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itoshiexx · 9 months

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can i dance with your s/o?

how the blue lock boys react when someone asks to dance with you.

pairings: itoshi rin, itoshi sae, reo mikage x fem!reader (separate) | warnings: jealousy, slight possessiveness, overall fluff, teeny bit suggestive on sae's

notes: hi guys! i wasn't planing on posting anything since i haven't been able to write (studying for the bar and all), but since i reached 300 followers, i thought maybe i could post this lil thing that was in my drafts for a long time lol it's quite different from what i usually do but i hope y'all like it! and tysm for 300!! <3

Itoshi Rin

the lights of the room flickered around the sparkles in your long dress and practically made you glow. the piece of clothing was beautiful — an italian design rin bought for you specially for that night, where you would accompany him to a charity event. there were hundreds of football players like him in the venue, but rin’s sight could only focus on you.

a song was playing softly in the background, and he admired you from afar, sitting in the bar along with some of his teammates while you chatted with their girlfriends, who became your friends pretty quickly. that was just how you were, always easy going and approachable, very unlike him. it was easy to be drawn to you like you were the sun, and rin was more than happy to be in your orbit.

then, the song changed to a slow paced tune, and he saw your beautiful eyes turn to him and sparkle just as much as your dress — if not more. the girls you were chatting with came towards their respective boyfriends, but you remained there, just staring, as if knowing it was a lost cause.

itoshi rin didn’t like to dance.

and while he was distracted by your orbs, someone decided to talk.

“can i dance with your girlfriend?”

the voice sent chills down his spine, and rin turned to the owner with a harsh glare, scrutinizing the image of none other than itoshi sae. they still had a pretty fucked up relationship, even after rin went pro, and he was not happy to hear what he just heard.

“what the fuck did you say?” his tone came out slowly, a veiled threat.

sae didn’t even blink. “i asked to dance with your girlfriend. you are certainly not doing it, and since i didn’t come with anyone, it would be rude to leave her there. haven’t you learned shit, rin?”

a vein nearly popped in his forehead. it was already bad enough to hear the condescending tone in sae’s voice, but implying he could take better care of you than him? no, that wouldn’t do.

“fuck off, you shitty brother. don’t come near her.”

he stormed off to the dance floor, leaving his shitty brother and his knowing smirk behind, immediately going to your figure. he could tell you were confused, but gave you no time to ask, taking your soft hand in his and dragging you to where the other couples were dancing.

both of his hands found home in your waist, just like he always found home in you. your arms laced his neck by pure reflex, considering you were still very much confused with your boyfriend’s attitude.

“what happened?”

rin played dumb. “hm? what do you mean? i’m just dancing with my girlfriend.” he shrugged like it was no big deal.

it really wasn’t. not when you smiled at him like that.

sure, itoshi rin didn’t like to dance. but he loved you, and if dancing would make you happy and keep you away from his shitty brother, he would do it in a heartbeat.

Itoshi Sae

parties were not really sae’s thing. he wasn’t one to socialize with his teammates, and he didn’t feel the need to talk to sponsors or to the media, considering he had a manager to do that. so how he got caught up in one was a true mystery.

sure, playing for the U-20 national team could be a big deal for a lot of people, but not for sae. he hated japan and all its weak players, and the only reason he agreed to play in the first place was to see project Blue Lock firsthand. he definitely did not sign for a party.

though he supposed he could endure it if you were there.

the dance floor was crowded, and a pop hit was blasting through the speakers. you were with sae on the bar just a minute ago, but your already tipsy self exclaimed to love this song and the need to dance it, so that’s what you were doing. and fuck, what a sight you were.

your skimpy dress hugged your body in all the right places, marking the curve of your ass. every time you moved in sync with the beat, swaying your hips, he could feel his breath hitch in his throat, always eager for what was under the fabric. you were breathtaking, and his.

“hey, genius boy!”

sae grunted when his eyes were forced to leave your frame, and he was not pleased to find oliver aiku by his side, portraying his signature toothy grin. his only acknowledgement was a hum, hoping oliver would take a hint and leave him the fuck alone.

“nice night, huh?”

sae sighed. apparently, he can’t take a hint.

“sure,” was all he said, turning his eyes back to you. you were still having fun by dancing like there was no tomorrow, and for a moment, sae wanted to smile from the way you were so carefree. he didn’t, though. but maybe something in his stoic demeanor cracked by looking at you, because the guy next to him spoke up.

“whatcha looking at?” oliver followed his sight before sae could fool him, and he felt anger rising when spotting a glimpse of desire in the heterochromatic eyes of his teammate. “oh, wow. what a babe.”

sae narrowed his eyes with an impossibly harsh glare that could make anyone cower. oliver didn’t. “she’s my girlfriend, so back the fuck off.”

“oh! can i dance with your girlfriend? she seems lonely.” the player smirked, seemingly enjoying to tease sae.

“look,” the older itoshi started, unamused. “you should probably know by now that i don’t tolerate bullshit. especially when it comes to her.”

oliver cocked his brow. sae continued, “so if you wanna have a slight chance to win against Blue Lock and not lose your shitty spot in the U-20 team, don’t fucking test me.”

finally, the player raised his hands in surrender, leaving without saying another word. chugging down the rest of his drink, sae made his way towards you, gluing his body behind yours and securing you close with a hand on your waist.

“hey, baby,” he mumbled in your ear. “wanna get out of here?”

Mikage Reo

being the heir of a billionaire corporation was no easy task. although there were some good parts in it, such as the money to do whatever one pleased, reo mostly dreaded everything related to his position. of course, this included the galas thrown by his family.

these galas were always full of snobby CEO’s and their heirs, trying to secure their spot in the light by arranging a marriage with the Mikage’s son. this part, at least, was solved when reo finally got married to you, and of course enduring hours of these boring parties became a hundred times better with you by his side.

however, he couldn’t say he was exactly pleased with the way all eyes were on you every time you put on some high couture outfit. you were stunning — reo knew that much, and he always boasted to anyone who could hear about it —, but he couldn’t help the spark of possessiveness that always ignited inside his chest whenever someone else stated this fact.

such as the old man talking to him.

“your wife is truly beautiful, mikage. a hidden gem.”

reo could feel his anger rising, jealousy and overprotectiveness becoming one. but he remained calm on the outside, a smiley façade that could effortlessly fool those around him. he couldn’t be rude, considering this geezer was one of the main investors of the mikage corporation.

“indeed, she is,” he answered through his teeth. the man didn’t seem to notice his gleaming eyes that could very much be homicidal.

“how long have you been married again?”

“two years.” he took a sip of the champagne glass in his hands. the liquid went down his throat with a burning sensation that made him momentarily forget about the searing rage in the pit of his stomach.

“oh, to be young again. i wish i could go back and enjoy my youth a little more,” the investor laughed, and reo had to force himself to do the same. his eyes, however, didn’t leave your frame.

you were graciously talking with three women of high society, distributing kind smiles as if they weren’t as precious as the diamonds in your neck, if not more. reo was well aware that none of the people on that gala deserved the goodness of your heart, but you couldn’t help but be sympathetic towards everyone. maybe that was why you were so adored. he knew for certain it was one of the reasons he loved you so much.

“do you mind if i dance one song with her?”

fuck. that man was still there.

“sure,” albeit hesitantly, reo agreed with a forced smile, watching as the investor walked up to you and bowed to ask for a dance. with your usual gentleness, you agreed, taking his hand and going to the middle of the ballroom for a waltz. the mikage could only watch your ethereal form glowing under the candelabrum, eyes softening with the way you were so carefree.

he was glad to have your purity in such a corrupted world.

when the song ended, reo wasted no time in coming to you and taking your hand from the man with a gentlemanly gesture that made you smile. you bid farewell to the investor with a small courtesy, your hand finding your husband’s easily.

“hey, beautiful.”

“hey, handsome,” you whispered, eyes sparkling. “you were totally holding yourself back, weren’t you?”

you both laughed at the way you could read him so easily. though reo didn’t mind.

“hell, yes. i was dying to drag you back to my arms.”

it was where you belonged, anyway.

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literaila · 4 months

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bad day

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: satoru can take things seriously... seriously, he can(not).

warnings: lil angst, fluffy, the children are side characters (not), tiny little argument (very tiny), nanami mention!?!?@@?#

a/n: i was going to write a cute valentines day thing but instead i overanalyzed the way all of these characters push their emotions away and here were are (: (also sorry yall i was buried beneath the earth for a couple days)

last part | next part

year two.

satoru has been watching you for at least three minutes. he tries to pretend that his eyes flicker away every couple of seconds—checking his phone or laughing at something or doing anything but staring—but he knows that his eyes never drift for long.

it’s not his fault, actually. on any normal day he’s usually staring at you—discreetly, he swears—watching your smile when he says something stupid, or your frown when he’s messing around. your eyes when they’re tired, your lips when they’re moving (or staying still, honestly).

but this isn’t his usual method of observing you. with the back and forth and the peering gaze.

and because he took off his glasses as soon as he got home, he knows that you should be able to tell.

but you haven’t said anything, which is the second sign that something is wrong.

“what’s going on?” he asks after the silence has faded into something uncomfortable.

his usual tactic is to wait for you to notice the silence and say something, but it’s not working. honestly, satoru’s not even sure if you know that he’s still there. usually, the two of you pick up on each other like magnets, just drawn closer, an obvious pull between your presences.

but you’re kinda far away, leaning back every time he leans forward.

“what?” you look up, finally, eyes wide with surprise. he might as well have just caught you stealing something. “what?” you repeat, less shocked.

“what happened?”

if you were a normal person, you would be radiating negative energy, he thinks.

you sigh, shaking your head. you think he’s joking—which is the point of his tone, of his words—but he’s not. just trying to get you to roll your eyes or push him away or tell him to go somewhere else.

anything you might usually do.

but you only frown, looking away again. “satoru, what are you talking about?”

“you.” he answers, quickly. “this… this.” he gestures to all of you.

“nothing,” you slap his hand back, finally rolling your eyes. “i'm fine. i'm good.”

“the kids say something?”

“nothing unusual. tsumiki asked if she could go to dinner with a friend friday night—“

“what about you?”

“what about me?”

“you’re frowning.”

you sigh. “cause i'm trying to make dinner and you’re distracting me.”

but you falter a little bit because he’s not wrong.

satoru can see it. and you’re a terrible liar.

“hey,” he pulls you away from the counter, getting your eyes on his. “talk to me.”

“it’s nothing, satoru,” you say, clearly trying to make the words stronger than they are. “i'm just tired.”

“you didn’t sleep?”

“i did…”

“and you’re tired?” he pokes, trying to catch you in your obvious lie.

it doesn’t take words—a confession, some truth—for him to see the other kind of tired in your eyes. the kind that he’s only noticed on cloudy days when you were alone on campus, or when he ignores something he knows you want him to talk about.

it’s a look he hates. the kind of eyes that shake him to his very core.

not that he’ll ever admit that to you, or anyone else. he shouldn’t care if you’re sad, or something of the sort. it’s none of his business.

and yet, right now, those thoughts don’t matter to him at all.

“it’s just been a long day,” you whisper, gesturing around you.

“why?”

you groan. “i need to finish dinner, okay? i just want—“ you breathe out.

“what?”

“a little space. i just…”

“what?” his brows are furrowed.

“go hang out with tsumiki,” you whisper, “or annoy megumi for a bit, or something. dinner will be ready in, like, forty-five minutes,” you’re almost pleading when you whisper, like an afterthought, “leave me alone for a while?”

the shake of his head is almost unconscious. “not until you talk to me.”

“i don’t want to talk.”

“i don’t care,” he says, in the same patronizing tone.

“satoru, honestly, i’m trying to cook and you’re getting in the way—“

“just tell me what happened.”

“nothing happened,” you say, trying to convince the two of you. “i just don’t feel very good, is all. it’s nothing.”

“clearly, it’s not nothing.”

“it’s nothing,” you repeat, harshly.

“how can i help?” he wonders, watching as you try to tilt away from him. “do you want me to—“

“seriously,” you almost snap. “i want to be alone, for a bit, alright?” your voice is stronger than it’s been since you walked in the door. your eyes are hard as you look away from him. “i just want a couple minutes without someone clinging to me, or asking me for something. is that okay with you?”

satoru watches your face, the way your eyes flicker shut, the brief quivering of your lips.

and he could say something—crack a joke, ask you if you’re okay again, prod for an explanation—but he’s always been fond of running instead of doing the right thing.

so he does.

you asked for space, and he might as well give it to you. he can do at least that.

he goes into the living room, ruffling megumi’s hair as he sits on the couch, but he doesn’t say anything.

and he doesn’t see the glance between the two children, the wide eyes. but he can almost feel it when you lean against the counter, letting out a frustrated sigh.

dinner is very quiet. tsumiki chats with megumi idly, smiling every time she remembers something about her day, or when megumi shows an ounce of interest in what she said.

you ask her questions every once and a while, like you’re just remembering that you’re supposed to be listening to her.

satoru doesn’t comment on this. he does the same, poking at both of the kids while they feast like animals.

and then megumi is clearing the table, and tsumiki is helping put everything in the kitchen away, and satoru washes the dishes, noticing immediately when you disappear.

he pats both of the kids on the back, saying something about leaving cleaning up in their capable hands, before he follows.

his movements are out of his command. he hasn’t said anything—hoping to give you what you asked him to—but he’s only so strong.

he finds you in his bedroom, sitting on his bed like you’re the one who messed up the sheets.

satoru is so concerned he doesn’t even think about you being there. on his bed. he doesn’t even blink.

but he shuts the door behind him, waiting.

“hey,” you say to him, so soft it’s almost inaudible. “i’m sorry.”

satoru leans against the doorjamb, a small smile on his face that you’re not looking at. it feels pointless. “dinner wasn’t too bad,” he shrugs, “i mean, could’ve used some salt, but i’m not complaining.”

you don’t smile at his tease, don’t turn your head to shoot him a look. his icebreaker has done nothing but come back to hit him in the eye.

his smile drops to something more asinine, a bit broken as it lays upon his face. “what’s going on?”

“i, um…” your lips purse, and you shake your head. “i’m sorry, satoru. for snapping at you. i’ve been—“ you sigh again, the words all broken and clipped like you’re not sure how they go together. it’s such a weird apology, sounds so wrong coming from you. “it’s been a rough day i shouldn’t have… i shouldn’t take it out on any of you. i didn’t mean to upset you,” you finally look at him, your eyes almost pleading.

satoru’s brows raise in surprise. “i’m not upset.”

“you haven’t talked to me in two hours.”

“you asked me not to,” he shrugs, again, uselessly. “i was just following orders.”

you watch him like he’s going to reveal a secret. “…really?”

he feels the grin creep on his face. “had to happen sometime.”

you shake your head, though your lips twitch—and satoru might be the only one who can sense that relief, the tiny pinprick of exhaustion leaking onto your skin.

he walks over to the bed, sitting next to you. “tell me about it.”

“you don’t want to hear it. it’s all stupid.”

“hey,” he nudges you, fingertips dancing on your thigh. “you say a lot of stupid things and i always listen.”

“i’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”

his head rests on yours. “talk,” he demands, soft.

and he can feel it as the emotions overflow—a secret he’s always kept to himself, that knowledge of everything that happens within your body, the walls that can’t keep him out—but he doesn’t move. just waits.

it’s sort of excruciating, but then you’re always telling him that he’s a masochist.

“i was just thinking about…” satoru hears you swallow, and he nods against your head like he understands even though he doesn’t. “about everything.”

“wow. way to narrow it down.”

you pinch his leg.

he grabs your hand, tucking it under two of his as a pure method of defense. your skin is warm and a bit clammy.

“i—“ you pause. breathe in and out very slowly. “nanami called me, yesterday.”

satoru freezes. the two of you almost avoid talking about school—about jujutsu—on principle. like you’re trying to distance yourself from the years of wear and tear. banish all of the bad from a broken timeline.

“he did?” he whispers, eventually.

“he, um, wants to get lunch or something. sometime. talk about stuff.”

“that’s… nice.”

you laugh. “it’s nice that the only other person left in my year is finally reaching out?” you say, dryly. “after leaving me, and pretty much everything else behind? and that he wants to talk?”

satoru muses, “nanami always knew all the best lunch spots.”

“you would only care about that.”

“hey, a free meal is no joke.”

“says the man who bought four separate dinners last week. and ate them all.”

“i can't control the cravings,” satoru says, whining to you, “i’m a growing boy.”

you laugh, and satoru takes pride in the way your body shakes against him. the little giggle he’d like to claim as his own.

“so, did he say why? something happen?”

“no… i’ll text him, every once and a while. just to check in, you know. but he usually doesn’t answer,” there’s an edge to your words, and you brush it off. “he probably just feels guilty. thinks i’m pining for him, or something.”

satoru snorts. “because nanami has ever felt guilty about anything.”

you sigh. “he does, actually,” you turn to meet his eyes. “why do you think he left?”

satoru considers it, for just a second too long. he thinks about what he might feel if you left instead. and then he throws that thought as far away from the two of you as possible. “…i don’t know.”

“he never really liked being a sorcerer, obviously. but after haibara… nanami isn’t like you and me. he can’t just—just shut out those feelings. ignore them,” you shake your head, pulling your hand from satoru’s.

“what do you mean?” he asks, before he can think about it.

your lip twitches, and you shake your head at him. you know so much more than he does, and he’s not sure how to catch up.

but you don’t give him the chance. “i know—i know he had to leave. i mean, i’ve thought about it too, how much easier everything would be if i…”

there’s a moment where satoru feels frozen to his core. like he’ll never be able to hold onto tight enough to get you to stay. that he’ll lose another person just because he wasn’t strong enough.

but you smile at him, sort of sad, and then you say, “i just don’t know why he had to leave me, too.”

his face falls, seeing the glimmer of sliver in your eyes.

satoru has seen you cry before. at movies, on difficult missions, when tsumiki asked to cuddle on the couch with you for the first time. he’s seen it before, the tears sliding down your face like a release he’ll never get to know.

but it’s never made him feel like this. never made him feel like he might tear through the world—might return to that numb space, where nothing really matters—just so he doesn’t have to see it ever again.

you wipe the tear away as it comes.

he understands that feeling so completely. that inevitable question, where there’s no stopping the thought that maybe if you did something different, it might not have happened. maybe if he was enough, satoru thinks, he could’ve gotten him to stay.

but this isn’t about him. and he doesn’t want to tell you that he’s pretty sure the feeling will never go away.

satoru licks his lips, so angry that he never knows what to say.

so angry that he's never been enough for this.

“sorry,” you whisper, voice a bit rough with emotion. “i know it’s silly. it’s his life.”

“it’s not,” he answers immediately. “it’s not silly.”

you give him a half smile, finally leaning away. you look down at the floor, still considering something with your brows furrowed.

“what?” satoru leans forward, to catch your eyes.

you sigh. “it’s stupid to be sad about this when i have so much to be grateful for,” you tell him, quickly, the words harsher than before. “i'm always telling megumi to try and focus on the good and appreciate the people he has instead of worrying. but—here i am, feeling sorry for myself about something that shouldn’t even matter.”

“megumi gets stuck in those thoughts for weeks,” satoru responds, just as quickly. “you can have a bad day.”

you shake your head. “you never do.”

satoru falters, pausing. and then he reaches out, turning your head towards him. and he throws on his smile—the one he knows will make you roll your eyes. “that’s because all of my days are bad,” he whispers.

you smile back. it's an offering, of sorts. “true.”

he frowns at you, still unsure how to relieve this pain. “you take good care of all of us,” he says, instead.

“i know.”

you lean your forehead against his, not protesting when satoru wraps his arms around you in response, pulling you tighter into him—trying to pretend like eventually he’ll let you go.

he moves to rest his head on yours, nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in--hoping that your presence alone will tell him what to do. because you always know.

what would you do if the situations were reversed?

“let me take care of you, okay?” the words are so sudden that you try to pull back, but he doesn’t let you. “if you’re having a bad day, let me handle dinner. or take the kids to their clubs. anything to help you feel… lighter. and when you get lunch with nanami, you don’t have to worry about us. we’ll be okay.”

“satoru…”

“i know that i pushed this all on you,” he smiles, sheepishly, the only version of apology he knows. “but there’s no one who would’ve handled it better. and i… i don’t want you to regret any—“ he cuts off, unsure what he even means.

“i’ll never regret it. i never have.” this time, you force him to let you meet his eyes. “you don’t need to worry about that.”

“i wasn’t,” he answers, lying.

you laugh.

satoru’s eyes soften at your smile. “talk to me, next time, okay? i like it when you need me.”

you push him away.

and at the same time, there’s a knock on the door, and two tiny heads peeking in.

“you guys okay?” tsumiki asks, her eyes blinking over the tangled legs and tear stains.

megumi doesn’t even pause before saying, “gojo did you eat all of the mochi?”

satoru grins.

you groan and megumi probably throws something at him, but satoru isn’t really paying attention.

just staring at you. for a different reason this time.

next part | series masterlist.

#gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #satoru gojo #jjk satoru #gojou satoru x reader #satorugojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #satoru gojō x reader #a typical family

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bloompompom · 2 months

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LOVER BOY | MINI SERIES

in which eren falls hard for you, his friend-with-benefits who insists she isn't looking for anything serious

PART ONE - all that glitters

⟡ content: eren jaeger x female reader, good old-fashioned college au, fwb-to-lovers, mutual pining/idiots in love, cheesy rom-com, smut fic with feelings, fluff, angst, sexual content, explicit language, alcohol, drunk sex. reader discretion advised. 18+ ⟡ word count: ~3k ⟡ masterlist (1/4) ⟡ a/n: writing has been a struggle but this came to me in a vision. i needed something easy and fun to get me back in the swing of things. enjoy ♡

“Eren.”

You whined his name in that signature drunken way, with the last syllable drawn out and pronounced like a plea—as if pleading with him was ever necessary.

“What’re you doing right now?” you asked. “D’you wanna fuck?”

No, not really. But Eren would make sure you made it back to your dorm room alive and as well as one could be after too many drinks. Still, he couldn’t deny how the back of his neck warmed at the offer.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Where are you at?”

After the call ended, it was only a matter of seconds before his friends predictably started heckling him.

Connie hung his headset around his neck, shooting Eren this too-knowing look when he asked, “Lemme guess who that was.”

“How about you don’t?” Despite Eren’s flat affect, his words had a biting edge. He kept his head down as he shrugged his jacket over his shoulders.

This wasn’t the first time Connie broached the subject, also known as you. Although it proved to be a sore spot for Eren, Connie didn’t plan to stop poking any time soon.

“Dude, she’s got you pussy-whipped,” he barked, “with a capital P, dude.”

“You said ‘dude’ twice,” Eren groused, hoping that would be the end of it. When the baiting look on Connie’s face didn’t let up, Eren felt compelled to defend himself. “I’m not pussy-whipped. She’s at a party and needs someone to walk her home.”

Connie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before.”

Lounged on his bottom bunk, Jean glanced from his phone screen to Eren. “You know, these sorts of arrangements—friends-with-benefits, fuck buddies, whatever weird thing you two have going on—they don’t normally end well.”

Jean said it smartly, in that been-there-done-that way as if his longest relationship wasn’t with his right hand. Before Eren could call him out on it, Connie jumped in on the dog pile.

“And last time I checked, they don’t involve catching feelings,” he asserted, thinking he'd added something meaningful to the conversation.

“I didn’t catch feelings,” Eren refuted.

“Then tell me straight up you’re going over there for pussy and not because you think she’s magically going to wake up one morning and want to have a serious, exclusive relationship with you after literal months of saying otherwise.”

Ouch.

“It is exclusive,” Eren corrected, though his delivery was a bit shaky. “I mean, I’m not sleeping around.”

“Well, duh. But is she?”

Eren realized he had no idea if you were sleeping with anyone else. Why was he so quick to assume you had been faithfully fucking him? That wasn’t in the terms of your agreement.

Regardless of what (or who) you did when he wasn’t around, you called him tonight over anyone else. That had to mean something, right? At the very least, it meant the decency of giving him a heads-up if you were fucking someone else, he liked to think.

“I don’t think so,” Eren said. “She hasn’t mentioned anyone, and I’m sure she’d tell me if—”

Connie guffawed. “God, you are down so fucking bad. Just admit it to yourself.”

Eren had already done that a long time ago but they didn’t need to know that. Truthfully, they didn’t need to know anything about you, yet all three of his roommates managed to acquaint themselves with you despite never having met.

Eren tried to keep his fling with you under wraps—not for any special reason other than it was none of his friends’ business. But if he thought he was being sneaky, then he was doing a shit job at it because his friends caught on fast. After they spotted a poorly-hidden hickey, it didn’t take much to pull the dirty secret from him.

But it wasn’t really that dirty of a secret, was it? They understood it; why would he stick around and play video games with them when he could be getting his dick sucked? What they didn’t understand was why he continued doting on you like he was your boyfriend—no, like he was your puppy, loyal and entirely dedicated to you while maintaining that it was nothing more than casual sex.

Fat fucking chance. They would never believe such a thing. They knew Eren better than that. They knew he wasn’t meant for casual.

Eren bristled but held his tongue. Connie was right, and whatever bullshit Eren could spout wouldn’t be worth the breath; they’d never believe him.

If only he’d kept his mouth shut in the first place. At least then he wouldn’t need to dread this collective ‘I told you so!’ from friends who were all too eager to say it.

Lest he wished for this to devolve into the world’s shittiest intervention, Eren left without another word—not even a ‘goodbye’ in reply to Armin, ever the diplomat, hiding out on his top bunk until he deemed it safe. Unfortunately for Eren, his silence (and the slammed door) spoke louder than anything he could have said.

You’d sent Eren your location because you didn’t have half a mind to explain your whereabouts. Not to mention, the streets back on Fraternity Row were old and cobbled and poorly lit. You were a few blocks over from Eren, only a five-minute walk. Four, if he picked up his pace.

Had it really been months since this whole thing started?

You and Eren were introduced under more formal circumstances. He couldn’t confidently say you would have met if not for your professor’s intervention. She randomly assigned partners for the final project, stating everyone needed to ‘branch out'—as if they needed another freshman orientation course. Looking back now, Eren could appreciate the icebreaker.

That was in November. He met with you on a Friday only to spend the rest of the weekend with you on his mind. He remembered it well. For good reason, too; he’d never made out in a library before.

Neither had you, apparently. That was what you told him, whispered between giggles as you rose from your chair. You knew you were up to no good as you slipped into his lap, and you wore a glittery smile to match.

Eren’s conscience told him otherwise, but the more bestial part of his brain had already justified it with boyishly sound reasoning as to why it was perfectly okay.

First off, the two of you were tucked away in a secluded corner, hidden behind bookshelves blanketed in dust older than his college career. He hadn’t heard so much as a footstep the entire hour he’d spent here.

Secondly, who would come to the library this late on a Friday anyway?

It made for quite the compelling argument, outside of the fact that he himself was one of those Friday night library goers.

Eren couldn’t explain how you ended up there, astride his lap with his bottom lip sucked swollen and drawn between your teeth, other than stating the obvious: the attraction between you was instantaneous and the conditions were just right. The literature was just horrifically boring enough; the tension between you was palpable, nibbled away at bit by bit like a mouse gnawing on a cord. Accidental touches, as chaste as a hand brushed against his, became deliberate and lasted longer than the last. You would sit close, then closer, and move in a way that Eren would catch thin whiffs of your perfume, a sweet scent at the tip of his nose but warm in the pit of his stomach.

And like a cord, you risked a fateful snap: the moment you’d realize you were far more interested in each other than any ten-point word on the page—when you’d agree to leave the project abandoned on the table and let it fade into insignificance.

Eren didn’t know the last time someone made his heart beat that hard, if ever. Hard enough that he remembered worrying you’d feel it. Of course, it could have been from the thrill, but he had to admit you left him feeling completely caught off guard. He wasn’t sure if the feeling ever truly went away.

Exactly one week later, he discovered you had some friends-of-a-friend in common after bumping into each other at a house party. You approached him, eyes half-lidded, pupils dilated, but your smile as glittery as he remembered. You introduced him to a few girls, laying a hand on his arm as you said, “This is the project partner I was telling you about.” It flattered Eren to know you'd mentioned him, but more than that, it told him that you’d been thinking about him, too.

You brought him back to your room that night. It was the obvious choice between the suite Eren shared with three other guys or the single you miraculously snagged.

It was fun—and Eren knew how it sounded when he said that. ‘Fun’ wasn’t the first word that came to mind when he thought about having drunk sex with a near stranger. Fumbling and awkward, yes. But fun? Not so much.

Yet with you, it was.

The pressure he put on himself melted away at the touch of your hand. Maybe that was the moment, if he had to name one, when he first felt something. Something that ran deeper than a hormone-induced make-out session in the library and deeper than any one-night stand. All you had to do was be you. The drunk version of you—of both of you—but still you, nonetheless.

You kissed him not on your half-lofted bed but you were on your way there. Eren had your back pressed against it before breaking the kiss to take off your shirt. You helped him with his next.

Your hands immediately flew to his stomach, palming over the muscles in a way Eren wouldn’t describe as sexual—more like you were impressed.

“Whoa,” you remarked with a sort of wonder he didn’t expect. You squeezed his bicep next and then glanced down at your own. “Do you think I can get those?”

“Yeah, I’ll send you my gym routine,” Eren laughed. Though he supposed he didn’t really have a routine, he just went to blow off steam.

He pulled you into him, snuffing out your giggles with a kiss.

Confessedly, he came fast—not that fast, but quicker than he would have preferred. But he liked to think he made up for it, fingering and eating you until he was hard again and could go for round two. You sure seemed to like it.

When it was all said and done, Eren lay there and imagined falling asleep at your side, while you were already hopping out of bed.

Ugh. Putting it like that made him sound like a girl.

You exchanged numbers before parting ways, and he dedicated another weekend to you, this time planning his text to ask you on a date. He took so long that you reached out first, sending what you called your fuck it! text, both figuratively and literally—you cheekily threw that into the message, too.

When Eren agreed to ‘just sex, nothing else,’ he thought it was making the obvious choice. What idiot would say no to that? It sounded like the college dream, and that was what it was supposed to be, up until it wasn’t.

From then on, the time you should have spent working on your project, you spent fucking. Shameful but true. It was probably the reason you received a C. As it turned out, humans don’t retain much information when attempting to read aloud while another went down on them. Maybe the two of you should have done your project on that instead.

It was nearly spring now. The soggy beginning of the season as winter finally began to melt away. The night was rain-soaked. Eren could smell the remnants of the downpour on the asphalt as he walked against the breeze, chilly enough for him to hide his hands in his jacket pockets.

He approached the bustling house to find you sitting alone on the stoop, legs bent at the knee and a bit knobbled. He called out for you and watched a gigantic smile capture your face. The sight made his chest tighten.

Eren held out his hands for you to take and tugged you to your feet.

“Where are your friends?” he asked you.

“I dunno,” you absently said.

You passed him as you crossed the lawn. When you reached the sidewalk, you spun on your heels to see if Eren was following. He was.

“Don’t worry, I texted them that I was leaving.” You started to laugh. “Told them I had a booty call.”

“A booty call?” Eren pretended you wounded him, clasping a hand over his chest. “Is that all I am to you? And here I was thinking we were friends.”

You giggled as you kept your attention on steadying your stride. A bumpy sidewalk plus a few drinks past your limit didn’t make for a coordinated combination. Your arm brushed against Eren’s every few steps.

“Seriously though,” he started to say. “Shouldn’t your friends be the ones to get you home?”

“You are my friend.” You beamed up at him, eyes heavy but happy. “You said so yourself.”

He smiled back at you, genuine but closed-mouth, and didn’t flinch as your cold hand nudged a path into his for warmth.

He guided you into your residence hall and joined your elevator ride up to the eighth floor. He walked you down the left wing to the room at the very end of the hallway and swiped your student ID to unlock the door. He reached to flip the light switch but found it was already on.

“You left the light on,” Eren commented, closing the door as he followed you inside.

Your dorm was no larger than any other, but it sure felt like it with just one bed, tucked into the corner and still unmade from this morning. Your desk sat opposite it, with a window on the back wall dividing the two. The last time Eren saw your desk, he had you on it. By now, the clutter had been put back in its rightful place—a few loose papers and your open laptop—and doubled as a makeshift vanity with your tabletop mirror.

You hummed blithely before nearing him in a few steps. You went to kiss him, even had your hands on either side of his face, but you only caught the corner of his mouth. He took you by the shoulders and held you at arm’s length. Even from there, your breath reeked of vodka.

“You need to get some sleep,” he told you.

“I will,” you purred. “After—”

You shook free of his hands and peeled off your shirt, faltering slightly in the process. You tried to kiss him again, thinking your bare chest would surely tempt him.

When Eren didn’t budge, you pouted, “You tricked me.”

“Tricked is a pretty harsh word, don’t you think?”

Eren grabbed the t-shirt draped on your desk chair and plunged it over your head before he started to stare for too long. You scrambled to sort out its sleeves.

“So you came all this way just to tuck me in?” Your head popped through the neck hole to reveal your frown. “You’re not even going to have sex with me?”

“That’s right.”

You shimmied your jeans down your legs, glaring up at him. “You’re so boring.”

“I know,” he airily replied. He ticked his head. “Bed.”

You were drunk enough to listen obediently but kept your frown as you shuffled into your bed. As you crawled beneath the blankets, you watched Eren take a water bottle from your mini fridge and set it on your bedside cubby. Before his hand was out of reach, you lightly wrapped a hand around his wrist.

You intertwined your fingers with his, sweeping yours up and down the length of each. “You’re at least going to kiss me good night, right?”

You were always so touchy-feely when you drank.

Eren held his breath. His eyes followed as you pressed your palm against his, compared their sizes, and played with his fingers. It almost felt like you were pulling at something much deeper in him. A puppet and his puppeteer.

He knew what he wanted to do, but his friends’ words resounded in the forefront of his mind, listing the exact reasons why this was a bad idea. Then he went and did it anyway.

Eren leaned in to kiss you, not on your lips but sealed against your forehead. With his hand cradling your cheek to hold you there for that one, long second.

It wasn’t the kiss you wanted, but even so, you stared up at him in drunken awe. Softly, and with a softer smile, you told him, “Thank you for walking me back.” You nuzzled deeper into the bed, closing your eyes as you rambled, “You’re so nice, Eren. Didya know that?”

“I’ll be sure to remind you of that the next time you call me mean,” he teased before turning to leave.

You piped up again. Your voice was already sleepier than just a second ago, sounding smushed against your pillow as you murmured, “If I’m not married by forty, and you’re not married by forty, can we get married?”

He gave a tiny laugh through his nose. You were cute, weren’t you? He knew you wouldn’t remember this tomorrow. Or if you did, you’d profusely (and needlessly) apologize for it.

“You’ll be married by forty. You don’t have to worry about that,” Eren said, half-way out the door.

You responded with nothing more than a satisfied sound, drifting to sleep as quickly as Eren expected.

The heavy lock clicked behind him, but Eren gave it a final jiggle to ensure it. He heaved a sigh, leaning back against your door with a thud you thankfully wouldn’t hear.

This was a huge mistake, wasn’t it?

masterlist | next part

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #eren fluff #aot x reader

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duuhrayliegh · 1 month

Text

equal and opposite (consequences, pt. 2)

a/n: first of all, yall really showed out with the comments and reblogs on the first part of this so THANK YOU SO MUCH like i haven't written anything that i felt was good in months so to have such an overwhelmingly positive response to that post felt amazing!!!!

if you haven’t read part one, i highly recommend checking that out first!!!!

anyway, i hadn't originally intended for this to go anywhere else, but as i've said before bartender!bucky & peanut just wouldn't go away so here we are!!! i hope this lives up to the expectations and if we want more PLEASE LET ME KNOW I LIVE TO PLEASE

“Can you please just sit down? I don’t understand what’s happening to us!”

“That’s the problem!”

He throws his hands above his head out of exasperation. They land on his hips as their new resting place and he levels you with a frustrated glare. A glare. Apparently, you’re not worth the energy it takes to filter the emotions from his tone or expressions. That luxury must be saved for his plethora of mistresses.

“You don’t understand me anymore!”

“Understand you?”

Going home has become harder and harder. Despite desperately wanting to fix your marriage, it seems your efforts might have been in vain. No matter how hard you try, your husband has made every effort to avoid having a real conversation with you. To say you’re at your wit's end would be generous.

“Yes! Coming home to you is too stressful for me. I’m in the office all week and then I come home to a wife who doesn’t put in any effort to make herself desirable for me.”

Your jaw dropped, as did the wooden spoon in your hand. His words float through your head on repeat. That voice you used to love, the same voice that vowed to always love and cherish you in his wedding vows. Now, you’re cooking for a man you don’t know.

“Then why stay with me? If I’m so clearly not what you want, why stay?”

There’s a drawn out silence that is accompanied by softly heaving breaths and the simmering pot of homemade spaghetti sauce.

“You’re what I want in a wife. You just don’t understand my needs in the way that Shelia does.”

Your blood boils. Shelia—the latest girlfriend in a string of girlfriends. How dare he? You turn to the stove and begin clicking everything off. You fume while gathering your purse and keys to a home that you no longer feel welcome in.

“This is why I didn’t want to get into this. You’re too emotional and I knew you’d play the victim whenever I’m suffering too!”

You roll your eyes, refusing to engage because you’ll only hurt yourself more. Instead, you pry the door open and slam it shut before trekking off down the hallway.

You don’t have a plan, all you know is that you need to get out. You’re lucky that you were wearing a hoodie and jeans whenever you started getting into it with John. It’s not the first time that you had to get out, so you’ve learned over the past few months.

Wind whips against your cheeks when you exit your apartment building. You pull your hood over your head and start walking aimlessly. You reach for your phone and dial the first number you think of.

You never stop walking, street lamps lighting the sidewalk with a pale yellow light. There’s an irritating sting starting behind your eyes that you refuse to acknowledge. You don’t have to listen to the trilling of the phone line for long before it’s interrupted.

“Commando’s. How can I help you?”

The music in the bar is loud enough that you can clearly make out Steve’s divorced dad rock playlist. A rush of relief shoots down your spine and you breathe a sigh while enjoying the subtle ambiance through your phone speaker.

“Hello?”

It’s only then that you realize you’ve been on the phone for the past thirty seconds without saying anything.

“Bucky?”

“Peanut?”

“Hi, uh--I didn't have your number and I didn't know who else to call."

"Hang on, Peanut. I'm here, hang on." Suddenly the music is reduced to a bouncing bass line. "Are you okay?"

You continue walking, breathing in the stale air of the city as you debate your answer. For the most part, sure, you're okay. You’re not physically harmed in any way, just a deep emotional hurt that persists through the stark cold of the air around you. But if someone looked twice, or you spend more than half a second around someone you're comfortable with, that answer wouldn’t hold water.

"The wheels, Peanut, I can hear them. I need you to answer me. Are you okay?"

Bucky's voice is soft and grounding. Your heartbeat starts to match the steady baseline of the bar's music.

"I'm okay?"

Bucky's soft laugh echoes through the phone speaker, "That sounded like a question more than an answer, Peanut." He then pauses and sighs, "What did he do now?"

You suck in a sharp breath, debating on how to answer his question. The lead weight that had previously settled in your stomach begins to lessen as you hear Bucky’s voice.

On the one hand, Bucky has become the person you feel the most comfortable with. You don't have anyone close to you in the city because you moved out here to support John's career. Your family is on the other side of the country, and it's not like you've had a whole lot of time to build a support system here.

On the other, Bucky didn't sign up for this. He didn't sign up for a broken wife that isn't even his! You have no connection to him outside of becoming a regular at his bar and forming a possibly misguided attraction.

“Peanut? Come on back to me."

“Sorry, Buck. I just—“ you trail off, not entirely sure how to handle yourself.

“Don’t worry about it, Peanut Butter.” You laugh softly at the lengthier version of your nickname while he continues talking. “Look, how about we meet somewhere so we can talk?”

“Aren’t you working tonight though? I can just come to the bar.”

No matter how appealing Bucky’s offer is, you don’t want him to risk his livelihood for you. You aren’t worth that, not really.

“Not anymore, Pea. You’re more important to me. The guys here can handle the bar while I leave to take care of my Ps and Qs.”

You giggle again, unsure of where he comes up with these iterations.

“There she is.”

The words are murmured low, as if he was just speaking to himself. As if it’s a remark not meant for public consumption, just a murmur of his adoration.

“There’s a little hole in the wall on 115th and North. It’s called Winnie’s. Meet me there and you can talk for however long they’re serving coffee.”

"Don't diners always serve coffee?"

"They sure do. And Winnie's is a 24-hour diner. Which means," There's a loud shuffle on his end of the phone and then his voice cuts through. "you can talk to me for as long as you want, Peanut."

"Thank you, Bucky." You aren't as loud as you meant to be, but you know he hears you when he hums before you end the call.

Shoving the phone in the pocket of your jacket, you search for street signs.

And now you stand in front of Winnie's, a sixties diner straight off a movie set. Bright neon illuminates the street below, bathing you in a turquoise light that you're sure is not at all flattering. The front door is encased in chrome and vinyl covers the seating throughout the restaurant.

You push through the front doors and spy a large jukebox on the left side of the building. There's no host stand, so you peer around the seats in search of your bartender.

"Welcome to Winnie's. hun! Just take a seat, we'll be right with ya!"

An older woman yells from behind the bar top. Her graying hair is pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck and you're just about to read her nametag when you hear a familiar voice.

"Peanut! This-a-way!" Bucky stands from a booth in the corner, grabbing your attention and everyone else in the restaurant.

A bright blush colors your cheeks as you make your way to his booth in the corner. The linoleum floor of the diner becomes increasingly interesting the closer you find yourself to Bucky. To be completely truthful, you've never seen Bucky outside of the bar, so this is a jarring, but welcome experience.

He's still wearing those annoyingly large boots and tight white shirt that never fails to distract you when you're sitting on the twirly bar stools. His metal arm is on full display, the gold in-lay catching the light as he twists a straw wrapper into a tight spiral.

Bucky stands to greet you once you reach the booth, leaning toward you and wrapping you in his warm embrace. Your breath catches at his sudden body heat, but you waste no time in curling your arms around his torso.

"This might be the dumbest and most obvious question, but," he pulls back from the hug and gestures toward the seat across from him, "how’re you doing?"

A stifled laugh escapes as you settle into the worn vinyl seat. Instead of answering, you pull a less-than-convincing smile that you know Bucky can see right through. Evidenced by the fact that he laughs sarcastically at the look of it.

"Yeah, thought as much."

"It's just all becoming too much, I think."

An older woman brings two coffee mugs to the table, gripping a half-full coffee pot in her other hand. You stop yourself before you divulge anything in the presence of strangers. You don't need to burden another random stranger with your problems, Bucky is more than enough.

“Who's your friend, Jamie?"

Bucky smiles while introducing you to the woman. He extends the same courtesy to you, placing the name of the woman in front of you.

"Peanut, this is Winnie. She's the owner and operator of Winnie's diner."

Bucky pours a healthy dose of sugar into your coffee mug and then drops a spoon into it before pushing it across to you. You're in the middle of taking a large sip of the hot drink when Bucky continues talking.

"She's also my mother."

“Oh!"

He laughs as you sputter, completely phased by his nonchalance about introducing you to his mother. To be fair, you don’t really know Bucky outside of him being a great listener and mixologist. Winnie laughs and talks with the both of you before politely excusing herself to take care of her other customers.

“Your mother?”

Bucky leans forward and locks eyes with you.

“I’m so sorry. She wasn’t meant to be working today, but you would have met her one way or another.”

There he goes again, that dizzying nonchalance that bleeds into every word he speaks. Your mouth opens to speak, but you're still in a state of stunned that has you stumbling on your words.

"I'm just kidding, Nutter Butter." Bucky laughs and you hum while picking at your cuticles.

"Sorry, just took me by surprise."

"Clearly."

Bucky glances at your hands that are resting on the table and shifts around his side of the booth. There's a brief moment of silence as you mull over what Winnie has said.

"Did she call you 'Jamie'?"

Bucky lets out a loud laugh. One of those laughs that sounds like the feeling snuck up on everyone, including the person laughing.

"That's what you focused on, Peanut?"

You're smiling more in the past five minutes with Bucky than you have in the past five months with John. Bucky stops shuffling and then removes his coffee cup from the saucer it sits on. He slides the tiny plate toward you as you talk.

"Thank you for meeting me, Buck. Like I said, I think I'm just getting too tired of his bullshit. He really came at me today with the attitude that this is all my fault." Bucky nods as you continue speaking, "As if I'm the one who asked for an open marriage."

Bucky reveals a Ziplock bag and dumps the contents of it into the saucer in front of you. You're just about to start a rant when he nudges a salty shell into your hands. You glance down for half a second before getting the ball rolling.

"John asked for this! He's the one that's causing all this... this turmoil in our relationship. I haven't gone on a single date! I haven't caused a single issue. All I've been trying to do is understand things from his point of view, but he won't even give me the time of day to do that. I can't even suggest something like marriage counseling because he runs out the door the second he sees me enter a goddamn room."

You stop to take another long sip of your coffee while Bucky sits back and lets you rant at him across from yet another counter. You can see him chewing on the inside of his cheek, clearly holding back from saying something.

"I don't even know what to do anymore!" You huff and shove your hair over your shoulder. "What do you think?"

"Do you want my honest opinion or do you want me to just be here for you?"

"I want you to be you."

"Okay." Bucky nods, you crack open yet another peanut and place the shell on a napkin next to the plate. "I think you should start considering divorcing ol' Johnny boy."

"I can't do that."

Your response is immediate. Too quick to be healthy really. The shell of the peanut cracks between your fingers, revealing the salty perfection inside.

"Alright, divorce is off the table. How do you feel about separation?"

"No."

"Why?"

"It goes against everything I was raised to believe. I was brought up under the idea that the person you marry is the person you stick next to no matter what."

"Even when that person isn't extending the same courtesy?"

"I just--" You sniffle, peeling open yet another peanut. "I just want to be loved, Bucky. I don't understand what I did to make him look for love and affection from someone other than me."

Bucky reaches across the table and covers your hand with his, rubbing his thumb against your knuckles soothingly. You found yourself in this same position three months ago. It was when Bucky first told you of his interest in dating you.

To be perfectly honest, you were about two slow blinks away from folding into his arms then. Nothing's changed. You're still half a second from completely melting for the man before you, but you can't get over the fact that you're married.

"Peanut, you may never understand his reasoning. Especially when he won't sit down and explain anything to you. I think you should do what's in your best interest. If you don't want to divorce or separate, then you need to surround yourself with people who will give you that love and affection that you need."

A soft lull coats the pair of you and you allow your eyes to lock with Bucky's. What you find there shocks you.

Pity is something that you never, ever want to experience, but with a shitty situation like your marriage, you've come to expect it. Every time you glance in a mirror or catch your reflection in a store window, or even a puddle of water, you find your own eyes layered with that sickening sadness that accompanies self-pity.

However, in Bucky's clear blue eyes, you find nothing but determination. Determination for what is the question you're now faced with. In all reality, Bucky has no dog in this fight. He has no reason to be helping you the way that he has. Bucky's expressed interest in you, sure, but that doesn't constitute going to the lengths that he does.

"I just want you to be happy."

"Do you think you could make me happy?"

"Absolutely."

You nod while popping the last peanut into your mouth and wiping your hands off on your jeans. You stand unceremoniously and then hold your hand out to Bucky. He stares at your outstretched hand in half-baked shock and then jumps at the opportunity.

"See ya later, Ma! Love ya."

"Will you be home for family dinner?"

"Nope, gotta take my Peanut to the ballgame!"

Bucky rushes you out of the diner and pulls you to a heavy-looking motorcycle. You laugh as he pries open one of the saddlebags on the bike. He reveals two helmets, one white and one black. Both have sleek features with a face cover that reflects Bucky's sharp features.

"What?" His laugh that follows is full of nervous energy as you continue to laugh. "What's so funny?"

"It just--" You snort quietly, "You would drive a motorcycle."

"Oh yeah? And why's that, Peanut Brittle?"

You wave your hand as if you're circling his whole body and shrug while smiling your ass off.

"You just gestured to all of me."

You both break into a fit of laughter, only for Bucky to break it off and unclip the chin strap of the white helmet.

"Well, does safety also fit with..." he does the same gesture as you, "all this?"

Bucky gently rests the helmet on the leather seat of the motorcycle and then leans over to you.

"You might want to pull your hair back. Trust me I love your hair down, but whenever you're riding it's easier in the long run."

"Oh, okay." You begin to pull your hair back when you remember that your hair tie is on the counter at your apartment. "Actually, I think I'll suffer the consequences."

Bucky glances at you and then asks, "You need a tie?"

He prompts you to turn around and he quickly coaxes your hair into a neat ponytail at the base of your neck. You turn back to him with wide eyes, your hand reaching back to check the hairstyle.

"Come on. I've got plans, Payday! I've got ideas to romance ya!"

You laugh while Bucky beams and puts the white helmet over your head. Once it's secured, he swipes the visor up and boops your nose. You scrunch it in retaliation and he shakes his head at you. He grips the sides of your helmet and tilts your head to the side. A loud Bluetooth signal sounds and a robotic female voice informs you that the device has been connected.

"So, basic rules of the bike. I lean, you lean." He taps on the side of the helmet he just fiddled with. "This is a microphone, so we'll be able to communicate without the visors being up. Don't be afraid to squeeze if you feel a little wobbly. I promise I can handle whatever you give me, Peanut."

You flush at his words, thankful that you're already wearing the helmet so he isn't privy to the bright red coloring overtaking your cheeks. Bucky slips on his own helmet and mounts the bike in one smooth motion. His hands glide to the handlebars and then he turns to face you and jerk his head in the opposite direction.

You release a deep breath and give yourself a mini pep talk before placing your hands on Bucky's shoulders. The difference between them keeps you grounded as you swing your leg over the back of the motorcycle. His voice shoots into your ears, a breathy fuck me that wasn't meant for your ears.

"You ready?"

This question is at a normal level, and you respond in kind. The bike roars to life beneath you and you jolt toward him, arms immediately wrapping around his waist tightly.

"Hold on tight, spider monkey."

You giggle and interlock your fingers above the waistline of his jeans. Now, you can feel every breath he takes, every minuscule contraction of his muscles from every movement he makes to control the beast between his legs. You try to take steady breaths in order to control your heartbeat and match Bucky's, but the faster he goes, the faster your heart beats against his back.

City lights blur past as you find your rhythm behind Bucky. The more comfortable you get, the looser your grip becomes around him. He takes you through downtown with all the newer, hipster restaurants inhabiting the busy streets. Bucky begins to slow and you look up to see his profile illuminated under the bright red of the traffic stop.

His feet rest on the ground beside the bike, holding it upright while it rumbles idly. Bucky leans back into you, his hands moving from the handlebars to your thighs. He traces the skin that's exposed by the rips of your jeans. The loose material allows just enough space for his fingers to burrow beneath and trace meaningless patterns into your skin.

Butterflies make themselves known in the pit of your stomach, along with another slightly less prominent heat building at his touch on your skin.

"We're almost there, Peanut Brittle." Bucky's voice is melodic through the microphone. You could fall asleep listening to him read a phone book.

The bike thunders to life again as Bucky releases the clutch. More buildings fade as he continues to steer the two of you down the less traveled streets.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere fun!"

He laughs at your little groan. Surprises aren't necessarily your favorite thing, but if it's Bucky, maybe it'll be tolerable.

Suddenly, Bucky drops his right hand from the bars and indicates his next turn. The pair of you lean in that direction slightly as he slows into a parking lot of a roller rink. The sign for the Rockin' Roller Rink has a bright yellow arrow blinking toward the building at the base of its billboard.

He rolls into a parking spot near the entrance and pops the kickstand out to steady the bike. You peel yourself off of his back and rest your hands on your thighs while taking in your surroundings. Bucky slips his helmet off and then turns his torso to face you.

"As much as I love you on my ride, Peanut, you have to get off first."

You flush red beneath the visor and quickly dismount. However, in your rush to get off, you don't realize how unstable your legs are as they bear your full weight after the ride. Bucky's hands shoot out to your waist as he remains on the bike, a wry grin on his lips.

"Sorry, should've warned you about that." He stands in front of you and dusts off your shoulders before deciding that you're okay. "It's because of the riding position when you're on the bike. If you aren't used to that, it can be a little jarring the first few times."

He takes your helmet and then removes the keys from the ignition. Bucky bends at the waist and hooks his key carabiner to your belt loops.

As he straightens to his full height, he remarks with a wink, "Plus, the vibrations don't help much either."

You squawk unattractively and smack his chest with the back of your hand while he belly laughs. His metal hand hovers over your lower back as he guides you into the double doors of the roller rink. While he pulls open the door for you, you think about all the times that your husband has failed to do even that act of basic decency.

You shake your head as you walk in, determined to put him out of your mind. That is until you remember the one stipulation of your open marriage--you both have to disclose when you go on dates. Your mind drifts to all the unanswered texts he's sent you about his various dates. Little quips that accomplish nothing but remind you that your husband sees you as less than. A relationship that he no longer has to put effort into and hasn't for some time now. You take your phone from your back pocket to shoot John a quick text, a sour look overtaking your face as you do.

On a date, be home later. You’re quick to swipe your phone onto do not disturb and shove it back into your pocket. You aren’t ready to face the hypocrisy that John will manage to cook up.

"You okay, Peanut?" Bucky's voice clears everything. All the swirling doubt, the immense turmoil that you feel when you think of John, everything negative is wiped when you focus on Bucky.

Perhaps that's also an issue. Maybe you need to be single instead of dating. Maybe you need to love yourself before anyone else can effectively love you. What if that's the real issue? The real reason why John had to seek affection outside of your marital bonds. Maybe it was because you were so unloveable to the point that it was more effort to work through your issues than find an effortless partner somewhere else.

A cold finger taps your temple causing you to blink harshly and refocus on the man before you. This man who's become your safe haven, your harbor in this horrific storm that is your marriage. The man who brings peanuts to his mother's diner because you called him to meet up. The man who knows you better than your husband who you've known for half your life.

"The wheels," your bartender reminds you as he pulls you to the side of the room. His arms envelop you until all you can process is biceps, one cold and one warm. Bucky's cheek rests against your head and you can't find it in yourself to stop from melting into his touch. "How about this," he shifts away from you just enough to meet your eyes, "you just take it one hour at a time?"

"One hour?" You ask, brows furrowing skeptically at the concept. You've never been someone who just focuses on the thing in front of you. Your whole life you had a plan--get married, have kids, and secure a stable home life. Although, now that you think about it, your way isn't really that effective. What has your way got you? A decaying marriage, no kids, and a job that you tolerate at most.

"Just one at a time. Nothing can be that daunting if it's one at a time." He smiles big and leans forward, "And let's face it, your first hour is going to be spent watching me almost bust my ass on rollerblades."

You giggle and look at the ground, only for Bucky to lift your face up with a finger on your chin. He stares deep into your eyes, making you think if you stare long enough, you'll meld into one. His grip changes so that most of his fingers cup your jaw, allowing his thumb to trace your bottom lip. His metal finger tugs downward on your lip, releasing it from the hold between your teeth.

"That's definitely one of my current favorite noises you make." He struts off to the front counter, you trailing behind with a confused look on your face at his dopey smile. The implications of his comment seeping into your bones causing a deep heat to light in the pit of your stomach.

As you approach the teller, Bucky's already disclosed his shoe size for the rental pair of skates. The teenager behind the counter makes a bored grunt at the instruction and turns to you, waiting for your size before they trot off to fill the order. Once again, you're left alone with your bartender.

You lean against the raised platform, shoulder digging into the overhanging lip of the counter. During this brief moment of solitude, you take your time taking in Bucky. He really is a mountain of a man, coming in at six-foot-five inches of corded muscle and steel, he's really nothing less than impressive.

His hair just brushes the top of his broad shoulders, though you hardly ever see it down. He always manages to have it tied securely at the base of his neck. However one time, you remember walking into the bar only to see Bucky behind the bar, as usual. Except his hair was bundled on the top of his head. Little wisps of hair fell from the looser hold, framing his forehead and neck. On top of that, he was wearing a red henley that was at least two sizes too small with the sleeves rolled up, showing off his differing forearms in the dim light of Commandos.

It's safe to say that during those few hours you spent with Bucky looking like that, you were a little slower to respond. What's interesting though is that Bucky looks nothing like John. You always thought that John was your ideal man. Based on who you married, you would have assumed you'd be more attracted to Steve than Bucky. Instead, you find yourself lacing up a pair of rental roller skates, that might give you athlete's foot if you're not careful, with the imposing dark-haired man next to you.

"Why bartending?"

The question floats between you as you take the floor. Glistening hardwood reflects the bright neon of the strobe lights and your image beside Bucky. You watch as he glances down at you before refocusing his attention on the path in front of him.

"Well, if I'm being honest, I kind of stumbled into it." He wobbles dangerously as he speaks, hand jutting out to grasp yours in an act of safety. "Shit, sorry." He apologizes sheepishly but makes no move to drop your hand.

You giggle beside him, butterflies awakening from his act of self-comfort, a feeling you haven't felt since your relationship with John began. Bucky squeezes your hand, straightens his back, and pulls you around the rink.

"When I was discharged, it wasn't so much as bartending as it was the ownership of the bar. It gave me a chance to gain some semblance of control back." He stares off into the distance as he speaks as if he's reciting words he said time and time before. You peer up at him, waiting for the rest of his explanation.

Even though you've known Bucky for as long as you have, neither of you has really delved too deep into your pasts. To say you know next to nothing about Bucky's time in the military would be generous. You hum while you ponder his answer.

"Does that need carry into other aspects of your life?"

It's a genuine question, something to move the conversation along because you honestly want to know more about the man beside you. The double entendre of the question doesn't process until you see Bucky blushing beside you with a wry grin. Your eyes bulge, words stammering out of your mouth without finding their full forms.

"Oh-- uh, n— that's not wh--" Your eyes drop to the ground beneath you, the sleek wood reflecting the neon disco of the roller rink lights.

Bucky chuckles beside you, slowly rubbing his thumb against the knuckles of the hand he still holds. He steers the pair of you to the side of the rink, locking you against the slightly sticky bannister with his strong forearms. You quickly level him with a questioning stare as he leans forward and takes a deep breath, undoubtedly getting a strong whiff of your soft vanilla and cherry perfume.

“I’m trying to be very good for you, Peanut. So I’m going to say this once and then we’re going to continue with our date and it isn’t going to come up again until you bring it up yourself.” Your nod is almost imperceptible, but considering how Bucky continues without consequence, you figure he was just mentally preparing himself for his next comment.

“I am enamored with you. I want to have sex with you. I have fantasies that revolved exclusively around you. However, I’m not putting any pressure on this relationship or you. I understand that you need time to process your grief and your marriage, but just know that I’m more than happy to help you through the process and I certainly hope that I’m the first one you go to once you get to a place when you feel confident enough to explore your sexuality.”

You flush at his words, a hot streak racing up your spine before settling in your cheeks, blossoming them into a heavy shade of crimson. Bucky’s left hand comes up to your forehead, brushing away a strand of hair out of your face.

“But not only that, I want to have a relationship with you. I want the late night cuddles. I want the early morning breakfasts. I want to come home from the bar and take a shower with you. I want to wash your hair. I want you to massage my shoulders after a long day. I want to host Saturday barbecues with you for my family and our friends. I want to drive you to the bookstore and regret driving the motorcycle after you get so many because I just can’t say no to you.”

Bucky’s hand drifts down your arm, tracing the soft skin, taking his time to lace his fingers with yours. He pulls you away from the ledge, leading you two into the hustle and bustle of the roller rink. A smile stretches across his features as he tugs you along, a slow steady silence backed by the bumping base of the house music. You fumble with who to respond to him, but you eventually decide that no words are necessary. You know that yiu’ll be able to discuss things further later, you allow yourself to fall into the comfortable company that is your favorite bartender.

Time passes by at a rate you aren’t able to fathom. One moment you’re skating circles around Bucky, laughing as his arms jut out to his sides, steadying himself as he sways and wobbles. You flit out of his reach for a beat only for his arms to wrap around your waist, bringing you to his warm front. You squeal as you clutch his arms, the difference in temperature providing a level of comfort that you’ve been craving for months now.

You tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder, his long hair tickling the apples of your cheek. Soft puffs of air hit your face as he peers down at you, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. He remains stoic, only his eyes giving you any indication that he wants more out of your current embrace.

“Attention all Rockin’ Roller Rink patrons, the rink will be closing in ten minutes! Please return all skates and other rentals to the front desk before leaving.”

The voice over the loudspeaker startles you causing you to jump in Bucky’s embrace. He tightens his hold on you, ensuring that you don’t topple over on your wheels. You breathe out a heavy sigh creating a slight distance between you.

“Come on, let’s go.”

Bucky is quick to follow you to the benches on the side to you could change your shoes so you can return the skates. You’re sure to take out your phone from your back pocket before sitting down. Against your better judgement, you swipe across the screen to turn off the silencing option. The screen illuminates and dozens of notifications flood the screen and you cringe. You shouldn’t feel bad, yore only doing what constitutes an open marriage. You sent the text, that was all that was required of you, and let’s be honest even that was more than what John deserves. Bucky leans back, shooting a glance at your now busy phone.

“Wow, he sure doesn’t miss a beat, does he?”

“Yeah, I’m sure everything he’s texted me the past two hours has been entirely supportive and not at all condescending or hostile.” Sarcasm bleeds into your words, making Bucky chuckle under his breath.

“Oh, ol’ Johnny boy? Nah, he’s nothing but a big old softy who knows that he’s only getting it as good as he’s giving it.” You huff at the comment just as your phone begins to buzz on the tabletop.

A groan leaves your mouth, slipping out before you can filter it. Bucky eyes you as your finger swipes the call button to accept. You haven’t even gotten the phone to your ear before John’s voice carries through the speaker, shouting expletives and derogatory remarks about you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re on a fucking date right now? I can’t believe you!”

Your whole body cringes, and you rush to shove your shoes on to take the call outside. You leave without saying a word to Bucky, unable to look him in the eye while the supposed love of your life berates you over the phone.

“John, I don’t know what you’re upset about.” You tried to remain calm while he carried on. “I followed the single rule that you set in place.”

Bucky takes your free hand and leads you to his bike, leaning against the seat while he watches you pace in front of him. Your once smooth features are now ridged and tense, worry lines aging you ten years the second you get on the phone with John. Your forefinger and thumb find home on the bridge of your nose, pinching the bone there to prevent the sudden headache. You finally stop in your tracks, stomping your foot out of exasperation and then steel your voice.

“I refuse to allow you to speak to me this way, John. You’re the one that opened our marriage, I’m simply following the precedent that you set. I honestly have no idea what your issue with this is.” Your eyes dart to Bucky, “Now, I don’t feel comfortable coming home when you’re speaking to me like this over the phone, so don’t wait up. I’ll come home when you cool off.”

Tears begin to rim your lash line as John continues to shout his lungs bloody. You refuse to meet Bucky’s eyes as you lower the phone, thumb hovering over the end call button. A dark metal palm extends your way, a silent ask for the phone that you don’t have the strength to deny. Bucky watches you as he brings the phone to his ear, listening to your husband’s rant.

“This is completely fucking ridiculous! You’re my wife and I demand you come home and we talk this out like adults. You’re being so unreasonable, right now. And the fact that you think it’s acceptable to text me you’re on a date instead of asking if you could go on one? Who the fuck do you think you are? It’s best you remember who you belong to. You’re so in for it whe—“

Bucky laughs, your head shoots up, eyes locking with his for the first time since you’ve evacuated the roller rink. The laugh is a short, sardonic laugh. One you’ve never heard him make before, almost as if he’s using it as a throat clear. Your breath catches in your throat, knowing how John reacts to being challenged in any capacity.

“Now, I don’t know who you think you are, talking to my Peanut the way that you are. But I’ll tell you one thing for damn sure, you aren’t going to be speaking to her that way ever again.”

It’s another thing about Bucky you’ve never experienced. His tone. It’s dull, lifeless, but full threats that made your skin grow cold and your spine stiffen. You knew Bucky would never cause you harm, but those who hurt the people he loved? The same respect isn’t extended.

“And who the fuck is this?”

“I’m the guy.”

He’s eerily calm, the type of calm you’ve never seen him. You’ve been a distant onlooker while he deals with rowdy bar guests, having to throw out drunk customers who reached their limit and then some. But this… this was something else. John is still yelling, sure to be disturbing your neighbors earning you yet another noise complaint, possibly the one that gets you evicted from your apartment.

“What guy?”

“The guy that’s going to rip your spine out through your throat if you threaten my girl again.”

The world stills. The noisy streets of Brooklyn fade as you search Bucky’s eyes for any semblance of a joke. His eyes have darkened, latching onto yours with a depth that you’ve never seen in them. He reaches for you, pulling you in between his legs by your belt loop. You can hear the stammering on the other end clearly, John’s never had anyone stand up to him with such sincerity.

“If you’re done being a pussy, I’m a little preoccupied. If you’d like to continue this conversation, you may do so anytime at my bar. Howling Commandos. You can Google it and me in your free time. Right now, I’m on a date and you’re interrupting it and disturbing my girl.” Bucky’s hand snakes around your waist, pressing his chin to your chest while maintaining eye contact with you. “Now, apologize to her.”

He switches the phone to speaker mode, allowing you to hear the weakness invading John’s voice. All the while, Bucky’s eyes never leave yours. Your body melts into him, his warmth something that you didn’t realize you were craving. John stammers on his end of the phone, eking out excuses as to not apologize. Bucky clears his throat once more, the action causing his Adam’s apple to bob against your breasts.

“Apologize, Johnny boy.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Three monotonous beeps echo out into the silent parking lot. Wind whips against your cheeks, igniting a shiver through your body. He shoves your phone into his front pocket before wrapping his other hand around your waist. Bucky shifts again, pressing his forehead into your stomach instead of staring up at you. Your arms come up around his shoulders, burying your face into his soft hair.

“Thank you.”

Bucky says nothing in return, squeezing your middle before pulling back to meet your gaze.

“Let’s go, you can stay at mine.”

He pushes against your hips so he can reposition himself over the bike. You’re quick to stop him, remarking something about him just taking you to a hotel for the night. He cuts you off before you can fully finish your sentence.

“I’m sorry Peanut, but you surely don’t think I’m about to let you spend the night at some sketch hotel by yourself. And I’m certainly not going to let you go back to that apartment with that temperamental skeeze of a husband you have.”

“Let me?” You back up, resting your hand on your now cocked hip.

“Peanut.” Bucky stares up at you, “I didn’t mean it in that way. I’m sorry. I’m only saying that I want you to be safe and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in either of those environments. I would be much for comfortable if you came home with me so that I could protect you.”

You shoulders relax, in the back of your mind, you know that he didn’t mean anything by it. John always sets you on edge, and it’s unfair of you to put those emotions onto Bucky.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. It’s just… John.” Your sentence trails off, no ending really needed because you know that Bucky understands.

“Come on. Get on, Peanut Butter. We aren’t far from my place.”

You mount Bucky’s bike, his left hand immediately going to your thigh, his fingers threading themselves between the rips of your jeans to feel the soft skin of your knee. The ride to Bucky’s apartment is quiet, the rumbling of the motorcycle beneath you is powerful and steady. Every chance he got, Bucky would slip his fingers into the rips of your jeans, aching to be close to you in every way possible. You lean forward, resting your helmeted head against his back while he drives.

If there was one thing that you never would have guessed, it’s that Bucky Barnes would have pale green wallpaper in his apartment. Not just a pale green, he proudly declares that it’s agate green, the color he spent weeks painstakingly debating between that and nurture green. You giggle as you toe your shoes off at the front door, quietly taking in his personal space.

The exposed brick melds with the dark countertops in a way that’s almost soothing. The pendant lights above the island cast a soft glow over the open floor plan. Bucky turns to face you, peeling off his leather jacket and hanging it on a hook beside the door. You catch his eyes, only to be distracted by the wall of bookshelves on the far end of his apartment.

“Oh my god, Bucky I had no idea you were so interested in reading.”

He laughs, shoving his hands in his front pockets while walking behind you as you approach the stacks of books he has scattered throughout his home.

“I’ve always enjoyed reading. When I was deployed there wasn’t much to do other than read. I had my Ma send me all different kinds of books, from new releases to her favorite classics to stuff my little sister was reading in school.” He stands beside you, shoulder to shoulder as you glance up at him. “Guess I never kicked the habit, though there are worse vices that a person could have.”

You hum, refocusing your attention on the books, but only for a second as Bucky reaches his hand out and leads you up the stairs to the lofted bedroom. Bucky’s comforter matches the green walls that sits behind his TV. Not only that, but his pillow cases vary from overly fluffy to soft silks. The mixture of textures and fabrics is almost too much for your brain to comprehend. You’re about to question it when Bucky returns to your line of sight, a dark Henley in one hand and a pair of boxers in the other.

“I don’t have any pajamas for you, but you can wear these.”

He’s almost sheepish as he presents you with the clothes, a light blush casting over his cheeks. It’s so interesting to interact with him. At times, he’s the most suave man you’ve ever met, and at others, it’s like he’s a lovestruck teenager who’s just got their first girlfriend.

You thank him and follow behind him as he leads you to the en-suite bathroom. Just as Bucky begins to explain where everything is, he bends down to the bottom cabinets and retrieves a spare toothbrush.

“Planning for extra company, huh?” You joke while poking him in the side as he stands next to you in the doorway.

Bucky’s tongue peaks out of his mouth, his teeth catching on his bottom lip as he stares down at you. His eyes do that thing again, the same thing he did just before he laid out his feelings for you earlier. Your breath catches in your throat, is he leaning closer? Are you inching toward him? What are you doing?

“Bucky,” the tension breaks, a dam of emotions behind held back by your dedication to your marriage. “I feel like I should explain.”

His hands rest on your shoulders, quick to silence your worries. He leans forward, dotting a quick kiss to your forehead. Bucky lingers, the soft press of his lips shoots warm and fuzzy feelings through your bones.

“Tomorrow. You’ve had a long night. We can talk about everything in the morning.”

A weight of anxiety lifts from your shoulders as you watch Bucky begins descend the stairs, lush blankets and pillows in hand. You turn back to his room, allowing yourself to sink into his private space.

You peel back the duvet and sit on the edge of his mattress, unsure if you should fully dive into his being. If you’re quiet enough you can hear Bucky downstairs, shuffling on the couch in an attempt to find a comfortable position.

Your eyeline floats over his bedside table, the lamp atop it casting a pale yellow glow over the entire room. The surface next to you is covered in items that are unequivocally Bucky—a worn copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth, a leather bound journal, the few gold rings that he something adorns his digits with while bartending. His rings clink against each other as your fingers drift over the cold metal.

Among his assorted objects is your phone on his charger. The light pink case is slightly out of place, but not enough to be obnoxious. You smile to yourself while lying back in his sheets.

You really do owe him an explanation. Bucky deserves more than some broken woman who’s in a shitty marriage. He deserves the world and then some. All you can offer is a somewhat clear thought process.

You think on John’s actions today. He really showed you his true colors. You start to wonder if he really cares about you or if just cares about having a wife. If it’s the second one, why does it have to be you?

You flip to the other side, now facing the back wall of windows. Your mind is about as calm as the city right now. New York is never quiet, even this far out in Brooklyn. You’re never safe from the light pollution that constantly blocks out the beauty that is the natural night sky.

It makes you long for your hometown, the wide open spaces with vast fields of nothingness that stretch for miles on end. Maybe it’s time you pay it a visit. It would be nice to escape the hodge podge of a life you’re currently living.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you force yourself to slow your breathing. Distantly you can hear Bucky begin to snore, a low monotonous sound that you cling to. For the first time in months you feel secure. Your muscles decompress, your brow unfurls and you allow yourself to truly relax.

With everything that’s going on, Bucky deserves more. You deserve more, but that can all wait until tomorrow.

Tomorrow. That’s a good thought.

#bartender!bucky x reader #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bartender!bucky x peanut!reader #bucky x peanut #consequences #ray's writing #bartender!bucky barnes x peanut!reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes au #bartender!bucky #bartender!bucky barnes x you #bartender!bucky barnes x y/n #bartender!bucky x you

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seresinhangmanjake · 3 months

Text

The One I Want: Part 15

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: cursing, emotional stuff and vulnerability, fluff, angst, inaccurate navy stuff, typos for sure (fr didn't proofread tonight)

Words: 3537

The One I Want Masterlist

---

“He really didn’t call last night?” Millie finally asks. She’s been watching you out of the corner of her eye for the better half of an hour, sitting in a plastic chair on the opposite side of the gift shop’s counter as she unconvincingly flips through the pages of a bridal magazine.

The stack Millie brought to your work was an attempt to distract you so you would have something to think about other than Jake, but you’ve done nothing other than stare at the same wedding dress on the same page since Millie arrived. You can’t even say it’s a nice dress that would compliment your friend’s figure, so you’re about as useless as they come for a Maid of Honor. Dresses, flowers, bachelorette parties—it all sits nestled in the back of your mind, and you’d feel horrible for not taking the details of the wedding more seriously, but right now you’re not alone in using it as a distraction from missing the men in your lives.

At least Millie has received some reassurance. Rooster has taken every opportunity to call her, to comfort her, to express his love. But Jake? Nothing. The most you’ve gotten is a “He’s fine, just a bit drawn into himself lately. Got a lot on his mind,” from Millie who reported that information secondhand from her fiance.

That Jake has put you in a place of questioning is a blow to your heart, but in an effort to stay sane, you haven’t allowed yourself to create potential explanations for him in your head. He’ll reach out eventually, and when he does, you trust he’ll give you all the answers you need.

But for now, you shake your head.

“What is wrong with that boy?” Millie huffs, leaning back in her chair. “I was hopin’ he’d make up for his lack of calls with a beautiful handwritten letter confessin’ his love, but good lord.”

“He already told me he loves me.”

The magazine drops onto her lap. Her jaw practically unhinges. “How are you just tellin’ me this now?” she asks. “What did you say?”

Running your fingers through your hair, you close your magazine and shove it aside. “He didn’t let me say anything,” you tell her, relief washing over you at finally letting it out. “It was over the phone as they were leaving, and he hung up before I could get two words in.”

Millie sighs. “Oh, Honey.” She sits up and scoots the chair as close to the counter as possible so she can easier wrap your hand in hers.

“You know–” she begins, but then pauses as she rethinks, “Or, well, maybe you don’t know—but you should know Jake doesn’t throw that word around lightly. I haven’t known him as long as the others, but I do know that you were a total game-changer. He told all of us that from the moment he saw you he was a goner.”

Heat floods your cheeks at hearing the words he once told you. You’ve believed him to be genuine for a long time, but it’s incredibly fulfilling to know he felt strongly enough to tell his friends before you were willing to consider your own feelings for him.

Being honest with yourself, you weren’t in the same place the first time you saw Jake. You thought he was beautiful and magnetic, and being that beautiful and magnetic, you were convinced he was going to be just as troublesome. There was no room in your mind to consider yourself a goner. Your shields were unbreakable. But now, when you replay the last few months of your life—replay the first time you really took him in, the first time his fingers touched yours—you can acknowledge that in choosing to stay here, the feelings you’ve developed for him were inevitable. Goner for goner—it just took you a moment to catch up.

Millie grins at the red tinge you can’t conceal. “He’s been Mr. Game Changer himself, hmm?”

Shooting her a look before playfully rolling your eyes, you say, “Don’t tease me about things you already know, Millie.”

“The next time he calls, do you want me to tell Bradley to knock some sense back into that pretty, blond head?”

You chuckle. “No, it’s ok,” you say. “Jake was patient with me. It’s my turn to be patient with him. He’ll come through.”

“I’m sure it'll be soon. For you, he’d–” Millie’s eyes flick just past your head. “Oh, fuck no,” she mutters as the store’s door swings open and closes from behind you. “We don’t accept trash here. Please take yourself out,” Millie sasses, making you turn in your chair.

Brit doesn’t acknowledge the tiny redhead. Her dark eyes are darts, so focused on you she hardly blinks. For some reason, though, you don’t sense the animosity you did the last time she brought herself around.

“It’s been a while,” she says to you.

Millie scoffs. “Not long enough.”

As much as you want to, you don’t feed into your friend’s comments. Defending you is appreciated, but you have a feeling that poking at the blonde will delay her departure, and Brit doesn’t need to be in your life and space any longer than you desire to be in hers.

“What can I do for you?” you ask.

“I came here to say something.”

“We don’t have a good track record there.”

With arms crossed, Brit rolls her eyes. “Right, well…I was pissed.”

Millie mimics Brit’s behavior; arm-crossing, eye-rolling, and attitude included. “Award-winnin’ excuse, honey.”

“Can't you scram?”

“Can and will are two different things.”

Your eyes move to Millie. The fire within her is too powerful to die out against the challenge before her, and you’re positive the two could go on for hours if you let them, neither willing to back down. But you want Brit to get on with it. Surely she knows after her last failure that she’s unable to affect you or Jake and the plans you have with one another, all of which do not include her. So what else is there for her to bother you with?

“Millie, it’s ok,” you say, snapping the tense band of their stare-off.

Her face softens when she looks at you. Words don’t have to be exchanged for her to understand what you’re asking of her. She stands and walks to Brit with a pointed finger. “I’m gonna be watchin’ you through the window like a stalker the entire time.”

After stepping outside, she immediately turns to face the window, just as promised.

You stand as well and brace yourself against the wall, keeping the barrier of the counter between you. “I’d love to get this over with, so what do you want to say?”

Brit takes her time, running her fingernail over the packets of gum in their display before she decides to take a seat in the vacant chair. With her legs crossed, her hands clasp in her lap. “I don’t know if you are aware, but Jake dropped by for a nice little visit a couple of days before he left,” she shares with you. Then she sighs as if bored. “He said some things. A lot of things. Bared his soul and all that shit. It was rather dramatic.”

While shocked, you suppose you don’t need a million guesses to figure out why he would go to her before leaving you. He expressed his concerns weeks ago, and no matter how fiercely you tried to reassure him, you couldn’t snuff it out completely. You could always see it in his eyes—a dimmed but persistent flickering of worry.

Brit yanks you from your thoughts. “You’re not ever going to let him go, are you,” she says.

“No.”

“Yea…” She runs her tongue over her teeth, making that squelching sound you had hoped to never hear again. “He’s not going to let you go, either. He made that clear.”

You get that feeling again—that deep fulfillment from being with Jake. You could’ve lived your whole life and the adventures that come with it—from marriage to children to grandchildren, if that is what you and Jake choose—completely unaware of him working behind the scenes to protect and defend and love you.

It seems silly to not have realized before, but you’re so new to this kind of love that inexperience has you approaching it in a fairly straightforward manner. You don’t hide your emotions or actions from Jake anymore. You’re sad, you cry, he comforts you. You’re mad, you yell, he calms you. You’re happy, you smile, and he smiles right with you. And you’ve done the same for him. Open and honest and, as you once agreed, hearts bare.

You would do anything for Jake, and he for you, but you never considered that his affection extended past what you see. Not because it shouldn’t; that’s what love is, you know that. But the love of your past was hollow, very out of sight out of mind on their end; a disconnection that those men used to boost their egos by making fun of you to their friends or flirting with other women when you weren’t around.

Unless taught differently, a person only knows what they've known. So the idea of Jake going above and beyond in that way simply never crossed your mind.

“At first, I hated him for it,” Brit says, suspiciously even-toned. “Showing up at my door, desperately trying to appeal to god knows what while he repeatedly reminds me that he won’t be with me because he’s in love with you. I mean, can you believe the fucking audacity of a man to do that to a woman?”

You can, because you know hurt and embarrassment inside and out, and up and down. Without the context of their situation—were it any other man spouting off to any other woman—you could find it in yourself to feel sympathy as easily as you find your next breath. But Brit deserves the treatment she’s describing; not for the sake of cruelly getting even after the harassment she doled out, but because she needs to hear the truth of the matter from Jake’s lips. She’s in the wrong, what she has done is unacceptable, and perhaps most importantly: you are not the reason Jake doesn’t want to be with her. Whether she eventually accepts that truth or not is another thing entirely.

“I’ve spent these weeks hating him more than I thought possible,” she says.

You shake your head. “Brit, I don’t understand where this is going, and to be honest, I’m–”

“You once asked me if I was tired,” she interrupts you, her tone raising to overlap yours. It succeeds in silencing you. “Well, I’m tired.”

If you could find your voice, you don’t know what you would do with it. When she cornered you in the Hard Deck’s bathroom with a plethora of insults and threats, you shot back at her with few words and a final question. But considering her lack of self-reflection, it wasn’t a question you imagined she might one day reassess.

Brit rises and straightens out her top. She gives you one final look. “So, now you know.”

Then she exits the store and disappears around the other side of the building where the sidewalk meets the street.

“What the actual fuck was that about?” Millie asks, returning to your side.

You’re still staring at the spot where she vanished. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” you start, then swallow, “But I think she’s done with us.”

—

You love all of the things that still smell like Jake. The sheets, the pillow, the interior of his truck, the kitchen because that’s the first place he’d go after putting cologne on in the morning. He lingers everywhere, and when you close your eyes, you can trick yourself into believing he’s right beside you. But after a while of sitting around the scent with your eyes closed, the illusion dissipates. If Jake was actually near you, only so much time would pass before he’d begin touching and kissing and whispering sweet things in your ear.

“You know I can’t help myself,” he’d say. And without him here, you can’t convince the scene to play out.

It’s like a bad dream that doesn’t lose its power over you even after you wake. It’s still in your brain, in the race of your heart, in the heavy gasps from your lungs. Dreams you often have that, even when sweet and beautiful, aren’t. If they’re not full of horrible images that leave you shaking in bed, they’re reminders of good times with Jake, and it’s the good times that ache the most when they’re over.

Tonight, though, it’s not the dreams that shoot you awake. It’s the ring of your phone from an unknown number.

When Jake first left, every unknown number that popped up on your screen jolted an electric shock through your body. But after so many telemarketers and automated calls from the apartment building updating you on temporary changes to office hours, you stopped expecting anything else.

Grabbing your phone, you slam the tip of your finger onto the little green circle and lift it to your ear. “Seriously, calling in the middle of the night is so messed up! I told you to take me off your list!”

“What list?”

Your eyes widen, and every scrap of half-asleep grumpiness falls away at the sound of his voice. “J-Jake?”

“Hey, beautiful…”

He sounds as tired as you are, but you can practically feel the smile on his face. You’re sure it’s a weak smile, all he can muster due to the exhaustion, but it’s there and it’s for you.

Your vision blurs and you blink and fat droplets soak into his comforter. You rub your thumb over the damp circles. “I should slap you,” you say, your nose already becoming stuffy from your tears.

“Oh, you should do much worse than that,” he replies. You lightly chuckle, so he lightly chuckles, then silence holds until he sighs. “I’m so sorry. I miss you so damn much.”

“So much you didn’t want to call before now? It's been a long time, Jake.”

“I did want to call,” he tells you. “And I could have—I should have—but I just…I freaked out a bit.”

“Why?”

Jake sighs again, and he must’ve pulled the phone away from his face because there’s a muttering so faint you can barely hear it. But then loudly and clearly, he says, “Because I fucked up, beautiful, and I’m embarrassed. You deserved better.”

Your mouth goes dry.

Fucked up. Fucked. Up.

Before you can stop yourself, you catch a glimpse of what the next few moments could turn your life into.

Fucked up. Slept with someone. Sorry. Thought I loved you. Not your fault. You can stay at the apartment until I get back.

Pain, and heartbreak, and tears fatter than the ones you’re currently shedding. Lost trust that will never be found for anyone else. No more confidence. No more self-love. No more vulnerability.

Twelfth new place.

But then he says, “That’s not how I should have told you I love you.”

One sentence. A snap of the fingers and every invading thought is shoved out of your head. You breathe. Shake your head. Swipe your fingers across your cheek to wipe away the first tear brought on by what you thought was about to break your heart.

“It’s not how I wanted to do it,” he continues. “I was going to tell you so many times in the week before I left, but I didn’t know how you were going to react. Then I thought I’d say it at the dock, but Rooster was next to me and Millie was next to you, and no way in hell was I going to have them there the first time I said that to you.

“Before I knew it, we were on the ship and it hit me that I ran out of chances. But I couldn’t go without you knowing, so I didn’t think, I just did it,” he says. “I didn’t realize how fucking lame it was until the next day. I mean, Rooster told Millie on a damn ferris wheel, and Bob…” There's a pause. “Actually, I shouldn't tell you what Bob did for his girl; it shames us all.”

Finally, he takes a breath. “Anyway, after we were gone, whenever I wanted to call you I froze up because I had no idea what you would say and how you would feel. The thought of you being disappointed with me or with something I did–”

“Jake–”

“Especially something like this—it makes me–”

“Jake, I don't care that you told me over the phone,” you manage to slip in between his words.

“Y-You don’t?”

“No, of course not,” you snicker, running the back of your hand under your nose to clear away any snot. “What I care about is that you didn't let me respond,” you tell him. “I care that the only way I've known you're safe has been through Millie.”

This time, Jake’s sigh sounds different; one more of relief than anything. Minutes of talking has anxiety lifting off of both of your shoulders by the pounds. Jake is okay, Jake is safe, Jake still loves you. You’re okay, you’re safe, you’re not so disappointed in him that you didn’t hang up the second you heard his voice.

“Beautiful, if I could kick myself I would.”

“I’m sure you could ask one of the others to do it.”

“Anyone in particular you’d prefer to do the honors?”

You hum. “Javy never skips leg day. I’m sure he’s got a strong swing.”

Jake laughs loud enough for you to jerk your ear away from the speaker. “I’ll surprise him with the good news in the morning,” he says.

There’s a handful of things you could say in response. Cute things. Witty things. Sassy things, like requesting pictures of said kick in the ass as proof. But you don’t say those things. While you’d love to continue on the lighter path of conversation, you have more questions.

“Why didn’t you let me respond?” you ask.

It’s amazing that you can’t see him yet you can feel his shift in attitude. As if in slow motion, you picture each phase of the bright smile disintegrating off his face.

Jake clears his throat. “You want the selfish or the less selfish reason first?”

“In that order is fine.”

“Ok. Selfishly, I didn’t want to hear you say you don’t love me,” he says. “But that wasn’t my first thought. My first thought was that I just needed you to know. I didn’t care if you loved me too, I cared that you knew you were loved.

“It was after it was out of my mouth that I realized you might feel pressured to give me a response, which I also didn’t want for you. Then the selfish part came into play because what if you responded with anything other than that you love me too? Would it have made me stop loving you? No. But it would’ve hurt…badly.”

“You honestly think that I don’t?”

“I don’t know, beautiful.”

You can see his weak smile again, and you can picture how this conversation would go if he were in front of you rather than a thousand miles away. With that smile, he’d hold your hand and brush your hair behind your ear. He’d smooth your tears back into your cheeks with his thumb because he’d hate that they’re there before he pulls you into him to kiss you.

“You’ve been through so much,” he says. “I don’t expect you to be in love with me, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn't hurt to hear you confirm it.”

You cry a little harder for the tears that shouldn’t be shedding; for the uncertainty he’s been feeling; for the questions you’ve been asking yourself over the last couple of months. All unnecessary. All of which could’ve been solved had he given you a chance to respond or called you at his first opportunity.

You empathize with why he didn’t. Jake may be a man who doesn’t throw the ‘love’ word around often, but you’re a woman who has refused to throw it out at all. You protect yourself that way. You maintain some semblance of power by never speaking it aloud to someone who would not reciprocate. You understand what it means to tell someone you love them when you’ve lost those you love, and you’ve refused to do it for that purpose. It’s a risk of facing more loss.

But it’s a risk Jake took that would have instantly proved worth it. You only wish he could have known that at the time.

“Jake, I–”

“Please don’t,” he stops you. “I don’t want you to say anything until I get back. Either way, I mean. If you feel how I do, or, you know…if you don’t. I’d rather not know until I’m with you again.”

“You would rather wait months to know how I feel?”

“Well, that’s the thing, beautiful,” he says. “We might be coming home sooner than expected.”

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @rosiahills22 @oliviah-25 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @hookslove1592 @alwaysclassyeagle

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adamcoled · 10 months

Text

jealousy | rhea ripley

rhea ripley x fem!reader

summary: you and rhea aren’t anything official, but you’re still jealous upon seeing her flirt with others.

word count: 3,838

warnings: just slight sexual implications i think?

a/n: WOW um okay hi, i haven’t posted writing on this blog in YEARS but i recently got fully back into wrestling and have developed such a love for rhea ripley. so i decided to start writing again, but it’s been so long this definitely isn’t my best work. here’s to getting back into the swing of things i hope! (also i know samantha is engaged to ricochet and ofc all of it is just character work, but it made for a good plot soo)

Rhea was a flirt. That much was true long before you, and it was certainly not a secret to most. She had the charm, and of course the looks, so people were naturally drawn to her, and she loved that. Flirting, to her, was fun – harmless fun, for the most part – and typically it never went beyond cheeky comments or tantalizing gestures.

So when Rhea began flirting with you, initially you didn’t think much of it and really had no reason to. She was attractive – incredibly attractive – and her voice could melt you instantly if you let it; but this was just her thing. At first, you would catch her staring at you backstage or at other company events. Then, she started making it a point to tell you how beautiful you looked each time she saw you. From there, you were texting a lot more and hanging out outside of schedule. But still, it was never anything official and they were never labeled as “dates,” which you internally hated yourself for forgetting.

Because now, you were jealous. A fiery red jealousy that had you feeling betrayed without the entitlement to do so. For some reason, you thought things seemed different between you and Rhea. She seemed more serious and attentive, even remembering small details you’d told her about things you enjoyed. You couldn’t imagine she did that for just anyone she happened to flirt with.

Yet there you were last night, scrolling through Twitter and seeing endless posts about Rhea and Samantha. Rhea was being her usual flirty self, smiling, blowing kisses, and surely winking beneath those glasses, and it was obvious Samantha was enjoying it. Even worse, there were also comment threads with Cathy, and you knew it was all lighthearted, but it still made you feel some type of way.

You liked Rhea. A lot actually. Maybe that’s why you wanted to believe she liked you too and treated you differently from the rest. Clearly, you were wrong. And you weren’t going to be strung along in a game or play along with silly flirting when you genuinely hoped for more with her. That’s why now that she was here in front of you, you were going to be as indifferent as possible.

“Hey pretty girl,” Rhea greeted, smile beaming as always. She had finally found you backstage after you’d made it a point to not respond to some of her texts. It didn’t seem like she was too upset or phased by that judging by the greeting she’d given you.

“Hey,” you responded with only a half-smile of your own. That was something she definitely picked up on, because you swore you’d never seen her face fall faster.

“Are you alright?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dropping your attention back to your phone. Usually, she would have your full focus, but you were making every attempt to emphasize your feigned disinterest. “I’m fine, what’s up?”

Rhea used her thumb and forefinger to grip your chin and tilt it upwards, forcing your gaze towards her rather than your phone screen. Hastily, she studied your face as if she would be able to read your thoughts merely by doing so; with her eyes looking you over so intently, you felt your face heating up quickly.

“You seem off,” she finally commented, her finger tracing along your jawline from your chin before finally dropping back down to her side. You immediately missed the feeling of her touch against your skin, but that was something you would have to subdue. One thing you noticed was that Rhea seemed genuinely concerned, her eyebrows downturned and the smile she always wore - around you at least - nowhere in sight.

“No, Rhea, I’m really okay,” you shrugged.

“Then why are you acting like you can’t wait to get away from me?”

Her bluntness shouldn’t have come as a shock to you, but you were still taken aback when she asked so outright. While she usually oozed confidence, that seemed to be lost now. And it almost made you think you had been right about the two of you all along. But then you remembered how content she looked in those videos with Samantha, and how easily she could flirt with someone else when you had secretly been turning down advances in hopes there would be a real chance at a relationship between you and Rhea.

“I’m not acting like that. I really don’t care if you’re around or not,” you lied, and it was meant to sound nonchalant and unbothered but you silently cursed yourself for making it come out more aggressively.

“You don’t care?” she repeated incredulously, almost in disbelief of how drastically you changed. Just a few days ago, you were telling her how much you adored her smile with her head in your lap. Now, she couldn’t figure out why you wanted nothing to do with her - and it was crushing her.

“Listen, can we please talk about this later? The show’s about to start and the Judgment Day is up first, I don’t want you thinking about this out there.”

“Are we really gonna talk later?” Rhea questioned. “Or is that your cop out to avoid it altogether?”

And you hated her for knowing you so well, because it was partially your dread of the conversation. Still, you didn’t think it was a good idea to have it right before she was slated to go speak in front of thousands of people. At this point, she was frowning, yet still staring right through you.

“We’ll talk,” you promised.

“I have your word? Whatever’s going on is important to me. It really is, Y/N.”

The resolve of indifference you had was all but faded upon hearing how sincerely Rhea cared. You didn’t want to be just another game for her, but it was proving far too difficult for you to ignore your internal feelings. And she looked too pretty standing there, worried about you and looking at you in a way that made you feel naked beneath her eyes. Not in a sexually demanding way - not in the way too many people do - but in a way where you felt like she saw your very soul.

“Find me after the show?” you asked. “I’ll let you take me back to the hotel. Can’t exactly hide from my ride.”

You finally smiled wholeheartedly after making that joke, and Rhea had never been so happy to see a smile before. For a moment, she felt like everything was fine.

“Yeah, I’ll find you, angel.”

From backstage, you watched as Rhea walked out with the Judgment Day and cut a promo just as good as any other, if not better. It was impossible to tell the kind of conversation you two had shortly beforehand, and for that you were grateful. You weren’t sure you could remain as unphased as her, and seeing as you had a match tonight as well, you made it a point to avoid any further interactions with her during show hours. Busying yourself with your phone, Rhea still found a way to affect you when you saw her name flash across the top of your screen, indicating a text.

From: rhea :)

Good luck tonight ❤️

Half inclined to simply leave her on delivered, you hesitantly opened it and sent back a “thanks.” Following the Judgment Day’s segment, the rest of the show seemed to go by quickly, your own match fast approaching. While you were waiting in gorilla to make your entrance, you saw flashes of jet black hair out of the corner of your eye. A subtle glance over revealed it to be Rhea, naturally, standing there talking with Damian. Call it coincidence, or - the more likely case - call it Rhea’s tendency to be methodical with her actions. And like clockwork, her eyes met your own, leaving you no time to look away before she was grinning at you slyly. You thought perhaps her getting into character in front of the WWE Universe took away much of the previous unease and disappointment she felt during your earlier conversation. Because before, she seemed well and truly worried about the state of you, and you were sure she still was to some extent, but now her confidence had returned.

You had hardly any time to process it before you had to walk out, your theme hitting just as Rhea set her focus back on the man in front of her. That stupid, beautiful smile you thought to yourself. Right now, though, you needed to worry about your match against Zoey Stark, especially since you knew Rhea would be watching attentively.

Once the match began, you fell right back into your element. Zoey was a fierce opponent, but you had a fire beneath you and after a well-fought match on both sides, you came out victorious. You were feeling extremely proud of both yours and Zoey’s performance and partially hoped Rhea had watched the whole thing.

(She absolutely did).

Returning backstage, you noticed Rhea was now nowhere in sight. Your match was towards the last hour of Raw, however, which meant you wouldn’t have much time to kill before you’d have to meet up with her anyways. Thankfully, you found Liv, one of your closest friends on the roster, and knew you could spend the remaining time talking with her about anything and everything - the primary topic of discussion being you and Rhea.

“It’s just like, I think things are different with me and her,” you began, to which Liv nodded in agreement. “But then I see how she acts with other people, and I’m not so sure. Am I being delusional for thinking that way?”

“You’d be delusional if you thought otherwise! The girl is a flirt, sure, but she practically fawns over you at any given moment and is always asking about you,” Liv countered. All too often, she’d be the one Rhea would come to when she wanted to find out your whereabouts, as if Liv had a constant read on you at all times. You knew that to be true, but it still wasn’t total reassurance.

“You’re right, I guess. And I kinda told her I’d ride with her to the hotel so we could talk, sooo,” you revealed.

“I thought we were riding together?” Liv questioned, only slightly upset to be losing her driving buddy. If she had to make that sacrifice to advance things between you and Rhea, she’d accept it wholeheartedly. Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, someone else’s voice interrupted. A certain Australian accent.

“I’m sorry, did I steal Y/N away for the night?” Rhea quipped, placing her hand on the small of your back where Liv wouldn’t see.

“Actually, I’m willingly handing her over so that you two can figure your mess out.”

“Well, thank you so very much for that,” Rhea smiled, seeming genuinely appreciative. She redirected her attention from Liv to you. “Told you I’d find ya. You ready to go?”

You glanced down at your phone, not even realizing how much time had passed with you and Liv chatting. The show was nearing the end, and Rhea already had her bag by her side, meanwhile you hadn’t even gotten your stuff together yet.

“I gotta go get my stuff real quick. You wanna wait here for me? I’ll be quick.”

“I can wait,” Rhea nodded, to which you took off with a promise to be no more than ten minutes. Once you were out of earshot, Liv had a few comments for the taller, raven-haired woman.

“I hope you do right by her.”

“Didn’t realize I’d done wrong,” Rhea retorted, confusedly. “...Have I done wrong?”

Liv only shrugged, though she really did believe Rhea was unaware of how she’d unintentionally hurt you. “Nothing that can’t be fixed, I think.”

“Liv,” Rhea started, her face becoming more serious. “I really like her.”

“Then make sure she knows that.”

When you gathered everything and found your way back to Rhea, Liv was long gone and Rhea was leaned against the wall, her eyes shifted down and transfixed on her phone as she absentmindedly scrolled through Twitter. She looked too good even just standing there in her own world. But before you could admire her for much longer, she heard you approaching and glanced up from her phone, shoving it into her pocket immediately upon realizing it was you.

“Ready now, princess?”

The nickname rolled off her tongue so easily, yet it had your cheeks heating up within seconds. You nodded, following behind as she led the way to her car. Outside, she popped the trunk for each of you to toss your bags inside, and then she made sure to open the passenger door for you as well; it was the little gestures like that that made your heart flutter and your feelings for her to grow even stronger.

“Well, I just wanna start by saying you were amazing tonight,” Rhea complimented once she had settled into the driver’s seat.

“Thank you,” you giggled. “You watched it?”

“From start to finish, like always.”

She diverted her attention from the road towards you for a moment, taking notice of how much your face lit up after hearing that. And it wasn’t like she was lying just to make you feel good, either, because she did genuinely watch you each time you stepped into the ring, and she admired you heavily.

“I don’t believe you,” you laughed, although you only slightly meant that.

“I’m serious! Ask Damian or Dom, they’ll vouch,” Rhea exclaimed, pushing her hair back as she did. You weren’t quite sure what to say now, because one, you were feeling quite flustered knowing this, and two, you could only ignore the real reason you were sat in her car for so long. She took note of your silence and decided to tackle the subject head-on, a brazen move from her as always. “You don’t seem like you hate my guts now, at least.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at this.

“You’re being dramatic. I never acted like I hated you.”

“Slightly detested my presence?” she tried again, clearly joking at this point. While things seemed so perfect in this moment, you couldn’t help but think back to everything you’d seen flooding your Twitter timeline and how silly you’d felt for being so upset by it. As much as you liked Rhea, as much as it appeared she liked you, the harmless flirting had really gotten to you and forced you to reconsider much of what you thought. You weren’t even quite sure how to ask everything you wanted to ask, and you were admittedly fearful of rejection. But the only thing worse than rejection is never knowing.

“What do you think about me, Rhea?”

She was taken aback by this, you could tell, because she opened her mouth to speak several times but didn’t let any words out. To her, it was because she didn’t really know how to put it into words; there were so many things she thought about you, so many ways you made her feel, but it had been a confusing thing for her to navigate, unsure of your own feelings.

“I think you’re incredible, amazing in the ring, beautiful and kind but still assertive and badass,” she answered, hoping she’d said all the right things. Truthfully, that was only a small fraction of what she thought regarding you, but she was still holding back. Liv’s words repeated in her head, and she knew if she didn’t make it clear tonight, she may never get that chance again.

“And what do you think about someone like Samantha, or Cathy?”

You had caught her off guard again, the randomness of your question completely perplexing her. She hadn’t a clue why either of those two would be relevant, because - in her eyes - she had already basically forgotten the silly interactions they’d had. It still hadn’t pieced together in her mind that you were even the slightest bit jealous.

“They’re great,” she stated plainly. “Why?”

It was really now or never, you felt like. You had fed her pieces of the story, now she definitely wouldn’t stop until you told her everything, which undoubtedly included your own feelings. Rhea was focused primarily on the road, but she made sure to spare glances your way every so often, and each time you arrived at a red light, that focus was solely on you. She wanted to both try to read your expression and show you she was really, truly listening and wanting to hear what you had to say.

“I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t jealous,” you confessed.

“Jealous?” she repeated, even more confused now than before. But she noticed the way you retreated into yourself, suddenly finding more interest in your fingers. You could no longer look her in the eye, feeling nervous about the information you’d now divulged. This certainly didn’t deter Rhea, though, as she placed her right hand on your thigh and traced light circles with her thumb. “Why were you jealous?”

“I don’t know…it was dumb, I guess. I just saw the videos of you and Samantha, and then Cathy’s Tweets, and it made me feel like everything is just a game to you.”

Her thumb movement stopped, and instead she squeezed your thigh lightly, causing you to lift your head back up to look at her. She was already looking right back, admiring how beautiful you looked with the moonlight creeping into the car and a shyness about you she wasn’t used to.

“You’re right, that is dumb,” she affirmed. “Because do you think I know Samantha or Cathy’s top three favorite movies? Or their specific Starbucks order? The way they like their pizza? Do you think I’ve memorized all those things for anyone other than you?”

Before you could answer, Rhea moved her fingers to your wrist and asked you to push up your sleeve, which you did. She tapped directly on a birthmark of yours without even looking.

“Do you think I know each of their freckles and birthmarks?”

You were dumbfounded, at a loss for words with how much she really noticed about you. And that was only scratching the surface. While your flirtation had only started within the last few months, she had known you for years and had plenty of time to take notice of all these little things no one else would. Because she always had a soft spot for you, but you were in a long-term relationship for most of the time you’d known her, and she would never be one to overstep any boundaries.

“I just felt hurt thinking I may be falling for someone who only sees me as another person to mess around with,” you told her, taking note of how gentle her eyes were in this moment. She felt awful that she had hurt you, even unintentionally, and cursed herself for not being more aware and mindful. You weren’t committed to each other, but she still felt like she had made a mistake engaging in any kind of behavior that would make her feelings for you seem misguided.

“Y/N, I promise you how I interact with just about anyone else is entirely me in character,” she comforted. “I’m sorry for making you second guess that, but I’ve never felt realer emotions than I do with you. It’s like I can be me, just me. And I love that you make me feel that way.”

“I love when you’re just you, Rhea.”

“Then I’ll keep being just me, if I can start calling you just mine.”

Rhea was undoubtedly nervous asking you so boldly, but she was so damn happy to do so. She was staring at you hopefully, looking happier than you’d seen her since her WrestleMania win. And you were just as happy, not even realizing you had gotten to the hotel and had been parked for a minute or two now. Your entire focus was on her, eyes filled with adoration while she waited for your answer.

“I’ve basically been yours, I just needed you to be mine,” you beamed.

“I’m yours, love,” Rhea affirmed. “You are so damn beautiful.”

You wanted to instinctively look away, still feeling flustered even after the months of flirting and now technically being in a defined relationship. But Rhea knew you too well and gripped your chin before you could do so, keeping your face towards hers. Neither of you could get rid of the smiles you wore, too overwhelmed with happiness and adoration and love.

“Can I kiss you?” Rhea asked, eyes darting from your own to your lips. You nodded, and that was all it took for her to be all over you. Her lips melted into your own, and everything felt so right. Each time you pulled away, you were reconnected within seconds, physically unable to keep apart, both of you awaiting this moment for too long. You felt her smiling into the kiss, which in turn made you smile, and then you were two smiling, giggly messes. Finally, she pulled away for good (but not without one final peck) and laughed when she saw you pouting. She opened her door and made her way to yours hastily, scooping you out of your seat before you could even react. Then, you were pinned against the car with your legs around her waist.

“I’ll take you to your room?” she offered, placing feathery kisses along your jaw.

“My room?”

She laughed at how offended you sounded. “Our room?”

“Mhmm,” you confirmed. “You’re not getting away from me now, Ripley.”

You unhooked your legs from her waist and she carefully released her hold, allowing you to plant your feet back onto the solid ground. She followed you to the back of the car, popping open the trunk; you leaned forward to reach your bag, and Rhea - sly as ever - took this opportunity to smack your ass, only light enough to be a tease. Once you’d grabbed your bag and stood straight up, she was smirking, all too aware of her actions.

“Now why would I want to get away from you, baby?”

From then on, you both knew you’d be stuck with each other, practically inseparable and surely obnoxiously in love around all your friends - which they didn’t really mind, because seeing you so happy together was more than worth it. Rhea made sure to tone down her persona a bit out of respect for you, even though you reassured her you didn’t mind too much now knowing she was yours at the end of the day. Still, you couldn’t deny that you were more elated to scroll through your socials and see videos of interactions between you and Rhea rather than her and anyone else; and it definitely helped that she loved letting the cameras know you were hers.

#rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x you #wwe imagine #wrestling imagine #Wrestling Fanfic #WWE Fanfic #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe fluff #rhea ripley imagine

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mediumgayitalian · 4 days

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fic rec friday 17

hi!! welcome to fic rec friday. every week, i pick five fics i have bookmarked and rec them with a little review. check them out!

Drew Tanaka's True Love Connections by @buoyantsaturn

Will smiled. "I have an appointment next door with the, uh… Matchmaker lady?” He winced at his own awkwardness, trying to bite back the embarrassment he felt. “Well, actually my friend set it up for me, but-- Sorry, do you know anything about her? The matchmaker lady, not my friend, I mean. I’m just not sure what to expect, you know? I’ve never, uh, done something like this before.”

THIS WAS SO SICK I LOVED IT!!!!!! flowershop au with a twist oh yes ma’am. also im so pumped drew was in this every time i see her im like hello my love how are you

2. just desserts by @thegoldenappleofdiscord

It’s just a cupcake, Nico reminds himself. Surely that justifies breaking into the infirmary at the break of dawn. or: nico's love language is baking and will solace gets a lot of cake as a result.

end note hate me GIGGGGLIIING. also i am OBSESSED with this author but i haven’t read the solangelo book yet so i haven’t read a lot of her stuff and i’m DYING to. this was as sweet as nico's baking fr!! i'm writing less of a note on this fic (altho i love it) bc the WORDS i have to say about the next one,,,

3. caught in the river of tears that i cried by @thegoldenappleofdiscord*

In all honesty, it was really for the best that Will didn’t think about all the strange things that sometimes happened around him. After all, his mama had more than enough on her plate already. He was a good kid, and it was best everything stayed as it were. (Though admittedly, the flock of flesh-eating maniac pigeons, men with hooves, and the growing darkness in his veins might just make this a tiny bit more difficult than he anticipated) or: will can only push down a part of him for so long (will has plague powers, but he's known it from the very start.)

UPDATE WHEN UPDATE WHEN UPDATE WHEN REESE PLEASE 😭😭i am genuinely so obsessed with this fic and the WAY everything is woven together....like fear is a driving force!! you can feel it!! this is one of those starred fics fr bc it Changed the way i wrote and characterized will. he is fr a character who has been controlled by fear his Whole life actually. of the world and what it takes from him. of the Fates that do not care for your fragile love. of the things they are forced to do. of the precarity of life. and perhaps most intimately and ardently Himself, and the abilities he does not want to have, the life he does not want to live. the parts of himself that do not fit in the mold he has Built for himself and Forced himself into. and this fic shows that so so beautifully like this story is Woven.....i think about it literally all the time it's insane

4. a handful of almosts by @thegoldenappleofdiscord

He’d said it so easily: “Best friends don’t do that to each other, Will.” It had been a throwaway comment after Will decimated him in a card game, which was usually Nico’s forte. Following that had been a furious, “Besides, it’s war. Entirely luck-based. Winning this game doesn’t mean anything. Stop laughing – why the hell are you laughing?” He’d mostly been laughing because of Nico’s expression – eyebrows drawn tight, mouth twisted in an adorable scowl – but also because of the sudden elation pumped into him like helium. They were best friends – and maybe someone else would be hopeful for more, and maybe one day he'll pursue it (he did want it, had wanted it for a long time) but for now, he’s content where they are, sitting in Nico’s room and cursing at each other through a deck of cards. or: 5+1 of will solace being a pining loser

A HANDFUL OF ALMOSTS!!! WHAT!!! every once and a while u just hit a title that Hits u u know. like a handful of almosts. yeah. what a deeply poignant and tragic thing. how fitting for the pjoverse, a universe of people who are haunted by their almosts. god. and then to turn around and make this story FLUFFY?? MAKE IT THE CUTEST THING IN THE WORLD??? "will solace and his rose coloured glasses" REESE!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!

5. Damage Control by @nikkira

“I couldn’t save Lee. I couldn’t save Michael. I couldn’t save Silena.” “You saved Annabeth when she was stabbed, right? And Annabeth was kind of imperative to the whole saving the world effort. The people you save go on to do things and help people and save people. When you lose someone, you lose them. But when you save someone, you save a dozen more people.”

"i dream of the people i could not save. they're mad at me." oh i am UNWELL. ill i tell you. i read this line and had to sit down for a little while like actually. one thing about will solace is that he never stops punishing himself and no one got that like this fic nine years ago

thank you for joining me this friday!! happy reading!!

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neytiriism · 1 year

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۰࿐·˚ ༘ 𓆛 YOU’RE HIS PEACE ۰࿐·˚ ༘ 𓆛

featuring. neteyam + lo’ak (separate)

gn!na’vi!reader.

wc. 746

author’s note. I love avatar and I loved atwow so why not write something for my faves🤷🏾‍♀️<33 reblogs + feedback are appreciated!!

NETEYAM

as the oldest, neteyam is always under so much pressure. the poor boy couldn’t catch a break. whether it be from looking after his younger siblings (mostly lo’ak) or living up to his father’s expectations, he always has some kind of weight on his shoulders. he’s meant to be the responsible one, the strong one, the leader but, he can’t always be that way. it’s impossible. he needs to be able to let loose and just be normal, even if it’s just for a little while. that’s why he seeks you out as much as he can, no matter where you are or what you’re doing.

you’re the only thing keeping him together. you’re like the calm in the middle of his storm. you see him. you see into him. you know his struggles and his pain so he doesn’t need to be this strong guy when he’s with you. he can let his guard down. you make neteyam feel safe and every time he’s with you feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. he feels free.

when neteyam got back to the village, his first order of business was to find you. he had a particularly rough day dealing with his brother and he needed you to calm him down. he found you quickly, you were always easy for him to find. his eyes were always drawn to you no matter where you were.

“y/n!” he called as he ran up to you.

your ears perked up at the sound of his voice. “netey- oh!” you yelped.

neteyam had scooped you up in his arms, squeezing you around your waist as he spun you around. “i missed you.” he mumbled into your chest.

you smiled and patted his head. “i missed you too, nete. now put me down.”

neteyam lightly placed on the ground but his hands never left your hips. he pulled you in until your foreheads were touching and looked at you with loving eyes.

“what has gotten into you?” you asked. “i haven’t seen you this happy since you rode an ikran for the first time.”

neteyam smiled and squeezed your hips lightly. “I just love being with you.”

you leaned up to kiss his lips and in that moment he felt all of his stress melt away. he was at peace.

LO'AK

lo’ak is a problem child. he knows this. he’s the rebel, the troublemaker, the outcast. and his father of course doesn’t let him forget it. whether it be after a raid or even just getting into trouble with other na’vi, his father always lets him know how angry and disappointed he is in him. always telling him off and comparing him to his older brother, it feels like it’s never-ending. and there’s only so much lo’ak can handle before he wants to blow up at everyone. so when he starts to feel that way is when he goes to find you.

you were the only one that made him feel like he was good enough, the only one that made him feel like he belonged. you always uplifted him and encouraged him no matter what because you knew that he had a good heart. sometimes you didn’t even need to speak for him to feel better. you were his comfort, his home.

lo’ak stormed away from his family’s hut wanting no more than to be away from his father for a while. he was tired of the ridicule, he just couldn’t deal with it that day so he set out to find you.

it didn’t take him long to spot you under a tree near the beach, carving some new beads for your hair. you looked so calm, so happy, that’s what he needed right now.

“lo’ak!” you said happily. “how are you?”

he doesn’t say anything as he walks up to you. he only sits down next to you and pulls you into his lap, resting his head on your chest. your heartbeat soothes him, it brings him peace.

“lo’ak?” you ask.

no response. he only tightens his grip around your waist and nuzzles further into your chest.

“lo’ak what is wrong? did something happen?”

“don’t worry about that. just be here with me please.” he whispers.

you sigh and wrap your arms around him, softly running your fingers through his hair and down his back. he lets out a soft sigh of contentment at the sensation, wishing he could stay like this with you forever.

#neteyam x reader #lo’ak x reader #neteyam sully #lo’ak sully #avatar x reader #atwow #avatar way of water #atwow x reader #neteyam headcanons #lo’ak headcannons #avatar fanfiction #neteyam fluff #lo’ak fluff #avatar james cameron #avatar headcanons #lo’ak avatar #neteyam avatar #࿐·˚ ༘ neytiriism🐚

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desert-fern · 9 months

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A Gun Amongst Daggers - Jake “Hangman” Seresin X Fem!Navy Seal Reader

Part 19: ‘Cause You’re The Reason Love Comes Easy

Summary: When Jake meets a woman at the Hard Deck, the last thing he expects is for her to be a Navy Seal. And not just any Seal, the Commander of Seal Team 3. She’s beautiful, smart, dangerous, and everything about her just makes him want to get close. Her name? Bear. When the Seals need backup, Cyclone puts the Daggers on their radar and now, Jake has to work with Bear and her team, all the while trying to stay professional. Can he do it? Or will he end up falling for the Navy sniper and mission Commander?

A/N: Chapter title is from the song Nights Like This by St. Lundi

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE! 18+ ONLY. MINORS & BLOGS WITH NO AGE/EMPTY BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Warnings: a little hurt/comfort, flirty Jake (yes that is a warning), it’s mostly fluff this week, but lmk if I missed anything

Word Count: 5.0k

Masterlist >> Part 18 >> Part 20

===

The recovery from the pain inflicted was long and arduous, and there were days where Bear was 10 seconds away from just saying ‘fuck it’ and quitting. But Jake was always there, offering both a steady presence and a shoulder for her to cry on in the midst of her frustration. He never judged her, and despite everything she did to try and push him away from her so that Jake, her Jake, didn’t see her like this, he wouldn’t budge from her side.

“Why are you still next to me?” She had asked him, eyes welling with tears as she struggled to take in another deep breath. “Why haven’t you given up on me?” Her voice was cracking under the strain it took her to try and draw a full breath and the weight of her feelings of failure. Walking for longer than an hour was too much of a strain on her lungs, and forget running. Her lungs burned at the thought and she was so close to bursting into tears, if only she could catch her breath.

It broke Jake’s heart to see her this way, this insanely strong woman reduced down to the foundation of her character, sitting amongst the rubble that was her life. He loved her. Every fiber of his being was drawn to her, had been since they had met, and now, watching her struggle physically hurt. “I haven’t given up because I love you,” he replied, wiping her tears away. “Because you went through all of this because of me, so I am here. And I will be here until you tell me to leave.”

Bear had nodded, grimacing as she took his offered hand and grunted when Jake pulled her to her feet. “I would do it again.” Her eyes were full of the same conviction that was clear in her voice, and Jake could help but smile sadly.

“In a perfect world darlin’, none o’ this would’ve happened,” he told her, holding her close, savoring her nearness in the privacy of the gym at 0200. “We’d already be together, you would kick my ass all the time and I’d love you more for it. Maybe we’d be on a date right now,” he mused aloud, smiling at his thoughts.

“Yeah? Where would you take me?” Bear glanced up, catching the tenderness shining in the green eyes above her. She could feel the love radiating from Jake, could feel it just as she felt the warmth of his body against hers, felt his arms wrapped around her waist and lower back.

Jake hummed, smiling at Bear. “You can never go wrong with the classics right? Movie then dinner, maybe a walk if we weren’t ready for the night to end just yet. That sound about right?” His heart hammered in his chest, just hoping he hadn’t read her wrong. “Maybe I’d kiss you for the first time too?”

But he hadn’t and if Jake hadn’t been holding her up, Bear’s legs might have given out on her. “It sounds perfect,” she admitted, grinning up at him. A hand wound its way up to cup the back of Jake’s head, pulling him close. “I love it. Definitely would have won you some points, Flyboy.” Bear knew that she had a wide grin on her face, mirroring the one Jake was giving her, and she couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him fiercely.

She felt Jake’s smile against her lips as he kissed her back, his arms tightening around her, like he feared she’d slip away from him if he didn’t keep her close. But unfortunately, the tight hold shot pain up her ribs, making Bear gasp, teeth coming down hard on his bottom lip. “Shit! I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” Jake had immediately loosened his hold and would have completely stepped away if Bear didn’t place her hand on his jaw, steadying him and keeping him close.

“Jake, honey I’m okay. I promise,” Bear assured him gently. “Are you okay?”

He nodded, but Jake didn’t look convinced. “Yeah.”

But his eyes were looking everywhere, falling on everything but her eyes. “Honey…” she trailed off when she caught sight of the tears on his cheeks and the evident pain rippling in the green eyes Bear had come to adore. “Talk to me.”

Jake swallowed thickly, chewing on the inside of his cheek. He still wasn’t meeting her gaze. “You don’t need to deal with this. You have enough to work through.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to suffer in silence,” Bear’s tone was adamant, full of barely contained anger and softened considerably when she gently turned his face to look at her. “Jake, please. You’ve been here for me for a while now. Let me be there for you too.”

“I-I’m both relieved and terrified that you’re here,” he whispered, ducking his head to stare at the Navy logo on the sweaty t-shirt Bear wore. “I don’t want you to leave me. I don’t think I could handle that again.”

Bear closed her eyes against the onslaught of emotion that slammed into her as she listened to his confessed words. “I fought to come back to you,” she told him softly. “I hope you know that, Jake. I thought about you the whole time they had me. I crawled into the memories of us while all of this,” she gestured up and down her body, “went on. I love you too much to let you go ever again.”

He chuckled, the sound wet but it was a chuckle nonetheless. “I know you love me. Those were the first words you said to me when you woke up, I never doubted that for a second.”

“Good.” Bear paused, taking the time to cradle his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs over his stubble-covered cheeks. When he leaned into her touch, she smiled, pressing a barely-there kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Because out of everything that happened, that is the most important thing. Not what happened to me. Not what that son of a bitch did. None of it. Just that we were finally ready to confess our love. Okay?” She held his gaze, eyes firm but glimmering with kindness and love for the man that had wrapped himself around her.

“Okay,” Jake finally replied, his voice hoarse and eyes so full of love that it was a miracle Bear was still standing. “But you have to admit darlin’, I did a damn fine job beatin’ him up.” His drawl was thicker now from the emotion waltzing through his head and heart, and Bear had never heard anything better.

She grinned, and it looked like a shark’s, all toothy and wide. “You did, Honey. You gave him the beating I wanted to give him but couldn’t.” Pressing a quick kiss to his nose, Bear’s smile softened considerably. “You are my… everything, Jake. Remember that.”

Jake took a shuddering breath, burying his face in her neck as he held her close. He had waited so long for a mere confirmation that the depth of Bear’s feelings matched his, and now? Now it felt like he could see the light through the darkness that had surrounded them both. He felt unstoppable, something he hadn’t felt since before he had met the woman in his arms. “God, I really can’t win, can I? I said I’d love you through it all, and here you are, promisin’ me your everythin’.”

Her answering words fell on his deafened ears as Jake just let himself savor the feeling of Bear in his arms. “You’re my everything too,” he mumbled into her shoulder.

“I know,” Bear murmured, running a hand up and down his back. “God forbid I ever forget that.”

Jake pulled back, catching the glimmer in her eyes as she watched him. His heart always beat like crazy when he was around her, so afraid of ruining this little piece of solitude for themselves. Right now? Now it was calm, knowing deep down, even if his brain didn’t, that Bear was just as much his as he was hers. Being around her now, being held by her, was a balm for a wound he didn’t know existed, a candle in darkness. Bear was his salvation. “I know you won’t. Because I never plan on being away from you long enough for you to forget.”

His words pulled Bear from the depths of her mind, forcing her to inhale sharply. She had been so worried for him, for how she had affected him, that she never stopped moving long enough to realize how much he had affected every piece of her. ‘Bewitched her body and soul’ as Jane Austen had once written, and heaven help the person that ever tried to break them apart. “Jake…” she breathed. “You smooth fucker.”

A boyish grin shot back in her direction made her shake her head. “Gotta keep you on your toes huh, Teddy?”

“Doesn’t mean you need to pull the rug out from under me everytime,” Bear shot back, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Well how else am I gonna justify this?” She looked confused until she found herself up in his arms, bridal style in a sudden swoop. “You’re a serious lady, Teddy. Someone’s gotta make sure you have fun sometimes.” His smirk set butterflies racing through her stomach and all Bear could do in that moment was smack his chest and laugh when he stumbled back in feigned pain.

“Tease,” she replied, laughing. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Hmm…” Jake pretended to think, as he carried her down the deserted halls. “Take me to bed and love me forever?”

Bear smacked him again, giggling. “Well considering that I am having trouble walking for longer than an hour, and we can forget about running, the first option isn’t really an option right now.”

“Shame,” Jake replied, lowering his voice to a near growl, the Southern drawl more prominent than it had ever been. It made him grin when he felt the shiver that raced down Bear’s spine, his chuckle sounding from deep within his chest. “Seems I have plans for later then.”

“Asshole,” Bear grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest, trying to will her blush away. “Why do I put up with you?”

Jake hummed. “Because I’m your everything and you love me?”

“Yeah. I did say that.”

===

Somehow, through the banter and teasing, Jake managed to carry her back down the halls to her room without being seen. Which was a feat in and of itself because Jake kept making Bear laugh, her giggles bouncing off the walls in a sharp turn around from how she had been feeling earlier that night. “Jake,” Bear whispered, eyes shining with mirth. “Just put me down.”

“Nope. Not until we are in your room.”

“Come on, someone could be coming around the corner at any time.” Bear was almost pleading, but it wasn’t in a bad way. She really just wanted to avoid more awkward questions from Bug about how Jake was affecting her. They had discussed at length Bear’s next steps while she was still recuperating in the medical bay, including talking through the email Bear would send to Admiral Harris informing him of her threat. He had merely replied with a meeting time, telling her that he wished to speak with her as soon as she was able. Bear wasn’t dumb enough to think it would be anything other than a recommendation that she take a leave from the Navy, maybe a session or two with a psychologist. The thought made her stomach lurch but that was for future Bear to deal with. Present Bear had to convince Jake to put her down. “Honey please.”

“Fine,” Jake grumbled, begrudgingly placing her feet back on the ground. But his hands shot out seconds later to catch her when Bear wobbled slightly. “I’m not judging if you need help, Teddy.”

“I know. But I need to learn to do this on my own. Those bastards won’t take my life away from me, Jake,” she told him, sending him a soft look. “But I appreciate you helping me.” She pushed her door open, motioning for him to follow her.

And he did. Because if there was any word to describe Jake near Bear, it was soft. Bear brought out a gentler side of him, which was strange, given how he’d nearly beaten a man to death for her, but that was besides the point. “It’s not a problem. You’d do the same for me.” Jake had flicked the light on after he’d shut the door, allowing him to see the room he had grown accustomed to over the last few weeks. “Besides, it means I get to spend more time with you.”

She smiled at him, tossing him the sweatpants he’d tucked under her bag the morning before, and laughing as they hit his chest and landed on the floor. “Come on Flyboy, you already have me. You don’t need to keep using the lines,” Bear teased, as she rifled around for her own pyjamas.

“But what if I like using the lines?” Jake tossed back, swiftly changing out of the uniform he’d been wearing for most of the day and into the sweats that now lay on the floor. “You blush such a pretty pink when I do.” He was shamelessly checking her out now as Bear stepped out of her basketball shorts and into her sleep shorts.

True to his words, Bear’s face was hot and a brilliant pink. “Shut it,” she grumbled, clearly embarrassed by her reaction. She had been struggling with her shirt for the last few weeks, finding it hard to lift her arms over her head. “A little help?” She asked, turning around to face Jake. “This fucking shirt is clinging to me.”

Jake grinned, stepping closer. “Well now, we can’t have that, can we? That’s my job.” He was teasing her again, unable to resist the joy it brought him to see her fumble over her words.

“Jerk.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately.” Bear was smiling at him again, her whole being seeming softer in the yellow light of the desk lamp Jake had turned on. “Now can you please help me with my shirt?”

His hands pulled her closer by her hips, before slowly slipping under the hem of her compression shirt. Jake took special care to guide her right arm out through the sleeve first before moving to the injured left side, pressing a gentle kiss to each shoulder as the material was removed. “You okay?” He asked, grabbing the oversized t-shirt that she slept in.

“I’m fine Jake,” Bear told him in exasperation. “I just want to sleep. My everything hurts.” Her eyes flickered over the furrow of Jake’s brow, before slowly lifting her tired arm up to smooth away the creases. “I promise I’d tell you if you hurt me.”

Standing before him half-clothed made her stomach swoop and Bear bit her lip as her shirt slipped over her head, gentle hands guiding it down her body. Jake’s touch left a trail of goosebumps in their wake and she shook her head at him, placing a hand on his bare chest to stop his movements. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Jake told her, resting his hand over hers. “I don’t think I've ever been better.” He leaned down, capturing her lips with his own, grinning against her lips.

Bear sighed into the kiss, eyes fluttering closed at the mere press of his mouth on hers. She nearly whimpered when he pulled back, chasing his lips to kiss him again. “It’s late,” she whispered. “Come on Flyboy.”

He followed her lead, letting her settle into the bed before slipping in after her, curling almost protectively around her as they lay facing one another. “You’ve got me stuck, Teddy. Ain’t never wanted to stay stuck on something ‘til I met you,” Jake mumbled, shuffling closer and pulling her to him. He’d rolled over at some point, letting Bear mold herself to his side as she rested her head on his broad chest, his hand combing through her loose hair absentmindedly.

“You sap.” Bear cuddled closer to Jake, reveling in the warmth that just radiated off of him. “But you’re lucky I love saps.”

Jake hummed low in his throat, grinning as he felt Bear smile at the vibration rippling under her ear. In the darkness of her room, Jake let himself mumble “I did get lucky. You gave me a second glance.”

And if he drifted off first, leaving Bear to swallow back the lump in her throat, she wouldn’t tell a soul. He loved her, and she loved him with a ferocity not unlike that in which she fought to return to him. “Of course I looked twice. I saw you,” Bear whispered into the darkness, sleep nipping at her heels and finally pulling her under its wake.

===

The next morning, Bear woke up with an arm slung over her waist, her back against something solid, and the feeling of someone breathing against the back of her neck. Her eyes had just blinked open, adjusting to the light in the room, and she shifted back, her head bonking into the one behind her. “Shit,” Bear whispered, turning slowly to face Jake. “God I hope I’m not hallucinating again. I can’t handle it if this isn’t real.”

“Hmmm?” Jake mumbled, pulling Bear closer and burying his head against her shoulder. “What time isssit?” In just a short breath, he’d dispelled every fear she’d had about waking up alone. Simply because she wasn’t alone, and Jake was here.

Bear grinned, running a hand through his blonde hair and messing it up even more as she watched his eyes flutter under her gesture. “Too damn early,” she whispered back.

“Then why’re you awake?”

“I don’t know.” Blame the Navy for making it so she could never sleep in, but if she woke up to this sight every morning, she’d gladly wake up early every morning. Jake’s hair was fluffy and askew, flattened on one side from the pillow, and standing on end on the other. It was enough to make Bear giggle quietly as she took in the sleepy smile he gave her as she continued to comb her fingers along his scalp, watching as he sunk deeper into the bed. “But I’m not mad about it.”

Fingers that had snuck up her shirt tightened their grip, pulling her even closer so their chests were pressed together. “Me…. Neither,” he yawned. Green eyes met brown and her heart soared at how a mere glance made it seem like everything was and would be okay. “You’re starin’, Teddy.”

“Can you blame me? You’re pretty in the morning.”

“Only in the mornin’?” His voice was a deep, rasping thing and it sent sparks racing through her blood. “Darlin’ don’t tease.”

“‘M not teasing,” Bear replied, a yawn nearly splitting her head in two.

“I think you are,” Jake shot back, a smirk wiping the sleepiness from his face. “You’re a real minx, Teddy, ya know that?” He’d rolled from his side to his back, chuckling at the gasp Bear let out at the position change now that she sat straddling his hips.

“Jake!”

“What? Always knew you’d be pretty from down here,” Jake continued, hands bracketing her hips, holding her still.

Bear was stuck in a state of shock at just how suddenly he’d moved her. How it had taken next to no effort for him to shift positions. “This fucking rib,” Bear thought angrily, “If it weren’t for this, we have have done something by now.” But she swallowed that thought and leaned down, bracing her hands on either side of his head. “Did you now? You think about that a lot, Flyboy?”

“Oh darlin’, if you only knew,” he answered honestly, watching the light flicker in her eyes that were oh so close. “There isn’t a day that goes by without me thinkin’ ‘bout you.”

Bear’s face went pink again. “Shut it.”

“Nope. And if I were a betting man, I’d wager that you do the same.”

“Confident, are we?” He was right, of course, but Jake didn’t need to know that.

He hummed in agreement, a hand leaving her hip to gently caress her cheek, pulling her down for a sweet kiss that had Bear sighing against his mouth. Everything about the kiss was lazy, no one fought for dominance, there was none. Just pure love filling both of them, slipping through their blood in a way that made two hearts sing as one. It was simple, and it was innocent, but it was just them. Just Bear and Jake savoring the moment of peace that they had.

Pulling back, Jake watched Bear’s eyes blink open, smiling at the brief haziness of them before she pressed another kiss to his mouth. “I heard what you said when you woke up, about hoping this wasn’t a dream.”

Her face fell, as the hazy memories of her hallucinations spun through her mind. The infection of her wounds had ravaged her body, creating delusions that included moments like this one, but those weren’t real. She’d woken up alone on the cold and dingy floor of a compound that was hundreds of miles from where Jake was with a sinking feeling in her chest.

This, however, couldn’t be more different. Jake was warm and solid under her, his calloused hand cupping her cheek and winding into her hair. She could feel the rise and fall of his bare chest under a hand that skated over the exposed skin. “You did?” She whispered, biting the inside of her cheek.

“I did.” Jake didn’t know what she had seen, what she had gone through, or what she had done to get back to him, but it didn’t matter to him. He was here and would continue to be there for her whether she chose to tell him what happened or not. “But,” he paused to press a kiss to her forehead, “I’m here. Ain’t leavin’ without a fight.”

Bear nodded, eyes welling up with tears at his silent understanding of her pain. “I know.”

“Come here, darlin’. I need to cuddle my girl.”

===

The only surprise that came while still in Riyadh was the announcement that Chip had confessed to working with Hazard. The man had come with her to save Jake, to bring him home, and he had betrayed them. Bear had been furious at Chip for not only throwing everything for his family away, but also for herself and Jake.

While he hadn’t been among her Lieutenants, she had still trusted the man. How could she not have? He had been loyal through everything, one of the few men who remembered their old CO and supported her in her bid to become the new Commander of Seal Team 3. It cut her deep, deeper than the still-healing gashes in her skin that would leave permanent reminders of the acts committed with stolen information. Permanent reminders of the betrayal that had rotted out the very soul of her team.

But worse still, was the news that Hazard had threatened Chip’s family, his wife and daughter, in order to gain his cooperation. He had been collateral damage, sought after only for his technical knowledge and then forced to keep silent lest Hazard alert the men that were supposedly watching his home and family.

All of it had hurt her.

While she was glad that some of the information had been deciphered and uncovered, Bear hated the results. It was all too much and she didn’t know how much more of it she could take.

If it weren’t for Jake beside her, Bear would have descended on Hazard herself and ripped him limb from limb, committing an action befalling her callsign to the highest degree. Bear would have killed him, but Jake was able to sway her with gentle words and promises that the violence unleashed would not help her healing, that it would only make her pain worse.

And god fucking damnit he was right. So Bear wrote and wrote, filling page after page with her angry thoughts before setting them alight and watching the ashes spiral away and be carried through the Arabian night air. In the end, Chip had tried to protect his family, but it had resulted in him betraying his team. The realization was stunning and Bear found herself hating Hazard for far more than just what he had done to her. She hated him for threatening a now guilty man’s family to get him to comply with their demands. Hated him for being able to pull the rug over her eyes so easily.

Bear hated that she hadn’t known about any of this.

But Jake. Sweet, gentle, compassionate Jake had stayed by her side the whole time, held and consoled her through her angry tears and listened quietly and patiently as she ranted and raved about how she should have known. He never once made her feel like she was to blame, refuting every claim of the sort that she dared try to make.

He put her back together over and over through nightmares and panic attacks and so gently too that Bear was always afraid that if she touched him, that he would disappear in a cloud of smoke. But he never did and she thanked him at every chance she got, returning the favor when his own nightmares threatened to steal her away in the dark of the night. Yet, just like Jake and his immovable love for her, Bear remained there, soothing his fears just as he had done with her own.

===

The days passed quickly. Bear was slowly gaining strength, only letting her weakness be seen by Jake, and refusing to even entertain the idea of taking back her position as team leader. What she had done, regardless if it was warranted or not, and she knew it was, her actions were enough to warrant removal from her position or possibly discharge from the Navy.

But that would be worked out later. For now, she and Jake were locked in yet another mindless conversation that they were both taking entirely too seriously for the subject matter. “No!” Jake yelled from the floor of the gym. “They are not the same bird!”

Bear just stared at him. “They look identical! Why can’t they be the same bird?” She was just saying these things to wind him up, and while that may not normally be the smartest thing to do, it was just too much fun to resist. “A dove is just a fancy pigeon.”

Jake groaned in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If they were the same, they’d have the same name! Just because one looks like the other doesn’t mean that-” he cut himself off, eyes narrowing at Bear, who was doing a terrible job at hiding her laughter. “You’re winding me up!”

“I’m sorry!” Bear wheezed out, having doubled over laughing after he’d called her out. “It’s too easy!”

Jake just shook his head, grinning. Bear was healing, laughing not causing her much pain anymore and the sight always made his heart swell. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Mmm,” she hummed. “I am.”

“Now who’s the sap?”

“Still you.” Bear watched him approach, kissing her gently. “Still always going to be you.”

Jake nodded. “Fair enough. I was meaning to ask. What are we?”

“What do you mean?” Bear asked, head tilting to the side. She had been under the impression that they were dating. Ever since she’d woken up, Bear had been calling him her boyfriend in her head, but if he didn’t… No, they needed to talk about that before she spiraled. “I thought that we were dating.”

“And I thought we weren’t quite there yet because of your job and how you’re still technically my boss.”

She nodded, heart sinking a little at his words. “Did you not… want us to be…?”

“No! I mean, yes! I mean… Yes, I want us to be together. But I thought that we were waiting until we were stateside for that,” Jake explained, eyes wide in panic at the thought of Bear even coming up with the idea that he didn’t want her.

Bear visibly sagged in relief. “I was worried,” she admitted. “I hoped that we were thinking the same thing but I didn’t want to assume.”

“We are, Teddy. I promise.” And Jake meant every word of that promise. Bear was everything to him. “Why don’t we put a pin in defining this for now? We can talk about it when the logistics aren’t so complicated, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good. God I love you, darlin’.”

“I love you too, Honey.”

===

Two days later, Bear was overseeing her team’s transit from Riyadh back to the Abraham Lincoln at Jebel Ali. She’d arrived first, relying on Bug back at the Air Base for her information and watched the Daggers land from her place in the ship’s bridge for the moment. Jake had hitched a ride in the same helicopter as her, and was down on the deck helping out Phoenix and Bob in securing their jet.

She watched his blonde hair get tossed around by the wind through the port and took a breath. “This would be a challenge,” she thought. “Getting through this journey home without being attached at the hip.” But if they had managed on the way here, they could manage on the way back. Of that, she was certain.

Only when all the Seals had landed and were disappearing below deck, Hazard being thrown in a special guarded area of the ship, did Bear leave the bridge, running smack into Jake amid the hustle and bustle. It was her first day back in her uniform since her capture and Jake couldn’t help but stare at how beautiful she looked. “I’d really like to kiss you,” he mumbled as he moved to step past her down the narrow hallway.

Bear grabbed his wrist, squeezing it lightly. “We can’t. I’m still your boss, Flyboy. Just a bit longer, and then we can give this a go, okay?”

He nodded, sending her a small smile before slipping off down the hallway to his quarters, leaving Bear to find her own.

God damn this would be a long trip home.

===

A/N: 🥹 I will admit that this was my face while writing this beast of a chapter. Bug, big thank you to @startrekfangirl2233 and @sarahsmi13s because I might have made one or two of them cry with this one. And I can’t forget @dakotakazansky for her help in ensuring that my underlying plot line is in place and still running strong.

Taglist: @horseshoegirl @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @lavenderbradshaw @roosterforme @bobby-r2d2-floyd @bradleybeachbabe @footprintsinthesxnd @twsssmlmaa @fandomxpreferences @dempy @gizmodear @fighterpilothoe @chaoticassidy @eli2447 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @djs8891 @rhirhikingston @sisterslytherinog @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @sgt-barnesveins @taytaylala12 @urmom-999 @formulapierre @pinkpantheris @havlindzk @a-beaverhausen @killcomet @buxkybarnez @topgunruinedme @hangmanscoming @smoothdogsgirl @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby

#fern writes #a gun amonst daggers #jake hangman seresin x reader #bear and hangman #jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #jake seresin imagine #top gun maverick x reader #jake seresin #Jake hangman fluff #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction #jake seresin series

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sillyblues · 1 year

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the ocean and the wind. (2)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ synopsis: tonowari is the ocean and ronal is the wind. where does it leave you?

ੈ✩‧₊˚ notes: hi! omg part 2 is finally here. ronal is so cute she's just emotionally constipated but with you here, i think she'll be more than fine. also i did not proofread this im just too excited and have no patience whatsoever aaaaa but lmk what you guys think! i love talking to you all!

part 1 ✩ part 2 (here!) ✩ part 3 ✩ part 4 ✩ part 5 ✩ part 6 ✩ part 7 (final part)

Ronal is like the calming wind that brushes your skin on a fine day.

You first met her in your Zeykoyu classes where you are trained in common knowledge of healing while you were still avoiding Tonowari. When you first came to the teaching area in the inner area of the island, your eyes were drawn to her figure despite your friends waving over to yours.

She was sitting on the back of her legs alone, eyes gazing at the flora and fauna of the surroundings. At your footsteps and the sound of the plants rustling, her eyes naturally caught up with yours and you found yourself smiling at her. She furrowed her skin above her eyes, glaring at you before she turned away. You blinked and frowned at this in confusion.

It was not long until the first lesson was over. While the Karyu spoke of plants and which can be used to heal or not, your head revolved around the girl who hated you at first sight. As the teacher ended the class and you all said your greetings, you watched the girl quietly leave without looking back at you and others.

One of your friends caught you staring at the girl and nudged your arm.

“Save yourself from being hurt and do not talk to Ronal.”

“What?” You were taken aback by the surprising comment she said and frowned, “That isn’t nice—”

“I mean you can if you want, but out of the goodness and care for you, don’t befriend her. You’ve been staring at her a lot, [Name]. A lot. You’re probably thinking about wanting to make friends with her,” She raised her forehead at you with her all-knowing gaze and mused, “I don’t know if you haven’t noticed yet, but she does not do friends. I wouldn’t be surprised if she hates everyone and wants to be alone more than anything. Didn’t she glare at you a while back?”

After a slight pause, you said, “She did, but we cannot just assume that. Maybe she just couldn’t see me clearly a while ago.” She definitely saw you clearly, but a part of you hoped she didn’t so it would explain why she made a face at you.

Your group of friends awkwardly laughed.

“You’re too nice. But trust us, we know. You are not the first one to befriend her first, after all.” One snorted.

“We tried to talk to Ronal, you know. She was silent, yes, there is nothing wrong with that. But each time we talk to her, there is always a frown on her face. We jokingly asked her why was she so mad at us and she actually got mad at us. Glared at us and everything as she asked why we befriended her then.” Your friend ranted, her face contorted, almost hissing in the bitter memory.

“If she hated being friends with us so much, then she could have told us in the first place! I got mad at what she said and she just stormed off. I should have been the one to storm off!”

She scoffed while your other friends laughed at the outburst of your short-tempered friend. As they console her with words and waved the past off, you were silent in your thoughts full of her.

When you first met her, her lone figure sat stiff and seemed so lonely her back slightly hunched and her head looking around just to not look at the other people of your clan. Her jaw was slightly clenched and her arms covered herself. An aura of grey was around her and her eyes were an ocean-filled blue of sadness.

Your friends told her that she loves being alone but why do you feel like she seems to hate being alone more than anything else?

The night approached fast and it was already late in the evening. You should be asleep by now as you save energy for a swim out tomorrow your father promised you. But you can’t.

How can you sleep when your thoughts are full of Tonowari? You saw him at the centre of your village as you talked and walked with your friends after your class, pushing Ronal to the back of your head. As you laughed, you felt a gaze on you and you raised your head to look at who was staring at you and shouldn’t have.

It was Tonowari. You saw his green eyes and your heart immediately felt heavy as the guilt comes flooding in, weighing it down to the pit of your stomach. It was just a second when you exchanged a glance, but to you, it felt like an hour.

You clenched your jaw and pinched your leg, immediately willing yourself to look away. To look away from the boy you once knew had grown up without you and would continue to grow without you. You force a smile back to your friends, pretending nothing was wrong, that you didn’t feel your walls and resolve crumbling down like sand from a single glimpse of him.

But, oh, Eywa.

He was still as beautiful as you the day you lost him.

You hoped that a walk would clear out your heavy mind and sneaked out of your pod. You had no destination in mind and allowed your feet to walk wherever your it would take you to. You dare not let your heart lead you for fear you might come back to your greed and selfishness.

You found yourself in the inner part of the island a bit farther from where you had your class. There was a small creek, its water crystal clear with tons of rock underneath it. Streaks of purple and blue swam through. Moss covered the rocks and roots of trees everywhere. The soft glow of the moon seeped through the leaves of trees and the bioluminescent plants sprinkled the area in hues of a thousand colours. Animals glimmered as they flew, ran, and swam about.

There, Ronal sat amongst the beauty of Eywa. You stared at her in awe.

She was sat on the edge of the rocks and her legs rested halfway in the water. The front of her hair was braided while the rest of her curly hair was let down onto her back and covered her chest. Dots across her body shined but it was quite dull than the markings of your parents’ and friends’ usual gleam, you noticed.

She was beautiful, you stare breathlessly.

You walked closer and let your presence be known to her. Her head snapped at yours and her tail raised slightly in alarm as she stood up.

“Oel ngati kameie,” You greeted her, bringing your fingers to your forehead and onto her, hoping to calm her down.

She stared at you warily but it was enough for you. “Oel ngati kameie. What are you doing here?” She immediately asked.

“Oh, I could not sleep so I thought walking around would help me.” You explained, deciding not to tell her why you could not sleep. You did not know if she notices but she did not pry. “May I sit beside you?”

She frowned.

“Alright,” She sighed. You smiled widely at that.

You sat beside her half a tail between you two.

“Eywa is beautiful, isn’t She?” You said, not really expecting a reply. You stared at the wonder that surrounds you both. Your toes were submerged in the water and you mindlessly moved your feet side by side. Your arms were by your side, slightly placed behind, supporting your upper body’s weight. There was silence, after that. It wasn’t awkward despite you had talked for the very first time. It was comfortable. Calming.

She was calming, you thought. This moment comforted you. But a thought crossed your head. Would after this moment, you and Ronal would go back to strangers? Would you not have a chance with her to appreciate Eywa’s beauty again in silence? Would you not have a chance to be beside her again?

You didn’t want this to remain a moment. You did not know why but there was a small pinch in your heart imagining that after this, you and she would never have a chance to be like this again.

You turned to her and suddenly introduced yourself and asked hers’ despite knowing her name already. She glanced at you and scoffed.

“I thought your friends told about me already?”

“Oh, you heard that?” You tilted your head to the side. “I’m sorry about them, I’m pretty sure they didn’t mean that.”

“Your voices were too loud. I could hear how they hated me.” Her voice was steady, like someone who was trying to be strong but you could hear how her voice became small towards the end. Her eyes were squinted and her ears were pulled back.

“I don’t think they hated you. I think they were just upset, but not hate.” You began slowly, “Did they do something wrong? They said you hated them, but I don’t think you do.”

She swiftly turned her head to look you in the eye. Her eyes widened and her ears stood up in surprise.

“They do not? How did you know?” You did not know if she was asking you if you knew how they did not hate you or how you knew she was never mad at you in the first place, but you answered her nonetheless.

“They’re too understanding and forgiving. Arguments between us have never lasted long because they understand and forgive each other quickly. They see each other. I think they want to see you too.” You smiled at her. “Besides, you look sad being around us. I’ve seen you take small glances before, you know.”

Her face immediately contorted but you notice the dark hue of her cheeks. You giggled. She let out a small snarl and looked away from you. You had an idea of why she had acted like that and made your friends think she hated them but you wanted to hear it from herself.

“Tell me and help me understand you. Help me understand them to understand you. Let me—us— see you.” You whispered to her and stared into those green eyes that once were full of sadness but now, had a glimmer of hope as she stared into yours as well.

“Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?”

“Does being your friend enough of a reason for you?”

“No, you are lying. You are doing this to hurt me, aren’t you? Embarrass me in front of others?” She stood up and hissed at you. Her face contorted in grief and disbelief that you would do that to her which you were in disbelief yourself because you know that you would never even dare to do that to her. “How dare you—”

You stood up as well and grabbed her shoulders. She tried to hit and push you away and you let her, but you did not let her go. “No! No, Ronal, I am not lying. I swear to Eywa.”

You leaned close to her and you pleaded with the Great Mother inside your head for her to believe you.

Oh, Eywa, you begged, Please help her see my innermost thoughts and the sincerity I have in my soul.

Please let her know everything of me.

Please let her see me.

You thank Eywa for hearing your prayers when you felt her shoulders sag in your hold and stopped struggling.

“I see you.” You leaned your forehead against hers.

She lets you see her.

Under the wide array of thousands of lights, she opened up to you like a flower. She told you of how she cannot express her emotions like the others.

She does not intend to come across as mean and bad to others but she cannot control how she contorts her face naturally, can she? She tried to be silent, hoping that she would not be able to say something that might hurt the others and say she did not mean to.

A long time ago when she was just a young girl, there was a friend of hers, a boy, who she had hurt the most. He most probably thought she was ignoring her and she once remembered him crying in front of her with hurt all over his face, saying how she could think of herself as better than everyone.

She was overwhelmed back then and she could not bring herself to open her mouth for fear that she would worsen things again. So she walked away. She came across his mother and saw her son crying behind her. She hissed at her before running to console her child.

She was hurt and and absolutely terrified. She ran back home and her parents found her almost crying as well.

The next day in the centre of the community, she found her parents and the boy’s parents arguing in front of the Olo’eyktan with the rest of the clan watching around.

You remember the day it happened, you and Tonowari were swimming in the sea, not caring what had happened. Your heart ached at the thought that while you enjoyed yourselves, she was alone hurt and lonely.

“Your child does nothing but hurt! Is this how you teach your child? Teach her to hurt and hurt others one after another?”

“You have no right to say that to my daughter. She does not intend to hurt anyone!”

“Then why does my son cry because of your child? Why do the other children cry because of her? Tell me!”

She remembered the words that were exchanged clearly.

She told you how she could not bear to watch it anymore and ran back to her pod. It scarred her forever that she dare not think about making friends with anyone anymore. Beings friends with her will only hurt others and herself, after all, that was what she believed.

Years later, your friends befriended her. After a long time of loneliness, she caved in too easily but never forget to let down her carelessness. She was grateful that they did not mind her silence and glares that she does not mean.

But when they joked around about her being mad at them, memories of the shame and guilt came rushing back. She did not mean to snap at them but panicked and asked them why had they befriended her. As usual, they took it the wrong way and she ran off before the fight would worsen.

“I thought this time would be different, [Name]. I thought it wouldn’t happen again and it’s all my fault.” She leaned against the crook of your neck and cried. Her sobs bring an ache to your heart like a strong grip that crushes it and you decided that you would never want to hear her cry again. You slowly moved back and forth as you hugged her, comforting her as she let out her emotions for the first time.

“This time will be different, Ronal.” You said, bringing her face in front of yours. You wiped away her tears and assured her. “I’m here for you.”

“I see you.”

The rest was a blur. You could not remember what time or how you got home nor what the Kayu spoke as he taught your group. Time went by fast and you stood there with Ronal and your group of friends. One stared at her warily while the others stared at her in curiosity.

Ronal frowned and you could feel her panic rising. You grabbed her hand and held it. You squeezed her hand and smiled softly at her. You saw the frown ease a bit and from then on, you let her do the talking.

It was not like you did not care what happens next. You kept an ear out for what they were saying and you were ready to intervene if needed, but you trusted Ronal and your friends enough.

You stared at the plants that surrounded you all and closed your eyes. The gentle breeze brushed against your skin, its freshness almost tickling you. It swayed softly, its whisper almost lulling you to sleep. You could hear the plants’ rustles and feel the air inside you as you inhaled and exhaled. Your hair fluttered from its soft sweeps and you let out a small hum.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I really thought you hated us.” You heard your friend say.

“No, it was reasonable that you thought of it that way. I am sorry for making you upset.” You opened your eyes at Ronal’s voice.

“No. Do not be sorry. Do not be sorry for things you cannot control.” Another said.

“But I am sorry—”

“I am going to cut you all because I know that this will end up with never-ending apologies.” Your sensible and rational friend said. You almost let out a giggle at how true it was. “We understand, Ronal. You cannot control your expressions and outburst that day and our friend cannot control hers as well. We ended that day in a bad situation and I know that we all feel sorry for it.”

“We see you, Ronal.”

“Yeah, we see you! Thank you for telling us because if you hadn’t, we would live the rest of our lives thing you completely hate us and wonder what we did wrong.”

“I see you all, as well.” Her jaw was clenched, trying her best not to frown or glare at them as she straightened her back. Her face did not look mean compared to before, but if you had not known better, you would think that she was annoyed at you all. But you and the others knew better, she was most likely overwhelmed by the positive outcome. You squeezed her hand once more.

The group told you both that they will go out first and leave you two be, knowing that Ronal needed her space and perhaps talk to you.

When you two could not see their figures anymore, you turned to her and smiled so widely. You slightly raised her hands that you held. “I am so happy for you!”

You were so happy for her. Proud, even, because you could not imagine how much courage she must have taken to talk with others again, much less befriend others herself, but she did it.

She stared at your eyes and you let go of your hand to fondle your face. The ends of her lips raised so slightly you didn’t would notice it had you not been this close to her. Her markings shone and its glow was brighter than the last time. She leaned her forehead against yours and you could feel her soft breaths on your lips.

She introduced herself to you and you are reminded of how she never introduced herself properly last night. You say yours.

“I see you, [Name].” She says.

“I see you, Ronal.”

“Thank you for seeing me. Thank you.” She whispers breathlessly. You squeezed her hand for the third time.

Like the wind on a fine day, she is calming. Like its breeze that brushes against your skin, her caresses on you are soft. Like its freshness, her presence fills you with coolness just enough to soothe. Like its whisper, her voice comforts you and almost lulls you to sleep.

Like the wind, Ronal is calming.

series taglist: @totesnothere04

#blue writes! ✧˖*°࿐#avatar the way of water #avatar #ronal x you #ronal x reader #ronal x y/n #tonowari #ronal #tonowari x you #tonowari x reader #atwow angst #atwow

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yandere-daydreams · 2 years

Text

Title: Cornered on Both Sides.

Commissioned by the very lovely @letstalktea.

Pairing: Yandere!Tweels x Reader (TWST).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: A/B/O Dynamics, Aged-Up Characters, Marking/Biting, Possessive Behavior, Non-Consensual Touching, and Isolation.

The worst thing about being with the Leech twins was absolutely, without a doubt in your mind, that someone had been cruel enough to make two of them.

That was it, really, even if you were willing to admit that it was a little redundant to be disappointed that twins happened to come in pairs. You didn’t like being around either one of them, but you could handle Floyd and Jade in small doses, nights spent in the backrooms of dark restaurants with Jade and Floyd’s hour-long temper tantrums and fuck, even the tense, slow minutes it took for them to trade-off, for Floyd to whine and grumble as he drops you off at one of Jade’s favorite, underground lounges or for Jade to smile and nip the corner of your jaw before he shoves you into Floyd’s open arms. You could handle that. You didn't like it - there wasn't a single part of your current ‘relationship’ that you can honestly say you enjoyed – but you could handle it. You could deal with it. You knew how to deal with them, individually.

But, when they were together? When Jade had to keep up his oh-so-cold, oh-so-cruel reputation? When Floyd had someone to bounce his sadism of off who wasn't the soft, vulnerable thing he’d chosen to inflict it onto? When you disn't have one selfish, possessive alpha to keep happy and docile, but two?

You… weren’t as good at that, even if you knew you really, really ought to be, by now.

Already, you were starting to curse yourself out, to dig your nails into your palms and grit your teeth as you wondered what you’d ever done to deserve the situation you were currently in. You hadn’t expected them to be home so early, to come back to the penthouse they seemed less-than-content to share. You weren’t sure who it really belonged to, or why they bothered living together at all (save for the fact that it meant they’d have easier access to you, of course, but you didn’t want to think of the relationship you had with them as something real enough have such an influence on their lives), but it was where they’d brought you the night you’d met them, where Jade had so politely asked you to sit pretty and stay when neither one of them had time to wear you on their arms. You weren’t sure what happened to your old apartment, if they’d ever actually done something with it. It might still be there, untouched and rotting, months of rent left unpaid and your former landlord ‘convinced’ not to care. You didn’t want to know, if was.

You were drawn out of your thoughts by a long, airy groan, a body so much bigger than yours collapsing beside you, stringing long arms over the back of the leather couch and letting his legs fall open – utterly unbothered, utterly thoughtless. “Cuttlefish’s being so quiet,” He droned, and you knew it was Floyd before you looked up. Jade would never come to you like this, not when he knew he could bide his time and force you to go to him. “Is it ‘cause you know you did something bad?”

“I’m not—” You cut yourself off, biting down on the side of your tongue. No one ever said you couldn’t leave on your own, and you hadn’t made it very far – just to the building’s lobby. Floyd had caught you at the main door, clicking his tongue and throwing you over his shoulder despite your hushed, whispered pleas not to make a scene. Jade had only reappeared once you’d made it back to the penthouse, his smile tight and his eyes void of all light. He hadn’t said anything to you, opting not to waste any time before dragging Floyd into another room for a private conversation, but you knew he was mad. He had to be. It’d be a miracle if he wasn’t planning to skin you alive, if not worse.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” You mumbled, too defensive, too guilty. “I didn’t get to do anything.”

He threw his head back, letting out a deep, melodic laugh. You grimaced, shrunk into yourself, but he was quick to correct you, to snake an arm around your waist and drag you into his side. You tried to turn away, to twist yourself out of his hold, but he only caught your chin, tilting your head back and driving his thumb into your jaw until you knew better than to look at anything that wasn't him. Even then, he took a second to let you go; a long, languid grin stretching at the corners of his lips as his hand drifted from your jaw to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer until your cheek was pressed against his chest and he could tower over you properly. “Cuttlefish’s mad tonight, too,” He drawled, amusement heavy in his voice. “Jade’s gonna be angry, but I don’t really mind that you tried to run away. It’d be sorta fun to chase you around for a while – y’know, like most alphas get to with their pretty little omegas.”

“That’s an awful joke,” You muttered, planting your hands on his shoulders in a weak, admittedly half-hearted effort to push him away. This close, you couldn’t do anything to block out his pheromones – waves of woody cedar and sea salt rolling off of him in waves. His scent was identical to his brother’s, but there were undertones to it that Jade lacked, notes of freshly dyed leather and sharp, metallic copper. It had a way of getting under your skin, glazing over your thoughts and making everything that much harder than it would’ve been, if they were kind enough to give you room to breathe. It would’ve been worse if you were actually mated, if they’d had a chance to mark as theirs so officially, but luckily, they were too petty and too possessive to decide which one of them would get to drive their fangs into your neck, and you'd been able to avoid provoking either one of them, so far. It was one of the only benefits of having the attention of two unwanted alphas, rather than one. Sometimes, they were too busy starting fights with each other to actually pay attention to you. “I… I really don’t want to do this, right now. Can you just—”

A hand at your side, a sharp tug to your midriff. He didn’t let you finish, didn’t give you a chance to protest before dragging you into his lap. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, taking long seconds to inhale your scent, to ghost the pointed tips of his teeth over your throat and soak in the way your breath hitched, how quickly you went rigid in his arms. It was more fear than excitement, but Floyd couldn't seem to tell the difference, only laughing as his chin came to rest on the dip of your shoulder. “I wanna try it. Maybe when Jade’s distracted, or next time we’re alone together. We’ll sneak off for a while, find somewhere nice and dark where I can—”

“That’s enough, Floyd.”

Immediately, your heart went still in your chest, and every ounce of warmth drained out of you in an instant. The terror was sudden, fresh, as vivid as it was sickening, but any shock you might’ve felt was distant, too familiar to really catch you off-guard.

You knew you’d have to deal with Jade, eventually.

Honestly, you could only be thankful you’d managed to put it off for this long.

He must’ve been at work - whatever ‘work’ was. You didn’t know what he did, but you recognized the ash-grey suit he was wearing, the way he’d slicked his hair back, the expression he wore when he was getting ready to deal with one of the unruly, uncooperative clients he’d tell you about in little, murmured nothings when you were curled up in his bed, vulnerable and exposed. His lips were pursed, his eyes vaguely narrowed, more annoyed than anything else. Still, that was enough. He wasn’t like Floyd. You weren’t supposed to know when he felt irritated, or pleased, or nothing at all. The fact that you could tell something, anything about his mood was damning, all on its own.

He didn’t say anything, just settling into place next to his brother, crossing his legs and casting you a vague, blank look. You melted into Floyd, absent-mindedly clutching at his shirt, but that wasn’t enough to save you – with a flick of Jade’s wrist, Floyd was groaning, shoving you off of his lap and into the cramped, non-existent space between them. You did what you could to go stiff, to make yourself as small and as unassuming as possible, but your leg pressed against Jade’s and Floyd’s arm was still wrapped around your waist, his finger drumming idly against your hip. You tried to shift, to get as far from them as you were able to, but Jade’s hand came to rest on your thigh and you froze, bowing your head and shutting your eyes. You could take risks with Floyd. You knew him, trusted that he’d do whatever he wanted to regardless of how you spoke or behaved. Jade wouldn’t be so satisfied with your indifference.

“Darling,” He started, his tone as flat and as cold as his stare. “Floyd tells me that you’ve had quite the day.”

You really meant to say something that’d help you. Something smart, or apologetic, or pathetic enough to prove you couldn’t get away from them, even if you genuinely tried. But, as soon as you opened your mouth, you faltered, cracked, and what spilled out was beyond your control. “Y-you never said I couldn’t leave,” You managed, and then, before you could think better of it, “I just wanted to go outside, and nobody was home, and I was going to come back, I just—”

“And, you tried to leave. Without telling either of us beforehand, at that.” Blunt nails dug into your thigh, a tight smile spreading across his lips. “That should be enough on its own.”

You started to say something, then stopped, biting down on the inside of your cheek. “I’m sorry.”

He sighed – the breathy, labored kind of sigh, like it took all the strength in the world to watch you curl into yourself beside him. Floyd, for his part, didn’t go to such lengths to hide his delight, humming softly as he leaned into you, nuzzling into your neck. “I don’t think cuttlefish meant to get into trouble.” It was benign, on the surface, but you doubted Floyd was consciously coming to your defense. For whatever reason, the grin pressing into your throat did little to inspire any hope that he’d chosen to actually help you, for once. “All that shakin’ and screamin’… You should’ve seen it, Jade. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so scared.”

“It’s not that they're in trouble,” Jade corrected, mercifully choosing to ignore the rest of Floyd’s description. His eyes flickered to his brother before falling back to you, a hand coming up to cup your cheek. He didn’t have to draw blood or drag you into place – it was enough to still feel his eyes boring into you, to see the way his smile quirked as you allowed him to tilt your head back, to force you to meet his steady gaze. Floyd, never one to share his brother’s patience, tightened his hold around you, jerking you backward and into his chest, until your legs had been pulled onto the couch’s seats and you were facing Jade entirely. He hesitated, but nodded approvingly, seemingly satisfied to have your full attention. “You know what you are, don’t you?”

You swallowed, dryly. He’d asked you the same question a thousand times, and he always expected the same answer. “An omega.”

“And you know how dangerous it is for someone like you to be out there, all alone, totally unprotected, right?”

“I wasn’t going to talk to anyone.” It was only dangerous because of alphas like them, but saying as much out loud would only earn you a harsher punishment, a few weeks stripped of all the meager freedoms you’d been allowed to hold onto. “I didn’t even really make it outside. I was just—”

“And you know what we’d have to do if we found out someone tried to hurt you?”

Something very sharp and very slow began to crawl up your throat. “I know, Jade.”

“Perfect. Then, you have to know how much we’re willing to do to keep you safe, too.” He squeezed your chin playfully, his smile taking on a teasing lull. “You’re our precious omega, and there are so, so many alphas out there who’d absolutely love to take a bite out of you. I can’t imagine what Floyd and I would do if you got hurt because we weren’t there to protect you.”

His voice was softened, calmed into something too soothing and too measured not to send a cold bolt of dread down the length of your spine. None of it was true, obviously. If either of them really wanted to ‘protect’ you, Floyd wouldn’t leave your lips bruised when he kissed you, Jade wouldn’t speak so fondly of wrapping a collar around your neck and locking you in some tiny, dark cage that only he had the key to. It wasn’t true, but that didn’t matter, not when Jade was staring you down and Floyd was starting to lose interest in your conversation - finding more entertainment in the lingering, open-mouthed kisses he was pressing into the side of your neck. Unnervingly close to where your mating mark would’ve been, if you had one.

“I… I understand.” Jade’s stare grew easier, his smile taking on a more genuine air, and you let yourself relax. This might be all he wanted. You, humiliated and reminded of your place beneath him, but otherwise unharmed. It wasn’t what you wanted, but it was preferable compared to what you knew Jade could do to you, if he felt you deserved it. “Thanks for looking out for me. I won’t be so reckless again.”

You felt Floyd’s grin sharpen. He pulled back, just far enough to nip at the corner of your jaw, and Jade leaned towards you, cupping your face, holding you in place as his lips brushed against your forehead. “Oh, dear,” He muttered, half under his breath. “You won’t, because we aren’t going to let you.”

You laughed, the noise tentative and stilted. Floyd chuckled, but Jade’s smile only widened. “But, I’m already not allowed to—”

“Clearly, we’ve been too lenient.” He barely even acknowledged you, drawing back and pushing himself to his feet. You tried to follow him, to get up and ask him what you meant, but Floyd was already on top of you, already shoving you onto your chest with all the effort it would've taken him to pluck a petal off of a flower or crush an insect under his heel. In a fraction of a second, he was straddling your thighs, his teeth tearing into the dip of your shoulder as his hands slipped under the hem of your shirt. You cried out, but the sound was muffled by leather and fabric, and neither twin seemed to mind, to bat an eye at any indication of your pain. You weren’t sure why you thought they would.

It wasn't like they’d never hesitated to hurt you, before.

It was a small mercy that Floyd’s attention was such a fickle thing, that he was so quick to draw back, to lap over the open wound as blood began to pool above your torn skin. “I’m afraid it’d just be too dangerous to let you continue on unclaimed,” He went on, faux-sympathy, heavy in his voice. “For the sake of your comfort, we’ve been trying to hold ourselves back, but I’m afraid you’ve made that impossible.”

Lies, Lies, lies. “B-but, I didn’t do any—”

“Cuttlefish tastes so sweet,” Floyd purred, barely lifting his head high enough to speak. He was grinding against you, now, totally unbothered, totally unconcerned. Somehow, that hurt more than Jade’s betrayal, than the awareness of what they planned to do to you. Floyd wasn’t supposed to be this invasive, this controlling. Floyd was supposed to care about you – or, that’s what you’d managed to convince yourself, at least. “Gonna be even sweeter as a real omega, too," And then, as if it'd just occurred to him, "With a proper heat and everything.”

You grit your teeth, forced yourself to jerk towards Jade. “So what?” You spat, no longer trying to clip your words or watch your tone. It wasn’t like they could do anything worse to you. “You’re just— You’re just going to stand there and to let him mark me?"

“Today, he will. And in a few months, when it begins to fade, I’ll have my time with you. Floyd was a little put-off at first, but he came around to the idea after I offered him the first turn.” He squared his shoulders, lowering himself onto one knee in front of you. His hand found its way back to your face, the pad of his thumb running along your lower lip, and something came over his expression – a look that wasn’t totally unlike the kind of quiet, tempered affection you knew he couldn’t be capable of. “You should count yourself lucky. My brother and I aren’t especially good at sharing, but we’re willing to make an exception for you. That’s sweet of us, isn’t it?”

You opened your mouth, ready to curse him out, to scream, but anything you might’ve said was drowned out by a cracked whimper as Floyd bit into your shoulder, again, then the nape of your neck, missing your mating-glands by a hair's width. He was playing with you, marking you – albeit, not the way he would, in a few minutes. You went stiff, unresponsive, but it didn’t help. Nothing would’ve helped, at that point.

“We’re doing this for your own good,” Jade mumbled, despite the excitement tracing at the edges of his tone, despite the awful, darkened glint now shining brightly and unabashedly in his eyes. “It’ll hurt, but just try to remember that. We’re only doing this because we love you.”

You could only close your eyes, grit your teeth, and wonder what you’d ever done to deserve to be trapped between them.

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javierpena-inatacvest · 9 months

Note

I feel like 27 would fit with Javi eating osita for as long as they could, pretty please 🙏

RAHHHHHHH Omfg okay y'all are making me FERAL 😭🥵 I kind of changed it a little bit, I hope that's okay!!!

Not Yet

Summary: There's few things Javi likes more than seeing you all worked up (this is porn w not plot I am not sorry)

Word Count: 660 (Who am I?)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), praise kink, teasing, kind of dom-ish Javi (???)

A/N: I CAN'T STOP WITH THESE REQUESTS YOU GUYS ARE MAKING ME CLAW AT THE WALLS!!!! Okay this will probably be the last one for tonight this was much needed after the long ass day I had

Can be read alone or as part of the Never Too Late Series

Part of the 500 Followers Celebration requests!!

“Javi, pleaseeee…” You whimpered, your voice trembling as Javi placed another painfully slow kiss on the inside of your thigh. He had been at this for over 10 minutes, doing nothing but running his hands along you, peppering every inch of your body with hot, wet kisses as you laid spread out beneath him. At this point, you were writhing under him, desperate for him to do anything besides tease you the way he was, leaving you feverishly worked up and craving him. This had been the first time that you were desperate for Javier Peña to stop kissing you, and put his hands and mouth to work elsewhere.

But you knew that was exactly what he wanted.

If there was anything you wanted, in or out of the bedroom, Javi would do his best to give it to you without a second thought. But there were times like these where seeing just how badly you needed him made him absolutely feral. Something about the way he knew he was the only one who made you feel like this did something to him, and every once in a while, he just couldn’t help but play into it.

He sat back on his knees, a smirk growing on his face as he took every inch of you in- Your sweet moans, the soft curves of your naked body, the way that he hadn’t even touched you yet and the slick pooling in between your legs was drenching your thighs, the fact that you were his. Javi soaked it all in for one more moment, ready to give in to what you had been begging for, but not before just a little more fun.

“Hmmmm, but I think I like having you spread out like this. Such a gorgeous sight. Haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already soaked. Need to take a moment to look at the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, all wet, just for me.” He tutted, making you grasp at the bed sheets as your head shot up at him.

“Javiiiii, for the love of GOD, will you just touch me?” You whined, growing impatient with how drawn out Javi’s antics had become. Suddenly, he leaned over you, grabbing both your hands, holding you by the wrists above your head as he sucked at your pulse point, rasping into your ear.

“That’s no way to ask for what you want, Osita. Ask nicely and maybe I’ll give it to you.” His voice was low and husk, making you shutter as he held you in place, caging his chest against yours.

“Please…” You moaned as he nipped at your ear, grinning as he pulled away.

“Please, what? Be a good girl and use your manners for me.” If you weren’t so desperate, you would have slapped that damn smirk off his face for how badly he had been torturing you, but you would be lying if said that this man’s words did something to you in a way that made you even wetter than the drenched mess you already were.

“Please Javi, I need you to touch me, fuck me, anything, I need you so bad.” You whimpered as felt one of his hands free, pressing his palm against your skin as it slid down your body.

“There you go, sweet girl. Don’t worry, hermosa, I’ll give you everything you need baby.” His second hand followed his first, snaking along the softness of your skin, shifting himself so his arms hooked beneath your legs, his face inches away from your dripping heat. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your cunt, pausing for a moment before lifting his head back up to look at you, a devilish grin growing across his face. “I’ll give you whatever you want, pretty girl, because who’s pussy is this?”

“It’s yours Javi. Fuck, it’s all yours.” You whined as his fingers grasped into the meat of your tights, your jaw going slack as you gave you a quick wink before dipping his head between your legs.

“You’re fucking right, it is.”

Taglist: @cool-iguana@rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85@partyofone3413@harriedandharassed

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geekforhorror · 11 months

Note

Hello there! It’s me again :p How have you been? Are you eating? Drinking water? Taking breaks? Taking care of yourself? YOU BETTER! Cause I care about you <3

I was wondering. I hope you’re ok with this. But I was wondering if Anakin and Y/N were doing the nasty tango if you know what I mean ☺️ and Either one of them says the safe word. Like lightsaber or something. I don’t know maybe it could be there first time doing it with each other and one of them panics and the other provides aftercare! (Which is very important) :3

I HOPE YOU’RE DOING WELL!! Sorry for any misspelling in there! （＾∇＾）

thank u for another request love it makes me so happy <333

tender loving care

pairing: rots!anakin x fem!reader

warning(s): SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), make out session, fingering (fem!receiving), slight p in v sex, mention of a safe word, fluff, pet names, aftercare, and ani being the best bf ever!

word count: 1.9k

You and Anakin had been dating for more than a few months now and until this very moment, you had been very timid with expressing exactly what you wanted when it came to physical intimacy. Sure the two of you had given each other head and sloppy hand jobs out on multiple occasions, but not actual sex with each other. Tonight was different. The mood in the room had created an opportunity for you to passionately kiss Anakin on the lips which is how you ended up on his soft mattress right now. Anakin places his body on top of yours while peppering hasty kisses on your neck.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this baby?” Anakin asks you in between kisses.

“Yes Ani… I’ve waited so long for this. For you.” you pant.

Anakin swore he was going to cum on the spot when he heard you say those words. He felt his blood rush straight to his now erect cock and he didn’t even care. All he wanted right now was you in more ways than one. Snapping out of his wet thoughts, he was focused on how eager you were for him to pleasure you like he never had before.

“Good girl,” he says. He then gets off of you and takes his soft bed robe off of himself, revealing his toned physique, which you couldn’t help but look at. Your eyes are also drawn to the massive hard on in his black boxers, causing you to get extremely turned on.

Anakin finally gets back on the bed in the original position he was in minutes prior, now towering over you and you felt the warm anticipation growing between your thighs. He starts to slide his gloved hand up the hem of your dress before he reaches the wet area that had clouded your lace panties. “My girl is so wet for me, huh?” he asks, sounding intrigued since he had done barely anything to you yet. You feel too embarrassed to give him a verbal response, so you just nod your head in silence. He starts rubbing away at your clothed heat that was already a bit sensitive, causing you to let out a whiny sigh. Anakin notices the sound that had escaped your pretty lips and immediately chuckles at it. His fingers seem to have found your clit and he immediately presses down on it before flicking it up with his skillful fingers. You bite your lip at his actions and squirm underneath his touch.

“Need you so bad, Ani… Need you inside me,” you whine.

“Patience, my love. I’m just going to stretch you out a bit so that it won’t hurt as much,” he starts. Shit. You were screwed. You just knew he was going to be big when he said that. “That ok with you my love?”

“Yes Ani,” you say truthfully.

With that, he slides his fingers underneath your waistband before pulling them off of you, letting them hit the cold floor. He pulls the hem of your skirt up to your abdomen, revealing your bare cunt to him.

“Such a pretty pussy and it’s all mine,” he coos. Maker, why did he have to be so hot with his words? You weren’t complaining though.

He drags his index finger and middle finger over the soft flesh of your glistening cunt before you feel them enter you without any warning from him. “Mhmmm… My girls so tight around me and I haven’t even fucked her yet,” he groans. “Let’s fix that, shall we?”

He manages to find your sweet spot by curling his gloved fingers deeper inside you, bringing you pleasure while doing so. He knew your body so well after countless sessions of finger fucking you until you were a moaning mess for him and only him. He rubs that so called “sweet spot” and your only response was a loud and needy moan. He fucking loved it.

He adds a third finger which creates a slight stinging sensation, but how could you care when he was three fingers deep inside your aching cunt, making you feel so good? He picks up the pace of his motions and you swear tears were threatening to spill from your eyes.

“Fuck… Anakin…” you let out, whimpering more than ever.

“Yes sweetheart?” he asks.

“ ‘M so close…” you say to him.

He chuckles at your answer while continuing to circle his fingers inside you. He was in heaven.

“Cum around my fingers then… Always feels so good when you do,” Anakin says encouragingly.

He thrusts his fingers a few more times before your spongey walls spasm around his skillful fingers, causing you to splash your release all over his gloves in shame. He slowly brings his hand up to his face before inserting his drenched fingers into his mouth, now tasting every last drop of your sweet release.

“Mmm.. Tastes so fucking good, darling… Always do,” he praises while you were seeing stars.

After making sure a single drop didn’t go to waste, he moves his hands toward your hips before grabbing at the fabric of your dress. He slowly slides the dress over your head as you lift your arms to allow the dress to successfully get off of your body. When the dress finally hit the floor which allowed Anakin take in your figure, he was wasn’t expecting you to not be wearing a bra underneath. Your nipples were met with cold air, making them harder along with Anakin’s cock.

“Maker, you’re going to be the death of me,” he says sensually.

He drags his mouth over one of your sensitive nipples and starts sucking away at it like it was second nature for him. His warm mouth was a big contrast to the cold air that your nipple was exposed to and you can’t help but revel in the warm sensation. “Just like that, Ani…” you say in a lustful voice, making him suck harder. He pulls his mouth away from your nipple before going to suck on the other one just as hard. You once again wince at the gratifying sensation, which just boosts his ego even more.

“Ani?” you ask in between a gasp.

“Yes darling?”

“I- I want you to fuck me” you say without shame.

“Are you sure baby?” he asks.

“I’ve wanted you for so long to the point where I need you now,” you admit, making him smile lovingly at you.

“If you want me to stop at all, just say your safe word and I will stop right away,” he coos. You nod at his affirmations which makes him smile. “Do you remember your safe word, my love?” he asks gently.

“It’s lightsaber,” you say confidently.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises. He wastes no time taking off his boxers before throwing them to the ground with the other garments that had littered the once tidy floor. Just as you expected, he was huge.

“I’m going to slide the tip in first and just tell me how it feels, okay sweetheart?” he says to you, trying to make you feel as comfortable as possible. You had slept with other people, but it was meaningless looking back at it because you didn’t love them as much as you loved your sweet boy. Your relationship with him was more than special and you wanted to have sex with him when you felt ready to get back in the game. He made you feel special and that’s what you were to him in his eyes.

“I- I want your entire cock, Ani. Not just the tip,” you say breathily. Anakin was taken aback by your words and didn’t know what to say at first. He hated to admit that his ego had grown with your words, but it was true.

“Whatever you want darling is yours,” he replies with a toothy smile. He then lines his cock accordingly with your warm entrance before you give him a nod, indicating that you were ready. He pushes into your needy cunt and he swears he’s going to pass away at the feeling of it. You gasp at the sensation of his cock hugging your cervix, but it later subsides into a gasp of pleasure. Anakin bottoms out and slowly starts to move inside you. You wanted more.

“Faster Ani, please,” you beg of him.

“Are you sure?” he asks you.

“I can take it,” you reply with a faint smile plastered on your face.

He complies with your request and instantly thrusts harder into you, causing you to grab at his gorgeous locks to provide some balance and out of pleasure, of course. He loves the feeling of it and it only harshens his pace. You can feel everything inch of him as he’s pounding in you mercilessly.

“Fuck, Ani…” you moan as the sound of skin hitting skin fills the room.

“Maker, you’re taking me so well… just like I knew you would,” he says in between thrusts. One thrust in particular has you clawing at his back and you knew he loved it. He then hits a spot you didn’t know existed which makes you a complete moaning mess.

“That’s my fucking girl,” he grunts into your ear.

All of a sudden, the sensation became too much for you to handle and became painful as he continued to slam into your loose hole. You felt like your heart was racing at what seemed to be 10,000 beats per second. You had never felt this way during sex before. It felt like you couldn’t breathe. You realize that Anakin’s still inside you and you knew you had to call it out.

“Lightsaber!” you yell out, making Anakin stop and pull out instantly.

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s wrong, baby?” he says concerned.

“It was t- too much, Ani. I thought I could do it, but I couldn’t,” you say in between breaths.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” he says before wrapping his arms around you in a hug. You let yourself fall into his arms as he caresses your hair in comfort.

“I’m sorry Anakin,” you say with disappointment evident in your shaky voice.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, my love,” he assures you, his voice sounding more soothe than ever. “I’m glad you let me know,” he continues.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yes, really,” he says with that smile you love so much.

“I love you, Anakin,” you say full of adoration.

“I love you too, darling. More than you’ll ever know,” he says before pulling in for a kiss which you accepted. Your guys’ lips move against each other’s in unison and it feels like everything in the galaxy is moving slower because of the passion fueling it. After a few lingering seconds, he slowly pulls away which breaks the kiss.

“Just know I would wait a million years for you if necessary,” he says.

“You’re such a dork, Ani,” you tease.

“So I’m a dork for loving an amazing girl like you? Ouch,” he says sarcastically, knowing that you’re completely joking. You laugh at his response and you can see the joy in his eyes from being around you.

“Let’s go run you a bath,” he suggests before offering his hand to you. You accept his hand before he leads you into the bathroom, ready to treat you like a queen.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #star wars anakin #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin fluff #hayden christensen #anakin star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars #revenge of the sith

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wambsgansshoelaces · 6 months

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Turmoil; Chapter 2

Roman Roy x Reader

slowburn romantic drama

a/n: I’m so glad you guys love this as much as I do!! kisses, enjoy x

Word Count: 2.313k

The Waystar building is daunting. It makes you queasy- not because of the architecture, but because of the people in it. You’re in Kendall’s office, his blinds drawn shut. You’ve been pacing for so long you think you’re going to wear a hole in the floor. Roman lounges on an armchair, his legs hanging over one of the armrests.

“You need to tell me everything you know about your father’s criminal history. It’s the only way out. Throw him in jail before he can do it to me. And then he’s rendered unfit to run Waystar and it goes to Kendall.”

Roman is playing with a tennis ball, tossing and catching it methodically. “He took Kendall out the will and replaced him with Marcia.”

Kendall sinks in his chair. “You could’ve told me that earlier.”

“Anyway, we all know my dad’s 100% a criminal. He just has so much money there’s practically no witnesses nor any evidence,” Roman continues. “We have to catch him with his pants down.”

“But in the act of what? We can’t just watch him 24/7/365. It’s not feasible,” you reply.

“Okay, do you have any better ideas?”

“We bait him. Is it unethical? Probably. But I think we’re all past that.”

Kendall gets up and goes to stare out the window overlooking the city. “You think maybe he’s laundered money?”

“What do you think he had to clean the money from?”

“Prostitutes,” Roman says confidently.

“That’s not illegal, genius.”

“Where’s your imagination, Y/N?”

You continue your pacing. “Let’s go down the list. Tax evasion? He wouldn’t go to jail for that.”

“Even if he did, he’d be evading an entire $2 in taxes. The bracket distribution is fucked,” Roman points out. “He covered up Connor’s property fraud. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

“It would be if we had concrete proof. Connor’s never going to testify and tell the truth, and I doubt we can find whoever he paid to forge the deed.”

Kendall shrugs. “I’ll try anyway.”

“We could try to get a confession,” you say. “But if he had a crazy enough attorney, it might not hold up in court.”

Roman rolls onto his side, staring at you. There’s no way that can be comfortable. “Why not?”

“It’s the twenty first century, Roman. He can claim that it was AI generated using his voice from speeches posted online. The only way it’d work is if he confessed on the stand.”

He throws you a dirty look. “Quit shitting on my ideas.”

“It wasn’t your idea. Plus, I’m just doing what any attorney with a brain would do,” you retort. “Your dad clearly has the money. He’ll probably find someone who’s thirty times the lawyer I am.”

“You’ll be fine,” Kendall assures you.

A knock on the office door interrupts your erratic pacing. Kendall opens it, allowing Siobhan to storm in. “He knows,” is all she says.

“Good afternoon,” Roman drawls in response.

“Congrats on your engagement party,” she snaps back.

“Party?” you ask.

“Your father in law is throwing you an engagement party in Norway.” She gives your arm a squeeze. “And I have to go.”

“Aww, I love you too, Siobhan,” you say sarcastically.

“It’s nothing against you. And call me Shiv. We’re friends.” She throws herself onto the couch. “I’m supposed to meet with a bunch of people here so that they can start digging. But not if I’m in Norway.”

“I can-”

“Your attendance is required as well, Kendall.”

“…Is Greg’s?” he asks. Shiv’s face splits into a small smile.

“I think he’ll forget about Greg. But none of us can ask him.” She turns to you. “Y/N?”

“I don’t even know who Greg is.”

“He works here. You can’t miss him, he looks like an egg,” Roman supplies.

Shiv nods. “He’ll have people start digging while we’re abroad, we get a head start without him being able to cover anything up.”

“We still haven’t figured out what to do about Marcia’s being the heir,” Roman says, going back to sitting lopsidedly on the chair and tossing his tennis ball.

“Vote of no confidence, I guess. Who’re the board members?” you ask.

“Me, Roman, Gerri, Frank, Karl, my dad, and five other partners. And you, now, I think.” Kendall sits back down, then gets back up, only to sit back down again.

“Do you think we can swing the votes our way?”

“How?” Kendall drops his face into his hands.

“He needs to do something dumb in public,” Roman says. “I dunno, like be racist.”

“Is he…?” You look incredulously at Roman.

“Probably.”

”We can’t bank on him probably being racist. Members of the board, vote him out, he maybe hates foreigners.” You sigh. “I need a break. I’m going to go get sweets or something.”

“Bring me back a cheesecake and I’ll kiss you,” Shiv replies.

“Back off, Shiv. That’s my fiancé,” Roman says sarcastically.

“Kendall?” You ignore Roman, still lounging on the armchair.

“Um, a cupcake? Chocolate?”

“I’ll be quick.” You make your way through the office bullpen before Roman catches up to you.

“Hey, wait. You didn’t ask what I wanted,” he says, walking backwards in front of you.

“Good job, you noticed!” you say bitterly. He rolls his eyes.

“Let me come with you?”

“Will you be quiet?”

“No.”

“Then also no.”

You wait for an elevator with Roman right at your side. “You’re a jerk. We’re supposed to be a team.”

“You’re the one who’s made it clear that there’s no ‘we’ in any situation.”

“What, you want us to be exclusive? Can’t get any more exclusive than engaged, and you that’s what we are, baby.”

☾𖤓

Later that day, you’re in your office at your firm. After you and Roman had gone back to Waystar, you’d gotten a call from your assistant saying that someone was at her desk demanding to see you. You’d weaseled your way to your office and asked her to send whoever it is in.

Connor comes storming in, the girl he was with at the party awkwardly in tow. “We want a lawsuit.”

“Hello, Connor, I’m doing fine, thanks for asking!”

“My girlfriend, Willa, and I are staying at a hotel while our house in the country gets renovated.” Without asking, he sits in one of the chairs in front of your desk. Willa stands silently behind him. “I took took our valuables from home and gave them to the staff, who said they’d hold them in the hotel vault and keep them safe. We went back last night and, lo and behold, everything’s been stolen.”

You stare at him blankly. “You’re wasting my time, Connor.”

“I’m being serious,” he exclaims dramatically. “Her diamonds and gold were taken, along with my best watches.”

You sigh. “I’ll have one of my associates take this. This is an easy suit, Connor.”

“You’re going to do it.”

You get up from your desk. “Why, pray tell, would I do that?”

“Because I have leverage. And I need the best on the case. This has to go through.”

“Excuse my language, but a fucking toddler could win this. It’s negligence- innkeeper’s law. They put your stuff in their vault, it got stolen, they’re liable. Case closed.”

You try leaving, but Connor’s immediately up and blocking your way. “No. You’re doing it, or I tell the papers.”

You scoff. “Fucking fine. Do you have pictures of everything that was stolen?” Connor smiles, satisfied with himself. “Images from the companies you bought the junk from is fine. Have it on my desk with your hotel reservations by tomorrow. I’m not going to spend too much time on this.”

He blocks your way again. “Thank you.”

“Bye,” you say, gesturing your office door. After Connor leaves, Willa shuffling behind him, Roman takes his place, collapsing into a chair. “When’d you get here?”

“Like ten minutes ago. Connor was stomping around like a toddler. What’d he want?”

“A bunch of stuff got stolen while he’s staying at the hotel. He wants to file a lawsuit through me.”

“He’s trying to waste your time,” Roman says matter-of-factly. “He knows the four of us are gunning for Dad, and by proxy, him, because Dad is the one protecting his ass.”

“What does Connor own that would be damaged by Logan leaving?”

“He’s a shareholder. If you oust Dad, he probably goes too, just to save face.” He kicks his feet up onto your desk. “And he’s just annoying like that. You know he pays that girl to be with him?”

You wince. You don’t want to think about that. “Why are you here?”

“I can’t come visit my fiancé?”

“No.”

“Too bad. Waystar’s hosting a charity dinner tonight. Or, technically, we are.”

“We?”

“Our first public apparence together. Isn’t it romantic?”

You pinch the bridge of your nose. You don’t have the mental capacity for this. “Okay. Do you know what you’re wearing?”

“Same thing I always wear. Dress pants and slacks.” He gets to his feet. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, anyway. It’s just a bunch of corporate wannabes kissing my ass so that they can move up in the company.”

“Because your ego needs it.”

You manage to go home and change before Roman picks you up. Rather, the driver does. Both of you sit wordlessly in the back, until he tells you, “You look nice all dolled up.”

“I don’t look nice usually?”

“That’s not what I- never mind.”

Feeling bad, you glance at him. “You look nice, too.”

When you pull up at the venue, Roman scoots until he’s pressed up against the door and takes your hand, pulling you against him before opening the door and stepping out with you behind him.

The paparazzi is as aggressive as always, and you know you’re getting sick of it. When you’re both safely inside, he lets go of your hand. “I’m gonna go drink an excessive amount and pass out behind a curtain.”

You watch him wind into the crowd. You hope he’s joking.

Roman was right, earlier. This wasn’t the sort of charity dinner where people actually donate to charity- this was purely social.

You find Shiv by herself in a corner and join her. “I fucking hate these,” she tells you. “They could at least pretend to be here for a noble cause.”

You two spend the half hour before dinner chatting among yourselves in the corner. You thankfully veer away from talking about work and the clusterfuck that you’ve gotten yourselves into and instead idly discuss anyone and everyone you both see.

When you’re called to be seated for dinner, you peer at the the seating chart indicating that Shiv’s on your left with Roman on your right. You and Shiv take your seats, Roman nowhere to be seen. 10, 20 minutes pass.

“This is normal for him,” she tells you, in between bites. “He’s probably blackout drunk somewhere.”

“In public?”

She nods.

Once dinner is over, the crowd goes back to mingling. Shiv has to step away to talk to some client of hers, and while she’s gone, someone taps on your shoulder.

“You’re a pretty face I haven’t seen before.” It’s an old man. A very old man.

You try to just ignore him, making your way to the refreshment table and plucking a chocolate from a tray. He follows you anyway.

“What’s your name? What do you do at Waystar?”

You give him a dirty look and continue your inspection of the refreshments.

“You’re a feisty one, then?” He laughs, and it makes your skin crawl. “I like a challenge.”

You give him another look and round the table. “I have much better wine at my place. Much better than the garbage they serve here. Much.”

He follows you despite your pretending like he doesn’t exist. “I can tell you’d be a good time.”

Before you can do something rash, a warm hand goes to sit on your hip, grounding you. You smell his cologne before you realize it’s him.

“Figures you don’t know how to take no for an answer with all the whining you do to me for a promotion.” Roman pulls you flush against him. “Are you trying to fuck my girl?” Before the man can say anything, Roman interrupts. “The answer is no. And there’s also no showing your face here, or at Waystar, ever again. I’ve been looking for a reason to fire you. You were never an asset.”

He scuttles off, and Roman slumps against you, arm still hooked around your waist. “Are you drunk?” you ask him.

“Very,” he responds.

“I think it’s past your bedtime,” you tell him. “Can we go home?”

Arrangements had been made for you and Roman to start living together in a cozy apartment secluded from the rest of the city. You weren’t mad about it, really. You just hope Roman isn’t a slob.

“Tell what’s-his-face to pull the car up. I’m going to puke in my shoes.”

When you’ve sat down, Roman sets his head in your lap and stretches out along the back seat.

“How much did you have to drink?” you ask stiffly.

“Lots and lots.” He presses his face into your stomach. “Before we left, I had a lovely conversation with my dad. Told me how much of a fuck up I was, how you’re the only right decision I’ve ever made. And it’s not even true. I didn’t want this.”

You give his shoulder an awkward rub. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry you’re involved in this. I should’ve known, way back then.”

“The worst part is, Y/N, as much as I try to hate you and blame you for this shit show, I can’t. You’re innocent. You’re a damn good lawyer that was just doing her job. And it pisses me off that you’re so fucking pretty, because I can’t have you, but I want you so bad.”

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