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#okay apologies for being sad tonight
delicate-dorothea · 7 months
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The Last Time
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Summary: Peter's on the verge of losing you after disappointing you yet again.
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He didn’t show, the night was over and Peter was nowhere to be found. 
You tried your best to mask your disappointment with a tall face as all the attendees started to trickle out of your college’s art exhibit, a handful of them congratulating and complimenting you on your artwork as they passed you. 
It wasn't until you saw May walking towards you with a sympathetic look on her face that you felt your facade falter, “I’m so sorry darling,” she said as she brought you into a hug squeezing you. 
“It’s fine, May. Thank you for coming, I really appreciate it.” You give her a sad smile pulling away from her. You take a deep breath, “May…I hate to do this but do you think I could get a raincheck on dinner tonight? I just want to go home.”
There’s a visible look of sadness on her face but she nods, “Of course you can, it’s beautiful by the way,” she says, angling her body to face your painting. 
You mimic her actions, giving your painting a one over, “Thanks, I wasn’t sure about letting them display it when my art professor–she's the director of the exhibit asked. But I’m glad I did, a lot of people seemed to like it.” 
“I can see why!” She exclaims. 
Just as you were about to speak, the voice of your professor cut through all the chatter, “Ladies and gentlemen the art exhibit is now closing! Please make your way to the exit!”
You motion for her to follow you as you head to the doors. “How are you getting home? I could give you a ride,” she questioned. You shake your head, "I don’t think I can be around a Parker right now, at least not without wanting to cry.” 
She frowns upon hearing your words, “Oh.” You push and hold the door open for her, “I know this is an unfair thing to ask of you but can you tell Peter I don’t want to hear from him anymore?” 
May freezes the second she makes it outside, fully processing what you just said, “I’m sure he’s sorry–” She’s trying to save him, you both know she is. “I’m sure he is but I’m not interested in hearing his poor excuse of an apology. He knew how important this was to me and he said he’d be here, but he’s not. There’s only so many times you can let a person disappoint you, May.” Your eyes well with tears as you think back to telling him about being a part of the exhibit and how he added opening night to the calendar on his phone as well as the one that hung in his room, even going as far as drawing a heart around the square.
Cars start to whizz by as the traffic light turns green and you let out a defeated sigh, opening your arms to hug her goodbye, “It’s getting late and I don’t want to miss the train, you should head home too.” This time she hugs you tightly, “Give me a call when you get home, alright?”
You nod your head in response, “Thank you for coming, it means a lot to me. Have a goodnight and drive safe, okay?” Her hold on you gets even tighter, mumbling a goodnight to you before releasing you. 
She stands still and watches you disappear down the street before pulling her phone out, attempting to reach Peter herself and when she's unable to, she leaves him a devastating voicemail, a voicemail he wouldn't hear until thirty minutes later when he was stood in front of ESU’s now dark and empty art center. 
“...She said doesn’t want to hear from you anymore and honestly? I don’t blame her. She watched the door all night for you. All night, Peter, all night! She looked so heartbroken. She was trying her best to hide it but that look on her face, it was soul-crushing. I think this is it for you, ‘there are only so many times you can let a person disappoint you’ those were her exact words. She’s disappointed in you and frankly so am I, I didn’t raise you to act like this. You fucked up big time, there’s no point in sugarcoating it. I adore that girl and I know you do too but you’re losing her…”
Peter could feel the panic rising in his chest as he listened, the thought of losing you made his stomach churn. There's a slight shake in his hand as he presses his phone to his ear, his breath is caught in his throat as he waits for the calls to start ringing, praying you hadn’t blocked him. A sigh of relief escapes his mouth when it does but when the rings halt and his phone buzzes with a text message from you, he could feel all the air leave his lungs. 
Sorry, I can’t talk right now.
Peter rushes to text you back; I’m so sorry honey. 
He can see that you read his message but when you don't respond, he sends you another, and another, and another.  
May left me a voicemail 
I know I fucked up 
And that I keep fucking up
But I can fix it 
Can we please talk? 
A spark of hope ignites within him as he watches the three dots appear on the screen but the feeling dwindles once he reads your message; It’s late, I’m tired and I don't want to hear or see you, please just leave me alone.  
Peter goes to respond but another message appears in the chat informing him that you had silenced your notifications. His eyes never leave the screen, reading and rereading all the texts you’d sent him throughout the night, heart getting heavier and heavier with every message. He knows he should just listen and let you be but he goes against your wishes and sends one last message, I love you, I’m sorry.
—————————————
The sound of your phone ringing slices through the noise of the hand mixer you were using and the crinkles of the paper bag your cat was playing with. You glance at the screen, eyes scanning the contact name before turning off the mixer, answering the call, and bringing it up to your ear, “Hello?” 
“Hello sweetheart, how are you feeling today?” Your elderly neighbor’s voice comes through clearly on the other end. A sigh leaves your lips, “Better, better than yesterday at least, I’m trying to keep myself occupied…giving baking a shot.” She hums in response, “Listen dear…I hate to be the bearer of bad news but he’s here.” 
Your eyebrows knit together, “What do you mean?” 
“That boy of yours. I’ve been watching him, he’s been standing at the door for the past half an hour.” You walk into the living room and over to the window, peeking through the blinds and sure enough there he was standing in front of the door of the duplex with his head hung low. “Do you want me to shoo him away? My grandson left his toy gun here the other day, you know the one with the foam bullets…I’ll take him out for you, sweetheart.” 
Despite being amused by her words, a frown forms on your face, “Stand down, Mrs. Temple. I’ll handle him.” 
“Alright, but if he gives you any trouble just let me know. I’ll give him hell.” Her soft voice now stern, “I know you will, remember how you asked me for his number last night cause you wanted to cuss him out?” You can hear her let out a huff on the other end before exclaiming, “He made you cry! I should go out there and jam my knitting needle through his eye.” 
“That won’t be necessary, I’ll just tell him to leave and everything will be fine. And oh! Before I forget, do you like funfetti cake? I’ll bring it up for you and Mr.Temple a few slices when it's done.” 
“We’d love that!” 
The two of you exchange goodbyes and end the call. You take a second to collect yourself, taking a deep breath before opening the window, “What are you doing here?” 
His head darts up, “Honey,” the sound of his voice catches the attention of your cat, who jumps on the windowsill to see him. He turns his entire body in your direction, digging his hands further into the pockets of his jacket, “Can we talk, please?” 
You shake your head, “I meant what I said, Peter, I don't want to see you. Just go home.” 
He opens his mouth to protest but you’re quick to shut the window and draw the blinds close. You walk back into the kitchen, glancing over your shoulder expecting to see your cat following close behind but much to your surprise, he’s waiting by the door. The sight made your heart hurt, “Snaps… I’m sorry buddy but he’s not coming.” 
—————————————
Disaster. 
That’s exactly how you’d describe the state of your kitchen. Your sink was piled high with mixing bowls and baking pans but it was all worth it once you added the final dusting of rainbow sprinkles to the frosted cake. 
“Okay, Snaps, the cake is done, emergency chocolate chip cookies are in the oven. How do we feel about Coming to America tonight?” You ask aloud as you slice into the cake. 
You look up at him perched on the windowsill, head poking around the blinds to watch the rain pour outside.“I’m going to run upstairs, you stay he–” you’re cut off by your ringtone, “Hey Mrs. Temple, I was just about to bring some cake up for you guys.” 
“He’s still here, dear.” Her words made you feel uneasy, “He came back?” 
“I’m not sure he ever left….he’s just sitting there.” You rush over to the window, pulling the blinds back, squinting your eyes trying to catch a glimpse of him on the stoop. “Oh my god! Can I call you back?” You didn't wait for her reply before ending the call. 
You can feel your chest tighten as you leave your apartment and make the short walk to the building’s entryway. You inhale sharply before opening the door, to reveal Peter scrabbling to his feet. The rain mercilessly beats against his already drenched skin, he looks completely exhausted. “Hi,” his voice comes out as a whisper. 
“Are you out of your fucking mind? Do you have any idea of how sick you'll get?” You scold him, stepping aside and opening the door wider for him to enter. 
“I’m sorry,” he croaks out as he follows closely behind into your apartment, you ignore his words and the way Snaps starts to nuzzle against Peter’s leg only to pull away when he feels the cold and wet fabric of Peter’s jeans, “Go warm up in the shower, I’ll bring you a towel and some clothes,” you say walking into your bedroom. 
You search through your drawer for something warm, eventually settling on a pair of flannel pajamas bottoms he’d left at your place for the nights he slept over, the sweatshirt you’d slept in the night before, and a pair of your fuzzy socks he stole from you. 
You use your knuckle to knock on the bathroom door, “Peter? I’m coming in,” you said, turning the handle. “No, wait!” Peter calls out but he’s too late, you’ve already seen it. His suit. 
“What the fuck!” Your eyes go wide as you scan the spider symbol on his chest. 
Peter freezes, paralyzed by fear, this was not how you were supposed to find out. “It’s not what it looks like!” he blurts out, voice laced with panic. He watches your shoulder slump back and your eyes well with tears, you’ve never felt worse. 
“Please, don’t cry. I can explain–” the sound of the oven’s timer going off causes you to shift your focus, shoving the towel in his hands. “I laid some clothes out for you,” was all you said before hurrying towards the kitchen. 
—————————————
You were sprawled out on the couch, staring at the ceiling trying to make sense of it all. Every moment you spent with Peter replaying over and over again in your head, mentally berating yourself for not piecing everything together sooner. All the cuts and bruises you’ve cleaned and iced, the dates he missed ‘cause he ‘lost track of time’, every question he’d answer vaguely or just flat out avoid, every question you wanted to ask but held your tongue afraid you would come off as pushing or invasive and he’d leave. 
The sound of the bathroom door opening and closing followed by Peter’s faint footsteps and a soft meow causes you to shut your eyes, bracing yourself for the impending conversation to be had. You listened intently as his steps got closer and closer until they stopped right in front of the couch, you had a feeling he was standing over you and your suspicions were confirmed when a droplet of water falling onto your forehead caused you to open your eyes. 
The sight of Peter cradling Snaps like a baby immediately comes into view, “Sorry about that,” he says, shifting your cat to support him with just one arm, and using his now free hand to wipe your forehead. 
“It’s fine,” you mumble, sitting up and scooting over, patting the spot next to you. 
An awkward silence falls over the room, neither of you not knowing where to begin, “Thank you for doing this– for letting me in.” Your leg bounces as you try to work up the nerve to finally address the elephant in the room, opening your mouth to speak but shutting it when no words seem to come out until, “So…you’re Spider-Man?”
Peter swallows thickly, “I am.” 
“Oh,” you say nervously fiddling with your fingers, “I guess it makes sense.” 
“It does?”
You shrug your shoulders, “The longer I think about it…yeah. I’ve always assumed that whoever was under the mask was too smart and too courageous for their own good, no one fits that description better than you. And then there's every single injury you’ve ever had ever, no one trips and falls that many times, Pete.” 
He was just about to say something until he hears you, whispering to yourself under your breath, “I can’t believe I dated a superhero.” 
“Dated?” He repeats back your use of past tense only adds to the unsettling feeling in his chest, you were giving up on him and he deserves it. 
You hum in response, “I know May told you what I said– about there only being a certain amount of times you can let someone disappoint you, and you are way past your limit. I think it’s better if we both just accept this is how things were meant to be. Look you can stay tonight but I think it’s best that in the morning all we are is strangers.” Your voice wavers at the end and it makes his heart plummet. 
Tears pool in his eyes, “S-strangers?” 
He shakes his head repeatedly, “No, no, no. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go–”
You furrow your brows at him, “And how exactly was this supposed to go?”
He hangs his head, glancing down at the cat looking back at him, Snaps stretches his paw out to touch his face, “We were supposed to talk it through, I went to the show- I bought flowers, they’re in my bag they're probably ruined now but I have them! I was going to tell you about being Spider-Man but then you weren’t there so I came here.”
“Me knowing about Spider-Man doesn’t really change anything.” 
“It doesn’t?”
“I guess It does-” he picks his head up as the words leave your mouth but it is quick to drop it again when you finish your speaking, “-just not in the way it counts.” 
“Oh,” he can feel his entire body deflate, “What does that mean?” 
 You let out a defeated sigh, “It means I understand why you were always running late or missing dates completely, and why you’ve shown up here sometimes looking as good as dead.” 
“But…?” 
“But it changes nothing about us, our relationship has never been a priority–”
He’s quick to cut you off, “That’s not true.” 
“But it is, Peter. You’ve had a million chances to prove otherwise and you haven’t. I love you-”
“I love you too.”
“-but I can’t keep doing this, I don’t have it in me anymore,” you wipe away the tears that start to roll down your cheeks. “You just aren’t reliable, Peter.”
“What if I could be reliable? Give you stability?” 
“Peter we’ve already been down this road before–” 
“It’s different this time,” he insists, “I haven’t been able to balance being me and being Spider-Man, I’ve lost so much because being Spider-Man has completely dictated my life and I was fine with it because all heroes have to make sacrifices but none of it is worth it if it means I lose you too.” 
Snaps wiggles out of Peter’s arms and onto the floor, giving Peter the chance to grab ahold of your hands, “I can be both and also give you stability, you deserve better and I’ll do everything I can to be better. I don’t want to lose you, Honey, I don’t. Please, let me show that I can be reliable–that our relationship is a priority.” 
Your silence is deafening, you do your best to avoid Peter’s pleading eyes as you weigh options,
“Parker, I swear to fucking god you better pray your lucky number is a million and one because this is the last time I’m ever doing this with you.”
He perks up immediately, eyes glistening as he processes what you said. His mouth opens but you start to speak before he’s able to get a word out, “If we’re doing this then there's a few rules I’d like to set and they’re all non-negotiable.” 
“Lay it on me.”
“Date night. Twice a month, no expectations. I don’t care if we go out or stay in, I just want a couple of nights off with my boyfriend. You flake, you’re out. Got it? ”
“Got it.”
“Wait, that made me feel like a bitch, to clarify that doesn’t apply to serious situations. I’m not going to stop you from helping or anything like that, I just want two nights out of the month reserved specifically for us.”
“I knew what you meant,” Peter reassures. 
“Could you call or text me when you get home after you’re done with Spider-Man stuff? I’d like to know you’re safe.” 
“Consider it done. Can I add a rule of my own?” 
“Go for it.” 
“Can you leave one of the windows in the bedroom unlocked for me? Since you know now I figured I could come over right after patrol and skip the whole ‘changing in an alley somewhere’ part.” 
“I can do that.” 
You stand up and start walking to the kitchen, “This isn’t a rule, it's a favor but could you run this up to Mrs.Temple? And before you ask, yes you can have some.” 
Peter trails behind you, eyes sparkling when he finally sees the baked goods on your countertop. “God, I love you,” he says, giving you a wet kiss on the cheek.
—————————————
Peter’s knuckles knocked against the door, he could hear shuffling around the room before the door opened revealing Mrs. Temple with a big smile plastered on her face. 
“Oh it’s you,” she says, her smile faltering. 
He holds out the plastic cake dish for her to take, “Uh yeah, Y/n’s asked me to bring some cake up for you guys.” 
“Mmmhm…I heard what happened,” she eyed him up and down, “and by the looks of you being here, I assume my sweet girl forgave your ass?” 
Peter nods, “She did–” 
“We’ll I’m glad things worked out,” she steps closer, poking him in the chest with her finger, “But if you ever make my baby cry again, it will be the last thing you ever do.” She takes the dish from his hand, her next words were lower than a whisper, “I know a guy.” 
“Well, you and Y/n have a goodnight, tell her I’ll give her a call in the morning,” she adds before retreating back into her apartment.
“I don't think I’ve ever been more terrified of an elderly woman than I was just now,” were the first words to leave his mouth the second he returned to your apartment. 
“Oh god, did she threaten to shoot you?” 
His eyes bulged out of his head, “She has a gun?” 
You wave his question off, “No it's just a Nerf gun.”
His mouth forms into an ‘O’, “so the implication that she could put out a hit on me was a bluff?” 
“No, she really does know a guy, he’s nice.” 
—————————————
Extra:
Your head rested against Peter’s chest, the soft thumping of his heart mixed with his hand rubbing your back made your eyelids feel heavier. 
“Pete?” 
He grunted in response. 
“Why didn’t you go home? When I told you earlier?” 
“Home is where the heart is.” 
You pretend to gag at his statement, “That was too cheesy, even for you.” 
“It’s not cheesy, it's the truth and it’s endearing.” 
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leviscolwill · 6 months
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adore
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pairing: bsf!jude x fem!reader
summary: you adored your friendship with jude, but sometimes you wished things weren't so complicated between the two of you. [wc: 3,2k]
contents: mostly angst ??? a few cute moments here and there bc i'm fluff girly thru and thru 🤞, they can't communicate to save their life, drunk jude, a random man being annoying, jude being a dumb fuck, language, did i miss anything ?
note: this wip has been rotting in my drafts for a couple of months, i hope you enjoy it because i really enjoyed writing it 🫶
now playing adore by cashmere cat & ariana grande...
"please don't leave me y/n... you don't understand, i need you here."
"jude, i'm literally going to the toilet. i'll be back in 5 minutes, now let me go."
your best friend had always been the clingy type whenever he'd reach his alcohol limit (which was usually only after a couple of drinks). but tonight he was practically glued to your side, not that you minded, you basically spent your whole life attached by the hip. but you had to admit, it hurt a bit to see the person you couldn't have, not in the way you wanted to have him, at least, act all lovey-dovey with you.
the nature of your relationship with jude was complex, to say the least. he was your best friend since you were kids and you wouldn't change that for the world. but the way he looked at you sometimes made you yearn for something more, or whenever his touches on your shoulder or your waist would linger a bit too long to be friendly. maybe it was your mind playing tricks on you, after all, the chances of jude wanting you the way you wanted him were very low, not to mention the fact you led two different lives. but it didn't matter, you could manage to live and long for him with the hope that one day you could be more than a best friend to him. and this thought was all you needed to face him and his sparkly eyes for the rest of the night.
when you got out of the bathroom, your mind was still full of thoughts of your relationship with jude running in your mind. you were so engrossed in your thoughts that you bumped into a man's chest, not really being careful about your surroundings.
"i'm sorry, i wasn't looking." you quickly apologise to him, you were already on your way to your friends before the man grabbed your wrist, quickly letting it go.
"it's okay sweetheart, can i get your name as an apology ?" you cringed at his poor attempt at flirting with you, but you weren't feeling confrontational tonight.
"i'm-"
"y/n !" jude's voice made your head turn in surprise.
"you were gone for so long i almost forgot what your beautiful face looked like." he said smashing his face on your shoulder.
"is that your boyfriend?"
"ummm, no he's my-"
"depends who's asking." jude interrupted you, side-eyeing the nameless man.
"jude. i can speak for myself." the look he gave you broke your heart a bit, his lips pouting in sadness.
"if he is not your boyfriend, i'd gladly take your number, might even take you back to my hotel room..." it was obvious to everyone around that the situation was uncomfortable for you, that familiar feeling of disgust you always got when a man was being too friendly creeping on you.
"who do you think you are?" your best friend stared at the man with a frown on his face.
"jude, let's not..." the tension between the two men was evident as people stopped to stare at whatever was happening.
"relax mate, i just wanna talk to your friend nothing more." the stranger grabbed your wrist, still looking at jude, testing him, testing how far he would go to stop this.
"let me go." you didn't have to try getting away from him because jude did it for you.
the nameless guy suddenly let you go, and seeing him hold his jaw while screaming profanities at your best friend was all you needed to understand what just happened. jude punched him, but the alcohol in his veins prevented him from dodging the punch that came straight for his eyebrow.
immediately you took jude's arm before he found another idea to mess up your night some more, and walked out of the packed club for some air. you ordered a uber for the two of you and texted your friends that you were getting home early.
even fresh air couldn't rid you of the anger that coursed through your body. of course, you were mad at the man who couldn't keep his hands to himself. but another part of you couldn't help but be pissed at jude and his impulsive behaviour. but when you looked at him and saw blood trickle down from his eyebrow, everything was suddenly forgotten and you could only worry.
"fuck you're bleeding, why didn't you tell me? fuck, fuck, fuck." you searched through your bag for a tissue, mentally cursing yourself for how messy it was, and handed one to jude.
"just didn't wanna bother you..." he mumbled, holding it to his wound.
you both waited for the uber in complete silence, you knew you needed to have a conversation with jude about what just happened but you'd do it tomorrow, when he was sober and when your judgement wouldn't be clouded by anger.
thankfully, your uber didn't take too long to arrive, you helped jude put his seatbelt on after watching him struggle with it for a good minute. the atmosphere was tense and it seemed the driver felt it so he didn't try to make conversation with any of you.
you were halfway to your destination when you felt jude's fingers brush against yours lightly. you took a glance at where your hand lay, on the middle seat, jude's hand was right next to yours and when you looked at him he was suddenly entranced by his shoes, busy pretending it never happened.
you were sick of him acting like a child, so you held his hand, since he obviously wouldn't do it himself. the rest of the drive was silent but the atmosphere was peaceful, a nice change from the club.
you let go of jude's hand once you arrived at the villa you rented with your group of friends. you immediately took jude to the bathroom to clean his cut, he looked like a child while you were gathering the material you needed, mumbling words to himself with a frown on his face.
"is it gonna hurt?"
"probably not." these were the first words you exchanged since the club, the uneasy atmosphere of the room wasn't one you were used to whenever you were with jude. he was the one person who could understand you the best in the world, but it just wasn't the case tonight.
"can you hold my hand?" it was like he turned four again. but you couldn't deny anything from him, especially not when his eyes were glassy from all the drinks he had, so you took jude's hand in yours.
you started cleaning the cut, fully focused on your task, trying your best not to be distracted by the way your faces were inches from each other's.
"you're so pretty..."
if there was one thing you knew about drunk jude, it was that had loose lips. he couldn't keep any secret from you whenever he had the right amount of alcohol in his veins, and that often worked in your favour, but right now his words were only distracting you from your job.
"don't say that..." your heart was racing both at his words and at the proximity you two shared.
"i mean it." he was tracing your jaw with his fingers. you felt your hand quiver at the unexpected contact, and afraid you might mess something up because of jude, you quickly put a bandage on top of his, now clean, cut.
you started tidying up everything you used and expected jude to go to his room but he didn't budge.
"what's wrong?" you were a bit worried his injury was more serious than you thought and his brain was just working a bit slower than usual.
"kiss it better... please?" he said pointing at his bandage with a kissy face.
you were torn between kissing or slapping some sense into the boy standing in front of you. jude bent down so your face was in front of his, you obliged because you knew hammered jude would not have let you go to bed before you kissed him better. not because you wanted to, of course.
he was still unmoved, looking deep into your eyes so you took his hand in yours and led him to his bedroom for him to get a good night of sleep.
once you got jude to his bedroom safely, which wasn't an easy task given how starstruck he was at every little everyday thing in the house, he threw himself on his bed and grumbled something about clothes, before taking off his shirt with no prior notice. you immediately looked at your feet to give him some privacy while he changed clothes. he only giggled at your action saying he knows how much you would like to watch undress. which wasn't true, of course.
you took a quick peek, to make sure he was under his sheets. handing him a glass of water once he had his sheets pulled up to his chin and a content look on his face.
"no thanks, i'm not hungry."
"this is a glass of water?" you were perplexed at jude's words. the fatigue of your body preventing you from trying to understand his nonsense.
"well, i'm not hungry for water." you sighed at his childlike behaviour and considered shoving the water down his throat at some point before retracting, not really wanting to deal with the homicide of one the most in-demand football players of the moment.
you placed the glass on his bedside table and walked towards the door, unwilling to talk to a very drunk jude when all your body asked for was a good night of sleep.
but you couldn't ignore jude calling your name in a tired voice. you turned around to listen to whatever he had to say to you, only for him to beckon you closer with his hand. you rolled your eyes but still obliged, sitting on the unoccupied side of his bed.
"i just wanted to know why you were mad at me tonight." you didn't want to have this conversation tonight, but it seemed jude had other plans.
"because even if your intention was right, i think we could've solved the issue with no fits of screaming and fighting. i know you meant right but you can't just act without thinking all the time." you weren't even sure jude was registering your words properly, his eyes moving up and down your face.
"but i was mad at him too, he kept talking to my girl as if i wasn't right there." although jude was hardly convincing by the way the words came out of his mouth all slurred, you had to admit him calling you his girl put a faint smile on your face.
you thought your best friend was done but he just kept right on.
"fuck, you don't even know how many times i wished i was your boyfriend to stop these men looking at you that way. i mean i wished i was your boyfriend all the time, but especially then and also when you show me whoever you're talking to, you really have a vile taste in men y'know."
you looked at jude in total shock, he wasn't aware of what he just said from the way his face had the same drunken expression as before.
"do you mean it?" maybe he was pulling a prank on you. the look on his face didn't seem too serious, but then again he was drunk, how could you know how serious he was?
he laughed, how could he laugh in what was a very serious situation from your point of view?
"of course i mean it, sometimes it even looks like you want me too, maybe i just thought wrong. just tell me you don't want me, i reckon i could live with the fact i'm your best friend a bit longer." jude's nonsense somehow got even more nonsensical. how could he be saying all this with a smile on his face? even worse, how could he possibly think you didn't want him to be your boyfriend? you didn't even know what to say to him. hell, was there even a right thing to say in this exact situation?
"you can't do this to me jude... you can't just say this shit to me when you're drunk out of your mind. what do you expect me to say? i don't even know if you're aware of what you're telling me right now." words finally found their way out, your voice was much less cheery and much angrier than his as you felt a sense of injustice seeping through your veins. how could he say this to you like it was the simplest thing in the world? did he only love you when he was drunk? did he actually mean that, or was he over-exaggerating things under the influence?
"i love you and i loved you for a long time, please believe me, i know you're my best friend, and i don't want to ruin things between us... but i just needed to get this off my chest." jude was truly confused as to why you were so mad at him for this sudden 'confession'. of course, you didn't have to reciprocate his feelings, but he could only think about how he ruined your friendship for good from the way you responded so vehemently.
"goodnight jude." you left his room before he could add anything, and your thoughts were already running wild. you weren't sure if you should be feeling happy that he felt for you what you felt for him, or if you should be mad at jude for dropping this bomb on you so suddenly when he could clearly not think straight, making you doubt about the whole thing.
if you were overthinking before, your brain was now about to explode from everything that just happened in the span of an hour.
once you got under your sheets, no amount of sheep counting, lofi music, or breathing methods could put you to sleep. your brain was screaming at you, urging you to freak out about what just happened. every and each of your thoughts led back to jude, your own brain was torturing you, forcing you to separate truth from fiction at 3am.
you wished jude told you the truth, you wished his drunken words were his sober thoughts. but you didn't know how you were supposed to act like this never happened if this wasn't the case. how could you possibly come back to your little role, so well perfected over the years, of jude's best friend after he gave you the smallest glimpse of hope? your friendship with jude was the most important thing for you, but you wondered if you'd be able to pretend for the rest of your life or if you would go insane before that.
when sleep finally started taking over your endless train of thought, you came to the conclusion that if he meant what he said earlier, he'd have no issues telling you once he sobered up. you comforted yourself with this idea while your eyes closed by themselves, no more energy left in them to fight for the sake of overthinking.
jude had been avoiding you all day. the only time you exchanged an eye contact was during breakfast and even then he quickly went back to his room, not speaking a word to you. you could tell he was avoiding you like the plague, if he happened to be where you were he'd immediately flee the room, suddenly mesmerized by his phone.
you wished you were mad at him for how he was treating you and how he was making you feel, but the truth is, you could only focus on your heart breaking a little more each time he'd walk past you like you were two strangers.
after dining with the rest of your friends, you decided you were sick of jude's little games. if he didn't want to talk to you, then you would confront him whether he liked it or not.
it took you all the strength of the world to knock on his door after taking a deep breath.
no answer.
there was no way he knew it was you, you were sure of it. maybe he was just avoiding everyone tonight? you quickly refuted this idea, you saw him laugh with a couple of your friends half an hour ago.
you knocked again, a bit harsher this time to make sure he'd hear it. still nothing. you were preparing yourself to knock one more time, with much less hope than the first time.
"y/n, what are you doing?" yasmeen's voice startled you, it almost felt like getting caught doing something you shouldn't be doing.
"um... just needed to talk to jude, do you know where he is?" you couldn't help but feel embarrassed at the question. you were his best friend, if anyone should know where he was, that would be you. and your friend's dumbfounded look wasn't helping the heat creeping on your face right now.
"what do you mean? he left like an hour ago, had an unexpected meeting in london or something like that... he didn't tell you?"
it had been a very long time since you felt this way, maybe since middle school when your math teacher made fun of you in front of the whole class. your mouth suddenly drying, the sensation of your heart constricting, and your eyes stinging, trying their best not to let the sadness spill. it all felt like one big joke, you hoped jude would open the door, he'd tell you he was messing with you, he'd tell you everything he said last night again.
but that moment did not come. you couldn't answer yasmeen, afraid that the truth might spill along with your tears if you uttered a word. you simply shook your head, and went to your room, trying your best not to meet her eyes. your friends weren't blind, they could tell something was wrong between jude and you today, although none of them asked you what happened, they just kept a watchful eye on you and the way you looked at jude, in hopes he'd look back.
it felt good to cry in the privacy of your own room, far from the speculative conversation others were most likely having about the whole situation.
once your eyes were short of tears, you somehow found the strength to take your phone and click on your messages with jude to type a new one.
let's just keep doing what you did all day
i'll pretend you don't exist and last night never happened
probably best for us :)
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brodieland · 1 month
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☆°•*⁀➷Exes SUCK !!´ˎ˗
Percy Jackson x fem!reader Synopsis: When reader found out her loser ex cheated on her, she always has her best friend to step up ! Word Count: 1018
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Every night at camp half-blood, there's a campfire at 9pm where all the campers come together while the Apollo kids lead a bunch of sing-a-longs. You normally loved these, but tonight wasn't your night. About a week ago, you and your shitty ex had broken up when you found out he was cheating with some Aphrodite kid. Sure it hurt being cheated on but after months of being treated the way you were, you were just glad to finally get rid of him.
As glad as you were, now you were just kind of lonely, his toxicity drove away your friends. Even your best friend, Percy. Now, you were sitting alone by the campfire as the rest of the campers were staggering back to their cabins. While you were enjoying the warmth of the fire, you notice a familiar figure coming to take a seat next to you.
"Hey Y/N"
"Hey Percy"
Neither of you looked at each other for a few moments, still staring the fire. The silence was unbearable, you felt terrible about what happened. You never wanted to push him away, you thought you were being loved when you were just being used. Growing up as a demigod sucks when your mortal parent doesn't care for you because you are just so different from the rest of your family, constantly ignoring you hoping you would go away. Plus of course none of the gods ever really pay attention to their kids. All that gave you issues, you never felt enough. So when your ex first came into your life making you feel wanted, you jumped at it not realizing that that wasn't love.
"So.. I've heard about you and.. you know who" Percy never liked him from the start. You really wish you listened to him.
"Yeah, he who shall not be named" you chuckled as Percy turned and smiled. "I wish I listened to you about him, would've saved me so much time you know."
"Hate to say I told you so but, I told you so" he said as you jokingly glared at him.
"Haha. But really, I'm sorry for everything that happened" you said.
"You don't have to apologize" he looked at you sincerely.
"No, I do. I pushed you away all for a jerk who didn't deserve my time, and you didn't deserve that" you turned to him with a look of sadness on your face. You hated that you did that to him.
He turns to face you and grabs your cheeks making your foreheads touch to make extreme eye contact. "Y/N, it's okay, you don't have to say sorry again. You know I can't stay mad at you anyways." As you guys separated, a wash of relief floods your face as you feel your shoulders drop with satisfaction.
"I'm glad." Percy lets go of your cheeks and faces back to the camp fire. You take the opportunity and slide closer next to him, now shoulder to shoulder. You continue to lean in and he takes the chance to slide his arms over your shoulders, happy with himself when he sees that you didn't pull away, but snuggled closer. You guys were always very close together like this before you were forced to separate from him. At the end of the day, no one blames your ex for being jealous of Percy. You guys stay there for a view moments enjoying the toasty fire when you decide to finally speak up.
"I missed you, like, a lot" you whispered loud enough for the both of you to hear.
"I missed you, too Y/N" as Percy said that he held you tighter.
"You know the phrase 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'," you rambled "..yeah." You didn't know how to continue that thought out loud, it sounded less cheesy in your head but you meant what you said. Whatever it was that you said. If you were being honest with yourself, you wish it was Percy who first showed interest in you instead of.. the other guy.. but you fear it may be too late for that. While you were deep in thought, Percy was just giggling at your failed sentence.
"You sound like you have a little crush on mee" Percy dragged out the last word. Weirdly enough, he wasn't wrong, but that was also how you guys also joked. So you never thought he was serious when he said this stuff.
"Why do you think I got forced to distance from youu" you matched Percy by dragging out the last word.
"Wait, what" Percy questioned, looking down at you and you turned up and looked at him through your lashes. Percy always thought you were beautiful, so you getting a shitty boyfriend sucked for him, but he tried to push through for you. Then when he forced you and Percy to stop talking, that hurt, but he could never hate you.
"I guess it was pretty obvious how much I like you, even to my own boyfriend. Funny isn't it. I thought since you didn't like me back it was time to try moving on, it didn't work out though" you got quiet as you finished your sentence. Then Percy stared at you wide eyed with with mouth gaped open.
"Is it too soon to finally kiss you" Percy said, grateful he didn't stammer his sentence out of nerves. That's when you quickly sat up, grabbed his face and slammed it on yours. It was amazing, between the tension that was constantly building up mixed with the relaxing sound of the crackling fire behind you, it was perfect. You guys were moving together in rhythm before you pulled apart remembering your need for air. As you guys were panting for air you looked at each other and smiled, then you spoke up.
"Why was I wasting my time before" you joked.
"Your decisions making skills were never the best, that's why I'm here for you, always" Percy kissed your forehead as you both began to stand up and walk hand in hand back to your cabins.
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hees-mine · 9 months
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𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 - 𝐋. 𝐡𝐬
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Pairing: heeseung ⚥ female reader
Synopsis: After accidentally getting distracted with the game on his boys' night out, heeseung returns to an angry you scolding him for being so careless. He takes in every word that you say, but he can barely focus cause your lips look so inviting, and after getting you to calm down a bit, he apologizes to you in the best way.
Warnings: established relationship, unprotected sex, small argument, make up sex, mentions of drunk driving and alcohol, cursing, cock warming, implied round two, fluff.
Genre: 18+, smut, minors do not interact!
WC: 3k
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The clock had just struck midnight, and you were beyond tired, but you were up patiently waiting for your boyfriend to arrive so you could both sleep together cause you could never sleep peacefully unless he was in your shared bed and right by your side.
You knew he was going out with his friends to hang out, and usually, he’d always be back by ten, except tonight he wasn’t.
Another thing he also wasn’t doing was answering your calls or text. You begin to overthink, wondering if something bad happened before you got too worried. You call his friend Jake.
“Hey, y/n, what’s up?” He answered after the first three rings. Amazing how his friend could pick up, but he couldn’t.
“Hey Jake, is heeseung with you?” You said, a slight hint of worry in your tone as you nervously picked at your nails.
“N-no, he actually just l-left like not even five minutes ago,” Jake said, slurring his words, and you could hear him hiccup over the phone, which meant they were probably drinking more than likely.
“Okay,” you sighed. “Thanks, Jake” You ended the call before he could respond, but you were too upset to even care. You were happy that heeseung was alright, but you were upset at the fact that he thought it was okay to be out this late and not tell you his whereabouts, and if you found out that he had been drinking and was driving home, you weren’t going to let him hear the end of it.
You were pacing back and forth nervously, awaiting his arrival. You ran over to the window when you heard his car pull into the driveway about fifteen minutes later.
Finally, your heart was put to ease when you saw him walking up to the house. You stood in front of the door, unlocking it for him. He twisted the knob and opened the door only to be greeted with a bear hug by you. “Hey,” he said and chuckled softly while engulfing your figure and waddling inside the house, closing the door behind him.
“Hi,” you mumbled back into his broad chest. “I missed you. I was so worried about you” You rubbed his back up and down soothingly.
“Sorry baby, I guess we got a little too into the game and forgot what time it was,” he apologized sincerely.
“So that’s why you couldn’t answer my calls or texts?” You pulled away from the hug to look at him with a sad pout on your face.
“Shit baby, I’m sorry, I must not have heard it past the tv. I’m sorry so my love,” he pecked your little pout. “Were you waiting this whole time for me?” You nodded your head a little. “Aww, I feel so bad,” he whined.
He leaned in to give you a proper kiss, and you immediately tasted the alcohol he had been drinking prior. “Babe…” you said slowly and pushed him back by his shoulders a little, causing him to look at you with worry because you never refused his kisses. “Have you been drinking?” You asked, already feeling the anger building up inside of you.
“Yes, but it-“ he was going to tell you he only had one drink, but before he could, you were already chewing his head off.
“Why would you do that!? Do you know how dangerous it is to drink and drive? You could have gotten into an accident,” you yelled at him.
“Baby, it’s okay” he walked towards you, trying to give you a hug and tell you that he wasn’t that reckless to drink and drive, especially when he had you in his life. He’d never do something that dumb and jeopardize his health and well-being.
“No, heeseung, it’s not okay. You could have gotten hurt! I can’t believe you’d do something so reckless” You raised your voice higher, not intentionally, but you just needed him to know the severity of his actions. “What if something bad happened? I’d just be sitting here home alone, not knowing where you are” Despite you yelling in his face, he couldn’t help but think about how cute you looked and how sweet it was that you cared so much for him.
He drowned out all your ramblings and stepped closer to you. “Are you done?” He says softly while cupping your face with his large palms.
“No, I’m not done. I just can’t believe you’d be so-“
He smiled and leaned in, giving your perfect lips a kiss. He could barely even pay attention to anything you were saying cause your lips looked too good not to kiss, and he hated to admit it, but your little rant was kinda riling him up.
He pulled away slowly and looked into your eyes. “What were you saying now?” He asked, the smile never leaving his lips for a second while he stroked your cheeks.
“What are you doing? Heeseung, this is serious-“You didn’t even get to finish before he was leaning in to kiss you again.
“On second thought, never mind” he pulled you closer to his body and pressed his lips against yours once more.
The kiss quickly became needy, and he forced his tongue past your lips, finally getting a taste of your warmth. He hummed into the kiss as he lowered his hands to your bottom, giving it a gentle squeeze.
You had already lost your train of thought when he started caressing your body. Your head felt like it was spinning, and your body started to heat up with need the longer he touched you.
As much as you wanted to protest and continue lecturing him about the dangers of drinking and driving, you just couldn’t bring yourself to pull away from his lips cause you had been missing him all day.
He got even more handsy with you and slotted his leg between yours, rubbing himself on your thigh as he moaned into the kiss.
You whimper from the intensity of the make out feeling your knees become weak when you feel his hardened bulge grinding against your thigh. “Let’s go to the bedroom,” he whispers against your lips.
Without protesting, you followed him to the bedroom. He stripped his shirt off and got on top of you once you lay down in the bed.
Your hands immediately started caressing every inch of his warm skin as he leaned down and resumed the kiss from earlier.
He kissed down your jaw until he met your pulse point and began licking just beneath your earlobe, tickling you and adding even more pleasure with the wet sensation of his warm tongue skimming delicately against your neck. “Baby let me apologize properly, yeah?” He skimmed his fingers past your waistline, tugging on the band of your shorts. “Let me show you just how sorry I am” he lowered himself onto the bed dipping his fingers inside your shorts and panties, pulling both of them down at the same time. His breath got caught in his throat when he saw the thick string of arousal coming from your hole and sticking to your panties.
Your body shivered in need when his hungry gaze lingered on your throbbing core a little too long. “Heeseung, please,” you whisper.
He got the hint immediately and pulled your clothing around your ankles, dropping it next to the bed.
His hands kneaded the flesh of your beautiful thighs as he kissed the inner of each one of them. He inhaled your scent, and he swears just your smell could make him cum in his pants.
As soon as you felt him kiss your pubic bone, you moaned his name, already anticipating what was to come. “You must have really missed me” he smirked and stuck out his tongue, flattening it against your entrance, licking your hole, and collecting the sweet nectar that flowed out of your precious body.
“I always miss you,” you say with your eyes closed, trying to steady out your uneven breath while gripping onto the sheets for dear life cause every lick and swirl of his hot tongue was making you go crazy.
“I miss you too, baby” his warm breath fanning between your legs made goosebumps form all over your damp skin. “So much” You spread your legs open wider, giving him access to insert a finger in you.
You bit your lip, stopping a moan from escaping as he explored your insides with his finger. Another one soon followed, and you couldn’t help but squeeze around his digits as they stretched you open and prepared you to take his thick cock later.
He groaned when he felt your sweet little pussy gripping tightly on his fingers. He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking on it gently while rubbing your warm wet walls with the pads of his soft fingers.
“Feels so good” You ran your fingers through his hair as he ate you out.
The lewd wet sounds of him sucking and slurping your folds made the scene ten times hotter, and embarrassingly enough, you weren’t that far off from your orgasm.
You wrapped your legs around him, walls clenching his fingers as he flicked your clit with the tip of his skillful tongue. “Come on, baby, I can feel that you’re close,” he mumbled against your heat. The tickling sensation from his deep voice vibrating on your clit made you grip his hair as your body started to get hot and tingly, a sign that you were only seconds away.
“I’m cumming,” you announced and arched your back off of the bed while your orgasm hit you in waves of pleasure. “Fuck heeseung!” You cried out, legs trembling as you released all over his tongue. He kept pumping your hole with his fingers guiding you through your bliss until the overwhelming pleasure started to dissipate.
“That’s it, baby,” he moaned into your entrance lapping up the wetness that leaked out of your clenching hole.
He gripped your thighs tightly as you bucked your hips up and unintentionally rode his face, his nose brushing against your clit while he cleaned up all your juices, sucking your pussy lips until there was nothing left but the remnants of his saliva.
He kissed each of your hip bones as he slowed the pace of his digits and slowly pulled them out of you, licking all the way past his knuckles so nothing was wasted. “You forgive me?” He asked and kissed your pubic bone slipping his hands under your shirt, and it was no surprise you weren’t wearing a bra. You never wore one before bed.
He cupped the soft plushy flesh with his large veiny hands massaging your tits while he placed kisses on your bare stomach.
You hummed as you came down from your state of bliss. “Not quite yet,” you smiled playfully.
He kissed your tummy one last time and propped his hands beside your head. “Greedy” He scrunched his nose and smiled before pecking your lips.
“Only for you,” you winked at him before he got off the bed momentarily to take his clothes off. You giggle, watching him nearly trip as he impatiently kicked off his jeans and rid himself of his boxers.
You took the liberty of stripping your shirt off, revealing your fully naked body to him, and he had to take a moment just to stop and stare while you did the same, taking in his beauty. “You’re so beautiful,” he said once he returned to the bed and hovered above you.
“You’re not so bad yourself” You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss.
You tangled your hands in his soft hair, massaging his scalp while he whimpered into the kiss.
You moaned when you felt him twitching between your legs, and the feeling of being empty was becoming too much for you to handle. “I need you so bad, hee,” you whisper.
“Need you too, baby,” he sighed against your lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist. He aligned himself perfectly with your entrance, slowly pushing past your tight walls.
You dug your nails into his wide back little pink marks forming on his delicate skin as you did so.
Once his length was fully sheathed inside your heat, he rested his face in the crook of your neck, panting heavily as he revels in the feeling of you.
He started to buck his hips, finally giving you both what you’ve been longing for the whole while he was out.
“Hee,” you breathed out and gently bit his shoulder when you felt how well he was filling you up with his long cock.
“I’m right there, baby,” he whispers, hooking his arms underneath your shoulders and lowering his weight onto you whilst rolling his hips just the right way to hit that spot deep within you.
He kissed the shell of your ear and leaned back so he could see you come undone right before his eyes.
“Don’t s-stop,” you breathed out.
He rested his forehead against yours, kissing the bridge of your nose. “Don’t plan to,” he whispers as he speeds up his thrusts, quiet clapping noises filling up the silence of your bedroom each time he bottoms out.
Your mouth was parted in pleasure, heavy gasps falling from your parched lips every few seconds.
His eyebrows were creased together as he felt your sweet walls fluttering around his girth. “Hmm, baby,” he moaned, watching as your face morphed in pleasure. “I’m almost there,” he swallowed thickly.
“Me too, hee” Your nipples hardened, feeling his sweaty chest pressed against your body. His heart rate matched yours as you both got closer and closer.
“I love you so much” he stroked a few loose strands of hair out of your face adoring your beauty as you were seconds away from getting lost in one another.
“I love you too,” you both share smiles as he leans down, capturing your lips for a kiss as the throbbing between your bodies intensifies, and you both finally reach the end cumming together.
You moaned into each other's mouths, the sounds of pleasure getting swallowed as you messily kissed and sealed your love for each other.
You convulsed tightly around his length, coaxing out multiple warm spurts of cum from him as he filled you up with his release throbbing deep inside you.
Loud uneven breaths were the only sound in your bedroom as you both got lost in pleasure, hugging each other tightly as your orgasms took over.
He kissed you like his life depended on it. Your toes curled into the mattress as his strokes came to a gradual halt.
You both parted for air, and you stared at each other for a few seconds before giggling and engaging in another laughed filled make out session.
He rested his head beside yours, giving the both of you a moment to catch your breaths.
You gently rubbed his back while he peppered little pecks all over you. “Are you still mad at me?” he looks at you, showing you his puppy-like eyes.
“I was never mad, baby. I was just worried, that’s all,” you assure him and wrap him up in your arms.
“I’m such a lucky man to have you in my life,” he chuckles, remembering how worried you looked when he got home. “You should have seen your face, baby. You looked so scared.”
“Babe,” you whined. “It’s not funny.”
“I know. I swear I’m not laughing at you. It’s just I love how much you worry about me cause it means you care, and that makes me happy and giggly,” he smiles while clarifying what he meant.
You shied away from his gaze a little cause his words were making you blush. “Of course I care,” you muttered.
“I swear I won’t stay out that late ever again, and I’ll check my phone often, okay? And by the way, I only had one drink, baby. I’d never do something stupid like that and make you worry” he stroked your cheek with his thumb. “You forgive me?” He asked with a tiny pout on his lips.
He looked so cute while explaining his little side of the story. “of course I forgive you,” you cupped his cheeks and kissed him.
“Thank you, love,” he said cutely and hugged you squeezing your smaller frame in his strong arms. “Might I add you look super sexy when you’re all worked up I could barely even focus cause you were getting me excited”
“Babe!” You hid your face in his chest from embarrassment.
“What!? It’s true.” He said casually. “Now that I think about it, I’m getting in the mood all over again,” he says with a mischievous grin. “What do you say to a round two?” He says while intertwining his hands with yours.
You thought about it. He was gone all morning, and you did miss him a lot, so. “Now that you mention it, you have been gone all day and…” you said, drawing out the word as you trailed your index finger down his chest.
“And?” He said while trying to hide his smile. He had a good feeling about your next words.
“And come to think of it, I don’t think the first apology was quite enough,” you say flirtatiously.
“Oh really?” He cocked an eyebrow, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Then I guess I’ll have to apologize extra hard to earn my baby’s forgiveness, maybe even till the sun comes up,” he chuckles while pulling the sheets over your bodies. You both break out into a fit of laughter as you clumsily kiss each other.
At first, you were worried about him being out till morning, but once he assured you that he was taking all the necessary safety precautions, you couldn’t be mad at him and if every night ended like this when he hung out with his friends well let’s just say you wouldn’t mind him coming home a little late.
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First post here please be nice to me 😅 if you liked it I’d highly appreciate notes and reblogs.
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henneseyhoe · 3 months
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Still Mine.
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Tyrone x BLACK!FEM!Reader
WARNINGS: Tyrone being a slut, baby daddy drama, smutty flashback, slight daddy kink, unprotected sex(wrap it before you smack it!), abortion mentioned, pill mentioned, baby trapping, short, tad bit unedited.
SUMMARY: During Tyrone’s weekly pickup of his daughter, he tries to make his baby mama fold.
Ps. This was originally SO much longer but I didn’t like the way some parts were written so I cut it in half lolzzz
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“You know if I licked it, it’s mine, right?”
Your face twisted into a mug at Tyrone’s words while packing a diaper bag with all the necessary things your daughter needed for the weekend with him.
“Tyrone, please don’t start with that tonight” You couldn’t believe the extents he’d go just because you were seeing other people, it was crazy! Tyrone didn’t see it that way though.
The man was a tyrant. A danger to society and other men when he suspects you fucking with somebody who wasn’t him. Every single time he found out, he would let you know that you had limited days with that nigga, which he was always right about.
They’d either disappear completely or simply just stop responding to your texts.
One time you saw one of them at the grocery store and tried to say hi but he ran the other way, even left his cart stacked with groceries. You wondered what the hell was going on, and why they were so scared, but you knew there was only one person that could have them running for the hills like that, and it wasn’t you.
“I’m not startin’ shit, I’m speakin’ facts. You playin’, knowing them niggas ain’t shit compared to me”
Though the statement was true, it was bold of him to assume you wasn’t getting any good play. It was rare you did, but still! It’s the audacity.
You look at Tyrone up and down before bursting into laughter, making the infant besides you both slightly jump in her pack and play, looking around in confusion before flipping over on her stomach, a skill she just learned.
“Oop- I’m sorry, mama” You apologize to her, the baby just rolling back over and blinking up at you with a tether in her mouth. “Now, back to yo’ delusional ass!”
You thanked god the small child wasn’t old enough to understand words because she would have been cursing like a sailor by now. Pointing at Tyrone with the acrylic nails he paid for, that same signature mean look on his face that he always wore when somebody had him fucked up, you squint.
“Ain’t shit yours, and it hasn’t been yours since about a year now”
Tyrone sucks his teeth, still not believing anything you were saying to him.
“You shittin’ me, it’s always gon be mine!”
“Says who?! You crazy” You blow him off with the wave of your hand, zipping the diaper bag up and handing it to him.
He grabs it, then drops it to his feet without a care, crossing his arms. You look at him with a confused expression, your eyebrow cocked upwards.
“Why you like playin’ wit’ me?” He questioned while straight faced, but you stood your ground, unlike when you use to submit under him and his tone when you two were together. Truthfully, you use to be a bit scared of the nigga. He never gave you a reason to be personally, but he was a hard shell to crack, you rarely knew if he was happy or sad until he said something to steer you in a certain direction.
“Tyrone, quit playing and find you something safe to do, aight?” You fired back, challenging him. He moved not one inch. You knew he wasn’t scared of you at all, so this was no surprise, but you wasn’t gonna take him treating you like this in your own damn house.
“How many niggas you fucked since we broke up, Y/N?”
You shrug. “However many I wanted. I dunno, I wasn’t counting”
“Okay” He nods slowly, putting you on edge just a tad bit. You hum and study his reaction. He only did that when he had some shit up his sleeve. A simple answer, then a nod before he did or said some fuck shit. “And if I find them niggas and suddenly they stop callin’, then what?” Nothing he hasn’t done before.
“One less problem for me. You already pack up enough niggas in the glen anyway. Can’t kill ‘em all!” You giggle childishly after gaining your composure again, but as you found humor, the man stayed oh so serious.
“Oh, you’d be surprised at what a nigga can do now”
“Lemme guess, you learned to read a no loitering sign? Or maybe a no trespassing one?” You continued to joke, him finding nothing funny, as usual.
“You think you so funny” He warns, but you brush him off again, picking the diaper bag up and handing it to him again, this time forcing it in his hands to keep it there.
“I’m fuckin’ hilarious, nigga. better ask bout me”
Tyrone rolls his eyes.
“…so you really tellin’ me youn miss me?”
You turn and walk away to ignore the man further, side eyeing him as he followed. “Get out my face, Ty”
“Stop playin…so youn miss how I use to beat that pussy till you cry?” He spoke, getting closer to your ear so you could hear every syllable there. See, if this was a year and some change ago, you would have folded yourself in on a couch and put your legs to the sky faster than a pin could drop, but you had a point to prove.
You inched away from him to your kitchen, but he followed behind like a hungry shark that smelled blood.
“Let daddy dig that pussy out again, baby. You know I do it better than any other nigga”
Just with those few words, it had you thinking of flashbacks, your eyes fighting off a roll inwards. You knew the power he held in those boxers, you knew all too well what he was capable of. When Tyrone got to the pussy, he made sure he wasn’t playing no games. The man would even pull your bed from the wall everytime he came over so nobody in your moms house could hear how hard he was beating it up, talking dirty to you like you was a random bitch from the club, and that was your favorite part. That’s how you got into this mess anyway. Stuck with him and a tiny human who stole your face.
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Tyrone was definitely a man of threats, but he had never fallen through with any of the non-violent ones till this.
As Tyrone bucked his hips wildly into you, your leg began to quiver in his hold. You had thanked the gods that he had opted to lay you down on your side instead of fucking you standing up like he loved to do. You were sure your legs would have gave out by now if you were upright.
“Imma nut in this pussy, baby. Can daddy nut in this pussy? You want daddy to get you pregnant?”
He asks, and you nodded gladly like a dummy. Whatever the female version of pussy whipped was, you were definitely long past it. Even in that moment, you thought he wasn’t serious about the whole baby thing. He had never talked about one outside of sex, and you honestly thought he was against the entire idea of kids with the way he’d run junebug out of his presence when he’d do normal kid shit. He just didn’t seem serious.
Hell, you knew you weren’t serious about it. What would you do with a baby in this economy? Most importantly, how the fuck were you gonna care for it? You were only 21 and he was 24, had no business being together, but obviously he wasn’t the type to follow rules of any kind, or let you go.
The more he promised to get you pregnant, the harder y’all fucked until you were on top, riding him like there was a prize at the finish line you called an orgasm. Your hands were placed on his thighs behind you and your back was arched in as you spread your legs wide and bounced that ass on him, giving him the perfect opportunity to see himself slip in and out of you.
“Shit…shit! I’m bout to cum!” He shouts while panting, a few groans exiting his mouth.
“Fuuuck! I’m bout to nut, bae!” You heard him announce once again, but that wasn’t what set off alarms in your head, it was when he held you down and continued thrusting upwards into your wetness, making you leak. You whimper and shout, toes curling into the mattress.
“Shit! Lemme get up, Ty!” You tap his hands, trying to get them off of your hips so you could move, but he continues to bounce you with his fingers gripping you tightly, bound to leave a mark. “Tyrone! lemme get up, please!” You shout with urgency, but it had already been too late. By the time you rose up off of his dick, he had been pumping out the last bit of his seed, the small amount just sliding down the shaft of his dick. That’s when you knew you fucked up. Tyrone was a shooter in more ways than one, but when it came to cumming, he was damn near like a loaded gun. You’d have to squeeze your eyes shut when giving him head because he liked to cum on your face, and the first time he did, he almost blinded you with how far he came, literally.
“My god…” You breathed harshly, looking down at his dick begin to soften.
When it was all said and done, you asked him for money for a plan B, but lo and behold, he already had a pill prepared. Right in the glove compartment of his car is where he kept it and gave it to you when he came to see you the next day. But, as the weeks went by, you started to feel like that pill wasn’t much of a plan B, or at least not your “plan B”. It was definitely Tyrone’s though.
Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and nine of those later, you were popping out a little girl with a full head of hair and features just like yours. If you told somebody you made the baby alone, they’d probably believe you with how much you two looked alike. You were pissed off your entire pregnancy at Tyrone, but that didn’t stop you from loving your baby, you just couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of her either, though the process wasn’t foreign to you. If the “plan B” didn’t take her out, then who says she wasn’t meant to be here? But, with that being said, as you came closer to your due date, you grew farther from Tyrone while he was trying to keep you close, you even moved out of the glen and into a whole ‘nother town over.
He was there through your entire pregnancy, or at least tried when you weren’t trying to kill him for getting into stupid shit and almost dying, but because he was still so supportive and caring for you, checking up on how both you and the baby were doing, you cut him some slack, letting him name the bouncing baby girl. He went with the name ‘Autum’ because you two met in autumn, to your surprise he even remembered that since it had been so long ago.
Fast forward five months later, y’all were still beefing on and off over stupid shit. You would curse him out over scaring away new friends and or lovers, he’d ignore it and continue, working extra hard to make sure all them niggas knew who he was. Oh, Tyrone was on a mission, and he would not be ignored by some lame nigga you wanted to fuck, or ignored by you.
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risingoftime · 4 months
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AGAINST ALL ODDS | CORIOLANUS SNOW X PLINTH!READER | CHAPTER THREE
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TW - descriptions of death (Sejanus) & hanging/strangulation, night terrors.
Sejanus' trembling body materialized before you upon the wooden platform amidst the grim presence of the hanging tree. His once robust body now appeared frail and bruised, bearing the unmistakable marks of beatings, and starvation seemed to have drained the vitality from his once vibrant frame. He stood, a testament to the hellish spectacle the Capitolites had subjected him to be. Sejanus struggled to hold back tears; his voice desperately cried your name, yet no sound would escape his arid lips. An invisible force rooted you to the spot, rendering your limbs motionless despite your earnest efforts to break free from this immobilizing grip to reach Sejanus. 
The peacekeepers marched steadily past you, and a chilling lull descended, punctuated by the haunting sight of Sejanus standing at the precipice of his fate. They tightened and adjusted the noose around his vulnerable neck with methodical precision. Fear etched deep into his widened eyes, the anticipation of what awaited him palpable. The weight of the moment bore down upon you, beads of sweat tracing a trail along the nape of your neck as a surge of nausea threatened to release. The harsh finality of the situation washed over your being.
Sejanus resignedly mouthed a sorrowful apology, his wordless cry cutting through the heavy air. And then, an irreversible shift transpired with breathtaking swiftness. The ground beneath him gave way, dissolving into oblivion, the sickening sound of his neck snapping searing into your consciousness, an unshakeable echo of his death.
Your eyes snapped open to see Tigris pinning your arms onto the mattress. Blinking against the dim sunlight, you managed to stammer, "Tigris? Why are you in my room?" your voice came out hoarse.
The worry in her eyes was unmistakable. She loosened her hold on you slowly until she let go of your arms completely, her hands slightly trembling.
"Your screams... I heard them from downstairs," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was bringing your dress in, and I feared...I was scared something terrible had happened to you." She paused, swallowing hard. "Then, I found you... sleeping, but your body thrashing in the sheets as if you were trying to escape something. Are you okay? Has this happened before?"
She sat down on the edge of the bed, her silhouette outlined by the soft glow of the sunlight peering in from your window. It made Tigris's blonde hair look like a halo on her head. However, her gaze didn't waver from you, the anxiety written plainly on her face, promising not to leave until she was sure you were safe. Seeing Tigris in this state made you sad. You didn't mean to let anyone else see you like this. 
"Just a nightmare, that's all. It used to happen every night since-" Cutting yourself off, It was difficult to say his name, not after what you had just seen. "I only get like this when I'm stressed." Tigris still didn't appear convinced by your response. Your nightgown stuck to your skin from the sheen of sweat on your body. You couldn't imagine how horrible you looked and felt in front of Tigris. Suddenly, painfully aware of yourself, you pulled the sheets above you as an act of modesty. 
"Where's Ma?" you asked. 
"She stepped out to run last-minute errands for the event tonight. She called me to help you get ready and, well, you know the rest." You half-expected Tigris to leave, respecting your privacy. But she pressed on. "I used to have dreams like yours when my parents died during the rebellion. It took me a while to cope with their death. I still struggle sometimes. You can talk to me, you know? You're my family too now." 
With a comforting pat on your thigh, Tigris rose from the bed. "I'll give you some space to freshen up. Meet me downstairs whenever you're ready." Her words stayed with you as the bedroom door closed with a faint thud, plunging you back into reality.
Today is your birthday, the day of your wedding shower— another reminder of your upcoming marriage to Coriolanus. The date was impending faster than you had hoped, and there was no sign of it stopping. Young marriages weren't uncommon in Panem post-war, but you had naively hoped for more time before earning the title of someone's wife. More time, much like you had wished for Sejanus. His life was taken from him at eighteen, the same age you were now. That's when it struck you: Sejanus won't see you off to get married, nor would he be there to watch over your kids and be the fun uncle you know he would be. 
You silently wept in bed, overcome by grief. This day was meant to be filled with happiness; it was anything else but that. You felt shame, aggressively wiping away the tears that poured from your eyes like a waterfall. You knew wallowing in bed would solve nothing. Yet, facing the world with red, swollen eyes filled you with dread. It would be an unspoken confession of your struggles, a silent admission of your turmoil. And you couldn’t have that. Ma would need you to keep it together. She’s already lost one of her children. 
Mustering your remaining energy, you got ready and adorned yourself with makeup before descending the stairs to join Tigris. In front of you, an awe-inspiring dark crimson red dress adorned a mannequin. The tulle gown exuded a celestial aura like the night sky had woven into every stitch. Handcrafted with meticulous attention to detail, shimmering pearls embellished the fabric, creating a mesmerizing constellation effect. The dress's form-fitting bodice gracefully accentuated the mannequin's curves before cascading outwards from the waist. Its sheer beauty left you speechless, your mouth agape in disbelief.
Turning to Tigris, you asked, "Did you make this?" Tigris smiled widely and nodded. 
"I hope that you like it. The pearls are handsewn and thoroughly placed to sparkle with your every move." Tigris says. "Come and hurry and put it on! I can't wait to see it on my muse." Tigris didn't show any distress cues from earlier or fawn over your every move. She offered a place of comfort as you stripped down to your undergarments and stepped into the gown. It fit like a glove, which was impressive, considering Tigris hadn't taken your measurements. Her eye for detail is astounding. The corset of the dress pushed your breasts up, giving the impression that you had more cleavage and a smaller waist.  As you gazed at your reflection, a gasp escaped your lips in awe of the masterpiece Tigris had created. "If I were to die in this dress, I would die a happy woman," you whispered. The sight of you was truly intoxicating, and in this dress, you felt a sense of confidence and accomplishment immersed around you. The person who stood before the mirror embodied a timeless beauty. You could envision yourself as someone suitable to be seen on the arm of Coriolanus Snow, the young man rumoured to be the next ruler of the Capitol. Without another thought, you brought Tigris into a hug. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She held you closer with her warm embrace. An excited shriek pulled you apart to find Ma with Coriolanus. 
"Oh gosh! My beautiful baby girl is all grown up."
Coriolanus exhaled in surprise at your appearance. His eyes trailed from your face down to the heels that you wore. It was one of the rare times that Coriolanus was genuinely speechless. Tigris cleared her throat, “So… what do you think?” Coriolanus finally pulled himself out of his entrapped daze and faked a cough to hide his lust-filled expression. But it was too late. You have already seen it.
"You look beautiful." Coriolanus wore a suit in a similar shade to your dress. Tigris must've tailored his outfit to cater to yours. “Tigris, You've outdone yourself,” he said.  From the outside eye, you were well suited for each other and made a good-looking couple. It would be easy to fall into the fantasy you have been presented with. Yet it didn’t change that it was all a fallacy; Coriolanus had only agreed to marry you for the money. It was damn easy to forget all of this when Coriolanus flashed you his dazzling smile and wrapped his arm around yours to escort you out of the penthouse to your wedding shower and birthday party.
Coriolanus whispered to your ear, “And before I forget, Happy Birthday.”
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The event was hosted in an extravagant lounge. There were rows and rows of velvet red sectionals and opulent jade banquettes. The lighting around the room was soft and illuminated the lush plants and countless influential figures of Panem that filled the space. Your name and Coriolanus’s were etched on a banner for all guests to view. Your parents had invited almost everyone that you’ve known. The Dolittle family socialized with Dr. Volumnia Gaul over a glass of champagne. While Eris Dankworth and her family kept to themselves, overseeing and judging the festivities that took place. Some of the University and Academy professors were in attendance as well. President Ravinstill could be seen at the far corner, seated at a private table with his wife. He was the man who'd granted our departure from the Districts when your father sided with the President by providing munitions to the Capitol. The President wore his prewar military uniform like a badge of honour. The gall of it all made you feel unsettled. 
You observed Coriolanus closely, gripped by his ability to captivate everyone around him with his calm demeanour and impeccable manners. Whenever he engaged in conversation, his eyes would light up as if each person he spoke to had just said the wittiest remark he had ever heard. It was awe-inspiring to witness. A part of you was taken aback. This side of him was rarely revealed in your presence. The Coriolanus you grew to know had disappeared. This one was fun-loving and easygoing. It was a version of him that made you reconsider if he was all bad, like you initially thought. 
"Must I say Coriolanus, you've snagged yourself quite the catch? Miss Plinth appears to be Sejanus's better half." Dr. Volumnia Gaul smiled much too widely after her comment. She had a sneaky habit of appearing when she was least anticipated. It made whatever she had to say sound ingenuine and cunning. Your spine stiffened at the mention of Sejanus from his former professor. Coriolanus rubbed small circles on your lower back, a meek attempt to distract you. He returned Dr. Gaul's smile. Before you could devise your retort, Coriolanus replied, "Thank you, it'll be an honour to call her my wife." He looked upon you with a glint in his eye, something that you hadn't noticed before, admiration or possession? It was hard to decipher. His gaze travelled down to your exposed breasts, and the desire on Coriolanus's face made you feel feverish. Undeniably, a new side of Coriolanus was in front of you. 
"Fate is a funny thing, isn't it Coriolanus? The Plinth family lost a son, to soon gain another." She smirked as if she knew something you didn't, "I'm curious to see how this union will be fair in the future. Best wishes to the both of you." And with that, she departed to refill her glass of champagne. Coriolanus kept his hand around your waist. His hold on you was unshakeable, and his face turned straight. 
"Are you alright? What was that all about?" You asked. 
"Nothing, Dr. Gaul is quite peculiar in how she expresses herself." His glare didn't wander from her figure as she walked through the crowd of guests. 
"So I've heard, Sejanus would talk about her briefly after class and in his letters." 
"Letters?" Coriolanus faced you incredulously. The thought of Sejanus sending his younger sister letters during his time in District 12 hadn't crossed his mind. 
Suddenly, the lights were cut, and the crowd gasped in shock. In the distance, you could see Ma and your father holding a cake with eighteen lit candles making their way to the booth you sat at. Everyone erupted in song, singing You Happy Birthday and began to gather around. 
"Make a wish, Honey," Ma said. Your father flagged down the hired photographers with box-like cameras that appeared chunky and heavy to the eye. Flashing lights surrounded you as they fired shots at your every move until the last candle was blown out. You could see Romulus standing beside his brother with a big grin. The similarities were uncanny. He shook a blue velour box and mouthed, "I got you a present." Eris Dankworth stood not too far behind them and watched the moment unravel. 
“How about a kiss from the soon-to-be newlyweds?” Eris yelled out with a sickening sneer on her lips. She couldn’t help herself. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” she began the chant amongst the guests. Anyone would think she did it all in good faith and fun. But you knew. It was a reminder of the conversation that took place in front of the Academy. 
With all eyes on you, there was little option but to comply. It would be odd not to. 
“Well, Mr. Snow,” you shyly peeked up through your wispy lashes, and Coriolanus stood tall, towering over you with his height. "Let's give them a run for their money." He softly nestled your face in his hands, his touch both consoling and electrifying. You sensed a slight tremor in his hands from anticipation. As his plush lips met yours, the kiss began tentatively, as if you were exploring unknown territory. Coriolanus pulled you in closer, pressing your bodies together until there was no space between you. Not knowing where to place your arms, you instinctively wrapped them around his neck, cultivating deeper access and connection. An unfamiliar warmth spread throughout your body, igniting a desire you hadn't experienced before. Nerves fluttered in your stomach. This was your first kiss. Your first kiss is with Coriolanus Snow, and damn was it a good kiss. It was unclear who moved away first, but looking at your Ma, you could see her with clutched pearls. 
Coriolanus chuckled silently beside you, "Wow, I didn't think you had it in you, Miss Plinth. You're just full of surprises." Your elbow connected with his ribs, although this didn't stop him from laughing. Amid your embarrassment that your parents had seen you practically make out with your fiancee, you excused yourself to go to the powder room. If you found Eris alone, you would surely give her a piece of your mind. You were navigating through the crowd with mindless “thank you’s,” and the half-assed hugs were beginning to get on your last nerve. You just needed a quiet moment to yourself. Someone followed behind and caught your hand as you freed yourself through the exit doors to the restrooms. 
“Hey, I’ve been trying to get you alone all evening. It's like chasing a rabbit in a hay field,” Romulus said, slightly panting like he’d just run a marathon. He appeared strikingly handsome in his tailored midnight blue suit, a perfect complement to his dark hair and captivating features.
“Haven’t you heard? It’s unbefitting of a lady to be seen alone with a man who isn’t to be her husband, especially with the wedding date around the corner,” you said.
“Oh, please don’t tell me you’re letting Dankworth get to you,” Romulus wrinkled his nose when he uttered her name as if he smelled something horrid. “Besides, I like you better when you're defiant. It keeps things interesting in this dull place.”  
You rolled your eyes at his statement. Of course, he did. That was before. When you could afford to do whatever you pleased and live your day as your own. "What do you want, Rome?" you asked. He didn't track you down to chat. 
"Geez, did that kiss get your panties in a twist too?" Romulus snickered. You shoved him and snorted at his mortifying question. Romulus always knew how to make you laugh. 
"Oh God, please shut up! What was I supposed to do?" 
"I don't know, give the guy a peck, maybe?" Romulus's smile widened at your reaction, and he rummaged through his pocket to pull out the blue velour jewelry box from earlier. "Besides, if you didn't run out of there so quickly, I wouldn't be able to give this to you." He placed the present in your hands gently, like a delicate flower. 
"Rome, you didn't have to get me a gift-" 
"I know, but I wanted to. Open it." He nodded towards the box, motioning you to untie the bow that was wrapped around it. 
Inside held a beautiful gold locket necklace that looked like it had cost a fortune. Intricate swirl patterns were engraved into the locket, with hearts nestled beside each other. When you opened it, your favourite picture of you and Sejanus was inside. Romulus had taken the photo of the two of you that day in the sun. You wore a childlike grin in the photograph while Sejanus slung his arm over your shoulder, sporting a crooked smile. His pure essence is captured eternally, frozen in time just for you. This was the Sejanus that you remembered. Your eyes welled up with tears, and your throat became tight, making expressing your overwhelming gratitude to Romulus nearly impossible.
Romulus knew this and seemed prepared. He offered you his handkerchief. "Would you like me to help you put it on?" he asked. You nodded, as words still escaped you while you dabbed the corner of your eyes, careful not to smudge your makeup. Romulus lifted the necklace, and it glinted in the light. Turning your back, he clasped the locket around your neck, which lay flat between your collarbones. A piece of Sejanus will always be near. 
"I think this is one of the best gifts I've ever received." you sniffled. 
"Even better than the horse your father bought you as a kid?" Of course, Romulus would try to crack a joke. 
"Even better." You took Romulus into your arms, holding him close and snugly, "thank you, Rome."
"Romulus, we need to stop meeting like this!" Coriolanus exclaimed with no humour behind the mirth in his voice. Peering over Romulus's shoulder, you could see him close the doors to the lounge behind him.
"Meeting like what?" Romulus asked. 
"With you, all over my fiancee." Coriolanus scowled at Romulus, tracking his every move with his glare. 
"He wasn't-" 
"I wasn't all over her, Coriolanus, don't be dramatic. I was merely giving her a birthday gift, and I didn't know that was a crime." Romulus raised both his hands in mockery as if he would be arrested. Your heartbeat began to pick up in pace. Little did Romulus know the severity of consequences that might lay ahead of him for taunting Coriolanus, even more so now that Coriolanus had seen Romulus holding you in his arms not too long after kissing him.
Coriolanus hid his malicious intent almost too well, "I know a couple of people who would beg to differ." There was a hidden meaning behind his choice of words. "I simply just came out to let my fiancee know that her parents are looking for her to make a toast before the guests begin to leave." Coriolanus turned to face you, making direct contact with the heart-shaped locket that embellished your chest. It made you feel naked under his scrutiny. 
"Yes, I'll be right there to join you soon. I want to say goodbye to Romulus. He was just leaving." 
Romulus caught on quickly about what you were hinting at and agreed, "Yes, I was. The only reason I came was to drop off her gift." He gestured towards the box in your hands and smirked. 
"Safe travels," Coriolanus muttered under his breath and turned to enter the lounge, but not before calling over his shoulder, "Please be quick. I'd hate to keep your parents waiting." 
When Coriolanus was out of sight, you hit Romulus upside his head. "Idiot! Why do you keep trying to get a rise out of him?" Romulus knew better. Coriolanus was not the type to engage in direct conflict. He would skillfully maneuver himself like a serpent, slithering to strike his opponents from behind when they least expect it. 
"You can't possibly believe that he'll make good on his threat." As suspected, Romulus didn't take it seriously when you told him about what Coriolanus said to you if he were to touch you. It would help if you had been wiser and not caught up in the moment. Getting caught up with Rome was a stupid mistake. 
"I don't know. But I'd rather not find out now. All I can do is hope that Coriolanus was bluffing." 
“The idea of you marrying him doesn't sit right with me. What do you even like about Coriolanus anyways?” Romulus sounded frustrated and perplexed, his hazel eyes filled with concern. 
Like was a strong word. You tolerated Coriolanus when needed. Still, the only things that you observed of him were from afar and through your brother until now.  
Sejanus was quite the optimist when he was ready. Coriolanus had always shown indifference towards us, the Plinths. He did not agree with my classmates' taunting but did not wholly disagree. Remaining neutral meant nothing to you, especially if said boy was Sejanus’s friend. What type of friend was he? An opportunist? Yes, for sure. But Coriolanus did not show much proof of friendship other than the tattered photograph he kept of them during the games and the letters Sejanus had written about Coriolanus to you. If you hadn't known any better, you would've called it a naive school crush that Sejanus had. Pa always chose to pay no heed to what displeased him, and Sejanus publicly grieving his childhood first love, Marcus, was undoubtedly one of them. 
Yet, you couldn't deny the chemistry you shared during the kiss. There was the possibility of growing to be fond of Coriolanus. This was likely at a different rate than your relationship was going. 
"I don't have to like Coriolanus," you sighed. 
"Well, you at least have to if you're going to spend the rest of your life with him," Romulus argued. 
"Rome, please, I don’t want to talk about this, not on my birthday." Your head began to pound from the onset of stress that returned to your body. One night, that's all you wanted. Romulus could see the tension rise within you and apologized. 
“I’m sorry; I didn't intend to damper the mood. Enjoy the rest of your night, and we’ll talk tomorrow.” Romulus surprised you by planting a small kiss on your forehead and departing shortly after. To see him leave so soon left a pit in your stomach. It was an unpleasant feeling. The more pressing concern was still present: would Romulus survive the wrath of Coriolanus?
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That question kept you up at night. The rest of the party was a success, although Coriolanus was in quite a sour mood for the rest of the event until we were escorted home. He'd returned to his usual self, only uttering a sentence in your direction if needed. After finding you in Romulus's arms, you partially expected him to be more brash towards you. It unsettled you when he was silent. 
Ringing from your landline telephone alarmed you. The only person likely to call you this late would be Romulus. There had to be something wrong. 
"Hello?" 
"You're awake." The voice sounded surprised that you had answered the phone.
"Coriolanus, why are you calling so late?" 
"Come let me in. I'm coming to your door." His words lightly slurred together.
"Corio-" you raised your voice in protest, but the line dropped. The flippant guy hung up on you. 
You rushed down the stairs in your silk robe as quietly as possible until you heard knocking at your front door. When you opened the door, revealing a dishevelled Coriolanus, his blazer was discarded and still in the dress shirt he wore to the wedding shower with a few extra buttons loose. "Shut up, will you! You're going to wake up my parents. Hurry and come in." He stumbled past you to sprawl out on the couch, faintly smelling of white liquor. Thank God the Avoxes weren't live-in help. 
"Have you been drinking?" you asked. 
Coriolanus pinched his thumb and pointer finger close together in response to your question. 
"Be honest, would marrying me be that bad?" Coriolanus's tone was soft and gentle. He looked tense and a bit unsure of himself. Even in this state, he looked handsome; it bothered you that Coriolanus didn't even seem aware of it. 
"I don't know," you answered honestly. "I can't imagine sharing a life with someone I don't love, regardless of their last name. I always thought I would fall in love with someone like Ma and my father. They grew up on the same street and started dating in their early teens. And I would raise a family and grow old enough to tell my grandkids stories of how I had loved and lost and met my greatest love of all, their grandfather." It was a small dream that wouldn't come true in this lifetime. 
"I can love you," Coriolanus retorted.
"You're drunk." You sat in front of him on the carpet. 
"So? I know I can love you better than Romulus. That guy couldn't wait to get his dirty little hands on you, and of all things, he got you a locket in the shape of a heart on the day of our wedding shower. I should strangle him with my bare hands, and I would do it again to any man who dares to lay a finger on you and what's mine." Coriolanus stumbled through his sentences, and if it weren’t for the last comment, you would've thought it was cute.
"Not this again. Are you jealous of Romulus? He's a friend, and it was a thoughtful gift, hardly romantic." 
"He's one of your only friends, and he makes you smile. You don't even laugh when you're around me. I should be the one that you want to lean on. I'm the one who will be your husband, not him." Coriolanus ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. 
"You sound like a child. I'll get you a glass of water," getting up from the floor to walk to the kitchen, Coriolanus took your hand in his to stop you. 
"Wait, don't leave. Let me prove it to you: I want to take you on a date." 
That earned laughter from you; it burst out of you and was hard to contain. “That’s hilarious coming from you, Snow.” But Coriolanus didn’t laugh, and his face became sober.  
Coriolanus expressed his sincerest intentions, “I’m serious. It’s still your birthday weekend. I’ll take you out to properly celebrate. I know tonight wasn’t ideal.”
You raised your eyebrows, still skeptical of him, questioning, “Why? So you could handle your vendetta?”
Unfazed by your disbelief, Coriolanus grinned, "No, it would be for you." His words lingered in the air. You were baffled and intrigued.
The room was momentarily silent, giving you time to process his response. You couldn't help but wonder what he meant by it. Was there a deeper meaning behind his words? Although you searched for clarity, you were eager for Coriolanus to continue, hoping his inebriated self would go into more detail. Yet, his face turned paler than usual, and his blue eyes met yours with focus. 
“I’ll take that glass of water now. I think I might be sick.”
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tragedybunny · 4 months
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omg your requests are open? If you're okay with some angst but a sweet ending, can I please request Astarion overhearing the others trying to warn you about Astarion? Like, telling the reader (female please) that he doesn't actually care or like her and she just looks sad and says "I know, but I'm stupid and care about him" and he just gets upset and wants to prove that he does like her? Sorry if this is dumb, haha
Hi Anon, My usual apologies for the wait. I wanted to do a different spin on this because I always find it a little jarring that Astarion confesses to you and then is so prickly about killing the Orthon to get information from Raphael. I always wondered if it occurred to him he was being kind of a jerk about it. So this scene plays out in the second act.
This Is Me - Astarion x F!Reader
Astarion lurked at the outskirts of camp, unable to bring himself to come face you. After everything he'd told you, after those moments of hope, he'd failed, himself and you. The Orthon, he’d been less than gracious about getting around to killing the devil. And after, gods, why did he talk to you like that? Because the scars on his back felt like they burned, and his mind had screamed at him since you'd said they were infernal. Even though he knew you'd been upset, you'd only turned away, saying that it was probably wise to rest before pursuing Thorm’s relic further. 
You all had made a makeshift camp in the heart of Shar’s sanctuary, where not even Shadowheart seemed wholly at ease. And he’d hidden like a coward until now, when he’d finally been able to push himself to come find you. Creeping back to camp, he’d been silent, trying to figure out where you were without running into any of the others, he couldn’t take whatever disdain he’d find in their eyes either. 
He’d made it close to your shared tent when the sound of Shadowheart’s voice had frozen him where he stood. “I’m not saying he’s not sincere, I’m just saying, we all know Astarion by now. He looks out for himself first.” 
“I understand where you’re coming from,” even if you didn’t sound convinced, the fact that you even had to say those words was enough for him to feel like his unbeating heart was shattering behind his rib cage. 
“She has a point Soldier, I like Fangs well enough, but you know how he can be. Just be careful with yourself,” Karlach added. Did they all believe he only thought about himself? 
“We just don’t want to see you get hurt.” Of course, Gale had to add to it. 
“I know you’re all concerned, and I know how he can be, but I care about Astarion.” He didn’t need to hear anymore. No one had managed to spot him, so he slipped into your shared tent and tried not to fall apart. 
Everyone in this damned camp wanted to warn you away from him, and the worst part was that they weren’t wrong. How long had it taken him to behave like an arse to you? He did care though, that wasn’t a lie or a scheme. Where you’d accepted it before on just his word, it felt he’d have to prove it now, since he’d gone and messed everything up.  He just didn’t know how.
Huddled on the floor of the tent, he pulled his knees up to his chest, and frantically thought.
Sex was out of the question, even if he could bring himself to do it, you’d see through it in a heartbeat. What else did he have? A lot of pretty words and burdens, which you already shouldered. He glanced around the tent at his scattered, sparse belongings, noting you hadn’t even had time to unpack yet. Maybe that was the answer. 
If there was more said about him, he hadn’t heard, intentionally blocking out whatever other sounds he heard. He assumed there was dinner, at some point, nothing for him to miss there. You appeared in the entrance to the tent far sooner than he had expected though, and caught him still packing things in his bag. “So that’s it, you’re just going to up and leave? And here I was getting worried you’d been gone so long tonight.” Your voice was deadly calm and he couldn't tell if you were sad or furious. 
Closing his eyes, he centers himself, trying not to get lost in the maelstrom inside his own mind. Standing, he looked you in the eyes, pained to find unshed tears sparkling there, but this was for the best. “I’m going to face Cazador, and whatever he’s done to me, alone.”
“W-what? Is this because of the Orthon?” The words fade into a stunned whisper, you don’t understand what he’s trying to do. Desperately, he gropes for your hand, to comfort you, to explain to you, but you pull away. “You’ll just abandon me because I didn’t kill it quick enough?’
“Love, no! I just need to do this on my own. To show you.” The words run out and he clenches and unclenches his hands frustratedly. 
“By the gods, show me what?” 
“That I’m not using you. That I do care about you for more than what you can do for me. I’ll go to Baldur’s Gate and when I’m done I’ll wait for you.” 
With it all said, Astarion waits in the silence for your response. He waits far longer than he thought he would. Really, he’d thought you’d embrace the idea after everything he’d overheard. “Astarion,” you begin sweetly, and you have his rapt attention, “are you out of your fucking mind?” You grasp his shoulders and clench them tightly, fingers digging in, emphasizing your words. 
“I…of course not!” He tries half-heartedly to pull out of your grip, but you don’t seem keen to let him go. “But you don’t trust me any more so what,” his voice cracks unpleasantly and you release his shoulders, arm wrapping around his chest, “what else can I do.” 
Instinctively, he returns your embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. “You heard all that, didn’t you? I’m so sorry, I just didn’t want them to worry about it anymore.” 
“What if they're right? I'm not sure that I can think about anyone else first until this is done, and I fear I’m going to hurt you.” He doesn't look up from where he's pressed against your skin, not wanting to see if you agree. 
“I knew that Astarion, it was obvious from the start.” You let go and push away, putting space between the two of you as your hand comes to cup his cheek and hold his gaze on yours. “We'll deal with this together, just like I promised.” 
You plant a small kiss on his cheek and he almost sobs, pulling you back into a fierce hug. “You…”
“Silly girl?” You finish with a small laugh.
“Incredibly sweet and wonderful girl.”
“Now you're just trying to flatter me.” He can hear the relief in your voice. “Unpack, please. I’m exhausted and your bag is in the middle of our tent.”
“I don’t have a choice, do I?” There really is no fighting you once you’ve made up your mind, and he doesn’t really want to go anymore. 
“Absolutely not, silly boy.” The kiss you give him is soft and warm enough that it chases away his lingering doubts, for tonight at least. 
Tag List:
@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21 @tallymonster @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly @elora-the-slutty-songstress @astariongf
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bruciemilf · 11 months
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I headcanon that Bruce, specifically Battinson, cries real easily.
Not only when he's sad; It's actually then when he doesn't cry at all. He cries when he's angry, when he's overstimulated, when he's dissapointed, when scolded and feels like he just let someone down.
Everyone in his life, friends, enemies, and something grey, know this about him. It never bleeds into the Batman, thought.
But it's a well known, universal fact, that every Gothamite knows as divine truth: Bruce Wayne is a crybaby.
Naturally, He cries when happy and proud, too.
Dick learns that when he's 10, and brings back a huge canvas he borrowed (stole) from art class.
The assignment was to illustrate what made them happy. He picked Bruce.
Imagine his surprise when his foster father bursts into tears, gives him a big wet kiss on the cheek, and dashes to his cave, " DON'T LOOK AT ME!"
"...Does he do that a lot?"
Alfred, who didn't even bat an eye, " Only all the time."
Jason learns that when he's 12, holding his favorite copy of Pride and Prejudice, which is DOG EARED. This is a hardback cover, damn it!
" B! How could you! Don't you know better? Are you gonna paint over the Mona Lisa, too?!Seriously,--"
Abruptly, he stops at the first drops of water. Bruce is avoiding his eyes, broad shoulders slouched down, hands fidgeting by his sides. Expression pinched and pained. "...Forgive me."
"Okay," Why does HIS voice sound wrecked and brittle? " I'm gonna go in the time-out corner. And I won't eat any sweets tonight."
" But you love sweets... "
"No sweets! Don't make me. I'll go to sleep with no TV either."
But what really gets to people? Bruce cries when he's embarassed.
"I gotta say, B, " Clark humming, seemingly ignorant to a rather concerning wound. A faint kryptonite nausea still persists, but nothing he can't avoid. " You really saved my behind out there. Good job."
It's obvious Bruce has a doctor's hands; His hands glide stitches confidently, without nervousness, without pause. Healing. That's what Bruce was, at his core.
Still, his heart beats wildly. "...I'm glad you're okay."
Clark, for one, Is delighted. "Are those emotions? Positive ones? Are we having a moment?"
" I did an adequate job. It was nothing special."
" Oh, that's bullshit. Come on, you were amazing! Did you see the guy's face when you blocked the bullet with your batarang? Breathtaking."
"Superman. Enough."
" No, -- listen. 20 guys get their hands on kryptonite and knock me out in 10 minutes. You had them beat in FIVE. Bruce, you were wonderful, --"
He stops immediately when a velvet voice cracks, " Clark,"
He worries that maybe he pushed too much. Forced his way instead of being welcomed. An apology is hot and ready on his lips.
But.
But that cowl only hides so much. That soft, dusty red flushes down to Bruce's chest. Pink skin glows red, shiny with tears, and skilled hands shake.
Clark's heart roars. He's so, so fond of this man.
" Oh, Bruce. Oh, baby."
He can't stop smiling as he listens to Bruce whining in his neck.
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soursturniolo · 5 months
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Anger and Apologies
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Pairing - Chris Sturniolo/Reader
Summary - After a bad day, Chris snaps at you. Later, he tries to fix it.
Tags/CW - Chris being a dick for a minute, then being a bit clueless, reader sad and crying, Nick and Matt being good bros but also caring about the reader
Requested? - yes! hope you like it anon 🖤
Chris had been in a bad mood all day. He didn’t sleep well, his breakfast upset his stomach, he didn’t eat lunch, his dinner had been made wrong and was cold at the restaurant you all went to, he had a headache, and was just feeling not good. He didn’t really feel like being around people, but had made plans with you and his brothers and didn’t want to back out. So, here he was, in the living room with all of you.
You had picked up on this, as Chris wasn’t the best at hiding his emotions. You had checked in quietly a couple times with him, to which he just said he was fine with a tight smile. But you wanted to see one of those real, 1000 watt smiles of his. Smiles always make everyone feel better. So you tried to crack some jokes, which made his brothers cackle, but barely got a smirk out of chris. You didn’t give up though.
You then went the route of showing him some funny tiktoks, but soon that proved to be a bad idea. On the third TikTok you showed him, he snapped at you loudly, grabbing the attention of his brothers who had been engrossed in their own conversation.
“God, can you just shut up and leave me alone?! You’re so fucking annoying! I’m not in the mood to watch stupid ass tiktoks.” He yelled as he got up from the couch, walking off to his room and slamming the door, leaving you shocked. Your face flushed with shame and embarrassment as tears welled in your eyes. He never yelled at you before, and all you were trying to do was to make him feel better. While you sat there embarrassed and surprised, nick jumped up and walked briskly after him, hollering that he couldn’t just speak to you like that. However, he was met with Chris slamming his bedroom door in his face and the subtle click of the lock.
You swallowed the lump in your throat as you pocketed your phone and stood up, wiping your now clammy hands on your pants and looking down, not meeting Matt’s concerned gaze that you could feel on you.
“I, um-“ you clear your throat, “I think I’m gonna go home. I’m sorry,” you pause, sniffling a bit before you swallow again and roughly wipe away the stubborn tears that you wish would stop, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset him, I was just-“
Matt can’t stand to hear your unnecessary apology shaking his head and standing with you.
“Hey, it’s okay. He was out of line, you did nothing wrong here,” matt tells you softly, before checking his phone, “it’s 2 am, it’s pretty late. You could stay if you’d want? You can stay in my room, I’ll sleep out here? Or I can drive you home?” He offers.
“No I’ll just drive myself home, I drove here so,” you say again, still sniffling.
Matt frowns at your response, looking worried and not relieved like you thought he’d be. Why wouldn’t he want you to just go? It would probably save him some awkwardness in the house tonight?
“I’d feel better if you stayed or let me drive you. You’re upset, and it’s not good to drive when you’re emotional especially when you can avoid it. You’re not just Chris’s girlfriend, you’re our friend and I wouldn’t be a good friend if I let you out into what could be a dangerous situation,” he explains, softly.
“Okay. Can you take me home, please?” You ask and he gives you a small smile and nods.
“Yeah I can,” he says grabbing his keys off the stand and walking you out to his car.
You got into the passenger side and were immediately hit with a big whiff of Chris’s cologne since this was the seat he normally sat in. The smell normally comforted you but instead just made you even more sad. You felt tears well up again as you began to cry openly now, making matt turn to you with a sad and concerned look from the drivers seat after starting the car.
“I’m sorry,” he tells you, rubbing your shoulder comfortingly.
After hearing the car start up out front, Nick came running out the front door, surprising you when he opened one of the rear doors and jumped in.
“Whats going on?” Nick asks, slightly out of breath from running out to you both.
“She wanted to go home, but I don’t want her driving while she’s so upset so I’m going to drive her,” Matt explains, and you nod, wiping away tears.
“Babe, I’m so sorry about Chris. He was way out of line and took his shitty mood out on you, which isn’t okay,” Nick tells you, looking remorseful.
“It’s okay,” you say softly, voice quiet.
“It’s really not,” Matt tells you.
“You guys don’t have to take my side in this, I was annoying him and he’s your brother and I don’t want to cause a fight or make things hard,” you explain to them, not wanting to cause problems. The two brothers quickly shake their heads.
“We’re not taking sides. Yes, Chris is our brother, we love him unconditionally and always will, but that doesn’t mean we just ignore when he’s a dick. We can love him, but still hold him accountable and care about how he treats you,” Nick explains, the voice of reason.
“Yeah, you’re important to us, too” Matt says in agreement.
You smile tearfully at the two men with you, you heart feeling a bit better than it did a minute ago. Chris had your heart, but his two brothers were also incredibly important to you, and it did feel better to know they weren’t about to just drop you or turn their back on you when you and Chris weren’t seeing eye to eye.
“Thank you guys,” you say to them, your tears coming to a stop.
They both give you small smiles and you all buckle up before Matt pulls out of the driveway to drive you home to your apartment.
Matt dropped you off and made his way back to their house. Upon arriving home, both brothers went in with the intention of having a serious conversation with their youngest brother, but decided against it when they found him in a deep sleep in his bed.
The night passed quickly and quietly. Chris awoke to rays of sunlight peaking through his blinds. He let out a sigh as he stretched, feeling good and well rested, before rolling over on his side and patting the surface of the bed, searching. His eyebrows furrowed together as he found just cold sheets, and no you. He opened his eyes, blinking a few times as he realized he was alone. Figuring you were up with his brothers already, he made his way into the kitchen, to only find Matt and Nick, both greeting him silently with serious looks on their faces.
“Where is she?” Chris asked confused, looking around expecting you to come out from somewhere.
“She went home last night,” Nick said blandly.
Chris’s jaw came open. You had left? He knew he had snapped at you, but he really didn’t think it was that big of a deal. So, he raised his voice a bit? It happens. He had expected to just go to his room to cool off for a bit last night, but fell asleep waiting for you to join him. He had assumed you’d come to his room eventually, not that you’d just leave?
“Why?” Chris found himself asking.
“You really don’t know?” Matt asked with a scoff and shake of his head in disapproval.
Chris returned a scoff and shrugged.
“So I got irritated and raised my voice a bit,” he said with an awkward laugh. At this both his brothers shook their heads in disagreement.
“You didn’t just ‘raise it a bit’, bro. You yelled at her like you yell at us sometimes. You told her to shut up, called her annoying, called the tiktoks she was trying to make you cheer up with stupid, and then stormed away,” Matt said, voice colored with his disapproval.
“Not just that, but you yelled at her like that in front of us. Not only did you completely disrespect her and treat her like shit when all she wanted to do was make you smile a bit, you embarrassed her, Chris.” Nick said sadly. He was disappointed with his youngest brother, but also saddened that you had been treated that way, by this brother of all people.
Chris swallowed dryly. To be honest, he hadn’t remembered exactly what he said to you. He knew he had been rude, but didn’t know he had went to that extreme, or that his brothers had even noticed. He was just at the end of his rope last night, but he knew that was no excuse.
“Did she make it home alright?” Chris asked quietly, feeling shame and embarrassment, similar to how he now knew you probably felt due to him last night.
“Yeah, I drove her back and made sure she got in safe,” Matt answers as he takes a sip of his water.
“Why did you drive her? Is her car okay?” Chris asked, making matt roll his eyes.
“Her car is fine, dumbass. She was crying and upset and I didn’t want her on the road like that,” Matt explains.
“She was crying?” Chris asks quietly, a lump forming in his own throat.
“Yeah, she was.” Nick says, leaving it at that.
Chris’s hands come up to his hair, pushing it all back nervously. He’d really fucked up. Not only was he mean, he actually had really yelled at you, embarrassed you, and made you cry to the point his brothers had to get you home because you were so upset. And he had been unaware, asleep in his room, not affected until this morning. He swallowed dryly, looking up to his brothers to see their sad gazes on him. They both felt bad for Chris. They knew he could be a good boyfriend. He was always great with you, so kind and sweet. Last night was an outlier in his track record of behavior regarding you.
“She’s getting an Uber here to get her car. She’ll be here in 5 minutes. I wasn’t supposed to tell you but you need to fix this. She’s too good to let go, Chris,” Nick tells him softly.
Chris feels some hope bubble up in his chest. As he turns to make his way to the front door, Matt calls out to him.
“Hey, but before you go out and fix this, just know, if you ever treat her like that again, I’ll kick your ass man. Love you, but I’ll kick your ass,” Matt tells him, laughing but his voice holding a serious edge to it. Nick nods in agreement.
Chris smiles despite the threat and nods.
“If I ever do some stupid shit like this again, that’s fine,” he tells them simply before rushing out to the front door.
As he walked up to wait by your car, your Uber pulled up. You sighed to yourself seeing Chris out front waiting for you, but honestly weren’t surprised. Nick always liked to try to fix things when he could, so it wasn’t a shock to know he had told Chris you were coming.
You got out of the Uber, thanking the driver before gently shutting their car door and waving as they drove away. Chris frowned as he took in your appearance. You were in sweats and an old sweatshirt of his you had from him borrowed long ago. It was one he knew you to wear when he couldn’t be there and you were sad, because you told him once it felt like a hug from him when you couldn’t get one yet. It hurt him to know he was the reason you had put it on. Your eyes were red rimmed and a pit puffy still from crying, making his heart ache. He’d never made you cry before, and to still see the after effects meant he had really made you cry.
“I’m just grabbing my car, is all,” you say softly and timidly, fiddling with the keys in your hand and looking down.
Chris frowns at your timid demeanor, but knows it’s his own fault.
“Can we talk?” He asks you softly
You look up and meet his eyes reluctantly, nodding and nervously biting your lip.
“Yeah,” you answer.
“Baby, I’m really sorry about last night. I wasn’t feeling good but that’s no excuse. I was a complete dick and mean to you and you didn’t deserve that,” Chris says, voice full of remorse and regret.
You frown and look down, playing nervously with your keys again.
“It’s okay, I should’ve left you alone when I realized you weren’t feeling good,” you say softly, but Chris shakes his head, not liking that you’re letting this go so easily when it’s clear to him that he really hurt you.
“It’s not okay. You were just trying to help me. I love you for that, always. I was an ass. That’s on me and me only. You’re never annoying, the tiktoks weren’t stupid, and I should have never told you to shut up. I’m really sorry, and I hope you can forgive me. It’ll never happen again, I promise you.”
A small smile graces your lips at the words from Chris. You could tell he was being genuine and truly felt horrible for how he had acted and treated you, and you had no doubt that he would do better and this wouldn’t happen again. Chris was always a man of his word, and meant what he said.
“I forgive you, just next time try to just talk to me. There’s no need to yell or storm off. We can just talk.” You explain, setting a boundary. Chris nods in agreement and holds his arms out to you, giving an opening for a hug. You walk up to him, wrapping your arms snugly around his waist, pressing your head against his chest. Chris wraps his arms around you tightly in return, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You stand in the driveway holding each other for a few moments before pulling back. Chris takes your hand in his softly and leads you up the drive and into their house. From the couch, you see Nick and Matt peak their heads up, looking at both of you and smiling when they see your calm expressions and hands held together.
“Everything okay, love birds?” Nick asks. You both nod and hug again.
“Gross.” Matt jokes, but smiles all the same.
You all laugh, happy and carefree.
“What do you want to do today?” Chris asks you as you walk further into the living room. You turn and look up at him.
“Could we lay in bed and cuddle? I didn’t sleep the best last night…” you voice trails off again, cheeks flushing at the admittance. Last night was full of tears and tossing and turning for you.
Chris’s face softens again and he tugs you to him, wrapping you up in his warm embrace again.
“Of course, baby, I’m so sorry. Let’s go to bed,” he whispers, kissing your head and letting you lead the way to his room.
You both get into his bed and under the covers quickly, and immediately you find yourself wrapped up in his embrace. Your head rested on his chest, his arms holding you around your waist as he tangled your legs together. You let out a soft and content sigh as you snuggled in, making Chris chuckle quietly.
“Go to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up,” he says. You lean up to kiss his lips softly, both of you smiling into the kiss. You pull back and snuggle back down in his embrace, being lulled to sleep by a tune Chris was humming to you as he played with the ends of your hair.
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teyamsatan · 11 months
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This one is a bit smutty...Just a little lol. But !
Okay ! Imagine Neteyam being passed the title as the new olo'eyktan (Just to say that I have no idea when it is done. Like at a certain age or if mate is preg ? I don't know :P)
Him being very very stressed and all. So... they haven't been doing it for a moment (He's not really it the mood). And like one time, in the middle of the night he wakes up with a huge and hard one (He tries to ignore it but of course it doesn't work). He's like really needy and desperate to relief himself but for some reason he refuses to do it alone. Shortly after his mate wakes up because she feels him moving on the mat and hears muffled breathings (panting). And the rest is up to you !
It's kinda kinky haha :× Some slight subby Nete and maybe soft dom in the end :3
Anyways have sweet dreams tonight 💕🌌😴🌙And love your writing ! Muah*
this kinda got away from me hahahah
thank you bby, i really loved this actually! hope you enjoy x
wc: 1.8k words
warnings: smut (p in v, oral - m receiving, squirting, switch!Neteyam, overstimulation, choking) 18+ minors DNI
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After some 20 years of incredible rule, it was finally time for Jake to step down as Olo'eyktan. It wasn't that he wasn't capable of going on, it was that it was more and more obvious by the day that Neteyam was ready. He was ready to step in his father's shoes, he was ready to fulfil the destiny that he was born into, that he had worked for tirelessly, every day of his 20 year long life. His father had no doubt in his mind that he would be the best clan leader the Omatikaya had ever seen, a sentiment shared among most of the villagers.
You were incredibly proud of your mate. He was the youngest Olo'eyktan the Omatikaya ever had, and he was more than raising to the challenge. It was an honour to be his mate, it was a privilege watching him be the person you always knew he was, the leader everyone had reason to look up to, the man of your dreams.
Unfortunately, the praise, the title and the status also came with so much burden, so much stress and responsibility, it was hard for either of you to keep up, hard for him to navigate, to find a balance. So recently, Neteyam has been distant and withdrawn, burying himself in work and strategies, being the first one to rise and the last one to sleep. He wanted to be a good leader, and he believed that a good leader should be an example for his people, should be the one that works the hardest, should be the one that continuously strives to be better and do better for his clan.
You barely saw him anymore, much less spent time with him, felt him, touched him, had him. You refused to intervene, though. Neteyam was a well of depth sometimes even you weren't capable enough to swim in, and you knew that when he was ready to talk to you, to let you in, he would. He always did, eventually. He just needed time.
Neteyam was exhausted. Turns out he owed his dad a million apologies for all the times he thought him cold, or unwieldy, or detached from reality or his family. Turns out he was just worried, and stressed and feeling the overbearing weight of so many lives depending on him to lead, to choose, to make the best decisions, and that was no easy task. Neteyam missed you. He felt guilt and sadness enwrap him tightly at the thought. He's always had time for you. You were his priority always, and yet he knew he didn't make good on that recently.
You have always been so in love with each other, so obsessed with each other, so into each other that the rest of the world felt middling and insignificant by comparison. Neteyam could pinpoint the stars in the sky in your eyes, the thrill of tumultuous waters in the colour of your skin, the bioluminescent beauty of Pandora in your eyes, the transcending comfort of the earth in the colour and feel of your hair. You were his world. You encapsulated everything he loved about it, about life, and he loved you, he needed you, he craved you more than he'd ever be able to describe.
The thought of you as he drifted off to sleep led him to dream about you, his mind transposing him to a reality he desired desperately, but which time didn't allow at the moment. He felt you, your taut, lean body writhing underneath him as his hands trailed it hungrily, as his lips claimed your mouth, as he took orgasm after orgasm, the lewd sounds escaping you music to his ears. The dream dissipated slowly, much to his disappointment, leaving him a panting mess, his cock twitching, hurting against his now too-tight loincloth.
"Fuck."
You were fast asleep in Neteyam's arms, your soft, steady breaths the only thing that could be heard in your shared tent. Your ass was pressed snugly against Neteyam's groin, furthering his pain and incessant need to just take you and fuck you until you both passed out in exhaustion, blissfully spent.
The sound of quiet moans woke you up from your dream-filled slumber, wet dreams haunting your mind recently, the only way you got to experience the release you needed desperately. Your eyes widened slightly when you realised the dream spilled onto your reality, and the sounds came from your mate, who seemed like he was in pain. You turned around hurriedly, only to find him sprawled on his back, long slender fingers wrapped around his thick length. The heat you felt within your womb spread like wildfire all within you, awakening your senses and focusing them on him, on his beautiful face contorted in pain, on his pheromones that inundated your nostrils, on the way the pronounced veins running down his arm were more accentuated with the grip he had on his cock, and God, what an incredible sight that was. Your mouth filled with saliva taking it all in, at the memories of all the times his dick made you see stars, at the thought of how he would again tonight, after so long of being without it. He was a god among men, and you had him. You owned him. Maybe it was time he was reminded of it.
"Neteyam... if you needed help, all you had to do was ask."
His moans increased in volume as you wrapped your fingers around him and started pumping him with slow, languid motions. He was rock hard under your touch, white liquid pooling at the tip, and you couldn't help but accept the silent invitation, bringing your lips to it and kissing him softly, throbbing deep inside of you at the way he was coming apart at the seams around you.
"Baby, please..."
"Patience, my love."
You took as much of his impressive length in your mouth as you could, feeling him deep in your throat, eyes watering as the pressure made you gag slightly. You started a slow, purposeful bob of your head, taking your time, feeling every vein, every ridge, every striation of his cock, learning him by heart, imprinting him in your mind. You loved this man, and as much as you loved when he rutted into you like an animal in heat, there was nothing that compared to the thrill of the power that came with seeing him putty in your hands, in your mouth, in you. As the ache you felt continued to rear its ugly head, you let go of him with a small pop and straddled his thighs, aligning yourself easily and rubbing his tip in between your soaked folds, moaning at the contact, craving the way he filled you up in the way only he ever could.
Your synced gasps made your cunt clench around him as you lowered yourself slowly, until you bottomed out, until you could feel him deep in you, so deep that a small bump was formed in your abdomen, that you revelled at, that you wanted him to. You took his hand in yours and placed his palm on the spot, moaning at you started grinding on him leisurely.
"Feel that, my love? Feel how deep in me you are, how good you fill me up? I feel your cock in my guts, baby."
You felt the growl he released deep in your soul, its intensity leaving you breathless, and you allowed the feeling to overtake you, as the atmosphere in the room changed suddenly, and so did his demeanour. Your words snapped something in him, because his eyes darkened so much, you could barely see any discernable yellow in them anymore, and you barely registered the way he grabbed you roughly and flipped you until you were on your back, his cock still buried inside you. You gasped loudly at the way your body made contact with the ground and at his look, feral and untamed, and it would have scared you if it wasn't so fucking hot, so primal and raw, so erotic and so, so necessary. His hand wrapped around your throat and squeezed until there was no air in your lungs anymore, until your head went dizzy, until your insides churned in need.
"You make me fucking crazy. How did I go so long without your tight little cunt wrapped around my cock, huh?"
Without warning, he starts a ruthless pace, knocking you back with every animalistic thrust, keeping you in place roughly by your throat, until your cervix was battered and bruised, until you came around him once, twice, three times. You were crying from overstimulation, from the high of the intermittent asphyxiation, from how his brutal actions were antithetic to his gentle caress of your cheek or the occasional peck on the forehead in between orgasms.
"Neteyam, I can't anymore -"
"Yes, you can, my love. One more. Just one more and then you can sleep. You're doing so well for me, baby."
He brought a hand to your thighs, bringing them over his shoulders and the new angle was allowing him to drag his cock on your G-spot repeatedly, making your vision blurry and your core throb yet again, the familiar feeling pooling in you once more, more acute than any of the previous. His thumb was circling your clit, and the pressure was too much, it was so good, it was heaven and hell, it was everything and not enough.
"There you go, baby, I can feel you squeezing my cock again. You gonna milk me? You gonna be a good girl and take my cum, let me fill this pretty pussy up? Gonna smell like me for a whole week, huh?"
"Y-yes, fuck yeah!"
"You like having my cum drip down your thighs for all the village to see, huh? Like everybody knowing you're getting fucked by the Olo'eyktan?"
Your eyes rolled in the back of your head at his words and you squirted all over your mate as the most intense orgasm you've ever had in your life washed over you, leaving you convulsing around him until your body was limp and your mind blank. He came with a moan, ropes of thick cum painting your pink walls and spilling down your ass and onto the fabric of your mat. He didn't pull out, not for a long time, collapsing on top of you instead, kissing your face and down your neck softly, like a whisper or warm hug. You loved how he was the best of both worlds, how he cherished you, how he always made sure you were ok, how he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, about how amazing you were, about how well you did for him, how you were his world and his brightest star, the love of his life, the best thing that has ever happened to him.
You were both spent and on the brink of sleep when you spoke serenely.
"So... did you only want to become Olo'eyktan so you can use that line on me or...?"
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mj-iza-writer · 29 days
Text
Whumper came down the stairs and glanced at Whumpee.
"Come on, you smell horrible", Whumper stood at the bottom step.
"Yes Master", Whumpee worked to stand up. Their small naked frame shook with the exertion of moving. They fell forward, but caught themself.
Whumper watched them semi concerned, "you okay?"
"Um yes Master, just a little weaker than normal", Whumpee limped toward them, "think I'm a little cold, that's all."
"Mmm-hmm, so you get two options for bathing today. Option one, a warm bath with some medical attention, but you do not get a meal tonight. Option two, you get cleaned by the hose outside, but I'll give you a nice meal for dinner."
"Uhm, may I have a warm bath", Whumpee followed Whumper up the stairs.
"Yes you may, that was a fast decision", Whumper started to walk to the bathroom.
"Yes Mas-master it's cold downstairs, so I think it's cold outside", Whumpee watched as Whumper prepared the tub, they glanced at the toilet.
"You're right it is cold outside", Whumper started the bath.
"Master you said I was right", Whumpee gleamed.
"Yes, I guess I did. You're right occasionally", Whumper grinned.
"Master may I use the toilet instead of the bucket", Whumpee looked at the toilet again.
"Go ahead", Whumper watched them.
"Alright, try not to make too much of a mess, and enjoy.... it... hold on", Whumper noticed something.
Whumpee froze as they had just gotten into the water.
"I'm sorry Master did I do something that made you unhappy", Whumpee worried, 'was this all a joke', Whumpee thought to themself.
Whumpee's skin quivered as Whumper felt around their back.
"No, I think you have an infection on your back", Whumper frowned, "I'll take care of it when I do your medicine."
"Yes Master", Whumpee lowered into the water and exhaled a sigh of relief.
Later Whumpee waited for Whumper in the living room.
Whumper had already finished medical treatment and decided to trim Whumpee's nails.
Whumper came out carrying a steaming bowl of something that caused Whumpee to drool.
Whumper set it on the coffee table in front of Whumpee.
Whumpee didn't dare look at it, but they savored the smell.
'I don't get dinner tonight', Whumpee reminded themself, 'I chose this.'
Whumper sat on the couch and pulled out their phone.
"You can eat that if you like", Whumper didn't pay any mind to Whumpee.
"Master you said I didn't get any dinner", Whumpee sat up on their knees to get closer.
"I know, but that infection on your back is pretty bad. I think your body is weak because of it. It would be better to give it sustenance to help", Whumper watched Whumpee sniff at the bowl.
"You going to eat it?", Whumper frowned.
"I'm sorry Master it smells so good", Whumpee looked at Whumper, "I appreciate this."
"You're welcome, now eat it."
Whumpee almost fell over with how good the food tasted. 'I haven't had warm food in so long and I had a warm bath today even', Whumpee smiled to themself. It made them feel almost human again.... they didn't dare tell Whumper that though.
"I'll get you some better medicine tomorrow when I go out", Whumper eyed the infection again as Whumpee ate, "hopefully we'll get that under control."
Whumpee looked up happily.
When done, Whumpee followed Whumper down to the basement again.
"Why are you acting sad?", Whumper frowned, "I did more for you than I originally intended."
"Yes Master, I apologize. I enjoyed being upstairs with you", Whumpee looked at Whumper sadly, "I'm lonely down here."
"I have one more surprise down here for you", Whumper pointed, "but this is where you stay. Right?"
"Yes Master", Whumpee looked at where Whumper pointed and saw a blanket waiting for them.
They limped quickly to the blanket, "is this for me?"
"Yes for right now at least", Whumper turned to go back up, "don't make me regret my kindness to you."
"Master, thankyou so much", Whumpee looked up at them with a smile.
"Yep", Whumper called from the top of the stairs.
At the sound of the lock, Whumpee pulled the blanket over themself and cuddled into it. They limped to a corner of the room and laid down.
The next day, Whumpee overheard Whumper leaving.
They hadn't seen Whumper yet, so Whumper hadn't taken the blanket away yet.
Whumpee was going to soak in all of the warmth they could.
Whumper now stood in the medicine aisle, looking at all of the options available.
"Sorry, I'm coming beside you", someone stepped closer and grabbed something, "got an infection?"
"My friend does, they're not able to make it into see a doctor right now. I thought I'd help them out. I had no idea there were so many medications though", Whumper frowned.
"Coming from a doctor I suggest they get into see one, but these should help hold them over until they can", the person grabbed something off the shelf, "I always recommend these to my patients."
"You're a doctor huh?", Whumper reached for the products, "thankyou so much, I appreciate this."
"Yes the names Caretaker", they reached a hand out.
"Whumper", they extended their hand for a handshake.
"If your friend needs a doctor, here is my card", Caretaker offered a business card.
"Thankyou", Whumper felt the wheels spinning in their head.
During the next week Whumper watched Caretaker, he knew their routines perfectly.
The medicine that was recommended had cleared up Whumpee's infection perfectly.
"Master, I feel so much better", Whumpee smiled as Whumper applied more medicine to the infected area.
"It definitely looks better", Whumper studied Whumpee's backside, "I'm glad."
"So I'm going out for a drive tonight again", Whumper stood and started to go to the stairs, "what does that mean for you?"
"I am to be good Master", Whumpee smiled up at Whumper, while trying not to draw attention to the blanket that was still down there.
"Good Whumpee", Whumper turned to go, but eyed the blanket, making Whumpee's heart sink.
"Are you enjoying having a blanket?", Whumper turned to them.
"Y-yes Master", Whumpee nodded.
"Good", Whumper sighed as they walked to the stairs, "I'll see you later."
Whumpee cuddled into the blanket after Whumper had left. They were careful not to let it touch the medicine, Whumper would punish them harshly if they messed it up.
Whumper watched Caretaker leave the office and get into their car.
Whumper followed Caretaker to a store they often frequented.
On the way out Caretaker found his path blocked by a car, then noticed his car was on fire.
Before he knew it, he was pushed into the car and they were speeding off from the scene.
"What is the meaning of thi....?", Caretaker was met with a gun, "who are you?"
Whumper had hidden most of their face with a mask.
"Place your phone in your bag and put everything in the backseat", Whumper commanded.
Caretaker sighed as they followed orders.
"Are my things back here? You broke into my car?", Caretaker frowned.
"How do you think your car caught fire", Whumper handed over a set of handcuffs, "put these on, hands behind your back."
Caretaker frowned as a firetruck sped by, "you are twisted."
Whumper chuckled, "you have no idea."
Whumpee heard Whumper crash through the door, and force open the bars that locked the basement.
"Oh no, they're mad", they pulled blanket closer trying to get every ounce of warmth before it was taken away.
Whumper came down the stairs, but someone was with them.
"Whumpee I've solved your loneliness issues, and your medical issues", Whumper announced as they guided the person to a kneeling position, "I can't take you to the doctor, so I brought one to you."
Whumper yanked off a blindfold they had forced onto Caretaker.
Caretaker looked around and locked eyes with Whumpee.
"Where am I?", Caretaker then glanced up at Whumper, "you?"
"Yes, you should really be careful with your personal information", Whumper chuckled, "you never know what someone is capable of."
Whumper unlocked the handcuffs, "if you move before I am at the top of the stairs you'll regret it. Am I clear?"
"Yes", Caretaker felt his throat tighten, this couldn't be happening right.
The bars slammed shut, clearing Caretaker to move.
They stood and quickly went up the stairs.
"It's locked", they came back down and eyed Whumpee.
"How long have you been here? Are you a captive too?", Caretaker frowned.
"I've been here a long time.... yes", Whumpee nodded, "if I may give you some advice."
Caretaker frowned, but nodded.
"Listen and do what they ask, or you'll look like me", Whumpee wasn't brave enough to pull off the blanket yet.
Caretaker sat down in the corner across the room, "I-I'm sorry, I need a little bit to think about what just happened."
Whumpee nodded, "okay", they whispered.
After a while, Whumpee noticed that Caretaker was shivering. They still had clothes on, but it was still pretty cold down their.
Whumpee looked down at their coveted blanket.
'I'm more use to this down here, than they are', Whumpee weakly stood and cautiously carried the blanket over.
Caretaker turned quickly when they felt the blanket cover them.
They looked up and watched Whumpee limp back to their spot.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were naked under their. Please take this back, you'll catch a cold", Caretaker started to get up.
"No please, it's okay", Whumpee whispered, "I'm more used to it down here than you are. We don't always get a blanket down here."
Caretaker frowned, "what have they done to you?"
"I don't really want to talk about what I've been through", Whumpee looked down at their beaten body.
"Okay, I'm sorry", Caretaker sighed.
"Hey Whumpee", Whumper called from upstairs.
Whumpee got up as quickly as they could and went to the stairs.
"Yes master?", Whumpee limped up a few steps.
"Catch these", Whumper tossed down two bottles of water and another blanket, "I'm going to bed, don't be up too late."
Whumpee nodded, "thankyou so much Master."
Whumpee handed Caretaker a water bottle.
"This blanket is probably cleaner than that one if you want to switch", Whumpee showed the blanket off.
"It looks thicker though, you use it", Caretaker gave a weak smile, "if you like, I'll give you a full checkup tomorrow, I can't imagine the last time you've seen a doctor."
"It's been a while", Whumpee sat down again, "I take it you were the doctor Whumper said recommended the medication I've been getting."
"Yes that was me", Caretaker nodded.
"Thankyou so much, I didn't feel good. I feel better now", Whumpee smiled, "Master says my back is better as well."
"That's good, I'm glad it helped", Caretaker watched Whumpee curl up on the floor.
"I hope it's okay, I'm quite tired", Whumpee yawned.
"I'll probably turn in soon to", Caretaker sighed. "I guess I don't have much of a choice right now."
Whumpee nodded, before resting their head on the floor, "goodnight, um doctor."
"Goodnight", Caretaker felt their heart ache.
'How long have you been here, and no one knew?', Caretaker thought to themself, 'the world went on, and you've been in the basement of a madman.'
Whumpee stretched out as they made happy sighs.
"I'll take care of you, and I'll get us out of this... somehow", Caretaker whispered, "I promise."
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109 @idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @thebejeweledwatercat
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saetoru · 2 years
Text
[ IMPOSSIBLE ] BAKUGOU KATSUKI.
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it’s quiet this morning—which is fairly odd with bakugou, considering he’s always cursing about one thing or another under his breath as he gets ready, but today it’s silent. 
and it’s only silent because you refuse to talk to him, and he’s not going to talk to a wall, so he plays along. but you can tell he’s an atom bomb ticking, ready to go off any moment—and it really doesn’t take long before he lets out one last frustrated huff and takes the spatula from your hand as you make breakfast, pushing the pan off the heat before turning you to face him. 
he notes that there are still two eggs on the pan instead of one (you’re angry, not rude.)
“hey, what gives—”
“i’ve had fuckin’ enough,” he grunts, narrowing his eyes at you, “quit bein’ mad.”
“oh,” you hum, smiling dryly as you nod, “yeah, you’re right. i’ll just stop being sad next time i’m sad too. or stop feeling tired next time i get tired.”
“y’know that’s not what i meant,” he groans, pinching his nose, “i meant ‘m sorry. so stop bein’ mad,” he tries again. it’s blunt and doesn’t really butter you up like you’d hope, but it’s him and it’s sincere. 
last night is your first fight since you’ve moved in together. as in, last night is the first time you and bakugou don’t sleep on the same bed. he’s stuck on the couch for cursing at you—he always curses, but never with that tone directed towards you—and you sleep on the bed alone. 
his back is aching, but that’s not even the worst part. the worst part is that he now realizes that when your body isn’t slotted next to his, he doesn’t know what to do with his arms (he settles for awkwardly crossing them over his chest), and when you don’t talk his ear off before bed, he doesn’t have the sound of your voice to lull him to sleep (he ends up tossing and turning on the couch for most of the night.)
and with this newfound information, bakugou katsuki decides he will never be sleeping on the couch again. ever. so his only solution is to fix things so you don’t send him there tonight too.
but you’re still upset, so you turn your head and huff. 
“well, you shouldn’t have been so mean to me then,” you raise a brow, crossing your arms at him. 
the first time you and bakugou fight, it’s at your apartment after a date. it’s the first time he raises his voice at you, the first time he’s not gentle behind the tough exterior you think is practically his second skin. and before he can make things worse, before he can ruin the first thing in his life that’s not just good or even great, but perfect, he storms out to clear his head. 
he comes by the next morning with your coffee order and some breakfast before he mumbles an apology at your front doorstep. it’s awkward and gruff and a little choppy, but his voice is soft and his eyes are dim. you sigh before offering to split your breakfast and he doesn’t step a foot inside your home until you give him a kiss. 
the second time you fight is in the car. you’re the one to storm out this time, slamming the door at a red light and walking off before he can even fully comprehend what’s happened. and because luck seems to never be on either of your sides, it’s raining. he finds you shivering on the park bench where you both have your first picnic, and he drapes his jacket over you as he lectures you like he’s your father about the dangers of walking off in the middle of the night while it’s raining. 
because he’s equal parts annoying when he lectures, and equal parts endearing when he’s worried, you cut him off with a kiss. it’s a messy kiss, rain on your lips and a clash of teeth from the initial shock, but he melts into it instantly. he understands that night why cliche rain kisses are so romantic as he holds you in the middle of an empty park.  
and he thinks no matter how many times you fight, no matter who’s mad at who, he’ll find a way to end every argument with a kiss if it’s the last thing he’ll do.
“yeah, so ‘m sayin’ sorry,” he mutters, “didn’t mean it, okay? i love you.” you can’t help but notice that the last part isn’t stiff and awkward like everything else—he says i love you delicately, like it’s a fragile thing to say, like it’s a privilege he won’t take for granted. 
“well, i’m still mad,” you say stubbornly. 
“then quit bein’ mad,” he furrows his brows, “my back hurts on that damn shitty couch, okay? ’s gonna hurt my performance too. i’ll have to tell the families of the people i can’t save that you’re the reason why,” he warns, and he smirks a little at the way you have to chew your bottom lip to hide the giggle you almost let slip. 
“how bad does it hurt?”
“worst back pain i ever endured,” he says instantly. it’s a lie. he’s been slammed against buildings and concrete and practically given you enough heart attacks to leave you bedridden for the rest of your life—but he has to convince you somehow, even if it’s through dramatics. 
you sigh, and he almost thinks he’s won—almost.
“okay, you sleep on the bed, and i’ll sleep on the couch tonight—”
“you’re so fuckin’ gullible,” he cuts you off instantly, “as if a damn couch could do anything to me. i’ll sleep there until you’re done bein’ pissy,” he grumbles. 
you frown because you know him, and you know he’s just saying that. and just like that, the anger melts away and leaves behind the soft ache that only bakugou can placate. the kind of ache he placates by pretending the couch doesn’t hurt his back so it doesn’t have to hurt yours.
“katsuki—”
“i said i’ll sleep there,” he says firmly, “you’d get cold anyway. fuckin’ baby.”
“fine,” you spit, scrunching up your nose as you huff slightly, “you can sleep on the bed with me. but don’t touch.”
“i’ll stick to the couch then,” he says flatly, “the bed’s a full package deal. cuddles or nothing.”
“you are impossible,” you scoff, and he grins, chuckling lightly as his eyes stare at you amused. and he’s not perfect, a little rough around the edges with a mouth that runs before he thinks, but he loves hard and deep, enough to make you believe you’re worth sleeping on a stiff couch for with a thin blanket. enough to show up at your doorstep with your coffee and breakfast order memorized. enough to soak through the rain to hand you a jacket so you’re less cold.
“you’ll come runnin’ to me for cuddles sooner or later,” he snorts, “might as well make it sooner.”
“fine,” you cave, and because you missed him just like he missed you, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean in to kiss his jaw, “i love you too. and you can join me in bed and have your stupid cuddles.”
“‘m doin’ it for you,” he has the audacity to shoot back.
“katsuki, you really are impossible,” you snort as you shake your head, and when he gives you a lopsided grin, you kiss him slow and deep and a little more in love than you were yesterday. 
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© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok
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ma3mae · 11 months
Text
"I feel like sleeping on the couch tonight"
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Summary: Pranking your hubby/bf by telling them that ^ and how they'd react (fukuzawa, ranpo, tecchou)
Genre: kinda cracky, def some fluff and more tooth rotting fluff 💀🛐
Warnings: tecchou whipped for ur cute ass, me barking for fukuzawa, ranpo being a child.
A/N: saw it from a reel on insta and immediately HAD to use that inspo, okurr 😤✋originally wanted to add fyodor but ill prob do it in a part 2 thingy
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Fukuzawa Yukichi
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Ok so first off hes a major workaholic so you prob often fall asleep on the couch during some movie watching while waiting for him at home
always feels apologetic and even guilty bc not only as his lover but as a person, you should be sleeping in the comforts of your bed
will always carry you to bed bc he wouldnt want to wake you up as well. You already did enough by trying to stay up for him
So you can see how surprised he is when he finally arrives at home at reasonable hours and you lying wide awake on the couch
And you suddenly blurt that shit out?? HES ALSO PROB TIRED AF ILL MASSAGE U, ZADDY WOOF
takes a seat next to you and immediately asks if theres a reason for that
wont jump to conclusions but will still be a bit taken back and worried that it might be his fault...
"Nah, i just feel like it today." "Oh okay, well if you say so" SOBBING FR
He values honesty above all else and wouldnt doubt that you'd be pranking or lying to him tbh and overall your comfort is one of his main priorities
So he'll let it go but still be saddened that you dont wanna sleep in your shared bed :((
A sudden idea pops up in his head bc at some point even he wants to still be in his lover's arms especially after work
Its already sad enough that yall cant do it whenever u want to D: HUG HIM FFS
********
"Then I shall join you on the couch if you're alright with it?" Before you can even say anything, he takes a seat right next to you. You shuffled your feet away from him to give him some space, focusing your gaze onto the TV. You knew if you'd look at him, you'd immediately stop the prank. His gaze alone would make anyone confess their biggest secrets and well, you didn't want to spoil the fun yet.
Yet it only needed a clearing of his throat to turn your attention towards him and oh no...
You couldn't do it. How would you? When he was looking at you like you just kicked a ton of cats infront of him.
"Y/N."
NO! DON'T SAY ANYTHING
"I'm sorry if I have been neglecting you lately. If there's anything I can d-"
"It's prank.."
You sat up as you took his hands into yours.
"I didn't mean to make you feel like you've been neglecting me... I just saw it online and thought it was a funny prank."
Blinking his eyes in confusion, his gaze softened at your words.
He pulls his hands back before wrapping them around you, gently pressing your bodies closer as you felt his lips on your head.
"Even if it's just a prank, I have still been neglecting my duties as your husband lately and apologize greatly for that."
Slightly pulling back, you feel his rough hand cupping your cheek.
Eyes full of love looking into your glassy ones as he lets his thumb stroke a stray tear away.
"I apologize deeply for making you feel in such a way that you had to" prank" me as you called it. You must have felt lonely these days but don't worry. I will make sure to return home earlier because I have also been missing you, my love. "
After a loving kiss and an enjoyable evening, he had kept his word for the future days and if something would change, he made sure to notify you immediately.
Yet at the end of the day, he would always return to your beloved home and into your arms for the night.
**********
Yall, dont be surprised in how FAST we confessed
look me in the eyes and say you wouldnt spill everything out when THIS man looks at you like he'd give you the world if he could 🛐🛐
He'd def try his best to keep his promise but sometimes yokohama takes a bit longer to save but dw he'll make time for you bc happy wife happy life
cook him smth, massage him, just be there for him and let him lie on your chest or smth and he'll already feel so blessed
we all wanna pamper him ok, he be raising a whole orphanage so someone gotta pamper him too
I just want me a nice fukuzaddy alright 😩😩😩😩
Edogawa Ranpo
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He'll give you the biggest side eye fr 👁️
like?? Hello?? Why sleep on the couch when you can be in bed with the world's greatest detective???
Will fr shame you for that ngl
He obviously knows its a prank but he cant believe you have the AUDACITY to do it to him
You are literally challenging a MAN CHILD, have fun 🤓
For the sake of it, you did the prank after knowing that it was a pretty uneventful day at the agency but oh dont worry
This man WILL gaslight u into thinking it wasnt 💀
*******
"So you want to sleep on the couch, huh?"
There he stood infront of you, arms crossed, the biggest pout he could muster on his face and blocking your sight of the TV as you continued to nonchalantly munch on HIS chips he had hidden under the bed.
"Well, I just feel like it."
""wElL i jUsT fEEl LikE iT", she says. Then I feel like taking MY chips back, thank you very much!"
Before he could snatch them away, you immediately turned your back towards him, clutching the bag tightly in your arms.
"Y/N, YOU'RE BREAKING THE CHIPS?!?!"
"and I'M sleeping on the couch."
Silence fills the room for some seconds before you hear a huff behind you. Hasty steps making their way towards your shared bedroom before the door being shut quite loudly.
Doubt was creaking through your resolve, asking if you were maybe overdoing it.
"Nah, he knows I'm joking....Right?"
An hour passed before he came back, flopping himself down onto your legs and you could just feel how he was pressing down harder on purpose so there'd be no way to leave.
"Ow, Ranpo?! Get off of my legs!!"
Yet his sharp gaze stopped you, not giving you the slightest chance to tell him off.
It made you nervous, how he just sat there with his arms crossed, eyes not leaving yours.
Was he threatening or mocking you??
You weren't sure.
"You know, Y/N..." He slowly began as you felt him press down even harder.
"I really don't appreciate what you're doing right now."
"H-Huh, what do you mean?"
He physically had to hold himself back from laughing at your clueless face because oh...
Oh, you wanted to prank him? Then be ready to get it handed back at you even worse.
"So many people have been hurt today, all these lives the Agency had to save with MY help. You don't know how many eyes I had to witness as they were about to lose their light in them. So many were at Death's door and we managed to help them. Now I'm tired and ready to be welcomed by the comforts of my home and the love of my life pulling me into her arms, telling me how proud she is of me of having LITERALLY saved the city and maybe wanting to lighten that burden on my shoulders I have to carry every day? "
He pressed his index finger on your forehead as he leaned in closer.
"That's not very nice of you, you know. Imagine you'd be the World's Greatest Detective and coming home exhausted but your lover decides to be weird and seemingly not EVEN appreciating my work. Can't relate to that, right?"
You hated him.
You hated him so much for how he exactly knew what to say to get what he wanted.
But that's also what made you fall in love with him at the first place.
"If so many people have been hurt then why didn't I see it o-"
"We have ties, Y/N. Of course they wouldn't broadcast something like that on TV. Do you know what chaos it would cause to this city and possibly the world? "
It only made you frown as he clicked his tounge at you while waving his finger at your words.
"Now, now you know what you should be saying after pulling such a stunt like this. Especially after I have worked so hard today."
Pulling your blanket over your head to break from his intense gaze seemed to do nothing, as he had just simply snatched it out of your hands.
"I'm not gonna apologize to you for that! Just wanted to pull a prank on you and you just have to turn it onto me!"
He merely shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, what did you expect? You should be glad that I didn't give it back to you ten times worse. Just wanted to go home, eat your cooking and maybe cuddle but I might actually not do that at all today."
"Ugh, you're such a buzzkill."
You just sighed at his words and he suddenly found himself in your arms.
He turned towards you with a frown on his face yet his reddened face seemed to lessen the effect of his next words.
"H-Hey! I didn't say that I forgive you for your prank!"
"Well but I forgive you for trying to make me feel bad for it. If you wanted me to cuddle and kiss you then just say so. You knew it was a prank after all."
"But I didn't like it when you said that you'd rather sleep on the couch than on the bed today..."
His voice resonated through your chest as he pressed his face against it, muffled words accompanied with a whiny tone.
"I never said, I would sleep without you though?"
A laugh escaped you as his head shot up, big eyes meeting your amused ones.
Yet he only gave a pout at your words as he went back to your chest, wanting to hide his embarassement from you.
"You're mean but I still love you. You owe me candy for putting me through this, though."
You only let your hand glide through his hair before settling it on his neck, giving light scratches to the spots he liked.
A satisfied sigh escaped him and soon the room was filled with only noises from your TV.
"I'm already sweet enough so that should suffice as" candy", right? And that was your pick up line not mine so I'll stick to what you meant."
"Yeah, yeah. Now let's just cuddle in peace, okay."
A comforting silence grew between the both of you as you later on fell asleep together, a smile etched on each face.
********
This was SO long lmao but next time you'll prank him, he'll just dump some water on u bc thats sparing you from him at this point
bRO COULD legit just expose everything of u but he wouldnt bc he loves u too much 💕💕💕😤😤😤
Suehiro Tetchou
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bro, thats like the worst prank u could do to him bc... he wouldnt get it first...
the only reaction you'll get is 🙂 him when he greets you > 😐 when u tell him that
hes gonna be fr confused like... why does his partner want to sleep on the couch but... okay?????
Honestly i think he wouldnt protest right out but at the end of the day, even he wants some cuddles after work :(
*********
Tecchou was excited. No one would really know about it if it wasn't for the light smile adorning his face as he thought about going home.
The only one who'd notice is Jouno but he didn't really care enough to mention anything about it.
He'd merely click his tounge when his annoying ass colleague would take a bit longer to respond to his questions, only saying the words "Just go home if even the smallest things are distracting for you."
Jouno could swear he was about to kick him in his face when he'd hear him turn towards him and only reply with "Y/N is smaller than me but not the smallest thing though."
"JUST LEAVE ALREADY, OH MY GOD!! I can't listen to your rambling about them any longer!"
Only he could nearly make Jouno groan in agony as he turned and began to walk away, not wanting to be near that idiot, knowing he'd just be looking like a lovestruck dumbass to everyone around them.
Tecchou only blinked at his partner's outburst, yet took his word and began to make his way home.
An exasperated sigh left Jouno's lips as he heard his footsteps yet it didn't surprise him at all.
He just couldn't get it around his head how someone could even be into that guy but oh well.
It's not his problem as long as it doesn't disrupt their work.
After all he had to give his thanks to that weirdo's partner for having given him a way to make him comply more easily.
It took him a simple "Just finish already and then you can go home."
"Okay."
Would be his only answer every damn time yet Jouno couldn't help but let out a small smirk when he'd hear the racing pulse of their enemies as if it was a declaration of Death from the Grim Reaper himself in their eyes.
Finally arriving at home, Tecchou would take off his coat and hat, hanging it onto the designated stand for such things.
A soft smile adorned his face as he walked into the living room of your shared apartment, finding you laying comfortably on the couch, the crinkling of stuffing your hand into the pack of spicy potato chips echoing through the room as a cackle escaped your lips.
"Trash TV's surprisingly entertaining if it's done right, HA! "
"Y/N."
A yelp escaped you as you sat up and whipped your head around, only to see your boyfriend standing behind you.
Tecchou was unfazed by your surprise,reaching for your face to wipe the potato crumbs on your lips with his thumb.
"Mmh, chips. The spicy one's are especially tasty with mustard and red pepper." He told you as he licked the crumbs off of his thumb, a smile adorning his face as he sat himself down next to you.
Laying his head onto your lap, the soft fuzzy blanket covering it, making it all the more welcome for him to lay on them.
He had randomly gifted them to you one day, simply because "it reminded him of you".
Fuzzy and warm. That's how he'd always feel when thinking, looking and touching you.
"That sounds like a really weird combo." You replied as you smiled at his words, settling your hand on his head before let your fingers run along his scalp and scratching the right spots, making him sigh as he pressed his face against your stomach, snuggling into it.
"Are you tired, honey? You could go to bed, you know?" You asked him as he closed his eyes, breathing evening out while he wrapped his arms around your waist, enjoying your smell and warmth.
"Just wanna cuddle right now."
"Alright." You replied with, thinking about how you'd tell him the words you've been wanting to say for a while now.
An hour passed before you felt your boyfriend stir a bit, finally turning his head up to you, yet his arms still enclosed around their original spot.
Your legs were cramping at this point but how could you tell that your boyfriend when he just looked so cute like that??
"Had a nice nap?"
"Yeah, it was nice but I'm still tired..."
"You can go to bed if you'd like. Have you eaten anything yet though?"
"I have after the mission. I think I'll go to bed though."
Tetchou stood up and made his way to the bathroom, getting ready for bed.
After 10 minutes, he found himself back on the couch, a slight furrow of his eyebrows as he asked.
"Aren't you going to bed with me?"
Welp, straightforward as always.
"Uhmm no, I feel like sleeping on the couch today. Sorry, honey..."
"Oh. That's okay."
Blinking at his reply, he gave you a peck on the lips before going to your shared bedroom, the shutting of the door being the last sign of him before you were left alone on the couch.
You had forgotten that he wouldn't see any fault in that...
So was it really a prank? You didn't know, feeling a bit guilty yet you stuck to your plan.
Maybe he'd notice something was wrong the next day....
.
.
.
"Y/N."
You felt a hand slightly shaking you, making you stir in your sleep before slowly opening your eyes, recognizing the face of your boyfriend through your blurry sight.
"T-Tetchou??"
There he was kneeling before you so you'd be face to face as you lied on the couch, having fallen asleep after your continious marathon of trash TV.
Blinking to get a clear sight of him, you could see slight eyebags under his eyes.
"I can't sleep without you, Y/N. Come to bed or let's sleep on the couch together."
He suggested as he cupped your cheek with his hand, leaning his forehead against yours.
Hazel eyes bore into yours as the guilt inside of you went haywire.
"I'm so sorry, Tetchou. I should have gone to bed with you."
"But you said you wanted to sleep on the couch which is no problem at all."
You let out a sigh as you sat up, hands fiddling with your blanket, feeling him instantly lay his arms and head onto your lap, his eyes refusing to leave your face.
"Well... It was a prank."
He merely blinked at your words, seemingly processing your words.
"Why would you say that you'd want to sleep on the couch as a prank? Isn't a prank something like hurting someone but making it seem like an accident?"
"Yeah well, I did hurt you."
Your only reply was him furrowing his eyebrows as stood up, only to take a seat next to you.
Letting him pull you onto his lap, he gently cupped your face in his hands.
"But you never did?" His obliviousness was taking a toll onto you.
The guilt was surely consuming you. He was so honest to a fault and that made itself apparent in how he'd perceive anyone else especially you.
He would never think that YOU would ever do something to hurt him.
How could he? You loved him and he loved you.
Why should someone hurt the person they love the most?
"But Tetchou, I-I did. You couldn't sleep because I didn't go to bed with you and I had a hunch you'd probably get up and talk to me about it but I wasn't sure so I... stuck to it."
You couldn't look him in the eyes, yet the sudden lips on your forehead made your gaze shift onto his, confused eyes clashing against slight amused ones.
"That's not hurting me. Don't worry, Y/N. I'm used to pranks even if yours isn't one. Jouno would often do that too."
"Jouno??? Since when does he even do something like pranking??"
"Well he would sometimes just not reply when I talk to him or try to make me trip when I'm about to deal with the enemy. He would sometimes just click his tounge and walk away because it never works on me though. Heh, it's kinda funny if I think about it now. "
Ah.
How would you tell him that it was just Jouno being a dick.
You couldn't help but sweatdrop at his words, the guilt being comepletely wiped away as you thought that it would be better for their... colleagueship to just leave them be.
"That does sound funny... But maybe let's just go to bed. It is late after all."
"Hm, but I haven't forgiven you yet."
Eyes bulging yet narrowing at his words as you saw the corners of his lips rise up, a small but definite smirk decorating his handsome features.
"Hey!! You just said that I didn't even prank you!"
He let out a breathy laugh as you yelped, having lifted you up with ease and making his way to the bedroom.
"Yeah but u got pranked, heh."
You could only let out a "Hmph!" at his words yet not stopping the smile spreading on your face as he laid you down onto the bed, immediately laying down next to you and wrapping his arms around you, your legs entangling with each other as he pressed a soft kiss onto your lips.
"I think Jouno is being a bad influence on you." you teased as he let a hand glide through your hair.
"Hm maybe but I can now understand when he says" give them a taste of their own medicine.""
You merely rolled your eyes at his cheeky statement, pinching his nose before tucking your head under his chin, shuffling closer towards him.
"Let's just sleep already, you tease." were your last words for the night before closing your eyes, the beating of his heart like a lullaby for your ears.
"Good night, Y/N." he said in a quiet voice as he let his lips linger on the crown of your head before closing his eyes as well, the warmth of your body guaranteeing him he'd have the best sleep as always with you in his arms.
********
you still dont know what posessed him that night for behaving like that 😩
U even went to Jouno and asked him about it, no eyes boy was just like "? maybe that was a fake LOL" u shouldnt have asked that h*e 🙂🙂🙂 jk we love him
now you'd be wary of "pranking" ur bf, maybe he'd prank u back again but worse.... yet you'd quickly forget about all of that bc he'd shower u with kisses whenever you'd ask him about it
even he can be sneaky but we forgive him bc hes cute ok 🛐
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undercoverpena · 4 months
Text
vii. take care of me
frankie morales x f!reader | chapter seven of i like the way you
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best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.
warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. flirting. idiots who are so in love it’s stupid. feelings. smut - p in v. reader has a bad day, soft romantic fucking.
word count: 4.7k
an: the biggest thanks to @thetriumphantpanda who read this before bake off and left me a bunch of comments that made me so excited, you almost had this chapter yesterday.
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You had seemed downtrodden before he rocked up and ‘broke a rule’.
His pretence at forgetting all quickly seen through, as though he’s transparent. He had wanted to explain that he had only wanted to cheer you up, but you looked less in the mood for an apology than you did an explanation.
So he swallowed both.
From the middle of the week, he had suspected something was wrong. When he had finally managed to call you, you had sounded so close to tears, that he wondered whether he should drive back sooner.
Especially when you had barely laughed at a joke he made on one of his commutes back to the hotel—barely even answering when he asked it if was his movie choice or yours.
I don’t mind. You always mind. If I remember right, you have a real thing about me always pickin’ the movie, querida. Well, I don’t today, okay? You can pick—I—Frankie, I have to go.
When the end call tone flooded the bed of his truck, he’d strongly suspected that you’d fought your way off the phone with him so you could crumble. Cracking yourself open into a bunch of shards, all pressure-cooked by the weight of everything you take on, only to say you’re fine.
It’s why he had driven past your place the day before he had made plans to see you. Fighting with himself about getting out and going up to your door. Weighing up the options as to whether checking on you tonight or waiting for tomorrow would be best.
Then there was the fact he wasn’t sure if it was as your best friend or as someone who hopes for something more.
The lines blurred, practically erased. A speech is likely needed, but he’s as poor with words as he is with owning how he feels, so it’s easier to stuff them down—to drive away, wait.
It’s why he grabbed it to begin with. Why he’d been grabbing them since you put the darn rule in place anyway. A habit, a part of his routine seeing you—a thing he did to show you that you mattered, were important, cared for.
Which is why he’d wrestled with him again on whether to leave it in the car when he walked up to your front door or not.
“You broke a rule.”
You look glum, defeated. Whatever your working week had done to you, it had stolen more from you than you’d been able to—never mind willing to give.
And it fractured a part of him. Made his shoulders sink, his heart sinks—because nothing hurt him more than the look on your face. The one which should be full of smiles and twinkling eyes.
Kissing your cheek, he closes your front door behind him. “I think you’ll forgive me.”
You just snort. Momentarily smothering the sadness that had been there before he’d showed you the bottle—whatever had upset you buried, all of it being quickly hidden as you placed the wine down and picked up your water bottle.
It forces more confusion to swirl inside of him, more so as you begin to go back and forth with him on food, on what he wants to watch, and whether he wants to share a blanket or have his own.
He replies in his usual tone, even if his attention is split into equal parts—one part focused on the little things you do, the mannerisms you’re not aware to pretend. The other on the IKEA furniture he built, the memories pricking him, needling, making the zipper of his jeans suddenly feel uncomfortable over his cock.
“Work been okay?”
Your mouth falls open, all set to answer, but then something shifts in your eyes. A shadow—possibly—it dancing across the plain, suddenly all but desperate to thump its way out.
Then the words never come. Swallowing instead, discarding whatever you'd been about to say—pushing it back before any lingering parts of it are blinked away as you offer a nod.
“Yeah. Yours?” you answer, but your tone isn’t right.
It’s flat, without its usual infliction. There isn't any edge to your words, nor a tease or taunt, not even a Morales in sight. And, the smile you paint doesn’t quite reach the eyes.
It’s practically humming now, the fact something is wrong. It simmers, hanging around, whistling through the air.
Yet, you don’t break, don’t confess it all to him like you had once done with such ease. Instead, you just smear another smile on your face, nudging him, phone in hand as you mumble about food options and what he wants as you lead him to the sofa.
He knows on the surface, it looks the same—how the night is playing out. But it’s different. In all the ways he doesn’t want to put his finger on, and doesn’t want to acknowledge. Not as you order food, not as you chew the inside of your cheek as you wait for the order to be accepted.
Even less so when you mumble about the film, reaching for your remotes.
It's then he decides what he wants to do is take the remote from your hand as soon as you pick it up. Frankie wants to hold your fingers in his, even place a kiss on your wrist. He wants to place two fingers under your chin, and ask you again to tell him what has happened—wanting to be let him in, be shared with.
He wants you close, and not like friends do. A need to have your head to his chest, his fingers sliding gentle strokes against your cheek and neck, offering comfort, providing it in plenty.
His own head turns the options over, planning it out, trying to guess what the various outcomes are. Which, by the time he reacts, instead of managing to grasp your hand, he knocks the remote from your hand with a clatter.
Ears burning, he feels your glare before he truly appreciates it. It ripples out over him before it’s blinked away—a momentary flood of fire licking at his skin.
In the oddest way, it’s at least reminiscent of the person he knows. The sharpness in your eyes is more a friend to him right now than the gnawing going on in his chest. Especially, while the rest of you is lost to whatever you’re trying to pretend doesn’t exist.
“What?”
It’s simple, one word.
Almost feels normal. It's all sharp and layered, just like it usually is. Followed by your body sinking into the array of cushions you decorate your sofa with as you pull up his pick, rolling your head to him—nail-picking at the battery cover on your remote.
And he wants to ask again—just like he always would have done.
Instead, Frankie places his hand on your knee, thumb and index swirling over the cloth-covered bone as you look at the television briefly, before flicking back to him.
In the silence, it’s louder—the whistling. It's suddenly accompanied by the noticeable noise of your brain whirring, your cogs turning.
“Talk to me,” he whispers, but secretly he's pleading, begging.
He watches as your teeth pick at your lip, snuggling yourself further into the couch—knee abutting his leg as you sigh. “It's... nothing. Can we... can we just watch the movie?”
“Hey, of course we can. Is…”
He can't ask.
Fearful of asking. A lump forms in his throat, sticking, thickening second by second as he flicks his eyes over you.
Before you can blink it away, he spots it again. The shift in your eyes.
This time instead of a shadow, they fill with water. They vanish any part of your truth that wished to escape in its drowning. Before he can poke and push, you blink it away as quickly as it had first arrived.
And it needles him, pricks at his skin and stabs into his chest, twisting and twisting and twisting—
“I just… wanted my best friend,” you mumble.
“That it?”
You seem to fight it, whatever it is inside of you, before you curl against his arm again, tugging your blanket up closer. “I really missed you this week, that's all.”
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It’s been on his to-watch list for ages, and yet he’s one hour into it and he has no clue what is happening.
The pizza box is still half-open on the coffee table, your plate still remaining with picked-at food that you never really made any dent in, and he blames that as to why he doesn’t even know who the good guy is and who is bad.
Because all of the parts of his brain that usually begin working on undoing and arranging what he thinks will and is happening, are working in overdrive on you.
It's also stopping his heart from hammering even louder down your ear. Because, even if the two of you have cuddled before—lots of times—it's not been post the whole sleeping together thing.
And, it feels nice having you against him, normal, right.
He likes the way your fingers occasionally clutch him a little closer, head turned in the direction of the television and the movie he should be watching.
Instead, he's piecing together the puzzle you've thrown on the floor. The one without the box lid, so no image to compare it to. Trying to assess where you missing him, lines up with the way your bottom lip almost wobbled as you confessed it, as though it was a sin and not a virtue.
Frankie tries to line it up with the fact he knows whenever he's found a moment to himself, he’s texted you. The sea of other unread messages piling up, collecting.
It adds to the knowledge that all of the normal conversation he has with you, quickly derails, slipping into something foreign yet wonderful. Casual phone calls, divert into him with his hand around his cock, listening to you breathlessly say his name and that you wish he was there.
And that somewhere between collecting the sweet noises you make and those innocent-but-not-innocent moments, are the soft moments he has where you’re resting—where Frankie has realised, decided and accepted, that there is nowhere else he likes being.
Not a single place.
Because he wants this.
Frankie wants the calmer person he is when he's around you, the thoughts which are less intrusive. He likes that the rain barely bothers him when he has you in his arms, that he doesn’t even overthink, if anything he just plans. Considering things, turning them over, thinking of a future that begins to sketch itself out and colour itself in.
Something which has been doing so since the time in the car.
Your words rolling and rolling, stitching themselves to other phrases you’ve let slip, until he’s sewing things together to create a gallery, a museum of moments he loves admiring and replaying when the world goes silent.
That's when he notices the movie, the shit-show of a plan formed involving a helicopter, and the words roll from him without stopping.
"That would never fuckin' happen. Not—can you imagine, if I said to you—" and he rambles. Feels himself doing so. So comfortable and at ease more and more things just flow and fall from his lips.
Even when the scene changes in the movie, more bright light than the softer one from before, forcing him to blink—he is still detailing how inaccurate it is. Only slowing to nothing when he realises you’re looking up at him. Hanging on to every word as though he's a poet reading something beautiful.
He feels the way they tracing him then, lightly glazing over all his features as he slowly holds your stare.
Because it’s the kind of gaze he sees in the movies you make him watch. The lingering ones—a blend of both fiery and craving. It all peppered with yearning, and swirling in so much he suspects you don’t want to say.
“You’re going to miss the movie.”
Blinking, you smile. Feeling you flick your eyes from him to his mouth. “Am I?”
Your smile slides further into your cheek, and he can’t help but brush his thumb over it. A dire need to touch you, brush your soft skin and remind himself how you feel.
He doesn’t expect it, but he likes that you curl into his hand. It allows him to trace his fingers along your jaw, down the side of your neck. Half-expecting you to tell him to stop, that tonight isn’t about that.
You don’t.
Instead, your hand cups his against your cheek, staring at him, lit up by the flickering scenes neither of you are paying attention to.
Faintly, blooming out in the shimmer of your eyes, he thinks he sees it again—what he thinks is adoration. It mixing, blending, swirling with care, love…
“Thought you wanted your best friend?”
“I do,” you say, low, just above a whisper, “So, take care of me.”
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A second passes as your words drip into the air.
So take care of me.
His eyes flick over you. Likely needing you to say it again, give permission, tell him you want this.
You do. Fuck you do.
Your heart hammering against your chest like a drum because of it. All unable to speak, fearful, fucking petrified, with how much you want him.
Because all you do is want him, and if you speak, you worry you won’t stop telling him that.
Let it fall, leak. Slip out and stain like oil on a sheet.
Because you know it's only normal to miss him this much for one reason, and one reason alone. It's the same reason why you want him, crave him, and feel so desperate for him that you can’t think or breathe. It is all-encompassing, looming, forever there in between the days you don't see him and the waiting on replies to texts.
It’s so close to your tongue, held back only by your teeth.
It could come out, could escape. So you keep your mouth clamped shut. It is better, easier, and less bothersome than telling him you’ve been counting down the hours, minutes, and seconds until you could have your hands on him. Not for this, not because he makes you feel good and beautiful and wanted, but because you feel better. Happier. More you. You feel safe, like no bad work day could ever touch you.
“Querida…”
“I want y—”
The rest of your words are swallowed, stolen. Frankie seals his mouth over yours, barely needing a sentence, just enough.
And it’s searing, full of ache as his hands pull you close, your body singing, itching to come alive—has been since the scent of just him hit your nose.
The worst of days doesn’t matter when he’s around you, less so when his lips marry to yours, when he licks into your mouth, when he breathes you in, and you breathe him.
No one else has ever made you feel like he does.
Not the way your feet almost kick out when his message arrives, a smile gracing your mouth without control when he calls you.
Because he’s different, but then he always has been.
There's always been something, it thriving and growing, embedding vines you pretend are just because you're good friends. But you know, you do. It's hard not to.
Frankie saves you, oblivious to the silent plea for rescue—he just knows. He gets you. Understands every inch of you now, you're unsure how anyone else can ever read you as well. He's someone you could confidently rely on, knowing he’d never leave you alone, not even in the dark—forever a light, a way home.
You think you’re that for him too. Hope so anyway.
He moans your name. Kissing you like he never wishes to stop. He acts like he wants to drown in you, be overflowed by you, and fuck you want the same.
Mine. That’s what you want to say.
Instead, you bury it in a low moan when his mouth captures yours, tongue sliding past your teeth as his hands come to rest on your cheeks. Each touch softer, gentler—from the way he moves his fingers over your cheek, to the way he slides them over your jaw, landing on your neck.
Then, his mouth comes to your ear, breath dancing, all flooded with the flickering television—let’s go to your bed.
He doesn’t rip, he peels your layers off, leaving a trail leading right to your room. He smothers your body with his, his palm remaining flat to your spine, leading, hooking his fingers around the back of your neck as he steers you.
Careful, hermosa.
The consideration dripping from his lips like syrup, all adorned in affection, a taste you have to capture, spinning in his hold, hooking your arms around his neck as you pull him flush, close.
“Tell me you want me,” he hisses.
There's an edge that isn’t usually there but it’s pounding now, all sparkling and fucking shimmering.
You’re more sure of it when he lies you back on your sheets, his mouth exploring, taking his time, taking you to the edge with his mouth as you plead and plead—one hand sliding up over the softness of your stomach, as your back arches into him.
And you shudder, so close to your high—hips held down by his arm. “I want you, Frankie. Always want you. Want you inside of me.”
He pauses—cool air blowing over you as he flicks his eyes up from between your thighs, his skin flushes, a light beading of sweat at his hairline as he comes up onto his palms.
Watching him crawl up you, eyes enamoured, unable to look anywhere else even if they were commanded to. Because he’s more than a sight for sore eyes, he is the sight. He’s the best-looking thing you’ve ever fucking seen, clutching his face in your hands, feeling him drag the head of his cock through your slick walls, staring at you in waiting, like he couldn’t believe this is happening.
“Again,” he asks.
Taking your hand in his, he slots his fingers between yours, fitting, ever so perfectly, before he places your conjoined hands above your head. Eyes tracing up and down your frame, more so as you arch into him, hearing the breathed-out expletive as you wait for his stare to land.
“I want you.”
And, thankfully, Frankie doesn’t let you linger on it. Doesn’t allow you to hyper-focus on it, slowly sliding in, pushing in by inch until you’re full of just him—no more of him left that you can greedily take.
“Always take me so well, baby—“
“Frankie.”
You’re breathless. The air punched from your lungs—his hand remaining knotted in yours, grounding, your nails digging into his skin as his other hand finds a place on the back of your thigh, eyes dropping, all fixated on where the two of you are joined.
“Y'so good for me. Always so good for me,” he adds when his hips are flush with yours. “Take my cock so well.”
Letting his gaze return to you, you’re suddenly so grateful for the bedside lamp you’d left on hours ago because now you get to see him. Admire him, so much so, it makes your throat dry.
Able to watch his muscles contort when he moves, lips parting as he slowly cants his hips into yours, all deep strokes.
And, you know it’s still fucking, but it’s also not.
It’s a unique blend of need that feels right, and also wrong—lips messily finding yours, burying confessions as you eagerly swallow them.
Hoping your throat, lungs or stomach could begin to decipher them as you feel his hand slide down your wrist, and arm until it's cupping your face. His lips slide over your cheek, resting close to your ear, whispering compliments. Because he has to tell you that you’re gorgeous, he says; that you're always so stunning.
Each word that lands has more than an effect on you, as he stutters when you clench around him.
Mouth wrapped around an exclamation of his name as he slides out and sinks back into you.
Frankie has always felt big, but from this angle, like this—he’s somehow deeper, filling you more. He's in your soul. It all filthy and romantic and obscene, but it feels so good, makes heat bloom through your hips and up into your spine, it twisting, eroding the bad day, the bad week.
In a sense, he’s the perfect antidote. A person you trust, care for, lo—
“You’re perfect, you know that?”
Frankie’s hand slides back to grip yours, pressing it down—lightly against the pillow above you, before placing the other beside it. And he’s enveloped in part shadows and the light from the table, blessed in golden hues, giving just enough to see how wild his eyes are and how deep the brown in them goes, how blown his pupils are.
“Do you know how beautiful you look right now?”
You feel your cheeks warm, your ears—every bit of skin on show suddenly inflamed because of his words. His mouth lapping at your breasts, all arched into him, hips steadily meeting his.
“Always are, really.”
“Well. You’re handsome, Morales.”
It’s intentional, adding his surname. Taking the softness out of it, removing what you can, and adding barriers and throwing up walls.
He still sucks in a breath, eyes lingering on yours, fingers dropping to brush a line up and down your cheek as he continues to slide his cock in and out of you. You moan as the head of him keeps kissing that part deep inside you.
It’s different.
You know it; he likely does too. Thankful he slants his mouth over yours. Slowly rocking with you, thrusting into you as you murmur his name, it falling enriched in moans.
From the way you both kiss, to the way you keep an arm around his neck, desperate to keep as much of him against yours.
“You feel so good, Frankie.” Your fingers scratch at the base of his neck. “Always make me feel so full.”
Stuffed really. Packed in. Clenching around him, all tightening, purposefully wrapping your walls around him until he groans right into your ear. Each drag of his cock in and out feeling exquisite, perfect, amazing.
It’s never been like this with others, never been like this even with him. His fucked out face, the grunts and groans coming from deep within make your thighs unable to stop their twitching as fire floods up your spine and the way he plunges you in lust-filled brown.
And you clutch his face, feverish from him, quivering, shaking. Burying the words, “So close, I’m gonna—fuck, I’m close baby,” against his mouth.
Pressing each letter in, stamping it—ensuring he knows it’s him doing this to you. Making a mess of you. The only person you ever want to make a mess out of you.
It thumping inside of you, hammering—all balled up fists and desperation because you want to tell him. Shout it at him. Paint the walls in it as he paints yours in white.
“Need you, Frankie.”
It’s close to the truth. Barely an inch from it.
“I know, need you too. Need to feel you come around me, hermosa. I need it, please. Please give it to me. Let me feel—fuck—feel you coming around my cock.”
And you hear it, the way he pleads—as well as realise the double meaning. You in the car, whispering words so close to the ones he’s spilling now.
“I will if you stay.”
He doesn’t still, but he does jolt. A hesitation in his pistoning.
Then he drops to his elbows around your face, cradling you, caging you in, as he kisses you—sloppily, messily, sweetly. It’s soft, but also full of heavy moans he wishes to force down your throat. It’s indulgent, a thing you never thought you’d have so now you take as much of it as you can get.
“Course I’ll stay. Never—fuck—anywhere I want to be but here, baby. Nowhere else.”
His eyes fix on you, digging the words in.
And, even if you knew it before, you realise how under your skin he is. How he’s woven in around tendons and ligaments, found a home, left marks against your bones you never want to rid.
You’re sure it’s that and not the words which make everything else mute.
Even if it’s all you can hear. Not the television in the other room, not the headboard clattering against the wall, not the sounds you’re making each time he drags his cock through your walls.
Just his words. Whatever he blesses you in. Your thoughts are all incoherent other than that. All shaky, practically vibrating; all gasping and torturous heavy heat, all unable to breathe and yet never wanting any of this to stop.
His hand slides around your thigh, pulling on your knee, bringing it closer as his grip almost grows bruising on you. He’s deep. Fucking into you so hard, hearing the concoction of his hisses, gasps and moans, before his mouth lands back on yours.
It’s overwhelming. The height you’ve reached, the way your mouth is only able to say his name as you watch him lick his thumb and distinctly feel it slide between the two of you. Finding it. Barely struggling to press the pad of it to your bundle of nerves before you lock up, the knot tightening, almost ripping inside of you.
It fraying from how much you’re fighting it, so close to bursting—
Then he draws quicker circles, all persistent, expertly, and you snap.
It surging, all white-hot, all blistering and mind-melting. You become both light and heavy all at once, your nails finding purpose in his side and your sheets, twisting, knotting to root yourself in this, in him—in how much you fucking love him.
“Fuck, querida—that’s it.”
You can’t respond, can’t even think up a response, but you do yank his mouth to yours. Pressing those three words there, laying them down, as well as thanking him, over and over until you slide your mouth against his cheek.
“Be good for me now, Frankie.”
His eyes flick to you, all ablaze and engulfed in want. And so you nod, knowing he can see it, feel it.
“Look so good, baby,” you add.
The noise is strained that comes from him, all sucked in breath. Then, his hips stammer, convulsing, all strangled, tightly entangled in a mess of your name and fuck.
And you kiss him.
Happily licking into his mouth to taste how delicious his moan is.
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You try to fight the way your heart drops when you return from using the bathroom. Biting the inside of your mouth as you see the bed empty, sheets a mess, your throat swallowing back whatever sob wishes to escape.
Because the edges of your happiness crumble, your arm wrapping around the other, bottom lip almost wobbling.
That is, until you feel his hand on your lower back. Your head turns quickly, seeing him there. All hair-wild, and soft smile.
“Water, baby?”
Smiling, you thank him, taking several sips before handing it back to him, watching him do the same. Studying the way his throat bobs as he does, the faint marks of your mouth still lingering there on his skin.
“C’mon,” he whispers, kissing your cheek. “Let’s get in bed.”
“Oh, but the—“
“I’ve sorted it. Turned it off—folded the blanket, put the plates in water.” His hand wraps itself around yours. “So, let’s sleep.”
All you can muster is an okay. It leaves soft, slightly webbed at the edges from the way it catches on the growing lump in your throat.
It isn’t until you’re curled against him,
“Is this okay?” you whisper.
He lets out a laugh, little and breathy. “More than okay, hermosa.”
Guiding your leg to hook over his. Keeping his body flush as the two of you cuddle. His thumb swipes across your cheek, forehead close to yours as his fingers fan out over your hip, and he presses a kiss to the space between your brows.
You’re pretty sure your heart just tripled in size.
And those three words, the ones which have amassed into a chunk in your chest have suddenly begun pulsing all on their own—a beat completely separate, you find, to the one which pumps blood around your body.
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CHAPTER EIGHT ->
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primroseparker · 2 years
Note
hi hi!! how about some eddie angst where reader and him fight and he thinks it’s a small fight that’ll blow over, but after a few days of silence from reader he starts to panic thinking it’s the end of the relationship so he starts frantically apologizing and trying to make it right lol
Broken Promises || Eddie Munson x female!reader
Summary: After Eddie breaks his promise, you decide to give him the silent treatment for a few days after your fight. He begins worrying about his relationship with you and forms a plan to make things right with you.
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: angst but fluff at the end
A/N: Hi! Thank you for requesting this, I enjoyed writing it so much!!
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Of course he would forget, you think as you walk along Piney Wood Lane in a hurry. Eddie had promised to give you a ride from school since your car had refused to start this morning. When he first suggested the idea, you were hesitant to agree considering his recent behavior. He had been canceling dates without more than a brief, “I need to go over my next campaign tonight, but I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night!” or “Chrissy and a few other customers are expecting me later after school so I won’t be making it to movie night”
You were quick to reply with a “sure, it’s fine” which turned out to be useless since he was gone before the words had left your lips. At first, you didn’t make much of it because you had always been very understanding of Eddie’s hobbies and side business. You knew just how passionate he was about the Hellfire Club and how much he needed the money he made from his business. An extremely supportive girlfriend is what he called you. Yeah, you were supportive, but you also had your limits.
You agreed to his offer, hoping that he would actually keep it given that you had an important dinner to attend that night. A family dinner in which your sister’s boyfriend would finally pop the question. He had asked you to keep it a secret from everyone, Eddie included. Because of that, the only thing you had told Eddie after accepting his offer was that you had an important family dinner you could not be late to. He took your face in his hands, looked you straight in the eye and said, “I promise I’ll be there, sweetheart” as he gave you a soft kiss on the lips. How could you not believe him after that?
As you open your front door and stomp up the stairs to your room, tears begin falling down your cheeks. You frantically open your drawers to look for an outfit, sending shirts and skirts flying across the room. Once dressed for the special occasion, you walk down the stairs and begin setting up the room where the proposal would take place. You keep thinking about how pissed you are at Eddie as you decorate the living room. A soft knock brings your attention back. You put on a fake smile knowing that if your sister saw how sad you were, she would drop everything to make sure you were okay. As you open the door to greet your sister, you are met with those brown doe eyes that you love so much.
“I’m sorry, y/n,” Eddie says as he approaches you to give you a hug. You put up your hands on his chest to stop him, making it clear that you don’t want to be touched. He takes a step back, surprised by your resistance. “I had to stay late at school because Henderson just got his heart broken. The girl he liked rejected him when he asked her out, and he came to me crying and saying shit about not being worthy of anyone’s love.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” you say as you roll your eyes and cross your arms in a defensive stance. 
“I swear I’m not making it up, alright? You can even ask Wheeler since he was there with me as he too tried to comfort Dustin. I’m not—wait, did you actually walk home all the way from the school? It’s like thirty minutes away from here” he asks.
“Yeah, I did. Thanks for that by the way. You know, if you didn’t want to drive me you should’ve just said so,” you mutter as your eyes begin filling with tears.
“Y/n, please look at me,” Eddie murmurs as puts his hand on your cheek, waiting for you to look at him before he speaking again. “You have no idea how sorry I am for being such a shitty boyfriend these past few weeks. But I swear that I didn’t forget about you. I’ll pick you up every morning and drive you to school. I’ll even cancel all this week’s Fire Club meetings so that I can drive you back home. Forgive me?” he says with apologetic eyes. 
God, you could never deny him anything when he gave you that look. Sure, you were still pissed, but you knew that you didn’t have it in you to continue this fight. You still had to keep it together for your sister’s proposal. 
“Yeah, it’s fine,” you say as you give him a small smile. He returns it and bends down to kiss you. You pull away quickly, saying, “I’m sorry bub, but my family is going to be here any minute for our dinner.”
“Oh sorry, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, alright? Have fun, sweetheart,” he smiles before giving you a quick peck on the lips and heading towards his ‘71 Chevy van. You give him a small wave as he pulls out of your driveway and drives off.
You turn back to your house and close your front door. 
Why do I have to be so stupid? you think as you make the final touch-ups on the decorations. 
I should’ve just told him to go away before slamming the door in his face. It’s like he doesn’t even care about me anymore. Thinking he can make all those broken promises go away by giving me that look of his, you scoff at the thought.
As the evening goes on, your sister’s proposal goes smoothly, just as you and your now future brother-in-law had planned. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time to do your hair and put on your makeup like you wanted to because of Eddie’s broken promise. Because of that, you shied away from taking too many pictures. As the night went on and celebratory drinks were passed around, your sister raved on about how in love she was with her now-fiancee. She talked about how kindhearted he was and how he always kept his promises. You grew more and more irritated as you remembered what Eddie had done. At the end of the night, you decided that you needed time away from him to calm down. You didn’t want to snap at him and turn your conversations into fights. So you made a plan—give him the silent treatment for a few days and then let him know what was bothering you so much. It seemed like a great idea, right?
Eddie makes sure to wake up extra early the next morning so he can be on time to pick you up. He puts a wide smile on his face as he knocks on your front door and waits for you to open it. When no one answers, he decides to knock again, then a third time when it also goes unanswered. Before knocking a fourth time, the door opens and he sees your mom staring at him as she wraps her nightgown around herself. 
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Y/l/n,” he apologizes as his cheeks redden. “I’m supposed to pick up y/n today”
“She already left, Eddie,” your mom says in confusion. “She rode her bike to school this morning”
“I see,” he says, “well, I’m sorry for waking you up. Have a good day” as he heads back to his van. 
He spends the rest of the day in confusion. He waits for you after each period, waits during lunch, and even waits after school, but you never show up. Could something else be wrong? Did you have to go home early because you weren’t feeling well? He decides to go to your house to check up on you, but unlike this morning, no one comes to the door. As the days go by, he begins to worry more about you. If you were sick, surely you would’ve called to let him know, right? 
He spends all night thinking about it before putting everything together. You were tired of Eddie breaking his promises. His apology hadn’t been enough for you to forgive him, apparently. Maybe you were done with him; done with him letting you down time after time. Keeping your distance and silence might be your way of ending things with him, he thinks. Upon realizing this, his heart sinks as he realizes he might have just lost you forever all because he couldn’t put you first. Tears spring to his eyes, his heart breaking in two at the thought of you never speaking to him again. 
I have to make things right, he thinks. I have to prove to her that I’ll never break any of my promises ever again.
As the sun begins to rise, he begins setting up a plan to win you back. 
The next day school seems to drag on forever for both of you. You wanted nothing more than to go home and spend the rest of the day in your bed while you listened to your favorite cassette. Eddie on the other hand couldn’t wait for school to end so he could actually put his plan into action. 
On the way home from school, you rode your bike while thinking about Eddie–wondering what he was up to today, how attractive his grunge look was, how soft his lips were, how good they would feel against your lips…you shake your head as if to clear your mind of anything to do with Eddie. You aren’t sure you are ready to forgive him just yet. 
Then you catch sight of the all too familiar van in your driveway. You come to a stop right next to it, wondering what Eddie was doing at your house. He comes out of the vehicle; a bouquet of white tulips and purple hyacinths in one hand, and a white plastic bag in the other. He gives you a shy smile as he approaches you.
“What are you doing here, Eddie?” you question.
“You deserve an apology,” he sighs, “Actually, you deserve much more than that. I am so sorry, y/n. I know I’ve been putting everyone else before you and it shouldn’t be that way. I know how important promises are to you, yet I was still so careless with mine.”
He puts the bouquet and bag on the ground and takes your hands in his. “I need you to know that my intention was never to make you feel neglected, ignored, or whatever. I’ll do whatever it takes for you to forgive me. I’d be happy to beg if you’d like me to,” he confesses as he gives you that look that would make you forget about everything bad. 
“Be serious, Eddie,” you laugh.
“Oh, I am,” he insists as he begins kneeling before you grab his forearm.
“Stop, you don’t have to do that, you know? Look, I’m sorry for ignoring you these past few days. I’ve just been really pissed at you for canceling on me without more than a half-ass apology.”
“I know and I’m really sorry for that. But you didn’t have to break up with me that way; you could have just told me instead of–”
“What are you talking about, you dork?” you interrupt his babbling. “We’re not broken up. I was just giving you the temporary silent treatment. As if you get rid of me that easily,” you snort with laughter. 
“So you’re not breaking up with me?” he asks with a hopeful smile. 
“No, I’m not.”
“Well that’s a relief,” he says as he lets out a huge breath; body slumping and losing its stiff posture.
“Well, I brought some things to make up for my bad behavior,” Eddie says as he picks up the flowers and bag from the ground. “Here, take a look at them,” he offers as he hands you the gifts. 
“I had to go to the library to do some research, and it turns out white tulips and purple hyacinths represent forgiveness. And since I was hoping you would forgive me, these beautiful flowers seemed perfect for a situation like this one.”
“You, Eddie Munson—the guy always going off about how libraries are a waste of space and are incredibly boring—went to one to research the meaning of each flower?” you ask in surprise. 
He grins, “Anything for my girl,” as he tilts your head up to meet his lips with yours. He pulls back with a wide smile and says, “Come on, look at what’s in the bag” as you open it and look at its contents.
“Pretty in Pink? I thought you hated that movie. Oh my god! Hostess Pudding Pies?!” you ask with wide eyes while grinning so hard your cheeks ache. 
“Yeah well, that movie might not be my favorite but I know for sure that it’s yours. And yes, I bought you those disgusting so-called snacks you love so much too,” he chuckles. 
He puts an arm around your shoulder and leads you to your house. 
“No more broken promises, sweetheart,” he vows as he turns his head to kiss your temple. You giggle and wrap your arms around his waist.
Taglist: @k4makaze @lover4stpt2
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pitconfirm · 18 days
Note
did u say hurt and comfort
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okay... posting this is a bit out of my comfort zone but i will be nice 😇 but beware it was written in one very sad sitting after the race so may be a little... rough. and venty. just 1500 words of strollonso rambling:
Lance often isn’t a creature of nuance, and certainly never of subtlety. There are two distinct sides to him, sharply and overtly separated. He can be loud, cheeky, confident, shameless. That’s the Lance most people know, and most people unduly hate; misinterpreting his behaviour as bratty and petulant. But there’s a flip side—the quiet, self-conscious, shy Lance. That’s the Lance in Fernando’s bed tonight. Well, their bed. Lance’s hotel room is always more of a cover-up than a living space these days. 
They’ve been here before, and Fernando has seen it all—crashes, tears, anger, and apologies. Mostly apologies. Despite whatever bullshit narrative the media might prefer, Lance is sorely self-critical, often to the point of detriment. To the point where he can’t even celebrate his highs because he’s too caught up thinking what more he could’ve done. Every corner, every gear shift, every blink. So, the shyness doesn’t come as much of a surprise tonight. 
Things like these happen. Mistakes and lapses of concentration are a cruel part of racing. But things like these are never just things like these for Lance. His last name cracks open an entirely different can of hatred. The type of bias and cruelty that makes Fernando’s skin burn, hot and angry. He calms himself, keeping his composure for Lance’s sake. 
“Hey, Lancey…” he whispers, kind and gentle; climbing onto the bed after getting back from the debrief that Lance chose not to attend. Lance is sat on top of the sheets and still in his race gear, as though the effort of changing would be too much in his sorrowful state. He gives Fernando nothing but a shy smile, averting his gaze and shuffling uncomfortably under the attention.
“Where are you?” Fernando asks, waving a hand in front of his distant eyes; big, brown, and damp. It snaps Lance back into focus, making eye contact in that way of his—where he tilts his head down and looks up, as if wanting to make himself smaller. He has a terrible habit of making himself out to be less than he truly is. 
“Right here, silly,” he giggles, but it’s not right. It’s a sad and blatantly performative sound—a failed attempt to dissipate Fernando’s concern. To anyone with the gift naivety, it might be convincing, but Fernando knows Lance better than that. He knows the good and the bad; the pride and the guilt. The little things that nobody else sees (except maybe Esteban, but Fernando tries not to think about that bastard too often). 
He takes Lance’s hands in his palms, not missing the slight tremble. “Talk to me,” he says, trying to coax Lance out of his shell of indifference.  It stings, but it’s necessary; like pressing down on a pinprick to stop it from bruising. Burying the pain will only hurt him more in the long run. 
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Lance shrugs, sweetly stubborn. He turns away and pulls his hands from Fernando’s grasp, and Fernando tries his best not to take it personally. “Besides, I probably wouldn’t have scored points, anyway.” 
“Ay!” Fernando gasps suddenly, face serious. He grabs the hands back more firmly this time—he can be stubborn, too. “You don’t talk like that. Not to me.” 
“Like what?” Lance giggles again, nervously, breathily; his eyes caught on their hands where they’re trapped together on Fernando’s thigh. “I’m just being realistic. It’s what everybody says.” 
Fernando feels the bitter rage bubble again. “What who says?” he asks intensely while squeezing Lance’s hands tighter. Compliantly, Lance lets it happen; hands loose but unmoving in Fernando’s palms. 
“Y’know…” he drawls, disappointedly casting his gaze to the phone discarded beside him on the bed. “Everybody.” 
Fernando sighs internally; trying not to roll his eyes lest Lance interprets it the wrong way. He lets go of his hands to grab the item, quickly typing in Lance’s password. On the screen is the last thing Lance was looking at—searching his fucking name on Twitter. Idiot. It’s all cruel, and brutal; full of every nasty word that can spit on Lance’s identity. 
“You need to delete this silly app. Full of people who don’t know what they’re saying…” he mutters, shaking his head and taking the initiative to delete it himself. He dreads the thought of all of his own ‘fans’ tearing Lance apart, as if he and Lance aren’t one and the same nowadays. An inseparable entity. 
“It’s the same on every fucking app,” Lance says. He sounds annoyed, but at least that’s better than hiding himself away. “You can look on Instagram, or TikTok, or—”
Fernando gently grabs Lance’s jaw, tilting his face to force eye contact. “Then just look at me, yes? Nothing else. Just me, and you.” 
He stares Lance down, watching him try to battle away the pain. Lance always does these tiny movements with his face that give everything away; nervous flicks of his eyes and sad twitches of his brows. There’s another attempt at a smile, but after a few moments, his facade cracks and quickly morphs into a frown. A sad, broken look; brows furrowing more and more until he chokes on a sob. The floodgates open, and like the flick of a switch, the sob turns into wet, hurried cries. 
“Shhh,” Fernando soothes, quickly wrapping both arms around Lance and pulling him into his chest—making him feel small like he needs to sometimes. “It’s okay…” he whispers, stroking a hand up and down Lance’s sweat-sticky back, heaving with uneven cries. “You are okay.” 
Lance shakes his head against Fernando’s neck, tears damp on his skin.
“No? Not okay?”
At that, he nods; a wordless but sincere admission.
“Okay. That’s okay.” 
Fernando sits through it with him, holding him tight until the rapid, shameful sobs turn into slow chokes, then into quiet sniffles. The shake in his body slows to a slight tremble, like the purr of a cat, but certainly not so pleasant. More like a shivering kitten left out in the cold. 
“Let’s get you out of these clothes, yes?” he whispers against Lance’s ear, tugging at his race gear. Lance nods with another wet sniffle, pulling away from Fernando’s neck to look him in the eye. Fernando could cry himself at the sight of him—all wet eyes and red cheeks, broken by the unfairness of a sport that doesn’t love him like he deserves. It doesn’t love him like Fernando does. 
He tugs Lance around like an oversized dog that thinks it’s still a puppy, defying his stature to half-carry him to the bathroom. Lance is still distant, too tired to put up any fuss as Fernando sits him on the edge of the tub and undresses him piece by piece; whispering praise and gently kissing his skin as he goes until Lance is bare and shivering. 
“Stand for me, baby,” he requests. It takes Lance a moment to register what he’s heard, but once he gets it, he stands up immediately on two wobbly legs; always so eager to please, even in moments like these. It hurts, knowing how desperately Lance wants to be good, and how a race like this makes him feel like he isn’t. But he’ll always be good—always Fernando’s good boy. So good that it doesn’t make sense why he’d want a cruel and tainted man like Fernando in the first place. 
They shower, warm and steamy, with most of Lance’s weight resting on Fernando. But Fernando holds him, despite his own body being lethargic from the race. He massages Lance’s shoulders, and his flat chest where the impact of the seatbelts must ache from the crash. It’s part of the sport—it’s what they sign up for—but now, being with Lance, Fernando understands why his parents get so concerned every time he gets in the car. Every bump and collision of Lance’s makes Fernando consider turning to religion just to pray for him to get out in one piece.
“I’m sorry,” Lance whispers later; sitting on the bed as Fernando towel dries his hair. It’s longer now than it has been since they got together, curling up at his nape and getting caught in his eyes. Fernando brushes it away for him with a gentle, affirmative pat on the cheek. 
“What you are sorry for?” he asks, stroking Lance’s jaw; a thumb rubbing back and forth on his pouty bottom lip. 
“I shouldn’t be so…” he looks away, embarrassed. “Weak. Didn’t wanna bother you.”
Weak is the last word Fernando thinks of when he looks at Lance. He sees commitment—Lance’s hunger to succeed and pain when he loses. But never weakness. No, Lance might be the strongest man Fernando knows. 
“Lance… the only thing that bothers me is when you lie to me. When you pretend you are okay,” he says with a degree of honesty he never knew he was capable of. It feels like Lance was put on earth to bring these things out of him—the good he didn’t know was there, nestled under his sheath of utter badness. “I would do this every day if I needed to.” 
“Yeah?” Lance asks—quiet, melodic, and tender. A smile perks back on his face, small and hardly there, but there nonetheless. A real smile this time. 
“Yeah. Anything you need.” 
The smile grows, and Fernando knows they’ll be alright. Lance will come back stronger like he always does. Like the perfect boy he is. 
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