly it hurts.

Quickly, you slide your hand down over his pants and you can feel just how badly he wants you too. "Shit," James breathes, gripping your wrist and pulling your hand away. You look up at him, so innocent, and he curses himself, "Y/n, don't start something you can't finish." He warns.

"Who says I can't finish it?" You argue instantly and lean up to capture his lips again.

James chuckles but accepts your kiss anyway. He's going to hell for this, he thinks as your hands wander around his body. He shuts his eyes and sucks on your neck until you let out a small moan.

Fuck, he should want to protect you from the things he wants to do to you.

When he pulls away, his eyes have darkened even more and you can feel a confusing tonal shift. Maybe you couldn't finish this, you start to doubt as you look at him expectantly. You chew on your lip. Maybe this had been a huge mistake and maybe James thinks so too.

"If we continue, we can't go back to normal." James states and you tense.

"I know."

"Y/n, I can pretend this never happened. No strings, no awkwardness, I promise. You just have to say the words." He says, completely serious.

James is no longer touching you and you realize you miss him. You're in way over your head but somehow, you feel completely safe. You don't feel like you're making the wrong decision when you stay silent.

James's eyes sparkle but he runs a hand in his hair and looks away, "Bloody hell." He curses and you smile. He presses his hand to your cheek and then tilts your chin up, "This is insane."

"Just fuck me already," You laugh, "I know you want to."

Once the words leave your mouth, he kisses you hungrily. You lose your balance and fall onto the bed behind you, head hitting the bunched up blankets. You giggle when James hovers over you. "You're a little tease, you know that?" He chastises, his lips exploring your neck once more.

Honestly, you'd be insulted by his comment if you hadn't spent the last year trying to catch his attention whenever you had the chance.

"And you're a dirty perv for lusting after me." You respond slyly. James hesitates a moment but continues to kiss you anyway. When he leans on his arms and looks at you, you can see he looks a little embarrassed. "Don't worry, it turns me on." You smirk.

James shakes his head, "You're quite naughty, huh?" He asks and you nod. When you feel his hand travel down your stomach and lift his shirt to reveal your underwear you feel like you could almost orgasm right there. Instead, you bite your cheek and resist rubbing your thighs.

When James touches you over your panties, you let out a small gasp. As he slides his hand inside them, he leans on his side and uses his other hand to cover your mouth gently, "Don't wake everyone up with your noises, love." He looks at you and smiles as his finger runs up your pussy teasingly, "Just let me make you feel good."

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut. No one has ever made you feel this good already. Sure, you'd had boyfriends over the course of your seven years at school but you realized none of them could compare to him.

"Has anyone ever touched you like I am?" James sounds cocky as he almost reads your mind. When he speaks, his middle finger suddenly curls into you and you arch a little as your eyes widen from the unusual, foreign, feeling.

"I- no. Not as good as you, Mr Potter." You admit, squirming under his touch.

"Good." James leans into the crook of your neck and kisses your cheek. His hand moves just a little harder now – just enough to bring you close, but not make you come – and your breath has become harsher, "And didn't I ask you to call me James." He frowns playfully.

Your hand comes down to grip his wrist, "Please, James." You whine.

"Hmm?"

He wants you to beg. Your entire body feels like it's vibrating.

"Please." You whisper again and his pace quickens even more.

"You're such a good fucking girl." James compliment, kissing the skin near your ear and gently removes his fingers from inside of you. He slides your panties down your legs, leaving your pussy exposed. You barely have time to protest his lack of touch because he's climbing over you.

You shouldn't stare at his chest but you do anyway. Your lower stomach tightens.

James leans down and unbuttons his shirt, the one you have on, until he manages to pull it down your shoulders and away from you. You're completely naked now and, clearly unapologetic, James looks at your breasts and places his lips around your nipples. You gasp, hands wrapping around his — surprisingly muscular — back. You feel faint as the only thing you can focus on is James's mouth as he explores and kisses all over your breasts and collarbone.

"This is sick," James mumbles but continues to kiss you anyway.

You smile and suddenly flip around so you're sitting on his lap, "I want to ride you." You state, eyes twinkling.

James looks wind blown as his hair splays across the pillow and his hands grip your hips. He looks flustered as you feel his boner press against your thigh.

You fumble with his boxers, pulling them down and holding his dick in your hand. He hisses, eyes shutting from how sensitive he is. You smirk and swipe your thumb over his tip until he moans louder.

"Tease." He grits, hands digging into your hips, "In the drawer." He says.

You understand and reach over, opening the drawer and taking out one of James's condoms. Him and Lily have been divorced for years and jealousy stings your chest thinking who he uses them for now.

James takes the condom from your hand, carefully rips it with his teeth, and then puts it on expertly, “You do this often?” You ask, hiding how jealous you are behind a small smile.

"Sometimes," He answers nonchalantly, “But none have been as sweet as you are, love.”

You feel him press against your pussy and your eyes flutter shut. He feels much bigger than anyone you're been with in the past and you bite your lower lip, "Are you okay? We can stop whenever you want, Y/n." James promises, seeing your nervous expression.

You rest your palms on his chest and pull yourself up until you can slowly reach under and guide him into you. "I want this." You whisper.

James curses as his dick disappears into you. You let out a small squeal as he does and he covers your mouth with his hand as you adjust to him.

You nod when you can finally start to move and James settles back into the pillows. You start to bounce and every time you bury his cock back inside you, you whimper with pleasure.

James watches your breasts bounce with you and he feels hot. He's enjoying this way too much. You look beautiful, naked and jumping on his cock like a starved bunny. You're so fucking cock drunk already.

"How does it feel, sweetheart?" He asks cockily and helps guide your hips.

You can barely form words, "I-t I- I f-eel," You moan, hands clutching James's shoulders now as you continue to fuck him, "James!" You groan his name and he bucks his hips.

You feel so goddamn tight around him.

James enjoys you riding him — losing yourself in the pleasure you get from him — but as time passes, your bounces falter and you start to pant. James senses your thighs quiver and he isn't surprised when you tell him, "I'm close."

Your head suddenly hits the pillow as you're spun around and you shut your eyes. You arch your back as James presses himself into you, missionary style, and you wrap your arms around him again,

"Filthy fucking girl." He whispers near your ear as you spread your legs wider to allow him to fuck you easier and harder.

Your eyes roll back as James's hips snap into yours and your nails run down his back. He groans but continues to pound into you.

"You're doing so well," He encourages between ragged breaths, "Are you gonna come for me?"

You nod and he smirks.

"Then go ahead." James says, knowing he can't last much longer either. You explode and you feel warm all over as he continues to fuck you even after you've reached your high.

You tap his back, recovering, "I want to suck your cock. You can finish in my mouth." You whimper.

James moans just hearing the words and pulls out. He pulls off the condom and leans off the bed for a moment so he can throw it into the trash near his desk. You shift your bodies so you can put yourself between his legs and you immediately lick his tip.

You feel him twitch in your hand as you take him into your mouth. James looks at you, one of his hands gripping your hair as you choke on his dick. He's so goddamn close. All it takes is you glancing up at him with your beautiful eyes and running your tongue along his length for him to curse and come into your mouth.

You swallow and James loses his mind all over again. You look completely fucked out now as your eyes flutter and your chest heaves. His heart thumps in his chest,

His hand curls around your neck as he leans in to press a kiss against your forehead. You sit with your legs sprawled behind you, arms clenched between your knees, completely bare in front of him, and you shiver at his touch.

When he stands, you almost call out his name. You don't know what you're so afraid of, maybe you're scared he'll leave you.

"Here." He climbs back into the bed with his boxers on and he guides your arms into his shirt and starts to button it up, "You did so well. Made me feel so good, yeah?"

He takes your cheeks in his hands and you look at him. He feels slightly guilty for the distant look in your eyes, "Are you okay?"

You squirm a little, "I'm a little sore already. You-You're bigger than anyone else I've been with.” You admit.

James looks cocky and he traces circles on your thigh, "How can I make you feel better, darling?" He sees you look away bashfully and play with the buttons of his shirt, "Want me to kiss it better?" He teases.

You feel aroused again and bite your lip, nodding.

James sits on his heels and moves you so you're sitting against the headboard, your legs spread. His shirt rides up your thigh, exposing your pussy, and his dick twitches in his pants. Fuck, he's an evil evil man.

You watch him, breathing harshly, as you wait with anticipation. No one has ever eaten you out before. Your first boyfriend had expressed his disgust and you had never asked anyone again.

James takes your leg in his hands. He starts to kiss your calf muscle and then moves upwards to your inner thigh. You clutch the sheets as he kisses your skin gently.

"Relax, sweet girl." He whispers when you squirm. James is now laying in between your legs and he presses a kiss just above your pussy, his hands hooking under your thighs to push them open even wider.

You moan when he finally licks up your slit. It feels strange at first and your instinct is to move away from it. When he feels you jump, James looks up at you, "Do you want me to stop?" He asks gently.

You shake your head furiously. James smirks and presses another kiss to your inner thigh. This time, he licks and sucks on your skin a little bit before he finds your pussy again and attaches his mouth to your clit.

You gasp and your hands bury themselves in James's hair. You moan his name.

James continues to suck on your clit, occasionally gently thrusting the tip of his tongue into you and you see stars.

"How are you feeling?” James asks in between kisses to your clit. He's not asking to tease this time, but to genuinely make sure he's pleasing you.

"A-amazing — ah!" You cry when he sucks a little harder and you buck your hips into his mouth.

James makes a little sound when you instinctively close your thighs around his head. He uses one of his hands to pull one of your thighs open, and the other follows, "Gotta Keep 'em open, my love." He says and you nod, your eyes squeezing shut.

You feel like you're floating as James continues. It doesn't take long until you come for the second time, collapsing onto the bed with harsh breaths.

James kisses your thigh one last time and gently closes them. He licks his lips and scoops you into his arms as holds you to his bare chest, "You did so well. My good girl."He kisses your cheek and you smile.

"What do you need, love?" He asks once you wiggle from his arms and adjust your hair. You must look completely disheveled.

"Um? Water?" You whisper, unsure.

James is up on his feet instantly as he fetches you some water from the sink in his bathroom. When he returns you're sitting up on his bed and the morning light from the window shines onto your face. James hands you the glass.

"Thank you." You say softly and take a sip.

"How was it?" James finds himself asking and he curses himself in his head. James hasn't really asked anyone how sex was since Lily, but for some reason he burns for your approval. He sounds like a hopeless teenager.

"I loved every second." You reply honestly. "You're the first person who's ever given me head too."

"Really?" He sits next to you and places your glass on his bedside table when you hand it to him.

"Yeah. My ex found it gross."

"Well, he’s a bloody idiot." James says, completely serious, and you laugh. You look at him and James wishes he could hear your laughter all the time.

"James?"

He almost blushes at his name, "Hmm?"

"What does this mean?" You ask, pointing between you and him.

James wants to tell you he likes you. He wants to ask you out to dinner, somewhere fancy where he can spoil you exactly like you deserve, but he doesn't want to sound creepy.

Plus, there is Harry to think of. His son, who will be worried sick if you come out of his father's room looking like you do now.

"I don't know." James admits quietly.

You see his expression and your heart clenches. You want him, you want nothing more than for him to be yours. But you know he can't, not when Harry is your best friend. You don't want to hurt your best friend.

Still, you don't want to shut the door completely, "Can we find out as we go?" You ask timidly, implying that — at least — you want to have him intimately again.

James grins. He has never ever been happier to hear those words.

2K notes · View notes

sickuma · 10 months

Text

SILLAGE — a Simon Riley fic. 2/2

❱ again this was an au first written on tiktok! this will be the last part of it, please keep in mind that it is all fiction and that if you're going through the same thing and are having the same thoughts, please seek someone you trust. Please fight for yourselves, you're worth it ꜝ？ Warning. . this is a heavy angst fic, mentions of suicide and acts of committing, if that is something that triggers bad emotions, please exit the fic.

paring is Ghost x Reader this is unedited! mistakes such as spelling and grammatical errors are to be expected !

Part 1 (^_^;)

SILLAGE — (n.) The scent that lingers in air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume.

—hey [name]? I know I'm the last person you want to hear from right now, but I just really—

There was a short pause, as the voicemail erupts a slight static sound.

—I love you. That should have been enough reason. No, you were enough. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry I was cowardly, I figured that you'll be happier and safer, being with someone who isn't me. Someone who isn't a soldier.

It was the same night he left your apartment. He swore to himself he would not come crawling back. To protect both of you, at the time, it had been the best solution for him. Until the midnight strikes, he remembered just how serious you looked, just how accepting you looked.

Too accepting.

—because who knows when one of these missions would finally take me out. I can't let you suffer through that, I can't be the one to give you that kind of grief. So I thought leaving you was the best option.

There was a dire pause as he thought of the best words possible to express himself. He’s never been one to do such, but for you, he’s willing to be better.

—it wasn't.

He spoke desperately, almost shaking from just how much adrenaline rushed through him. He had just argued with the team, and after a long hour of explaining to them what he needed to do, he was finally permitted to bail out on this mission, it’s not like he wouldn't leave without permission, that's how urgent this is for him, he needed to get to you as soon as possible,

Even he doesn't know why he’s in a rush,

Maybe it's because of your silence, the unanswered calls, and unread messages that brought him on edge.

—I love you, far too much, my love, to even think straight without you. I love you so much it's hard to breathe. I so desperately love you to the point it hurts.

The desperation and sincerity. It was all there. He knew if he couldn't let it out now, he won't let it out ever. This was his only chance of being happy.

You were his only chance for happiness. He almost couldn't believe he thought letting you go because of his fear was the best decision.

He stupidly let you go, succumbing to the fear of dying while you wait for him. He knows better, he will do better,

For you. Because you're worth changing for, you're worth the risk.

—please don't hate me. I know I was an ass for leaving in the first place, baby, I am sorry. You loved me so much that it felt so good, I didn't know I'm capable of feeling that way, so I was scared that worse would come after. I'm not scared anymore. You looked at me like there's something in me worth looking at,

He felt like he was saying so much yet so little at the same time,

He had so much to tell you but very few words to express it. He needs to be with you. He needs to see you and physically explain to you just how much you mean to him.

—I won't waste it, love, not again. Please open the door for me when I get back.

He frowned, realizing once again just how idiotic he was. He knew he should not have done what he did, but it was over with. The only thing left to do is to make things right somehow.

—I've never been taught how to love, I have.. I don't— I'm not the best at it. I'm sorry baby, if I'm not loving you the right way, and for leaving just like that, but I promise I'll be better. you're worth the better of me, you're worth learning love for.

He needed you, and you needed him. That should have been enough reason to risk it.

—when I come back, please let me hold you. Please forgive me for making you feel like an option between my job. It's you. It's always been you. I love you, baby, wait for me. I'll make this right.

As the line cuts, the static sound fills the eerie room of yours. The very same room he had walked out from, the same room where you sat breathing hours ago. There were no other living sounds except for the occasional ticking of the clock.

There were no signs nor sounds of life perceived in the room. The silence was thick. With your lifeless body beside the bed in a fetal position, a bottle of used pills tightly wrapped around your hands. It was light, about three to four pills left inside a newly bought bottle.

It was dead silent as if the universe sympathized with you.

Allowing silence in regards to respect for what has passed, for what has ended.

﹑

“My family’s never been the typical joyous family, I guess that affected me, as a person in general.”

You explain, running your hand through his hair while his head laid on your lap. It’s one of those days where he’d be much affectionate compared to the majority of the time. He requested to hear about your childhood while he rests on you,

For a moment you felt your heart and breath hitch.

“I guess growing up in that kind of household really—really influenced my well-being. It's given me problems and worries I shouldn't have.” You were hesitant to continue, “Fear, I started having fears for a lot of things.”It's as if you caught a glimpse of his mind, taking in the details you've just given him.“Fears like?”

The moment the question reached your ears, he could see your body tense. He understood, and he doesn't plan on pushing it.“You don't have to answer that, my love.” he smiles, “No matter what it is you're scared of, let’s face it together, yeah? You have me. That's enough, I hope.”

Little did he know that fear was yet to come. The fear of leaving soon, the fear of being unable to keep going. How could you ever explain to him that you don't plan to stay long?

﹑

With a ragged breath from exhaustion, he dropped his things once again, the same way he did before he left. Facing your door yet again, panting as a feeling of discomfort plagued him, why exactly? He’s finally here. Why is he so distraught, he wondered.

“[name]?” he knocks,

Swallowing the lump in his throat, his voice strained, and his state dishevelled. “[name] please—it’s me, please answer.”

The lack of response made him think about just how angry he made you,

“I'm sorry,” he whispers,

“I know I was stupid and irrational. I won't do it again, petal, please open the door.”

To say he’s nervous would be an understatement. What would he do if you never find it in you to let him back into the comfort of your arms? Will he return to the familiar cold he had forgotten when he met you?

“[name] I love you.”

He desperately spoke, yearning for an answer; the smallest sign of acceptance.

It was odd. How quiet it was. Are you that mad? He wonders, but then again, he knew you’re not one to ignore, not even when you’re the angriest you've been. You would never shut him out, not ever. “[name], please, answer, or I'll have to go inside.”

“Baby are you okay?” no response.

Each passing second was like a countdown. He was uneasy and distraught. Afraid even.

The silence felt deafening. He was afraid of what? He had no clue what he was so afraid of, surely you're okay...

Right?

“[name], I'm coming in,” he says sternly, fishing the spare key he oh so gratefully forgot to give back. His heart thumps louder with each action.

The moment he entered, the creak of the door interrupted the silence. He felt like he was intruding on an abandoned space. It felt wrong. He knew something was wrong.

“[name]? I'm back, like—like I always am.” his voice broke, stepping inside, head looking around, hoping to find you and engulf you in his longing arms. “As I told you, I’ll always find my way back… right?”

He kept speaking while he walked, checking and opening every door. Starting from the small kitchen to the bathroom, checking everywhere until there was one room left. He dreaded it, for no reason he was scared and yet he rushed,

He spoke, no—he goes on a tangent,

“I'll take the month off. We’ll do anything you want, anything to make up for this. I promise we can even get a pet, I always say no, right? This time, I'll agree, anything for you, my love just—”

The silence rung,

Apart from the sound of the door opening by his force, there were no sounds made, not from him, not from anything. He simply stood, dumbfounded at what the room unveiled; at that moment, nothing mattered, not even the breath he had held unknowingly.

A ragged chuckle escaped his lips, though it was hollow. As if he was desperate to know that maybe this is all some sick prank. Maybe this was one of your silly games he always put up with, “Baby? What’s this? Why are you on the floor?”

“Jokes over [name] get up—”

When it all came to view, he was silenced. The second he stepped closer, he saw how your body lay lifeless, how you held that bottle, and how his eyes drifted onto the lone tear, which evidently dried along the hours.

How long have you been here?

In this state? How long has it been since you left him?

He couldn't feel. He couldn't grasp his head around the sight before him. He’s well familiar with death. He’s seen it before, and he’s lost comrades before, but nothing comes close to what lay in front of him.

How does one react when their lifeline lies lifeless before their very eyes?

He couldn't approach nor speak. He simply stood with weak knees, tempting to give out. It didn't take him long to crouch, eyes wide open with lips parted slightly. There were no tears, no emotions, the moment numbed him. It didn't feel like reality,

There he crouched, just a few steps away from you. It didn't feel like his heart dropped. It felt almost worse, as if you'd taken it with you. How could this have happened? Did he cause this?

If you had told him a day ago that he would witness the person he loved the most laying on the floor devoid of life, he would have laughed at your face, punching you even. This isn't reality. This isn't a reality he wants to face.

It took every courage in his body to bring himself closer to you, afraid of what more he’d discover. With slow steps, he drew closer, grabbing your hand was the first thing he thought of doing. “Oh god…” his voice broke,

Your body isn't as warm as it used to be,

Not as he remembered. The warmth he loved when he would hold you against him, it’s gone. You're gone.

He had felt countless of stiff lifeless bodies and yet yours hurt the most,

The mere thought of it destroyed him. It hasnt sinked in yet, but he could tell. He could tell his demise is near. The realization will hit him in a short while.

“Baby, im home…” this wasn't him. This was not his voice. Stuttering over the easiest words, strained with pent-up sobs. His chest felt heavy, almost making it difficult to breathe.

Yet with hitched breath, he picked up your limp body and placed you in his arms, crushing your icy body against him. He held you tightly, but his hands cradled your body tenderly. It was as if he’s afraid of hurting you more.

Ghost was forever fearless, always facing whatever challenge was given to him, even his mortal enemy would know that he isnt necessarily the easiest solder to crack, let alone destroy and yet he finds himself sat on the floor holding the lifeless frame of his lover,

Cradling whatever is left of you,

Desperately holding onto what he can possibly hold on to.

The lieutenant everyone looked up on, admired and viewed as an admirable man, sat on the floor with a weighing heart. Holding back the tears that had formed without his knowledge as he held your body,

but right now, he wasn't lieutenant simon ‘ghost’ riley.

At this moment, he was just simon, the simon you loved desperately, the simon who loved you just as insanely.

This person right this moment was your simon,

He wasnt anyone else, he was yours.

As he sat on the hard cold floor, thoughts roaming with his heart screaming, he felt like a mess, but that didn't matter. Words can not describe the regret, remorse, and stupidity he felt,

If i didnt leave,

If i didn't walk out that door,would you still have been alive in my arms?Would i still have to hold you soulless?

He held you closer, bringing you closer to him, as close as possible. He felt nothing but regret, nothing but anger for himself. Why is it that the very grief he tried to protect you from, the same reason he left, the same grief he avoided you to feel, why is it that he’s feeling it now?

His ragged sobs filled the room, and the rest remained still as if everything sympathized for him. As if the world understood the hurt he carried. He sobs, holding onto you as if doing so would bring you back. He knew nothing well, and yet he foolishly cried, hoping you’ll hear him and come back to ease the pain.

Like you always did.

At the corner of his eyes, he saw the letters piled not far from them. Without standing, nor letting go of you, he reached for it. Reading the names addressed on each, until he sees the one for him.

Of all the few letters he saw, his was the only one with tear drops which ruined the ink in front, almost unable to read, he brought it closer, dropping the rest.

Simon,

I felt everything.

Thank you, and im sorry,

I love you :)

Swallowing the impossibly heavy lump on his throat, he opened the carefully folded letter. He was met with even more tear drops. The thought of you crying, alone, while you write him a letter to bid him goodbye, crushed his soul.

He cant imagine a greater pain,

It felt surreal.

How could I..

How could I have lost you this easily.

With his blurry vision, he starts to read—well—attempt to. With every sentence, every punctuation, every meaning of your words, all of it felt like a slap to reality.

How could he have not seen?

How did he not notice? Not paying attention to what you were going through? How could he have been so careless as to leave you all alone.

The very fear you spoke of,

He did just exactly what your family had done.

If anybody could have saved me,

it would have been you.

He read the part over and over again, allowing your words to cut through his heart repeatedly. He left you, and yet, at the end of the day, you still see him as someone—the only one who could save you.

Despite the war inside your mind,

Inside your mind and unwavering emotions, which he hadn't bothered to unveil, he remained the most important person.

May it be in your chaotic mind or the furthest crevices of your heart, he remained on both.

He read it all,

Understanding every single thing you failed to say in person,

Everything you failed to say while you still lived.

It hurts even more. He thought nothing could be more painful when he saw you laying lifeless. But having to read what you wanted to say,

How sorry you were, how thankful you are to him, and how he made you feel.

It was surely another cut to an already existing wound. His mind flashed memories while he went over the tear stained letter you left.

He remembered everything as if they were as fresh as yesterday. When you first smiled at him, when you first held hands, when your lips first touched.

Your words were true. The story of you really is short-lived. But he couldn't help but think about the what If's

If he stayed,

If he hadn't walked out,

If he ignored his fear of abandoning you,

If he hadn't been so stupid and cowardly.

He gave up, and the heavy lump on the throat overcame him, letting the sting linger for as long as eternity. He read the last words on the letter, with a loud sob, with repeated pleads.

Repeatedly apologising, repeatedly begging for you to come back so he could fix things so everything could return to normal,

So you could return.

A childish wish. A high-ranking soldier held the lifeless body of his lover all while he begs for them to come back.

"I'm so sorry." He whispers, voice too broken to speak normally. "I'm sorry for not noticing."

"I'm sorry you had to be alone."

"I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He repeats over and over again, holding you against him.

At the back of the letter, he could barely see the words written with how blurry the tears clouded his eyes.

Thank you for making me feel.

The words only crushed him even more, sobbing and crying harder to no avail.

"[name]..." He whispers, holding you close. "Did it hurt? I'm sorry, it must have been so hard."

"I'm sorry."

"I'm so sorry for not being here you."

He apologized, wishing he could have been with you. To convince you otherwise, wishing he could have been here to avoid this,

To avoid losing you.

Wishing he could have stayed to keep making you feel.

The thoughts of your words before he left suddenly entered his mind,

"Can I hug you?"

"One last time?"

Now it all makes sense why you looked so serene, why you looked so accepting. Why did you have that small smile on your lips,

You were bidding him goodbye.

That really was the final hug.

The final touch he'd ever get, the final living affection he would get from you.

He holds you now, but it wasn't the same, not even close. Back then, you were smiling and breathing, but now you're no different to an inanimate object. Stiff and cold, this is the person he loved so dearly?

It ached.

And it ached painfully.

The type of ache to never go away, the type of ache he'd keep forever.

The type of ache he'll willingly embrace,

As he held you that night, mourning for what could've been, mourning for someone beyond saving.

This was the ache he'd willingly feel forever,

If it means having you in his mind and heart. He would willingly hurt himself by keeping that ache if it means keeping you in his deceased heart forever.

As the remnant of your memories roamed the room, your presence which now passed, the scent of yours he dearly craved. It left a sillage pain to remember,

You left a sillage worth remembering.

"I'll keep you in my heart,

Even if that damage me,

Even if it kills me.

I'll keep you safe forever."

1K notes · View notes

nsharks · 5 months

Text

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part thirteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

"Twix."

Blue says your name in a single exhale of relief. You didn't expect her to be awake. She sits with her legs outstretched by a barely-there fire as you enter the cabin, the busted door groaning shut behind you. Fatigue sinks you to the floor beside her. You're about to curl your numb hands within the long sleeves of your new jacket, but the burn on your fingers makes you wince from the friction.

“You're filthy." She reaches for your hand, gently inspecting the burn. "And someone hurt you."

"Well, technically, I hurt them."

Blue shakes her head, the tone of her voice hardening the moment she drops your hand. "You shouldn't have gone."

"It was important—"

"It was stupid. You saw how those guys tried to kill us!" She huffs out a breath before snapping her gaze back to the flames. "You... you didn't tell me you were leaving. You didn't even say goodbye. I just woke up and you were gone.”

"I didn't want to wake you this morning because you needed rest,” you reason.

"That's a shitty excuse," she grumbles back, gesturing to the pink bracelet on her wrist. "I may not have a lot of friends, but I do know they're supposed to tell each other things like this."

Your eyes trail down from the burnt skin on your fingers, red and bubbly, to the cheap, plastic beads encompassing your wrist.

"You're right," you speak softly. "I should have told you."

A few minutes lapse in thick silence. In the midst of it, you swallow a few chalky pills to help with all the pain. You've been conservative in using them so far, but with your additional score of medicine, you figure you can afford some relief. There's no way you'll be able to sleep with your bitten wrist throbbing incessantly.

You're about to lean against the wall and let your eyes flutter shut when Blue speaks again, this time her voice so quiet you wonder if you're imagining it.

"You know, I was excited to go on this trip," she whispers, still looking at the fire. "I even secretly hoped we'd run into other people, just because—" she pauses to swallow, "—because I never get to meet any. And the ones we have met, my dad always kills. Except for you."

She drags her sleeve over her face and it’s now you notice she is crying. A knot forms in your throat and, after the day you've had, you struggle to find the right words.

"He kills them for a reason," you settle on, voice equally hushed. "A lot of people are—"

"A threat, I know." Blue repeats the words like a bitter mantra, then looks at her bandaged leg. "What does it feel like?" she asks after a moment, sliding her glossy eyes to yours. “Killing a person. Ghost told me it feels just like killing an animal or a Grey."

You inhale, then fix your stare to the dark ceiling. "No— I don't think it feels the same. It's much worse. I still get sick from it,” you admit.

"How many have you killed?"

"I don't remember anymore, but not that many." Certainly not as many as Ghost has. "It was always in self-defense. Always because I had to."

"I wish nobody ever had to," she says.

"I know. Me, too.”

With a sigh, she carefully scoots closer to you. "I'm sorry for getting mad. I just want to go home.”

"Don't be sorry. I’m the one who is sorry." You shake your head and offer her a shoulder until both of you have your backs against the wall. Her hair tickles your cheek. A small hand slips around your waist in a tender embrace, her fingers latching onto the fabric of the jacket. The sore muscles of your core flex instinctively from the touch before you finally force yourself to relax. It’s just Blue.

"Your dad says we're going back tomorrow,” you whisper, jaw grazing the crown of her head. “Sleep. It'll be a long day again."

"A long day for you maybe," she murmurs against your shoulder. "I get to ride on his back."

"Lucky you." You drape the heavy blanket over your bodies. Together you are warmer, if only by a little.

Deft wind whooshes through the trees, kissing your wet skin. Splotches of wriggling orange and red follow the water's current, along with a trail of brown muck as you scrub your breasts, hair, and cheeks. The sight of fish makes your stomach grumble. It's been far too long since you've had anything but squirrel and deer and berries, but this is not the time or place to ponder a way to catch one. The blue wash of early morning lightens with each second that passes. You wring out your hair, rewrap your wrist, and put your clothes back on before carefully climbing up the slope, satisfied enough with your icy bath.

"Ready," you announce, blowing a white breath into your hands and rubbing them together. Ghost crouches down so Blue can teeter onto his back. The backpack full of ammo hugs his front. He appears exceptionally bulky with all the baggage, and yet, he makes it look effortless.

Together, you head towards the infamous bridge, if one could call it that. Silvery fog makes it hard to see more than ten meters ahead of you, but Ghost seems to have the area memorized. Your hands ball up in your pockets, feeling empty and useless. With no bow, you have to rely on Ghost to get you back. It's a weird thing. Though, you suppose if there's anyone you'd want to be stuck out here with, it would be him. His presence alone offers more safety than the measly knife around your ankle.

"Ghost, we should go behind her," Blue says when you reach the beam.

He steps aside to allow you on first. "Try not to go for a swim this time."

A flush of pink bites your cheeks, though you blame it on the cold. It's hard to believe just four days ago you slipped off this thing. With his hands preoccupied, Ghost can't hold onto your shoulders like before, but he lingers close behind and repeatedly orders you to keep your eyes on the bank.

Once you're all across, a calm quiet settles, a vast contrast to how talkative Blue was the first time around. It makes you absentmindedly pick the skin around your nails. By the time you reach the road, you've looked behind your shoulder at least ten times, half-expecting to spot a burnt face hiding among the trees. Squirrels prattle by. A starling calls above your head. But no people. You force your eyes onward and take a deep breath.

"So, uh, would you rather get mauled by a bear," you break the silence, stepping over a stray tire, "—or be struck by lightning?"

It takes a second for Blue to respond. "Oh. That's a good one. Do I have a gun while the bear attacks me?"

"No. No weapons. Just you and the bear."

"Then lightning." She pats Ghost's shoulder. "Could you take a bear?"

"On a good day, maybe," he answers.

"What about you, Twix?"

"No," you instantly scoff, kicking at a rock. "A bear would rip me apart. I would choose lightning because it'd be quick."

"Okay, I have one," Blue quips. "Would you rather be ripped in half, or fall off a tall building?"

"Ripped in half by what?" Ghost asks, tilting his head back.

"It doesn't matter." You can hear the roll of her eyes.

"It does matter. Might change my answer."

"Fall off a building," you interject. "The way down would suck, but I bet you don't feel a thing once you hit the ground."

"But you'd look like a dead bug," says Blue.

"I don't care what I look like. I'll be dead."

Ghost clears his throat. "My turn, then."

"No! You have to pick one," she exclaims.

"Building," he drawls. A shadow of movement passes to the right of you. You naturally flinch closer to them, but it's just a doe hunkering down tall weeds that reach out of the concrete. A chuff of breath leaves your lips as you look away, only to find Ghost staring at you. For a few seconds, his eyes flicker between you and the deer before he goes back to focusing straight ahead.

"Would you rather," he begins, "—chop off all your fingers, or take out your own eyes?"

"What do I use to take out my eyes?" Blue asks.

"Knife."

"I guess my eyes," she winces. "I mean, I'd rather get rid of two things than ten."

They both glance at you expectantly. A frigid gust of northern air takes hold of your hair, so you tuck the unruly strands behind your ears. "Uh, fingers," you decide after a moment. "I could probably live without them."

In the village, the air stinks enough for Ghost to come to a halt. Before, he was able to pass right through. This time, a group of fourteen or fifteen Greys seems to be trapped on the main street between a crumbled wall and a fallen telephone pole. He has to decide between expending ammo or time. It's not long before he nods to a small building and the three of you scale the rusted fire escape. From the safe distance of the roof, he takes out the Greys one by one with an accuracy that barely leaves a dent in the ample stockpile of cartridges. With the route cleared, he's saved at least an hour or two of precious daylight.

The fog lifts. The ambery sun tries to peek through the clouds, but the sky is bent on staying grey. By the time you are back, your blisters have blisters. Blue has fallen asleep, cheek smushed against the back of Ghost's neck. Relief, thick and palpable, tastes sweet on your tongue. The fence, the rabbit hutch, the much-cozier cabin; none of it is home to you, but still, it calls your name in a welcoming coo.

You have to aim Ghost's flashlight so he can unlock the gate. Blue stirs, but her eyes remain closed even when he pushes inside the cabin. It's shrouded in darkness. You prop the flashlight on the table as his boots scuffle against the floor.

He puts her to bed. As he does, you feel around for the sofa and nearly choke when your worn fingertips graze shabby fabric. Not icy water or solid wood or muddy ground, but something soft. You're about to sink into it, your bones desperate for the springy cushions, when he returns to the threshold of the hallway with an ugly, flannel sheet in his hands.

"Here."

It's hard to be certain if you thank him or not; your brain conjures up the words, but your voice doesn't seem to function quite right. One thing is certain: you accept the sheet, tuck it on with urgency, and then lay down, burying your face in the crook of the pillow and arm. You kick off your boots and let the darkness take you, swift and heavy. It could be a coma or death disguised as sleep, and you figure you'd still slip into it without fuss.

Those first days back are quiet. Blissfully uneventful. You sleep and sleep. In fact, you don't move from the couch except to relieve yourself and eat a little. Ghost and Blue don't seem to do much, either. Or maybe you just don't notice.

At one point, you wake up to a small stack of shirts beside the couch. All black. One long sleeve, the rest short. You change into one and continue sleeping.

At another point, Blue hovers above you with a whisper that draws out a groan from you. "Hey. Ghost is making me skin some rabbits. Apparently, it's the only chore I can't get out of. Do you want to help me?"

"I think I'm good." You stuff the pillow over your face to make your point.

"You've been sleeping for three days, you know."

"I could go for another three."

She takes the hint and staggers away. Walking now. You hear her right leg drag a little.

The sleep is good until it's not.

On the fifth night, you're no longer fatigued enough to keep the dreams squandered. They start as whispers. Hoarse and gritty. Then they get louder and louder, shouting your name until they are so loud it feels like someone is screaming in your ear. Different voices blend into an indecipherable cacophony. One screams in pain; another in anger. You feel someone's cold fingers take hold of your neck and are finally pried awake, flying up against the couch with fiery pants burning through your lungs. But all that's there is a dark room.

Sweat clings to every inch of you. It feels like everything is on fire, and all you want to do is cool down. You haven't bathed since the river. Catching your breath, you swing your legs down and quietly pad to the bathroom where you hope a little water is left. Luckily, in the glint of moonlight, you find a bucket used for washing hands and scoop some to your face. Then, you comb it through your sweat-laced hair.

You unwrap your wrist and brush your fingers over the bite. You dab some water on it. You can't see well, but you feel the constellation of congealed scabs beneath your fingertips. Scars. Wounds. Your nostrils flare as a you wonder if one day you'll be so covered in them you won't even look like yourself. It's a good thing there is not enough light to spot the reflection of your face in the mirror, because you're not thrilled to greet the one now on your brow.

On your way out of the bathroom, something solid and immobile blocks your path. You startle backward, sucking in air as you peer up at a masked face. Ghost. It's Ghost. You haven't spoken to him since getting back, and in this moment, you long for the ability to push past him, but his wide shoulders consume the narrow hall.

It's silly to think you can avoid him when you sleep in the same space now. The thing is— you have no idea what to think of him. Before, it was easy to settle on fear of how easily he could snap your neck, and annoyance for how he treated you. And then, when forced to, you could engage in a pragmatic conversation about how to keep yourselves alive.

But now, you don't know what you are supposed to feel around him, and you have spent zero time reflecting on it so far.

"Sorry. I was just, uh, washing my face."

"In the middle of the night?" he rasps, tilting his gaze down.

You teeter back a step, keeping a healthy bubble of space between your bodies. You're not sure why he hasn't just moved out of the way, or what he would be up and about for at this hour, but briefly, you wonder if he is suspicious of you. If after everything you went through, he still thinks you're trying to do something and might send you back to the shed. The three of you relieve yourself outside the cabin since the plumbing doesn't work, so it certainly does seem odd that you'd be in the bathroom during the night.

"I was sweating a lot." Inwardly, you curse at yourself. "I mean, I haven't bathed since we got back, and I..." You trail off in a whisper.

"And you what?"

"I don't know." You fiddle with the hem of the oversized shirt he gave you. "I'm not trying to kill you or your daughter in your sleep, though, if that's what you're thinking."

He simply stares at you. It feels like he can see right through you, and your eyes drop to your wool socks. Then, he murmurs, “I wasn't thinking that."

"Okay," you reply carefully. "Could you... please move, then?"

Finally, he steps out of the way, but you feel the burn of his eyes on your skin as you brush past him.

"Twix."

You pause, looking back. "Yes?"

A shake of his head. And then: "Take a proper bath tomorrow. You could use it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Will do."

With that, you crawl back onto the couch.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #cod #ghost #simon ghost riley x reader #zombie apocolypse au

1K notes · View notes

fcthots · 7 months

Note

thinking abt wearing jason's initial on a necklace but in a taylor swift kind of way

-🕷️

THIS THIS THIS CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT

I WANT TO WEAR HIS INITIAL ON A CHAIN ROUND MY NECK CHAIN ROUND MY NECK NOT BC HE OWNS ME BUT CAUSE HE REALLY KNOWS ME WHICH IS MORE THAN THEY CAN SAY-

ANYWAy

Here's the thing about the fucking press, since the moment they found out Jason was alive, they've never let him breathe. Your relationship went public against your will only two months after he was declared legally alive. Since then the opinion on your relationship had fluctuated. Sometimes there were fan accounts and other times you were sent death threats. Jason did what he could, but he couldn't stop everything.

The worst that happened was when you went with some friends. It was just dinner on a balcony at a nice restaurant. Jason had gone to some concert with one of his siblings. To be honest, you were too drunk to remember which. You were out with three friends two of you were drunk. The birthday boy doesn’t like to drink, but he gave the ok for everyone else. One other friend stayed sober and offered to be the designated driver.

You're solidly drunk. Drunk enough to actually be excited to take pictures. Drunk enough to be laughing the whole time. Drunk enough to try to call your cat on the phone.

Either way, you're singing happy birthday while your friends are taking pictures so you lean over to kiss the birthday boy's cheek and tell him "HappsyBirthay!" He laughs and thanks you. It's a good time. Your other drunk friend kisses him on the other cheek and takes a picture of it on his phone. It's cute. It's fun. But it is 11:30 pm and time to go home.

You're about to get in the designated driver's car when he asks for your address. You don’t invite people over much, what with Jason having to go on patrol and bloody bats dropping in. You're also drunk enough to not know your address. "That's a relly diffisult queshion. Do you know the answer?" You look over to the birthday boy; he's been to your apartment a few times to have lunch and feed the cat.

He looks over at the designated driver. "I don’t know the address, but I know to get there... Don't worry about it. I'll take her home."

"We goin home?"

He laughs. "Yeah."

"Holy shit! Is Jason gunna be there?" He puts his arm around your waist to guide you into his car so you don’t fall.

"I don’t know. You said he was going out tonight, but I don’t know if he's back yet." He laughs again and waves goodbye to your other friends before he buckles himself into the driver's seat.

The car ride home is mostly quiet. You're half asleep, and it's not long until your friend is pulling into the parking garage. He taps your shoulder and asks for your key. You don’t know where it is. He asks for your phone. You hand it over, and he asks Siri to call Jason.

Jason picks up after half a ring.

"Hello?"

"Hey, man. It's me. We're in the parking garage and your wonderful girlfriend is too drunk to find her keys. Any chance you're home."

You hear Jason's voice ask something about articles, news, and pictures before you fall asleep again.

A few minutes pass and someone's calling your name and unbuckling your seatbelt. You look over and see Jason leaning over you.

"J'son!"

"Hey, sweetheart."

"I missd you." He grabs your bag off the floor.

"I missed you too. Hey can you give me your phone?"

You nod your head and hand him the phone.

"I'm gonna pick you up. Ready?"

"Yeah!" He lifts you up while you shout "Weeeee!"

He closes the car with his shoe and turns toward your friend. "Thanks, man. Happy Birthday. Sorry about everything."

"'s no problem. Take care of her. Bye."

You don’t remember much of the elevator ride up or getting in pajamas or getting in bed. But you remember waking up. That wasn't fun.

Jason makes you breakfast, and that in itself isn't out of the ordinary at all, but he's acting weird. Every time you ask for your phone he says "I'll give it to you in a minute."

You can't take it anymore. "Jay, just tell me what happened. You're killing me. Did I post anything dumb while drunk again?"

"No." He sighs and grabs your phone out his pocket before opening up an article. You take your phone from him and read the headline. You feel sick.

"Jason Todd and Girlfriend Broke Up! Finally She's Gone"

You take a bite of eggs off Jason's plate and keep reading.

"Here's the evidence:

"nobody's heard from the couple for months, not even so much as an instagram post from the once vocal couple

"Todd was seen last night at a concert singing his heart out to breakup songs, images below

"and most damning of all: the now would-be ex-girlfriend was spotted last night getting cozy and leaving with new man, exclusive photos below!"

You scroll and see zoomed in photos of you kissing your friend's cheek and getting into his car. You bang your forehead into the counter repeatedly. Jason puts his hand over the spot you're hitting your head against. You look to him and he looks apologetic.

"I'd prefer if you didn’t read the rest. I don’t think Vicki Vale likes you very much. I'm having Bruce sue the company right now."

You try to hit your head into the table again and he grabs your cheek to stop you. He leaves his hand there. This time, you look apologetic.

"I'm sorry. It just makes me upset when people think I don’t love you or that you don’t love me." You meet his eyes and he's smiling.

"I had an idea."

He pulls two small boxes from his pockets and you stop yourself from making a comment about the size of men's pockets. Before you have the time to freak out, questioning what's in the boxes, he opens them. They're necklaces with the initials of your first names. He takes the one with your initial and puts it around his neck. The chain on his is longer than the other one.

"Obviously you don’t have to, I just had a feeling you might want to. I'm not trying to put a brand on you-"

You cut him off with a kiss.

"I'm never taking it off."

#saph’s love letters #jason todd #saph’s thots #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #🕷️ anon #hurt/comfort #fluff #angst #Jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader fluff #I stopped beta-ing my stuff at some point. I apologize. I just hate reading my own stuff

648 notes · View notes

findmeinforks · 8 months

Text

Not Letting You Go Easy - Part 2

Hello friends!! So sorry this took so long. Let me know what you think :) 2.5K Words ❤️

You gasped as you woke, breathing heavy before squinting your eyes at the Florida sun.

It was just a nightmare. The sharp red eyes. The blood spilling. The agonizing clutch of a hand on your throat....just a nightmare.

You must have dozed off, the sound of the waves and thoughts of first meeting Paul putting you in a relaxing slumber. But there was nothing relaxing about what you dreamt up. As you adjusted to sit up, everything started to vanish in your mind. You tried hard to remember the details, but within a minute it was all gone.

Yet you couldn't shake the feeling of fear.

Leaning over to gaze inside the house, you made eye contact with Edward. The man always looked uneasy, but the expression on his face was...different. That's when it clicked.

He read your thoughts. He watched everything.

"Well good morning sleepy head, this weather is just too peaceful not to nap, isn't it?" Your mother beamed from the other side of you, making you turn your head.

"Yep. It's the best. I'm uhhh, gonna go grab a drink." You tried to sound as normal as possible, making a beeline for the door. As soon as the latch clicked in place on on the other side, you faced him.

"What did you see." You said, more so demanded. "I don't know what you're talking about." He swallowed, looking elsewhere now to avoid your hard stare.

"Come on Edward. I know just as much as Bella and I must say, I am more entitled to my own thoughts than you are." You crossed your arms. That made him crack a small smile. "You are more entitled than me, yes. It's just a nightmare. Bella used to have them when I left. They don't always mean something.." He tried to say nonchalantly.

For being alive for hundreds of years, you'd think he'd be better at lying.

You huffed. "I beg to differ. All this supernatural shit isn't just a fantasy anymore." He nodded in agreement. "It's unrealistic, I know. But I do think it was just a nightmare." You narrowed your eyes. "If myself or my sister were in danger, you'd tell us...right?" He hesitated. Pausing for a moment. "I will always protect you both and Charlie." You nodded, turning your back to head for the refrigerator. You weren't going to argue the fact that he didn't answer your question.

Whatever it was, you'd have to find answers from someone else.

- - -

Your back pressed against the kitchen counter as you were trapped in a strong embrace. Heat took over your body, Paul burying his face in your neck. His strong hands roamed every crevice of your body he could. He held you as if his grip loosening would have you slip away. You giggled when he peppered your face with kisses, inhaling your scent like he hadn't had oxygen in days.

"So how much did you miss me?" You teased as he moved his hands up to cup your face, kissing you with every ounce of passion he could muster. He rested his forehead on yours. "I could spend the rest of my life showing you." You could feel your cheeks turn bright red.

"GAGGG!" You jumped at Jared's loud introduction when he entered the house, making him and Quil who had followed snicker.

"Scare my girlfriend like that again Jared and I'll kick your ass." Paul said with a glare. Jared threw his hands up in defense with a mouth full of food.

You whipped your head to look at Paul again. "Girlfriend?"

It was Paul's turn to blush. While it was quite obvious that you two were together, and imprints, you were nervous to call him your boyfriend. The relationship was going what felt perfectly and you didn't want to screw up anything by labeling it too fast.

After all, he only imprinted on you two months ago, and had never been in a relationship before. Emily had told you in private that he would never even mention a girls name, because no one ever became more than a hook up. You also learned that he never believed he would find his imprint. He had a raging temper that apparently subsided a lot once he found you.

The pack, though teasing, was grateful for that.

You had become closer with Emily the past few weeks. Kim as well. They helped you understand imprinting, and navigating their crazy lifestyle. They were a good confidants, and you looked up to both like sisters. Bella was okay and all, but since finding Edward your relationship had grown distant. No hard feelings for that anymore, not when you had this second family.

Before either of the boys could make a comment at Paul's redden cheeks, Sam's loud voice boomed from the front door.

"Boys, I need you in the yard. We have something we need to discuss." Sam looked around, and held your gaze for what felt like longer than everyone else. You could feel Paul stiffen.

"I'll be right back baby," he quickly pecked your forehead before running after the others outside.

Emily and Kim watched them pass as they came in with groceries. They both smiled seeing you. "Boy are we glad you're back. Paul was getting a little too cranky," Kim laughed. You did too, helping them start to put everything away. It was silent for a few minutes before Kim said what you were already thinking.

"What was that all about with Sam? Sounded serious."

Both your eyes went to Emily who had a somber expression, different from her usual positive and bubbly attitude. She sighed.

"I don't know any specifics yet. I can sense when he's worried and, well, I just don't have a good feeling." She said.

"Do you think it's the red head that they've been after?" Kim offered, and you froze.

"I do. I'm just hoping they can actually work with the Cullens. The more help they have against her the better."

"What red head?"

Now both of them looked at you.

"Paul didn't....he didn't tell you?" Kim whispered, like it was now a secret.

"No. He did not. Please, someone enlighten me."

Kim and Emily shared a look.

Emily shrugged, "Someone has too," before you all made your way to the table.

Emily poured you coffee, and explained that Victoria was in the area. Immediately, you remembered she was part of the rogue trio that tried to hunt down your sister. You learned that she had been heading to your house every night, multiple times a week. The wolves and the Cullens have tried to hold her off, but she won't stop until she has revenge.

The more details you were told, the angrier you were.

That's what your dream was about. It wasn't just 'some nightmare'.

You expected Edward to keep things hush. You expected that if Bella knew, she'd probably keep it from you too. But Paul? Never. You told each other everything. You had even remembered making him promise to always be honest with you. With all the craziness you now knew about this world, you thought the least he would do is be open with you. Especially when it quite literally involved you. Keeping you in the dark when even the other girls knew was bullshit, and you were fuming.

Emily must have noticed the change in your behavior. "I'm so sorry he didn't tell you Y/N. But just know he probably did it to protect you."

You shook your head, tears welling up in your eyes in frustration. You hated crying in front of other people. Especially when you weren't sad, you were pissed.

"I appreciate it but trust is just a big thing for me. Jared told you. Sam told you. I mean, for god's sake my SISTER is the one this pyscho is after." You threw up your hands scoffing.

The girls both nodded their heads in agreement, Emily rubbed your arm.

"Im gonna head out. I really don't want to see him right now.."

Emily grabbed my elbow. "Now wait a minute. You're allowed to do what you want but please, don't stay at your house. I don't have a good feeling about it..."

"Okay. I'll call my sister."

Much to your relief, Alice saw everything that had happened in a vision, and it was actually Bella that called you first.

She told you that you were welcome to stay at the Cullens house for the night, and apologized for not telling you about the situation. You snorted when she said she had assumed Paul would fill you in.

What a joke that was.

You were half way to the house when your phone started erupting with the missed calls from Paul. It didn't stop. One call after another. A few texts in between. You didn't even read them, rolling your eyes and making the decision to just turn it off.

One thing Paul didn't know, was that when you're upset you just need space. You knew it wasn't a huge deal, but you were angry he didn't tell you. You felt like a child that everyone knew except for you. Like you couldn't handle it. You told yourself you just needed a good nights sleep and you'd call him in the morning.

Or so you thought.

You drove down the windy back road that led to the Cullen house. You've driven this road plenty of times, but goosebumps arose on your skin at the darkness. It wasn't until now that you realized you'd only ever come during the day, and there was little to nothing guiding you except the headlights of your car.

From afar you started to notice a small figure right in the middle of the road. It didn't seem to be moving so you slowed down, driving closer for a better look.

At first glance you thought your mind was playing tricks on you, but pulling up you were able to make out the deer that laid slain in the road. You sighed of relief, then cringed.

Really, they can't clean up after they eat?

There was no way to get around it on the tiny road, so you reached over to grab your phone and call Bella.

In no way were you getting out of your car in the middle of this spookville.

You managed to turn your phone on, and-

BANG!

The phone flew out of your hand as you covered your head.

What the HELL was that?

You took a minute to breathe, ears on high alert and eyes shut preparing for the worst.

It was silent.

So silent you could hear yourself breathe. You slowly uncovered your head, opening your eyes to look around. It was when you looked up that your stomach dropped.

The roof had a ginormous dent in it. Before you could process any sort of thought, your driver door was ripped from its hinges. You whipped your head to come face to face with....her. You didn't have to know what she looked like to know who it was.

You went open your mouth but nothing came out. You couldn't scream, couldn't talk, could not even move. You were paralyzed in your seat.

It was when you finally found some semblance of your voice that she grabbed your head, slamming it against the car, knocking you out cold.

Paul couldn't stop pacing. As soon as the call would go to voicemail, he'd hang up and call again.

How could he have been so stupid? The promise he made played over and over in his head.

'I'll always be honest with you.' 'We're in this together.'

He knew he should have told her once Jared and Sam filled their imprints in. But he didn't want to lose her. In a couple of months her world had turned upside down, and it was shocking enough that she stayed upon knowing who he was. What he could be. But then to have her immediately be a target of danger? He was too scared to see her reaction.

But this one was worse.

"Just relax dude, she'll get over it and call you back. She's not gonna answer if you keep blowing her up." Quil rolled his eyes as he went for a muffin.

Paul stopped mid pace, staring daggers at him.

"Shut the FUCK up, Quil."

Before he lunged or phased right there in the kitchen, Sam stormed in from the room with Jared right behind.

"What is going on?"

"Paul's going nuts because Y/N hasn't answered his calls." Embry said simply, Quil too afraid to say anything and get his ass kicked.

Emily got up to stand in the middle, "She was on her way to the Cullens house.."

Jared and Sam's eyes widened.

"WHY?!?" Sam barked, making Kim who sat at the table wince. Emily rested her hand on Kim's shoulder.

"She found out about Victoria. She was upset Paul didn't tell her and-"

" AND YOU LET HER GO ALONE? WHY DIDNT YOU TELL ANY OF US?" Sam's voice remained loud and angry.

Quil and Embry now shared a worried glance at Paul, who looked completely disheveled, breathing heavily.

"I-I don't know I just hadnt heard about her in the area in a couple of days and Bella is aware she's coming there so-" Emily's eyes started to well with tears and she realized how stupid it was to let Y/N leave on her own.

Sams ringtone cut the tension in a room.

"Hello?" Sams face froze. He looked at Paul.

"We'll be right there."

---

Here I go again making it a series 😅 Part 3 anyone?

#imagine #paul lahote #sam uley #twilight #bella swan #edward cullen #embry call #jacob black #new moon #quil ateara #paul lahote x reader #emily young #sam uley x reader #eclipse #breaking dawn #fanfic

472 notes · View notes

scarthefangirl · 10 months

Text

A fix ~ Admit it Pt 2

Hobie Brown x fem!reader

Description: You and Hobie can't be together, its not canon. But he is determined to find a way. Part 1

Warnings: Language, Hobie breaking into your house lmao

Story type: Series

A/N: Sorry this is so short, comment or request if I should do a part three!! I know its not that good I'm sorry

Part 1 |

Masterlist | REQUESTS OPEN

I feel so small as Miguel stands here in his office, telling me off. I wish I could shrink away and disappear. I already know what a screw up I am.

"How am I supposed to fix this Y/N?" He screams and I let my warm tears stream down my face as I hiccup the tears away.

"I'm sorry." I whisper, unable to say anything else. He just stares at me with so much rage it makes me cry harder.

"I tried to help you! I tried to tell you. Now what am I to do?" He shouts but instead of yelling back, telling him I already know, or storming out I just run into his arms and cry into him. He is taken aback and doesn't reciprocate the hug.

"Y/N-" he starts but I just hug tigher. He sighs and loosely puts his arms around me, patting my head gently. Although he's very tense, I appreciate the pity hug.

"It's all my fault." I hiccup and pull away from him. I can't look him in the eyes, so I stare at the floor in shame.

"Listen, I like you kid. That's why instead of kicking you out I warned you again and again. But you messed up, I can't save you now." He says sharply and I try to suck in my sobs.

"There has to be something we can do." I tell him while breathing rapidly to keep in the sobs. "One kiss can't make my universe collapse." I try to convince him, but really myself. I love Hobie, but I didn't mean to end my life. My shoulders slump as I remember the kiss. It was so amazing, and I kick myself for getting butterflies just thinking about it.

"It can." He growls. I feel myself slump even further, sniffling.

"Please, I just want to date a boy and have my universe. Can't I have both?"

"No." He snaps. "I'm sorry but I'm going to have to ask for your watch Y/N."

"Please, don't! I promise I'll end everything with him. I won't do anything to jeopardize the arachno-humanoid poly multiverse," I say the name slowly, having a hard time recalling his name for it. Then I just plainly add, "Please,"

"Don't make this harder kid, hand me the watch and I'll walk you to the device that'll send you home. I have to figure out how to clean up your mess so you are now under an extended break.."

"Please Miguel, I need this job. This is like, all I have," I cry.

"You should've thought of that. Now hand it over, you are relinquished from your duties here."

I just stare at him for a bit. I can't do it. I can't give this up, it's my life. Saving people is what i do, and with this job I could save even more.

But, despite myself, hand over the device on my wrist and he sends me home.

I didn't even get to say goodbye to anyone.

I sit up in shock and jerk to the corner of my bed, having been suddenly woken up by someone shaking me. I pant, trying to catch my breath as I slowly register who is lurking around in my room in the dead of night.

Hobie Brown.

"What are you doing?!" I exclaim, still breathing heavily. My racing heart isn't just from surprise anymore, but also from his presence that I've been lacking for the last few days. Avoiding him was easier when I still saw him and worked with him.

"You haven't been at work for four days," He says blankly. He is looking right into my eyes and I look back, but I don't know how to explain. A cool breeze blows through the window that is open from Hobie's entry way. He's been to my apartment before, so I suppose he knows his way around.

"Wow, how observant," I roll my eyes but immediately feel a pang of guilt in my chest for the attitude. It is meant to be sarcastic but it just makes me sound bitchy. He glares at me and I feel myself melting under his stare. "What are you doing here? In my room, in the night time, scaring me half to death?" I ask. He shouldn't be here. We can't do this anymore, and really we never should have.

"You owe me an explanation." He replies plainly. I stare at him for a moment, eyes widened, before looking down at my lap and nervously play with my blanket.

"I know," I grimace. I scoot to the side of my bed and sit up completely then cross my legs so I'm sitting criss cross. He sits down next to me with his feet to the floor, staring at me. I feel my heart beating rapidly and a sinking feeling of guilt in my chest down to my stomach.

"I'm listening," He chuckles but something about it makes the sinking feeling worse, my stomach doing summersalts. I open my mouth to speak, but I can't find the words to explain. How can I make him understand? "Okay, I'll recap for you. You pretended not to like me than finally we kissed, than all a sudden Miguel is dragging you away and you're crying then you stop coming to work. Miguel told me to forget the kiss ever happened. But I can't. I love you Y/N, I'm sick of having to not say it. I can't forget and I don't want to so I'm not gonna."

I try poorly to hide my surprise at his sentiment. I want to tell him I love him back, and that I will find a way for us to be together. But I dorm want to prolong the suffering, I might as well rip the bandage off now. For both our sakes. So, I try my best to give a frank explanation.

"I broke my canon when we kissed, and I had been trying to avoid you because I knew that if the opportunity presented itself I wouldn't be able not to. And I was right. I wasn't able not to. Because I love you, but I'm not allowed to. Its not canon."

"Who gives a fuck about canon events?" He snorts and my eyes flicker up to meet his.

"Miguel says it'll destroy my universe. He wants to help me."

"If he wanted to help ya he wouldn't kick you out of the spider society for one bloody kiss," He says but I look at him wearily. "Look around Y/N, your universe is fine!"

"I messed up, I shouldn't have kissed you. I'm such a screw up," I say, tears threatening my eyes. I notice Hobie's gaze soften and he puts his hand on my leg, unintentionally sending electricity throughout my body.

"No you're not. Nobody cares about 'canon events' love. Your universe will be just fine no matter who you date or marry or kiss or whatever," He smiles in a comforting way. Did he say marry or did I just hear what I wanted to hear? But regardless, no. He's wrong. If you mess with the canon than the multiverse will suffer, and it's selfish of me to think I could be the exception. I push his hand off gently, even though it breaks my heart.

"I'm already on an 'extended break' from the spider society, and we all know what that means. I can't just throw my life away! My job is to protect these people, the people of my earth, not to risk their lives for personal gain." I explain, desperation filling my voice as I plead him to understand. "it's better to love each other from a distance."

"I refuse to accept that!" Hobie exclaims, crossing his arms against his chest. I can tell he had been in bed before coming here because of his ninja turtle pajama pants and a blue shirt with clearly home-cut cut off sleeves that reveal his toned arms, not that I noticed..

"I'm sorry," My glossy eyes fall to my fidgeting hands, and I jerk slightly in surprise when Hobie's hand grabs one of mine.

"I'm going to fix this Y/N, and we're going to be together. Trust me darling," Hobie says, placing a swift kiss on my forehead before standing up.

"Hobie-" I start but he cuts me off with a shake of his head. With that, he leaves out my open window and I stare at the window for at least five minutes. I don't know if I want him to come back and hold me and promise me everything will be okay, or leave and never come back so I can move on. I don't know if there's a way to fix things. I don't know what he can possibly do.

All I know, is I really want him to find a way.

I spend three excruciating weeks wondering, worrying, and wishing. When the one month mark hits, I finally give up most of my hope. He didn't find a way, or maybe he just moved on.

I have painfully carried on my responsibility of being spider woman around my city. I can't lie and say I do so joyfully, I do it begrudgingly. I know i should love my job, helping people and keeping my city safe, but everything reminds me of not just Hobie, but the whole spider society.

No spider people have contacted me, which I tell myself is for the best. Its hard to convince yourself that something so painful is the right thing, but whay else can I do? If I give myself time to sit and think about things, I'd be even more angry, sad, bitter, and I'd go into a funk. So instead, I spend hours and hours doing anything I can to distract myself. If I'm not going to lay in bed and immediately fall asleep than I'm not tired enough, because I'll lay and begin to think. When I start to think, I start to shut down.

Tonight was particularly exhausting. I yank my mask off, throwing it in my hamper. I take off the rest of the suit, leaving it on the floor as I sleepily stumble to the bathroom. Somehow I manage to shower, my hair thrown in a knotted and tangled messy bun. I throw on some fresh underwear and an oversized t-shirt. I brush my teeth lazily and then get into my bed. Immediately my eyes droop, falling into slumber. Before I can be deep asleep, my window is opened loudly and someone steps inside. I can hardly open my eyes I'm so sleepy, but I can make out Hobie Brown. His tall frame sends my heart plummeting and I roll over in bed, burying my face in my pillow. Maybe if I ignore him he'll leave.

"Y/N, im sorry its been so long." He apologizes and I just groan, still attempting to tune him out. I don't want to deal with this, as selfish as that seems it's true. I've spent a month trying not to think about him but really I have thought about it, and I love him and I think I always will. The longer we try to salvage it the worse it is for us.

"There was a lot of work stuff, and I didn't want to come see you without a fix," He says and all although I couldn't see him, he was grinning at me. Something about his words sparked the hope that I had tried to give up and I roll over so I'm staring up at the ceiling.

"But you're here, so do you have a fix?" I ask, my voice raspy from exhaustion. He jumps onto the bed next to me, laying down next to me on his back. We both gaze at the ceiling and I try not to be too hopeful.

"I do, honestly I can't believe you'd ever doubt me." He chuckles and my heart begins to beat quicker.

He found a way.

Part three?? Sorry this one was short!

Tags: // @liliummz // @themarvelprince // @misselsbells06 // @american-sataness // @cr0ssoverf4n4tic // @depressednoob // @cerene-ciderr // @leighanne03 // @inluvwithfictionalwomen // @singhfae // @mythixmagic // @itsyourboymicheal // @ravensinthedaylight // @dai-tsukki-desu // @url0calw3irdo // @daisydark // @snzzysstuff // @0-n-1-x // @darkdakota8998 // @narcissticassidy // @abbiejoker10 // @bellabnuuy // @alex--awesome--22 // @edgyficuselastica // @zombieblogx // @lady-of-nightmares-and-heartache // @koalaray // @justareader18 // @hobiespick // @sukisprettyface // @furblrwurblr // @grellshottieboyfriend // @i-love-ptv // @inspace1 // @seulg1luvr // @danis-stuff-is-here // @solecitoszn // @swaggybbq //

Join my taglist!

478 notes · View notes

yueasuka · 3 months

Text

Marinette is a bad leader

There I say it...

As a leader, Marinette sure has... some trait that make her not fitted for a leader position. Namely :

Avoidant Low empathy Control freak

I don't care whatever character in universe preach about her being a great leader, the show show otherwise to me. Here some opinion :

Being a leader means she MUST communicate about pretty much anything necessary for the battle, her intend and strategy and also make sure her teamate have high morale. There's no "Follow me and guess what my plan is" and there's no planning behind someone's back, especially if that someone is an active participant in the battle. Being a leader also means she MUST keep your teamate in check, means asked about their well being, listened to their problem and being attentive to their need. She can't just "If you have a problem then good luck with it because I too have a problem" which is an occuring behaviour from her (NY Special, Destruction). As a leader she must put her teamate need first and foremost before her own because THEY'RE HER RESPONSIBILITY. Her avoidant trait make her literally avoiding all of it because she doesn't like "emotional talk". She's the type who's like "let's sleep and hope for all the problem just magically disappear tomorrow". She do this with Queen Bee problem, her delaying telling Chloe that she couldn't have miraculous anymore make Chloe thinking that she's still Queen Bee (her entitlement doesn't help). She do this again in s4 to Chat Noir and continue to do so in s5. Avoidant is basically the worst trait she has as a leader.

Having low empathy is probably not a big problem for a leader except, it is for Marinette. Her having low empathy caused her to make a plan without discussing it beforehand to her teamate, consent and boundaries tend to be forgotten and it is a problem as it make her forget that her teamate isn't just a pion in a chess game, they're human who have feelings and emotions. Her having low empathy make her freely do anything without discussing it before hand or, thinking about people around her. The recent case is her make a rain of rubble to fell down to Emilie's coffin, other cases is her bringing down Eifell tower (the Mime), make akuma destroy Arc de Triomphe (Anansi), and basically any plan that require her to throw Chat Noir to the akuma (Stone Heart, Backwarder, etc).

Her being control freak doesn't really help her to manage her team, which is also part of her role as a leader. Her "Follow me and just play along" is her being bad at delegating the role and communicating her intend, but that also her controlling her teamate so they're forced to focus on her and have no time to improvise beyond what she need them to. Control freak leader doesn't trust their teamate, they seek to control instead of guiding and this is what demoralise her teamate as seen in s4. Marinette control freak nature not only demoralising Chat Noir but also stunted his growth and performance in battle which resulting in LadyNoir conflict, she doesn't listen but people must listen to her, Her being control freak also what lead her to her decision in Ephemeral and s5 final, it has little to nothing to do with her being thoughtful of Chat Noir/Adrien, it's her with her way of thinking that her way is the only one right without thinking about Adrien's feeling. To put it simply, it's her way to control the information. Upset teamate is uncontrollable teamate after all.

That being said, I'm not saying she won't be able to be a great leader. She could, but only if she grow out those trait I mentioned. Try to communicate better, delegating role instead of controlling everything and mosre importantly, remember that her teamate is a human (or person) instead of just a pion. But as for now, I'd say she's the worst leader in the Mahou Shojo genre I've ever watch.

And also... someone can care and love someone else while also hurt them simultaneously, it's not separated thing. Just because she doesn't do it maliciously doesn't mean her action doesn't hurt the other people involved.

#I'm also blame the writers to refuse to give her a character growth #Instead it's the people around her who need to adjust themselves to her need #That's not empowering at all that's disappointing #I hate nerfing the other character is their way to make her shine #That make her being great leader status questionable #If the only way to make her shine is to nerf other that means it's a bad writing #Like what the heck writers 😂#Ml salt #I mean... I don't mean is as salt but just to be safe

86 notes · View notes

doe-eyed-fool · 1 month

Text

Fallen {Chapter Sixteen}

Alastor x (Fem)Reader

"N-No..." I mutter. I didn't want anything to do with anymore overlords. Velvette scoffed. "Don't lie to me. I don't forget faces so easily. What the fuck is your name even?" She asks, putting a hand to her hip. My voice was shaky as I spoke. "Y/n."

"Hm. And how did you get so close to that old ass radio guy?" She raises an eyebrow. "He isn't exactly friendly. Don't tell me your his girlfriend or something." I quickly shake my head. "No! Nothing like that!"

"Then what is it? He just suddenly have a change of heart?" I took a hesitant step back. I really, really, didn't want to be having this conversation with Velvette of all people. As I moved, my back hit against something.

I look behind me to see Alastor. "Velvette. I'd appreciate it if you'd stop interrogating miss Y/n, here." Velvet scowled and crossed her arms. "Excuse me, but who the hell are you to order me around, old man?" Alastor's smile thinned. "Are the other two V's with you? Or are you just out looking to start trouble?"

Velvette scoffed, shifting her weight onto one foot. "No, just me. And if anyone is looking to start trouble, it's you. I'd watch yourself, oldie."

"Oh, he isn't so old." Came Rosie's voice as she joined Alastor's side. "Now, young lady, I suggest you go about your business. I'd hate for such a lovely café to be destroyed because of a slight...argument." There was a slight hiss in her voice towards the end.

Velvette glared at the two, Alator and Rosie returned the harsh stare. I felt my heart sink. Were they about to fight? And I would be caught up right in the middle!?

Thankfully Velvette backed off. "Whatever. I'm not wasting anymore time with you two fossils." She says as she walks past them. I sigh a breath if relief.

"My, I will never get use her attitude." Rosie says with a shake of her head. "Y/n, are you alright honey?" She asks me. I only nod my head. "Rosie, dear, I hate to cut our day short. But I'm afraid I have to get Y/n back to the hotel." Said Alastor.

Rosie waved her hand. "Oh don't worry. We can reschedule for another day, when the undesirables aren't roaming the streets."

"Of course." Alastor grins. "Shall I send your order to your residence?" Asked Rosie. Alastor nods his head. "Please do. Come long Y/n." He says, turning to me. I follow him silently.

"You two dipshits won't believe who I just ran into." Velvette says as she makes her way into Voxtek studios. The two "dipshits", she was referring too, were her fellow overlords. Valentino, and Vox. Vox, rolled his eyes before speaking. "Oh, do tell."

"Radio Bitch and his pal Grandma Rosie." She starts. "Not only them, but you remember that woman Alastor had with him at that ball? She was there too." Vox's previous disinterest quickly diminished, his look of surprise slowly turning sinister. "So, Alastor does have it in him to be friendly." He chuckles. "Now, what in the fuck could be so special about her?"

"Perhaps he's finally found someone who can get his rocks off." Valentino smirked. "Doubt it." Vox shrugs. "That motherfucker would kill someone for accidently brushing up against him."

"She might be just another dumbass who made a deal with him." Said Velvette. "But..." She mutters. "But?" Vox raises an eyebrow. "He did get awfully testy when I was "pestering" her." Velvette finishes. Vox laughed. "Oh don't tell me he's actually gotten attached! That's fucking precious!" Vox then smirks. "I think we all know what should be done now. Only question is, how are we going to do it?"

"How does she look?" Valentino asks. "You were there at the ball, how did you not see her?" Asked Velvette. Valentino just shrugs. Velvette rolls her eyes. "She's pretty decent looking, if you must know."

"Maybe I'll hit her up sometime. See if she's looking for work." Valentino chuckles lowly. "I'm always looking for new flesh."

"Gross." Velvette mutters. "Nah, I don't think we should do that. Not yet anyway." Vox spoke up. Valentino sighed. "Why?" He asked. "Use that brain of yours for once. If Alastor is as attached as we think he is, we could use that broad as leverage. Then, we do whatever the fuck with her after we get what we want." Vox explains.

"Also, Velvette, don't go spreading any word about this right away. We want to be sure before we actually go through with this." Velvette shrugs. "Whatever. I'm not trying to catch any flack for spreading misinformation, especially on something I don't really give a shit about."

"Think you can hold off too Val?" Asked Vox. Valentino nods. "For now."

"Then we're all in agreement." Vox smirks. "Better be ready Alastor, cause you're about to get royally fucked."

"I think I've had my fill with overlords." I mutter as Alastor and I approach the hotel. "That would be the third one you've met face to face. Fourth, if you include me. I understand, though, you're in hell now. You see us overlords everywhere." Alastor tells me.

"It will be one of the many things I will not miss when I leave this awful place." I say with a light sigh. Alastor went silent. As we made our way up the steps to the doorway, I look up at him. "How did you end up in hell?" I asked. Alastor glanced down at me.

"Are you sure you can handle the answer you'll get?" He says with a smirk. "I mean...I've been to a city full of cannibals and watched someone be murdered and devoured in the streets like it was nothing. I think I'll be fine." Alastor chuckles at my response. "Fair enough." He paused for a moment before speaking.

"I was a murder in my living days." Not surprising. "As well as a cannibal." Unnerving, but also not surprising. "My first kill was at the ripe age of twenty seven. Yes, I still remember it like it was yesterday." He said with a longing sigh. "Though, I didn't start the who cannibal thing until my third kill."

"How many did you kill exactly?" I ask, unsure if I really wanted to know the answer. "Got away with twelve, and unfortunately my fun was ended on my thirteenth."

"You were caught?" I tilt my head.

"I was killed." Alastor corrects. "Shot dead by a hunter. Right in the ol' bullseye!" He says, pointing to his forehead. "I see." I nod my head. "Alright, I told you how I died. I think it's only fair you tell me yours." Said Alastor.

We walk inside of the hotel and make our way through the halls. "It's...not a great death. You'd be bored." I mutter. "Come now, I'm sure it's not that bad." Alastor waved his hand. I look away from him before exhaling. "Fell down a flight of stairs. Broken neck." I mutter. "Is that right?" Alastor asks.

I nod, trying to fight back the tears gathering in my eyes. Unfortunately for me, Alastor noticed. "But that's not quite the full story?" I shake my head.

"It wasn't a fall...I was pushed." My voice cracked. "I see. Murder then." Alastor nods. "I assume you know who did it too."

"My fiancé. Only a month before we were going to get married too." Alastor stays quiet. "We...weren't in love. We never were. I thought we were, but...I was blinded by nice gestures and empty words. He convinced me he actually loved me, and in the end, it resulted in my death. I...kinda always knew it would too. And I knew he would be the cause of it...It's my own fault. I should have left sooner. It's like I was asking for him to do it."

"Nonsense."

I look up at Alastor, despite the sharpness in his tone. His expression was neutral. "What?"

"People can be deceiving. They'll break your heart and piece it all back together with the bare minimum. And sadly, it works in most cases. You're right. Unfortunately for you, and for many people, it can result in someone ending up dead."

"Alastor?"

"I believe this is your stop." I look ahead to see the door to my room. "Goodbye for now Y/n." Without another word, Alastor left. I only watched as he walked away.

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin rosie #rosie #hazbin hotel velvette #hazbin velvette #velvette #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox #valentino #valentino hazbin hotel #the vees

56 notes · View notes

sophieinwonderland · 3 months

Note

We are a tulpagenic system, I told my mom and sister about my headmates and they were accepting and supportive! But after meeting with a psychiatrist that changed.

One day during a depressive episode, a new headmate appeared. This new headmate started fronting everytime I was distressed. He scared me a little because he is kinda aggressive. (I say it in past tense because he doesn't scare me anymore! He has his reasons to be that way).

So yeah I told a psychiatrist about us, because I didn't know what to do and wanted help. She asked me if I had a video of me switching. One of us likes to make videos so we had one. After watching the video she asks me "what happened to you?" I say nothing, she says "something should have happened, because multiple personalities happen because of trauma". So she kept asking if something happened in my childhood, I really didn't know what to answer other than "nothing happened".

I didn't want to tell her about tulpamancy because I thought that would make everything more complicated.

After a time the new headmate fronted and got angry at her, and then she says "I don't want to talk with [new headmate's name] anymore, talk to me as [my name]".

She told me if I keep changing with these "characters" she would send a letter to my university that says I can't study psychology (the career I'm currently studying). At that moment I regretted telling not only her, but my mom and sister about us. My mistake. I admit I didn't think much about the consequences. Also as I said before, I was scared of the new headmate.

After that day when I mention my headmates to my mom and sister, they react strangely. Before, they would be enthusiastic, but now they just keep silent and try to change topics.

Sorry for writing the Bible, I wanted to get this off of my chest. 😅 Have a nice day/afternoon/evening!

Oh, WOW! I'm so sorry that happened. That is awful! And I'm pretty sure illegal.

Even assuming the therapist is ignorant of endogenic systems, this isn't even how you treat someone with DID. DID often comes with amnesia, and this may extend to forgetting of traumatic events. And even if traumatic events aren't remembered, people with PTSD tend to not want to talk about trauma. Avoidant behavior is a key aspect of trauma, and asking you if you're traumatized and getting mad if you say you're not is just a really bad practice, even for patients who actually have DID.

On top of that, while I don't know where you're from, in the United States at least, sending a letter to your university feels like a huge violation of HIPAA. I'm not certain if it's technically illegal to merely threaten to violate a patient's rights, but the fact they did, and in order to bully you into denying your experiences, at least indicates that they have no business treating other patients.

I would highly recommend finding a new psychiatrist immediately if you haven't already.

You did NOTHING wrong by coming out.

The psychiatrist who you seen is a terrible doctor and a danger to their patients. You aren't to blame for their actions.

#syscourse #pro endo #pro endogenic #multiplicity #sysblr #system stuff #plural #plurality #psychiatry #psych critical #therapy #mental health #systems #actually plural #actually a system

70 notes · View notes

italiansteebie · 11 months

Note

As someone who is disabled, I am obsessed with the idea of Steve Harrington in a wheelchair or using mobility aids. Maybe hurt/comfort with Steve feeling stuck? like out in public people will treat him like a baby and dote on him like he cant do anything at all. Also established steddie?? ->

ignore me if u dont like this prompt hshs

excuse you, this was an amazing prompt and I love it.

and I am a sucker for projecting onto Steve, so lets go.

---

Steve was always in pain nowadays.

In fact, it only got worse after the bats, and he figures the exertion after the fact didn't help. Before, he could always push through, hobble along and ice his aching joints when he got home.

Though, he couldn't ignore it after his legs would only stay strong for about ask hour before they collapsed under him. He remembers the first day it happened. He'd been at the grocery store, picking up dinner for his date with Eddie. (It was fairly new, but it was strong). He'd felt a bit weak before leaving, but as always he pushed through, ignoring the dizziness and pain.

It had only gotten worse as he walked through the grocery store, and all of a sudden, he was on the ground, and the grocery store patrons were staring at him, whispering things about the Harrington name and image. The store manager ended up having to call Eddie to come help him.

"Oh, Stevie..." He sighed. He'd been bugging Steve about seeing a doctor for months in fact ever since he was healed himself, he'd been pestering Steve to go to Owens and explain to him what was going on. But he hadn't, and now here they were, Eddie helping Steve into a wheelchair in front of a crowd of Hawkins shoppers.

Steve had been covering his face, and Eddie could almost feel the shame he was experiencing. He wanted to tell their audience off, to go away, to mind their business. But he knew that would only make it worse. So he stayed quiet, and so did Steve.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

So they didn't.

And they didn't after Steve saw Owens.

And they didn't after Steve was fitted for a wheelchair.

They just... Didn't.

Until Steve had fallen again.

At Mike's house, with just the kids, who weren't strong enough to help him back into his chair, with no help from his wobbling legs. So they called Eddie, and hid in the basement after Steve had yelled at them to go away, hot tears of embarrassment rolling down his face.

They were home now, and again, Steve was quiet. Eddie helped him get situated on the couch, legs still too wobbly to do it unassisted.

"Steve... Lets talk about it,"

Steves head snapped up, eyes shining, "You wanna talk about it? Fine! I'm fucking useless, my legs don't work and I can't fucking do anything by myself anymore! The kids barely look at me, Robs hasn't been able to hang out in weeks, and the rest of Hawkins thinks I'm a fucking charity case! Every time I leave the house it's like I'm a fucking zoo animal. I wish this had never fucking happened! I wish I wasn't-"

"Don't say that, Steve."

"It's true isn't it? Don't you hate having to come help me? God... I just- I'm so..." The sobs crawl their way out of his throat, and he can't stop them once they start.

"Steve..." Eddie rubs a comforting hand up and down Steve's back, pulling him closer to cradle him in his arms. Steve tucked his head into Eddie's neck, letting the tears roll freely down his face. "Steve, you have every right to feel that way but... I hope you know it's not true. The kids... It's just a different dynamic and I'm not supposed to tell you this but Robin has been working on a design of the back of your wheelchair, she wanted it to be a surprise and she was worried she spoil it." He hears Steve sniffle a sort of laugh. "And baby, you cared for me every single day for months while I was healing, what makes you think I hate helping you? I'm so glad I can finally make it up to you."

Steve lifts his head, looking Eddie in the eyes, "Really?"

"Really, Stevie."

He watches Steve smile, for what seemed like the first time since coming home from that doctors appointment. "Also, with all the extra arm work, your biceps look," He pauses to do a chefs kiss, "Fantastico! That's how you guys say it in Italy, right?" He smirks, and Steve bursts into a fit of giggles, tears drying on his cheeks as he shakes his head. "I love you, Eds."

They lean in for a soft kiss, it's slow and sweet, "I love you too, Steve."

208 notes · View notes

turtlecleric · 3 months

Text

I'm in Hell

SPOILERS FOR SYMPHONY CHAPTER 22 - THIS POST IS LONG YOU'VE BEEN WARNED

I'm so Unwell. I have never had any misunderstandings like the thing with Donnie, but I have been betrayed by someone who was my best friend for years, so this chapter... it's hitting me really, really hard.

---

When Leo first met Vi, he was studying her a lot. Remember the near-physical weight his scrutiny had felt like? You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. ... like a pinned rabbit ... you see an obsidian edge beneath his smile that feels a little sharp as you lean into it.

And then later in her apartment:

[Leo talking] “…You know what really got me interested in talking to you?”

“What?” you ask, tilting your head.

“Donnie came back from talking with April and he was talking about you."

This is literally Vi and Leo's first time meeting - I don't think Leo started to really hate her until after she started coming to the Lair and he saw how Donnie reacted to her presence, but he mentions that Donnie talked about her already. It's framed within Vi's mind as him being careful with his family. He's the leader, he's careful around new people, he wants to make sure she isn't a threat, etc. But even though this is before the touch thing started, there could've been the seed of hatred already there depending on how Donnie spoke about Vi to Leo.

---

He [Leo] peers at you like he can read your life story where it’s written on your soul. ... “…You don’t have a lot of friends, do you?” he asks, his voice soft and yet cutting you all the same.

and this:

[Vi talking] “I had a lot of fun tonight. I’d… like to have more nights like this one. To. To have a family. If I can.” “You can,” he [Leo] says

He knew from the first fucking time he met her that she was lonely. That she wanted friends, wanted a family, wanted to belong. He knew that better than anyone else in the family, not only because of her saying this to him but also because of how well he reads people and how much time he spent with her. He's the only one who has seen her in her apartment, too, caught her in those few vulnerable moments in her home. I'm so fucking angry.

There are so many times in the fic that... I can't even articulate... here's some quotes early on -> "you hate how much you like this guy [Leo]" and "you smile when you see [the text notification is from] Leo" and when Vi is sick in the store she says "I miss Leo" and on and on. And that whole fucking time! He was!! UGH!!!

---

When Vi agrees to make Leo some bread so that maybe he can get some of Donnie's apology cookies he texts her "ttyl i gotta go rub this in donnie’s face" and yeah that's him being a little shit as always, but it's ALSO proof of him using EVEN THEIR PRIVATE TEXT CONVERSATIONS as ammunition rile up Donnie.

---

Hey look! Bits that hit different/hint at more going on/might be Leo's mask slipping!

“How long do we hafta wait before she ain’t a guest anymore?” Raph asks, causing you to snort a laugh.

“That’s up to Donnie,” Leo says, voice heavy with an undercurrent of meaning you’re not picking up on, causing you to look at him with a raised eyebrow. He smirks, reaching over to poke your cheek with his finger. “Y’know. He’s the one who met you first, and all that.”

…Something tells you it’s more than that, but he’s good enough at hiding it that you don’t feel comfortable calling him on it in front of the others.

...

you have no idea how you fit in [to the family], and Leo had all but told you that the space is here, ready and emblazoned with your name on it. You don’t quite see it yet, even if he apparently does.

...

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. It’s complicated,” Leo says easily, and it’s only just, but you pick out the thread of iron bars in his tone, ready to come crashing down if you push even a little too hard. So, you don’t.

“Okay,” you say easily, causing him to get that piercing look he gets sometimes, the one when he feels more like a ninja than a funny turtle man who tries to see how many cookies he can shove into his mouth at once and sends you pizza rat memes at four in the morning. “…Dude, we’ve been friends for like, a week. It’s cool that you aren’t ready to spill your guts yet, you know that, right?”

His eyes go sharp, but then he hums and smiles. You feel like you did the night you first met him, like there’s a test here and it’s in a language you don’t understand. It’s a bit uncomfortable, prompting you to grab your own drink and swallow a healthy bit of it just to have something to do.

...

[Vi talking] “…He [Donnie] seems lonely.”

Leo hums under his breath, cutting a portal that feels a little like home. “Well, lucky he has you, then.”

...

“Uh, I met her first,” Donnie says, scowling, while Leo just gives him a smug look.

...

You do, however, lean in while the others are occupied, whispering to Donnie, “So, ten dollars, which one of them tops?” and laughing when he chokes. You catch Leo’s eyes and give him a devious grin, spying him look to Donnie with a curiously blank look before shifting to a catty smile of his own when he looks back to you

...

“One portal home for a lovely lady,” Leo says as he steps through, his face going a little flat when he looks over your shoulder to Donnie behind you.

...

Leo is… astonishingly quiet for a moment, his face blank of anything for you to read as he stares at the piece hard. Then he looks up at you, and you see an unusually capable person that doesn’t feel like your best friend, even as much as it feels like the real Leonardo, here for the first time for you to see.

...

[Vi talking] “I don’t… I don’t like keeping secrets. Or lying. Not from people I care about.”

The weight of Leo’s eyes is almost physical. It makes you remember that he’s asked you to keep secrets, and your eyes snap to his, wondering if that’s the reason why he’s gone still like this. “I—I haven’t told anyone. About the ninja thing, or the Krang thing. I’d never—”

“I know,” Leo interrupts, threading his hand through your hair so he can cup your nape and press your forehead to his own. “I trust you.” You release a sigh of relief, nodding. “I’m just… thinking it might be time for us to repay that back.”

You blink, gaze darting between his eyes. “I don’t… what do you mean?”

“We’re a pretty close-knit family. There’s a lot of… baggage. A lot of history. A lot of stuff we haven’t told you. And it’s… it’s starting to feel a little disrespectful,” he says, looking a bit displeased. “You’re one of us. It’s only fair.”

---

We all know about the constant comments Leo makes about being Vi's "favorite turtle" and "best friend" in front of the others/in the group chat. He talks in Chapter 22 about purposefully draping himself across her and pulling her close, hugging her, scenting her, touching her in front of Donnie to piss Donnie off. But there's all these other little things that seemed so innocent at the time and now I'm losing my mind wondering about each of them, wondering - is that something he did with malicious intent? How many nice things were ONLY done to piss off Donnie? There are so many times that he compliments her - for example:

“What? I can’t compliment my bestie and her fine legs?” Leo coos, reaching over and flicking your nose gently.

“Leonardo,” Donnie warns, folding his arms.

And I remember, during my second read through after I finished Chapter 20, being so happy and grateful that Leo was pretty consistently giving her compliments, because she deserves to be complimented and taken care of and loved, because she deserves good friends who hype her up, and this WHOLE TIME-

(Side note - that time that Leo complains she smells like Donnie's lab, he shoves her away and she falls to the floor. First read, it's just Leo being playful. Second read, I wonder... is that a little bit of his frustration getting out of him in a physical way? He shoved her to the fucking floor, and then, once Donnie shows up, Leo pats the cushion next to him for Vi to sit by him. Then he wraps his arm around her and pulls her in close to smell her. But that's only after Donnie shows up.)

When Mikey takes Vi's So-Shell profile picture -> “Wha—?” you start, only to feel Leo leaning in to smoosh his cheek against yours, the distinct feeling of bunny ears brushing the back of your skull. Once again, this is in front of Donnie. Plus it's for her profile picture, so that means every time Donnie sees her So-Shell profile he'll see Leo in the picture, too. Leo was also famously the first like on her first So-Shell post and gets her to always leave nice comments/emojis on his thirst traps.

When she comes to the Lair to practice with her viola, Leo offers up HIS room first, and only once she declines does he -> “Ugh, fine, you are so boring,” he says, and removing his arm, he shoves at your shoulders hard and pushes you through the portal. (Pushing her onto the floor, pushing her through the portal... he's kind of rough with her in the beginning, and I figured it was just because he's haha silly funny turtle man, physical comedy, joking around whatever but... again I wonder. Is he letting himself be a little rough as a way to express his true feelings?)

God, all these little things that... might have an ulterior motive and might not.

It's around the time Vi gets bruised up by that guy at the coffee shop that Leo seems to start actually acting like a real friend, in my opinion. “…You don’t even get how incredible you are, do you?” he asks, causing you to roll your eyes. “You seriously don’t see it.”

The very next chapter he gets a glimpse of her being anxious over not being able to play, while she notices that he looks tired, invites him to listen to music and lets him sleep on her back, and in that chapter it says: you sit, quiet, letting him use you. My second read through, this line hit me hard because I KEPT noticing that she really does nothing but GIVE and I feel like she's constantly doing things to be useful to others. And now, as I'm skimming through a third time, it turns out that... yeah. Yeah. He was fucking using her. In Chapter 22, Leo says "then you reach out and touch me in a way no one has. You’ve helped me, even though I was just using you" and I'm thinking this is the moment that that really started. When she first let him sleep on her. And that's also the first time he churrs with her. After that, he gets her really nice sushi, and she thinks he's guilty for drooling all over for her, but I think maybe he was guilty because he's starting to realize how nice she is and how shitty it is that he's using her like that, even though he does continue those manipulative behaviors.

---

He sighs, his face going openly affectionate. “…You’re so…”

What he thinks you are, you don’t know, as he chooses instead to pull you into a hug. You go easily, seeking the comfort of his embrace, hoping he can feel in your arms that you truly do mean what you said.

“You know, instead of sorry, you should say—” Leo says, though as his face gets close to your throat, his mouth snaps shut and he goes still in a manner that reminds you a little of Donnie.

“…Leo?” you ask, going to pull back from the hug to look into his face only to feel his hands go tight on your back, holding you close while he dips his beak to your skin and inhales. When he does pull back, he’s got a look of shock on his face that he quickly schools into something more neutral, but barely.

This is where he smells Donnie on you for the first time, and the guilt he was starting to feel, the actual genuine affection he was developing for her, may have then been interrupted/overshadowed by his anger.

Vi was right to say she isn't gonna go back and examine every detail, because it's so fucking MUDDY! There are glimpses of true softness from him sprinkled throughout with him ALSO still hanging over her and doing shit that pisses Donnie off on purpose. And then of course the scene with Leo in the kitchen when he scares her, where we get the first big glimpse into his true anger about the whole situation, where we see him being sharp and cutting and dismissive and- I'm not going to paste in that whole scene, but he's so, so, SO angry. When she has that visceral, terrified reaction, he feels so bad (I do think he was genuinely, truly horrified that he scared her), but then he finds out that Vi and Donnie are (as far as Vi is aware) dating, followed by her telling him that Donnie misses touching his brothers, misses hugs, followed by Leo deciding to tell Vi about all the family secrets... so he's wrestling with this rage and jealousy, but he's also starting to really accept her as family (I think, since he shared the info about the Krang, about Lou Jitsu, about Casey, since he asked for her help)...

It kills me that, after that, he saw her trying so hard to help, like when she went to the library and got books on PTSD and fell asleep taking notes and she wakes up with a blanket covering her and a little blue heart on a note - he saw her doing that, on top of everything else she CONSTANTLY does for other people, for his family, and HE STILL, EVEN AFTER THAT, DOES SHIT THAT'S MANIPULATIVE. THE 4TH OF JULY PARTY, FOR EXAMPLE. “What she said,” Leo purrs, his fingers fluttering on your stomach as his eyes cut off to the side. He has a sharp look to his features that you’re a bit too drunk to dissect, so you just ignore it. He HAS to be looking at Donnie, here.

(Side note - we still don't know what Leo was doing when Vi was in the shower getting ready for the party... if anything. Maybe he really was eating cookies.)

It's at the end of the party that he smells sex on Vi, I think, for the first time. And the following chapter is when he starts avoiding Vi, and she goes to confront him and he says he's "Thinking about things. About what I want.” And THAT'S when he finally stops his bullshit. Ch 22 - "I stopped. Completely. After we talked in my room.”

---

I'm still working on fully re-reading Chapters 17+ until I make it back up to 22 and putting more thoughts into that post, but. Dear God. Sam is a genius and I'm so angry at myself. I had been so confused and angry with Donnie, when in reality he truly DID NOT KNOW about the misunderstanding between him and Vi. Meanwhile, as I'm fawning over Leo and so happy Vi has him and so grateful he's been such a good friend to her... he was the one using her, this whole time. I cannot believe it. I'm SICK with rage. I can't imagine how Vi could possibly... I can't... FUCK dude

#symphony #turtlecleric ramblings

65 notes · View notes

suugrpop · 1 year

Text

ONLY IF YOU WANT TO | chapter one

Pairing: Bradley 'rooster' Bradshaw x female reader

Summary: When you ask your childhood friend to be your fake boyfriend for a week, his feelings show and you're a complete mess.

Author's note: This one's a little bit longer but I hope you enjoy. Sorry for not posting, finals are making me crazy. Send help.

"Bradley! I need you right now! " You screamed at the top of your lungs. He was sitting in the sofa watching a football match with Hangman.

"What is it now, Y/N."

"It's in private. Please." You say, giving Hangman a forgiving look because you destroyed their "besties night". Bradley gets up and you take him to your room to talk. You and Bradley are sitting on your bed.

"Promise me you're not gonna get angry".

He has a drunk look on his face, probably because he had too many beers already

."My auntie says he wants to meet my boyfriend". Bradley gives you a confused look.

"I told her I had one because if not I'm going to marry a wooer she picked for me."

"But, you're single, aren't you?". He asks, taking another sip to of beer.

"Not anymore. Because you're gonna be my fake boyfriend". You said, trying to sound optimistic. His head falls into his hands. Maybe this was a bad idea.

"So, what do you think?." Fuck. You fucked up. And good.

"This isn't a great idea, you know? Lying to your aunt and everything." Bradley says.

" We can make a deal. Remember that blonde girl that you talked to the other night at the Hard Deck? I think she likes you. I can get you a date with her if you go with me to to meet my auntie." You replied.

"Well, if you put it like that... Then it's a promise."

"Really?" You screamed of happiness. Just thinking about not wanting to marry that jerk made you happy. You hugged him so hard he needed to pat your back asking for air.

The next few days, you've been trying to find any information about the girl at the Hard Deck. You only found that her name was Sarah, and she was into pilots. She was pretty, you didn't denied it. Long, blonde hair (the type of the hair you'd whish you have, but you were a pilot, and your job didn't allow you to have long hair) and blue eyes. You could stare at her all day, but you don't want to see like a stalker, so your eyes go back to your drink.

You notice how some footsteps approach to you, and from the corner of your eye, it's her. You take a deep breath and relax your muscles.

"Do I know you. You've been staring at me all night". How couldn't you? She was everything you wanted to be.

"Uhm.. it's nothing". You tried to say without sounding nervous.

"You know who Rooster Is, right?" She gave a surprising look. You got her.

"Of course I know him. We met here. In fact I'm waiting for him for a second date." He didn't told you he already had a second date with her. Then, why are you here? You promise him you'll get him a date with her, but it seems he doesn't needs you. He really doesn't have to try, just look at him. He's a really hot guy, and a pilot.

"That's amazing! I know you're going to have fun with him. I don't want to ruin your date, so I'll get going. Goodnight."

You tried to sound excited, finally happy to see Bradley with someone he loves. He only had one night stands and causally dates, but maybe this one's for real. You picked up your things and say goodbye to Penny.

When you arrive home, you take s shower and go to bed. Your mind's still thinking about Bradley. Why didn't he told you anything about that date? Probably because he's busy.

A week has passedd, and the day finally came. Your hairs in a ponytail and you're wearing a red dress with low high heels and little to no makeup. Simple, but just to play it safe. You're waiting outside your house to meet Bradley.

He finally arrives and you get into his bronco. He's wearing a Hawaiian shirt with denim shorts. You don't know why, but you love seeing him like this. Casual, wearing some else than the pilot tracksuit.

"Hey, you look beautiful." He says. "Thank you. You're not bad at all."

"So, how is this going to go. " He stars the car to your aunties house. "Simple, you just have to pretend that you're my boyfriend. But we need to make it seem that we like each other. There's need to be a connection between us." You tried to not be nervous. Why everytime you're with him, he makes you feel this way?

"Can I kiss you?" Your eyes got bigger. Wait? What? "Yeah, you can" you're stupid. You never kissed anyone before.

The ride's not so long so you make it there fast. You knock the door to your auntie's house and wait for her come and open the door. Before she does, Bradley gives a reassuring look. You just nod and smile.

"I knew you'd come" your auntie says and give a warm hug. Then, her eyes reach to Bradley, who smiles and takes her hand. "You're dating Bradley!?" She looks surprised. How wouldn't she? You never had a boyfriend before, and you don't go out much.

She lets you inside and you take a seat to have dinner. She keeps asking questions to Bradley, about how he date you even though you're an antisocial freak and germs give you the ick.

"It just happened, you know. I knew I wanted to spent the rest of my life with her". You just smile. Does he always lies this good, or is he telling the truth?

"Do you remember the wooer I picked up for you? You almost forgot. Spending time with Bradley made you dizzy, feeling things that you can't explain.

"Uhh... Yes, I do. Is something wrong with him? Your nerves get the best of you and your leg starts shaking. Bradley notices and his hand touches your knee, putting the tiniest bit of pressure. His hand is warm and relax.

"Nothing. I need to call him to tell him that I don't need him anymore. Bradley looks so in love with you". Fuck. Fuck. What are you going to do now? At least you won't have to see his face any more. He did horrendous things to do just for you to like him.

"Yeah, I think Y/N doesn't need him anymore, right baby? You look at him. Gosh, he's so handsome. His tan, sunkissed skin and his beard that matches his hair color. You could stare at him all day.

"Well, I have someone in my life so". You replied. His hand is still on your knee, and you'd whish he never took it from there. It feels nice.

The rest of the night went well, until your auntie opened her mouth and asked you if you had any plans on getting married.

"We're still thinking about it, don't worry." Your auntie has always been interested in your romantic life. She wanted you marry someone who you're happy with, and have kids. Unfortunately, you were scared. How are you going to tell Bradley about your feelings? Does he feel the same way?. Tonight made you realize that you have feelings for him, but you're scared.

Bradley just looks at you, maybe waiting for all of this to be over and go home. Both of you didn't have to work tomorrow, but it was a long day anyway. You say goodbye to your auntie and walk to Bradley's bronco.

"Are we going to fake the weeding too? He asks. He looks pissed. "Look, if you don't want to do this anymore just tell me, okay?" You get on his car, waiting for an answer.

"I can't do this anymore" he says.

"Do what, Bradley?

" I love you"

#top gun maverick #top gun fandom #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster x you #rooster imagine

206 notes · View notes