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#i thought it had been like 2 weeks or something
rafesfavgirl · 2 days
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not like you — r. cameron
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part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. sorry this took so long y'all, school's been kicking my ass :')
❝ get my car door, isn't that sweet? then pull me to thе backseat no onе's ever had me, not like you ❞
pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader
context: after a few dates with rafe, he finally asks you to go midsummers with him as his girlfriend.
words: 2.9k+
warnings: jealous!jj, bitchy!kie, jealous!rafe, alcohol use, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral m receiving, pretty fluffy, SMUT with a cute little plot bc soft!rafe is soooooo bf material
"so… i've actually been meaning to ask you something," rafe pulls his truck to a stop in front of your house and turns to look at you.
it was the middle of the night and the two of you had just gotten back from getting froyo, after he texted you asking whether you wanted to go with him to get some on his way home from topper's.
"what's up?" you ask, eyes scanning his face, which donned a look of apprehension.
was he nervous?
a chuckle escapes his lips as he glances down, hand fiddling with yours on top of your thigh. "well, we've been going out for a few weeks now…" he started.
"yeah?" a small smile comes across your lips—never in a million years did you think you'd be making rafe cameron, of all people, act like this.
"and you've met my friends," his eyes meet yours, blue irises twinkling. "and my sisters…"
"rafe, what is it?"
"i was wondering if you'd consider going to midsummers with me," he says, a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. "you know… as a couple."
you tilt your head to the side, and kink an eyebrow. "rafe cameron, are you asking me to be your girlfriend?"
he shakes his head at your teasing, and playfully rolls his eyes, thumb rubbing against the top of your hand. "depends, are you saying yes?"
"i don't know," you shrug. "i mean, you're a kook, i'm a pogue. we come from totally different worlds. not to mention i just got out of a year-long relationship and…" you trail off when the look on his face turns sour, clearly thinking you were serious.
"oh, i'm just kidding," you chuckle, nudging his arm.
"you're not funny," he tells you, but you know by the way his eyes light up again that he's relieved.
"i'd love to go to midsummers with you," you smile.
"as my girlfriend?"
"yes, baby," you nod, leaning in so your lips are just hovering above his. "as your girlfriend."
rafe closes the distance, lips meeting yours in a way that make all the butterflies flutter in your stomach, as his other hand comes up to tangle in your hair.
"come inside for a bit," you smile against him, lips only leaving his long enough for you to get the words out.
"your parents won't mind?"
you shake your head, "they're sleeping."
“y/n!” sarah immediately comes up to greet you when rafe opens your door and helps you step out, making sure your dress doesn’t snag.
“hey, sare,” you return her hug, but your eyes linger behind her head to john b’s parked twinkie in the parking lot.
…what the hell?
“hey, y/n,” when he rounds the twinkie, dressed nicer than you’ve ever seen him dressed, and comes over to stand beside sarah, it clicks in your head.
“no way,” you shake your head, eyes shifting between them when you break your hug with sarah.
sarah shrugs with a smile, hand intertwining with john b’s. “way.”
“but i thought you were with topper,” you say. “how did-“
“a’ight, as much as i’d love to hear about my sister’s love life, we gotta go,” rafe interrupts you, hand sliding across your exposed lower back, making your head turn towards him, as a chill runs down your spine, your weight shifting from one leg to the other.
“right,” you nod, his intoxicating presence completely making you forget about sarah and john b.
he gives you a small push towards the club and begins to lead you inside, sarah and john b trailing closely behind you. 
once again, you’re caught off guard when you follow rafe outside with your hand in his, the back garden of the island club decked out in twinkling lights and hysterias like it was pulled straight out of a fairytale.
"holy shit," you mutter, causing rafe to look at you with a smile.
"you like?"
"are you kidding?" your wide eyes meet his, as you both descend the steps of the back porch. "this is insane."
"come on," he nods his head to the side, and begins leading you toward his dad, rose, and wheezie. "you can meet my dad."
while the two of you had been messing around for about a month now, and you had even attended a brunch at the club with him two weeks ago, he'd been apprehensive to officially introduce you to ward. not that you thought it was a big deal—everyone in the obx already knew who he was.
"dad," rafe greets him with a smile; you glued to his side. "this is y/n."
"so you're the girl i've been hearing so much about," ward smiles at you and holds out a hand. "ward cameron."
you place your free hand in his for a quick handshake, relief washing over you when you realize he isn't the monster you thought he was—at least, if he was, he surely hid it well with that friendly smile.
"y/n y/l/n," you tell him. "it's nice to meet you."
"you too," he nods. "nice to finally put a face to the name. you kids enjoy yourselves."
"thank you," you reply, as rafe pulls you away towards kelce and topper by the bar.
"well, well, what do we have here?" topper smiles at the two of you and sips on a glass of what you assume to be whiskey. "is it official?"
"something like that," you smile back, leaning into rafe and tilting your head up to look at him, his eyes twinkling as they locked with yours.
"y'all want something or what?" the sound of jj's bitter voice pulls you out of your haze, when he walks up behind topper and kelce and leans his hands against the bar counter.
there was just no escaping him.
his eyes meet yours when top and kelce step aside to give him a full view of you and rafe, dressed in matching colors with your hands intertwined.
a smug smirk comes across rafe's lips, realizing just how quickly the tables had turned. though he'd never admit it, he'd always had a thing for you ever since he saw you waitressing at the wreck that one time you agreed to help kie with the lunch rush. a part of him always hated that jj got to you first, but that didn't matter now. because he was the one standing beside you tonight. not jj. 
"just a glass of whiskey for me, man," he says, before looking down at you. "anything for you, doll?"
"i'll take a glass of wine," you nod at him, pulling your eyes away from jj. rafe was the guy in your life now.
"you heard her," rafe tells jj. "and make it white wine. the most expensive kind you've got."
you playfully roll your eyes at his antics—he clearly just wanted jj to know how much he liked to spoil you—but don't argue when he hands you your glass.
"i'll be back," you whisper to him. "i'm gonna go find sarah."
"okay, baby," he nods, leaning down to place his lips on yours. "save me a dance, though."
jj rolls his eyes behind the bar and scoffs, tongue poking at his cheek as he poured another drink for kelce.
you choose to ignore him, and smile up at your new boyfriend instead. "you got it."
"is this a pogue reunion i see?" you couldn't help taking a detour from finding sarah to walk up to pope and john b by the grill that pope was working.
"maybe for you," pope shrugs, and john b agrees, pointing the neck of his beer bottle towards you before taking a sip. "we're together everyday."
"alright, touché," you nod, a hand reaching out to bump john b's chest. "i didn't know you cleaned up so well, dude."
"look who's talking," john b says, eyes trailing up and down the baby blue dress you're wearing. "you look more like a kook than anyone here."
you roll your eyes and shake your head. "shut the fuck up."
"i'm totally serious," he chuckles. "you look good, y/n. happy."
you sigh, not being able to help the smile that spreads across your lips. "i am."
"good," he returns your smile. "that's how it should be."
"and what about you?" you tease, nudging his arm with your elbow. "mr. sarah cameron… how the hell did that happen?"
he shrugs, "i don't know, it kinda just did."
a small laugh leaves your mouth. "hmm. who would've thought, huh? you and me with kooks?"
"definitely wasn't on my list of things that would happen this year," he shakes his head, chuckling.
"where is she, anyway?"
"she went to go find you, actually," he says.
"damn, i should go find her then," you reply. "but text me, yeah? i've missed y'all."
half-engaged in conversation with topper and kelce across the garden by the bar, rafe's eyes focus on you, as you throw your head back in a giggle at something john b and pope had said, his grip on his glass tightening. his tongue moves to poke at his cheek when you throw an arm around john b in a hug, and then pope, the ugly green monster inside him threatening to make an appearance, as he brings the glass up to his lips and downs the rest of his whiskey.
"face it, man," jj tuts, refilling his drink when he sets it down on the counter. "she's known us longer than you. it's not gonna last."
"just fill up my glass and shut the fuck up, a'ight?" rafe throws him a glare. "no one asked you."
you enter the bathroom to pee after failing to find sarah again—where the hell could she have possibly gone?—the two wine glasses you had finally catching up to you.
"you've got some nerve showing your face here," kiara's voice fills your ears when you move towards the sink to wash your hands.
when you look up at the mirror, you find her standing behind you. "you're one to talk," you turn off the sink and reach for some paper towards to dry your hands, as you turned to look at her. "weren't you against all these events because they're so ‘tone-deaf'?"
she scoffs and shakes her head. "you're pathetic, you know that? taking jj from me, dumping him for rafe…" this psycho bitch. "then turning him, john b and pope against me…" wait, what? "i mean— seriously, y/n, are you really that desperate for attention?"
you let out a sigh to keep your composure—she wasn't worth the energy it took to stoop down to her level. despite what she and jj had put you through, you were happy. she wasn't taking that away from you.
"i hate to break it to you, but if the boys aren't talking to you, it has nothing to do with me," you tell her. "maybe they just realized who you really are." you shrug, taking a step towards her. "you're a shitty person, kiara. you can try and blame me all you want, but you dug your own grave."
"you—"
"lie in it," you cut her off. "and while you're at it, leave me alone."
you don't allow her to get another word in before walking away, leaving her alone in the bathroom with her own thoughts.
damn that felt good.
"hey stranger," you lean down and snake the arm not holding a glass of wine around rafe's neck, your hand landing on his chest, as he sat at an empty table with a glass of whiskey, sulking.
"done talking to your other boyfriends?" he asks, raising his glass up to his lips.
you tilt your head at him, eyebrows furrowing. "what?"
"i saw you flirting with john b and pope," he says, setting his drink down on the table, as his eyes finally met yours.
they didn't look angry though, more like… sad?
"you thought i was flirting?" you ask, moving to sit in the seat beside him. "they're my friends, babe. i haven't seen them in a while, we were just catching up."
"didn't look like that when you were giggling and hugging them," his eyes avert to his glass on the table, his finger tracing along its rim.
"oh my god," you chuckle, half-amused by his behavior. "are you jealous?"
"why would i be jealous?" he shrugs you off, still refusing to have his eyes meet yours again. "if it's them you want, that's cool."
you sigh, and place a hand on his. "come dance with me."
to your surprise, he doesn't resist when you take his hand in yours and stand up to lead him towards the dance floor, as the band began to play an instrumental rendition of taylor swift's you are in love.
your hands lock behind rafe's neck, while his hands snake around your waist, pulling you close to him, as the two of you slowly began to sway along with the music.
"you're crazy, you know that?" you ask, fingers entwining with the hair on the back of his head.
"how's that?"
"for thinking i'd flirt with someone else when i'm here with you," you say.
"they've known you longer than me," he shrugs. "it's not that crazy."
"i guess,” you shrug. “but you’re forgetting something.”
his eyebrows furrow. “what?”
“they’re not you,” your lips pull together in a smile. "i mean, sure, i've known them longer. yes, we're friends, but they don't hold a candle to you, alright? no one's ever made me feel the way you do."
and it was true. your entire relationship with jj, there was always an uneasy feeling in the depths of your stomach that made you feel like there was always someone else—and it was right, because there was kie. but with rafe? he made you feel like the only girl in the world. it was healing.
"not even jj?"
you chuckle and shake your head. "not even jj."
"and how do i make you feel, doll?" his head tilts to the side, an amused look on his face.
a smirk comes across your lips, eyes locking with his. "how 'bout i show you?"
"shit, baby, what's gotten into you?" rafe smirks against your lips, your body rolling against him and your fingers entwined in his hair.
the two of you were now in the backseat of his truck, tongues dancing together while his hands roamed over your body.
you shrug, jokingly. "wine."
"damn," he muttered. "should get you wine drunk more often."
without your lips ever leaving his, one of your hands trail down his body to slide over the hardness under his pants, eliciting a groan from him.
he pulls away and shakes his head at you, the look in his eyes hungrier than you've ever seen them. "don't tease me, pretty girl."
"i don't plan to," you smirk, hands coming between the two of you to begin unbuckling his belt.
you pull away from him and he leans back on the seat, as you position yourself on your knees, hands working at his belt to pull down his slacks and boxers. his cock springs free and you immediately wrap your fingers around it, rafe's hand landing on your ass to give it a squeeze.
you slowly lean down to take him in your mouth, your mouth swirling around his length as you cupped his balls with your hand.
"fuckkkk," rafe groans, hand trailing up to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail. "just like that, doll."
you lick up his length and swirl your tongue around his tip, making his head tilt back as he began guiding your head to bob up and down.
you feel the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat and you gag, only making rafe hotter.
you release him from your mouth, and tilt your head up to look at him as you began stroking his length up and down. "you gonna cum for me, baby?"
"uh-uh," rafe shakes his head and grabs your hand to stop you, before grabbing you by the waist to sit up so he could untie the back of your dress and pull it off you, until it's lying on the floor of his truck. "come ride me, pretty girl."
he guides your hips to move over him, and you place your hand over his shoulders, your soaked center hovering right above his length.
he doesn't give you the chance to tease him, and immediately pushed you down, his entire length sinking into you and making you throw your head back.
you begin rocking your hips against him and he groans, one hand moving up to grab your tit.
"oh rafe," you moan, your orgasm inching closer and closer as you tangle a hand into his hair and lean against him.
his lips connect to your neck and begins trailing wet kisses, his fingers pinching your nipple and heightening the pleasure you were already feeling.
"so close, baby," rafe whispers against you. "you gonna cum with me?"
"mhm," you nod, barely coherent as your high washes over you.
you tremble when rafe shoots his load and keeps you steady, his head falling against your shoulder.
"did that answer your question?" you pant.
you feel his smirk on your skin before he picks his head up to look at you. "oh yeah."
"and how do you feel about me?"
he brings a hand up and pushes you hair back, eyes scanning every inch of your face. "you're everything."
anddddd that concludes this little series... i think. i've considered writing an epilogue but it'd take place several years after this, so let me know if that's something y'all are even interested in. but until then, i'm very excited to start working on some new fics, so stay tuned :)
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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ln4swiftie · 3 days
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Snowfall
💌 lando norris x reader
💌 hot tub ski trip smut wc: 0.9k
💌 Warnings: smut (p in v), unprotected sex (DONT DO THAT!!!), swearing
💌 author note: hi this is my first ever fic so please be nice to me !! enjoy lovelies <3
The cold winter night surrounded your upper body as you’re sat in the hot tub at the cabin in the mountains you rented along with your boyfriend, Lando and a couple other friends. The formula one season starts soon and you all wanted to spend some time together before you and Lando are in a different part of the world every other week. 
You came out to the hot tub after dinner to wind down since you’ve been skiing all day and the jets work wonders on your muscles. You rest your head on the tub looking up at the ski and breathing in the cool air from the snow sat on the trees isolating the cabin. you shook out of your thoughts to the sound of the door latching and turn your head to see your boyfriend in nothing but his swim trunks and the dark green crocs you bought him for Christmas. 
“Hi my love!” he smiled as he shrugged his crocs off and placed his towel right next to yours on the lawn chair slightly covered in snow. “Did you leave our friends in there all alone?” you teased as he climbed into the hot tub and settled next to you. “Not entirely, Max and P were cleaning the kitchen from dinner so I'm sure they’ll find something to do.” he said while his hand moved to wrap around your shoulders. He kissed your cheek “I haven't seen you all day, how were the slopes?”
“They were okay, boring without you though.” Lando had meetings about the upcoming season so he couldn’t join you and your friends. “Third wheeling is hard.” you whine while lying your head to his shoulder. 
He laughed “well now we know how Max felt for 2 years” he pulled you into his lap “we weren’t very subtle babe” he mutters while his hands find your hips and eventually make their way to your ass. He starts kissing your neck and you can feel himself growing underneath you. 
“wow you really missed me huh?” you tease as your hands find themselves tangled in his curls. “you know it.” is all he says before your lips smash against his. 
In minutes your kiss becomes very heated and soon Lando is catching your moans in his mouth trying not to disturb your friends who’s window is looking out to the hot tub. Lando’s sure that they are doing the same thing as you two but the thought of his best friend catching him like this makes him want to throw up. The second your lips touch his neck his worry fizzles away out of existence and his focus shifts solely on you. 
A quiet whimper leaves his mouth as you find his sweet spot on his neck. “Fuck, baby. ” He mumbles, moving his hands from your waist to come in-between you. He gently moves your bathing suit bottoms to the side and slides a finger through your folds. He quickly glances at you with lust in his eyes, asking for permission, you nod “use your words, love” your head falls to his shoulder in anticipation. 
“Please Lan” you practically moan. Without hesitation he pushes two fingers into you and slowly pumps. moans fall from your mouth as he curls his fingers hitting the spot that makes you see stars. Fuck Lando loves the sounds you make when he’s inside you. His hard cock is begging to be let free from his trunks as he feels your contract around his fingers. He moves his thumb to rub your clit as your breathing gets heavier. “Lan Im so close” you whimper into his shoulder and begin to lightly kiss it, digging your nails into his biceps. 
“I know baby, I know” he speeds up his movements bringing you to your high and finishing on his fingers. You grab his face pulling him in for a kiss causing him to whimper in surprise, bucking his hips into your core to find release for himself. You tug on his swim trunks releasing his cock and start to stroke it. Lando throws his head back with a groan “I need you..” he moans and that’s all he needs to say for you to sink onto him. Both your jaws fall slack as you adjust to the size of him. “holy fuck” you mumble as you begin to rock your hips back and forth. 
Lando is kissing you like it's the last thing he’ll ever get to do “I'm close baby” he says into your lips causing you to increase the pace of your rocking. it's not long before you reach your second high and his cum fills you up, moans fall from both of your lips. Your head falls to his shoulder as you both catch your breath. Lando grabs your chin and makes you look at him “love you” he simply states and places a kiss on your forehead. “Love you too, can we go make hot chocolate?” you ask with an innocent giggle “Of course my love” he smiles, helping you out of the hot tub and wraps you in your towel before wrapping his own around his waist. You two quickly change into hoodies and sweatpants, you choosing to wear one of Lando's quadrant hoodies from his suitcase before heading to the kitchen to make your cups of hot chocolate and sit by the fireplace while you drift off to sleep in Lando’s arms while watching your favourite Christmas movie, Elf. 
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Be nice to me this is my first ever fic, idk if ill write more i probably will because i had fun writing this
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Percy this. Percy that. It was always about Percy Jackson. All the fucking time. 
It was always about the Hero of Olympus, the one who defeated Kronos and led the battle of Manhattan, the one who was offered immortality by the king of the gods himself, the one who restored glory to Rome by returning the golden eagle, the one who became praetor of the Roman camp in 2 weeks with limited training. 
His Roman camp. Jason Grace's Roman camp.
Percy Jackson had pulled off everything in 2 weeks that Jason Grace wasn't able to accomplish despite dedicating his whole life for duty. 11 years of blood, sweat and tears, simply gone down the drain.
Jason had failed his camp. He had failed his home. Turns out, he wasn't as great as the people of Rome had once preached about him. It was obvious considering the less than warm welcome he had gotten from his so-called “home”. 
He received no hugs, no cheers, no “we missed you jason!”, no “I was so worried about you!” or even a single pat on the arm by his “friend” Dakota. Dakota and Gwendolyn hadn't even spared a glance at him.
Nothing. Instead, this new Jackson boy was held up to worship like a god amongst the people who once considered Jason a “hero”.
Jason laughed bitterly. Was it selfish of him to be disappointed with Reyna? With a pang, he got to know that Reyna hadn't sent a single search party out to look for her “best friend”. Not like Annabeth did for Percy, not like Thalia did for Percy.
With a pang, he got to know that the whole camp basically deemed him as ‘dead’ and Reyna hadn't even set up a memorial of remembrance for him. The camp had simply moved on with their new hero. Without a single shred of thought for Jason Grace. 
The forgotten Hero. The lost hero. Jason Grace.
These thoughts of doubt gnawed on Jason's mind, slowly eating him up ever since he'd first seen Percy Jackson in those damned praetor togas that once belonged to him. 
He didn't dislike the boy, of course not, it wasn't Percy's fault that Hera wiped their memories or switched camps.
 But it was hard for Jason to not resent him, or feel even the tiniest amount of envy, knowing that Reyna willingly replaced him with Jackson. Very quickly too, at that. He overheard Octavian blabbing to his lackeys about how Reyna “was head over heels for Percy almost immediately” 
“I guess that's it. Maybe I am someone who is easy to replace.” Jason thought, his eyes pricking as he looked over from the flying ship, at the place he once used to call home. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jason watched remorsefully as Thalia, Grover, Percy and Annabeth were all gathered at the table in camp half blood, cracking jokes about dam french fries or whatever that meant.
Thalia caught Jason's eyes, staring at all of them from a distance. She smiled softly, and gave him a tiny wave. He weaved his lips into something that was meant to look like a wry smile, but it came out as a slight grimace, as he waved back.
Thalia was so close to Jason, yet so far away.
He knew she loved him, but it felt different. And an annoying, nagging part of Jason had known that Thalia would never be as close to him as she was to Annabeth or Percy. 
Ironic isn't it? Jason and Thalia were always connected since they came from the same womb, yet she was closer to Annabeth, a girl she'd found after she had run away from the same woman that had given Jason to the wolves. The same woman who had turned his life upside down by abandoning him. 
Thalia had found Annabeth right after she thought she had lost Jason. In a strangely ironic way, Jason felt like he'd been replaced all over again.
Thalia had replaced Jason as a younger sibling with Annabeth without even realizing it, all of this took place mere months after a baby Jason was considered to be dead. This situation had strangely reminded him of Camp Jupiter, how he was replaced by Percy right after Jason was considered “dead” by Camp Jupiter.
This made Jason reach the possibility that if he were indeed “dead”, he wouldn't be missed. People wouldn't bat an eyelash. Since there was always someone better than him. Someone like Percy Jackson, who could easily fill the void Jason would leave behind.
His eyes watered, as he looked at how much fun his sister had with his friends. Knowing full well, that he'd never be able to do the same.
Jason felt ashamed that he had to ask Percy about Thalia’s likes and dislikes, he was thalia’s brother. He was supposed to know.
Jason watched as Thalia quickly hugged the trio, as she left their table to leave with the hunters, not even realizing that there was one person whom she forgot to hug.
Don't take it personally. Don't take it personally. She just forgot. She doesn't hate you. She just forgot. She doesn't prefer Percy over you. She's in a hurry. That's why she forgot. Jason repeated that like a mantra, the only person he was trying to convince was himself.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“And he rejected immortality!- oh you should've seen Zeus' face!” Annabeth exclaimed to Hazel excitedly, as Percy was blushing at the compliment fountain being poured at him by Hazel and Annabeth.
Jason had always been fascinated by that story, the almighty Percy Jackson getting offered to become a god, by Zeus.
His father. Jason's father, Zeus. 
Jason felt stupid and guilty for getting envious, it's not the fact that Percy had been offered immortality, no. Jason couldn't care less about being immortal. It was the person who offered Percy invincibility that bothered Jason so much. 
Jason knew that even if he went to the ends of the world to accomplish something, his father wouldn't be able to praise him or even talk to him for a long time. 
Zeus and Jason could never be like Hades and Nico, or Poseidon and Percy. That's just how it is.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Reyna had come to camp half blood for a fun visit. Jason would've been ecstatic in other circumstances, but in this case, he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. Because currently, Reyna seemed to be looking at everyone, but refused to meet Jason's eyes. She seemed to keep her distance as she laughed at something Percy and Piper were saying. 
She may as well have just stabbed him, it would've hurt a lot less. 
He had truly been naive to believe that he could make amends with Reyna. Now he knew, it would never be possible. There was too much pain mixed with bitterness on both ends. But seeing her get along with Percy reminded him of the old times of friendship he and Reyna had shared. Keyword: had.
Once again, the fates had shown him that Percy Jackson would always be better. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As Jason Grace lay on the cold floor, coughing out blood. He realized he was alone, he was dying, but he was alone.
Like always. The sickly voice of Gaia, that had once haunted his nightmares, boomed in his head. Jason knew he was hallucinating as a result of blood loss, Gaia is in deep slumber. But that did not stop the voice in his head that was invented by his insecurities. Even in the end, you've been forgotten, Jason Grace. Because that's what you will always be. The second best. The leftover. The pawn who is discarded, after his purpose has been fulfilled. Percy Jackson would always be better in everyone's eyes. 
To the Romans, you are simply the one who betrayed his lineage. But Percy is the one who restored glory. He did your job for you.
To the Greeks, you are simply a burden, one whom they were forced to welcome.
To your father, you are merely one of his many sons. 
To your sister, you are a stranger.
Jason's resolve to live had weakened, hot tears were streaming down his face as he closed his eyes in defeat, he had come to the painful conclusion that nobody is going to come find his body. Nobody is going to mourn him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Oh I will always be much better than you at this! Bring it on, dude!” Percy laughed as he striked his play sword lightsaber at Jason's. They clashed. 
“You wish, Jackson!” Jason shot back jokingly, as they sparred playfully with toy lightsabers.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Jackson, you jerk. You were right after all, you will always be much better than me” Jason laughed bitterly, as he recalled that memory of his sparring session with Percy.
 Suddenly everything went black. The life had successfully ebbed out of him.
Little did Jason know, was that someone had indeed come to look for him. Tempest, his Pegasus had come to retrieve his body, but Jason was long gone. People had indeed mourned him. His friends were, indeed, anguished. His sister was, indeed, heartbroken.
Jason's soul parted this world, with the knowledge that he'd always be The forgotten Hero. 
The lost hero. Jason Grace.
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slushycoookie · 9 hours
Text
My Husband has a Symbiote! Pt.4
Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4
Relationship: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB! Reader
Word Count: 2.9k
Content: Miguel is showing off his breeding kink again, somnophilia, oral sex, pregnancy sex (kinda), MINORS DNI!!
Summary: It's the big thing you've all been waiting for.
A/N: Every time I write Miguel with a symbiote, I go crazy. He just brings that feral part out of me. Enjoy!
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You felt exhausted.
The weight of your exhaustion felt like a ton. You could barely move your body, struggling to even get to the bathroom. You managed to make it to the sink as you leaned on it for support. Your eyes are fighting to keep open. All you wanted to do was rest.
“You should take Ravage.” Miguel stood close by, a hand on your back. His voice lingered with concern, “They'll make you feel better.”
You shook your head, “I had them the other day.” You agreed to take the symbiote once a week. Just so you wouldn't get addicted to having them attached to you. You didn't want to take advantage of using the alien either.
“You've been feeling this way for a few weeks. I don't like it, we should get you to a doctor.” You grimaced at your husband's concern. “Don't be like that. We have to see what's going on.”
You glared at him, annoyance brewing inside. “We’ve been having sex nonstop. Don't you think I'd be tired?”
“Obviously.” He rolled his eyes, “But you're never like this.”
“I'm fine, Miguel. I just need to sleep.” You brushed by him, completely forgetting whatever you were supposed to be doing in the bathroom. Instead, you burrowed yourself under the blankets, getting comfortable in bed.
You thought due to the constant love making your body had enough. Punishing you by making you sleep for hours on end. Only getting enough energy for potty breaks and to eat something. Before sleeping again. It was getting so bad that you had to take some days off of work. You were shutting yourself inside your bedroom, determined to rest.
On your days having Ravage, you felt normal. Going through your day-to-day routine with no issues. Not getting irritated at Miguel or eating your weight in food.
Ravage hummed in your mind as you worked, feeling rejuvenated. “Should we tell you?”
“Hm?” You perked up, “Tell me what?”
A guttural growl erupted from the alien, “But if we tell you, there will be little intercourse.”
“What? Ravage, what are you talking about?”
There was silence on their end. You wondered if they were just ignoring you. But you finally got a response, “Nothing.”
You weren't sure how to take the mysterious behavior. You didn't see any concern for you to bring it up to Miguel. Only forgetting about it when your symptoms came back after handing Ravage back. Maybe it was time to go to the doctor's.
Miguel was close by as he took you to HQ's infirmary. He was worried that if it was something the symbiote was doing to you, no regular doctor could fix it. You sat on the cot, lowered eyes watching your husband pace around the room. Your stomach churned thinking about how you made him stress over you. Due to your stubbornness of not wanting to be seen. Hopefully, this was just a really bad cold so he wouldn't have to worry.
While explaining your symptoms, your spider-doctor, that's what you usually called them, lit up with an idea. And didn't elaborate further when saying they wanted to perform some tests. Miguel stayed by your side, holding your hand to calm himself for whatever's going on. He's usually touchy feely when he's nervous or stressed.
At what felt like hours, which was only 20 minutes, the doctor came back with the test results.
You were pregnant.
The doctor showed you the positive results so you could see with their own eyes. The bolded, green colored word succumbed to their vision. You was pregnant. They were going to have a baby.
Your heart pounded in your chest at the exciting news. For some reason, the idea was way below your thoughts as you didn't think you were showing any of the common symptoms. The spider-doctor reassured you that each person was different in terms of pregnancy. Some checked off all the boxes in terms of the symptoms. Others wouldn't even know if they were pregnant until their belly got bigger.
Miguel’s hand pressed against your stomach, face filled with a mix of disbelief and happiness. “We’re having a baby.”
“Yeah.” You placed a hand on top of his, “We are.”
The doctor recommended you continue getting rest. The exhaustion will fade away in due time but other symptoms may appear. Heavy eating, nausea or vomiting, mood swings, and back pain. You were more concerned about work, knowing you didn't have infinite time to take off. You couldn't take off a bunch of times to rest. Miguel said he would take care of it, even offering to pay your salary if you didn’t have any time left.
In fact, once you got home, a flip switched inside him.
He was usually attentive, close by and understanding. Now he was that by tenfold. When you arrived home, he constantly asked how you were feeling. If you needed to lie down or eat. You let him fret over you as he carried you to bed. You were feeling peckish so he gave you a list of food he could get. So you settled on pizza.
Constant messages appeared saying congratulations. Someone must've heard the spider doctors give the news. Now your watch blew up with activity of spiders wishing you well. Multiple requests appeared, asking if they could babysit the baby once they were born. You particularly noticed ones from Ben who also ended up coming over to make sure he was the first person to be called to watch the baby. You couldn’t say no to those cute puppy dog eyes.
Jess also stopped by in person to congratulate you, just as excited at her baby finally having another kid to play with. She went over her entire pregnancy experience to give you some tips. How she had the weirdest cravings like pickles with chocolate ice cream. Or how her bump got in the way a few times. Although, you knew the experiences were going to be different at the fact you were talking to a superhero. Who still fought crime while pregnant with her baby. You weren't sure you could make it to the bathroom in your current state.
Peter B. and MJ also came over one day to offer endless amounts of advice when it comes to babies. And their own experience with Mayday.
“Peter had sympathetic pregnancy for a while.” MJ admitted, causing Miguel and you to raise their brows in surprise. “He was miserable around the last couple of months.”
“I swear to you, my back was hurting all the time. I was bloated and nauseous. I'm surprised we didn't have two babies when Mayday was born.”
You laughed at Peter, “Poor you.”
“Of course he'd get that.” Miguel shook his head, close to you as you all sat on the couch.
“Hey, don't be surprised when you suddenly start feeling gassy. I was just happy to finally relate to my lady.” Peter gave a gentle kiss on MJ's forehead.
The married couple also left tons of material involving babies for them to read. Self-help books, videos, even started giving them some of Mayday's baby clothes to help prepare. You were excited to finally start planning for the baby to arrive if you could stop feeling so tired first.
You were lucky to have a wonderful husband.
Miguel made it a point to do everything in the house. Cook and clean. Tidy up the house if it needs tending. He often did his part around the house when you weren't pregnant. Now, he insisted on doing everything for you. Emphasizing that your rest was important. That he wasn’t going to let you overexert yourself if he was there. All while caressing you for reassurance.
He had also gotten more handsy than usual.
He was constantly nearby when he didn’t have to work. A hand on your belly, gently pressing against it. His warmth comforted you and soothed any worries you might have had about the baby. Soon, his hand went upward, a feel of your breast and a grunt in your ear. His hips rocking against your plump bottom. You wiggled your ass against his in small reciprocation but a yawn combated your rising arousal.
That made him stop.
“You should get some rest, baby.”
You shook your head, “I'm fine, we can-” Another yawn occurred, denouncing any argument you had.
“Let’s just sleep.” Miguel kissed your forehead before leading you to bed. You noticed his bulge and your stomach twisted with guilt. Miguel was extremely understanding, not once making you feel bad of your decreased energy. But you knew it wouldn't last long. You had read those horror stories of husband’s not desiring their partner as they were pregnant. Which led to frustrations or cheating. You knew your husband wouldn’t ever do that to you. But you couldn’t help but worry.
You had a proposition for him after making out with your husband one evening. Miguel gazed at you with apparent lust as he groped and kissed you with a burning passion. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah…” He gave you a gentle kiss. “My wife is pregnant. Why wouldn't I be?”
Your fingers laced through his own, “I just thought you were nervous. Since we're going to be parents.”
“I am. The thought of us with a child excites me and scares me…” You could feel a ‘but’ coming as he continued, “but seeing you like this, gets me going. Like I want to make sure you stay pregnant.”
His crimson eyes lowered, entranced at the sight of your belly. It hasn't grown much yet, still early for you to be showing. A shiver went down your spine at his gaze, “Is this you talking or Ravage?”
“No, no I think this is all me.” Miguel pulled you in close, hands remaining on your hips. “I want to make sure you stay knocked up. Be by baby making machine…” You noticed his breathing getting heavier at him riling himself up. “But you've been tired and you have no obligation to indulge me. I'm not going to exhaust you out further.” That's when he reluctantly parted, showing some restraint.
“Well, I did have an idea.” You started to say. You had been talking about messing around while the other was asleep. It was consensual and only if the other was extremely tired and couldn't participate as much. You thought this would be a great time to try. “You have my permission to use me while I'm asleep.”
Miguel perked up, “Really?” You nodded, “Are you sure? You don’t have to do this for me.” You nodded again, letting out a small laugh.
“I want to do this. Just be gentle. I'd rather not wake up to you jostling me all over the place.”
“I will.” He pulled you back in for a hug, holding you tight.
You thought this would be the beginning of him using you while you slept. But after a few days of permission, there was nothing. You felt the same after waking up for the day or from your naps. No clear evidence of you being fondled. No delightful warmness between your thighs. Miguel was cautious. You thought he wasn't ready to do that.
Until you had an incredible dream. One where he was behind you in bed, a leg draped across his arm, cock buried inside you. He was in his symbiote suit again as the large shaft was splitting you open. You heaved from the aching sensation, mind heavy and focused on him being inside. Whimpering his name as he gently thrusts into you.
Your walls are squeezing him as you climax, wrapped in bliss. He's never too far behind, his voice strained as he comes inside, lazy pumping into you to make sure not a drop is missed. The dream ended with a kiss and when you awoke, your body felt like liquid. Your attire was still the same, usually a pair of shorts with a large tshirt but your sex warm. Legs slightly sore and Miguel snoring peacefully from behind. A strong arm wrapped around the area where their child is forming.
You never caught the actions while you slept. Your dreams gave you a clear indication of what he was doing to you. Giving you satisfaction while also ensuring he didn't wake you.
Slowly, your exhaustion started to fade. The need for naps lessened, but you were still tired. So when you took a nap on the couch, that pleasant dream was coming back again. This time Miguel was buried between your legs, tasting you like there was no tomorrow. You sighed in relief before waking up to see the real thing.
The hunched position of his symbiote form over the armrest of the couch. Spreading your legs wide and pinning you down against the cushions to keep you still. Miguel made it a mission to remember every taste of you, his long tongue running along your folds, stimulating your clit.
“Miguel…” You moaned, eyes lowered at the sight. His head raised, eyes boring into yours in lust.
“Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you.”
“It's fine.” You muttered, “Don't stop…” You pushed his head back down and he obliged. The small lick and sucking sounds would make you blush if you weren't half asleep. But the occasional growl against your sex made you curl your toes. You sighed, feeling your body warm up. Your fingers dug into the pillow under you while you shifted under his hold. Miguel continued to press further into you, moaning against your sex like a starved man.
That familiar feeling pooled in your stomach, your breaths getting short. Lips parting to release the sound of ecstacy. Creating warmth around your frame. You weren't sure how long Miguel was eating you out as his mouth shined in the light.
“You should continue to get some rest.” Miguel’s gigantic frame towered over you, the sofa creaking from the weight. “I can take care of you.”
Your mind was long gone as his hips rolled against yours, entering you slowly. Hard thrusts savoring the moment. Watching you sleepily cry out for him below, the grip on his bicep non-existent. Tears fell from the corners of your eyes as you begged for him to not stop.
“We're gonna make sure our kid has a sibling.” He grunted, face twisted in pleasure. “A brother? A sister? Maybe if we're lucky, twins…”
You gasped, arching your back as another climax took you by surprise. Miguel’s own thrusts started to falter, his cum shooting inside quicker than he could blink. Once again he made sure you took it all, not missing a single drop.
He buried his face on your head, the symbiote suit disappearing and showing off his naked form. Miguel held you close as if he missed the heat from your skin. “I'm sorry…I really didn't mean to wake you.”
Your heart melted at his large eyes filled with guilt.
“It's okay. It was nice to wake up to.” Your lips found his again to give a soft kiss. Miguel lifted you up, still adamant on making sure she had enough sleep by carrying her to the bedroom.
Soon, you were starting to show. And your energy was back to normal. No more sleeping all day. Your mind became clearer. Which made you finally think about your extra guest.
Miguel said he'd get rid of Ravage after it was clear you were pregnant. Yet, it’s been a few months since then and the symbiote was still here. No one brought it up so of course you had to be the one to do it.
“So? When is Ravage leaving?” Miguel paused in the middle of his work, not saying anything for a bit. You could tell they were speaking as the silence lingered in his lab. “Miguel-”
“Ravage thought they could stay a little longer. At least until the baby is born.” He interrupted.
You purse your lips, “That's not what we agreed on.”
Your tone didn't match up with your words. In all honesty, you didn't want Ravage to go. It was bad enough Miguel had to cut off them from being attached to you after you got pregnant. Not wanting to affect the baby. But you missed them. Feeding them chocolate bars or hot cocoa. Keeping you company when Miguel had to work late. It was odd to develop a decent relationship with an alien but you had to remind yourself that your entire life was weird.
“We won't cause any harm to the child.” Ravage came out to say. “Your husband's been making us watch baby videos. Their laughs are infectious.”
Your brows furrowed at the thought of the symbiote watching baby videos, “You serious?”
“Yes.” They said, “We have no urge to eat the baby anymore.”
“Anymore.” You pointed out, “That means you thought about it.”
“Multiple times.”
Miguel quickly cut in, “But they said they don't want to do that now.” He held your hands, “You know I don't want anything to happen to this baby, right?” You squeezed his hands, believing him wholeheartedly. “I promise you, I will die before I let anything happen to our kid. Trust me. Trust us.”
“You know I do.” You embraced him, head in his chest.
Somehow, that comforted you. You agreed to at least let them stay until the baby was born. Although, in the back of your mind, you had a feeling they may be keeping them much longer than that.
78 notes · View notes
ellieslaces · 1 day
Text
KISSING LESSONS.
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featuring: hazel callahan x fem!cheerleader!reader
synopsis: Hazel’s worst decision was to join her friend’s fight club, until she met you. or, really got to know you, she knew you, you just didn’t know her. she never thought a cheerleader, much less one of the prettiest girls in the school, would ever pay attention to her. until you did.
content warnings: harsh language; mentions of violence; internalized homophobia; light smut; kissing (wlw); so much loser lesbianism; some homophobic slang (faggot, munch)
notes: mentions of violence (duh, it’s lesbian fight club); mentions of reader being bisexual (more toward women tho); homophobic slang (faggot, munch, etc) ; there is no real smut in this as i do not write explicit content containing minors.
word count: 3.13k
chloe talks: watched bottoms and then hyperfixated on Hazel for two weeks before I decided to write this. God, I need her so bad. Chloe has a type doesn’t she? (soft mascs make me hhnngg). hazels so fucking cute I need her to kiss me ok bye. <3 (also, I hate the way this turned out, I’m so sorry it’s terrible)
now playing: kissing lessons ; lucy dacus
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Fight Club — a popular 1990’s film, that’s all those two words had ever meant to you. You’d never even seen the film, you just knew it was fucking gay, despite it not actually being about the hot topic of homosexuality amongst young men (or women, in your case). But, I digress.
It had been your friends, Isabel and Brittany, who managed to get your ass to attend your school’s resident Fight Club. A women’s Fight Club. How fucking gay. Oh well, it would teach you how to defend yourself properly. Which, in this day and age — or any day and age of we’re honest — is horribly necessary.
It shouldn’t be, but knowing how to beat the shit out of a grown man is something you should know how to do. Self defense isn’t a topic to be taken lightly, and it seemed PJ and Josie knew this.
PJ and Josie — or faggot #1 and faggot #2 as the school knew more endearingly — where the school’s resident ‘ugly and untalented gays’, as Jeff and his little crew liked to say. Really, you suspected they were all just pissed because the girls knew their way around a pussy better than any of them did. They wouldn’t know the clit if it slapped them in the face.
It had been about two weeks into the girls’ club that Isabel and Britany attended for the first time. They showed up to cheer practice the following day with busted lips and bruised faces. At first, you hadn’t known what happened. Maybe Jeff’s dramatics had finally gotten the better of him. But no, they had willingly gotten beaten up for the sake of learning how to better throw a punch.
Finally, after hours upon hours of begging and pleading, Britany and Isabel got you to attend a meeting. You had walked in, nerves wrecking your body as you trailed unsurely behind the two girls you considered your best friends. You trusted them, they wouldn’t let something bad happen.
You had planned to spend your first meeting simply observing, but PJ tried so hard to convince you to join in. She almost even pushed you into the fucking ring. When you finally conceded, you were face to face with Hazel Callahan.
You knew of her, but you didn’t know her. You’d passed her a few times in the hall, you had a science class with her. Jeff said she was another one of those ‘loud mouth munches’ — to which you nearly punched him square in the nose had he not been Isabel’s boyfriend and a complete moron.
Hazel seemed nice, she’d smiled in your direction when you walked into the gym. It was a nice gesture, no matter the awkward air it held. You felt sort of bad for putting her in the situation she was in, even though it was PJ’s fault that she now had to fight you.
You stood awkwardly, fists raised in a defensive position, eyes on Hazel as she stood in front of you. She smiled again, still awkward as it had been when you walked in. You were set on not getting the shit beat out of you.
As soon as PJ’s whistle sounded, you barely gave Hazel a chance to move. She’d shifted on her feet, sending a spark of fear through you, causing you to send a punch straight to her face. You’d gasped, watching her face scrunch up as her own hands flew up to cup her nose.
“Oh my God, I’m so fucking sorry.” You cried, stepping forward, ignoring the claps and cheers falling obnoxiously from PJ’s lips.
Hazel let out a choked laugh, brows raised as she held her nose. “No uh, nice hit. Fuck, that was a good one.” She blinked rapidly, momentarily lowering her hands.
You let out a small squeak as you saw that her nose was indeed bleeding. “Shit, your nose.” You stepped forward again, trying to find something to stop the bleeding. But of course, there wasn’t anything you had on you.
“Alright, Hazel’s fine. Let’s move on.” PJ droned, giving her whistle another sharp blow — she really abused her whistle privileges, you thought as you ushered Hazel toward the bleachers.
Hazel gave a thumbs up — her hand covered in blood that dripped from her nose — as she walked toward the bleachers. No one seemed to notice other than you as you walked with her. You felt so bad, so terrible because now this girl was bleeding because of you.
“I’m sorry,” you weakly apologized again, sitting in front of her on the bleachers, looking frantically around for something to give her to stop the bleeding.
“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Hazel shook her head, trying to convince you she was fine. Even though you both knew she wasn’t.
“Uh fuck, there isn’t anything — don’t do that.” You’d cut yourself off quick, voice deadpanned.
Hazel paused, her head half leaning backward as she looked over in your direction. Her ringed fingers pinched the bridge of her nose — it seemed she’d had the idea to lean her head back to stop the bleeding.
“Lean your head forward, not backward. If you go backwards, the blood could go into your lungs. Go forward and let it drip out.” You instructed, pulling her hand down gently by her wrist, moving to take off your cardigan so she could hold it below her face to catch the blood as it dripped.
“How do you know that?” Hazel questioned, brows pulled in a frown as she leaned her face forward so the blood could freely drip from her nose onto the bundle of fabric in her hands.
“I had to get a certificate to be able to babysit.” You shrugged, moving the strands of hair from her face without thinking about it. When you’d realized what you’d done, you froze, dropping your hand in embarrassment, muttering a sad ‘sorry’ again.
Hazel shook her head, not responding verbally to your millionth apology. Your cheeks warmed, suddenly so embarrassed for an entirely different reason. Not just for punching Hazel square in the nose, but you’d managed to embarrass yourself by noticing just how pretty she was.
Hazel sat on the bottom row of the bleachers in the gym, watching the rest of the group fight each other in turns, different girls winning. Some had busted lips, others a myriad of bruises spattered across their faces.
You took the time to notice just how pretty Hazel was — a sharp jawline that would make Jeff jealous, brunette hair that mussed in just the right way and looked so goddamn soft, her nose that was long and straight save for the small bump in the bridge that made your throat constrict. God, she really was a sight. How hadn’t you noticed sooner?
Maybe it was the fact that Hazel wasn’t in your social circle. You were a cheerleader, friends with Isabel and Britany, the focus of stares. Hazel was a loser — in the kindest and most endearing way — someone who wasn’t popular. Someone who had hardly any friends. And despite the fact that today was maybe the third time in your entire life you’d ever spoken to her, you wanted to be one of her friends.
A quick, sharp quip of PJ’s whistle brought you back to the present, her loud voice announcing the day’s session was over. You blinked, looking away from Hazel. Who somehow didn’t seem to notice you’d just spent the past five or so minutes just studying her face.
She turned to you, eyes apologetic as she held out your crumpled cardigan in her hands. “It’s really bloody, sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. You can keep it,” you shook your head, holding out your hand. It was only after the words came out of your mouth that realized how stupid that sounded. “I mean, it’s just, you don’t have to give it back. I don’t like it that much anyways. And it’ll probably stain. That sounds bad, I’m sorry.”
Hazel smiled a little at your words that seemed to stumble out of your mouth. You regretted every single one of them. You moved to take the cardigan anyway, acting as if you hadn’t told her to just keep it. But she pulled it back.
“I’ll wash it.” She said simply, standing. There were specks and smears of dried blood on and below her nose. You felt another pang of guilt then, seeing that your punch would definitely cause a bruise across her nose.
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” You shook your head, standing as well. Isabel and Britany stood a few feet away, clearly waiting for you to come over. You didn’t want to though, for some reason.
“It’s fine. I’ll see you at the next meeting right?” Hazel asked, not relenting and continuing to hold the cardigan in her hands as she started to back away.
“Uh, yeah, I guess so.” You shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. You didn’t really want to come back. Not since you’d punched Hazel and made her bleed on your first meeting. But, maybe this would be a good incentive to come back. To see her.
“Cool,” Hazel grinned, nodding in your direction before she walked toward where PJ and Josie stood. You remained sentient for a moment, hands folded in front of your lap as you watched Hazel.
“Jesus, you hit hard.” Isabel’s voice rang in your ears as she and Britany approached, the latter’s eyes wide as she looked at your hand.
“Might want to wash your hands,” the girl motioned to your dominant hand — the knuckles were spotted in blood from where you’d punched Hazel and blood had immediately started to pour from her nose.
Your eyes latched onto the specks of blood on your knuckles, brows creased as you stared. Bright, rusty red adorned the skin of your knuckles, bits of Hazel Callahan’s DNA there. It was strange, but it made you smile.
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The attendance of the fight club had steadily grown — girls coming to the gym after school to brush up on their combat skills. All in preparation for the upcoming football game against Huntington. The fear ever since one girl had gotten attacked by one of the boys and word had gotten around about it.
So, attendance had spiked, the ‘female solidarity’ — as PJ liked to call it — had risen in the school, even the girls were kinder and nicer to one another. And your mind was muddled with constant pictures and thoughts of Hazel Callahan.
It was confusing — you’d never felt such a strong connection to someone you hardly knew. Hazel was as much a mystery to you as the rest of the ‘ugly, untalented gays’. Meaning she was a huge fucking mystery. Sure, you were vaguely aware that her parents had divorced, and that the girl mostly kept in the background in school. But other than that, Hazel was purely mysterious to you. And you found yourself wanting to know more.
To remedy thhs, you continued to attend fight club, naturally. Yes, you shared a class or two with the girl, but nowhere else did you have the chance to actually interact with her. To converse with her, hear her voice, see her smile. God, what a loser you were.
It wasn’t until two weeks later that you’d come to realize how disgustingly and embarrassingly obvious your infatuation with Hazel was. And what made it worse — it was PJ who brought it to your attention.
“Yo!” PJ’s obnoxious voice rang through the gym as you stood in the circle with the rest of the girls, watching Silvia and Brittany spar, your name on the girl’s lips as she spoke. “Quick eye-fucking Hazel and pay attention! Huntington is like, two weeks away.”
Your cheeks flamed a bright red as you sunk into yourself, shoulders curling in. God, you wanted a chance at PJ in that ring to strangle the fuck out of her for that. Your eyes quickly cut over to where Hazel stood — her own cheeks dusted with light pink as she avoided your gaze.
Great, now she probably wouldn’t talk to you at all. Fuck PJ and her obnoxious, loud mouth. Your embarrassment was not short lived as the fight club went on. You couldn’t look in Hazel’s direction at all as you waited out the meeting until its end so you could retreat with your tail between your legs and never show your face in this gym again.
It was as you shouldered your backpack, heart still racing, stomach still uneasy with embarrassment that you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You turned, eyes going wide as you were face to face with Hazel. Your eyes trailed down to a bundle of fabric in her hands.
“Sorry it took so long, but uh, I got the blood out.” She held out what turned out to be your cardigan. The cardigan that you’d leant her two weeks ago when you’d punched her too hard.
“Um, you didn’t have to do that.” You said, offering a sheepish smile as she held out the cardigan. You gingerly took it, eyes locked on Hazel’s face. As you grabbed it, you swore you could feel a spark when your fingers brushed against hers. A fucking spark — cliche but true.
It was silent between you two for a moment before Hazel shook her head, jutting her thumb over her shoulder. “Sorry about PJ. Things kind of come out of her mouth without her brain processing first.”
Yikes, Hazel meant the ‘eye-fucking’ comment. You offered a small, horribly obvious chuckle. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”
There was another long stretch of silence between you and Hazel, your lips pulled to the side as you held the folded — she’d fucking folded it, Jesus she was adorable — cardigan in your hands. It was strange, but not too uncomfortable. Like that stupid thing from Pulp Fiction, the right person is someone that silence isn’t awkward with.
“I wasn’t eye-fucking you.” You blurted. Great, you made it awkward again. A small groan fell from your lips, head dropping as you closed your eyes with a frown. You shook your head. “Sorry, I dunno what’s wrong with me today.”
“PJ’s just jealous.” Hazel offered with a small laugh. How could one solidarity laugh sound so beautiful?
“Of what?” You asked gingerly, looking up to meet her eyes. For some reason, you were weary of her answer.
“That you aren’t giving her attention. Besides, I don’t think she’d know what to do with your attention anyway, you’re so pretty.” She said it not as an insult to PJ — or at least it didn’t sound like it — but more as an obvious fact. And you were stunned because Hazel had just called you pretty.
You were at a loss. A true loss. How the hell were you supposed to respond to that? So, like an idiot, you just stared at her blankly, eyes confused and wide.
Her own eyes went wide, brows furrowed as a worried look crossed her features. “Shit, was that too much? Too much. Fuck.” Her voice lowered as she cursed, brows knit together.
“No! Not too much, I just… I just didn’t think you thought I was pretty too.” You shrugged, quick to correct her. Quick to reassure that you were flattered and not weirded out.
“I mean yeah, of course I do.” Hazel nodded, her voice soft, words intentional like her statement was an obvious fact.
A smile spread across your face, cheeks warm again. You weren’t sure why, but you suddenly felt so much about Hazel. You’d never had a crush on a girl before. It was new and strange, but you definitely thought this was a crush.
“Thanks.” You whispered, eyes darting down to the cardigan in your hands for a moment before going back to looking up at Hazel. “For the compliment, and bringing back my cardigan. You didn’t have to wash it.”
“It’s fine, I wanted to. It’s a nice cardigan.” Hazel shrugged. It seemed she was at a loss for what to say around you too.
The gym was near empty by now — Josie and PJ chattering away in the far corner, and Isabel and Brittany waiting for you (but not paying attention to anyone but themselves) by the gym doors a few feet away.
So, due to the empty state of the gym and the disgustingly thick tension between you and Hazel, you stepped forward, pressing a quick and gentle kiss to her cheek.
This took the girl by surprise. Her eyes went wide as your lips pressed to her soft cheek. You leaned back, her brows creased as she watched you.
“Thanks,” you said again, with a shrug. Letting her know that was your way of thanking her. Small, but meaningful to you.
It was a long moment that you stood there, Hazel staring at you with wide eyes. For a couple of long seconds, you thought you’d fucked up. Misread the situation, mistook the tension for something else. But, you were proven wrong as she leaned forward, closing the distance between you by pressing her mouth to yours.
“You’re welcome.” She murmured as she leaned back, your eyes wide now from processing that Hazel had just kissed. That you’d just had your first girl-kiss. Fucking scary, but nice. You liked it. Liked her.
“I’ve never done that.” You whispered, blinking rapidly to ground yourself. “With, with a girl, I mean.” You corrected yourself almost instantly.
You’d kissed a guy or two before. Sadly, your first ever kiss was Tim at the ninth grade freshman dance. He was a bad kisser and you hated it. But, you liked how Hazel kissed. Despite it being a quick peck, it was full of intention and it was gentle too.
Hazel shrugged, a small half smile forming on her lips. “Maybe I can give you lessons.”
You grinned, laughing a little as you nodded, backing away toward the gym doors, needing to escape before you said anything else stupid. “Yeah, that’d be nice. I’ll send you my address.”
“Okay,” Hazel nodded, grinning widely to herself as you mentioned her coming over.
You almost skipped as you walked out of the gym, trailing behind Isabel and Brittany as the girls chittered away, the prospect that Hazel would be giving you fucking kissing lessons. You held the bundle of fabric close to your chest as you walked to your car. And it was then you noticed it smelled like Hazel. The detergent, obviously. But, there was something else that was just Hazel. And you never wanted it to go away. Maybe, you could wear it while she gave you kissing lessons that night.
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heauxvibez · 1 day
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Kissing On My Tattoos
warning: eehh, naur warning. Maybe just a sprinkle of a moan in there, but nothing harmful :)
Roman texting you while you're on a date has never been out of the ordinary. Especially if you had no interest in the guy.
A smile lit up Roman's face every time his phone buzzed, knowing it was a message from you, signaling that you weren't enjoying yourself.
Baby Girl💕: Can you come pick me up when he drops me off?
Biting his bottom lip, Roman typed the following words,
Sure thing baby girl. Just let me know when you get home.
His brown eyes brightened, he couldn't wait to see you. Just the thought of you made his heart race which he hated but loved at the same time. He just wanted to have fun. But you, oh, you yearned for something deeper, something more profound, especially with him.
When he confessed his attraction for you but made it clear he wasn't ready for anything serious, it broke you, leaving a bittersweet ache in your heart. Yet, you understood. Some people couldn't fathom the idea of commitment. And Roman, he was one of them.
He did put an offer on the table though, he put forth the idea of ya'll becoming friends with benefits. No strings attached whatsoever.
You were very hesitant and you thought about the offer for at least 2 weeks. You were putting your feelings on the line and knew it wasn't worth it but you really wanted to be with him. And if that was the only way you could have him, then so be it.
It's been 3 months since you've agreed and to be honest, you have enjoyed it. Besides the fact that Roman always.. and I mean always flirted with other girls in front of you. But hey, that's what you signed up for.
Before you knew it, you were dipping your toes into the waters of other men's attention. After all, if Roman was playing the field, why shouldn't you? The plan was simple: keep him around until someone else came along who truly made you feel the way he did.
Roman had picked up on it. Your absence hadn't gone unnoticed, not with you off on dates with other guys. And weirdly enough, he was feeling... jealous? Roman had never really been the green-eyed type, but lately, something was stirring inside him. He knew he shouldn't be, given he'd been messing around with other girls while fooling around with you. But still, that twinge of envy lingered.
He wanted you all to himself, plain and simple. Yeah, he knew it was selfish and unfair, but that's just how he felt, and nothing could shake that.
Lately, he'd been keeping his distance from the other girls he'd been seeing. It was like he was slowly cutting ties with them, realizing that his heart belonged to you and you alone.
Slipping into a black tee and his favorite Nike sandals, Roman checked his phone after getting a text from you.
Your date didn't go as planned, and now all you wanted was for Roman to bring back that smile to your face.
___
"Thanks for picking me up Ro, tonight was horrible.."
You collapsed onto his bed, sprawling out on your stomach. His scent enveloped you, his cologne mingling with the familiar smell of his sheets. You melted into the mattress, feeling completely at ease. Your muscles relaxed, and so did your mind. It was pure bliss.
He settled on the edge of the bed near your feet, releasing a heavy sigh.
"No problem, baby."
Internally, you melted. When he called you baby, it sent shivers down your spine, but you quickly reminded yourself that you probably weren't the only one he called that.
Before long, he was stretched out beside you, shirtless now. He propped his hands behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling. His mind seemed to be wandering, lost in a swirl of thoughts.
He couldn't bear the thought of anyone else having you, touching you, holding you, kissing you...None of it. The idea alone made him want to scream in frustration.
You noticed the look on his face.
"What's wrong?"
You hopped onto his lap, settling with your legs on either side, facing him.
"Nothing..."
"Don't lie to me."
He grinned and his hands found their way to your thighs. Instantly, your skin prickled with goosebumps, a familiar sensation whenever he touched you. Your body responded in ways that defied explanation or words.
He licked his lips, nearly making you squeal with anticipation.
"It's...just that I don't like seeing you with other men. It drives me absolutely in-fucking-sane," he expressed sternly. You could tell by the look of his face, he was serious. In fact, it almost felt like you were in trouble just from the way he looked at you.
Holding back a smirk you said,
"Well, I don't like seeing you with other women, but you're the one who came up with this Friend With Benefits crap,"
"I know, I know.." he sighed, running a hand over his bearded face.
"So, what are we going to do?" you asked. You honestly enjoyed this. He was finally giving in to his feelings.
His hands lazily trailed up and down your silky skin, relishing in the way you responded to his touch, your breath catching in your throat.
"We're going to be together because the thought of you being with someone else is eating me up on the inside,"
You awed him, grasping his hands in your own and placing them above his head. Leaning forward, you captured his lips with yours. The kiss was laced with a passion you've never felt before. You both took your time exploring each other's mouths, tongues fighting for dominance before he finally won.
As Roman's tongue teased a sensitive spot in your mouth, you couldn't help but let out a soft moan, feeling a warmth pooling between your thighs.
Planting kisses along his shoulder, you traced the inked patterns on his skin, marveling at the details they whispered about his culture, his life.
When you found that sweet spot, he groaned, his grip on your hand tightening as you continued to hold them above his head.
"Baby.." he whispered breathlessly as you sucked on his sweet spot. You showed no mercy, nibbling and sucking until he was putty in your hands. Every stroke of your tongue against his inked skin sent shivers coursing through his body.
"Now, we aren't going to be together just because you say so. I really want you to drop those women, all of them. Prove to me that you want me and only me.." you murmured against his neck before sitting up, meeting his gaze head-on.
Roman pressed his lips into a thin line, eyes squinting slightly.
"Okay...I will."
Lightly slapping his chest, you glared.
"I'm serious, Roman. You're playing games and I'm not down with that anymore. I'm through being fuck buddies. Either you give me all of you or nothing at all."
Roman sat up, encircling his arms around your waist, pulling you close. He rested his forehead against yours, his desire burning beyond the physical; he wanted to claim you as his own. You were the only one who stirred these feelings within him, and he couldn't bear the thought of losing you just to play the field.
He was a fool for your pretty eyes and that smile. How'd he expect himself not to fall?
"I'm not lying, baby. I promise, I will drop them all for you."
He brushed his fingertips along the curve of your cheek, his minty breath teasing your lips as he inched closer.
"I don't have to worry about another woman's lips on your body?" you questioned, a hint of uncertainty in your eyes.
He tenderly kissed your lips, catching you off guard for a fleeting moment.
"Nope. I don't want nobody but you kissin' on my tattoos, baby girl.." he whispered, then leaned in to place a kiss on your temple.
---------------
Hope y'all enjoyed this small little one shot!
And please go read my last two one-shots if you haven't already. I enjoyed writing them and want you to enjoy reading them! Love ya'll, Muah!
Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi @msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @mzv11 @wrestlingprincess80 @saintmagx
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geeks-universe · 2 days
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The Fallen pt. 2
Cooper Howard x F!Angel!Reader
A/N: Some light spice, no full on smut yet. This is in fact a Lucifer (TV) crossover. The beginning italics is a flashback.
Cooper Howard had perfected his aim in the many, many years of life spent in the hellish landscape that now inhabited Earth, so when he missed, it was purposeful.
“It ain’t good form, sneakin’ up on a restin’ man.”
His words were crisp, articulated, and honestly the intruder was just lucky he happened to be in a decent mood. It would’ve been easier to kill them.
“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were here.”
The replying voice was a stark contrast to the harshness of the life he lived. It didn’t belong, sounded far too gentle, and it aroused enough curiosity for him to tip his hat back.
Not a damn thing in the whole of the Wasteland could’ve prepared him for the sight he was met with.
Pretty, that was his first thought.
Too pretty.
Ungodly so, actually. Your eyes seemed to shine so bright in contrast to the dingy lantern that barely provided enough light to see his own hands. The slope of your nose, the cut of your cheeks, the shape of your lips- too pretty.
Not to mention the tight jumpsuit you wore, the zipper tugged down low enough on your chest to show off a healthy amount of cleavage. His fingers twitched as his eyes traced a path down your body- slow, appreciative. It’d been a damn long time since something as simple as a look could get him this worked up.
You had one visible weapon, a knife tucked into the belt of your jumpsuit, pressed into your very alluring thigh. He wondered briefly what it would feel like under his hand, wrapped tight around his waist.
“I suggest you get on your way ‘fore the next one ends up in your skull.”
It was a threat, one he emphasized with the click of his gun’s hammer.
You seemed unbothered, almost bored.
Fuck, didn’t that just annoy the piss out of him? You stumbled into his space- that he commandeered with his hard earned bullets, thank you very much- looking like fucking Aphrodite, with an expression that could, at best, be considered unconcerned.
Last he checked he was still pretty goddamn terrifying.
“Understood,” you held your hands up, and damn it all if he could ignore the pain in your gaze.
He hesitated.
It was a fraction of a fraction of a second, where he almost slipped back into Cooper Howard: the man who cared, imperceptible to most, but the small upturn of your lips told him you saw it.
He glared, holding his gun higher. You didn’t say another word, just held your hands up and walked away, but not before you met his gaze one more time.
He wished he knew what you were thinking when you muttered a soft, “thanks,” before you disappeared from the rickety building. The image haunted him for weeks, of you with your sad eyes, your face untouched by the ugliness of the world, breathing out your gratitude.
He swore he’d shoot you on sight if he ever saw you again, if only because that one encounter lingered in his mind for far too long after.
“Think they’re fuckin’?”
You startled, whipping your head up to face Cooper so quickly he was sure that it hurt. The heat that flushed your cheeks was unexpected.
“Sorry, just didn’t think you’d be so blunt.” You cleared your throat, running a hand through your hair. “Maybe, they certainly seemed interested enough in one another to… engage.”
Coop barked a laugh, low and deep.
“Engage, huh?” You narrowed your eyes at him, resting your arms on your knees. “That’s a real innocent term for a bonafide tease like yourself.”
“Tease?” You echoed, almost offended.
The red from your cheeks burned a path down your neck, to the top of your breasts, where it disappeared beneath the fabric of your jumpsuit- a path Cooper was all too eager to trace with his eyes.
He hummed an affirmative, spreading his legs out in front of him. His back was leaned against the pole of an old billboard, giving him a nice resting spot from the traveling you’d been doing.
A few days ago, your little trio ran into the same knight Cooper had gotten into a shootout with back in Filly. He’d wanted to shoot the man and be done with it, but Lucy had argued that he could help.
After much deliberation, and more than a few pleads of your own, Cooper agreed to let him live. For now.
“A tumble in the ol’ hay gettin’ you nice and shy, huh?”
You groaned, forcing your eyes down to the sand beneath your legs. He waited eagerly for your explanation.
“My dad was, uh, strict,” you supplied lamely, embarrassment burning a pyre in your stomach.
You would surely never hear the end of this.
“Darlin’, are you suggesting you’re a-“
“No,” you were quick to respond, beating back against the shame that you felt.
You’d never understand how Lucifer could be so free in his decisions, not bothering to feel any guilt over the many decidedly “un-angel-like” behaviors he had. His time on Earth with you was short, beckoned back to his prison before you could even spend a decade together, but he’d not been idle in that time.
“I’ve… engaged before.”
Cooper’s lips drew into a slow smirk, the brim of his hat hiding the way his eyes were drinking in your expression. He’d memorized the way you look time and time again- when you were happy, or sad, angry, annoyed.
Embarrassed, however, was a new one.
“And now?”
The indignation that flared in your gaze rivaled the red of your cheeks, a thrill running down Coop’s spine as you pulled yourself to your feet and stalked towards him.
“And now,” you whispered, voice barely audible above the crunch of sand beneath your boot.
As you approached, he raised his head, drawn to your stare. The breath he released was strained with anticipation.
“I think you know what I want, Coop.”
It was graceful, the way you dropped yourself to your knees and straddled him. His cock twitched at the look you fixed him with, filled with far more desire than he could ever hope to understand. A fire was burning in the air between you, begging him to close the distance and feel you.
His fingers ghosted up the side of your thighs, hovering just above your ass. He’d hoped for this moment- dreamed of it, even- but never did he expect the universe would be kind enough to deliver you to him, ready and willing.
“And what is that, darlin’?” His tone dropped low, barely a murmur from his lips in fear of ruining the moment. “Don’t be afraid to use your words.”
Your mouth was so close to his, warm breath fanning over his face. He was torn between wanting to pull you into him, and letting you take your sweet time with him. The vaultie and the knight would probably be gone for a bit longer, in search of medicine to help with his shot arm.
“Mmm,” that sweet, lilting voice was so close he could feel it, inching closer to his body.
It was overwhelming, the sensation of your thighs over his, your front grinding so gently down the hardening curve of his cock. It was heaven and hell at the same time, too much and not nearly enough. A groan might’ve tore itself from his throat, it was hard to tell over the sound of his blood rushing south, heart pumping double time to match the throbbing of his cock.
Every bit of his restraint was focused on letting you initiate, his hands flexing in the air, waiting for positive indication that he could have his wicked way with you. He could practically taste the sweet nectar between your legs, drooling at the prospect. If you tasted half as good as you looked, he’d never wish for apple pie again.
You, his tormenting angel, with wide eyes and full lips that he couldn’t seem to stay away from. You, who he once believed was a figment of his own imagination, if only because he couldn’t fathom such a delicacy still existing in this world.
“The hat.”
Your words were released on a breathy sigh, hands tracing up the textured skin of his neck, before you quickly grabbed hold of his beloved hat, delicately placing it on your own head.
The triumph in your expression didn’t last, as Cooper had no intention of this being just another game. Faster than you thought possible, and with far more force than you were used to, Coop had hooked his arms around the back of your thighs, caging you against him so you couldn’t back away as you had planned.
“This is a dangerous game you’re playin’.”
You pressed further into him, tipping his hat back with a smirk. His hips pushed up, aching for contact that you purposefully held from him.
“If I’m taking a ride, might as well play the part.”
His retort was hot on his tongue, only to be immediately swallowed by your mouth. Your lips crashed into his, rough in their ministrations. Years of dreaming about the taste of you didn’t do it any justice.
Your tongue explored his mouth with a ravenous hunger, hips moving in time with each stroke of your lips.
Fuck.
Fuck.
He was sure that all there was left to taste on the Earth was bitter and bland. You, however, were sweeter than he could’ve ever imagined. You tasted of vanilla, somehow, and the first crisp wind after a hot summer, and like the Earth before the war, the good things that had been destroyed and gone forever.
Holy hell, you tasted like life.
Like a deep laugh that came straight from the soul- he moaned when you tightened your grip on the fabric of his shirt, chasing every inch he’d give you- and the man Cooper Howard used to be.
His hands were eager in their exploration, mapping out a path from your thighs, to your ass, up the curve of your spine.
Fucking hell.
Every inch of you was divine, perfect in a way Cooper couldn’t even begin to understand. He wanted more. He needed more. Needed it more than he needed those damn drugs, more than he needed anything, really.
He went straight from the junction of your neck the second you broke from the kiss, mouth watering at the very thought of pressing his teeth to your sweet, soft skin.
“Cooper,” it was a whimper, a plea, and a moan all in one, and damn did his ears ring at the sound.
It went straight to his cock, making him press his hips up into yours, desperately trying to bury his length in you despite the many layers of clothing.
Your head fell back, exposing your neck even more to him, and causing his hat to tumble somewhere by his legs. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered outside of the feel of you.
His hands slid higher, on a path to your shoulders, only to stop at the sudden intake of air from you. It sounded pained, and he was dazed when you pulled away from him with a speed he’d not seen before.
One second you were hot, willing, and moaning his name, and the next you were standing over him, your eyes haunted.
“Darlin’, what-“
He saw it then, the sticky, warm red on his hands, unmistakably blood. A baser instinct wanted to lick his gloves clean of it, taste an even deeper part of you, but the human in him won out, if only for a moment.
“You didn’t think to let anyone know you’re hurtin’.”
The anger in his tone is only trumped by the worry in his eyes. Somehow, you’d wriggled your way into his nearly fucking nonexistent heart, and it seemed that you had the self-preservation of a damn baby sea turtle.
“It’s an old wound.”
The way you held your arms to your chest, almost like you were hugging yourself, told Cooper enough. It was a wound that cut deep, not because it hurt, but because of how it got there in the first place.
“Lemme see,” he said sternly, picking up his hat off the ground with a scowl.
“Today, sweetheart,” he muttered when you made no move to do so.
There was a vulnerability in your gaze, a cut so deep he knew you’d never fully heal from it. He wished he didn’t want to know, wished he didn’t care to learn what made those bright eyes dim.
You unzipped the front of your jumpsuit slowly, tantalizingly, almost like the teasing was a part of your armor- and maybe it was. Maybe it was how you convinced yourself you didn’t care as much, or how you rebelled against the father you obviously still struggled with.
You turned your back to him, baring the marred flesh without another look in his direction. Obviously, Cooper had seen many, many scars in his time. Hell, he was scarred from head to toe, flesh marked with the passage of time and the heat of radiation.
This was a little different.
You tensed as he reached a hand out. Two large gashes ran down the length of your shoulder blades, the flesh pink and raw. Scratches, deep and angry, cut between them, some bleeding and others healed. Curiously, the tips of his gloved fingers pressed to the two big scars.
In a flash you were turned around, your hands wrapped around his wrist.
“Don’t.”
A command. A plea. A whisper.
“Who did it?”
His words were hard, a rage so deep and endless rose in his chest, feeling more feral than he had his whole life. That wasn’t the scar of someone who survived an attempt on their life.
That was the scar of someone who intended to cause pain.
“Was it your daddy?”
From the very small amount of information you’d given him, he tried to piece together exactly what happened between the two of you. He didn’t know the specifics, but he did know that he’d hurt you in some unforgivable way.
Your silence was an answer in itself.
Leather creaked as he balled his hands into fists, grinding his teeth together. Cooper Howard was a monster, self-made and self-proclaimed, but he didn’t let anyone harm what was his.
And make no mistake, you were his. That kiss did just about everything to solidify it in his mind.
“If he weren’t dead already I’d hunt him down and string him up.”
It was a promise, and he wished he could bring that bastard back from the grave to punish him for putting those marks on your back and that look in your eye.
“Coop,” you approached him cautiously, returning your jumpsuit to its proper position. “He’s not dead.”
That certainly was a surprise.
And an opportunity.
“It’s more complicated than that,” you huff, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. The clench on your jaw was noticeable.
“Let’s find the fucker, then.”
A long, tired sigh parted your lips. There were clearly parts of the story he was missing, and it seemed those parts painted a picture he didn’t understand.
“Let’s focus on Lucy and her dad.”
He let the silence simmer, wondering just how much he should tell you of his past. A bit of irritation flared at the idea of revealing anything. It was better to let the past die, like you said.
He grunted his agreement, not bothering to explain it to you. Maybe you’d try to stop him, or maybe you’d help him. It didn’t matter either way. You were already far closer to him than he wanted, he couldn’t risk any more of a bond forming.
“They’ll be back.”
His words were noncommittal. It was likely the vault dweller and her puppy-dog of a knight were probably alive, but he couldn’t really care less, especially when the girl's own naivety got them into this mess.
“Her heart was in the right place.”
You could see it on his face, read the expression etched in his battered skin like nobody else could.
“The right place for dyin’, maybe.” He clicked his tongue. “But I ain’t got that sorta wish right now.”
“They didn’t have to shoot,” you muttered, not nearly as worked up as you’d been earlier.
Anger isn’t an expression you wear often, so he was a little surprised when you’d been so upset with the fiends. Lucy had the bright idea of making it around them without violence, a plan that was doomed from the start.
Cooper voiced his opinion, and so did Maximus, but your encouraging little smile to Lucy made him follow with a scowl. The second they’d drawn their weapons, Coop had already shoved you behind him and dropped one of them. The knight wasn’t nearly as quick with the draw, and got a tooth bullet lodged in his arm for the effort.
He and Lucy had departed about a day ago, claiming they’d be back soon with a fully patched up knight. If it were just him, he would’ve tied them both up and dragged their asses to the head.
Better yet, just killed them both.
But you wouldn’t let him.
You’d always erred on the side of good, a little too soft for the world around you. He’d seen you mean, seen you stand your ground, but you helped far more than you’d hurt. The vault dweller seemed to only be intensifying it, making you believe in a pipe dream that was sure to get you a one way ticket to eternity.
“I’m going to check-“
“(Y/N)!”
Lucy’s voice cracked through the Wasteland like shattering glass. Whereas his annoyance at the sudden arrival of his unwanted companions reflected on his face, you managed a small smile.
“I was beginning to think you’d left us.”
It was a joke. Whatever bond had formed between you and Lucy had clearly earned you some amount of loyalty, and even if she would’ve ditched Cooper any chance she got, she definitely wouldn’t have left you. And if she refused to, it was no surprise Maximus also did.
“I take it you’re feeling better?” Your gaze fell where the bullet had struck, and there was a curious look in your eyes. You’d mentioned before that you used to be good with fixing people up, so he had a feeling you were reminiscing on another tidbit of life he wasn’t privy to.
“Ain’t no reason to gawk here like a bunch of sittin’ ducks,” Coop stalked passed the three of you, not interested in the camaraderie.
“Right,” Lucy cleared her throat, “Glad to see nothing’s changed.”
“Just ‘cause you took lover boy here for a little ride on company property ain’t mean the rest of the world changed.”
Your sudden intake of breath definitely didn’t go unnoticed. It seemed that despite the previous interruption, you were enjoying rubbing yourself up on Coop as much as he was.
“Sex,” Lucy clarified to Maximus at the man’s confused expression.
“Watch out,” Cooper warned the other man with a sarcastic smile on his lips. “Them Vauties are just breeding factories, might end up with a little unexpected squire.”
“Cooper,” you chided, catching up to walk beside him.
Sometimes, being bitter about children in general helped him cope with the loss of his own.
“It is our privilege to one day repopulate the Earth,” Lucy confirmed, shrugging. “Women just have the responsibility of choosing the right partner.”
“I’m not sure-“ Maximus tried to speak, only to be interrupted by Cooper.
“Unsurprising.”
“(Y/N)?”
It was a low blow, Lucy asking for your opinion, knowing that even if he didn’t say it in so many words, it was obvious the ghoul valued it far more than any others. You raised a brow, shrugging.
“I haven’t really thought of it.”
“Of having kids?” Lucy pushed.
This was quickly entering uncomfortable territory, and Lucy didn’t really know where the boundary was.
“Of any sort of future, honestly.”
She took your answer in stride, though. Allowing the topic to drop off into silence. It didn’t stay that way for very long, idle chatter amongst you, Maximus, and Lucy. Cooper would very rarely comment, but he preferred to stay focused on his surroundings.
Day bled to night, which bled to day again. Time was beginning to slip past as you neared the location of the head, frustration growing in Cooper. Any opportunity he had to speak with you in private was interrupted, the traveling party growing too large for his liking.
Perhaps, after this whole ordeal, it’ll be just you and him.
Perhaps he liked the sound of that a little too much.
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mystellenia · 8 hours
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ellie with a clumsy gf ୨ৎ
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summary: how ellie cares for her clumsy girlfriend
content: nothing thats nsfw!! just ellie being a cutie concerned gf
notes: answer to this req!! SHES SO PUPU BABYGIRL IN THAT PIC I WANNA BITE HER JFWIBFJWKRJR. she's actually so beautiful i can't. entirely unrelated: idk how i feel about this... but i’m trying to be like EW I HATE THIS FUCK THIS ITS SO BAD. like i dont even feel like that but we already know how i feel about this formatting. its growing on me tho
(wc 0.39k) so short i know guys i gotta dip my feet
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constantly laughing but also concerned at how you manage to trip and bump and bruise yourself up on literal air
in apocalypse au, she's always been very aware of her surroundings bc of patrol and combat and stuff so she tries to keep you out of the way of things that she knows you'll bump into
always has an ice pack chilled and ready to go in the freezer in case you bump yourself real hard and it's sore because ice helps bumps not bruise right when you get them (looking at you guys clumsy ladies write that one down)
always warns you about things right as they're happening since you get into things SO FAST
like just as you're bumping into something or dropping an item she's blurting out, "wait! there's- a shirt on the floor"/"remember- that the washing machine door is open"/"baby, you're gonna drop that- just... like you did just now. you okay?"
always asks what you did to get a new bruise. she'll notice a new one and joke, "oh, what did you do this time?" and you'll respond, "i may have walked into the dishwasher while the door was down..." it's become like a little game
she's become sooo desensitized to any bump or bang sound in the house bc she knows its just you. not to say she doesn't care about you getting hurt--she immediately throws out a "you good?!" or "you need me?"--she just knows you know what to do: ice pack or heat compress. it's routine now.
read that low vitamin c levels make you bruise easily, so always has vitamin c rich snacks stocked up. oranges and strawberries and other fruits, always ready!
she's so stupid in love that she'll cut the fruits up into hearts or try nd make the most simple little animals with them from some mother of 3's tutorial on instagram reels and genuinely gets upset when she can't recreate them.
^ like you notice her absolutely maiming some apples and ask, "ummm why are you slicing and dicing that poor apple?" and she'll mumble, "it's supposed to be a stupid crab."
always asks what you did to get a new bruise she'll notice a new one and joke, "oh, god, what did you do this time?" and you'll respond, "i may have walked into the dishwasher while the door was down... but this one doesn't hurt that bad 😁"
and for my ladies with darker skin where bruises aren't as visible or even just pale skin that just doesn't bruise easily, she's still just as concerned. and since there is no visible warning of a sore spot, she's hurriedly apologizing after pressing on a sore spot or laying on a tender patch.
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@abbysbug @picklesarenice69
hello to my clitter critters. soooooooo erm sorry about going like basically inactive for like 2 weeks i got into the fight of a lifetime with my mother 😊 we still beefing 😊 dw tho when she's old and wrinkly i’ll have power of attorney and trust the cord WILL be plugged.
like i’m joking but as of now that bitch is an opp fr
but anywhoooo i’m back. and my dinosaur of a laptop had a health scare and i thought i was gonna have to plan a funeral for her but she went to the doctor (apple store) and she's all better. idk how it still works so well now bc my mom got this when obama was still president 😆 don't y'all worry tho this motherboard does nothing but purr we chillin (the fan turns on whenever there are too many graphics moving)
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jflemings · 2 days
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— let the light in
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pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 2
synopsis: for jessie’s benefit, you end your relationship
warnings: depression, bed rotting, suicidal ideation, self depreciation, isolation, toxic!reader if you squint
a/n: take the warnings seriously and look after yourselves pls <3
as much as you knew you needed jessie, there was no way you were going to allow yourself to hold onto her so tightly. it was a repeated and ongoing cycle that you had been trapped in for years now and it seemed to only be getting worse.
“we can’t be together anymore” you murmur into your half empty cup “i can’t do it”
jessie sits across from you with her mouth agape. “if i’ve done something wrong i can fix it” she says, her voice cracking slightly as she pleads “this can be fixed, let. me. fix. it.”
a heaviness settles behind your eyes as you shake your head “there’s nothing to fix. i’m sorry”
it was as easy as walking out the door and leaving her sitting in her kitchen alone. the bag of your things had weighed your shoulder down as you dragged your feet all the way to your car, not once ever looking back in fear of turning around.
it left you here, laying in bed with the curtains drawn and your phone on do not disturb as you stare blankly at the wall. you had become a shell of the person you think you once were, someone who had hobbies and dreams, someone who wanted to build a life worth living. instead you take sick leave so that you don’t have to get out of bed, you let the dishes pile up in the sink when you do decide to eat and you clear a pathway out of your shit on the floor so you can get to your ensuite bathroom.
the numbness that had overtaken you didn’t allow you to cry, no matter how much you think you wanted too. you were drained. there was nothing left for you to give yourself. it was sick, really, the way your brain could play tricks on you and make you believe you weren’t deserving of the life that you have been given. why would you be? there was absolutely nothing to show for it. all you had was a bed with dirty sheets and a brain that told you death was better than anything else you have ever experienced.
your therapist had told you once that because you hadn’t acted on it, it was merely a way for you to cope without committing. a way to wallow, to escape, from a life that you weren’t ever sure you wanted in the first place. she said that people who have depression but don’t kill themselves will fantasise about it but not pick a date or a means to an end.
only, at one point, you had picked a date. you had closed your eyes and twirled your finger in the air before landing on a wednesday two weeks away. you’d marked it with a red dot and then began clearing out things you didn’t want, giving your belongings to charity or throwing them away before neatly organising what you had left. you thought that your family could decide what to do with them. you didn’t care, you were gonna be dead after all.
it was when your coffee machine had finally broken on you that morning did jessie come swinging into your life. you decided to go to a local coffee shop you liked when she pushed the door open too hard and smacked you square in the face. she had gone bright red and apologised profusely, telling you that the door had slipped out of her grip and that she didn’t even see you. you, with a hand pressed firmly to your forehead, had told her that it was okay, that it was just an accident.
maybe it was her smile, or the way her eyes looked when you actually made eye contact, but something about the canadian had stopped you dead in your tracks. she asked if you wanted to sit with her with the promise of not hitting you in the face again, to which you agreed with a laugh. you began telling eachother about yourselves, from where and how you grew up to hobbies and small quirks you had. when the topic of careers had come around you sheepishly told her that you didn’t watch football beyond the odd match when it was already on tv, and she had beamed at you and cheekily said that she’ll make a blue out of you in no time.
you didn’t go through with it, obviously, and jessie still doesn’t know that she quite literally saved your life that day. your relationship with jessie quickly blossomed and bloomed, soon becoming the most grounding thing in your life. jessie showed you that she loved you long before she told you and never once did she make you feel like you weren’t loved, there were just times where you knew you were hard to love.
like in the beginning when you’d practically ghosted her for three days and then came back with a half assed explanation and a bouquet of flowers; or when you’d completely shut her out and pretend like nothing was wrong when she could see the bags under your eyes and the mess around your apartment. you knew that her friends had told her that it wasn’t a good relationship to be in, that maybe you weren’t who she thought you were. she had brushed them off and ran back to you time and time again.
looking back on it you think that maybe it’s because she knew how bad it was getting, like she caught onto your badly kept secret before you even knew you really had one. when you had initially told her about your depression you insisted that you were doing a lot better and that even though you would have times of relapse, it was nothing compared to how it had been in the past.
the lie had kept up until there were things you were too ashamed to explain to her. like why she couldn’t come over or why you looked like you hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in a few weeks. you didn’t know how to tell the footballer that your mental health had sipped out of your control, that you needed help and didn’t know how to ask for it. you didn’t know how to look your own girlfriend in the eye and tell her that you needed her.
that was when you knew it had to end.
when jessie came around to collect her things you just left them in a box outside your front door. you heard her knock but didn’t move from your position as she left with the last pieces of her you had.
she wasn’t stupid, despite the fact that for most of your relationship you clearly thought she was. she noticed the change in your behaviour and how you didn’t go out with friends as much or eat enough. she noticed the late night and even later mornings, the pile of dirty laundry you’d been putting off and the pills you tried to hide.
jessie wasn’t stupid.
when she pleaded to you to fix it, she meant fix you. she wanted you to take the weight off your shoulders and put it on hers because hers are stronger than yours anyway, they can hold more. she wanted you to let her help with the laundry, and to help clean your place. she wanted you to let her wash your hair and make you a good home cooked meal. jessie wanted nothing more than for you to be vulnerable with her, to admit that you needed her just this once.
as much as you adored her, absolutely worshiped the ground she walked on, you weren’t going to do that for her. jessie has a decorated career, one to be proud of, and the last thing she needed was to worry about whether or not you were going to get out of bed in the morning. she didn’t need the extra weight from your baggage dragging her down.
she deserved better, someone who could get up early enough to go for coffee after her morning run, someone who could actually make dinner with her and eat it, someone who didn’t have to create a fucking pathway from their bed to their bathroom because they haven’t cleaned their room in god knows how long. jessie deserved someone worth loving and in your mind, that someone just wasn’t you.
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torturedtraveler · 3 days
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dear xx univeristy application office,
Listen, I know I've been rejected and this personal statement is not going to mean anything. But I feel like writing it, as a reflection of the past few months.
With what happened in middle school, I got diagnosed with depression and anxiety and transferred schools. I started dating a friend but broke up shortly after. One day he jumped from our school building and passed away (he had bipolar), it felt like a slap across my face and from then on, I gave up on myself.
I stopped showing up to class consistently and socializing. Until one day in Form 6, I realized, I didn't understand any of the things my teachers were saying in class and I would have my IB exams in less than a year. I couldn't catch up, I couldn't do it. Again, I was impulsive and have always been so I decided to just quit IB and start A-Levels. Fast forward a few months, I found out that I still couldn't do it, because of my mental health, I couldn't pull through, and in the midst of it, my grandpa passed away. These all piled up on me again and I had to quit, again. I took one A-Level and IELTS and decided to apply for associate degree programs. I chose translation originally because I am fluent in both English and Chinese and I have always wanted to do something related to languages. However, something shifted in me one day, I applied to the same colleges but instead, in Psychology.
I went through what I would call "hell" in those 5-6 years in secondary, I struggled every day with mental health, with depression, with anxiety, and I wanted to do something in the future that could help kids like me. In fact, XX College gave me a conditional offer but unfortunately, my academic qualifications did not meet their requirements (probably because I didn't graduate from a secondary school) just like how I didn't meet your requirements and am not what you wanted. Fortunately, my current College accepted me for my qualifications and there I started my tertiary education.
The school year started off great and strong. I was attending classes every day, socializing with my classmates, handing in assignments, all these things I NEVER managed to do consistently in high school.
My family and friends were shocked about the transformation. I was actually working hard in school.
Hey, I know a 3.26 GPA might have not been the best and you were probably expecting something higher, but that wasn't what mattered, what mattered was, I changed. I started taking my academics seriously, even through hard days, when I felt tired and depressed (occasionally), I showed up to class and did my work, and I made friends, which again, was shocking considering I developed social anxiety after I was bullied in high school for my ex-boyfriends' suicide.
However, my anxiety got worse near the end of the first semester and I had to postpone my final requirements, nonetheless, I finished them at the start of semester B.
I don't know what went wrong from there, but it was obvious that my mental health was getting bad again because I wasn't showing up to class and I wasn't paying attention in class. Though I was still handing in assignments and working hard on them, I wasn't showing up to class consistently. I only acknowledged the decline of my mental health at the start of March, when I started isolating myself again and stopped talking to my mom, who has always been my best friend. Fast forward to my second mid-term test, I thought I would feel less pressured after finishing it, but nope, it only went downhill from there. I didn't show up to class for 2 consecutive weeks. My mom was asking me if I was okay, and my friends were asking me why I wasn't showing up to class. I repeatedly reassured them I was fine, I just needed some time off for myself, but in reality, I was only trying to reassure myself that I was fine because I refused to admit that I was having a relapse. I didn't want to accept it, I was doing so fine for so long, I was getting so much better, and everyone was praising me for it, what could go wrong? Well, reality sucks, and sometimes, depression creeps its way back into your life with no apparent reason.
April was when things got really bad, depression was presenting itself in physical ways. I caught a cold, and it got better after 3 days, but then I had abdominal pain, which escalated to stomachache. It was one of the worst physical pain I have ever felt in my life, I had a low fever and I could not stand up, my mom wanted to call the ambulance and get me to the hospital but I refused because I knew I had to wait to see the doctor and my pain would just worsen. I saw a doctor the next day and he informed me that it was gastroenteritis. I had to stay home for a few days because I was still in some level of pain. I was forced to put down my academics for a while. Aphthous ulcer found its way to my mouth later (and I actually still do have it at the current moment), and now I can't even have a proper meal without being in pain.
The physical symptoms weren't the worst part. Do you know that feeling of working on an assignment one day in an empty room in the school library on a Saturday afternoon, listening to jazz and making good progress, and all of a sudden you stared at a blank wall and started bawling your eyes out? That's what happened to me. I experienced that consecutively for a week. Just completely random moments in life, you were feeling fine the last second, and the next, you were crying for your dear life.
I was in the shower once and suicidal thoughts consumed my mind, I was bombarded with all the ways I could end my life, jumping off a building, hanging myself, cutting myself, etc. I felt despairful, worthless, exhausted, all the worst emotions you could possibly think of, and was just ready. Ready for me to leave because I had no worth, I wasn't showing up to class and it was reflected in my grades. I mustered up the strength to call in my mom because for a split second there I still wanted to hold on, I didn't want to give up just quite yet.
All these were happening, because I had so much pressure on my shoulders, that I imposed on myself, to get a high GPA, to get into a prestigious university in my city, to get into XX Univeristy. I didn't want to spend 2 years in community college and wanted to ascend to university as fast as I could.
I received your university's rejection yesterday, and let me tell you, yesterday was an awful day. To start with, rains flooded the streets near my school campus, even under an umbrella I was drenched, from head to bottom. I arrived on campus completely soaked, with water in my shoes. At that point, I was already depressed (bad weather could seriously affect your mood), nonetheless, I told myself "It was a bad experience, but that will not dictate your day, you still have a full day ahead of you", so I mustered a smile on my face and went straight to class. I was chatting with friends as it was the last class and we were all just doing revisions. I went to the library shortly after.
I wasn't as productive as I wanted to be because 1) I wasn't motivated and 2) Depression can really interfere with your daily life functioning, for example, doing work. I didn't get as much done as I wanted to so I decided, maybe it was time to go home.
I took the train, I bought myself dinner, I grabbed the mail, I went home. I sat down, with my dinner in front of me, and opened up the application portal on my laptop.
The word "unsuccessful" was under my application status and into my eyes.
I kid you not, I felt like my life had ended right there. Everything that I had worked so hard for, all the pressure I had imposed on myself to get a high GPA, to get into a prestigious university, and the high hopes that I had, all faded in one single moment.
I called my mom screaming and crying, shouting into the phone about how miserable I was, I was in so much pain. I couldn't think straight and my mom reassured me that she was on her way home. She arrived, grabbed a chair, and sat next to me.
Essentially our conversation went on for about 45 minutes, and I remember distinctly, one of the things she said was, "So? That's it?". It was a wake-up call for me.
All this time, the amount of pressure I've put on myself, the sleepless nights I've had to experience, the physical symptoms, the mental symptoms, etc. All because of one number that I ignorantly thought would dictate my future. I lost sight of what I originally did this for. In working towards getting into university to get a degree where I could help people, I ironically forgot to help myself. I lost sight of what was important in the current moment, my priority is not yet to help others struggling with mental health, it's me, I'm struggling with my mental health, I am my priority. I neglected my mental health and what I truly needed, it wasn't grades, it was self-love. Caring for myself, listening to my needs, attending to myself, and acknowledging that I was struggling.
It's okay to relapse. It's okay to know that you need help. It's okay that you're depressed again even if you thought you didn't have depression anymore. It's okay that it's near finals season but you're mentally struggling, maybe you need to postpone again, and that's okay. Do you know why? Because we're humans, and it's okay to not be okay.
All these years of struggling, I haven't done much with my life and I desperately wanted to prove to myself and everyone else, that for once, I could do something, I am capable of something. I wanted to get into a university, a prestigious one, the top in my city, to redeem myself. Because my sister got into a good university, and my friends from high school got into good universities. I NEED to prove to people that I am not dumber than them, just because I wasted a few years in secondary school doesn't mean I am less smart than them. I can still get into university.
I am just as good. Not because of good grades or whether I am in a good university or not though. I am a good person because I have a good heart, I care for everyone around me deeply and I'm always there for them even if I'm struggling. I am a good person because I have a passion, I want to work hard to achieve my passion and help people professionally. I am a good person because I have hobbies, I have things I enjoy doing and I do my best to advance my skills, and to work hard to achieve small goals in life.
I am a good person because I haven't given up on myself yet. 6 years of depression and anxiety, and countless times standing on a ledge, wanting to jump but convincing myself not to.
Because my ultimate goal in life is to be happy, I know there will be bad days and bad experiences, some days might feel like the end of the world (just like yesterday), but some would feel like I'm floating on cloud 9. That doesn't equal a bad life. And I'm learning to accept that.
I want to be surrounded by people I love, loving them back in the same way so they know they're not alone because they were there for me when I was at my lowest. I am the happiest when I'm loving, I'm giving, and when I'm learning. Psychology is something I'm passionate about, not the GPA system. What I should do in the current moment is to learn, enjoy the process, and work hard to show my teachers, and myself, that I have done my best with what I've learned.
Thank you for your rejection. Your wake-up call. If it weren't for this, I wouldn't have realized what I was doing wrong this whole time and I probably would've stayed in that same position for a while. I'm taking it day by day now, and I'm getting better, and that's what truly matters.
My deepest gratitude for reviewing my application and considering it. Also for reading this if you have.
Thank you, I truly, deeply, appreciate it.
Warmest regards
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heavyhitterheaux · 13 hours
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Church Girl, Don't Hurt Nobody Part 2 (Slight NSFW)
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Synopsis: The time has now come for you to confront your mother about your relationship with Jack. Your mind is already made up, and the last thing that you would ever do is ruin your happiness. It doesn't go as planned, and you are left with a lot to think about.
Pairing: Jack Harlow x Reader
Read Part 1 first
Requested by: so many of you lol so I had to run it back
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
You currently had both of your legs on your boyfriend's shoulders as his face was between your thighs with the sunlight peeking through the floor length windows.
This had been going on for close to a week since you were hiding out from your parents for as long as you could. You knew that you were going to have to face them sooner or later, but later was beginning to sound better and better. 
After Jack had found out from his friends the truth about you as well as your family, he was obviously upset, but could understand from your point of view why you did it once you had explained everything to him and had a few days to think about. He was lowkey still upset about it, but didn’t want to let you see it since now everything was out in the open and he knew your mind was on overdrive. He had lost track of how many times you had cried about it.
You were scared shitless of what was about to happen when you went home and was putting it off for as long as you could. Of course that night even though Jack was clearly upset with you, he wanted for you to stay with him. In the back of his mind, even though he initially said that he was probably going to break up with you because you lied to him, he quickly changed his mind after hearing your explanation and the bottom line was he didn't want to be without you.
Your phone had been going off nonstop since the picture was posted and you hadn’t answered anyone. You were actually surprised that not once did your mother call you and you knew that she was pissed. But at this point, should you even care what she thought about you? Your fate was sealed anyway.
After the picture was posted the two of you were sitting across from each other in silence. You knew he was mad at you and you were trying to create a plan in your head for the both of you to get through this with no harm done, but you were coming up short.
You were always so careful when going out at night and the one time you weren't, someone snapped a photo of you. 
Wanting to give your boyfriend some space (if he was still your boyfriend at that point for that matter since you didn't know) you didn’t even say anything and had gotten up to start making your way to the door but as you went to open it, you saw Jack's hand come from behind you to close it.
"Where are you going?" Jack asked from behind you and when you didn't answer him, he turned you around to face him with tears in your eyes and a trembling lip and knew they were about to fall down. 
"I… just… you're my escape and my peace from everything that goes on around me and it's just why can I never do anything for myself? Why can't I do what I want? I am 27 years old, still sneaking out of my parents house to see my boyfriend. And I'm sorry for dragging you into this. I should have been honest from the beginning and I'm sorry for that.”
"Dragging me into what? I don't regret asking you to be my girlfriend so don't you think that for a second."
He wanted to be with you for the long haul and this was just something that the two of you had to face together. He was going to do his best to protect you to the best of his ability from the world and also your parents.
“Talk to me in a week and we'll see if you feel the same way.”
“The way I feel about you isn't going to go away in a week so I know that my answer is going to be the same.”
“I don't even know where to begin to fix this.”
“Let me ask you this. What exactly needs to be fixed? We're together like we want to be aren’t we? So what's the problem? You know that they already don't approve so fuck it.”
"Damn, baby it's like Niagara Falls down here." Jack said as he looked down at his fingers.
"You want a side of eggs with that?"
"HUH?"
"Pussy juice, side of eggs, that's my breakfast." You said while repeating Jack's lyrics to him and giggling. 
All Jack did was smirk and laugh at you.
"Nah, I don't need the eggs. This is enough to get me full." Jack said as he grabbed your legs to pull you towards the end of the bed and you let out a yelp.
Jack then leaned down to kiss you and you immediately wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer to give him several more. When he finally pulled away, he began to place kisses all over your face making you laugh.
Next thing you knew, you felt him slide into you and you immediately gasped since you had been caught off guard.
He was going at a slow, even pace taking his time to give you as much pleasure as possible to take your mind off of everything going on around you.
You then wrapped your left leg around him wanting for him to get as deep as he possibly could. 
You were now laying on Jack's chest as his arm was wrapped around you in a comfortable silence and Jack was the one to break it. 
"Baby, as much as I want to, we can't hide out in my condo forever. I have to promote this album and I've already done what I could to push it back for a week to make sure you were okay.”
"I know and I appreciate you for doing that for me because you definitely didn't have to. I'm not okay in the slightest, but I know that I just have to deal.”
"I would do anything for you. You know that. And I'm going to make sure you get to the point where you are okay." Jack replied as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.
"I just… don't want to face them. My mother more than anyone else."
"I don't like how she has it where you're actually scared of her." 
“I… it's not the fact that I'm scared of her. I just know that no matter how perfect I try to be, that it will never please her and that I'm always going to fall short. All of my siblings don't care for me either except my big sister Eden. Because I'm the only one that will somewhat challenge my parents. It's always been this way.”
“Just know that I only want the best for you and want you to be happy. You deserve that and not be stressed out all the time over what someone else might think about you.”
“I know.” You quietly answered, but your mind was still running a mile a minute.
“You think that you'll be okay when I leave later tonight? I'd rather you come with me. I just don't want to leave you here with them.”
“I don't really have a choice. I have to face them sooner or later. Even if I don't want to.”
“Look if anything happens, anything at all. Say the word and I'll come and get you.” Jack said as he moved a curl out of your face and lightly kissed your nose.
“You're going to be busy and the last thing I want to be is a distraction.”
“Baby, I can promise that you won't be. I would rather have you with me instead of people who upset you on a daily basis. Because how is that a good thing? You don't need to be in that type of environment.” Jack replied as he started playing with the bracelet that graced your wrist that he gifted you.
“She's probably never going to let me sing again.” You quietly said as you felt tears prick the corners of your eyes.
“Why do you need her permission to do it? Just because she might not want you to sing there, doesn't mean you have to stop altogether. Still not over how amazing your voice is and how well you hid that from me.”
“Trust me, it wasn't easy.” You said while laughing.
“No more secrets. Promise?”
“Promise.”
After you had helped Jack pack all of his things and the two of you decided to have a quick dinner together, it was time for you to make your way back home as much as you didn't want to while Jack was set to go to New York.
He had given you several kisses, but you were still holding onto him for dear life not wanting to let him go just yet. 
“You know you can come with me. The offer still stands. Because now you are definitely stalling.” He said while looking down at you. Jack knew your mind was made up, but he didn't want you going back there at all. If your mom is as bad as you had told him, he wanted to keep you far away from her. 
“As much as I want to, I have to do this. I don't want to drag it out longer.”
“Tell me when you get there and what happens when you two talk. I just have a strong feeling that you are about to call me in tears and that is the last thing that I want. If I have to protect you from your own family, then so be it.”
“It might go better than we think.” You said trying to reassure him.
“Babe, are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
“Hmm, maybe both? But I promise to call if something happens.”
Wearing one of Jack's hoodies and a pair of your black leggings, it was around 10 at night once you had slipped through the entrance to your part of the house. 
Once in your bedroom, you turned on the light to see your big sister Eden once again staring at you.
“For future reference, if you are trying to hide out with your boyfriend, turn off your location. Even though you only share it with me.”
“You have got to stop sneaking up on me, Eden!”
“Not a chance. I let you have your fun but now I'm about to yell but this is only out of love and concern.”
You simply nodded as you took a seat next to her on your bed.
“Now you know you can tell me anything and I will never hold it against you. Being in this family is hard enough and you are my baby sister. If you would have come to me, I would have helped you to tell them.”
“I… so many times I wanted to. But I was just scared. He's really important to me and I didn't want anyone or anything to ruin it. Not that I think you would, but everyone else. What did they say when they found out?”
“That was the first time I actually heard your mother cuss if that explains anything. And she was on Google looking him up for about two hours.”  Eden replied and you couldn't help but to laugh.
“And dad?”
“He simply shrugged and said if she's happy, then I'm fine with it.”
“I figured that he would be the one to say that.”
“And she was also upset that you have been M.I.A. obviously.”
“Why does she need to know my every move? She needs to get over herself.”
“You let me know when that happens. Anyway, tell me EVERYTHING. He's really cute and I'm definitely not surprised you two are together. A good match if I do say so myself.”
“Well we met at Taylor's birthday party a while ago and we've been talking ever since. It was only recently that he asked me to be his girlfriend. I've already met his parents and his brother and I absolutely adore them. His friends I only met at the album release party, but so far so good. He's funny, sweet, caring, always putting my feelings into consideration and I just love being around him. I know that you and dad would like him. I really don't care about anyone else.”
“And you shouldn't. He makes you happy and that's the important part and all that matters. As long as he is treating you right, we won't have a problem. Now did you even tell him about…?”
“No, he didn't know and I believe his friends told him and explained it to him which he was mad about and I can understand that. I wasn't honest and I should have been. He forgave me and we're just moving forward. I told him everything including how I know she hates me.”
“I can only imagine the look on his face. And I don't think she hates you. She hates that she can't control you.”
“Yeah, and then the picture didn't help.”
“Did anyone else know about you two? Perhaps, Tania?” Eden asked while eyeing you.
“Yes and she was sworn to secrecy. Just her and no one else.”
“Soooo, when can I meet him?”
“Well he's going to be busy promoting his album, but I'm sure if I bring it up he'll make time for it. I talk to him about you all the time.”
“I don't think I've ever seen you this happy and I hope the two of you stay together for the long haul.”
As Jack was sitting on the plane and playing with his phone, Urban came and sat next to him and simply eyed him.
“Uh, Urb? Can I help you?” Jack asked as he laughed. 
“Are you and Y/N okay? Did she talk to her parents yet?”
“We're fine but not yet. She said she would tell me when it happened. I already told her that I feel like she's going to call me in tears. I wanted her to come with me but she said that she just wanted to get it over with.”
“I hope she'll be okay. It seems like she's never been able to do what she wants.”
“She hasn't. But Neelam told us both not to say anything about it for now hoping that it would eventually blow over. The last thing I wanted to do was leave her in Louisville, but her mind was made up.”
“If her mother is as bad as she claims her to be, I know that this conversation that they are supposed to have is not going to go over well.”
“I'm literally just waiting for her to call me.”
“I wonder what they'll even say to her, I mean she's a whole adult.”
“And from the way that she talks about her, that clearly doesn't matter. She still looks at her like she's a little kid and it doesn't help that she's the youngest either.” Jack replied while shaking his head.
“I know she means a lot to you from the way that you talk about her.”
“She does, I'm just trying to let her see that it's okay to do what makes you happy and to not care what anyone else thinks about it.”
You and Eden hid out in your room until the next morning when you figured that it was time to face her. After taking a shower, you slipped on a yellow sundress along with white wedge sandals and straightened your hair. It was time for breakfast, so you started making your way towards the dining room. 
Once you entered the room, all eyes were on you as you took your respective seat in between Eden and Grace. Eden sent you a soft smile while Grace rolled her eyes at you. Matthew and Malachi simply exchanged glances with each other along with their spouses as your mother was burning a hole into you with her gaze. Your dad was simply reading his morning paper as he always did and sent you a small smile. You knew when it came down to it, the only people that you could truly count on in your family was your dad and Eden.
As the breakfast spread was placed on the table, your mother was the first to speak.
“Y/N, you have some nerve showing back up here like you didn't do anything.”
“I haven't done anything wrong and the last time I checked, I lived here.” You responded while piling your plate high with eggs, hash browns, and fruit.
“You call a night on the town with a well known rapper nothing? Where people saw the two of you together?”
“Adalaide….” Your father said to your mother in a warning tone, but she simply brushed him off.
“When you leave this house, you are representing this family, and so far this week, you have been nothing but an embarrassment.”
“That's your opinion and you're entitled to it. I am a grown woman who can do anything she wants and I don't need your approval. I have been under your thumb since the day I was born and have been in control of how I dress, who I talk to, my hair, my makeup, and my career path. It's time that I take control of my life without having you criticizing me.”
"No daughter of mine is going to serve the Lord and then be spreading her legs wide open for her rapper boyfriend. And don't even lie and say that you haven't. You look like the type to give it up to any man who ever glanced your way. And of course you think he loves you because he's told you exactly what you want to hear!" 
“MOM!” Eden exclaimed while looking at her in disbelief but all she did was take a sip of her tea.
"You don't even know him!"
"I know enough and I don't care to have you in my sight any longer. It's clear that you have chosen him over your family. So do me a favor and get out. Leave your house key on the table in the foyer. If he loves you so much as you claim he does, go live with him. And I for damn sure better not see you at my church singing for the Lord on Sunday."
“Adalaide, that's enough! If that's who she loves, who are we to stop it? We want all of our children happy and he obviously makes her happy." Your dad said while shaking his head at her.
“Then she can go and be happy with him and not be under my roof taking up space.”
“Now that's taking it a little too far.” You heard Grace say which you were surprised by.
“She's literally not hurting anyone and always did what you wanted her to do. Why are you ruining the one thing she's done for herself?” Your oldest brother Malachi asked and she rolled her eyes.
“What I said still stands. I want her out and if all of you have a problem with it, you can go and follow her. You better be out of my house by midnight and don't bother showing your face here or at church ever again. As far as I'm concerned, I only have two daughters now.”
A collective gasp was heard at the table, and all you could do was laugh to yourself before saying anything.
“Y/N, don't you get up from this table. You are a part of this family as much as anyone else.”
“It's okay, dad. Trust me, it is. I know how she feels about me.”
“This is entirely uncalled for.” Matthew said while looking at your mother who waa unfazed. You simply turned towards her before speaking.
“Keep in mind what you just told me and don't you dare crawl back to me later and try to apologize. If you want me out, fine. The next time I see you will be at your fucking funeral and not a moment sooner. I'll prove to you that I never needed someone like you in my life to begin with.”
“Y/N!” Grace called after you as you pushed yourself away from the table and made your way into the direction of your room.
You held your head high and was determined not to let the tears fall. You finally stood up to her and didn't regret saying what was on your mind.
Grabbing your phone, you facetimed Jack who immediately answered and could tell that something was wrong from the look on your face.
“Baby….”
“She literally just disowned me.”
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damagedintellect · 2 days
Text
ADA Dazai x Reader
💌Obligatory sex pollen fic I guess?? chapter 2💌
Summary: Certain abilities Dazai can dispel outright without touching the user. This has always confused the brunette greatly where the technical line was drawn. During Q's apocalypse, he couldn't bring individuals back to their senses but with Shiwabusa's fog he could prevent Chuuya’s ability from manifesting. Apparently this “Sex pollen” ability was more like the former example. Which left Dazai the only one conscious of their actions as everyone fucked like rabbits.
Notes: Based on a dream I had a few nights ago....This chapter is shorter because I started waking up once I realized it was THAT DREAM, I'm literally crying it got a second chapter some one help😭
Contains: sex pollen, dubcon, pregnancy, mpreg, pregnant Fyodor, Fyodor being painfully religious, 🍋 in chapter 1
💌 Wordcount 1,971 💌 Chapter 2 of ?? [If I have another dream I am obligated to update this] <= Previous chapter
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Just like that for a few weeks everything was back to some semblance of normalcy. Out of sight out of mind you guess. Once you stopped feeling sick all the time you could hardly tell you were pregnant at all. You were still confined to the office since it would take anywhere from 3 to 6 months to fully heal from your injuries but that was fine with you. Honestly you don’t understand how Dazai does it. You've been pampered by Yosano's ability. It didn't even occur to you that you'd still have to have some sort of physical therapy afterwards either. Meanwhile Dazai gets shot and stabbed all the goddamn time and he takes it like a champ. Just one more reason to like him you guess.
Dazai looked up to catch you staring. You didn’t look away but your face did start to feel warm. You hadn’t really sat down and talked about it in depth yet. That night or about the child and honestly no one in the office has really tried to bring it up either. Although you still don't know what to say, sooner or later someone has to say something and hopefully it won't have to be you. Unfortunately you have a feeling it's going to be you.
Dazai glanced at the door and frowned. He's been trying to avoid any meaningful confrontation but judging from the sounds outside he swallowed. He knew those footsteps better than anyone and it was only a matter of time before “he” showed up. This might as well be happening today. Without warning Chuuya emerged from the doorway looking annoyed. 
“Okay, which one of you is the weretiger!”
Atsushi hesitantly raised his hand. You raised an eyebrow at the exchange. What was the mafia executive doing looking for Atsushi? Dazai sighed and rose to his feet, putting an arm around Atsushi as Chuuya approached the two. 
“Why Chuuya, what brings you out to our domain! I almost didn't see you there, have you gotten shorter?” He smiles cheerfully. You swear you could see flowers and sparkles surrounding him.
Chuuya crossed his arms “Go to hell and wait your turn. I have a bone to pick with you after I square away business with the tiger boy.” He glared at Atsushi, sizing him up. “And you, my boy Akutagawa hasn't been the same since your guy's little rescue operation. Mind telling me why that is?” It was surprisingly less threatening and more of a genuine question.
Atsushi’s face flushed a few shades darker “Why don't you ask him! He's the one who-” He stopped mid sentence, groaning. He figured Akutagawa wouldn't talk about it to anyone either but being asked directly because Akutagawa was out of sorts was insulting. How did he think Atsushi felt? “You know what, the bottom line is I'm pregnant and it's his fault he used his stupid ability like that. If anything I should be the one who's traumatized!” 
Chuuya hummed, putting his hand under his chin as he thought about an earlier encounter. “Oh so that's why he was muttering about being bound to the weretiger. He was saying something about not even holding hands yet and having to marry you. Guess that makes me the godfather for two babies then.” the redhead shrugged like this conversation was an everyday occurrence.
Atsushi slouched, was this karma for trying to suggest that Fyodor and Nikolai should get married? 
“Don’t tell me Akutagawa is religious too.”
Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows. “What? No listen kid, this is about stepping up to responsibilities. Raising a kid's a big deal.” He looked over at Dazai with a smirk about to add one more thing but Dazai interjected, flicking the brim of Chuuya's hat.
He continued to wave his hand in the other's face. “Who said you were the godfather? I don't remember calling you.” Both of their expressions went flat for a moment as they glared at each other passively.
“You should have, it would have been better to hear the news from you than from Mori.” He huffed “Why didn't you? It's not like you to go back on your word. What happened too, I wouldn't lie about something like this.” He mocked in a Dazai like fashion.
“I thought you were too drunk to remember that!” Dazai whined.
“Yeah well I also remember promising to be your best man if you ever lived long enough to find someone.” Chuuya leaned back into his hip “So?” the redhead crossed his arms, waiting.
“So what?” Dazai said matter of factly. As the two stared back at each other, Atsushi finally sat down. Why did they have to do this at his desk?
“So what? You're not even going to introduce me!”
Dazai rolled his eyes. Is that really what Chuuya came here for? When Chuuya walked in you had gotten up from your desk to make tea. As you brought the cups over Dazai walked around you and put his hand on your shoulder “(Y/N), Chuuya, Chuuya, (Y/N). There, you happy?”
“Wait (Y/N)? You mean your-” Dazai cut him off but Chuuya looked surprised. You wonder what he was going to say. It sounded important.
Dazai pankicked and grabbed the other from behind covering his mouth as he dragged him out into the hallway. “Nope that's it you overstayed your welcome.” 
Once the door shut Ranpo pouted “I'm pregnant too ya know. I wouldn't mind Mr. Fancy hat being the godfather.” He puffed out his cheeks.
Atsushi rolled his eyes. “That's all you got from that!”
Ranpo sighed “No, I also got the image of Akutagawa tying you up so thanks for that.” 
Atsushi stood up so fast his chair nearly fell over. “How can everybody speak about it so casually!” 
He looked over to you with pleading eyes. Atsushi was probably hoping you'd back him up. Instead you laughed, handing him the disregarded tea. 
“Well for starters only the adults are here today and the more you talk about it the less power it has.” You handed the detective another cup. “Although instead of putting you on the spot Ranpo should have asked if you wanted to talk about it first or at least opened up about his experience.”
He took a sip of tea before shrugging. Ranpo didn't mind sharing at all in fact he’s glad someone asked about it. “Not much to say really. Poe hugged me from behind and by the time I realized he wasn't doing it to be cute I just kinda went with it.” Ranpo shrugged with a smile on his face. “I'm more curious what happened with Kunikida!”
The blonde tensed as you set the last cup down in front of him. He had stopped his typing as a bead of sweat dripped down the side of his face. “Do I have too?” Out of everyone in the office Kunikida had been the one trying the hardest to skirt around the conversations. He wanted to forget it ever happened. It was bad enough that Dazai would tease him about it whenever they were alone.
Ranpo hummed “Akiko's really careful because she could never give up drinking for that long, so since you're not forced into being a dad, dealer's choice?” You all nodded in agreement, it only seemed fair since you were putting him on the spot.
Kunikida pushed up his glasses. You assume he probably doesn't want to share. Instead he turns to address you. “Which reminds me, I thought Yosano gave you a contraceptive too?”
“I was so exhausted I forgot it was in my pocket and never took it.” You frowned. It didn't feel like a priority in the moment but like most of them you were out of it. “But forced parenting aside, right now this is about sexual trauma.”
 Kunikida cleared his throat “I wouldn't know what to share. I turned to look at Yosano and the next thing I know we're kissing in a passionate manner.” He paused wondering if he should say something about the elephant in the room. “Also this should go without saying, but no one is forcing you to be a parent. Ranpo and Atsushi might not have a choice but there's still plenty of time for you to think it over. No one would stop you if you decided you're not ready to be a mother.” This was true but your mind was already made up. 
Somehow only Ranpo knew of your crush? You thought it was fairly obvious. Had it been anyone else you probably would have gotten rid of it by now. 
Ranpo laughed before you could answer, sharing his two cents. “Who said I don't have a choice? I'm choosing to have this little munchkin! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to see what me and Poe create. Besides, I've always wanted a mini me!” He patted his stomach proudly.
Atsushi sipped on his tea “That's true. So in a weird way it kind of worked out for you and Poe huh. At least one of us lucked out.” He’s been avoiding Akutagawa as much as possible ever since that night.
Ranpo snickered, “I would say two of us lucked out.” He draped one around your shoulder opening his eyes to give you a smug look. “Well you care to share with the class? This was your idea after all.” 
So that’s why he bothered to bring all of this up. You sighed in defeat. “Lucked out my ass!” Your cheeks were red as Atsushi and Kunikida gave you incredulous looks “Keep in mind Dazai was fully conscious of his actions. He kind of just let me get it out of my system in hope that I would eventually snap out of it,” You groaned hiding your face in your hands “and yes, apparently I was begging him to fuck a baby into me. Is that what you wanted to hear, Ranpo!”
Ranpo blinked a few times “You didn't have to go that far but yeah I was just trying to get you to mention your crush on Dazai.”
“You have a crush on Dazai?!” Both Atsushi and Kunikida shouted. Kunikida nearly spat out his tea. You groaned “That’s why I was planning on keeping the child but I feel like I'd be baby trapping him.”
“It’s not baby trapping if you decide to keep the child, it's your body. I already told you that you have the final say.”
Everyone slowly turned their heads back to see Dazai coming back into the office. You swallowed “How much of that did you hear?”
“Not much but you already told me your reason for wanting to keep the kid.” He shrugged nonchalantly and everyone wiped their heads back to you.
Atsushi was dumbfounded. “Wait a second, let me get this straight. He knows that you-”
Dazai spoke over him. “-Always wanted kids, it's not that big of a deal. Unless that's not what we're talking about?” He tilted his head to the side. Did he miss something? It took a lot out of him to turn Chuuya away especially after the stupid slug made his own revelations about the situation. 
You released the breath you were holding. Everyone else understood Dazai was just as oblivious to your feelings as always. Eventually you would have to tell him but it was still early enough in the process to figure that out. At least everyone else in the office knew why you’ve been acting weird since that night.
Kunikida groaned at the realization. “I don't know if I can handle a mini Ranpo running around, let alone a mini Dazai.” He went back to his work. “It’s bad enough having to work with Dazai as is.”
You laughed as the two tried to defend themselves.
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melrodrigo · 5 hours
Text
friends? p.2
Cairo Sweet x Fem Reader
Summary: A rivalry between you and Cairo has been going on for several months…what does it take for her to finally break?
Warnings: there r literally none they bicker like an old couple and cairos mean
Word Count: 2k+
A/n: helloooo i’m not sure abt this chapter but lmk what u thought, i cranked this out in its entirety last night, enjoy!
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Friendship was not Cairo Sweet's strong suit. Ask her about Dickinson or Austen or Shakespeare—these were all things she could answer. But the ultimate question of friendship was not something hot on Cairo's mind.
She didn't need it, that was her take. And why would she waste time on something she didn't need?
Friends, much less a partner, was something she never saw for herself. The thought of being a housewife, living in a picture-perfect picket fence house, appalled her. The only things that mattered were her, her writing, and Yale.
So when a certain girl had entered her life, she hated it.
You.
You with your stupid face, and pretty hair, she hated you. A burning passion so intense it heated up her heart and made it race. So intense that she wanted to punch you in the face whenever you passed, only to bandage it up with feather light touches so she could punch you again harder.
At first it was nothing; she didn't have a thing to worry about. A blushing face while you stammered and fumbled around trying to give Mr. Miller an answer, she disregarded you as someone she could respect immediately.
But obviously she had caught you on a bad day, because after those first few weeks, you managed to present yourself in a less idiotic way.
You were, surprisingly smart.
Almost too smart, she pondered. It was getting in the way of her own studies. How could it be, that someone was on bar (never better) than her?
Often she found herself seething at you, arguing at every chance she had with your answers; but, you had given her the same treatment as well.
It wasn't strange for your classes to end in heated debate, both sides failing to yield. It bothered her greatly. She went back home and read more than she'd ever read before, studied just a few minutes longer because she could feel you taunting her.
"Sweet." You nodded, as she pushed open the doors to Millers class. You'd made it a habit to arrive early, leaving only you and her for a good thirty minutes before everyone else arrived.
It was infuriating. To have you so close, open, ready to harm, yet she could do nothing. She'd been having a particularly grueling week. Her parents had just come back from Brazil; and, always seemed to be ready to go at her throat. Gone were her lonely but comforting nights on her bed, candle-lit. Now it was just fights and condescending jabs.
"What did you get on the paper?" Your voice piped up, breaking her from her train of thought. You were referring to the paper Mr.Miller had given back last week, one that counted for forty percent of the grade.
She felt a swell of pride. Scores were something she could argue about. This would take off the stress she'd been building.
"99." She smirked, cocking her head to the side.
You whistled approval, nodding adamantly. Even though there was nothing to suggest so, she could swear she felt condescension in your tone.
She was good at picking out stuff like that. The roll of someone's tongue, the way they smack their lips—it all meant something to her.
She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes. "What did you get?" She asked, brows furrowed.
You didn't say anything, simply holding up a finger and mouthing 'one hundo' and watched as disbelief took over her features.
"You're fucking lying." She seethed. Her good mood had suddenly disappeared just as fast as it had appeared.
You spun around in your seat, stupid smile on your face. God, she wanted to jump at you and claw it off.
"Hey, hey, it's okay to be mad. You can't be the best at everything." You told her, hands behind your head.She gripped the desk harder, knuckles turning a faint white.
She stood up, walking over to your desk."You little shi-"
"Good morning, the both of you!" Mr.Miller interrupted, cheery smile. His enthusiasm radiated off his body like rays radiated from the sun. He stopped short when he saw Cairo stalking close to you, a clear pout on her face.
"What are you doing?" He asked, question directed towards her, voice sickly sweet. He had grown fond of Cairo since the beginning of the term; she was his favorite student.
"I'd like her to be removed from the class. Can't you do that Mr.Miller?" She avoided his question, tilting her face at an angle where her chocolate colored eyes shone bright.
His white brows furrowed, not quite comprehending. "You mean," He started, "right now...?"
Bless him, he had no clue how manipulative Cairo was.
She doesn't let up, doesn't let her disappointment show. You notice it in the slight clench of her jaw--she's annoyed.
"I meant for the rest of the term, I can't stand being in the same class as her." She emphasized her words with a glare in your direction. You send her a sweet smile back.
"Please, flattery will get you nowhere." You winked, smile turning into a real one when you see her get visibly agitated.
"Please, girls. Let's be civil here all right?" Mr.Miller pipes up, trying to stand in between Cairo and you. It does nothing to lessen the tension in the air.
He turns slightly to Cairo, voice firm. "And no...I won't kick Y/N out."
The childish part of you desperately wants to fist pump the air; but, the more serious side of you decides maybe you shouldn't do that in the company of your arch nemesis.
Class turns weird fast. Cairo—normally quick and adamant—stays quiet, seemingly distracted by the simplest of things: a bird singing softly from a window, the great big forests where her house stood, the sound of your feet continuing to scrape against the carpet.
It irks you a little. It has you not listening in class, wanting to focus on the girl in front of you.
You almost don't hear it when Miller announces that you'll be working in pairs for the midterm project, preoccupied with her bobbling head, moving as if she were listening to some imaginary music.
"You will not be able to pick your own partner, that's already been done for...by me." He adds, after hearing the onslaught of voices from the students. It's clear he's not changing his mind.
"Alright. When I call your names, go sit with your pair and discuss how you'll do the assignment. Olivia, Taylor." He calls out the first pair, going down (what seems like) an endless list of names, never quite getting to yours.
You watch as countless people move around, silently looking out for who hasn't been called yet. You needed to get a good grade on this, and a lazy partner was going to be a nightmare.
You strain your ears to hear Mr.Miller over the commotion of students moving, but when you turn to squint at him you're surprised to see he's already looking at you.
A sinking feeling eats your entire being whole as you watch his mouth move. He points his finger at you, then someone in front of you.
Cairo Sweet.
Fuck.
Even though you loved to tease her, you did not need to have Cairo Sweet as your partner. She was likely to ruin you before you even got to starting the thing.
You don't make the first move to get up, instead you sit dumbly in your chair, bracing yourself.
Your peace is disrupted by a huff from above you. There she is.
"Move over. I need a seat." She says, something in her voice making you oblige. She pulls over an extra chair and sits by the other end of the table.
"You can come closer ya know." You say, unsure of how friendly to be. You'd only ever really spoke with her from a distance, a comfortable distance. Now that she's up in your personal space you feel ike you're going to suffocate.
She ignores you, pursing her lips as she listens to Miller explain the project.
You inch your chair closer, prepared to make a sly jab at the way she's being a teachers pet, but her stare—which has now been redirected on you—stops you in your tracks. She looks scary.
Lips downturned, nostrils flaring, you're a bit taken aback.
"Okay jeez. You don't have to be such an ass about it." You mumble, distancing yourself a great deal further than you already were. The mood, if it weren't enough already, turns more sour.
She ignores your suggestions and remarks on how to do the project, scribbling something down on to her notepad every now and then.
"Earth to you, Sweet. Are you listening to me?" You press, starting to feel those tendrils of annoyance grabbing you. It was one thing to be an ass, but to put her own feelings above doing good work was low, even for her.
Especially for her, you think.
"Do you ever shut up?" She growls, biting her cheeks so hard you could see the indent it was making on the outside.
"Okayyy...someone's obviously going through something, but can we just-" You gesture to the sheet of paper on the table, you haven't even been allowed to look at what she's written yet.
"I am NOT going through something." She says again, voice cracking. The sound brings forth a peculiar reaction in you, your mouth hanging open. Her eyes look...watery.
Before you can utter a word she's getting up and storming out the classroom, making heads turn left and right at the loud noise.
"Um...I'll be right back too." You say, sending Mr.Miller a cheeky smile and a wink, hoping that'll lessen his curiousity enough to not come out after the two of you.
You push open the doors, call Cairos' name a couple times.
You eventually find her outside, back pressed against the brick wall. She's lighting up a cigarette.
Her body language looks more calm now, but you're not sure what to do. You shuffle on your feet, twiddling your thumbs.
"Sorry I did that." She speaks, not turning to look at you. It startles you a bit, you hadn't realized she saw you.
"Cairo Sweet saying sorry? I must be dreaming." You try, although you're not smiling and she doesn't laugh. Humor seems to be sucked away in this little bubble belonging to only the two of you.
You move a little closer, then even closer when Cairo doesn't object. Even though you did hate her to the bone, you wanted to make sure she was okay.
"Are you...alright?" You ask softly, watching her face for an answer. She seems to be deep in thought.
She takes a swing from her cigarette and blows. "I don't like you." Is what she says.
The ice breaks. You no longer feel like you're supposed to pity her. This was Cairo Sweet, her heart was made of coal.
"Yeah I think we established that. Anything else?" You sigh, leaning back so you're also pressed up against the wall.
She turns to you, and for the first time, she doesn't seem very mad.
"I don't like you." She says again, moving closer. It's in your natural instinct to step back, why was she being so weird? Was she going to hurt you?
She grips your shoulder lightly, enough for you to get the message to stay still.
"I don't  like you." Cairo mutters for the third time, eyes piercing into yours. She seems to be speaking a little lower, a little raspier than normal. Cogs seem to be turning in her head, debating and debating and debating.
Debating on what you can't be certain.
"I get it, you don't like me. So what?" You mummur, voice lower than normal. The proximity is making your mind feel a little clouded.
You try not to let your gaze drift down to her lips, but when there's nothing around to distract yourself with, they do.
Her freckles, the ones that litter her face. You get the disgusting urge to touch them.
"So...don't get the wrong idea." She says before taking your lips in a kiss.
It takes you a second to comprehend what's really happening. You stand frigid, mouth parting to gasp. You're gasp is swallowed by her own lips, soft and supple.
Once Cairo feels that you aren't responding, she pulls away, frightened look on her face. Pink lips downturned, her cheeks a rosy red. You don't have time to process what the right move is. For now, you don't need Cairo thinking you didn't like whatever that was.
You reach for her neck, pull her in for a second kiss. It's somehow better than the first. She responds quick, hands wandering to cup your face, then down to circle your waist, then up to tangle in your hair—like she's changing her own mind too quick.
You let her take the lead, pressing you into the wall with a strength you didn't know she possessed.
You're too lost in it all, the smell of her shampoo, the feeling of her teeth scraping your lips, biting down only the slightest, her fingers burning traces wherever they go.
"Sweet." You breathe, coming out more like a soft moan than you would've liked.
She breaks apart from you, a wild mess. You think she's never looked prettier, hair everywhere, lips torn from your heated kisses.
Her eyes are soft until they flash and something else takes over. It's as if your voice had brought her back to life.
"I don't like you." She snarls, and promptly turns on her heels, just a slight increase in speed than her normal strut.
You're left breathless, staring out into the green plains. Mind and heart racing, you're not sure which organ you should listen to.
The implication of what you did hits you like a freight train. You groan and press your hands to your head, willing and willing and willing for a solution to come out of it.
Not to anyones surprise, nothing comes. A magic fairy doesn't tell you what to do, and you're still standing behind school panting.
"Oh god."
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tsams-confessions · 20 hours
Note
We're coming off anon with this one boys. It's long and I apologize but it's been weighing on my mind for quite some time.
There are three things people tend to know me for in this fandom. My art, my fanfics, or my thread on TSBS server. Said thread is a place where I talk about the psychological aspects of the show, as well as do character analyses and sometimes even analyze entire lore uploads for the kicks and giggles. I'm a psychology major, I also have ASPD. I made the thread so I could talk about Eclipse, who at the time I suspected had the same disorder I do and which was later confirmed less than a week after I made the thread. Since then Ruin has also been confirmed as an ASPD haver, which I personally deeply enjoy. It's fun for me to talk about my disorder and relate it to the show since ASPD is really hard to understand. 99% of people are inherently capable of empathy, and about 2% of that 98% lose that ability during childhood. So it's understandably not a very well-understood disorder. It's also a very scary and dark disorder, and I can say that honestly because I live with it. Due to this fact, it tends to be villainized in media, and I am very refreshed by the fact that TSAMS does a good job of not making their ASPD havers raving lunatics with a thirst for blood. 
Anyways, that's just background information. So far I haven't met very many weirdos about ASPD in this fandom. Almost everyone is very chill with the fact that I am a sociopath and I haven't received a ton of weird comments about it. It's a relief since I deal with a lot of open stigma and harassment irl because I refuse to pretend to be something I'm not. However, there was an instance in my thread when I was actively talking about ASPD, and a new member decided to. . . I don't even know. It was creepy and weird, and really uncomfortable. They basically told me that I'm 'too nice of a person to be a sociopath' and that they could tell that I wasn't a sociopath because they see the good in people. They also said that they were surprised that there are sociopathic people and inferred that sociopaths are pretending, whatever that means. They kept going to keep making weird and stigmatized comments about the disorder, as well as continuing to compliment me in a very unnerving way. I think about it a lot because it was very uncomfortable to be interrupted like that in the middle of talking about ASPD. There was the new mod online and participating in the conversation, but they didn't say anything to the person who was actively making me uncomfortable, even though I expressed such in the chat. 
I deal with a lot of stigma and ableism in my day-to-day life, where people tell me that I can't be a sociopath because of really stupid shit. Like the fact, I get along with people or want to help people in the medical field. Or the time-tried 'but you're a woman' comments. I don't understand why the mod kinda just left me to fend for myself and ignored the person causing issues, and while I don't hold it against them, I do have anxiety about this situation repeating itself in the future. It's not easy to talk about a disorder that the average person could not even dream of understanding, and it's even harder when people who don't know you are trying to tell you that your disorder is fake based on flimsy reasoning. It's really invalidating of the actual hellscape I had to survive to be able to even turn 18, and it rakes up my anxiety to a 10 just at the thought of it. There's not a lot of safe spaces for someone to talk about having a dark disorder, and even less for something as rare and misunderstood as ASPD. It's hard enough as it is being a high-functioning sociopath, and I just needed to rant, I suppose. Haha, could make it a "tl;dr even I get offended sometimes."
Anyway, not dropping names, but it wasn't a private matter. Nor am I upset with the mods, it's just a thing that happened that I think about a lot because it's a very rare thing for me to be offended. Glad that the majority of this fandom that I've interacted with has been willing to hear me out ASPD, but I just worry about having a repeat situation like this. It's a very sad thing to witness in this fandom that talks about inclusivity. We can't pick and choose our disorders, and where there are canon sociopaths in the show one would think the fans would try to be a little more educated on the disorder (not directed towards anyone and I appreciate the people who are willing to ask me things about it instead of making assumptions).
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an0ther1 · 3 days
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Untitled pt.2
Leah x OC
A/N: A little more in my current project. I’m still getting a feel for my characters. Feedback/thoughts welcome.
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“What are we at, one more week?” Kim adjusted the weight on the bench press bar.
“Abouts yeah. I make it to the end of the week without any pain and things feel normal, I’ll get to run on the grass with everyone next.”
Kim laid down on the bench. “Well I’m sure you know what I’m going to say, but I’m going to say it anyway. Don’t do anything stupid and listen to your body. If something is off, waiting an extra day or 2 isn’t going to kill you.” She pushed the bar up off the rack. “Trust me.” She grunted as she lowered the bar to her chest.
“I hear you. And I won’t.”
“Hey Caps.” Beth came bouncing to the end of the bench. “Le, what time do we have the venue for Saturday?”
“Umm, 9 until whenever really. Though I told ‘em it would probably wrap up around 5. 6 hours for a baby shower seemed like more than enough.” Leah answered as she spotted Kim.
“Probably right on that. So we have 2 hours to decorate? That should be plenty. I think Steph has the catering scheduled for between 10 and 11.” Beth twisted her lips as she tried to remember.
“What did I do?”
“Catering. What time is that showing up?”
“Ah, yeah. 10:30 bouts. I’ll call and confirm on Thursday though.”
Kim put the bar back on the rack and sat up. “If we can get in at 9, I’ll schedule the cake and sweets to come around 10.”
“So we just need all the girls to show up at 9 to set up?” Leah switched with Kim after removing a few pounds from either end of the bar.
“Yeah, that should be about it. Caitlin promised that she kept a check on Katie and the games, but Stina is going to claim that she will be the one running the games so she can see what she came up with.”
“Good idea Meado. When Katie called dibs on games and said she was going to use a few “McCabe family classics” I was a bit worried about what those would entail. You really never know what you might get with an Irish family that large.” Kim helped Leah lift the bar to start her set.
“I thought most of Katie’s siblings were younger than her?” Steph asked.
“Ask her to name all her cousins some time.” Lotte interjected as she joined the group. “We talking about Erin’s baby shower?” The group nodded. “You know she’s right there.” Lotte pointed across the room to Erin, their social media content creator, who was sitting in a chair with a laptop balanced on a very round belly. “I thought this was supposed to be a surprise.”
“She has her headphones in editing. She can’t hear anything.” Beth shrugged. “You have everything worked out with Dylan?”
“Yeah. Him and Tao have some plan that Dylan swears Erin will fall for. They’re going to tell her I have a children’s event to attend so I can help set up.”
“Great. And Viv has been talking to Erin’s family, she just needs to confirm the time with them.” Beth added.
“What about Dylan’s family?” Leah said as she finished her set in the bench press. “I know they're American, but is Dylan’s parents planning on being here when Gemma is born? They might be in by then.”
Lotte shook her head. “Dylan told me and Tao he doesn’t talk to anyone in his family besides his cousin Rose.”
“Wait, isn’t that the middle name they’re giving Gemma?” Steph asked.
“Yeah. Rose is the cousin he grew up with. Dylan talks about her like a sister. I think she’s a year or two older. But she’ll be there. So he’ll at least have some family.” Lotte finished.
“Sounds like this is going to be a fantastic party for our little Gooner and her mum.” Kim looked around the group. “But now, finish up your reps. We’re on the pitch in 30.”
Everyone saluted their captain before dispersing.
**************************
The week for the most part had gone smoothly. The team didn’t have their first January game for another 10 days. But Leah was finally going to be able to join team trainings next week, after almost 9 months, and the anticipation was wearing her thin. Several times she was asked if she was excited, or nervous, and repeatedly reminded that the wait was almost over. Almost. She was sure Saturday was going to be full of the same, though the full Arsenal staff and then some would be at Erin’s baby shower, so Leah would hear it ten fold. She needed a break. Which is how she found herself out to dinner on a Friday night, alone, sitting at the end of the bar top of the restaurant she had come to the previous week. She had come in a little earlier this time though, hoping it would be less crowded before the dinner rush, and she had been right, allowing her to get the same seat at the end with her back to everyone else. Tonight she would be any other diner. Not soon to return from injury, Leah Williamson.
Leah greeted Colin as she took her seat, ordering a glass of Chardonnay. The bar keep was placing the glass in front of Leah with a menu before she had even gotten comfortable.
“Would you like the chicken again?” The ginger asked.
“Might do an app first. Take my time and do some reading on my phone if it’s no bother.” Leah smiled.
“Not at all. I’d say the hummus is great. That and the pitas are made in house.”
“Yeah? Alright. I’ll start with that, thanks.” Leah pushed the menu back towards Colin. “And I’ll order the chicken a little later.”
Colin reached for the menu. “I’ll have that right out.”
Leah leaned back in her chair and pulled up the book she was reading on her phone. Picking the wine glass up off the bar, she took a small sip and relaxed. Colin placed a plate in front of her a short time later and for the next 20 minutes or so, she enjoyed her wine and appetizer completely uninterrupted while she read. The noise in the restaurant slowly rose as the main dining area filled and the seats at the bar top were taken one by one. Colin had just refilled her wine and was putting in her dinner order when someone finally claimed the last seat next to her.
“Is this seat taken, miss?”
Leah had heard that voice before. She lowered her phone. “No it’s not. By all means.” She smiled at the new guest. “Hello again RJ.”
“Miss Williamson.” RJ smiled softly as they pulled out the chair before placing their coat over the back. “Nice seeing you here again.”
“Will you be watching another football match?” Leah asked as she watched RJ prop their phone up on top of the bar.
“I was planning on finally watching Sinclair’s last international match. Figured if I did it in public I wouldn’t cry.” RJ waved at Colin and gave him a thumbs up. Clearly not needing words to order.
“Are you Canadian?”
RJ chuckled and shook their head slightly. “No. But as a kid I just kind of decided she was my favorite player and that was that. Figured after a month I should finally just bite the bullet and watch the damn game.”
“Mmmm, yeah, retirement games are hard to watch. She’s still playing one more year for the Thorns though, yeah?” Leah finished the last of her wine and caught Colin’s eye, signally for another glass.
“She is. But that doesn’t make watching this any easier.” RJ picked up their phone and waved it before unlocking it. Leah couldn’t help but notice that their background looked like an abstract black and white print of some sort. Once RJ had the game queued up they set it back on the bar top. “You’re welcome to watch. But I won’t bother you if you wish to continue what you were doing.” They hit the play button on the screen.
“Thank you. I think I might try to finish this chapter of the book I was reading.” Leah turned back to her phone as Colin placed RJ’s drink down and refilled Leah’s wine glass. The pair sat in companionable silence as Leah continued reading.
“Who do you think is going to take the armband in the future?” Leah broke the silence after putting her phone down. “Sinc has been captain far longer than I can remember.”
“Fleming.” JR’s said with a seconds hesitation.
“Seriously? She’s so young?”
RJ turned in their chair and looked Leah straight in the eye. “Really?” They paused for a moment. “You, the youngest captain in England history, is going to say that Jessie Fleming, who is 25, is too young.”
“Oh. Yeah I see your point.”
“Aside from her age.” RJ turned back. “She’s been a regular fixture on the national team for about 9 years. When Sinc and Schmidt stepped off this field she was the 4th longest tenured player on the team.” RJ took a sip of their drink.
“You aren’t just a casual fan, are you?
RJ side-eyed Leah. “What makes you say that?”
“A casual fan generally doesn’t know those types of statistics for a player who don’t play for their team”
“How do you know she doesn’t play for “my team”?” RJ used air quotes. “She may not play for the US, but.”
“Ew. You’re a Chelsea fan?” Leah dramatically recoiled further from RJ who just laughed.
“No.” RJ smiled. A full bright, cheerful smile. “I am a fan of the players individually, especially Fishel and Macario. But not the team as a whole.”
“Do you even have a WSL team?” Leah raised an eyebrow.
“I do.” RJ smirked. “And don’t worry. They wear the right shade of red.” They leaned back in their seat. “Can I ask you something? None football related and not terribly personal.” They rushed out the last bit. “And you obviously don’t have to answer.”
“Well with those conditions, sure.”
RJ tilted their head. “If you hadn’t become a pro footballer, what would you have chosen to do?”
“Probably an accountant or something like that. I’m pretty good with numbers and enjoy that there is always an answer to any problem.”
“Figures.”
“What’s that s’pose to me?” Leah asked, offended by the assumption, regardless of what it was.
“You play football like a mathematician, calculated.”
“Oh.” Leah adjusted in her seat, sitting up a bit straighter. “Thank you.”
RJ just hummed in response.
“What about you? You obviously know what I do and now what I would do.” Leah relaxed a bit in her chair. “Colin said you did something in media, I think.”
RJ glanced down the bar at the mentioned bartender. “Digital media.”
“What do you do in digital media? That seems like a, a very broad field. And do you work for a company in the UK?”
RJ took a long slow sip of their drink, clearly stalling as they then swirled the liquid in the glass before answering. “The company is US based. I do a lot of behind the scenes stuff, sometimes editing, camera work, desk stuff.”
Leah picked up her phone. “Must be a small company if you’re doing all of that. Is there an Insta page I can check out? Give a like.”
“Yes, we have an Instagram account.”
“Okay. What’s the name of the company?” Leah had the app open and was just waiting.
RJ had their glass to their lips when they answered. “-third.”
“What was that?”
“Attacking Third.” RJ repeated.
“Really? That’s the show that covers the NWSL, right?” Leah started looking at the company's account on their app. “If they cover the NSWL, what are you doing here? Covering former NWSL players or something?”
“Something like that.”
Colin approached with a plate in hand. “Ms. Williamson, your chicken.” He slid the plate onto the bartop. “Enjoy. RJ, did you want anything?” RJ raised their now empty glass. “Be right back.”
After Colin dropped off the drink, the pair continued watching the game in silence as Leah ate her meal. Her plate was finished and cleared away when the match hit halftime. “I should get going. I have an event I need to be at tomorrow morning with the girls that will be far more mentally draining than 90 minutes on the pitch.”
RJ chuckled. “I can only imagine.”
The footballer gave the other patron a soft smile. “It was good to see you again. Maybe we’ll get lucky again.”
“I’ll get my hopes up.” They smiled. “Have a good evening Ms. Williamson.”
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wenellyb · 20 hours
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Random thoughts on Bucktommy and Buddie
Please bare in mind that I'm only sharing my personal opinion and that I'm always open to discuss.
The discussions I've had over the past couples of weeks have been very interesting and I wanted to add my 2 cents.
Before season 7 episode:
I'm a causal viewer of 911 and I'm also on Tumblr so of course, I know Buddie, but I've never really shipped it... I can understand the appeal and I think the ship has potential but I never felt like the writers ever intended to go there. And I'm not a big fan of non-canon ships.
If they had gotten together, however, I think that I would have enjoyed it.
What has always bothered me was the behavior of some Buddie shippers who would complain about queerbaiting on the show, when there were already several Queers characters in it and one character (Hen), who's part of the main cast. I always got a weird feeling that those shippers didn't care about Queer characters if they weren't White. There is also a spinoff of the show, 911 Lone star with Queer characters who are also part of the main cast.
To me, the fact that Buck and Eddie never got together was a writing decision, not queerbaiting or anything like that... the writers had decided this wasn't the way to go for Buck and Eddie's chatacters, because if they had wanted to write a storyline between them, they could have.
I've seen a lot of people being happy about Buck being confirmed as Bi, and I get it. But to me, it was confirmed he was bi in the 911/911 Lone Star crossover when TK told Buck he had a boyfriend after Buck asked him out. I was just waiting for a storyline to confirm it. Obviously, I always thought the storyline would involve Eddie, but I was wrong.
After Season 7 Episode 4:
I follow some 911 accounts so I knew something was happening before the episode aired and I saw a preview of Buck seemingly being jealous of Eddie leaving with Tommy and I thought... this is it, this is where the writers are going to confirm Buddie. Buck will realize his jealous and realize he has feeling for Eddie or something like that.
I was very curious so I tuned in for that episode and imagine my surprise when I realized at the end, that the jealousy wasn't about who we thought and all this time the writers had been planning a storyline with Tommy.
So to me, it doesn't look like the writers are planning a Buddie storyline. Otherwise they would have prepared it gradually after the Buck and TK's discussion.
That doesn't mean it won't change in the future, writers and showrunners can change but I have never noticed them introducing a storyline that could lead to a Buddie relationship.
Everytime I see a post "proving" Buddie, it's always showing something friends or best friends do (hugging, being affectionnate), even Eddie making Buck Chris' legal guardian is something a best friend could do.
I'm not saying that they couldn't be romantic in another context, but there hasn't been any indication that the writers are planning a romantic plot for Buck and Eddie.
The writers decided to go there with Buck and Tommy. They're treating their story like a romcom, with the kiss, the hearteyes and everything. Buck is obviously into Tommy and being ready to tell the world about him.
That's the storyline the writers have decided to give us and it's a very nice one.
I know a lot of people are expecting Tommy and Buck to be temporary but to me that's wishful thinking. It wouldn't make sense to have Buck invite Tommy to his sister's wedding just for them to break up a few episodes later. If a breakup is what the writers had in mind, they would just set up another normal date.
Shipping goggles are ok, I have other ships for which I have shipping goggles on and for which I'm not very objective.
What's not ok is trying to ruin the fun of Bucktommy shippers who are trying to enjoy this beautiful storyline but can't go in the tags without seeing a post about the ship's impeding break up.
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