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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 1 year

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𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐮𝐩 • 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐚𝐦

SUMMARY: Jude says some disgusting things during an argument which results in you leaving for some space. Maybe you'll makeup...

GENRE: angst, smut

WARNING: angst, kinda some fighting, NSFW, cunilingus, intercourse (no protection. Wrap it up irl tho), cursing

PAIRING: Jude Bellingham x f reader

Request?: Yes

WORD COUNT: 3.1k

AUTHOR NOTE: Reader is from England but she can honestly be any background

My master list is coming soon don't worry

Not proof read

Don't repost my work or I'll snap you into two

Enjoy

Fights were rare between you two, but when they happened, they weren’t pretty. That was the case tonight.

The door slammed shut after Jude walked out of your shared house. A couple of minutes ago you both were arguing. It started with Jude thinking you were getting too close to a guy at the bar you were both at earlier that night but you weren’t at all. you were simply being friendly. The only person you had eyes for was Jude and only Jude. He didn’t see it like that though.

He spent the passed 30 minutes grilling you, not letting you get many words out. Many many insults were thrown around, many you wish he didn’t say to you.

“you’re a whore.”

“I wish I didn’t fucking meet. You mean nothing to me”

“You aren’t fucking loyal, I should have known not to go out with someone like you.”

In the end of it all, Jude stormed out saying how he needed space to cool down before he said something he regretted. But it was too fucking late for that. He said enough. You weren’t going to stick around for someone who verbally abused you like he’s just done. You had to leave even if it hurts to.

The tears running down your cheeks were hot. You sniffled, wiping them away with the back of your sleeve while you shoved clothes of yours into your suitcase. Your hands were trembling from the anxiety you were having. Jude’s words ringing in your head. “you mean nothing to me.”

Deep down you know he didn’t mean it, but it still hurts hearing him say it. You’ve spent 3 years with Jude. You moved countries, giving up your dream job just to be with and support his career. Why couldn’t he realize that you’ve done everything for him and his happiness.

You zipped up the suitcase and stood up. Before you left the closet you pulled off the hoodie you were wearing and tossed it onto the floor. It was Jude’s hoodie he let you borrow. You didn’t feel comfortable in it anymore.

You walked out of the closet and to the bed taking a seat and pulling out your phone. This was the bed you both shared countless nights on. You tried not to think about all those little moments you had in it with jude. It was too painful to think about.

Grabbing the handle of your suitcase you walked out of the room before you could change your mind. The Uber you called a couple of minutes earlier had arrived just in time. You placed your suitcase in the trunk before slipping into the backseat.

“where to miss?” the driver asked, looking at you in the review mirror. Choking back your tears you answered her. “to the airport.”

Jude opened the door to your home. He was finally cooled down after walking for a few minutes. He was ready to talk.

The truth was he regretted the things he said to you. He didn’t wish he never met you. You were the Greatest thing to ever happen to him. He let his stupid thoughts get to him and they made him slip up and say things he wasn’t supposed to. He needed to apologize to you and make things right.

Jude reached the top of the stairs and opened the door to your bedroom. He was expecting to see you curled up under the blanket, but you weren’t.

“Baby?”

Frowning he walked over to the bathroom peaking in to see if you were there. You weren’t of course. Jude was starting to panic. Did you really leave him? He thought to himself. This was his worse fucking nightmare.

Jude walked over to the closet and there it was. He was meet with the sight of clothes everywhere on the floor and a big gap where your clothes once were.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!” Jude mumbled. He ripped his phone out of his pocket quickly dialing your number. The phone rung a couple of times before going to voicemail. Jude tried a couple more times, but it was no use you weren’t going to pick up.

He fucked up big and he knew it.

You watched as your phone rung a couple of times from Jude. It pained you to not answer them but you knew you couldn’t. You needed to show how much he hurt you. You needed space.

Once at the airport you put your phone on silence and got out of the car with your suitcase. You got a flight back to England so that’s where you were heading.

There wasn’t a delay so you were on your flight in no time. Here you were on your way out of Germany leaving the love of your life behind. Will you regret this? Probably! But fuck did it feel right, right now.

Three days had passed since that night. Since you lost spoke to Jude. You were currently crashing at a friends place since you had nowhere else to go at the moment.

You couldn’t even lie, you were miserable with out Jude. You missed his kisses, him grabbing your waist as you cooked something, his pretty smile. You fucking missed it like crazy.

But you weren’t missing it as much as Jude was missing it. God he fucking missed you bad. He called and text countless times over the passed few days but it was no use. You weren’t picking up anything.

Jude knew he had to make this right with you. He couldn’t live without you. It was fucking him up.

Today Jude had a game before he came back home to England. Even though you were pissed at him you couldn’t help but watch his game.

Right away you can tell his mood was off after his last few days. He wasn’t doing all the hot things he always did when out on the field before the game. He had a tense frown on his face whenever the camera zoomed in on him. The actual game was no better. He was fucking up passes and getting more aggressive towards the other players leading him to getting a yellow.

You felt a little bad. You hated that his performance on the field wasn’t good because of you, but he had to learn that his words cut deep.

After the game you switched off the TV and headed to bed. You climbed under the sheets getting cozy.

As you did your last minute scrolling through your phone. A notification popped up on your phone catching your attention. You were about to swipe it away thinking it’s Jude but it wasn’t . It was actually his mom, Denise.

You and her were very close ever since you started dating Jude. She was like a second mom to you, always giving you advice and helping you out the best she could.

Denise:

Dear, what happened between you and Jude? Every time I mention your name he would get mad and storm off.

Quickly you text her back telling her everything.

You:

me and Jude are kinda going through somethings right now. He said some hurtful things like calling me a whore and left so I left too. Now I’m in England. I just needed space

Your phone fell on your chest after you sent that. Now his mom was involved in your relationship problems. She shouldn’t have to be but here you were.

Your notification went off causing you to pick up your phone.

Denise:

I’m sorry honey. I’ll talk to him. Maybe when we come back to England you both can fix whatever is going on.

You thanked her, turning your phone on silent before falling asleep.

Two weeks passed and it was the day Jude was coming home to England. You were kinda nervous. You promised yourself you would talk to him.

Around 12pm you decided to finally text him so you both could meet up and talk about what happened.

You:

Do you wanna talk?

You cringed at the dry text you just sent, but brushed it off when you saw how fast Jude texted you back.

Jude:

“yeah!

You:

Ok meet me at our old spot behind the field ❤️

You added a little heart not really thinking much of it, but to Jude that was major. A few days before he had got a good lecture from Denise about his words. She wasn’t happy about any of it. Even though Jude knew he fucked up he felt like he deserved that scolding he got from his mother. He shouldn’t have said the things he said.

Now he has a chance to really apologize to you and make things right.

Jude walked down stairs tucking his phone in his pocket. He slipped on his shoes before slipping out the door.

He made it to the spot before you seeing how close he was to it. It was a small field he used to play on, that’s where you caught his eyes for the first time.

Jude waited a good 5 minutes before you arrived. You walked up to him and he swear his breath got caught in his throat.

You sat down beside him.

“Hi.” You squeaked out as you avoided his gaze.

“Hi.. how have you been?” Jude asked you. “I’ve been ok. Been better.” You let out a small chuckle but not an amusing one.

Baby, I’m sorry.”

You finally looked at him and you wished you didn’t . He soft eyes filled with so much regret made you want to forgive him so quickly.

“I messed up. I called you shit you didn’t deserve. I said things I know I shouldn’t have said and I regret them and I know sorry isn’t going to cut it but just know I am ok.”

Jude reached over and took your hand from your thigh and intertwined it with his. The fact you didn’t pull away made him feel a happiness he hadn’t felt all week.

“ Jude you fucked up. You really fucked up. Your words hurt me deeply…” you sighed before continuing. “but I forgive you.”

“I wanna kiss you so bad.” Jude mumbled, his Burmmie accent thick. His eyes flickered from your eyes to your lips. He really wanted to kiss you.

“im not stopping you Jude.”

Jude smirked. He grabbed your face kissing you. Two weeks without your lips caused him to kiss you hard. Teeth grazing each other’s, tongue meeting for a second as he kissed you harder.

Your fingers grabbed his shirt as you pulled him impossibly close to you. You missed him so fucking much. It’s kind of crazy how much you craved him. He was your drug.

Jude pulled away from you. His lips were red from your previous action making you laugh.

“come back to my house. I need you.” Instantly you knew what he was talking about by the smirk on his face.

“fine, but you’re coming over to mine. I’m not doing it with your parents home.”

You stood up, Jude following your actions. You both began your short journey to where you were staying at.

You both couldn’t walk faster than you were. It’s embarrassing how much you needed each other.

As soon as your front door closed Jude had your back against the wall. His hand gripped your waist pulling you against his hard on.

You moaned into his mouth, tongue fighting his for dominance. Ultimately Jude won of course. Even though you loved kissing Jude you needed more of him.

“Jude” you pulled away breathlessly. Jude lips fell to your jaw placing wet kisses there down to your chest. “Jude, I need you to fuck me.”

Jude pulled away from you and looked at you.

“Want me to fuck you huh?” all you could do is nod your head. Your sex ached for his touch, you needed him.

Jude lips hovered over yours “ok well you need to lead the way because I don’t know shit about this house.”

You snorted but took his hand guiding him to your room. Once inside the room Jude pushed you on to the bed. He slotted himself in between your legs then kissing you. You started to make work at his shirt, pulling it by the bottom so you could remove it.

“desperate aren’t you?”

You groaned. “shut up and take off the damn shirt.” Jude laughed before pulling his shirt off and tossing it somewhere across the room. His ab were now on full display making you pulse around nothing.

“now your turn,” Jude put his hand under your top, coming in contact with your bare breast. You were so happy you decided to ditch the bra. “take this shit off.”

No time was wasted as you pulled off the shirt. While you were at it you took off your jeans and so did Jude. You were both now only in your underwear.

Jude’s lips found your nipple, tongue insulting the sensitive bid making you moan. It didn’t help that Jude slid his hand down your panties and drew small circles on your cloth clit. You bucked Your hip up hoping to feel more but Jude hovered his hand over your sex so you couldn’t be satisfied.

“Jude!” You whined. Jude released your nipple from his mouth and muttered a fine. Jude climbed off the bed to the edge where he kneeled down. By your ankles, Jude pulled you down so that your wet cunt was reachable for him.

Soft kisses were placed on your inner thighs. Closer and closer Jude came to your pussy. Each time he did your breath hitched. You watched as Jude did his thing. He was enjoying this a lot. As he should.

His fingers fell under the waistband of your panties. With a tug they were off leaving you completely nude.

No time was wasted. Jude tongue softly came in contact with your clitoris making you moan softly. Jude kept going, drawing circling over your clit and lapping at your fold.

Your hands found their place on Jude’s head. Your back arched off the bed.

“fuck right there.” You cried out. Your loud moans filled the room. You were happy you were here instead of Jude’s house. There’s no way you would be able to hide what he is doing to you.

Jude tongue slipped into your hole before trailing back up to your bundle of nerve. He grunted at your taste. You were sweet like honey. He could be buried in this pussy for the rest of his life if he could.

“Shit Jude you’re going to make me cum.”

Jude didn’t stop after you said that. Instead he kept going faster. Few minutes later you were seeing white flashes as you came. Jude grip on your thigh was tight and he didn’t stop his movement in your pussy.

You were at the point where you were getting overstimulated.

“ok ok stop. I’m sensitive.”

Jude chuckled in between your legs. He lifted his head up giving you relief.

He placed a kiss on your tummy Before he came back up to your lips. His kiss was hungry, desperate if I may say. You could taste yourself on his lips making you moan.

“want me to fuck you huh? Want me in that wet pussy hm?”

All you could do is nod. Words couldn’t come to the surface as you watched Jude pull off his boxers and releasing his hard cock.

Jude stroked himself a couple of times. He wrapped his hand around your thigh, he lined up with your entrance.

Slowly he pushed into you stretching your walls. Jude’s eyes stayed on yours as he got deeper and deeper inside of you. You bite back a moan. You were starting to get nervous under his gaze. You both had sex plenty of Times but this time felt different. Maybe it was because of your argument or those days you spent apart from one another, but this felt different.

You creased the nape of Jude’s head. He was fully in you now.

“Can I move?” he asked at a whisper. “yes. Please move.”

Jude’s cock pulled out of you then slamming back into you effortlessly due to how wet you were. At first it felt painful but eventually it spiraled into pleasure.

Your moaned a fuck. Your toes curled at the feeling of him stretching your walls over and over again.

Jude face was now buried in your neck leaving kisses that was sure to leave hickeys.

“Baby you feel so good.”

“Yeah? You Like my cock in your pussy? I love being in this pussy, always so tight fo me.”

Jude lifted his head. A string of curse words left his lips as he drilled into you. You could have swore you were seeing stars. The amount of times he was hitting your g spot was driving you crazy. It sure didn’t help when he put your legs around his waist making a new angle.

You cried(more like screamed) out Jude’s name. You looked down in between you both watching as he entered you at lightning speed.

The burn in your lower stomach was starting to grow more and more as he fucked you harder. You orgasm was approaching.

Jude grunted as he felt your walls tighten around him. “your going to cum baby?”

You nodded.

“use your words.” Jude took your jaw in his face forcing your eyes on him. It made you pulse around him. “I said are you going to cum?”

“Yes.. shit! I’m going to cum. Please let me cum.”

Jude smirked at your pleading. He let go of your jaw and found your clitoris. Fast, he drew circles over it and that was all it took for you to orgasm.

You moaned loud as you threw your head back and arched your back. Jude wasn’t far behind, emptying his load into you.

He pulled out of you, rushing to the connected bathroom to get a towel and wipe you off. When he was done he laid down beside you on the bed.

“im sorry again.”

“jude I know. You’re apologize has been accepted especially since you gave me some orgasms.”

He snorted at your words.

He got up out the bed and began putting his clothes back on.

“my mom is making dinner tonight. You want to come over?”

“fuck yes. I miss your mom.”

Jude rolled his eyes as he pulled up his jeans. “but you miss me more right?”

You sucked in your breath. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

After you and Jude got dressed you both went over to his house. His mom was excited to see you both back together and most importantly the smile on Jude’s face.

At the end of the night you and Jude fell asleep in each other’s arms. It felt so good to be back in your man’s arms.

#Jude Bellingham x reader #Jude Bellingham #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham x fem!reader #Jude Bellingham fanfiction #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham smut

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borbygorlinbbqworld · 26 days

Text

A weird dairy allergy.

That's what you had been told it was, ever since you were a kid. But after you had moved out from your parents' protective care, you found out the truth.

Even so, when you checked into the restaurant, you still told them to mind what was given to you. Disinterested, and barely glancing at your modest double D cups, the host raised an eyebrow.

"You mean a lactose intolerance?" he asked.

You shook your head. "No."

"Anaphylaxis?"

You only wish it were. "No, not exactly..."

"Whatever." With a roll of his eyes, he started walking toward a table. "Follow me."

You sat where he directed. Glancing at the menu, you waited for your date to arrive.

Tinder was often as cesspool of terrible choices--for both men and women--but you'd really gotten lucky finding this guy on there.

Aside from being extremely attractive (though that never really hurt, did it?), he was in his second year of residency at a children's hospital. With the looks, brains, and money all that would have entailed, he still managed to be humble, and quite charming.

He even seemed really understanding about your dairy allergy when you had told him about it during one of your late night chats.

'Wow, you must feel so uncomfortable!' he had said, genuinely sounding apologetic.

Uncomfortable had been the gentle way of putting it.

After a few minutes of waiting, your date finally appeared. He chatted with the host for a few moments, pointing at the table you were sitting at. Their conversation seemed a little longer than usual, but when he finally arrived at your table, he explained.

"Just wanted to make sure he was aware of your allergy." He flashed a brilliant smile that made your heart melt. "But we're doing a tasting. A few small servings of everything in the restaurant!"

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

But after eating a few bites of one of the appetizers, you start to feel a familiar tightness on your chest. Your boobs didn't seem overly larger, so you thought it must have been imagined.

After a few more bites though, the tightness doesn't let up. Your bra starts to creek. With another furtive glance downward, you can see you were right.

There's a crease where the bra was trying to contain the breasts and where they were starting to spill out.

"Was there dairy in this?" you ask.

Your date shook his head. "Shouldn't be. Why?"

Why? Maybe you were being too critical of yourself; if he couldn't tell they had gone up half a cup size, maybe it wasn't worth mentioning.

So the next appetizer was brought out. It was savoury, melt in your mouth...

..and made your breasts swell another size. It was very clear now that whatever you had eaten had to have had at least some dairy in it. Your bra now fit like a tiny bikini, your hard nipples rubbing against its edge teasingly as you spilled out the front of your low cut dress.

"There's definitely dairy in this food," you tell your date urgently. "I'm reacting."

He tilted his head to the side, looking at your chest. "Maybe a little bit, but nothing too uncomfortable I wouldn't say."

It certainly didn't feel that way, but maybe he was right. Maybe you were too worried about the stares you'd get.

So you continued to eat.

After the next course, you realized he had to be playing polite. Your mammaries swelled, tightening the top of your dress until there was no more give. Not only were you spilling out the front, but out the sides now too. The straps that had once been full coverage now strained with the weight of your expanding bust. You weren't sure when it had happened, but your bra had torn; it was too much for it to handle.

You jumped to your feet suddenly, your breasts bouncing back and forth as your nipples poked through the fabric of your dress. Stomping over to the host station, you tried to ignore just how good it felt when your breasts were sloshing around from the movement.

"Excuse me!" You waved your hand to get his attention, sniffling a groan as you felt your chest get even tighter.

The host looked up with a bored expression on his face until he spotted just what his food had done to your body.

"U-U-Uhh..."

The man could barely choke out a word, and he definitely couldn't help but stare. It burned a heat between your legs.

"Was there any dairy in the food?" you asked desperately.

He took a solid few minutes to answer, and only did so after adjusting a chub in his pants.

"A-A little bit," he confessed. "I didn't think it would... would..." He trailed off, keeping his stare on your breasts. Clearing his throat he finally looked away. "Your boyfriend over there asked that I put some in."

That little asshole...

You stormed back over to him, a little miffed at the fact that you enjoyed how he watched every sway.

Before you could say anything, he apologized. "I'm so sorry. I guess I didn't believe that it was true, which was wrong--but I had to see for myself."

"Well, have you seen enough?" You gestured to your swelling chest.

"I'm sorry! But how, uhh... " He swallowed, as if biting back more lewd words than what he went with. "How big can they get?"

You did your best to cross your arms indignantly, but the feeling of your arm brushing against your hard nipple made you squeak.

"I dunno, I've never been this big before."

Or this sensitive...

Your breasts felt so heavy, so incredibly full, yet every little bump or sway filled you with pleasure.

He nodded, keeping his eyes on them. "I felt guilty for kind of... trapping you into this, I guess. So I booked out the restaurant entirely, if that's any consolation..."

A quick look around proved there really weren't any other guests in the restaurant. It was a small token of sweetness.

The guy really couldn't stop staring at your breasts, and for the first time, you didn't want him to stop.

"Well, I guess if there's no one else here..." You wave your hand to grab the attention of the waiter. "Let's see how big I get."

His pupils dilated for a moment. "Yeah?"

The waiter arrived.

"A glass of milk please."

He paused, looking between you , your breasts, back to you, then your date. "B-But--"

"Whole milk, if you have it."

He didn't take very long filling your request. You raised the glass of milk up in toast, waiting for your date to meet it with his own.

You gulped down the milk, each swallow loud. Before that moment, any dairy you had had been in tiny, small amounts.

Right away, you felt the familiar tightening in your chest. The sound of ripping fabric told you your dress hadn't made it. As soon as the fabric gave way, your breasts burst forth like water breaking through a dam. They swayed from the sudden freedom, leaving you with that arousing sloshing sensation again...

They had never felt so full before! But full of what, exactly?

It wasn't long before your expanding mammaries forced your nipples against the edge of the table.

You let out a whimper.

"Are you okay? Is there anything I can do?"

So full, so full... How did your swelling masses make you feel so uncomfortable, yet so... aroused?

Whether it was to genuinely help, or so he could get a better look, your date move the table, giving you more room.

Finally, the tightness died down, and the swelling stopped. Your breasts filled up your lap, blocking your stomach completely as the heavy mounds rested on the tops of your thighs. Your puffy nipples stuck out, just aching.

In fact, your breasts in general were in need of something.

You look back to your date, wondering if the growth had been too much. But to your pleasant surprise, he was drooling over them. The thought of his saliva dripping off your engorged teets... were your panties always this wet?

He reached a hand out to touch. His fingertips gently grazed the skin near your nipple, and your breasts throbbed with need.

He took them both in his hands, gently kneading them in his fingers. But every movement hit against a gland, making you let out a soft moan.

Two pearl-like beads appeared at the tips of your nipples.

"Is that...?"

You really did feel full...

He squeezed your breasts gently, no doubt testing his suspicions.

Two streams of milk burst forth from your mammaries, spattering across the floor, the table, and his face as you let out a cry of pleasure.

Before you could even let out the demand that was on your lips, you felt your date's hot mouth on your breast. He sucked gently at first, then a hard suck that flooded his mouth with so much milk, it started dribbling down his chin.

He kept going though, suckling on the one breast while pulling the other nipple in an all too familiar fashion. He directed the spray into his empty cup of water, all while latched and guzzling from the other breast. You could hear each hungry gulp from him, which only made your panties even wetter. I rubbed my pelvis back and forth against the fabric.

He let go with his mouth momentarily, his gaze a little unfocused, like he was milk drunk. "Can't even imagine... what it's going to be like when I get you pregnant..."

And with a loud moan of pleasure from you, he latched on to the other breast, feasting greedily on your massive mommy milkers.

The feeling was pure ecstasy...

---

🐮

#breast expansion #tw lactation kink #lactation kink tw #massive breasts #huge natural melons #huge cleavage #smut #engorged

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writerslittlelibrary · 7 months

Text

He started it

masterlist

summary: when a guy in school gets really handsy with you, you break his nose, yet your moms don’t see it that way

pairing: Blackhill x reader

warnings: yelling, disgusting man

genre: fluff, angst

words: 1143

a/n: I forgot to post this and I feel so bad because I said I was gonna post it yesterday 🥲, so sorry @nattynatoosh for the false promise 🫣

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

|——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

You’re not even sure how it happened. At one point, you were grabbing some books from your locker, and the next, you were sitting in the principal's office.

You were a great kid. You had amazing grades and were outstanding in all your classes. You were the kid every parent would want to have, and Maria and Natasha never hesitated to talk about your great skill and achievements.

You could see the principal looking at you with pure disappointment. “You’re not like this…” you can still hear him saying when the boy told him the story. His story.

You hadn’t said a word. You knew that whatever you said, would just make it worse. If you started talking, you’d quickly lose your temper and you would either be yelling or crying, or both. So you kept your mouth shut. You were waiting for your moms to get there. Surely they would understand and help you.

When your moms did come in, you could see the steam basically coming from Natasha’s ears. She was furious, and everyone in the room noticed it.

Maria followed her, looking way more collected than Natasha was. She was always better with handling stressful situations, especially if it was about you. Maria stood behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder while Natasha sat besides you. The parents of the boy were already there, and from the looks of it they were real entitled rich people.

The mother was crying, and the dad was almost as furious as Natasha, though you’re not sure that’s a possibility. “She hit my baby boy,” the mother cried. “She broke his nose,” she continued sniffling, and you had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

Natasha looked at her unimpressed, and then at you. “Is that true?” she asked, and you shook your head. “Yes it is!” the boy yelled from beside you, and you sighed.

You weren’t going to say anything. You didn’t want to give that to them.

“Well, according to the state both of the kids are in, it’s obvious who’s telling the truth. I suggest a former apology for y/n, and a three week suspension,” the principal suggested, and the mother let out a sob. "Suspension?! She should be in jail for what she did to my boy!” she yelled at the principal, and you heard Maria let out a sigh while she gently squeezed your shoulder.

“Ma’am, jail is a bit harsh for a situation like this, and with the record y/n holds, I really don’t feel a harsh punishment like that is necessary,” the principal said calmly, trying to calm the woman down.

“And you? You’re not just going to let her get away with it are you?” the woman asked your moms, looking at them with anger.

You’re moms assured you’d be punished. Your phone would get taken and you’d get some extra chores at home.

Once the woman finally settled, Natasha pulled you up from the chair and led you to the car. With the grip she had on your arm, you could feel she was still angry. She opened the door and pushed you inside, a little rougher than necessary.

You sat quietly. You didn’t want to cry in front of your moms, yet you wanted to yell at them what really happened wasn’t your fault.

Maria got in the driver's seat, and Natasha sat next to her. You felt their stares through the rearview mirror, but you didn’t dare stare back. You just looked out the window, trying to hold back your tears until you could cry them out freely in the comfort of your room.

“Do you understand what you did?!” Natasha suddenly asked you, and you could feel the anger in her tone. “This is serious! It’s not just some sneaking around or skipping class. Something like this could have serious consequences! Do you even understand that!?” she yelled, and you didn’t dare say something.

Maria sighed with disappointment, “We just want to know why,” she said, looking back at you when she stopped in front of a red light.

You shrugged, and continued looking outside.

“Just so you know, we weren’t kidding. You will have serious consequences at home,” Natasha told you, before she too, silently started out the window.

Once you got home, you quickly ran to your room. You could hear your moms yelling at you, but you didn’t care. You jumped into your bed, finally letting yourself cry. You were full on sobbing, and you could hear someone come in.

You felt the bed dip, and you felt a hand stroking your back. From how it felt you could tell it was Maria. You tried to talk, but it was hard through the crying so instead Maria pulled you in a sitting position, hugging you tightly to her chest.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” you cried out in between your sobs, and Maria sushed you. “I’m sorry mom. I didn’t do anything I swear! He was touching me and he wouldn’t stop. I’m sorry…” you kept crying, and Maria could feel tears in her eyes. “It’s okay, everything’s okay. I’m not mad at you,” she told you, rubbing her hand up and down her back.

You heard Natasha come in, and you felt the bed dip on the other side of you. “I’m sorry for yelling,” she told you, wiping the hair from your face.

“I was unfair, and we should’ve listened to you before we made assumptions,” she continued and your sobs died down to sniffles. “We’ll make sure he’ll get punished, and you’ll stay home next week with us okay?” she said, and you nodded, as you let Maria go and clung onto your other mom.

“I’m sorry mama. I didn’t mean to break his nose, I just wanted him gone,” you cried out, and Natasha nodded as she stroked your hair. “You made the right choice,” she told you, and you nodded.

The next day, your moms contacted the school, and you went to the principal’s office again. This time to watch the security footage. It was clear to see the boy had tried to get in your pants, and it was clear how he had you cornered while you were trying to push him off. After he didn’t let go, you punched him, and he fell to the floor as he started yelling.

The principal apologized, and said the boy would be punished and reported to the police.

On your way home, you were happily murmuring along to the song on the radio, looking out the window. “I just wanted to say I’m really sorry for not asking you what happened first,” you heard Natasha say, and you turned to her with a smile. “It’s okay,” you told her, and she smiled back.

“That was one hell of a punch though.”

#black widow #marvel #natasha x reader #blackhill #mcu #avengers #natasha romanoff #natasha x daughter #natasha x reader platonic #blackhill x daughter #maria hill #maria hill x daughter #natasha x maria x reader #maria hill x reader #maria hill x natasha romanoff #reader insert #marvel reader insert

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gtgbabie0 · 10 months

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hiii, so i have a request, i keep thinking about how hard it was for spencer reid in high school and growing up cause he didn’t have any friends and the only person he could rely on was his mom who wasn’t very stable😭so i wanted a fic where the reader and spencer a best friends but he’s in love with her and it’s in the first seasons, and the reader just kind of brings up how brave he is and comforts him and he’s just overwhelmed because no one actually paid attention to that and confesses to her and they kiss and stuff<33 btw i love your work and how you write🫶🏻

-Spencer Reid x Reader

{Friends to lovers with Spencer}

Sorry, this took forever my love! College has been keeping me very busy. This request made me so soft pls I love him sm!! I hope you enjoy lovelies! 💕

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It is late into the night when Spencer calls you, the thought of staying home alone is far too daunting for him to handle tonight and without a single complaint, you pack a small bag together and drive to his apartment.

Spencer still, after all these years of friendship can’t believe you always come all the way over to his place just for him, without expecting anything in return. You can tell by the look that paints his face when he opens the door, just how he’s taken back he is as you offer him a warm smile.

“I’m sorry I- I just. I couldn’t do it” he tries to explain, as if he needs to justify his reason for calling you. He struggles to find the right words to perfectly describe how he’s feeling right now, the odd ache that captures his chest entirely, a feeling that seeps into his bones and leaves him unsettled.

He closes the door behind you, locking it, as you drop your bag on the wooden floor next to his shoes, “It’s okay Spence, honestly. I don’t mind you know that” You smile at him, a sweet sight that melts his heart.

You’ve always been so kind to him something that Spencer didn’t think was reserved for him, for whatever reason. He was used to it and as horrible as that sounds it’s the truth. He’s used to people's unkind opinions about him, how they always seem to nitpick at his insecurities. That was his life growing up, especially in school.

Then he met you, incredible, beautiful you who left him star-struck. Spencer wasn’t used to having someone like you in his life, someone who always seemed to put him first and cared about him with this unconditional affection, and it often led him to feel as if it were some kind of joke that he wasn’t in on.

However, he quickly learned that that was far from the truth. It was the first night he opened up about his mother and in return you gave him your shoulder to cry on without any kind of judgement, Spencer practically felt all his walls crumble and in their wake came a warmth he hadn’t felt in a very long time. It was safety, you made him feel safe.

You look over at him noticing the way his eyes glisten with tears and you can’t help the blocky feeling that wedges itself in the back of your throat, you open your arms out to him, an offer he wouldn’t ever turn down.

Spencer wraps his arms around you tightly as if you might disappear into thin air. He lets his head fall upon your shoulder, a deep sigh escaping him as your hands soothe against his back. You’ve always had a way of making him feel completely at peace, despite the seemingly permanent stress cloud that hangs above him recently.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You whisper as he sniffles against you, his shoulders shake beneath your hold ever so slightly and it causes a sudden pain to seize your heart, the type that has your chest tightening.

He takes a moment to ponder your question, “Maybe later? I just- it’s been a long week” he mumbles against your shoulder and in return you whisper a small ‘okay’ and Spencer sighs with relief, forever thankful for your patience.

The pair of you soon find yourselves sitting on his loveseat, empty take-out boxes sitting on the coffee table as Spencer is completely engrossed with the way you colour in your colouring book, in all honesty, Spencer could study you for hours and never find himself bored.

“It looks really good” he comments with a hushed tone as he closes the book he was reading, although he hadn’t even finished the first sentence let alone the chapter, far too enchanted by how you add vitality to the once colourless page, bringing the drawing of the Dolphins to life.

You look up at him with a bright smile through very tired eyes, “Thank you, Spence. Dolphins really are beautiful creatures” you state and he hums in agreement as you continue to shade them with a darker blue, a small yawn escaping you.

A certain peace blankets over the pair of you and it’s as if nothing outside of his apartment matters. The clarity allows Spencer's mind to drift, thinking about what it would be like to be with you, to come home to you, sleep next to you. He wonders if you’ll stay even though the nights where he all does is toss and turn if you’ll keep the nightmares at bay. He loses himself in what life would be like with you, a recurring thought.

“Penny for your thoughts sir?” You giggle, noticing the way he seems so deep in thought.

He clears his throat, racking his brain for a fact about dolphins but it’s hard when he’s so focused on you, “Oh umm-” he frowns before finally, the words began to fall effortlessly from his lips.

“Did you know, Dolphins have more brain capacity than humans, Their brains weigh 1600 grams to our 1300 grams. Dolphin brains also have a complex neocortex, which is the part of the brain that allows you to be self-aware and solve problems.” He lists off as if it were as easy as breathing and to Spencer it is.

He watches with pride blooming through his chest as your eyebrows lift with shock, “I actually didn’t know that, I suppose they don’t have anything on your IQ of 187 though” You smile, putting away your colouring book as you rub at your sleepy eyes.

“That and I guess it has something to do with me being human” he chuckles, helping you put away all of your many felt tips.

Spencer looks over at the clock, guilt immediately seeping into his heart. It’s gone past twelve am and he knows you have work tomorrow, it was selfish of him to ruin your sleep schedule just because he had a bad day, and just like that, he finds himself deep within his own self-sabotage.

It’s almost annoying how quickly you pick up on it, “You are just human Spencer, I think you forget that sometimes” You smile kindly at him, reaching for his hand and his breath hitches slightly at the sudden warmth.

“I’m sorry for keeping you so long” he whispers, fiddling with the loose thread of his sweater, “You’ve got work tomorrow and I kept you here I just-” You don’t give him time to continue, knowing it’ll just end up with him talking poorly about himself.

“-Spencer, I can just call in sick but that’s not the point, I’m here because you needed me and I’ll be here for however long you want,” you tell him, squeezing his hand slightly as you brush your thumb over his knuckles.

He doesn’t know what to say or do, his mind rushes with so many words he wants to say, yet all of them seem to be stuck in a ball in the back of his throat.

“What- what if I- what if I need you forever?” He whispers, eyes not daring to glance at yours the fear of rejection still captures him even if he knows that you would go to the ends of the world for him.

“Then I’ll be here forever silly,” you tell him, inching closer to him.

Spencer thinks his heart might just burst out of his chest, years of emotions building up inside him and despite everything he’s seen and been through this might just be the scariest feeling he’s ever felt.

“What is it?” You whisper, and he looks at you with so much emotion in his eyes it’s hard for you to read.

“I’m scared” his voice quivers as he bites back the tears that cling to his eyes, rubbing them away before they have time to fall, “What if I can’t do this?”

It's the truth he's terrified of loving you for so many reasons, he could sit there for hours listing them off, but they all seem to boil down to the thought of losing you, his solace in the crazy world.

Your eyebrows thread together as you move closer to him, you don’t really know what he means.

“Spencer Reid, you are the bravest person I know. I mean you’ve been through so much Spence and despite that, you’re still so selfless” you tell him, wiping away his tears with your sleeve.

Spencer knows he loves you, he’s known for a very long time, and now sitting here with you as you pour your heart out his feelings only triple. You're so close he can sense your body heat radiating off of you, and with the sudden closeness comes that all too familiar sickly feeling that spreads through his chest.

“Whatever it is you’re scared to do, I’ll be here through it all”

You smile when he finally looks up at you, forehead resting against your own as both your hearts pick up in pace. The butterflies in his stomach are all too prominent because, goodness you're so close to him, and he can feel your gentle breath fanning along his cheek.

His nose brushes against yours as you press your lips to his own, his tears wetting your own face, completely overcome with emotions as he leans into you chasing after your warmth as he kisses you back, something that surprisingly comes so easy to him.

“I love you in ways that terrify me” he whispers against you as you brush his hair away from his eyes, “I’ve loved you for a very long time” he confesses with a shaky sigh.

“Spencer-” you can’t help but let out a breathy giggle, “I love you too” and it doesn’t take long for you to kiss him again, excitement snuffing out the doubt in his mind. You both smile against each other's lips, the kiss breaking as you do so.

His heart has never felt so full before, content as you rest against him. Just as it should be.

“Can I ask you something?” You wonder, sitting up slightly as he nods with a small ‘Anything’

“How long?” You chuckle when he blushes, his cheeks adorned with a deep red colour.

“Longer than I care to admit” he whispers clearing his throat.

“So- how long is that?” Ah yes, you and your persistence.

“Since we were seventeen” he whispers so quietly that you can barely even hear him, and if you weren’t sitting so close you don’t think you would have heard him.

“Seventeen?” You ask as he nods, solidifying his answer and, if he’s completely honest, he doesn’t want to know your answer but yet that doesn’t stop him from asking, ‘What about you?’

You feel your face heat up dropping your head to his shoulder as you mumble a quiet, ‘Fourteen’ Your answer confuses him as he tilts his head slightly to try and look at you.

“Fourteen? We didn’t even know ea-” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence as you run off into the bathroom excusing yourself as he holds back a chuckle.

He decides to let it go for now, you can’t exactly hide in the bathroom forever and he knows he’s got a long time to talk to you about it so for now he’ll bask in this prideful feeling, knowing he’s been the one to hold your heart for years and many more to come.

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mrsnancywheeler · 3 months

Text

the river (4) // finnick odair x f. reader

summary: the Capitol has taken you away from Finnick, the life you've been trying to build together and now he has to fight to get every part of you back

previous chapter/next chapter

masterlist

4.8k words

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, talks of trafficking and abuse related to it, aftermath of breakups, mentions of torture, self destructive behavior, mental illness, unedited, no use of y/n, underage drinking, paranoia

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“I'm hurting you, real or not real." It's been days of this, of Finnick trying to bring you back to him. Half the time you were fine, you'd try to go over the past with him, joke, and open up, so he'd do the same. He had to be so careful though, it wasn't clear what exact things would set it off, but you'd get so paranoid about him and the doctors. Occasionally they'd be able to calmly bring you back, ground you back into the firmness of reality. The other times you'd devolve completely, screaming, crying, hysterical, and Finnick would have to step away as you'd get worse when he was close by. It was an exhausting, never-ending cycle, but it was worth trying to get you back.

Today you'd let his chair be by your bed, but now he was scared he'd be forced to retreat. He had to be careful, if he lied you might be able to see it in his face and be convinced he was lying about other things, or he could tell the truth and risk the spiral of guilt. “Real." He knotted his rope, staring down at it for a second.

“I'm sorry, I don't mean to or want to. I'm really sorry." You're crying and he's thinking, oh shit, so early in the morning and now a whole day of what could've been progress will be lost.

He stared at you, trying to portray as much genuine feeling as possible, “I know that, angel, I don't blame you. I could never blame you and have never blamed you." It hurt to be so close yet so far away, he could reach out and touch you, but he knew better. Not like you always told him when you did want him to hold you though, some days you communicated well, but others it was like you forgot that he needed explicit permission to come close. You'd get grumpy when he couldn't just tell you wanted him closer and do as much. Truthfully it was adorable, and it reminded him of the past, but that also made his heart ache. He couldn't just make an inference anymore on the off chance it sent you into a frenzy, so he'd have to sit by and wait.

“You should, I'm so fucked in the head, and you deserve better."

“Well I'm pretty fucked in the head too, sweet girl, and there is no one better." You were hiccuping on your sobs, this could go badly so quickly. “Hey, it's okay, we're okay, why don't you take some deep breaths with me, angel? Look at me, just follow what I do, deep breath in, deep breath out." He urged you to look at him and you did, trying to follow along through the tears until finally you were somewhat calmed down.

“I'm sorry." You sniffled, wiping away stray tears.

“It's okay, sweet girl, we're gonna have a good day today, right?" The last couple had been rough, so strenuous for the both of you. You nodded slowly, “Maybe they'll let us take a walk or eat lunch with everyone else. Would you like that?”

"I don't know.” Your knees curled up into your chest.

"That's okay, we don't have to take that step yet if you don't want to. We can just talk or sleep or I can teach you some knots, and whatever else we can think of.” You shrugged and he had to realize that it could be a good day, but it probably wasn't going to be an easy one. With you in one of your difficult moods that he'd be left to handle. You'd say no even if you wanted something, silently expect him to come to the conclusion himself, and if it had been before the Capitol dug their talons in it would've been fine. He would've teased you about it before giving into your quiet plea for attention and he would've relished it because it meant you wanted comfort instead of only comforting him. Now though he didn't know what you were thinking, he had assumptions but the risk of being wrong was too great. “We have to use our words, angel, and if that's too hard you can write it down."

You said nothing and laid your head down on your knees, shaking it. Finnick shifted in his seat, rubbing his head, he didn't want to be annoyed with you, but it had been bad day after bad just to lead to this. He was exhausted and hated Snow for making him work so hard just to have you back again. “Please, don't be mad at me.” Your voice was so broken and so soft that he regretted even showing any form of annoyance.

"Angel, I'm not mad at you. I just can't help you unless you tell me what you want or need.” You ever so quietly let out a small huff as you laid down instead, staring at the ceiling. At least you weren't screaming until you needed to be sedated, you were just having a hard time communicating your needs. Finnick was sure all you wanted was to be held, in the past that's what it usually had been. “Is this making you feel embarrassed, honey?" Sometimes the switch between trying to push down your own needs for solace had left you like this, difficult to feel like you deserved to be consoled. Now though, he reasoned, it was because you felt like such a burden.

"I don't know what's going on in my head and everything is so conflicting. I just want to be me again so I know what I want, and you know, and I don't know it's too much. And I want to say things, but I can't because I just want people to see me as I was and know." His poor, sweet girl having to fight all the inner turmoil. You felt different, but you weren't. You were just struggling and wanted things to be the same as they had before, he knew that, but he also knew that they couldn't be until there were less breakdowns, less paranoia.

He had to suck it up and just give what he was so sure it was at the risk of another breakdown if he got closer, but the alternative was a different type of breakdown. “Do you want me to lay with you again?” You played with your fingers and nodded, so he slipped in beside you. He knew there was more from the way you looked at him and hoped he wasn't pushing boundaries, that he was right. "Angel, do you want to be held?” You finally smiled just a little bit when you nodded, grateful, and he smiled back,"Come here, sweet girl.” The moment his arms were around you your head snuggled into his chest, it felt perfect, the way you two were meant to be.

"Don't let me go."

“Wouldn't dream of it." He hadn't touched you in so long it was like heaven in his arms again. “You ready to talk now, sweet girl? Wanna tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours?"

"I'm sorry I'm so difficult for everyone, I don't know what going on in my head half the time anymore.” Your voice vibrated through his chest and it was so comforting to him.

“You're just trying to get better, it's okay. And you can ask me, angel, you don't have to sit with it in your head and let it eat you up. You can just ask me if it's real.” His fingers traced circles on your shoulder, you were so cold all the time, it made him feel less hot and stuffy

“I'm safe, real or not real?"

“Real." Safe from the arena, the Capitol, the only thing you weren't safe from was yourself.

“Okay." You snuggled yourself further into him, like you trying to let yourself believe it. “When I was in the Capitol…” Finnick's ears perked up,"I'd try so hard to keep myself in reality, and I'd think about that time we took that tiny, crickety rowboat out and you said it would be romantic. So you packed up your fishing rod and we'd been out for a couple of hours when it was probably time to row back. So I said I'd take one of the oars-”

"Because you insisted I deserved to rest since it was so hot and I'd rowed us out, which I wasn't, but you gave me that cute little pout so I let you have one.” Of course he remembered this, even if three years ago felt like an eternity.

"You were tired!”

"That's subjective.” You scoffed, but he could hear you smiling.

“Anyways, right after you give me the oar you started kissing me-"

“You just look so cute when you pout like that and you were shining in the sun, like an angel, I had to."

"But you distracted me and I got so caught up in it because you were being an ass, started leaning me down.” He does remember his diabolical plan when you were sitting down sweetly on that little row boat, trying to help him, he just wanted to lay you right down and show you how appreciative he was.

"And you dropped the oar, sweet girl, wasn't my fault.”

"Yes, it was, you distracted me and then you tilted your body when you heard the splash to see what happened and so I did the same. Which made the boat tip over and left us both in the water.”

“And you just started laughing, I couldn't even be worried about you because your sweet little laugh was the first thing I heard. I just swam right over and had you in my arms, started laughing with you, and the only way I could get you to stop was by kissing you.”

"And then you wouldn't let me help you get the oars and row boat back up.”

"You're so pretty, sweet girl, would rather watch you while I'm on task, we saw what happened when that doesn't happen.”

"That was your fault!” You exclaimed, he could feel your smile on his chest.

“Maybe, but it was worth it.”

You hummed in response, one of your hands playing with the fabric of his own medical gown. "And then you insisted I had to get on first and I didn't know how you did it but somehow you got me in the row boat again before climbing back in, without it tipping over, it almost did, but not completely. And it was so hot that it was drying us off completely when you rowed us back with that beautiful, goofy smile on your face the whole time.”

“Couldn't help myself, you're so beautiful, love to look at you, angel."

“And only after we got to shore and you were insisting on carrying the whole boat by yourself did I notice I'd lost one of my sandals." You let out a small laugh into his chest that made his own smile brighten. “So you told me it was another reason I couldn't carry the boat even though it didn't bother me. We'd lost all the fish so we just ate grapes and giggled as you tried to figure something else out."

“I sat you on the counter and you just smiled like you were the sun, so I'd sneak kisses in while I worked. We decorated that rowboat together, do you remember?"

You nodded into his chest, eyebrows scrunched together. “With flowers and seashells?"

“Yeah, good job! Flowers, seashells, fish, the ocean waves, our handprints, and I carved our initials into it too."

Your voice become somehow even softer, “So when I was in the Capitol I'd think about how refreshing the water felt when the sun was beating down on us, how it felt and tasted when you kissed me, how you held me, the sound of you laugh, how special you made me feel by taking care of me. I'd think about that day to try and stop me from slipping away, for a while it worked."

You never ceased breaking his heart and making him fall deeper in love with you. "Well you're still here with me, haven't really slipped away from me.”

"I feel like I have, that I've slipped away from even knowing myself.” You admitted, voice croaky.

“You've just fallen and we're helping you back up, angel, I'm putting you back in the boat. Maybe it'll rock, but I promise you, it won't tip again."

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His life was hell with you gone because now there was nothing but the ever present loneliness to return too. There wasn't a day that seemed to pass where he didn't think of you in some way. Sometimes it was how much he missed you, others it was fantasies of still being together, and the worst ones were when he'd imagine your life without him. It was terrible when the breakup had begun and he had his first party because everybody had been drawn to you.

“Where is she, is she not feeling well because I can stop by."

"You can't have let that one go, Odair, she was perfect for you.”

"Finnick, she was my drinking buddy!" People admonished him left and right when it was finally revealed that he'd dumped you. Although he was pretty sure people were more upset about the lack of your magnetic presence.

Initially he tried to play it off like his Capitol persona would have, you were just one of many girls lined up for him, and the committal part had scared him off, and you were so clingy. The rumor mill caught it and so many girls were ready to be next. He felt like he was betraying you every time he sent a flirty smirk back to whatever they said to draw him in. So he gave up the persona, he'd rather be mournful and drink away the problems each night.

Then he'd heard that Tallulah still saw you, she'd grab a bottle or two and sneak out to tap on your window. That way she still had someone to take care of her afterwards and she trusted you with the role. “Lulah please tell me what she says, I don't care what about, just anything. I'm begging you." Finnick was tipsy and felt like he was going to cry, but Tallulah pursed her lips.

“Finnick, I don't think that's a good idea.” She took another sip of her drink.

"I'll do whatever you want, please. I'm not asking you to pass messages or anything.” She must have taken pity on him and his tears when she agreed. So he soaked up anything you'd said the next time he saw Tallulah.

“I don't think you want to know."

“I do, I don't care what it is."

“Finnick, if you're already this beat up about it, I'm not sure telling you what she said will help.”

“That's okay, I deserve to feel bad about it."

Tallulah sighed, " People talk Finnick, so the things you'd said about her kind of, you know, got back to her.”

Finnick looked up as if it would stop the tears from falling,"No, no, no, no I didn't mean that. She has to know I didn't mean that.”

"But you said it.” Tallulah shrugged. "She kept asking if I thought she was too clingy or overbearing, sometimes she'd ask if you had someone else and then decided she didn't want to know.”

"No, never.” He said quickly and hated himself for leaving his sweet girl only to cause her even more pain from afar.

“If you're gonna leave a girl, you have to leave her, Finnick. Or you're both gonna spend your whole lives wishing for things when you could just move on. I'm not gonna do this again, just let her have Conway. It's always been them.”

"I know, that's okay.” But it wasn't because Finnick Odair was like a moth to a flame. Any time he could see or hear about you he would. He remembered when nearly a year later you'd started dating Beckett, the same goddamn Beckett that had drawn Finnick to you in the first place. He'd been jealous for a myriad of reasons he had no right to. At least it wasn't Conway, at least if you stuck with Beckett it was a different ending then the expected, the obvious route.

But god, did Finnick hate him. Because he represented you trying to move on, that Finnick didn't have a future with you, and worst of all that other people found you just as intriguing as he did. So when he'd walk the market in circles just to see Beckett shamelessly flirting with you and in your way, you'd flirt back. Maybe he was vain, but Finnick liked to imagine that you did it so he'd be jealous and take you back, even if that could never happen. Beckett had to know it affected Finnick too, who only maintained terse conversation or made jabbing comments towards the other boy.

Until finally whatever excitement you got from it burnt out and you told Beckett it wouldn't work. Leaving Finnick to wonder if it was wrong that he hoped it was because you realized you could never love someone as much as you loved him. It was probably fucked to want, but he needed to know so desperately that you were as longing for him as he was for you. His life condemned him to longing glances and whispers of your name over the ocean waves, but at least you would be safe. Maybe he'd find you in another lifetime, right person, wrong time. Then you could be safe and happy.

Instead he realized the universe didn't expect either of your lives to be ones of just the parted lovers, whatever he'd done in a past life, was coming back for blood. He should've known Snow would realize Finnick thought of you with every breath he took, that he still thought of your lips instead every time he was in the company of a customer, and that it would lead to more tragedy. Because when the fated reaping for the 69th Hunger Games began, it was your name sent into the labyrinth of death.

Any light left in his life had been aggressively ripped from him, it was as if everytime he thought he'd hit rock bottom the ground would crumble beneath him and the falling would resume. At least he knew you were smart, he was privy enough to the clockwork of you to know that you were terrified, but to anyone else you would've looked so calm and collected. Then you looked at him and he felt like the ground was breaking again, another thousand feet to fall. It was like you were sending him a love letter before you went off to certain death.

Tides were always changing, they could sweep you away or reveal the gorgeous curiosities of the waters, Finnick wasn't sure what it was when the second tribute's name was called. Conway. Why was he inescapable? If the stars destined you and Finnick to be tragic lovers, then Conway was always there to rock the boat. But through your eyes, glistening with tears, he sees the plan almost formed. Never has he been so grateful that his sweet girl could easily put on a brave face to handle anything, that you're used to using charisma as a way to fend for yourself, because that means success in the Capitol and you need that.

So although he wished your eyes had stayed on him, blessed him, instead they could do what he needed. Make you interesting enough for sponsors. He knew Conway deserved better, but how could he focus on him when you were right there? His sun, his moon, the stars in the sky, you were absolutely everything, so there was no time to think about what Conway deserved or didn't.

Finnick could easily craft your image to others. He was certain of it, he could sing your praises night and day, so it would be far from difficult to convince the Capitol that you were the model victor. If he had to grovel at the feet of every elite, let them damage his long gone sense of dignity, then it might be worth it for once. Your death would be the last piece of pressure on the dam before it burst open, he needed you to survive. If you won he could be with you. There wouldn't be any hiding because as a victor, Snow would already be finding ways to dig his talons into you. It was all worth it to be able to hold you again.

Finnick could watch every mechanical gear shift in your brain and fall into place. The way Conway loved you, which made Finnick seethe even if he'd always laughed it off like it didn't bother him in the slightest, was going to have to save your life. You'd hate yourself for it, but you'd hate yourself more if you didn't do everything you could do to be there for your family. The same family that you were convinced despised you, but you would spend every cent of victory money on doctors for your mother, or to make it so none of them had to worry about crabs ever again. Not as if that would be necessary, the influx of riches was so exorbitant no one really knew what to do with it once they'd helped those they loved and spoiled themselves sick. Regardless, if you had to step on Conway's head for them you would. Even if it meant the end of the friendship that had kept you afloat for years. Maybe you avoided home like the plague, but only after you'd worked to convince everyone you could sell out your booth. Finnick had always been in awe about how sweet little you could effortlessly piggyback on any information you had to make a sale, which was a largely successful method. If you won you'd have to focus your efforts on performing for all of Panem instead, but that wouldn't be an issue for you when your family would be safe.

Surely it didn't hurt that he was also on the other side of survival, maybe that was selfish for him to think about, but he hoped you knew he would take you back in a heartbeat. That every dream he'd ever shared with you, fantasy about your future, could be possible once you had that crown on your head. It would be full of trials and turbulent waters, but at least you could be together. So he watched as you forced your eyes to portray the gaze of a lover about to be ripped apart from her happy ending, the look you'd genuinely worn when he'd broken your heart. Conway seemed to know you well enough to understand that, but it gave Finnick pride to know he couldn't read you like a book, unlike him. At the end of the day that would be a good thing, at least Conway could die without his dreams of being loved by you being dismantled.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Finnick should've known better than to fall asleep once you had. But it felt so normal to have you asleep on his chest. He was no stranger to nightmares, his or your own, it had become a constant present in your lives. Usually he knew how to handle them, but now it was a completely different ballgame. When you woke up screaming you didn't want his comfort, you wanted him as far away as humanly possible. Hitting his chest as he unwrapped his arms as quickly as he could to dart out of the room as fast as he could while the doctors flooded in.

“Just let him kill me." You were sobbing, curled back into the ball where your knees were pulled to your chest as you cried into them. A doctor tried to touch you and you instantly pulled away, like you were a wounded dog. Your hand covered your ears as you rocked back forth, and back and forth. “I need to see Conway." You muttered and then so lightly under your breath, “Conway, Conway, Conway."

“Angel, he's not here right now." He'd never be here, but further upset could be avoided.

You nodded slowly, “I need to see Peeta." At least that was doable.

“Tomorrow, he's been doing better, we can take you to see Peeta tomorrow." A doctor assured, no one wanted to sedate you again unless they absolutely had to, so this was much better.

“Promise?"

“We'll do what we can." She smiled at you sympathetically.

You slowly uncurled yourself from your ball, “Okay."

“Are you feeling better?"

“Yeah, I'm sorry." Thank god, no king crisis. Just a moment that had now passed.

“You're okay, just had a bad dream. Perfectly understandable, do you need anything?" You shook your head and the medical staff slowly began filing out.

“Can I stay?" Finnick's fingers found the rope to focus on. You looked at him for a second, like you were deep in thought, before nodding. So he took his place in the chair, “Do you wanna talk about it?"

“You should just kill me now." The words ran out of your mouth and made his heart drop, “I know you want to and I wanted you too. I probably deserve the uncertainty of when it will happen, but I'm selfish and just need it to be over with."

He wasn't sure if his heart had ever hurt more, but it was always reaching new levels of pain. “I don't want to kill you and I'm not going to ever.”

"You should. Even I know I should die, it's not wrong to admit.” You blankly stared at the glass in front of you.

“You don't deserve to die, you've done nothing with that. You've suffered enough to make up for whatever it is you think you did.”

"No I haven't, this is the universe’s lead up to it. I hurt him, the only person who really cared about me since we were children, and I tore him into shreds. It has to come for me.”

“Look at me.” You kept staring at the glass. Finnick's words came out harsher than he expected them too, but maybe it would mean they finally got through your head. “Look at me!” Finally you did, looking so startled and confused. "This karmic retribution fantasy needs to stop. It's been six years. I'm not telling you to stop hurting or that the guilt will go away, but it doesn't mean you need to continue to suffer or deserve death.” He leaned forward in his chair, "You used Conway, so you deserve death? You spent six years being used by any Capitol elite willing to pay. Being horrifically abused in any way imaginable. You got sent back into the arena! There was only one year you had a victor and she came out of the arena known for being ‘crazy.’ They sent you back into the arena to die and you didn't expect to come out of it. The Capitol held you hostage and tortured you. Have you not given enough to make up for what you did as a teenager? Conway, after six years, would have said it was more than enough to make up for a few weeks of deception. Even if this led to his death, because no matter what, he cared about you. He was angry then, but I doubt that in whatever happens after we die he's holding that grudge after watching you suffer for so long because he loved you. You don't want someone you love to go through something like that.”

You were sobbing again and Finnick felt his own eyes brimming with tears. “I miss him."

“I know, angel. I know." He would never be able to fill the role that Conway had and he'd long accepted that. All he could do was assure you that when I came down to the bare bones of it all, Conway as he was, wouldn't have wanted you to suffer as much as you had for it. Whatever punishment it caused had been more than paid and he would've known that. He would've told you that if he could. He'd been so angry in the moment, but Finnick knew Conway still would have loved you despite the transgressions in his heart and life because that had been his way. All Finnick could do was hope you didn't find a way to see what Conway would really say, in the near future, because then he'd follow quickly behind.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

thank you for reading, sorry this took so long, I've been very busy!! feedback, comment, likes, reblogs are all very appreciated. my ask box is always open and I loved answering them, requests are open and I've got some fics from them coming up after this. thank y'all so much for reading 💋

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cl3fairyyy · 2 months

Text

hide and seek || edward nashton / the riddler x fem reader (nsfw !) ⋆｡𖦹°‧★

summary || your sex life recently with edward has been non existent. with him being so focused on his plans for gotham, you have found your needs being neglected. you decide to take initiative and plan a fun game for edward while he's at work.

warnings || SMUT!! there is plot but this is pretty much straight up porn lol. reader and edward role-play a kidnapping scenario but everything is consensual!! slapping, restraints, degradation, light knife play, overstimulation, p in v, pussy eating, choking, hunting(?kind of?), (fake) threats of violence, mentions of stalking, the suit stays ON during sex, some weird purity/ corruption stuff in this idk i think a demon possessed me halfway through writing this. minors please do not interact!!

word count || 4k i did not mean for it to be this long oopsie!!

notes || i haven't written smut in a LONG time so i am so sorry if this is straight up garbage pls go easy on me. recently reread year one and im seriously going insane the hyperfixation is so back guys. i love writing edward so much especially when it comes to writing some nasty porn about him LOL. i srsly had no idea how to end this so its kinda bad sorry D:

┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚★⋆｡˚ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ┊ ⋆ ┊ ┊ ★⋆ ┊ ◦ ★⋆ ┊ . ˚ ˚★

In recent months, you have found yourself growing increasingly frustrated. For the longest time, you haven’t had the faintest idea of what has been causing this, and that has caused it to manifest itself in various ways throughout your everyday life. You have found yourself much more easily annoyed by the most minor inconveniences, and have had repeated warnings at work to stop arguing with customers over the pettiest of matters.

One afternoon in late November, whilst attempting to share in your boyfriend’s body heat on the sofa of your freezing living room, watching the news and listening to him ramble about finally ‘revealing the truth,’ it hits you.

Edward hasn’t fucked you in months.

Even before this change, you didn’t have the most active sex life- you were both too busy holding down your day jobs whilst simultaneously investigating the corruption poorly concealed beneath Gotham’s cobbled streets. Still, you’d find the time every other week or so to take care of each other.

You love having sex with Edward; he’s so gentle with you, handling you like a precious gem that will shatter if dropped. He always makes sure your needs are met before he even thinks of himself, worshipping your body with an obsession akin to a deeply faithful Catholic’s love for Christ himself.

But sometimes... it can get boring. Not as boring as not having sex at all, but boring enough that you often find yourself lying awake at night, longing for Edward to keep up his Riddler persona for just a little while longer after he arrives home from doing whatever he does to have the coppery scent of blood soaking into the walls of your small apartment.

You know your frustration will only worsen the longer you go without having sex, so you decide to do a small experiment.

You take the next few days off work, pretending to be sick, and Edward, usually ever attentive to your every need, your Edward, who begins panicking if you all but sniffle the wrong way, barely notices. With your theory proven that his work has been turning him into someone who is evidently not your sweet Edward, you begin doing everything you can for even an ounce of attention from him. You give him shoulder massages after he returns home from a long day at work, cook him his favourite meals, run baths for him, at some point it evolves into you all but throwing yourself at him, and you have to take a step back to reevaluate your approach. Being that desperate for sex is not a good look, especially when your boyfriend is completely oblivious to how horny you are.

You decide you need to formulate a plan to force him to focus on you.

It starts with the lingerie. You scour the shopping apps on your phone for an embarrassingly long time, trying to find something perfect. You eventually come across a pretty lilac set, its sheer mesh bra framed with soft ruffles and feminine frills to accentuate your chest, and immediately order it, even begrudgingly spending a little extra for next day delivery.

The next step of your plan is to come up with a simple puzzle, something stimulating but still to the point- you're so horny that you know the next time you’re in a room with Edward while he still has that Riddler costume on, it’s going to take some real self-restraint to stop yourself from ripping it off him.

The final step of your plan is waiting for the perfect moment to put everything into action. You realise it isn’t the most complicated or glamorous scheme to ever exist, but if it manages to work and allows you to finally get some action, you won’t be complaining.

One evening, when it’s well past 5pm, and definitely well past the time Edward should have been home from the office, you get a text from your beloved.

hi honey, moved tuesday’s plans forward to today. got an opening with savage and cant miss it. will be home late- ill pick up food on my way back. love you.

we’re finally making some REAL change : )

You almost leap out of your chair with excitement, rushing around the apartment to make sure everything is in place for your little game of hide and seek.

When Edward finally returns home, the apartment is dark- it’s well past 11pm, so he figures you’re in bed. He sighs, setting down the takeaway bag on the coffee table and calling out your name, pausing when you don’t answer. You always wait up for him when he’s running his late-night ‘errands.’ When he thinks about it more, he realises you didn’t even text him back earlier this evening; you’ve been sick, too- what if you collapsed, or had complications, or worse?

Before he can begin panicking, he finally notices the lit candle on the kitchen counter. Next to it is a piece of paper, which Edward gingerly picks up with shaking hands, reading the five words scrawled across it.

‘Dear Riddler,

Come find me.’

Confusion clouds Edward’s mind for a moment before he realises that he’s reading your handwriting, and the sweet flowery scent giving him a headache is his favourite perfume of yours. He stands still for a moment, rereading the note as the familiar feeling of want begins to curl in his lower belly. You’ve never actually addressed him as the Riddler before.

He definitely likes it.

You crouch uncomfortably in your hiding space beneath the dining table, straining your ears against the silence of the apartment as you try to gauge how Edward has taken your little game based off his breathing. You hear the rustling of fabric and the sound of something zipping up, and realise he must’ve slipped his jacket and mask back on because his breaths are definitely muffled now.

He begins taking slow, deliberate steps around the apartment, his combat boots loudly thudding on the wooden floorboards as he does so. You suddenly feel very vulnerable in only your undergarments and wonder if this is how his victims must feel, a thrill tingling deliciously up your spine.

You shift a little in your spot, trying to find a way to crouch comfortably while also remaining out of sight. Your heart pounds so hard in anticipation of being spotted that you’re sure Edward can hear it, especially when his footsteps begin to head towards your hiding spot.

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep the sound of your breathing to an absolute minimum; the silence in your apartment is deafening and, for the first time in all the years you have known him, you begin to feel almost weary of Edward’s presence. In this moment, you’re not just Edward’s partner.

You’re his prey.

So wrapped up in your own mind, you don’t hear Edward’s footsteps behind you. You feel two strong, gloved hands grab your hips and rip you out of your thoughts. You squeal giddily as Edward throws you onto the wooden dining table, biting your lip to stifle the giggles that threaten to spill out.

Edward looms over you, his glasses glinting in the moonlight that seeps into the apartment through the cracks in the blinds. He is completely silent, save for the heavy breaths muffled by his mask. When he finally speaks, his voice is low and raspy, and the sound of it sends tiny shivers of excitement up your arms.

“I’ve been watching you for so long. Every move you make, I’ve followed from the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to snatch you up. Do you know how hard it’s been? Hearing your pathetic whimpers while you fuck yourself every night, and having to wait until it’s me making you unravel? But now I have you here, all to myself, and no one is around to save you.”

The sight of him like this, so indescribably large compared to you, looking down on you like a lion that has captured its prey and is about to rip it to shreds- it sends sparks of arousal through you that pool in your sheer underwear. You look up at Edward through your eyelashes, smiling innocently.

“Looks like you caught me.”

With that, he drags you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he heads towards your bedroom. Your face burns, unsure of when or how he got so strong, and the anticipation of what he is about to do to you sends tingles of delight down your spine.

Edward throws you carelessly onto the bed before straddling you. He wordlessly grasps your wrists in one gloved hand, holding them above your head while he rips off a piece of duct tape from the roll that dangles from his belt, and binds them together securely. He subtly tilts his head to the side, and you can read him so well at this point that you know he’s asking if your restraints are too tight. You shake your head, and he immediately melts back into character, sweeping his gaze down your exposed body predatorily.

His gloved hands reach forward, roughly groping your breasts, pinching and rolling your clothed nipples between his fingers. You squeak, writhing beneath him, deciding to put on a bit of a show with it.

“P... please, don’t...” you whimper pathetically, bucking your hips into his. You hear him groan under his breath above you, removing one hand from your chest to grip your chin harshly, squishing your cheeks together. “Shut up.” His voice is low and dangerous when he speaks, a complete contrast to the sweet voice Edward usually addresses you with. “You’re trapped here, and no one is coming for you. You can scream as loud as you want, it won’t make a difference.”

“You’re so pitiful, dressed up like one of those whores on the street just to get my attention.” He breathes out slowly, slipping a gloved finger beneath your bra to massage your nipple. “I can’t say it hasn’t worked, but a whore is still a whore. You need to be cleansed, like the rest of the filth in this city, and the only person willing to do that is me. That’s why,” he pauses, the hand gripping your chin roughly yanking your mouth open as he leans over you, pulling up his mask slightly and spitting in your mouth, “you will take everything I give to you like a grateful little bitch.”

He slaps your face, hard enough to sting but not enough to bruise, and you swallow the mixture of your saliva and his. You can’t stop the moan that slips out from between your parted lips, and he locks eyes with you, his pupils blown so wide with arousal that his eyes appear completely black in the low light. He leans forward again, pulling up his mask, and harshly kisses you, pushing his tongue into your mouth as his knee forces your legs apart. You whimper when you feel his erection brush against your thigh and he bites down on your bottom lip, hard. He moves his focus to your neck and collarbones, attacking the sensitive skin with kisses and bites, marking every inch of you that’s visible.

“This is so,” he murmurs breathlessly between fervent kisses to your skin- and, Christ, is he smelling you?- “everyone knows you were fucked by the Riddler. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? For everyone to know that you’re such a whore that getting fucked by a serial killer gets that pathetic cunt of yours completely soaked.” You moan at his words, arching your back to press your chest against his as you grind against his knee.

“Such a needy little thing. One touch from me and you’re already at my complete disposal.” He leans back on his heels to look over you, your hair a complete mess, your lips swollen and as red as the flush on your skin. The strap of your bra has slipped down your shoulder and Edward’s breaths become haggard as he reaches for the knife on his belt; he cuts away the fabric hiding your breasts from him, much to your dismay (that lingerie set was pretty fucking expensive), and immediately takes one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud before biting down lightly. You moan louder, squirming against your restraints and trying to pull away from him.

He slaps you again, harder this time, running the flat side of his knife against the mark that begins blooming on your cheek. “If you don’t shut up and take it like a good girl, I'll have to hurt you.” He presses a chaste kiss to your parted lips. “I wouldn’t want to ruin a face as pretty as yours.”

You whimper, rubbing your clothed core against Edward’s thigh, feeling the arousal in your lower belly build from the stimulation. Edward certainly doesn’t miss this, his eyes widening slightly as he peels your underwear away from your pussy. A string of your own slick connects you to the mesh fabric, and you can hear the amusement in Edward’s voice when he says, “oh, I’m going to ruin you.”

He cuts your underwear away, dragging his knife down your body painfully slowly. You shiver from the cool metal, whining from frustration when Edward’s gloved fingers spread your glistening folds, pointedly ignoring your throbbing clit.

“You pathetic girl... so wet for me. No one else could get you to react like this from their words alone, could they?” You shake your head rapidly, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get closer to Edward’s fingers. “Say it, then.” He begins lazily rubbing circles into your clit, causing you to cry out with relief at him finally touching you. He runs the blunt end of his knife across your neck, twisting it in his hand so the tip presses into your skin, not quite breaching your flesh. “Nice and clear for me. Tell me that you’re my bitch.”

You moan when he begins speeding up his movements on your clit, stumbling over your words. “I.. I’m your- your b-” He cuts you off with another slap to your cheek, and the action sends a sharp jolt of pleasure right to your clit, causing you to choke out a moan. “Not quite, pretty girl. Try again. Whose bitch are you?” Your eyes narrow with confusion for a second before you realise what he wants you to say.

“I’m th- the Riddler’s bitch.”

He nods, satisfied, pushing two gloved fingers inside of you while the other continues rubbing your clit. You can feel your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast, whimpering and giving Edward a pleading look.

He nods wordlessly and you unravel, your orgasm enveloping your body in a blissful warmth as your pussy clenches hard around Edward’s fingers. He breathes out through his nose, hard, as he watches you cum, his cock throbbing at the feeling of your pussy spasming around his fingers.

Edward pulls his fingers out of you when your body finally finishes shaking, inspecting your wetness on them in the low light of your bedroom for several moments, before pushing them under his mask and sucking them clean. He moans at the taste of you, and you feel his dick twitching against your leg as he closes his eyes, savouring you. He sighs, opening his eyes.

“I need more.”

Before you can react, he’s gripping your waist with strong hands, dragging your body up against him, holding you up almost completely off the bed, and hooking your legs over his shoulders. Edward gazes at your drenched cunt with a hunger in your eyes that you've never seen displayed by him, his breaths deep and shaky as he smells the arousal leaking out of you. You squeak, thighs still quivering from your previous orgasm.

“W-wait, Ed- Riddler, I... I’m still t-too sensitive for...” You cut yourself out with a cry of pained pleasure as he latches his mouth onto your pussy, pushing his tongue into your sensitive hole. You sob as he sucks on your clit, shocks of overstimulation wracking through you as you weakly kick your legs against him, your body growing limp. The sounds Edward makes as he devours your pussy are obscene, the room filling with echoes of your cries and Edward’s moans as he sucks and licks crudely at your sex.

He pulls away occasionally, praising and degrading you in barely coherent pussydrunk babbles: “such a perfect girl for me,” “stupid bitch, such a needy whore for your savior,” “so pretty with mascara running down your face,” “any louder and I'll give you a real reason to cry,” “taste so good, i need all of you.” And it’s all so much, his tongue writhing so deep inside you, the grip of his hands on your ass, the cool leather biting into your flesh, the way he moans and ruts into the bed from the taste of you, and before you can even breathe you’re cumming again, and you’re cumming so hard your back lifts off the bed entirely, the strength of your orgasm rocking you all the way to your core. Your mind goes blank as a chain of choked moans and sobs spill from between your lips, all you can focus on being the way Edward continues to fuck you with his tongue all the way through your orgasm. You can feel your slick sliding down your thighs, and when Edward pulls away you can see it dripping down his chin, and you don’t miss the proud grin on his face as he pulls down his mask.

He drops you back onto the bed, straddling you once more and wiping your slick from his chin with his finger, motioning for you to open your mouth. You obey him and he pushes the digit inside, motioning for you to suck it clean. When he pulls his finger from your mouth, his eyes darken, and you can practically feel the smug smile in his words. “Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you? No one can make you cum like I can... and I can still smell how horny you are for me. You’re so needy, yet you’re never satisfied.”

He tilts his head, and the dim light from the lamp behind him illuminates him similarly to a halo, and you almost find yourself beginning to create a religion in your head just to worship him.

“I don’t think you’re being very grateful.”

You begin crying out words of thanks, rubbing your legs together to lessen the ache of overstimulation. Edward's knees cage you in, and he grips one of your thighs with his hands.

“Quit your grovelling and stop fucking moving when I’m talking to you.” His hand travels to your face, cupping your cheek with a surprising tenderness as he sighs. “You’re still so filthy... look what this city has done to you. I suppose I’m your last hope.”

He unbuckles his belt and unzips his trousers, finally freeing his cock from its confines. The tip is an angry red and leaks with precum, and Edward lets out a breathy moan as he strokes it. He spreads your legs, lining himself up with your sex and pushing into you slowly. He gazes down at you, a complete mess beneath him, and groans. “You’re so lucky... being fucked by Gotham’s salvation...”

You can barely think, let alone speak, and when Edward begins moving his hips, his thumb finding your clit and massaging it, you sob, tears streaming down your cheeks. He moves in and out of your agonisingly slowly, and when you look up at him, you can make out that his eyes are closed as he savours the feeling of you.

“Your virgin pussy is so... so fucking tight. Oh... h-how does it feel to be fucked by your saviour? Your God?”

You sniffle beneath him, choking on your sobs as he speeds up to a punishing pace, his cock bruising your insides. He grabs at every inch of you, his hands finding refuge around your throat.

“Oh, you’re so good. You were so filthy, but I will cleanse you. I will purify you; I will plant the seed of hope within you, and you will be saved.”

He babbles on as he fucks you, squeezing his fingers around your throat, verging on crushing your windpipe but never quite gripping hard enough. You cry out for him, so cockdrunk and lightheaded from your sudden lack of oxygen that you find yourself looping your bound wrists around his neck, pulling him forward and crashing your lips to the rough leather of his mask. He makes a noise of surprise before his fingers once again find your clit, rubbing at it desperately as his hips begin to stutter against your own.

Edward, ever the gentlemen, wants you to cum before him; you feel your cheeks grow warm at the thought, and pull away to look at him. You can barely keep your focus on him, your vision going hazy, and he begins assaulting your clit with more fervor.

“Be a good little angel and cum for your savior.”

Your vision goes white as the orgasm rips through you, your entire body spasming as your pussy clenches down hard on Edward’s cock. He has to stop moving to prevent himself from cumming as he guides you through your own orgasm, his fingers weaving through your hair as he coos at you.

“Yes, that’s it. Such a perfect girl. So pretty cumming on my cock.”

He begins speeding up again, his hips slapping against yours with a clumsy rhythm, his breathy moans growing louder and more desperate with each thrust. You lay, exhausted, whimpering incoherent words of encouragement to him as he chases after his own climax.

You feel him begin to pull out and you weakly wrap your legs around his hips. “W-want you inside. Need... need you to cleanse me from the inside.”

Your words are what tip Edward over the edge, and he whimpers loudly as his cum spills inside you, his hips grinding into yours as he relishes in the aftershocks of his orgasm.

Thank God you're on birth control.

Edward slowly pulls out of you and cuts the duct tape that binds you, gently pressing kisses to the insides of your wrists. He pulls off his fogged up glasses and his mask, placing a gentle kiss to your lips as he smiles at you worriedly.

“I didn’t go too far, did I?”

There's your lovely Eddie.

You shake your head, laughing weakly and he smiles, pushing his glasses back up his nose as he helps you to your feet and guides you to the bathroom, letting you use his body for support. Edward sits you on the lip of the bath and dampens a towel, gentle cleaning you up and placing loving kisses to every bare patch of skin he can reach. He reluctantly leaves you alone to freshen up as he straightens up the bed, changing into his pajamas and finding your favourite t shirt of his to sleep in.

When you re-enter the bedroom, with a slight limp that Edward definitely notices but refuses to comment on, he dresses you and tucks you into bed before lying next to you, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

“Sorry I’ve been so... distant lately.”

When you go to answer him, he rubs his thumb soothingly on your cheek and you get the message that he hasn’t finished talking.

“We have big things planned, we both know that, but... it wasn’t right of me to not look after you when, now that I look back at it, you really made it obvious that you needed me to. I hope you can forgive me.”

You smile, pressing a shy kiss to Edward’s lips.

“Don’t apologise, Eddie. There’s nothing to be sorry for. You can apologise tomorrow when I can’t feel my legs or sit down properly for a week.”

He laughs and buries his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.

“I really love you, you silly girl. A-and..."

He pulls away from you but continues to avert his gaze, his cheeks pink and a lopsided grin tugging at his lips.

"The, um, th-the lingerie was very pretty, you looked really lovely. I'm, ah, sorry about..."

He doesn't meet your eyes and you snort, bringing a hand to rest on his cheek with a fond smile.

"Yeah. That I'm not so quick to forgive. You have no idea how expensive nice underwear is when you're a woman."

Edward laughs shyly, delicately holding your wrist and pressing tender kisses to your palm that leave you melting. The heat in his eyes, however, is undeniable.

"I absolutely will not complain if you decide to spend all my money on pretty lingerie and then decide to model said lingerie for me."

"You're unbelievable."

You both laugh as Edward continues peppering soft kisses up your arm, then your bruising neck before finally meeting your lips in a tender kiss. He pulls away, and the way he looks at you with such love and adoration almost makes you tear up.

Edward twirls a strand of hair around his finger, pulling you closer to his chest. His fingers reach up and he begins combing them through your hair properly, whispering sweet praise to you as you find yourself dozing off.

#dano riddler #dano riddler x reader #edward nashton #edward nashton x reader #paul dano #riddler 2022 #riddler x you #batman 2022 #edward nashton x you #riddler x reader #danocel #danonation #dano!riddler #the riddler #the riddler x reader #the riddler x you

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sesshous · 2 months

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"think before you act" [alhaitham x reader]

genre: comfort (no prns)

a/n: been in a very alhaitham loving mood lately and wanted to take a quick break from writing other fics / working on projects so i wrote this little drabble

alhaitham is not very physically affectionate. after all, words (to him) is a more effective way to convey thoughts and feelings. and it works for you too. he’s blunt, but he’s truthful. to be compatible with alhaitham, you have to understand alhaitham. it doesn’t bother you that he acts the way he does - it never did. and besides, you wouldn’t ask him for advice if you couldn’t handle the way he spoke.

he’s a lot more observant about people’s emotions than people think he is. yours especially.

so when he sees you, sniffling quietly to yourself, eyes red and puffy, alhaitham knows words are not what you need at the moment.

in due time, he thinks to himself.

and when he hugs you knowing he's definitely not the best at this kind of comfort, the way you wrap your arms around him back, resting your head on his shoulder makes him feel like he’s doing something right.

alhaitham is not very physically affectionate, but he can at least try to be. a bit more for you, anyways.

#ᰔ works #alhaitham x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #al haitham x reader

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anonymous-dentist · 2 months

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A very lonely night from the Merpepito AU

Pepito can’t sleep. The boat is rocking too much and Miss Baghera is snoring (even though she keeps saying that Captain Celbi is the one snoring; she’s just a dirty rotten pirate, though, so why would she tell the truth?) and Pepito can’t stop thinking about the Very Bad Thing and, and, and-

Pepito whimpers into his pillow. His eyes squeeze shut, but all he sees in the darkness is the blood and their eyes- their eyes!! Empty and terrified and all because of Pepito because Pepito is a Bad Pepito.

Apa Roier is probably sleeping just fine. Him and Apa Mariana probably haven’t even noticed that Pepito’s been gone for an entire month. They probably got Apa Quackity and Apa Carre and Ama Rivers and they got a new Pepito- a Good Pepito- and they’re all in the same house and happy, and it’s fine!!!

Pepito stifles a sob with the sleeve of his shirt. They’re probably happier with their New Pepito. That Pepito isn’t a bad person. They deserve a Good Pepito, they’re good parents. The best parents. Ever. Of all time.

Miss Baghera snorfles in her sleep, and Pepito decides that, despite him being a super evil pirate now, it would be rude to wake Miss Baghera up with his crying.

So Pepito slides out of his bunk and puts his glasses on.

He tiptoes out of the sleeping quarters and upstairs onto the deck (because that’s apparently what the ship’s roof is called.)

The sun is nice, but Pepito thinks that Pepito likes the moon just as much. It always looks like it’s smiling, even when it’s going away to hide. Pretty…

Pepito huddles next to the central mast and looks up at the moon. Maybe the moon would like Pepito. It seems nice.

Pepito can’t talk because of the Magic, but he can think, and, silently, he asks the moon if it would like to be Pepito’s friend.

That’s when Pepito hears a quiet sniffle from up by the steering wheel.

Peeking around the mast, Pepito sees… Captain Celbi!? Crying!? And alone…

Determined, Pepito stands and trots up the stairs to the steering wheel.

Captain Celbi, of course, sees Pepito approaching. He has good eyes. (He’s so cool!)

“Hi, Pepito,” Captain Celbi says. He smiles, and, in the dark, it doesn’t even look like he’s sad.

He isn’t in his Captain Clothes. He’s in his… pajamas? He’s half-dressed: half-pajamas, half regular clothes. His coat is on, but his hat isn’t.

He has both of his hands firmly planted on the steering wheel’s handles, and- whoah, holy Ocean, did his hair just move!?

Almost silver in the moonlight, one of two little pointy things on the top of Captain Celbi’s head twitches like a nervous clownfish.

Pepito gasps. Captain Celbi has horns!

Wait, no, that’s silly. Sky Pepitos are “humans”. They can’t have horns.

As if following Pepito’s train of thought, Captain Celbi raises a hand to press his pointy things down against the top of his head.

“Ignore them,” he tells Pepito. “What’s up? Is Baghera snoring again?”

Pepito nods, still staring up at Captain Celbi’s head.

Captain Celbi snorts and shakes his head fondly.

“And she says I snore,” he scoffs. “What a liar, huh, Pepito?”

Pepito shrugs. They’re all pirates. They’re supposed to lie, aren’t they? That’s what Apa Roier says, pirates are all ugly and smelly and they’re all liars and killers and thieves (though he always says it with a weird fuzzy look in his eyes and with a smile on his face, weird.)

“Don’t worry. You can hang out up here with me until you’re tired enough to sleep,” Captain Celbi says.

Pepito wants to say that he doesn’t wanna sleep because every time Pepito sleeps he sees the Very Bad Thing and he wakes up sick and sad and useless, but Pepito can’t. So he just sighs and sits by Captain Celbi’s feet and watches him steer.

And Captain Celbi lets him. He’s nice, for a pirate. Apa Roier would like him, probably. It’s a shame he’s a human. It’s a shame Pepito is Pepito. Now Apa Roier and Captain Celbi can never meet, all because of him.

Pepito’s lip wobbles. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Captain Celbi is letting out a soft, pained noise and crouching in front of Pepito with a concerned frown.

“Aw, hey, it’s fine,” Captain Celbi says. He pulls his sleeve up over his thumb and uses it to wipe under Pepito’s eyes. “I don’t mind, really. You can stay up here all night, if you want.”

That isn’t the problem!

Pepito is tired. Pepito wants to sleep.

Frustrated, Pepito raises his hands and puts them under his head as if they were a pillow.

“Right, you can’t sleep.” Captain Celbi nods. “Baghera is snoring. We can find you somewhere else in the morning?”

Pepito sighs and shakes Pepito’s head.

How to talk about nightmares…?

“You don’t want to move,” Captain Celbi guesses.

He pauses, then he tries again: “It isn’t the snoring.”

Pepito nods.

Pepito can’t talk, and Pepito is still learning the Sky Pepito writing system, so Pepito kinda just hangs out and hopes everyone gets what he wants to say. It’s like charades, kinda. It’s fun! Pepito loves charades!

But Pepito is sleepy, but Pepito hasn’t been able to sleep since leaving home because of the Very Bad Thing, and it stinks.

Captain Celbi hums thoughtfully, and then he settles down next to Pepito on the deck. (The Ocean feels still, they probably won’t get too off-track if Captain Celbi stops steering.)

“Do you want to know why I’m up here?” Captain Celbi asks.

He looks around to make sure that nobody has managed to sneak up onto the deck to eavesdrop.

Then, when he knows the coast is clear, he leans in and whispers, “I had a nightmare.”

Pepito’s eyes widen dramatically. No way!

Captain Celbi nods. “Yeah. It was super scary.”

Wordlessly, Pepito takes one of Captain Celbi’s hands in both of Pepito’s. It’s what Apa Mariana does when Pepito has nightmares back home, he holds Pepito’s hands to show him that he’s awake and the bad dream was just that: a dream.

The two points on Captain Celbi’s head stand up again as Pepito touches him, and they stay up.

Captain Celbi half-smiles. “Don’t worry, Pepito, I’m used to bad dreams. I’ve been having them since I was your age, probably.”

Pepito’s eyes widen. He frowns sympathetically. Poor Captain Celbi… even pirates don’t deserve bad dreams!

“But, because I’ve been having bad dreams for so long, I know how to forget about them,” Captain Celbi says. “See, my bad dreams are all about the bad things I’ve done, and those are in the past. So, to forget about the past, I think about the present and the future.”

He looks up at the moon, slit pupils widening. His eyes almost seem to glow blue in the night like a magic catfish’s.

Pepito thinks. The present and the future…

Well, Pepito is gonna grow up to be the bestest and scariest pirate on The Ocean. That’s in the future.

In the present, though, Pepito is just Pepito. Nothing special there. Just a Bad Pepito.

Captain Celbi’s fingers curl around Pepito’s.

“In the present, I’m taking my crew on a trip around the world, and we’re having a good time,” Captain Celbi continues. He looks at Pepito out of the corner of his eye. “Are you having a good time, Pepito?”

Pepito ponders. He thought there’d be more pirate-ing, but he’s been having a lot of fun playing games with Richarlyson and Pomme, and it’s fun learning how to tie knots with Mister Pac, and it’s really fun hiding in the crow’s nest with Mister Felps and Miss Baghera when they’re supposed to be doing chores.

So Pepito nods and grins.

Captain Celbi smiles the rest of the way and looks back up at the moon.

“And, in the present, I’m looking for treasure,” he says. “The most mysterious treasure of all. And, when I find him, then it’ll be time for the future.”

Can treasure be a person?

Well, Apa Carre always said that Pepito was his treasure, so it makes sense.

But Captain Celbi already has a Pepito, he has Richarlyson! Why does he need another treasure if he has a Richarlyson?

“By the time I’m ready to think about the future, it’s all my brain wants to imagine. So that’s what my dreams become,” Captain Celbi finishes. “Nightmares are in the past. The past doesn’t matter. What matters is the present.”

His voice goes harsh then, but Pepito doesn’t notice. He’s too busy thinking about the future: Captain Pepito in charge of the S.S. Pepito and beating up any annoying Navy guys he finds with his totally amazing crew.

Pepito yawns. Without thinking, he shuffles so he’s next to Captain Celbi. He leans against Captain Celbi, eyes slipping shut as he thinks of the future.

Apa Roier will be on the S.S. Pepito. So will the rest of Pepito’s parents, and they can bring their Good Pepito, too. They’re all Ocean Pepitos, so they won’t be able to breathe in the Sky, so they’ll have a swimming pool in the ship.

Pomme and Richarlyson will be there, too. So will Captain Celbi and Miss Baghera and Misters Pacandmike and Miss Mouse and Mister Felps and…

Soothed by the rocking of the waves and the comforting presence of his super scary and evil captain, Pepito finally manages to fall asleep, right there on the deck of the ship tucked into Captain Celbi’s side.

(And that’s how Richarlyson finds the two of them hours later when the sun rises.

Ew, Richarlyson thinks. He glowers and storms below deck to get some trash to dump on them.

Gross.

Pepito really should just learn that he isn’t Pai Cellbit’s kid, the little shit…)

-_-_-_-

A/N:

And that was Part 2 for you!

Hey guys!! PLEASE reblog this! And leave an ask or a comment or a tag or a whatever telling me your thoughts and questions! Let me know if you want more, because there is more!

#merpepito au #a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose.#happy bday pepito

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ficsilike-reblogged · 9 months

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Invisible Smoke - Three

Summary: There is something going on with Jake’s favorite mechanic. And he finally gets some answers.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin/F!Reader Word Count: 9k ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED

A/N: I apologize for the delay and thank you all so much for the love on the last chapter. Life has been a little overwhelming lately. Work has been hectic and I had a close family member pass away. I am hoping to come up for air soon. Thank you for your patience. And I do feel the need to reiterate that I DO NOT keep a tag list. Sorry!

Warnings: Naval inaccuracies, themes of stalking, cursing, mentions of bodily harm/injury, domestic abuse, and unhealthy coping mechanisms.

What could you possibly say? The truth was out of the question, at least the entirety of it was. You couldn't and wouldn’t drag him into this more than he already was. Jake deserved better than being wrapped up in your mess. “I got caught up in something above my paygrade a few years ago. Thought I had left it in the past. I’ll take care of it.” You took the Polaroid from his hand and threw it into the footwell in front of you before making sure to press your shoe over it.

Jake was quiet as he started your car and pulled out of the lot, turning toward the direction of your little bungalow. Maybe you should have been surprised he knew the way—he’d only come over with the rest of the Daggers twice and Bradley had been driving—but for some reason it just made sense. Of course Jake would know. His jaw was shut tight, you could see the tendons working as his teeth ground together. But just as quickly as you noticed it, he relaxed. But he didn’t move to turn the radio to a different station or raise the volume. He just kept driving.

The rollercoaster of emotions you’d just endured had you sagging in your seat. While your tears had slowed to a leaky trickle, they didn’t stop. And you wanted to scream, to rage at the cruelty of it all, but mostly what you wanted to do was crawl into bed after making sure your door and windows were locked.

He’d ruined your night. He had somehow found out you were going to the Hard Deck and had purposefully planted that picture. You were almost surprised that he hadn’t slashed your tires when he had the chance, too.

But it mattered little when Jake pulled into your driveway and handed you your keys after shutting off your car. He followed you up to the small, stone stoop and waited until you waved him in to step inside. You felt his eyes on you as you turned the locks on your door and then double-checked the one on the handle before you wiped at your face. Mascara and foundation smeared against your hand and you grimaced as you noticed it. Fantastic.

“Do you want a drink or something? I’m going to call you an Uber but before then? I have tea, water, and soda I know you won’t drink. I don’t keep alcohol in the house, sorry.” You were rambling, you knew that. But did you stop? No. “I can also order something for delivery, if you want.” You sniffled and tried to resist the urge to wipe at your face again.

Jake’s shoulders rolled as if he were trying to shake off a bug before he shook his head. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed, Punch? I’ll wait out here.”

That sounded like he was staying. And, really, you knew you should be shoving him out the door and into an Uber you knew would take him back to his car and far away from you and the disaster that was your life. But you still nodded, trying to ignore how you liked knowing he’d just be in the living room, waiting. “Feel free to snoop,” you said, retreating down the hall.

“I’m not going to snoop!”

“Yes, you are.”

And then, as soon as Jake heard your bedroom door close, he started to snoop. He did have your permission anyway and that half-assed answer you gave him wasn’t sitting right in his gut. Your little house was neat, if not in need of a bit of dusting. Art prints in soft greens and light yellows were hung in straight lines with personal photographs, in smaller silver frames, dotted between. A bookshelf took up an entire wall and was organized by last name…except for the bottom shelf that was mostly empty with just a small stack of lilac spines and silver lettering. Jake bent to get a better look but paused, spotting two large but thin frames tucked behind the bookcase. He tugged one out and saw that it was your undergraduate degree from some university up the coast. The next frame held your Masters Degree. Both were covered in dust and forgotten about. Almost like you had purposefully shoved them away. Carefully, Jake put them back and tried not to think about why you wouldn’t want them displayed, and instead grabbed one of the lilac books. It didn’t have a traditional cover, just the title: Sunlight Filtered Through Champagne. Below it was a small sticker with “ARC” typed out in bold white letters. Turning the book to look at its spine, the author’s name now accompanied the title: Georgia Torrance. There was a small note sticking out of the top and Jake slowly pulled it out to look at. Thought you may want it in your hands! Can’t wait to see what you come up with next! What did that mean?

When he heard your door open again, he was quick to put the note and book back and stand straight, trying to make it look like he was just looking at the thriller paperbacks on the shelf at his eyeline. It looked like you had a grading system on the shelf, too, scribbled on a small post-it note, denoting happy endings and not-so-happy endings. There was also a note to donate all of the not-so-happy ending books.

It was like you needed hope that a bad situation could end on a good note. And then there were all the locks on your door. The handle of a baseball bat was sticking out from under your little couch. Your curtains were not open when you arrived. You couldn’t read thrillers that ended badly because you were living in a fucked up one yourself, weren’t you?

“I got caught up in something above my paygrade.”

The words didn’t sit right with him. This wasn’t some sort of government cover up. This wasn’t a case of you seeing something you shouldn’t have. The note had been too familiar and the photo had been too intimate.

“You look like you’re trying to think,” you said.

Jake turned and almost swallowed his tongue as he looked at you. You’d switched out your sundress for tiny shorts and socks that went up to your thighs. A baggy Navy t-shirt nearly covered your shorts. You looked so soft, so comfortable even with your eyes still a little swollen from your earlier tears. And it twisted at something warm behind his ribs.

“Careful, you might pull something if you try too hard.” The insult was lacking its usual heat but Jake hardly noticed. Something else had gained his attention. A large gnarled scar was peeking out from under your shorts on your left leg. It reached halfway down your thigh and Jake couldn’t see how high up it went. Whatever had happened, it looked like it had hurt immensely. Then he remembered how the slits in your dresses were always on your right side. Your shorts, while tight, always reached your knees. You had been hiding it.

Who had hurt you?

He must have been staring too long because you angled your body away from him and cleared your throat. “I’m gonna call you an Uber. Sorry for my freak out earlier. You coulda been home and asleep by now. Or picking up someone at the Hard Deck. God, I really fucked up your night.”

You were rambling again. And maybe Jake would have found it endearing in any other circumstance but not when you were twisting your hands into the excess fabric of your shirt and shuffling away from him to grab your phone.

Slowly, as to not startle you, Jake reached out and gently took the phone from your hands and set it on the couch cushion. Your face scrunched with your confusion and the divot between your eyebrows only deepened when Jake set his hands on your shoulders. “You gonna tell me what actually happened?”

Your features shifted and shuttered, falling into the casual annoyance you usually wore around him. “I told you-”

“Yeah, you told me something. Now tell me the truth. I was in that car with you tonight, Punch. I saw how scared you were. A picture had you just as scared as nearly getting run off the highway. Tell me what is going on, please.”

Your jaw clenched and you wiggled out from under Jake’s grip. “So you’re calling me a liar now?”

“No! I just-”

“I’m sorry you got pulled into this, okay? I am. I never should have brought you to the party. You never should’ve been in the car.”

You weren’t getting it. He needed you to understand. “I’m glad I was with you! I’m glad you had me with you—but you can’t just tell me that you have it handled or brush it off because-”

“I’m not brushing anything off!” You snarled. “Stop trying to play hero!”

It may have been easier if you had just slapped him. Was that how you saw him? “I’m not playing at anything. But I can’t help you if you won’t let me try.”

The glint in your eyes was near murderous. Jake had only ever seen you look like this once before and it had been when some asshole had yanked on Penny’s arm at the Hard Deck. “Just stop! I-”

“I know something is going on. You can’t convince me otherwise, all right? My mama always said that if you smell smoke, it’s ‘cause there’s a fire.”

You wiped a hand over your eyes and Jake hated how he noticed your chin wobbling. “Your stupid southern colloquialisms do not apply to this situation. There is no smoke!”

Jake stepped forward again and peeled your hand away from your face, sighing as he saw fresh tears lining your lashes. He never wanted to make you cry. Not ever. “There is smoke. And I want to help you. Let me help you.”

You sniffled and looked away from him again but didn’t pull your hands out of his grip. “I don’t fucking understand this metaphor. A-and I don’t want to tell you.”

The words cracked in your throat and Jake only squeezed at your hands. He was here for you. Couldn’t you see that?

“Invisible smoke or not, I’m not going to tell you. I’m not.” You shook your head and finally pulled your hands from his and Jake was prepared for you to step back and tell him to leave, to tell him, again, that you had this handled. Instead, your warm palms pressed against his chest and your tear filled gaze locked on his face. His next breath stalled. God, you were beautiful. “I don’t want to be the one to make you look at me differently. Just…just let me have the rest of this night, okay? I’ll text Bradley and tell him that he can tell you. But just let me have this last night where I’m not some stupid, broken girl in your eyes.”

Jake reached up and settled his hands over yours, noticing how goosebumps raced up your arms when his thumbs brushed against your knuckles. “You could never be. You’ll always be Punch.”

You sighed and almost smiled at him before shaking your head, pulling your hands out from under his. “No, I won’t.”

You weren’t entirely sure how you managed to convince Jake to watch a movie with you instead of talking or prying more, but you had a bowl of half eaten microwave popcorn between you on the cushions and The Mummy playing on your television.

This wasn’t how you saw this night playing out. Of course, a person could never really fit a car chase and a quick emotional breakdown into their schedule so, perhaps this was the best possible outcome. As Brendan Fraser’s Rick O’Connell gave Evy a pilfered toolkit in the most adorably awkward manner, your gaze drifted over to Jake.

And he was looking right at you.

Shit. Embarrassed heat washed over you and you quickly looked back at the television.

“C’mere.”

“What?” It was barely more than a squeak and you stubbornly refused to move your gaze away from the television again.

“I know you heard me,” Jake repeated, a bit of a laugh cracking his words. “Come here.”

“I’m not a dog, you know,” you bit back before you could think of being polite. Old habits do die hard.

But it seemed like Jake didn’t particularly care, because he moved the popcorn bowl onto your coffee table and then grabbed at your legs, dragging you over to him with a simple tug. The noise that escaped you was a mortifying mix of a squeak and a yelp and you fell forward with the force of it, hands falling against his arm and shoulder awkwardly. His warm, work-rough hands slid up your thighs, skirting over the scar that still left you grimacing even if the pain had faded years ago, and settled on the curve of your waist. Then, with another simple movement, your thighs were bracketing his and he was looking up at you with the stupid, beautiful sea glass eyes. There was something in his gaze you didn’t recognize.

Or maybe you did and you couldn’t voice it.

“What’re you-”

“You look like you needed a hug.”

You arched a brow and ignored the thundering of your heart. How many times had you thought about something like this only to curse your wandering thoughts? “Oh?”

“Yeah. And I’ve been told I give the best hugs.”

Your mouth twisted to the side—you weren’t sure if you were fighting a smile or a snarl. “Who told you that? Which one of your bed warmers-”

The words stalled behind your teeth when Jake leaned up just enough to wrap his arms around you, warm and solid. And you hated that it immediately brought tears to your eyes. God, how long had it been since someone had hugged you like this? Held you like this? You melted into his grasp like butter on hot toast, going slack against him until your forehead rested on the broad expanse of his shoulder. Jake’s movements halted for a moment. And, if you had been anyone else, you might have said you felt his breath catch. But you knew better.

“This means nothing, you know,” you said, one last ditch effort to not let him know how pathetically easy you were enraptured with his easy touch. “I’m withholding my judgment on if you give good hugs or not.”

You heard him smile before his hands continued their smoothing motions up and down your spine. “Okay, Punch.”

You could have argued a little more. Maybe mentioned how he probably needed a hug more than you or how you wouldn’t feel bad when his legs fell asleep under your weight. But you didn’t. You didn’t because you were so comfortable and your favorite movie was playing in the background and Jake’s cologne smelt so good…who could blame you for falling asleep?

You snored. Just a little. It honestly reminded him of like…a baby bear for some reason. But maybe you were just extra tired. Jake wouldn’t be surprised if you hadn’t been sleeping well. Either way, Jake slowly slid one arm beneath your butt and kept the other a little higher on your back and gently lifted you up from the couch; your head lolled to the side and fell against his chest as you let out a heavy breath. Jake pretended not to feel how you rubbed your cheek against him and let out a soft hum. Or maybe he filed that little sound away to think about later. Either way, Jake made his way down the short hallway and pushed open your door with his foot, wincing as its hinges whined.

Your eyes opened the slightest bit as soon as your head hit the pillow and Jake was sure he would never forget the smile you shot at him.

Then he was thinking about waking up every morning to your sleepy, happy smile. He was thinking about carrying you to bed after a long night at the Hard Deck. He was thinking of you. He had always tried to shove those thoughts down. He had tried to ignore them because he knew—he knew—that nothing could come of it. But now he couldn’t. He knew what it was like to hold you in his arms. He could deal with the paperwork, admirals, and ribbing from the Daggers…if it meant he could…well, he’d finish that thought when he knew you were thinking the same thing.

After shutting your door, and making a mental note to pick up some WD-40 for those squeaky hinges, he made his way back to your living room. He picked up the popcorn bowl and washed it out and then straightened the cushions, just like his mama taught him to do. The movie finished as Jake sat on your couch and dug his phone out of his pocket. It was well past one in the morning but he still pulled up Bradshaw’s contact and typed out a message. We need to talk.

He’d probably hear from him in the mor-

His phone beeped with a new message and he was quick to click on the thread. I’m on my way.

Wasn’t he supposed to be out in the desert with Maverick? What did he mean he was on his way?

Apparently Rooster was also psychic because another message came through. Cut trip short. Will be at her house in an hour.

So, Jake waited. He played a stupid game on his phone to pass the time and made sure it was muted so it wouldn’t wake you up. Every time he heard a car pass by, he checked the window. He needed to make sure it wasn’t the charger again and he wanted to meet Bradley at the door so you wouldn’t wake up when he knocked. Five more rounds of the mindless game on his phone and then he was standing up again, and watching a familiar Bronco pull onto your driveway behind your car. He was surprised to see Maverick exit the passenger side but waved them both in when they approached the door.

“Where is she?” Bradshaw asked instead of a greeting.

“She’s asleep,” Jake hissed. “Keep your voice down.”

“Have you checked all the windows?” Maverick asked, voice thankfully at the correct decibel.

“A couple times,” Jake said. Maverick knew too? Was he the only one that didn’t know what you were hiding? “Are either of you going to tell me what’s going on?”

Maverick looked at Rooster but Rooster was looking right at Jake, mouth set in a firm line beneath his ridiculous mustache. “I gotta see her first. All right? We’ll stay with her for the rest of the night.”

That just about crawled all over Jake. He was just going to shove him out? After everything that’s happened tonight? “No. No, this is fucking ridiculous. Tell me-”

“Seresin,” Maverick cut in. “You’ve had a long night. Why don’t you head back to base and get some sleep?”

“I-”

“That’s an order, Lieutenant Commander.”

That simple phrase repeated in his head as he sat in the back of the Uber headed toward the Hard Deck, and when he drove himself home, and as he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom. That’s an order, Lieutenant Commander. What it actually was, was insulting. But he did as he was ordered, knowing that Mav and Rooster were trying to take care of you (and Maverick did have the authority to have him brought up in front of the brass)…but why didn’t they see that Jake was trying to help, too? As he stewed, his phone chirped with a notification from his sister, Mia. It was a picture of her sitting out on a familiar porch swing, the Texas night sky on display over her head as she smiled at the camera. She was holding up a cup—Jake knew it was probably filled with her favorite chamomile blend from a shop a few towns over from the family ranch. Hope you’re getting more sleep than me!

Jake sighed for the umpteenth time. Mia’s ex-husband, a man named Ryan who Jake had never liked, had up and left her for a coworker. She was understandably heartbroken and then when she discovered that Ryan had a child on the way with his mistress while Mia had been struggling to have a baby, she had been near inconsolable. It had taken her nearly a week for Jake and his sisters and mom to get Mia out of bed. It had been slow going to help her get back on her feet, even after the lawyer his mom hired managed to get Mia all of the marital assets and half of Ryan’s monetary savings alongside a hefty alimony. Mia had always been the strongest of his sisters, an older sister to the core, who had truly stepped up when their father had stepped out on their mother. It had been a cruel twist of fate that Mia’s marriage had turned out to mirror their mother’s so closely. Jake spoke with each of his sisters at least once a week, mostly just making sure they were doing okay and to lessen the bit of guilt he had for leaving Texas and them in the rear view when he joined the Navy. After tonight, he could use a little talk with his sister.

Jake hit the small phone icon beneath her name and it rang twice before she picked up. “Please tell me I didn’t wake you up with my text.”

“I was awake.”

“What’re you doing up right now?” She grumbled.

“Had a long night.” That was putting it lightly.

“I thought you were going out with that girl, Punch? Not the girl of your dreams anymore?”

Jake bit back the groan he felt rising in his throat. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t need to. You’re my baby brother and I know you. She a bad kisser or something?”

“We are not in high school and I’m not having this conversation with you,” he grumbled, feeling heat start to flood his face.

Thankfully or not, there was a strange fluttering sound on the other end of the line, followed by a muttered, “shit!”

“Everything okay?” Ryan had shown up at the ranch Mia and their mother now shared more than once, raging about the divorce decree and/or asking for a second chance in the next breath.

“Yeah, just dropped my book.” There was a long sigh and Jake imagined her settling back down onto the well worn cushion in the swing.

“What’re you reading?”

“A book.”

He rolled his eyes but felt a smile pushing at his mouth. She could always make him laugh. “Mia.”

“Jacob.” She snickered before continuing. “The author’s name is Georgia Torrance. She writes romances and if you judge me I’ll figure out a way to get your superiors to ground you from flying for, like, three days at least.”

Jake’s smile widened the slightest bit before something clicked. Georgia Torrance. That was the name on the strange books in your home. Can’t wait to see what you come up with next! You had written them, hadn’t you? Under a fake name, sure, but that was you.

If this were any other situation, Jake would drive back to you and simply ask if had a second job as a writer but he’d been banished from your house by his superior officer. So, he’d just bide his time with that, too, he guessed.

“I think I’ve heard of her. She has a few books, right?”

His sister giggled down the line. “Oh, they’re some of my favorites. Me and a few of the other girls have been getting together, like a book club, to read them. It’s fun.”

Jake smiled. She was doing okay, leaning on her friends. “You like those scandalous books, Mia? Gram would be mortified.”

Mia hushed him, but another giggle softened the blow. “They’re a great escape from the shitstorm of my life right now. Don’t judge me. They really are well written! And they’re so soft, Jake! Like, you can tell the characters actually care about each other.” There was a wistful sigh on the other end. “And she does this thing in all of her books.”

“Thing?”

“Yeah, the hero in some fashion or way, always ends up carrying the heroine to bed. Just to sleep. It is in all of her books. It’s her thing. Her trope, or whatever. It is so romantic.”

The sleepy, happy smile you’d given him flashed in his mind and the smallest bit of tension released in his chest. He had made you smile while doing something you, apparently, thought was romantic.

“Are you okay?” Mia asked, pulling Jake from his reverie.

His answering sigh crackled over the phone and he thought of your smile again. “Don’t worry about me.”

Someone was sitting on your bed. You had the vague realization of the weight as you teetered between sleep and wakefulness. “Jake?”

“‘s me, Punch.”

You smacked yourself in the face while attempting to wipe the sleep from your eyes. “Bradley? Aren’t you still supposed to be out in the desert with Captain Mitchell?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “But my favorite mechanic was apparently auditioning for the Fast and the Furious and we cut the trip short.”

Even in the dark of your room, you could see Bradley smile. “You hate those movies,” you said, hating how your voice started to quake. Hadn’t you cried enough?

“I do. Now, are you gonna tell me what happened? And why fucking Hangman was acting like your guard dog?”

Heat dragged up your neck and you were thankful for the dark of your room so Bradley wouldn’t see you almost smile into your pillow. “Is he still out in the living room?” He’d stayed for you.

“Mav sent him home. Wanted me to tell him everything the second we got in.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Bradley sighed again and his warm hand landed softly on your arm. He squeezed it gently. “Had to make sure you were okay first. You will always be the priority.”

“I shouldn’t be,” you muttered. “God, I’m not worth any of this. You should have seen him tonight, Bradley. He just wouldn’t stop. It was a goddamn miracle I was able to get us out of that without totaling my car. And Jake was just…” Traitorous tears stung at your eyes but you let them fall because Bradley had seen you battered and bloody; he could withstand your tears. “Jake was so nice to me. Patient. He doesn’t deserve to be wrapped up in this. None of you do.”

“Hey,” Bradley started, whispered tone bordering on disappointed. “Stop saying shit like that. I’ve told you this a thousand times: you are worth everything. You deserve better than the shitty hand you were dealt. And remember whose dumbass started all this? Me. It was me.”

“It wasn’t you though,” you said, trying to breathe through the tears still trying to choke you.

But Bradley said nothing else but moved a little closer to you on the bed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You weren’t entirely sure when you fell back asleep but you woke a few hours later with the first rays of daylight peeking through your curtains. It felt like you’d inhaled brick dust after being battered with said brick. Embarrassment was gnawing on your ribs as you rolled out from under your tangled blankets and set your feet on the floor. Everything had gone off the metaphorical rails last night. And a part of you ached at the thought of not having Jake around, even on the periphery, because you knew he would want nothing to do with you after he knew.

You stretched, hearing your back crack, and padded out toward the kitchen where you’d bet Bradley was waiting. And, yep, he was leaning against your counter, sipping on coffee you only kept in the house for him. His hazel eyes looked you over before he set down the mug, porcelain clacking against the linoleum. “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit. Where’s Captain Mitchell?” You asked as you stepped into the kitchen, too, intent on getting to the lemon poppy seed muffins you saw sitting on the counter. Bradley’s hand slowly raising to block your path had you whining. “Why are you being me to me? I am in need of food.”

“You’re a brat,” he said with absolutely no heat. “And how many times has Mav said you could call him Pete when we aren’t on base?” He grabbed one of the muffins and shoved it at you. A few crumbs fell to your kitchen floor and you knew you’d have to sweep later. But not now. You took a large bite and almost moaned at the taste of it and continued to ignore Bradley’s question. Maverick was your superior. That was it. Keeping people at arm’s length kept them safe—well, you knew that he knew about your predicament but that didn’t mean he needed to be tangled up in it, too. “He picked those up for you this morning before he went to Penny’s for breakfast. Said Ice mentioned they were your favorite?”

You nodded and felt your lips curling up in a smile between bites. “He and Sarah took me to the bakery about a week after I got stationed here.” Tom had insisted that the poppy seed muffins were the best he’d ever tasted and after one bite, you agreed.

Bradley reached for one and hummed after he took a bite, nodding before taking another.

You two ate in silence for a little longer before Bradley, with his stupid baby cow hazel eyes, looked at you again. “What?”

“I checked the house over. It looks like nothing’s been messed with. But why don’t you come stay with me-”

“No.”

Bradley looked like he was trying not to sigh. “Punch, c’mon. It’ll just be until-”

“Until what, Bradley? I can handle this. He…he’ll probably disappear again and we can just forget this ever happened.”

“He tried to run you and Seresin off the road, Punch. Let me help.”

“You already did! You brought me muffins and checked out my house after staying the night when you should’ve been out in the desert and working on Mav’s plane. And that’s just today. You have done enough.”

Bradley’s eyes narrowed as he shoved the rest of the muffin into his mouth—which was ridiculous! He wasn’t even savoring it!—before sighing. “Fine. But you call me if you need anything, okay? Or Bob.” He then paused and you hated how his brow arched. That always meant he was going to say something he thought was clever but was actually stupid. “Or you could call Hangman.”

Embarrassed heat started to claw at your neck and you tried to ignore it and the knowing look in Bradley’s eyes. “You’re being mean.”

“You are asking me to tell him what the hell you have lurking in the shadows-”

“Don’t say lurking in the shadows. We aren’t in a horror movie.”

“-and you still refuse to see how much that guy is in love with you?”

The heat was now scalding and you were sure that your internal temperature had risen a few degrees, too. “Ken isn’t in love with me.”

“And you’re in love with him.”

Were you in love with Jake? No. That couldn’t be possible because, after everything, you knew that being in love and being loved just wasn’t in the cards for you. And the Navy would never allow it. And Jake was…Jake was your friend. And so far out of your league it was ridiculous. You weren’t his type anyway. And you didn’t have a type but if you did it would probably be…Jake. But you didn’t have time to think about that now because there was a tight feeling in your chest and your eyes were watering again and you knew that you were actually…probably…definitely…pathetically in love with Jake Seresin. Shit.

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter if I am or not. None of that matters,” you bit out as you blinked back the tears. “Also, when are you going to tell Natasha how you feel?”

Just as you anticipated, Bradley’s cheeks filled with pink and it was his turn to look away. “I’ve got a plan,” he muttered.

The smallest bit of tension slipped from your spine as you realized your diversion had worked, at least marginally. Bradley did have a bad habit of jumping back to conversations you had thought you had moved on from. Oh well. “So you’re not denying it anymore? No more ‘we’re just friends’ or ‘you’re reading into it,’ now?”

The pink in his cheeks grew darker as he reached out to lightly flick at your arm. “I guess.”

Well, at least you had this small victory. And god knows he had been ignoring his feelings for Natasha for years. You surely hadn’t been the only one to notice; Natasha was just as far gone for Bradley but she at least hid it better. You were sure only you and Bob knew about her feelings. “If I were mean, I’d make you tell me your plan. But I am feeling charitable today and will just wish you the best.”

“You’re such a brat.” He pulled you into a hug and sponged a loud kiss onto your forehead before stepping back. After you told him to go home and actually rest, that you’d be fine for the rest of the weekend, and Bradley once again telling you to call him if you needed anything, he left with a final, “lock your door!” thrown over his shoulder.

And then you were alone again. Your heart gave a startled leap when you heard a car door slam a few moments later but you heard your neighbor’s squeaky front door open and close and pushed out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. Great. You eventually swept the kitchen floors and double checked the windows before making the short trek out to your mailbox to check the mail. You stepped back inside and engaged all the locks before sorting through the small stack of envelopes and advertisements. Most were junk and quickly shredded and then put in the recycling bin. You smiled as you recognized your sister’s handwriting across one of the envelopes. Georgie still maintained that you should FaceTime every other week but her letters were a more frequent occurrence. This one was filled with details about her pregnancy and how her husband is being adorable about setting up everything in the nursery. She asked about your job and if you had any suggestions about what to get for your brother, Danny, for his upcoming birthday. You set the letter aside to flip through the rest of the stack but your heart fell to your feet when you saw the last thing in your hand.

It was another goddamn Polaroid. And part of you wished that it had just been you. Just you trapped in that white box. But no. It was Jake. Just Jake. It was him walking out to your car while you’d still been parked at the Hard Deck last night. Poorly drawn blood was bisecting his neck—it was supposed to look like his throat had been slashed, you assumed. It was a shitty drawing but it got the point across.

He could hurt Jake. He could hurt Jake simply because he was near you.

And you wouldn’t ever let that happen. There’d never been a threat like this before—Bradley and Bob never received one and you had been given no threats for them, either. So, it was just Jake. Just your Ken. You needed to keep him safe. Even if it cracked at something behind your ribs.

With all the subtlety of a freight train, you started avoiding him at work. If he walked in a room, you’d walk out. You bribed other ADs to be the ones to handle Jake’s jet. You didn’t go to the Hard Deck if you knew he was going to be there—which was more often than not. You ignored him whenever he called your name. It created a strange waiting game—you wouldn’t have been surprised if you had been called into Admiral Simpson’s office and reprimanded for disrespecting a superior officer. But weeks trickled by and nothing happened except Captain Mitchell giving you a disappointed look and Natasha asking if you and Jake hooked up and if it was bad enough for you to avoid him. After explaining that there was definitely not a hookup (true) and you definitely weren’t avoiding him (lie), you let yourself believe that you had managed to ghost him enough to keep him safe. When you received another Polaroid of you and Jake from the night of Junior’s party with Jake’s face scratched out and the words “I knew he couldn’t handle you” scrawled across the bottom, you knew you’d made the right choice. Then the next note, a singular scrap of paper tucked into the crease between your front door and its frame, read “all alone again? you never know how to treat them!,” your resolve only strengthened.

He could think you hated him forever as long as he was safe.

You could watch him flirt with every beautiful woman who looked in his direction and ignore how your entire body flinched at the sight as long as he was safe.

He just needed to be safe.

It had been three weeks since you had fallen asleep in Jake’s arms. And three weeks since you’d spared him more than a side-eyed glance. Rooster had been acting strange, too. While the other pilot hadn’t been avoiding him exactly, Rooster had volunteered to help Mav with the current Top Gun class and had been squirreled away in his office or in the classroom when not in the air. And while Jake could have metaphorically cornered Rooster by asking him over the comms, he wouldn’t ever bring up your name like that when other people were listening. So, when Maverick decided that the newest class needed to be introduced to Dog Fight Football after three pilots got into a screaming match and nearly collided with Phoenix and Bob during a dogfight simulation, he knew this was an opening he needed to take.

In passing, Jake also took the opportunity to ask if the support crew would be invited and earned an unimpressed look coupled with a, “they have been told that they are encouraged and welcome to come, Seresin.” Jake didn’t even care that Mav probably (definitely) knew what he was really asking because he overheard you telling Fanboy that you’d be there because Penny wanted someone to sit with. Perfect.

And you looked perfect when he saw you the next morning. Sitting on a low rise sun chair with Penny at your side and your toes buried in the sand, you had on that pair of shorts Jake dreamed about and a loose fitting shirt with the Dagger Squadron emblem over your heart. You were beautiful. He wasn’t going to shy away from it any more. No more using ‘special’ to hide everything else he wanted to feel. You were beautiful.

Now, Jake knew he was good looking. There was no arguing that. So, why not use it to his advantage? He strode up to you and watched as you looked at him over the edge of your sunglasses. And your face revealed nothing. You were a stone wall when you craned your neck to look up at him but he was undeterred.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Punch.” He then grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off, dropping it onto your lap as he subtly flexed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Can you hold that for me?”

You seemed to freeze for a moment before grabbing the shirt and neatly folding it. “Sure.” Then you leaned to the side, completely ignoring him, and shouted, “Bradley! Give me your shirt before it gets wet!” Rooster’s shirt eventually turned into Javy’s shirt, Phoenix’s shirt, and Payback’s shirt, and then you made sure that Bob had enough sunscreen on. And Jake watched all of it happen, little more than another bit of sand on your periphery. Just as he was about to call it quits on this attempt, you called out to him. He turned to you to see you looking at him over the edge of your sunglasses again. “Pull up your shorts. You’re about to give everyone a show.”

Penny let out a choked laugh that she tried to hide behind her hand before Jake tugged at the waistband of his shorts, moving them up marginally.

“There you go, Ken. Now you’re almost suitable for public consumption.”

“I prefer private consumption, Punch.” Jake winked at Penny when she laughed again before turning his attention back to you. “I could give you a free preview after we show these kids how to play nicely with each other.”

Jake watched you roll your lips into your mouth before you turned your head away as you pretended (he was sure!) to straighten the small stack of shirts you had collected. “That’s inappropriate. And you of all people don’t know how to play nicely.”

“Oh, Punch,” Jake said, letting as much of his Texan twang seep into his tone as possible when he leaned down to make sure you could look him in the eye (or ogle him correctly). “I play very nicely.”

You licked your lips and looked away but Jake saw your throat bob. “Make sure to tackle Royal into the sand,” you said, mentioning one of the Top Gun pilots who had been involved in the screaming match. “He’s been acting up with the other ADs.”

Well, that was a start. Maybe. “You got it, Punch.”

Then, forty-two seconds into the game, Jake did just that. He looked back at you to see you hiding a laugh behind your hands while Penny roared beside you as Royal yelled about getting sand in his mouth.

The game continued and the grumpy group of pilots eventually started to get along–not as well as the Dagger Squad, but they were something special. Maverick seemed to agree with the exasperated look he shared with Jake and Rooster when they finally called it a day. Penny invited them all up to the Hard Deck for a drink and that seemed to smooth the rest of the rough edges this group came in with, or at least most of them. Maverick bought the first round but Jake was quick to buy another for the Dagger Squadron when that was quickly drained. And, because he was definitely trying to track you through the steadily growing crowd (covertly), Jake spotted you at one of the hightops outside on the deck. Bob and Phoenix were with you, laughing at something you said.

That was the happiest he’d seen you in weeks. Your smile was actually reaching your eyes—your eyes that finally had that light in them that had been missing.

A hand fell onto his shoulder and Jake swung around to see Bradshaw handing him another beer. Even though Jake was less than halfway into the one he already had. “Thanks, man.”

Rooster nodded and took a long pull from his beer before glancing at you, too. He rolled his shoulders before waving his bottle toward the door that led out to the beach. “Let’s talk.” He led Jake onto the sand with quick steps and then stopped just short of the water’s edge.

The other man was quiet for a stretched moment, quiet long enough for Jake to think he wasn’t actually going to say anything but-

“She saved my life.”

Jake tried to process the words before a scratchy “what?” was pulled out of his throat.

Bradshaw took another pull from his beer and then set the empty bottle into the sand by his feet. “The mechanic assigned to me when we were overseas talked a big game—his dad was some big shot who was buddies with the brass at the Pentagon. Name was Luke. He was a shit mechanic, to tell you the truth. Punch would sometimes come in behind him, usually after hours, and double check everything he did. I would talk to her whenever I caught her doing it. She was embarrassed and asked me not to tell anyone and for a few weeks I just didn’t see her, didn’t think anything of it, really. Maybe because I thought she was finally doing something about all the bruising I kept seeing crop on her face. She changed the subject when I asked her once if she was okay.” Jake knew what self-loathing sounded like and right now it was bleeding out of Bradshaw’s every word.

“Then, one day, we get sent out. I run in and half-ass my preflight checks because I was a stupid kid who wanted to make a name for himself. I wasn’t always so careful.” He bared his teeth for a moment. “Stupid. I was so stupid. I’m about to get into the slingshot and she just darts out in front of me, waving her arms and screaming something I can’t hear. She nearly gets taken down by MPs and other officers and I’m fuming, I’m so mad that the rest of my squadron get to go out and I’m grounded by some crazy mechanic.” He shook his head before his hands curled to fists at his sides. “But I’ll never forget how desperate she sounded, screaming that the routine maintenance I would have been needing for the past three weeks hadn’t been done properly. He had been drunk in the hangar. For weeks. When my commander looked my plane over, he said I was lucky I wasn’t sitting in a goddamn body bag. It was a ticking time bomb.”

Jake’s heartbeat was echoing in his ears as he looked at Bradshaw. But more was yet to come.

“I found her trying to hold her leg together just outside the hangar. That asshole took a pair of pliers and…” Rooster’s hand twisted and jerked and Jake could imagine the sharp tool moving like that, moving against you. “He did it just to…just to make her bleed and try to make her apologize for saving my life. One of her eyes was swollen shut and she…” His mouth twisted to the side as if he needed to compose himself before continuing. “She could barely tell me who did it to her before she passed out. Punch was in medical for a week. They wouldn’t let me see her; the only visit I got was from two star who asked what I knew. The next thing I know, she’s been sent back to her shore station and Luke’s disappeared, too. It took me months to learn that all that guy got was a damn Letter of Admonishment and a commercial flight back home.”

“That’s it? That’s all he got?” Rage punctuated each syllable, an unmistakable and inescapable heat starting to burn in his chest.

Rooster scrubbed a hand down his face before continuing. “And what makes it fucking worse is that she was dating him. Dating himand coming to the hangar looking like she’d just gone three rounds with a heavyweight and I didn’t connect the dots until that two star let it slip.”

The rageful heat in Jake’s chest splintered as he thought of you being hurt like that by someone you trusted. How could someone do that to you while claiming to love you? How could anyone do that?

“This was my fault. Mine. She may think it is all hers but if I had asked her just one more time if she needed help, I could have had Luke dishonorably discharged and Punch would be…”

Safe.

Healthy.

Unafraid.

“She was so in love with him and he made her believe he would be the only one who could ever love her. Got it in her mind that no one else would ever lower themselves to love her.”

There was a pointed look shot in his direction that Jake tried to not read too much into (right now).

But Rooster pressed on. “I took a gamble and called Tom…Admiral Kazansky,” he quickly reiterated. “He’d been just about as constant in my life as he could be, you know. Always said I could call if I needed anything. And I just needed her safe.”

The strange look in Rooster’s gaze kept Jake quiet despite the dozens of questions running through his mind.

“He learned what happened and what she did and the next day she gets orders to Hawaii. Then to Kitsap in Washington. The furthest east she got was Fallon in Nevada. She was firmly planted under Kazansky’s oversight. I thought it would keep her safe.”

“But she kept volunteering for deployments,” Jake said after Bradshaw fell into an agitated quiet, like he was searching for words. He didn’t think that your throwaway anecdote from the engagement party would mean this.

“That piece of shit somehow found out where she was going to be at a port call and arrived the day before she was supposed to get back on the carrier. He nearly strangled her to death.”

The murmured stories you had half heartedly given were starting to create a through line. “That was when Bob stepped in. He said they met on deployment.”

Rooster nodded. “Apparently that LoA was to blame for Luke not getting promoted. He blamed her. It didn’t matter that she could have gone in front of the brass and had him court martialed. It didn’t matter that she took money from his just-as-shitty father to keep her quiet. He still saw her as the reason he was given a goddamn slap on the wrist for nearly killing us both. She was still the one that managed to get away. He should be in prison and he was mad about not making rank. Bob was the one who dragged him in front of the brass but that basically amounted to nothing. Again. She refuses to go to the cops because she thinks they’ll just brush it off or cover it up like everyone else does.” He knocked his foot against the empty bottle for a moment before turning to look at you back on the deck. Jake looked, too, seeing you let Phoenix drag you around in a dance. You threw your head back with a laugh as you nearly fell. Bob was cheering you both on. “Kazansky then had her stationed here,” Bradshaw said as they both turned back to look at the ocean. “It was a smart move. Kept her safe. The pilots never stayed but the ADs rarely rotated out. She saw it as a glass half full type of situation—she was trusted with the planes of the best pilots in the Navy but she wouldn’t have the opportunity to deploy as often, if at all. I’m pretty sure Kazansky had Luke shadowbanned from any of the stations he oversaw.”

But now Admiral Kazansky was dead, that was unspoken.

“And now Luke’s back.” The words sounded muffled to Jake’s ears as he said them. His heart thudded against his ribs as his stomach twisted. Luke was back. You were in danger. There was no denying it now.

“He is. And she seems to think that you’ve gained that douchebag’s attention and she just wants to keep you safe,” Bradshaw continued, an edge of exasperation starting to soak each syllable. “You are both so fucking stupid-”

“Hey.”

“-but I need you to help keep her safe, yeah? She’s going to fight you on it. Even more than she has already. But-”

“I’ll do it.” The words punched out of Jake with his next breath. And he meant it. “Whatever you think I need to do, I’ll do it.”

His wingman almost smiled at that. Almost. But he shook his head instead. “Seresin-”

“Punch?”

Both Jake and Bradshaw whipped their heads around back to look at the deck.

“Punch?!” Phoenix was leaning over the railing to crane her neck to the side in search of you, presumably. Bob was doing the same in the opposite direction but his face was scrunched in something almost like fear. “Punch?”

You appeared around the corner, balancing a tray of new drinks for your little group. Both Phoenix and Bob’s faces relaxed as they took the offered drinks, each kissing your cheek in thanks. As you set the tray down and said something to them Jake couldn’t hear before you turned just enough to see Jake looking at you. The carefree smile on your face faded as you glanced at Rooster at his side. You knew he had been told. Your chin tucked to your chest before you abruptly turned back to your other friends.

You truly thought he wouldn’t still want you?

That rage returned, burning behind Jake’s ribs. Not at you. Never at you. At Luke who had beaten you down physically and emotionally hard enough for you to believe that no one would love you.

But Jake was here. He would always be here. Waiting for you.

A/N: thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!

#Jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake hangman x reader #tgm #top gun maverick #female reader

492 notes · View notes

abbyromanoff · 9 months

Note

i have an idea/request!

could be series worthy, who knows

but basically, if you’ve watched purple hearts on netflix, i’m kind of thinking about type of storyline where g!p nat is (kind of) in luke’s position and y/n in cassie’s position (both of the character’s backstory can be changed) but yk, i was just thinking about military!natty and how hot she would look wearing a military uniform 😋

HEART TO HEART

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 2168

WARNINGS: angst, small smut near the end, fluff, Nat is in the military, mentions of death, arranged marriage, money problems, miscommunications, think that’s all!

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

“Look, I don’t understand why you care so much, we both knew this day would come and besides, this was supposed to be an arranged marriage, we aren’t meant to actually fall in love.” Nat argued, turning to look at your saddened state with guilt hidden in her features. The two of you had only known each other for a few months after you had gotten married. Neither of you had wanted to, but your parents made sure that you both knew it was needed.

She was going into the military, a dream of hers since she was a little girl watching action movies with her dad. She had been struggling with finances for years, and so was her family. And in hopes of caring for both herself and her loved ones, she needed the benefits of joining the army, but that was only achievable with marriage.

You had come from a well-financed family, but that didn’t mean they were willing to hand you money whenever you asked. While trying to reach your goal of becoming a singer and songwriter, it had cost you loads of checks with no return. You were barely making it by every week with your part-time job and needed money quickly. Your parents offered a suggestion, and at first, you thought it may be a good idea, that was until now.

It would be a platonic marriage and once it was no longer needed, you’d depart with a divorce signing, a possibility of remaining friends or forgetting each other’s existence. But it didn’t go as planned, you felt wrong for trying to go on dates or sleep with others, and you’d dream of your wife on the regular. It wasn’t hard to fall for her, she was a respectful woman with dreams of meeting another similar to her and becoming a family man. Not to mention her beauty was beyond imaginable, you were star-struck the moment you laid eyes on her.

“You think I don’t know that, Nat? Do you think I wanted this? To fall in love with you when I’m not supposed to even sleep in the same bed as you?” While the suit she wore made her look even more attractive, it only pained you to know she’d be wearing that as she left to risk her life for the ones who didn’t even know of her name.

“I can’t help how I feel, Natasha. I know this is your dream and I love that for you, I do. But, I- I just don’t want to lose you, I don’t think I could handle it.” She sighed and averted her eyes to the wooden floor, quiet sniffles being heard from your end. You suddenly felt arms being wrapped around your body in an attempt at a hug and you graciously accepted it, knowing whose warmth it was.

“It’s okay, I’m here.” She whispered into your shoulder as her hat poked your head. Truth be told, you weren’t the only one feeling this way. She had tried hiding it in hopes you wouldn’t pick up on it, and you didn’t, you were too busy worrying about your own feelings that you hadn’t even considered hers.

She was hoping that this marriage wouldn’t have to end or else she’d have to learn to live without you again. She hadn’t feared the thought of death before you came into her life, now she feared losing you more than anything.

“I’m sorry-”

“No, no, don’t apologize, Y/N. I understand, okay? I’m not mad at you, I could never be.” She interrupted, mumbling her sweet words into your neck. She was able to catch a small whiff of your perfume, and she could suddenly remember the time you begged her to take you to the store and help you pick out a new fragrance. After nearly an hour of searching, she chose this one, and you had worn it every day since.

“I don’t think I’d be able to handle hearing that you…that you died without getting to tell you how I truly feel.” She nodded, letting you continue on. Her heart felt like it was ripping when you stuttered over your words, your weakness on display. You were never one to show it, but you couldn’t stop the shake in your voice or the tears on your cheeks.

“I know, baby, I know.” The name brought a small crack of a smile to your lips, but it soon faded when you were brought back to the remembrance of where you were. She was set to leave in less than an hour, and you didn’t know if this would be your last hour with her.

“I- I need to go, I’m going to be late if I don’t leave.” You quickly rushed to tighten your hands around her when feeling hers start to loosen.

“No, no, no, please. Please don’t leave me here, Natty.” She wanted more than nothing to listen to you and stay, but her hopes and dreams were coming into play and so were the lives of many, she couldn’t ruin this opportunity.

“I have to, Y/N, I don’t have a choice.” You understood, you did, but your heart and mind were at a battle. Your mind was telling you to force her to stay, live your life happily and tell her how you feel, but your heart was telling you to let her go, that you were being selfish trying to ruin her dreams when she only supported yours. You always told her to follow her heart, and you knew you had to take your own advice.

“I know, I know you don’t. God, I- I’m sorry, I just- I don’t think I can see my life without you now. All I see when I look into the future is you, and I don’t want to lose you, I can’t. I really can’t, Nat.” She wanted to tell you everything, that she felt the same, but there was no time. If she didn’t leave she’d risk everything, she’d risk her job that she went through so much mental and physical pain to have.

“I love you, lyubov moya. (my love)” That was the last time you heard her voice in what felt like years. You weren’t able to handle the pain of living in the house that carried so many memories in it, so you made the tough decision to move out. The house was still in her name, and you continued to pay for as many bills as it required, even while still struggling to pay for your own.

It took eight months and twenty-six days before Nat was able to return, she counted each day. You were on her mind the entire time. When she had gotten badly hurt on a mission, the unbearable pain causing her to wish for death, she thought of you. She thought of everything you had together, how she wouldn’t be able to confess if she didn’t make it.

At the same time, she worried you moved on, found someone new and started a life with them that she would only be able to dream of having. Would you be able to move on this quickly? She knew that if you truly did love her as much as you said, you wouldn’t be able to, and she didn’t want you to. But another part of her wished you would, she wanted you to find peace and happiness, and she feared she wouldn’t be able to give you that.

Every day that she could, she’d write you letters. She wasn’t able to call or text you as she was told, so she’d pick up a pen and write paragraphs on end about how much she missed you. She could only hope you read or even received them.

She came home today, and hearing the complete silence in her home brought tears of anguish. All she wanted was to be greeted by you, but she was guessing you had left her, maybe even for good. There was a pile of sealed letters on the doorstep and she realized they were the ones she sent without knowing of your new address. She felt ashamed, embarrassed to have sent all of those with the thought that you’d read them and realize she still thought of you every damn day. But you didn’t know, you were left clueless to her love. She needed to change that.

You heard a knock on your apartment door as you finished brushing your teeth and were about to grab a glass of water. You furrowed your brows in confusion before slowly walking to the door, you never had guests, especially at this hour. You looked through the peephole and stepped back at what you saw, or who you saw.

Nat heard a rushing of locks unlocking and smiled to herself, you knew she was home. You opened the door and hurriedly let your arms wrap around her in a hug, finally feeling her warm embrace after so long. The emptiness in your heart was slowly being filled the longer you held onto her.

“Hello, detka. (baby)” Her eyelids squeezed shut as her arms held the same tightness around your body as yours did to her, she was too afraid to let you go.

“When did you get home?” She finally leaned back, resting her forehead against yours gently as her hand moved to cup your cheek.

“Just a few hours ago, you were the first person I wanted to see.” You smiled before your eyes drifted to notice the cardboard box sitting on the ground next to her. She looked in that direction and chuckled to herself before explaining.

“I wrote to you every day that I could. I didn’t know you moved so I sent them to the house, I thought I’d bring them in case you, I don’t know, wanted to look at them or something.” She hesitantly spoke, fear of rejection scorching through her. She didn’t know why she was so afraid, it was you, after all, and she didn’t fear anything when she was with you.

“Oh, Nat, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry.” She shushed you and moved her other hand to your face, cupping both of your cheeks and having you look at her.

“Shh, don’t apologize, I’m not upset with you. If anything, I’m more upset with myself.”

“You did nothing wrong, nothing at all.” She looked down suddenly, shuffling her feet nervously.

“I’m sorry for leaving that day. I wanted to stay, I wanted to tell you everything, and I wish I did. That’s why I wrote all these letters in hope that you’d realize I feel the same. I love you, Y/N. I love you more than anything in this world, and I think I always have.” She was swapping her gaze between your eyes and lips, and you knew that if you didn’t make the move, she never would. So, you leaned in closer, letting your mouth press into hers as you sank into the feeling of her plump lips. You were standing on your tiptoes to reach her height, and you reached up to pull her hat off of her head, letting your fingers run through her hair as you pulled her further into you. Her body pressed against yours as she grinned into the kiss, her tongue poking your lips and exploring your mouth when you granted her access. She was desperate to feel you in any way that you’d let her, and you were on the exact same page.

“I love you so much, Y/N, and every day I regret not telling you that sooner. So, if you’ll let me, I want to make it up to you.” She mumbled when you pulled back to catch your breath. You panted, your chest rising up and down as you admired her in full glory. You weren’t able to take notice of her clothing when you were too busy registering that she was actually here and it wasn't just a dream. But seeing her in the camo pants adorned by a buckled belt and a dark green shirt made you feel things you’ve never felt before she came into your life.

Her hands found their way to the back of your thighs as she lifted you into her hold, your wandering hands stopping at the biceps that flexed under her shirt. You could feel a small tint in her pants and bit your lip as you shuttered. Your hands traveled to the back of her neck as you played with the baby hairs, feeling goosebumps rise to the surface of her soft skin.

“May I?” She walked further into your cheap apartment, and you suddenly felt ashamed at the state of the place. It showed off your struggles in payment, but hidden under that, it showed the reason you were able to meet what you hoped would be the love of your life.

“You may.”

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judebelle · 5 months

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Gavi breaking up with the reader bc he needs space and stuff and she takes it really hard and it affects her a lot but he realizes he was wrong for it and gets her back. Just a lot of angst but fluff ending plssss. You are the bestttt

rekindled - p.g. x reader

authors note : thank you guys for the love on my recent posts, and for sending in requests. psa, the more requests i get, the more motivated i am and the more i post!

cw : just heart wrenching angst for the most part, but it gets fluffy dwww!!, swearing, sad :(

wc : 2.3k

pairing : pablo gavi x fem!reader

---

“i just don’t have the time for you anymore!”

his words truly devastated you, tearing apart the delicate threads of your heart. couldn’t he at least try? why was he just giving up?

“i don’t understand why we can’t just try to work it out, pablo! we could compromise, we can even make a schedule.. we could make it work!”

it seemed like only you were really trying, and he seemed eager to end this relationship. over what? a busy schedule? you felt useless, standing in his empty home, the echoes of your voices ringing in your ears. it was as if you were singlehandedly trying to stop a sinking ship from descending deep into the dark and bottomless blue.

“it’s not that easy, y/n! i have a lot on my plate! between football practices and matches, i barely have time for myself anymore. and then adding on this relationship, i need to make time for you as well! its too much. i know you wouldn't understand but-"

"i wouldn't understand? what is that supposed to mean? there are two people in this relationship. and it's not like i sit around all day and do nothing! i also have my own things to do! you make it seem like i am so high maintenance, like i'm too much for you to handle!"

you were growing increasingly angry as the argument progressed. how little did he think of you?

"you know that's not what i meant.."

you sniffled, "i dont think i know you at all anymore."

---

it had been a week since the break up.

you tried not to let it affect you too much, but his absence left a crater in your heart you were left too weak to fill.

the breakup casted a shadow over the once vibrant hues of your life. you found yourself dealing with the aftermath of shattered love. you were picking up the shattered pieces of your heart, the sharp glass cutting through the skin of your hands. you felt the pain during tearful nights when sleep also abandoned you, and in the empty spaces that once resonated with shared laughter.

the breakup left an indelible mark on you.

you didn't call anybody. you just sat at home. it was like pablo's words became your new reality, now you were truly sitting around all day and doing nothing.

you hadn't heard from him at all, thanking the universe knowing that if you did, it would be too much on your aching heart.

---

one month had passed.

you were finally feeling like yourself again. yes, you missed his warm embrace and touching words, but you learned to live without it.

you couldn't depend on someone to be the sole reason for your happiness. you still loved him, and you always will, but fuck did he cut deep.

---

pablo's pov

pablo found himself grappling with an unexpected wave of regret.

the relentless demands of his busy life had driven a wedge between the two of you, leaving him to confront the harsh reality of what he had lost.

pablo now spent the time he would've spent with you alone, in his home. he didn't hang out with friends. he didn't go out for dinner, just ordered food to his house. he felt lonely and bored without you.

how ironic.

the void left by your absence became easily recognizable to everyone around him, and he began to yearn for the warmth of your shared moments.

but pablo kept the painful truth of your breakup to himself, unable to utter the words aloud to anyone.

"hey bro, what's on your mind?"

he felt an arm drape across his shoulders, startling him from his thoughts.

pablo was at barcelona's training grounds, and didn't realize his slumped posture and absentminded features were noticeable to anyone but him.

pedro was walking next to him, his arm slung around the back of his neck.

"hola?? what's up with you?" pedro was insisting on finding out why his close friend was acting so strange.

"sorry, just tired.. didn't get much sleep last night." in all honesty, he hadn't. he spent most of his night lying awake, thinking of how badly he had messed up. his screen time was through the roof, scrolling through your feed and posts, reminiscing on what was once his, about the warm soul that would sleep next to him in this very bed.

"ai, don't lie now. you know i can see right through you. what's wrong, bro?" pedro wasn't giving up, pestering pablo on his silence.

pablo gulped and turned to his friend, "i.. i messed up bad bro, like really bad..".

he didn't elaborate further, unable to bring himself to come to terms with what he had done.

"uhh, that's cool and all, but it would be helpful if you explained, man. i can't help you if you dont tell m-"

"i broke up with y/n."

pablo shut his mouth after, the words leaving the bitter taste of regret in his mouth. he might've said that too loudly, causing some staff members and teammates to look his direction.

pedro didn't seem to believe it, raising his eyebrow at the boy.

"you what? wha... when?"

everyone who knew pablo knew that he was absolutely smitten with you. you were always on his mind, and he was quick to talk about you if he had the chance. it annoyed his friends sometimes, but it was cute how much he loved you.

the fact that he had broken up with you was appalling.

"around a month ago.." pablo confessed, his hands hidden behind his back like a guilty child. "i told her i was too busy to focus on our relationship, and i told her that i needed to focus on my career. it's honestly a load of bullshit. i think i was just stressed and took it out on her."

pedro's confusion was evident, his eyebrows drawn together.

"i don't understand, bro. your schedule was never an issue for you before. and why didn't you tell me? i could've, i don't know, been there for you!"

it was like pablo was being scolded, and he really did deserve it. he'd lost you because of his own stress and poor time management. you didn't deserve to suffer because of him.

"pablo, what were you thinking? i mean, i can't believe it! i would've never expected you to- okay, i'm sorry.." pedro stopped his lecturing upon seeing his friend growing increasingly upset. "my advice to you is to go apologize. and not just a quick 'sorry', but a good one. get her flowers, chocolate - i don't know, whatever chicks like. just go say sorry."

pablo looked up at his friend, hesitation on his features. "what if she doesn't take me back? w-what would i do then?" he stuttered. he was worried you would realize how big of an asshole he was, and how much he didn't deserve you.

"i mean, i wouldn't blame her," pedro smiled teasingly. "but i know y/n pretty well, she would understand." he laid a comforting hand on pablo's shoulder. "don't sweat it bro, it'll all be okay."

---

your pov

you were currently sprawled across your couch, stuffing popcorn in your mouth as you binged a show you had already seen a million times.

the bell rang.

that hadn't happened in a while. the unfamiliar sound rang in your head before you pulled yourself up from your comfortable position, walking to the door. you yanked the door open, popcorn still in your mouth.

you looked up to see the man you thought you'd never see again.

"..hola.." he whispered before sending you a soft smile. you froze in your spot. not knowing what to do as you weren't expecting this at all.

it was like you'd turned cold from shock. you acted before you thought, slamming the door on his face. you scrambled to fixed your hair and finish chewing your popcorn.

giving yourself a moment to breathe and think, you quickly opened the door again, worried he might leave. surprisingly, he was still standing there, waiting for you.

"can i come in?"

---

you let him in, of course. how could you not?

he walked in with a hunched back. his feet dragged against the floor wearily.

you told him to sit on the couch and wait as you grabbed two waters, one for him, and one for you.

the unexpected arrival of pablo, whom you thought had become a distant echo of the past, sent tremors through the newly rebuilt walls around your heart.

is there a possibility of rekindling what was once lost?

you finally dragged yourself out of the kitchen and back into the living room to where pablo was sitting with his legs shaking anxiously and his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. there were still popcorn crumbs on the couch, the halfway eaten bowl of it placed on the table across from the paused movie displayed on the tv.

oh, how you wish he warned you before showing up at your doorstep.

he turned his head to see you standing tensely in the doorframe. he smiled awkwardly as he scooted over to give you some space to sit far from him.

you sat down and placed the waters on the table in front of you. you took a deep breath before gulping hard. you eventually found the courage to croak out a few words.

"what happened, is everything alright?"

the air was thick, the unspoken history you shared lingering in the air. his eyes were red and cratered by bags. he tried to hide the lines on his face by putting on a decent outfit and gelling his hair back, but you saw right through his façade.

"i just.. wanted to apologize.."

your silence was his cue to continue speaking.

sitting in the soft glow of your living room, pablo took a deep breath before breaking the heavy silence.

"i need you to know how sorry i am for what i did, y/n. breaking up with you was the biggest mistake of my life, and i've spent every day regretting it. i miss you, not just the idea of you, but you - the way you laugh, the way you challenge me... i was foolish, and i can't keep living my life without you in it. i came here to make things right, to find a way for us to work through the challenges together. can we try again? can you forgive me?" His vulnerable pleas hung in the air while also knocking you down like heavy wind.

your gaze flickered with a mix of surprise as pablo's heartfelt words settled in the room. the weight of his apology hung between you, and for a moment, time seemed to stretch as you discerned the sincerity in his eyes.

you took a moment before responding, your voice a sorrowful blend of vulnerability and caution.

"pablo, you hurt me deeply when you walked away. i've spent nights replaying those moments, the day you left me, wondering if i meant as much to you as you say now...". The room held a fragile hope as your eyes locked.

in a desperate plea, pablo's words spilled forth with an intensity so raw it stung in the depths of your heart. his eyes reflected the sincerity of his emotions. "y/n, i can't imagine my life without you. every moment without you feels like a void i can't fill. i was foolish, and i let something so precious slip away." his voice wavered with a mix of regret and hope, showing the depth of his desire to rebuild what was lost.

"please, i'm begging you, give me another chance. i know i hurt you, and i'm willing to do whatever it takes to make things right. i've learned from my mistakes, and i'm not the same person who walked away. i love you, and i'm ready to fight for us. please, take me back."

you listened to pablo's heartfelt pleas carefully. after a thoughtful pause, you spoke with a calm and resolute tone,

"pablo, i appreciate your honesty and the effort you're putting into this. it's not easy to admit mistakes, and i can see the sincerity in your eyes. but i need some space to process everything. let's take things one step at a time."

pablo quietly absorbed your response. he nodded, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of his actions. "i understand, y/n," he said with a quiet sincerity,

"i know i hurt you, and i can't expect you to erase that pain overnight. i'm here, whenever you're ready." his words left a subtle sting on your heart. he raised up from the couch, before leaving with the same hunch of his back and drag of his steps that he entered with.

the sound of the door latching closed sent a stab through your heart. your eyes began to water as the painful image of him leaving stuck in your mind.

you were standing in the doorway, and felt a sudden surge of clarity and yearning. spontaneously, you threw the door open and rushed after him, the urgency to convey your changing feelings propelling you forward. "pablo!" you called out, running down the driveway, and as he turned in surprise, you closed the distance between you. without a word, you reached out, cupped his face in your hands, and pressed your lips to his. his hands wrapped around your waist as he dipped you forward slightly, embracing your warmth and forgiveness. your brows furrowed into the kiss as you felt the craters in your heart fill slowly.

the kiss was heavy, holding many unspoken emotions—forgiveness, longing, and the realization that sometimes, the heart finds its way back when the connection is too strong to resist.

in that moment, under the dim streetlights, things changed between you two, and it seemed as though the process of reconciliation was beginning to unfold.

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 2 months

Note

Omgggggg Hiiii

Can I request a One Piece Whitebeard x Wife!Reader.

Like since Whitebeard Is known as Pops by his Crew the Reader could be known as 'Mom' or 'Mama'. And let's do like the Timeline like when Ace was first brought on the Ship. And since Whitebeard is like 21 feet tall, make the Reader like 20 feet tall.

Like, who doesn't love a Giant Woman who can kill you and step on you???

-The Whitebeard Crew was full of strong warriors, gathered from all corners of the ocean, each one with special skills and talents, some with Devil Fruit abilities, and some with just natural talent.

-There was definitely a hierarchy in his crew, with the different commanders each watching over a different squadron in the crew, with Whitebeard on top, or that’s what everyone says, but the truth is there is one person higher than Pops- you!

-You were his darling wife, having married him many years ago, after the two of you both left the Rock Pirates. You were a vision to Pops, standing at eighteen feet, hot as lava, and you could kick his ass and anyone who opposed you- you were the perfect catch!

-So, as you traveled, building your own crews, building your family with all the sons Edward had adopted, you enjoyed your new position on the crew as Mama!

-Everyone called you Mama, and everyone respected you, and if you were disrespected by anyone- it was like a declaration of war.

-You thought it was rather cute, seeing all those young ones so protective of you, but it was even cuter to see Edward leading the charge, despite all of them knowing full well that you could easily handle yourself. You didn’t earn your obnoxiously high bounty just sitting around, looking cute, and baking cookies!

-Here recently, there had been a young man doing his best to attack your husband, wanting to join the crew, and normally your husband accepted most anyone onto the crew, but not Ace.

-You inquired about this, kissing your husband on his forehead, as he was sitting, drinking some ale and he just grinned, “I want to see his drive- I need to see if he can handle this.”

-Many grew used to Ace’s antics, showing up on the ship, demanding Whitebeard to fight him, only to get knocked down. A few, like Marco, were sympathetic, as he knew what Edward was doing.

-You approached Ace this time, after his defeat, bringing over a plate of seafood fried rice while he was pouting again, but grateful he hadn’t been thrown overboard again.

-Ace heard the footsteps before you spoke, “Ace?” he instantly froze, hearing that it was you, but he didn’t turn around, at least immediately as you set the plate down before taking a seat next to him, the two of you sitting on the whale figurehead together.

-You could see that Ace was a good person, a little headstrong, but he was a good person. You lifted a hand to his head and ruffled his hair gently. You felt the small flinch, which you could tell that it wasn’t out of fear- more of surprise, but he did nothing, letting you dote quietly on him.

-You saw him pick up the plate and started to eat, which made you smile before you spoke, giving him some words of encouragement, “Edward is a lot like you- stubborn and headstrong. He wants you to prove that you’re not just some upstart hothead. You’ve got this Ace.”

-You remained silent as he sniffled softly, crying into his food before he gave a small nod, you were so comforting, so warm- just like a mother.

-And when Ace finally did prove himself to your husband, you cheered with everyone else, happy to see that he finally earned Pops’ approval, which of course led to a huge party.

-You curled up on your husband’s lap, pressing your lips against his cheek which made him grin softly, “You encouraged him, didn’t you?”

-You just gave him a grin, “I just told him that he was like you- stubborn.” He laughed loudly which made you grin as you turned to look out, seeing everyone celebrating.

-You weren’t going to change anything for the world.

#one piece #whitebeard #portgas d ace

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suchagreatimetobealive · 2 months

Text

𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ~°•*'▪︎

Dazai Osamu x Reader

- Tw¡! Extremely toxic relationship, self-destructive behaviour, delirious behaviour, brief mentions of a past toxic relationship with a possessive partner, angst without comfort.

- You know Dazai since his mafia days, but he never indulged you into joining the activity. When finally he left the toxic environment behind, he tried to make the wall between you and him crumble. Sadly, it didn't last long.

- Very rushed, I'm sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes just felt inspirated, I need sleep tbh.

Dazai Osamu has always been defined as someone sadistic, enjoying the pain shine in his victims's eyes, while he bend them over and shots them from behind, after he just reassured them he would not. Not even shooting them on a vital organ; the shoulder, or the arm, so that they crumble on the ground, bloody, in agonising pain, tight grip against the wound in the desperate attempt to soothe the suffering.

He takes pain so rationally, so detached from any mental attachment from someone that It's natural to think he does feel the pain others feels; just not on an empathic basis. He feeds off of it, delighted by the way his enemies -especially the older men who thinks of him a kid- look at him with fear and terror as soon as they realise he's not a normal 15 years old who needs to screw off.

But the truth is that Dazai Osamu is a masochist. A huge, helpless masochist who has moments that really makes you scared. You are not even sure if you are scared of him, or for him. He has no intention to hurt you, you know it; but at one point, you are afraid of him.

Afraid he could harm you to self-destroy.

The day he begged you, on his knees, hopelessly sniffling and sobbing soundly, so pitifully it brought you to tears as well to tear off his limbs is the day you really started to feel the agony in your chest, the dread pooling in your chest, a sudden nauseating sensation ascending from your abdomen to your throat.

That's the day you realised how serious he's sick in the head. He never acted like that with you before, only implied jokes about the thematic, nothing serious. Or so you always thought.

A copy mechanism Dazai Osamu utilises also is, as mentioned earlier, self-destruction.

He would go as far as hurting you just to make you despise him, watch him with hate; he knows it would break his heart, he feels so frustrated when you look at him with worry, the aggravation in his pupils as he tears up even more, as if it's the worse thing that could have happened to him.

But as soon as that gaze appears even for a fleeting second, he's instantly on you, clinging on your side with his hands locked on your waist, head buried on his chest, loud thumping of his heart, restless as the panic rushes to his veins. Soft, trembling hands caressing your scalp as the fingers dig between your strands sweetly, soothingly as if to make you forget what just happened.

But everything that happen each passing night becomes so much, the overwhelming feeling of everything that each time happens, the weight of his words, you feel like you are losing your sanity staying with someone who already lost it a long while ago.

Because you can't fix him, you know. It's impossible to stay with him, he's so broken that instead of you making him feel better, he is slowly destroying you and also himself in the process.

You can't believe even if he looks you straight in the eyes that this whole relationship isn't hurting him.

You had problems with a possessive partner in the past, and that's been hell, so hard but at the end it went away, at the end you fought him, you broke free. But this?

How can you handle this?

How can you handle Dazai Osamu, if he can't even handle himself? You thought you knew what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to become his partner. Turns out you absolutely didn't. At all.

You can't take it anymore.

Trying to hold him together is making you lose yourself. Each day your anxiety becomes unbearable, your heart always beating so hard against your chest, in fear he could invite you to his apartment the evening. That only means you would witness one of his crisis, or even more than one.

Poor boy wakes up in the middle of the night with a loud gasp, sweat, tears and a raising panic attack as his restless brain registers that it's not real, your chest rising and falling softly, your calm breath seemingly to momentarily also soothe his racing thoughts.

Momentarily.

And that's how another sleepless night at his apartment happens, with you lulling him, keeping his head on your chest, scratching his scalp and giving some kisses here and there, a obsessive chant falling off his lips, same mumbles on loop as he sniffles silently, face wet in tears as whatever thoughts possess his brain.

But you can't break up with him.

This is different; your lover is toxic, but you can't leave him like this. He's suffering. He's suffering so much your heart ache so much every time you see him, but It's just too much.

Everything has become too much, to the point you can't look at him without trembling, panicking, crying and shaking and going into an internal panic.

And he knows, he sees how much this affected you, his selfishness hit again, he's such a cruel creature, isn't he?

Still the ruthless, heartless beast he was back in the mafia. He's hurting you; out of all people, the one who he's hurting is you.

The love of his life, the very reason he's still breathing, the only person who can make him feel safe. But you don't feel safe around him anymore.

You see him as a imminent danger, someone you have to run away from. There are no more goodmorning kisses, there are no more smiles coming your way as he enters the agency, there is nothing.

Not a kiss, not a hug, there's just.. terror.

The way your limbs hugs him like he's made of glass and could break at any touch, the way you curled your fingers around his cheeks with devotion in your eyes now replaced by fear.

Fear hidden behind an anxious smile, lips painfully pulled up in a fake smile every time he encounters your eyes.

And your mental health doesn't get missed by your cowokers; Kunikida often stops by to ask if everything is alright, you are so stiff and It's unusual from someone like you. Ranpo happen checks by as well, giving you subtle glances from the side of the room from time to time and giving you sweets, sometimes dragging you with him to catch some air outside.

He doesn't know if you talked to him, knowing him he already knows anyways. Dazai doesn't even want to focus about what Ranpo knows actually, or he wouldn't even show up in front of the agency door again, he swears.

It would be so shameful.

Atsushi often worries as well, acting similarly to Ranpo, but using more empathy than the older male does, gifting you cute stuff such as peluches, your favorite food, random things he asked to know if you like them or not. Everyone, in their every own way, tries to make you feel better, but nothing can really erase your problem.

And It's so painful, so heart-crashing knowing he is the problem.

And it is also for you, because you love him.

Loved him. At this point, you aren't even sure anymore if you are with him because you want to or because you are just concerned about how he would react if you break up with him.

What if he kills himself?

You would never forgive yourself if he would do that after your decision.

You really don't know what to do, each evening without him sending you on a spiral of desperation, agony and torturous paranoia that just doesn't shake off no matter what you do.

You can't live like this anymore.

"I..." your words struggle to leave your tongue, stuck like a block of ice you can't pull out, blocked between your teeth. It will take time for it to melt, but you don't have all the time of the world.

It's a now or never situation, you don't know when you will get all this courage again in the future. It's not like you hold much of it now anyways, but surely you feel braver than usual.

"...you want to break up with me, right" if it's supposed to be a question, it does not feel like one at all. Your eyes snaps on his, and you flinch.

For the first time in years, you flinch looking in the eyes of someone. Of a man.

The man you loved for years, Dazai Osamu, you don't even recognise him anymore.

You can't find him inside those pupils, the lost gone Osamu you knew didn't left a trace of himself behind.

"...yes" you grit your teeth, cursing yourself under your breath for how weak your voice sounds. Your eyes darts towards the ground, hands gripping each other behind your back, anxiety swallowing you whole, in a cage you can't escape from. That's what his gaze gives you; each time you lock eyes with him, there's no more love, there's no more devotion, no more affection.

You feel, indirectly, forced to stay with him. All because you are afraid.

"Okay" okay? You heard well?

You can't help yourself, your eyes snaps back towards his face; hollow eyes welcoming your surprised one. "...okay?" You speak again, as if to have the reassurance that you heard well.

He gives you a nod, stuff his hands on his coat, and his lips pull upwarbs. His expression is so empty, so void of any single emotion you feel like you are looking up at a corpse, dead with a smile on it's face.

It makes a shiver run down your spine, hands still scrutching themselves nervously behind your back subconsciously.

"You.. will do nothing?" You ask, voice barely a whisper as you don't look away. No matter how lifeless he looks right now, you don't want him to actually die.

But does he even have to keep living? And for what? Watch you find a man (or a woman) who deserves you, someone who deserves your love? His gaze fall on the ground slowly. "...depends on what you mean" his voice is rough, of course he can't hold his tears much longer, the restrain is about to fall off, he can feel his eyes burning so terribly. He would love to do it in your arms right now.

He wants to fall on his knees and scream his lungs out, so much pain not enough to yell out with a single shout.

"..please, don't kill yourself"

"What else?"

"What..?" You stop. You are sure you stopped breathing after his question, a confused frown composing in your worried expression.

"I mean," he speaks slowly "What else is there to be said? I don't have any proper answer to that. I.." his voice falter when he take a look at you "...I won't start again, please calm down.." tone breaking at the end of the sentence, every teardrop spilling from your eyes at the anticipation of yet another breakdown that's about to come feels like a knife stabbing his chest insistently.

What? What is he saying? He won't start anything? How is this somehow even worse than starting? You don't want him to die, you don't want him to kill himself. You just want him to see someone that is capable of helping him, It's impossible no one is able to fix Dazai Osamu. At least a little bit, even if the bare minimum. You don't want to weight the death of one of your best of lovers, the one man you trusted so blindly, who made you feel so loved and cherished. You will never thank him enough for those years, you will never regret them, but you don't want your entire mental health to be thrown away because of his.

Because all humans beings have to be selfish sometimes, to get out of it alive.

But Dazai Osamu feels like he's been too selfish, not asking you himself to break up, waiting you and hoping for something that's never to happen.

For what you know, that's the last time you ever see him again. He completely disappears from sight. The agency has no idea where he ended, if he killed himself somewhere and nobody found his body.

Just know that if Dazai Osamu doesn't want to be found, he will not get found.

Lurking in the shadows is something he does so well, disguising himself and becoming one with the darkness, forgotten by the light, acting as if he never reached it, not knowing what it is like, what it feels like to receive some love.

And that's exactly where Dazai Osamu rests; in the darkness, right where he came from.

Everybody said mafia blood just flows in his veins, and he doesn't even have the strength to deny that to himself anymore. He disappointed you, Odasaku up there must be so deeply disappointed already from how he turned out to be; he tried, he really did, but the mask can't be worn forever.

Dragging a scalpel on someone's throat has never been easier anyway.

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