#i don’t want to delude myself into thinking i have it in the bag | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

usedtobeadragonflygirl · 2 years

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I met her in sixth grade over the matter of a Famous Five book and soon perceived her to be very rude and volatile. Don’t judge me, I was 11. I guess I got smitten with her eventually, she read like me, she listened to my kind of music, you know the usual same-bestie-stuff. Mostly though she intrigued me because she was nothing like the friends I always had before, I read a lot then, still do, she seemed as if she had stepped out of a novel and me being a passionate reader may have gotten myself attached.

Stuff happened, hugely my fault, and it’s seventh grade and we don’t talk anymore. She seemed fine but I was tearing myself apart and it hurt like hell because it seemed as if she didn’t care at all. Do you know how that feels like? I was only 12. I started getting obsessed with her. I wanted to hate her but couldn’t. See? I still cared. I liked her. And it seemed that she didn’t. And I hated that I cared. It wasn’t fair. That I was breaking and she was perfectly fine with it. That she moved on and gave up on us so easily when it was something that I had come to treasure. She had forgotten so easily. It’s hard being an angst ridden teenager when your brain is not developed enough for you to think rationally. I think a lot of adults forget that.

We go on our separate ways but it’s hard not to interact when you see each other in the same classroom everyday. And my obsession didn’t stop regardless of new books nor new friends. The corner of my eye always alert on wherever she was in the classroom, calculating the time staring at the clock on the wall predicting whether she’ll come to school in another 30 mins or not at all, whether she seems happy with her new friends, her grades rising, recognising her handwriting on test papers, her laugh across the room, memorising her index number, counting the tables until 17 to see whether her seat is closer to mine when we have exams and all the chairs are spread out, wincing when she got scolded for being late with no letter from a parent, watching her get scolded by the prefects for not having a bow on her head, searching for her tall figure in morning assembly, watching her green school bag on her back disappear as she walked away from the bridge after school. Hell, I was embarrassingly obsessed, I even kept extra maps or graph papers knowing that she’d forget the next day even if we weren’t on talking terms.

When we clashed it was harsh, cruel even but now it’s mostly embarrassing to think about so I will spare you the details. Communicating by sending pieces of paper around the class and ignoring each other when face to face. It was immature. But we were kids. We become a ‘thing’ in the classroom, a reputation to seem as if we hate each other which I believed was true since I thought she didn’t give a shit about me at all.

Whenever any of those tiny things happened in school, when I got back home I’d write pages and pages of it in detail in a blue diary with a cute elephant sticker on the front, so terrified that I would forget them in future, it could be a minute occurrence such as holding eye contact with her for five seconds or her arm brushing against mine and I’d still start a new page with the date of that day. I didn’t know why I was so obsessed and why I was so scared that I’d forget if I didn’t write it down. And all those pieces of paper I collected and kept in a floral patterned box which I named a Keep Sake Box not knowing the meaning of the name.

Eighth grade, I have fully deluded myself to believe that she looks down on me, so decide to treat her on the same terms, and mind you, I have made this assumption on my own which is not reliable, I realise now, but forgive me for being young and reckless. This assumption may not have been true and thus, unfair in her perspective, but unfortunately I did not have the ability to read minds and didn’t know what she was feeling.

It shredded me to pieces to see her cry and the inability to step in because it was not my place to do so, I was not her friend anymore, I was her rival, I should be happy that she was in pain. And yet I made myself scarce because I could not bear the strange feeling of rage and despair bursting within me. Rage because whoever or whatever that made her cry. Rage because I cared and I didn’t understand why I did so. Despair, because I wasn’t the one she needed comfort from.

I remember feeling giggly and unnecessarily giddy when I wore pigtails for the first time and I had seen her expression change into a look of surprise when she first saw me in them. I remember biting my lip to hide a smile when one of my minions, I mean friends, reported back to me that she had thought that I had looked pretty.

I started to find my passion in writing during this time and had started to get noticed for it in the classroom, yes, before that I was pretty much a loner lurking in the shadows. I don’t know if she had noticed but I remember wanting her to notice and needing her approval like some puppy that needed to be praised. It did not matter how many students nor teachers complimented me, if she didn’t notice, it wasn’t good enough. My own needs made me feel small and pathetic. And I didn’t like that. My friends didn’t seem to like her and I laughed along with them and tried my best not to care which made it easier to look down on her.

Ninth grade we finally talk face to face and I’m certain that my assumptions are true and stiffen whenever I hear her laugh behind my back. I felt as if she thought I was some sort of a freak to make fun of, maybe the rest of the class had brainwashed her. And it hurt. That she believed them. Again this was an assumption and it might’ve been an entirely different story on her side of the world.

It was almost paranoia. The fear and hate and betrayal. And of course the confusingly annoying fact that I still cared about her. A desperate part of me wanted to sit her down alone with me and tell her everything that I felt since sixth grade but it was too late for that and I was terrified that she would laugh and point fingers at me for being so sensitive and thinking the bond we had for a few months in sixth grade was anything special. No. It was much more easier to hate her. Or pretend to.

I remember feeling so jealous when she played guitar and everyone gathered up around her giving her requests and i thought I was jealous because of all the attention she got but thinking back on it, no, it was not that at all, I was jealous because she was giving attention to everyone else, because all those people could sit next to her and ask her to play their favourite songs but I couldn’t, I had to stay far away from her and seethe in my unconscious unnamed alien fury. And yes, there was fear that if i had asked, she would have refused in front of everyone and humiliated me while they laughed. I was definitely paranoid. I was jealous because all these people who weren’t close to her were suddenly very interested in her and when before she had been something that had been only mine, but now everyone wanted her and I’ve already lost my grasp. I did not understand these things then and thus, I despised how easily she had affected me. It took me a very long time to comprehend that she affected me because I let myself care.

Tenth and eleventh grade we talk like normal human beings now. Or not. Because when we talk, it goes on for hours and time loses it’s meaning and before we know it, the bell is ringing signalling that school was close to ending. What did we talk about? Not the important stuff. Like what the fuck happened in the past few years? Hell no. We talked about everything except that. We argued even. I was the one who always got upset and gave her the silent treatment. She was the one who always apologised. Yes, I was a bitch. And we’d make up. And we’d fight and it’ll start all over again.

I had tried to hold her hand once in the science lab but she had shaken it off as if I were on acid, and I did not know what had driven me to do that in the first place, perhaps it was because I was generally a touchy person.

I almost cried on my fifteenth birthday when she played and sang Taylor’s Fifteen on her guitar just because it was my favourite Taylor Swift song and that’s when the tiniest bit of hope started to spark, like maybe she didn’t hate me, because why would a rival do that for you on your birthday?

In eleventh grade, I was going through a dark time in my life, breaking apart from my friends and the only thing keeping me alive was getting to see her face in school and well, it’s pathetic to die before you even sit for your GCE OLs so I didn’t die and I’m so glad right now as I’m writing this, that I didn’t die then.

And you know, she didn’t have to, she didn’t have to talk to me or spend time with me, she could have spent that time with her friends but she didn’t, she spent it with me, she kept me distracted from the demons in my head, she made me laugh but there always was this tiny voice in my brain saying, warning me, don’t get too close, she’s going to leave you again, she’ll hurt you again, but stupid stupid me, I didn’t listen. Why should I when the person I always desired to be noticed by was finally paying me the attention that I craved? Because oh lord I was too young to understand it then, that I was chest-deep in love with this girl, so how could I not? How on earth do you except me to turn away from the one person telling me not to jump, the one person who was there for me when I was spiralling down a rabbit hole of no return?

I wish I had known, I wish someone had told me that it was okay and it wasn’t wrong to love another woman and it was not such a disgusting or inhumane thing that only monsters yearned for, to be loved by another woman. I wish I had known so I didn’t just believe, that i didn’t just blindly mistaken these fierce emotions that were erupting through the seams of my young heart, were purely platonic, Oh please god, I wish I had known it was love. But I didn’t.

That’s when God or whoever the cosmic bastards who control this stupid floating rock, decides to add a bit of ✨spice✨. After our GCEs, my family drops a bombshell saying that we’re moving to Australia and the first thought that popped into my head was her. That I’d have to leave her.

Fast forward and I’m already going to school in a catholic private school and I haven’t spoken to her in two or three months. My hands are shaking when they’re holding my phone waiting for the downloading sign to complete under the Instagram icon. We started emailing and texting a lot but something is different, she sounds so…mechanical. Her texts are short and clipped almost dead, unlike what I remembered of her irl self to be, bubbly, loud and warm like sunshine.

Now I had Aussie friends and my own phone and slowly, hiding from my brown parents under the cover of an incognito tab, slowly I start to learn. About people who are gay, the lgbtq+ community, homophobia etc. And about how it is normal and not gross. The more I learn, the more questioning thoughts fill my head, starting with ‘you know, you’ve been really-‘ and I’d hurriedly close the tab so that I don’t have to think about it. I was terrified to. So I thought I’d rather not know. In my head I didn’t know what to call her. There were too many complicated lines. Was she my best friend? Friend? Classmate? Rival? Frenemy? Soulmate? Crush? No, definitely not the last one. That’s what I thought.

I pour out everything about my day to her, I texted her almost everyday and I’ve begged a few times to phone call to which she refused. She seemed different and I soon learnt that she was having fun in school and classes and I wanted to be happy for her but for some reason I had cried while reading her email. I had wondered so many times why I was still talking to her when I could just forget about my painful past and move on with my brand new life but I also knew that if I let that tiny voice finish it’s sentence I would know the answer and yet I ignored it and kept it padlocked in a box in the depths of my brain.

I had also dreamed, what it would be like if I went back to my home country and met her again, what would she think of me?

During this time I purely believed that if God did truly exist, His Lordship was definitely a piece of shit, because the next time he adds a bit of✨spice✨is when she comes out to me as a bisexual. And i wasn’t surprised. Because I had guessed so. Why was God an asshole? Because He just really wanted me to address the things that I was trying so hard to ignore. I wanted to seem to have neutral opinions about this to her so I brushed it off in a ‘cool’ way or so I thought. Didn’t think too much about it. Oh but I should have, I was so fucking ignorant. Later, oh no, God wasn’t done with his little surprise, there was more coming, later she reveals to me that she may have had a ‘thing’ for me in the past. Excuse me, ma’am? I had tried to seem ‘cool’ again because that’s what we were like, an endless game of cat and mouse and right now I was the cat, or so I thought again. But my mind was chaos, alarms going off, mini Mes screaming and running around in a frenzy, that box exploding from its chains. Then I slowly, hesitantly start to let that voice speak.

One fine day in July 2021, I was back from university on my semester break, I’m texting her while I’m outside my backyard drying my wet hair in the winter sun. My battery was dying and it was freezing and I had sent a photo of the sky because it was a pretty blue and blue was my favourite colour. We both knew this. I had texted something where I referred to her as ‘my friend’ and I did not expect this message to be tagged with so many accusing questions to why I had ‘stripped her of the title of my best friend’ and for the first time in a while I felt as if I wasn’t talking to a brick wall. I remember smiling sadly before replying, before lying, because by then I had accepted who I was and what I had learnt about me and finally, finally knew that I was still stupidly in love with her. And I didn’t know how to tell her because it seemed that again, she had moved on and I was too late.

I was back in uni for my second semester and my moronic self had let it slip that if she had still liked me, I would have dated her. I had slapped myself right after my finger had tapped Send and watched in horror as the two tick marks turned blue. I could have deleted it. But I didn’t. You do stupid things when you talk to the girl you’re in love with, okay? I know you’ve done it too. Recklessness at its finest. My brain pleaded to the idiots in the skies, hoping that she wouldn’t read between the lines while my heart had shushed those pleas, with a prayer that she would. Because I hadn’t lied. I dream and dream of holding her hand, leaning up to kiss her on the cheek, wondering how her expression would change, embracing her feeling her warmth, what her arms would feel like around my waist, slow dancing, what she would do if I laid my head on her shoulder, if I run my hands through her hair, if I cupped her face.

We finally phone call and i fall deeper and deeper in love with this woman listening to her beautiful voice and she already has my pathetic heart on the palm of her hand and I’m the mouse now, dreading the day she would realise and crush it.

She writes songs and I listen to them before I sleep. I am surprised that I am not unfamiliar with the feeling of jealousy when she talks about other girls she has liked and I try my best not to seem pissed off.

It’s August now. We’re on an extremely suspiciously long phone call which has become a norm, she’s looking up things about zodiac signs and compatibility. The atmosphere is dangerous and comfortable at the same time, flirting around boundaries. ‘Apparently I’m a good kisser’ she reads out aloud and my stupid mouth, before I could process what idiotic statement I was going to blurt out so boldly, ‘Really? We should experimentally prove that fact’ As soon as it leaves my lips, I am horrified and there is a pause on the other side of the line before I hear her reply.

One thing leads to another, and we’ve been dating for 10 months now. And maybe I’m a tiny bit thankful to God if He exists for trying so hard to smack me out of my denial, because if not, she would not have been my lover.

When I’m in uni my Lock Screen is a selfie of her adorable eyes peeking out of her blanket and her contact is saved under something vulgar which I will not mention to spare her the embarrassment. But when I go home to my parents’, my Lock Screen turns to a picture of a kpop boy group to deceive the world that I’m a heterosexual and her contact gets changed into a name of a friend from uni.

Her mother despises me and my parents do not approve of me ‘associating’ with her. She lives 8669km away from me, my sleep cycle is horrendous, I write her erotic poems and fan fiction about us when we live together, she writes me songs and plays my favourites songs on her guitar, we have a Spotify blend together. That’s random, I know.

We’ve had our ups and downs but she’s so beautiful you know? She’s so beautiful and perfect and smart and funny and handsome and talented and hot and sexy and cute and adorable and her voice is so dreamy and she has the stunning body of a goddess and her boobs, oh my god, her boobs are just magnificent and she still makes me laugh and makes me feel safe and makes me love myself and her smile is so pretty and oh I could go on for hours about why she’s a wonderful human being and I’m the luckiest woman on earth to have the right to call her mine. I love her so fucking much and I cannot even imagine a life where she is not beside me for that universe simply cannot exist. It would be meaningless.

For those who are reading, I know it won’t be easy for us, it’s only going to get harder, but I’m so willing to give up everything and fight with everything that I have if it means that I don’t have to be afraid to hold her hand out in the open while we’re shopping for groceries. If it means that I would get to live the rest of my life waking up next to her heavenly self. And I want to give her all of me and all things that would make her smile, because she’s so worth it, she’s worth everything, she deserves everything and I will do all I can to give her that.

I don’t really believe in the God stuff, it just feels good to have someone to blame when you think things are going wrong, because even though we’re together now it still seems as if cosmic gods and universes are screaming at us that we aren’t meant to be, but let me kiss your lips scarlet, darling, after I look them dead in the eyes, my middle finger pointed straight up at the heavens.

#I love you

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pesterloglog · 3 months

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Dave Strider, Karkat Vantas

Meat, page 38

DAVE: hey

DAVE: want to get drunk

KARKAT: HUH?

DAVE: i went and got all this fucking booze

KARKAT: YOU *GOT* BOOZE?

DAVE: yeah check it

KARKAT: YOU ACTUALLY WENT AND *GOT* IT.

KARKAT: LIKE, YOU LITERALLY LEFT THE HOUSE AND EXCHANGED CURRENCY WITH A REAL, LIVE PERSON TO OBTAIN ALCOHOL.

DAVE: yeah i walked into the boozery all pigeon toed and embarrassed

DAVE: like some fuckin hooch noob

DAVE: was all like yo whats the most pathetic thing you got to drink yourself to death with

KARKAT: THE BOOZERY???

DAVE: passed right by the box wine

DAVE: the bagged wine

DAVE: the shots they put in those little blister packs by the register

DAVE: the wine in the little sippy cups with the disposable plastic straws like juice for fucking babies

DAVE: i made that last one up i dont actually know anything about alcohol

DAVE: anyway two plastic soda bottles of vodka cooler seems to be about where were at right now

DAVE: i think thats what this is anyway

DAVE: i dont really care long as it gets the job done

DAVE: i decided that im an alcoholic now

KARKAT: HAVE YOU NOW.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: its never too late to develop a substance abuse problem

DAVE: ive been thinking about it for a while and it seems like its time for me to finally get on the wagon of not being on the wagon

KARKAT: THAT’S REALLY GREAT, DAVE.

DAVE: thanks

DAVE: anyway hows the inauguration

DAVE: you having a good time dwelling on every tiny little factor that cumulatively led to our electoral defeat

DAVE: and how if just one thing had been different it would have been us up there

KARKAT: UGH.

KARKAT: YOU AND I BOTH KNOW NOTHING MATTERED IN THAT CAMPAIGN BUT JAKE’S FUCKING SPEECH.

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: i mean, like

DAVE: i just keep imagining what wouldve happened if that absurd rube goldberg machine of life ruining humiliation had been stopped at any point

DAVE: maybe just being backstabbed by his endorsement alone was something we couldve recovered from with some rigorous counter campaigning

DAVE: but what if i had been fast enough to cut him off before hed even said anything

DAVE: what if i hadnt accidentally fallen on him on the stage when i was rushing over there to stop him

DAVE: what if he hadnt freaked out like i set off fireworks next to a nam vet and started trying to fucking scrum me

DAVE: what if id just backed away from his punch with my legs like a normal person instead of warping the flow of time to escape causing him to become so startled he shit his pants

DAVE: what if i hadnt gotten so visibly grossed out by the smell that even the people watching it on tv could tell what had happened

DAVE: what if he hadnt started sobbing when the audience in the front rows started throwing up

DAVE: what if wed had better security and stopped that lady from running onstage during the fracas and announcing that jake has been dodging paying child support for their 3 kids

DAVE: like what was the LINE

KARKAT: IT WASN’T... *THAT* BAD.

DAVE: you think

DAVE: yeah see thats why im an alcoholic now

DAVE: want a drink

KARKAT: IF I’M BEING PERFECTLY FUCKING HONEST

KARKAT: I’M GLAD I LOST. I NEVER WANTED TO FUCKING WIN IN THE FIRST PLACE.

DAVE: dude come on

KARKAT: NO, I’M BEING SERIOUS.

KARKAT: I’M NOT EVEN DOING SOME SOUR GRAPES “I NEVER WANTED IT IN THE FIRST PLACE BECAUSE I’M A SORE LOSER TRYING TO DELUDE MYSELF INTO THINKING I DON’T CARE” SORT OF THING.

KARKAT: OBVIOUSLY I FUCKING CARE SINCE NOW THE PLANET IS GOING TO BE COMPLETELY RUINED BY THIS JUMPED-UP FASCIST DICTATOR WHO HAS EVERY INTENTION OF GRADUALLY GENOCIDING MY SPECIES INTO NONEXISTENCE BEFORE MY VERY EYES.

KARKAT: BUT I CANNOT FUCKING THINK OF A SINGLE THING IN THE UNIVERSE I WANTED TO DO LESS THAN BE THE STUPID FUCKING PRESIDENT.

KARKAT: THANK HUMAN OBAMA.

DAVE: wait was there a troll obama

KARKAT: I’M THE FUCKING TROLL OBAMA, REMEMBER?

DAVE: karkat

DAVE: you wouldve been so much more than obama

KARKAT: HEY.

DAVE: yeah buddy whats up

KARKAT: I JUST...

DAVE: hey dont worry about it

DAVE: you dont have to explain yourself to me

DAVE: i get it

DAVE: it makes sense. id always felt the same way kind of

DAVE: like about all my shit with sburb and whatever. the reluctant heros journey

DAVE: that feeling where youre being dragged along to being a kind of guy everyone is saying you have to be but youve never felt like theres any way you can really BECOME

DAVE: where every second you feel so sick with your own self doubt and fear that you cant bear to even imagine the future

DAVE: and you think

DAVE: why me

DAVE: even though you know it cant be anyone but you

DAVE: and thats why you do it

KARKAT: YEAH.

DAVE: lol

KARKAT: I WASN’T TRYING TO EXPLAIN MYSELF, THOUGH.

KARKAT: I JUST WANTED TO THANK YOU.

DAVE: huh

DAVE: for what

KARKAT: FOR... EVERYTHING.

KARKAT: EVEN IF WE DIDN’T WIN, I’M GLAD WE TRIED.

KARKAT: I’M GLAD WE WENT THROUGH THIS TOGETHER.

DAVE: me too

KARKAT: MORE THAN ANYTHING, I... YOU...

KARKAT: YOU BELIEVE IN ME IN A WAY NOBODY EVER HAS BEFORE.

KARKAT: MORE THAN I’VE EVER BEEN ABLE TO BELIEVE IN MYSELF.

KARKAT: AND I’VE NEVER REALLY...

KARKAT: FELT LIKE THIS BEFORE.

DAVE: felt like what

KARKAT: I MEAN, LIKE

KARKAT: YOU KNOW.

KARKAT: IT’S NOT LIKE I’VE NEVER HAD FRIENDS BEFORE. PEOPLE I CARE ABOUT.

KARKAT: BUT WHEN PEOPLE TELL ME THEY CARE ABOUT ME, ON SOME LEVEL IT’S HARD FOR ME TO REALLY BUY IT.

KARKAT: THEY CAN LIST WHATEVER JUSTIFICATIONS THEY HAVE FOR LIKING ME AND IT ALL FEELS LIKE BULLSHIT.

KARKAT: IT’S LIKE, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? YOU CAN’T REALLY EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE YOU SERIOUSLY THINK THIS ABOUT ME.

KARKAT: THERE’S NO WAY YOU ACTUALLY SEE ME THAT WAY.

KARKAT: YOU JUST FEEL BAD FOR ME. YOU’RE TALKING DOWN TO ME LIKE I’M SOME SORT OF PATHETIC WIGGLER WHO NEEDS TO BE CODDLED.

KARKAT: OR YOU’RE JUST IMAGINING I’M WHATEVER WAY YOU WISH I WOULD BE, SOME PERSON WHO’S BETTER AND SMARTER AND STRONGER AND KINDER AND MORE VALUABLE THAN THE PERSON I REALLY AM.

KARKAT: I CAN NEVER UNDERSTAND WHY ANYONE I CARE ABOUT WOULD EVER WASTE THEIR FUCKING TIME ON ME.

KARKAT: BUT WITH YOU...

KARKAT: BUT WITH YOU, IT MAKES SENSE. I GUESS.

KARKAT: WHEN YOU SAY SOMETHING NICE TO ME, I’M LIKE... YEAH? OK?

KARKAT: THAT’S COMPREHENSIBLE? I SEE HOW YOU GOT FROM POINT A TO POINT B.

KARKAT: I CAN KNOW YOU THE WAY I DO AND THINK ABOUT WHO YOU ARE AND I CAN UNDERSTAND WHY YOU’D WANT SOMEONE LIKE ME BESIDE YOU.

KARKAT: I DON’T HAVE TO WONDER WHAT’S MISSING.

KARKAT: YOU’RE ON MY LEVEL. AND I’M ON YOURS.

KARKAT: I BELIEVE THAT YOU SEE ME IN FRONT OF YOU THE WAY I ACTUALLY AM, FOR BETTER OR WORSE, AND STILL LIKE ME ANYWAY.

KARKAT: SO EVEN THOUGH IT’S STILL HARD FOR ME TO BELIEVE IN MYSELF A LOT OF THE TIME,

KARKAT: I BELIEVE IN YOU, SO I DON’T NEED TO.

DAVE: so what youre saying is you believe in me who believes in you

KARKAT: YEAH, KIND OF?

KARKAT: FUCK, MAN. THAT’S KIND OF DEEP.

DAVE: i know

KARKAT: SO, YEAH.

KARKAT: THAT’S WHAT I’VE NEVER REALLY FELT BEFORE.

KARKAT: AND I’M GLAD YOU’RE...

KARKAT: THAT WE’RE...

KARKAT: I’M GLAD YOU’RE MY FRIEND, DAVE.

DAVE: oh

DAVE: same

DAVE: so...

KARKAT: IS SOMETHING WRONG?

DAVE: huh

DAVE: no

DAVE: sorry i just had an absolutely insane train of thought that kind of sent me for a loop

KARKAT: UHH... WHAT?

DAVE: no its extremely better that i dont tell you

DAVE: i kind of forgot what we were talking about because it was so awful

KARKAT: ...

DAVE: oh right

DAVE: yeah

DAVE: all that shit you said about us being friends and on the same level or whatever

DAVE: yeah i feel the same way basically

DAVE: or like

DAVE: well

KARKAT: WHAT?

DAVE: im not sure that i like...

DAVE: hm.

DAVE: im kind of getting the feeling that... maybe...

DAVE: theres a level to what were thinking that isnt entirely coming across in words

DAVE: and since we dont have the right words we arent getting to the right actions either

KARKAT: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT.

DAVE: like maybe we feel the same way about certain things

DAVE: but what were saying and what were feeling

DAVE: maybe those arent exactly the same thing

DAVE: and maybe... we should...

KARKAT: WE SHOULD WHAT?

DAVE: maybe its time to

DAVE: talk

DAVE: about... that

KARKAT: THAT???

DAVE: yeah, like

DAVE: how... when you say were friends

DAVE: what... does that mean

KARKAT: THAT WE’RE FRIENDS?

DAVE: yeah but

DAVE: is that it?

DAVE: just friends

KARKAT: OF COURSE NOT.

KARKAT: YOU’RE MY...........

KARKAT: B......

KARKAT: ......EST FRIEND.

DAVE: oh

DAVE: i see

DAVE: well

DAVE: ok then

KARKAT: D... DAVE?

DAVE: karkat

DAVE: i

DAVE: i think i

DAVE: wait

DAVE: fuck

KARKAT: WHAT’S WRONG?

KARKAT: DID I DO SOMETH—

DAVE: no

DAVE: i just cant

DAVE: shit

DAVE: it just feels like

DAVE: what the fuck is going on

DAVE: this feels really off

KARKAT: ????

DAVE: idk

DAVE: i just keep having thoughts i know id never think

KARKAT: WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?

DAVE: i have no idea

DAVE: im sorry

DAVE: GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD AND JUST LET ME DO THIS MYSELF!!!

KARKAT: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DAVE: dude

DAVE: come here...

#homestuck #homestuck epilogues #dave strider #karkat vantas #meat epilogue #page 38

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mukmun · 10 months

Text

There are so many emotions inside of me and I can’t express any of them

Fear turned to self hatred and anger

I promised I wouldn’t be like my mother and I am not; I’m worse

Something wretched and curdled deep within and burrowed into my bone marrow. Forever a stain on my soul and body. Cigarette smoke braided into my nerves and hair, a warning to those who get close to me

Me. I. Myself. My perception of who I’ve become; someone the little child of nostalgia I cradled so lovingly once would now be scared of, would look at with apprehension.

I walk on eggshells around Me and keep in my peripheral, ready to flee from.

Did I do this? Was this a dream, a thought, an action? Did this really happen or am I fooling myself? An entire winter has passed, it’s drool and chill still following me, marking me. I can see it in the mirror, in the bags under my eyes, in the cracks of my nails, in the scars that I have weathered for years: relics now.

Am I relic?

I am a monument. A memory of what could have been and of what was. I feel okay, and there is something deeply unsettling in me. Is it me? Am I wrong? I’m not right.

What am I - Am I the rain? Sun shining through a tree’s crown? Water running down the window of a car at night, followed by young eyes? A hand print on a mirror? Dust nestled behind furniture? Am I really here? Is all this a sign of my existence?

Are the crumbs left behind on a table me?

Is that all I’ll ever be?

Fleeting. Time is fleeting. Time is yearning. Time is what hurts and heals and breaks your bones and sucks out the marrow. I suck out your marrow, I feast. I leave nothing behind. I carry everything with me.

A rusty nail in an alley, a pair of sunglasses left in a hotel room, a sock lost in the washing machine. That is everything. I am everything because i let myself be. I let these things attach to my creaking body; a door without enough oil on its hinges; a window without a key to open it; a locksmith in a mall.

These are all dear to me. Am I dear to them?

Do they remember me with as much vigour as I remember them with? Do they give me as much life as I give them? Do they let me latch onto them as i let them latch onto me?

Everything is inconsequential. Am I? Am I really?

You asked and I tore myself open, ripping flesh and sinew and I showed you the deepest, most wretched roots of my ribs and the feeblest capillaries of my heart. I am.

Am I?

Can I be, if I can’t remember? Why can’t I remember? I know this happened. When did this happen? Did this happen? Can it have happened if I can’t recall it?

Is this all there is? All there ever will be?

Will I remain in the foundation of my childhood home, stuck? Stuck and beginning for a fire to burn down everything I have ever known, ever will know, just to be set free?

What is freedom? Can I be free? Free of what, myself? You? The you who I’ve curated so tastefully in my head, in my late-night musings. That’s not you; it’s me.

I don’t know you at all. That’s frightening.

Headlights peak through the rotten wood of my garden gate. Is this life? Is that what life is?

I don’t know you at all yet I’ve let you see the crevices of myself that even I dare not look at. Good God, what have I done? I don’t understand anything, and I feel above everyone and below everything.

I think I’m so great, so philosophical, so smart and clever and creative and genius, so inhumane. Yet I’m still here. Entwined with it all. I am no better. I am worse and I am equal and I am all and nothing. Simultaneous. I am water and fire and breath and wood and insects in a corpse and the birth of a life.

Is there comfort in this? Am I comfortable? Have I deluded myself so far and so deeply that I find comfort in my misery, my inferiority, my complexities and simple mess?

Is the moon real? Does she really look and watch and listen and know, or is that she a projection of myself? Is she a mother I never felt I had? A father who never wanted me, who never knew commitment. Is he me?

Lord, is he me? Am I him? Am I just a man who cannot care nor commit nor know nor ignore or forget? Why does he care about me? He doesn’t. He cares about the me he has curated in his musings, as I care about the you I’ve created in my musings.

I am like my father.

I am like my father and like my mother and I know no greater sin than that.

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theworldisyourlobster · 1 year

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Baby its cold outside, but I opened the window

The other day I had a phone call with mama. Who seems to believe in me more than I do in myself. I hope she is right, and not just deluded into a sense of false security of thinking her child is talented.

Either way - I wish Linked-in jobs thought I was as interesting and talented as she seems to believe. Just like how I wish straight men enjoyed my company as much as my orchestra of queer allies. I damn my need for male validation. But more on this other time..

Anyway I am doing what my mother told me, taking a day - or maybe more to write down the vapid thoughts that pass.

While I do this I am reminded of all the messages I forgot to reply and niggly little bullet points on my scribbly to do lists that are written on multiple scraps of paper and hang around between my room and my pockets and bags. Things I meant to do and then lost.

And even when, I muster the strength to sit down to write suddenly all the things that I want to get down all circle my mind - and I chase these kittens, catching one while another slips out my pocket.

Am I great or am I a narcissist? Do you care what I have to say. And how annoying that I didn’t bring cash. France doesn’t do cards - but again this is a passage for when I’ve covered my other stuff.

A bell rings as the door in this bistro swingings open and shut during the lunch rush. The cold breeze is aggressively refreshing. miss my radiator at home.

My radiator, that my house mate refuses to switch off - on full blast all day and night. It felt excessive even for a cold blooded lizard like me - so while she was at work I turned it down - in response to my affront I was faced with an instructional WhatsApp message. Please keep heating like this: picture of boiler switched on high. I mean I don’t ming - I don’t pay the bills, but it does feel quite wrong to have to keep my windows.

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servitudeofsadness · 1 year

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My mind is lunacy; I have to SHATTER & SECLUDE my thoughts, but tonight I will SPEAK.

I learnt my name spells out “graveyard” in my father-tongue

and the macabre weeping angels in the cemetery entices me so;

pray never to see or be seen

I should, I should, I should finish my books. Why do I spend so long on one page, my mind wanders.

I am confused about the word that feels intimately familiar. Latin originated.

dead. I want to be buried like the language that lives dead.

Singing devil’s advocate. I will come back with the sole purpose to haunt.

i have 15 books gathered in mahogany wood dust stacked from

emma to the virgin suicides on my bedside floor.

I won’t finish my books

unless, i need someone to read them to me,

brushing my hair, nulling me to sleep. Please, give me this.

i am so devoid of love.

The naivety people expect of me in girlhood stings me, stains me.

i lie, endearingly. (i’ve been fed the lie from strangers, uncles,

teachers with the palm of their hands that lying will have me

burnt to an ashy crisp).

(i promise you, i lie to not cause pain, i lie to

disguise dread as dreams. i lie to myself first and always).

Watch my nails never stay manicured: they’re my compulsory deterrent to panic that undo me to

harsh tears, split flesh, red stained teeth.

Biting till they’ve gone chipped and stale in my mouth.

Swallowing rotten dirt.

purple eye bags always litter my face, a reminder of not having slept enough last night.

I love them,

scholaresque, writer in the dark, midnights, neardead; Why cover it up?

Screw my sleep schedule, my mind creates, creases, caresses silly poems

only at night.

am i a good writer? a good poet? a good person who feels and thinks and have deluded dreams of making that a career? is a career in writing ever so worth it? i write because i like it, not for fame or money; but it is not sustainable to do so. i want to be great or nothing. a teacher’s one note praise is not an indicator of talent. and my talent hasn’t grasped the world of geniuses living past me. mary shelley wrote frankenstein at nineteen and if i don’t finish my stories in 4 years, i will have my life in utter un-extra-ordinaire like wannabe writers writing to Delusion. i want to speak like mothers who spill blood, fathers who spout slurs, and brothers who seals fear. and i will offer my sanity, my soul, and myself to make it so.

what is coquette? don’t ask. never ask.

do you ever ponder what the end of humanity would feel like? the act of heart-staking on a grand scale as shards of rocks crumble and reddish ashes cloud the god-touched skies. Will anything matter? Anything at all? we are set to die once we hear our newborn-cry. life is a play-thing we have tried to curate some sort of meaning in. And one day, 8 billion years forth, everything will perish. there is no future generation; there is no legacy; there is no heaven, no hell, no purgatory. there is no ground to stand on because no one will come out of it alive. the sun will implode and the life that flows in our veins, blood fresh, kindness, art, music, poetry, all of which makes us so intricately human — will die. ‘

Sleepless nights pass by me to tell me i am sacrificing sanity for my poetry.

pomegranates. gorging mouthfuls of saccharine and choking seeds of athanasia. Persephone ate for satiation and gutted herself with an entrapment, a contract of eternal damnation. pomegranates are always to be eaten cautiously.

big three: leo sun, leo rising, scorpio moon.

once i overcome my need for academic validation, the obsessive compulsion to count calories, my fear of intimacy, disordered eating, chronically onlineness, my 4th reading slump of the week, procrastination, replaying the same lana, taylor, and mitski songs over and over to cleanse the void of my skin, the urge to say kms for the the 24th time in a day, using tumblr journaling as a coping mechanism, reliving escapist fantasies i’ve dugged up from my childhood journals and my destructive tendencies in pursuit of being a writer, I will finally be so much more than content with myself.

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broomswept-thoughts · 2 years

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I have a lot of feelings right now.

I’m upset because Tammy always makes these innuendos that I’m really rich? Which is kinda weird and also makes me feel bad. I feel like she’s guilt-tripping me whenever I do things that don’t require me to be tired, unhappy, or feel bad. I feel like she’s resentful when I can leave and do things beyond her that I enjoy or make me happy. I feel like she’s also resentful that my family is more well-off than her family. These are things that might also be a source of guilt for me too, and I find it difficult to separate my feelings of guilt with if she’s really being passive aggressive towards me. I also feel like even if she is being passive aggressive, I don’t have the right to say anything because I’m more well-off and that I deserve being told and treated this way/ it’s the least that I can do for her to be her punching bag in that sense. But I also really dislike it. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do because I don’t want to be that rich person who’s disconnected and complaining about poor people? Am I just an over-privileged bitch lmao? But it feels really weird, I felt like when I left for NYC, I felt for the first time that I was allowed to express my happiness and joy of doing things, even if it cost money. I felt like with Tammy, I’m always walking on eggshells in terms of how good I’m allowed to have it. I really hate it, I don’t think it should be a crime to not do work or to take a break or to have fun? I feel pressured to not speak of it or to not express it if it’s independent of her. I feel tied down, like I’m not allowed to be happy without her.

I think it’s hard because it’s in part my guilt and in part feeling prickled and unsure about what to say to make it stop.

The whole bs with okaasan about not wanting to talk about med school apps was also so upsetting. I just feel tired of her and SImo and just many people telling me that I’m some form of disappointment, lack understanding or wisdom/ knowledge/ empathy/ qualifications in some manner that’s beyond me and was never made clear. I’m really tired, but it’s also vaguely funny how similar Simo and my mom are. Absolutely shreked emotionally and throwing around their baggage at other people. Being really flawed? Egotistical and narcissistic? Probably good people at heart except when they don’t get what they want? Oh yes, absolutely. I want to flee Baltimore and Maryland for this purpose. I can’t really take this at close proximity for longer than the year.

I’m constantly ???. Like what am I doing wrong? Am I treating people that badly? That I don’t even deserve guidance on what I’m doing wrong or how to be better? Am I so absolutely flawed in their eyes that it’s not worth telling or taking the time to teach me what to do? I feel exhausted by these older adult-children, and I’m genuinely impressed that they’ve made it this far in life by throwing their egos at people to make it their problem instead. I also wonder if I’m treating my friends not well enough, if that’s why they feel like they have to be passive aggressive at me in order for me to take a hint that I’m not treating them well. Am I taking them for granted too much? What am I doing wrong, how can I fix it. What’s wrong with me? What do I need to do to be a better person and friend? I’m so tired. Maybe I’m just deluded in thinking that I’ve come far or that I’ve become better.

But this gets into the circle of not knowing what better is as a person, because I’m the only one who can quantify that. Treating myself with compassion is so hard when everyone tells you that you couldn’t possibly deserve it, that I only deserve more pain in order to prove myself, that only people who suffer deserve kindness and if you’re not suffering, you deserve vitriol. I don’t want to suffer, and I want to receive kindness without having to show that I’m in pain or that I’m suffering all the time. Doesn’t everyone deserve kindness? Yes, people who are in pain deserve kindness, but kindness shouldn’t be a limited resource where the only thing left when kindness is gone, is just meanness and snide jabs.

If Tammy isn’t going to treat me as I am, and if okaasan and Simo are going to be done with me as a human being apparently, then I’m still going to be fine. It’s hard, but maybe all three of them see suffering as a pre-requisite for treating someone without resentment. I don’t think I can do well being open or constantly in their presence in any emotionally vulnerable way. I’m being sucked down, and I’m tired of having to prove my suffering to be heard or to be cared about. It sounds toxic to me. None of them really hate me on a personal level or want to consciously hurt me, but I just think they’re lazy about how they treat others and want everyone else to be traumatized, hurt in the same way and for only themselves to be treated kindly. And I’m sorta sick and done with that. I don’t want to be around people who treat others less well but expect that people treat them with the utmost respect and niceties. I think it’s shameless and exhausting.

I’m most disappointed about Tammy, I guess. I thought she would be more careful with her words and all, but maybe I’m the only one who cares so much about the words and tone that people level towards me. I thought she would maybe understand that she sounds passive aggressive towards me or resentful constantly. But I’m not sure if that’s even worth my time. Maybe. Sigh. I think she’s the most.... maybe open to hearing me out. I just really hate being here, I don’t have good memories of Baltimore beyond Julia and Quey.

I guess I might talk to her about it and see how it goes.

I can’t do much about Simo and okaasan. Which is unfortunate, but the only way out is through, and I’m just going to have to grit my teeth to succeed this year alone. At least I have Tes, for lab. And there’s distance enough from Bethesda, although there can definitely be more.

The last thing that makes me depressed as fuck is probably my labmates. They never respond to me when I say anything in the groupchat, so I’m just kind of tired and done. I don’t want to only be seen when I’m being made into a spectacle. I’m not here for that either, and I kind of can’t care about being buddies with them all either. It’s tiring, and I don’t need their companionship if I have a couple friends outside of them in Baltimore. I guess it hurts to be ostracized, but this is another thing that I’ll just have to endure before I can leave.

I feel better after typing all this. Last night was hard because all of these thoughts were popping up one after the other like a whack a mole lol before I went to sleep.

Oh, and the last things in my mind.... I mean, I don’t know if I have the emotional capability to really think about it seriously about how I feel about Quey. Talking with him definitely makes me feel happy and more alive, but also maybe I’m just looking for a talking friend? I’m always stuck wondering if I like someone platonically (like an exclusive platonic bff) or romantically. I guess it’s hard, when I was really still much more hung up over Duncan, part of it was that I felt like I was really special to him? But in the end, I’m not really sure. I don’t really feel like being in a serious romantic relationship with anyone, I just kinda don’t feel like trusting people much anymore. I guess Hinge is fun, but I also don’t see myself as seriously dating anyone anymore. I can’t imagine it. It would shock me if I dated anyone at all, much less this year. I just like to think about it as a mental distraction from all of the emotional crap laying on me recently.

#reflection

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years

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Words: 2,952 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: The prison (Season 3) Warnings: language, that's it! A/N: Kintsugi, aka "golden joinery" is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with precious materials like gold and it is strikingly beautiful. I think you'll understand why I titled the fic this at the end! Summary: After Daryl leaves with Merle, he return to the prison to find that Y/N is extremely angry with him...

Your name: submit What is this?

Your face went through a rapid series of emotions as soon as his familiar broad shoulders came into view. First was shock and surprise, and then relief to see him again and to see him in one piece, and then just... anger. Daryl shifted his weight anxiously from one foot to the next, watching over everyone crowded around him as you simply stood up and turned your back on the room and left. You walked straight out and into the row of cells, disappearing through the heavy metal door. Daryl caught Rick’s eyes and the sheriff simply tilted his head and gave Daryl a knowing look. Daryl’s attention was pulled away as Carol grabbed him into a tight hug.

He was surprised when you didn’t come back out to join in the discussion of what the hell to do next about Woodbury and the Governor. He worked up the courage to try to talk to you, knowing full well it may just be an exercise in futility.

You easily heard the familiar cadence of his steps approaching your cell and the doorway darkened as his frame stopped in the space. He gripped the edge of the cell door and anxiously chewed his bottom lip.

You were sitting on the edge of your bunk, determinedly not looking at him. “Go away, Daryl.” Your voice was quiet but there was an unfamiliar edge to it.

He shifted uncomfortably but didn’t leave. “Just—would ya just talk to me?” he ventured. He saw the muscle in your jaw tense as your teeth clenched. “What is there to talk about?” “I—’M back now. I came back,” he said. He felt sick. He wasn’t used to you being angry with him and it was completely twisting him into knots. “Yep,” you said, standing and going to the doorway. You pulled the hanging sheet in the doorway, a makeshift door, closed right in his face. “Leave me alone,” your voice came out from the cell and then he heard the springs of your bunk creak as you sank back down on it. He stepped back from the fabric and dropped his hand from its grip on the doorframe, heaving a heavy sigh. Carol stepped out of her cell, just a few doors down and looked at Daryl staring at the closed sheet in front of him. He turned at the sound of her soft footsteps. Carol’s brow was furrowed low over her eyes and she tilted her head in the direction of the staircase that climbed to the second level. Daryl’s hand clenched and unclenched in a fist and he gave your cell one last parting look before turning away to follow Carol up the stairs. She peeked at Judith in her makeshift bed and smiled. Daryl stopped beside her and looked down at the little sleeping bundle. His heart warmed at the sight of her, but his expression was still dark. Carol glanced over at him. He chewed on his bottom lip anxiously again. “She won’t even talk to me,” he drawled. “Give her a little time,” Carol said gently. “She’ll come around.” Carol sounded very sure of her assertion, but all Daryl could think was that he’d ruined things for good. “I came back,” he said, leaning back against the railing. His heart was aching with regret. Going off with Merle was stupid in the first place. Almost as soon as he’d done it he knew it was a mistake. “You being back doesn’t change the fact that you left in the first place,” Carol pointed out. “You really think she doesn’t have a right to be upset? Think about how she’s interpreting you leaving.” He gave her a questioning look. Carol straightened up and stared at him. “I understand why you did what you did. He’s your brother. He’s blood. But you leaving with him... to her it means she wasn’t worth staying for. You chose Merle, a racist asshole, over all of us, and right when we’re sitting on the edge of war against the psychopath Merle worked for. I know that isn’t really what happened. It’s not that simple, but that’s what it feels like. She thinks you leaving means that... whatever there is between the two of you wasn’t worth anything. It wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

He gulped and shifted uncomfortably. “But that ain’t true...” Carol shrugged. “That’s how it seems to her.”

Daryl ran a hand over his face and sighed again. “I really fucked up,” he growled. The grit and gravel in his voice was heavier than usual. “You did what you thought you needed to do,” Carol said, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. “Just give her a little time. She’ll cool off.” But the rest of the day, you stayed in your cell with the doorway covered. Daryl hung around hoping you’d step out so he could try to talk to you again, try to apologize and explain. He was sick with regret and guilt and worry, but you never stepped out. “Who’s on watch tonight?” Daryl asked Rick. He was thinking about offering to stay up and take both shifts because there was no way he would be sleeping that night anyway. He was too anxious. “Y/N first and then Glenn is taking the second shift. He gave Daryl a knowing look. The archer looked miserable. Rick sighed. “I’m just glad you’re back,” Rick said.

Daryl nudged his nose up in nod. “Yeah... thanks...” You’d be on guard first. You wouldn’t be able to hide in your cell forever. You could, however, still tell him to fuck off, but he had to try. Just waiting around was agonizing and he kept thinking about how in this world even the next minute wasn’t a guarantee. He had to make things right as soon as he could.

Night fell and after scraping together his courage, Daryl got up, knowing you’d be in the guard tower by now. He went to the little stove and heated up some water, pouring it over a tea bag in a mug and staring down at it. Yeah, bring her tea, dumbass. That’ll fix it. But regardless of that derisive voice in his head, he grabbed the mug and headed out to climb the narrow stairs of the guard tower, curls of steam wafting off the surface of the amber liquid. You turned when you heard the metal door from the stairwell creak open, thinking maybe Glenn couldn’t sleep and was coming to keep you company early. Instead you saw the broad shoulders of the archer coming through and you turned away and fixed your eyes on the darkness blanketing the prison yard. “What?” you asked sharply. Daryl gulped. Obviously you hadn’t cooled off enough yet. “I just—uhh.” He rubbed his hand awkwardly over the back of his neck. “I brought ya some tea,” he drawled. You kept your back to him and said nothing. He edged closer and set the tea in front of you on the table. It was then that he noticed the bandage on your upper arm. He hadn’t noticed it before, probably because you’d been wearing a jacket. Without thinking, he reached out and gently grabbed your arm. “What happened?”

You glanced at his hand on your arm and then up to his blue eyes. You felt your resolve crumbling as soon as your eyes met his. It was like some involuntary reaction you had no control over, but you tugged your arm from his grasp and shifted away from him, averting your eyes back toward the outside again. “I got shot,” you said. “What?” he urged. “The hell ya mean ya got shot?”

His voice was tinged with deep concern. “By one of those Woodbury assholes. You know, when you were off running around with Merle,” you replied. Daryl’s stomach twisted. How could he have been so stupid? If he’d been at the prison where he was supposed to be he could have protected you. What if it hadn’t just been your arm? He hadn’t even said goodbye to you... he’d just left. The hell was he thinking? You must have sensed his sudden panic because you looked over at him again and studied his face. “It’s just a bullet graze, Daryl.” Your tone was flat this time, but it was an improvement over the previous anger. “I’d rather be alone,” you said quietly. You hesitated. “Thanks for the tea.”

He gulped again. This distant tone you had was eating him alive and he felt his blood pressure rising. “Would ya just look at me at least? Gimme a chance to explain!”

You were a bit taken aback by his tone, which was now a little angry too, and you did turn to stare at him, your brow furrowed heavily now. “Explain?” You scoffed. “What the hell is there to explain? You made your choice. Your priorities are pretty damn clear. So, just—just leave me alone...”

“Nah,” he growled. “Not ‘til ya listen to me.”

You glared at him and he watched the muscle in your jaw tense as you clenched your teeth. “Actions speak louder than words, Daryl.”

“I fucked up, alright? I ain’t denyin’ that! I wanted to come back as soon as I left!” he roared. “‘M sorry!” “Sorry?” You stared at him, bewildered. “You’re sorry,” you repeated. “Yeah, well, so am I. Sorry I was stupid enough to think that maybe—” You broke off and shut your eyes, breathing in a tense breath. “That maybe what?” Daryl pressed you.

“That maybe I actually fucking meant something to you!” you yelled. There were angry tears in your eyes now and you fought to blink them away. “But if you could just leave then clearly I’ve deluded myself, because I could never do that to you. So, I guess I don’t know what this—” you gestured to yourself and then to him, “—is. Was. Whatever... apparently it’s nothing.” The archer stared at you feeling like his heart had split open. “That ain’t—that ain’t true. And it wasn’t that simple. S’not that simple.” He took a hesitant step toward you.

Your jaw was still set. “Forget it. You don’t need to explain anything to me. It’s not like we were.... together. I was stupid to read into anything. I’m—I’m done. I’ll just send Glenn up later,” you murmured, trying to storm out of the guard tower, ready to race down the stairs and leave the whole mess behind you. But Daryl’s hand gently caught you as you tried to move past him, landing lightly but firmly on your arm.

“Nah. Don’t do that! Don’t just—just dismiss this!” he growled.

You stared up at him, caught off-guard by his hand on you, by him physically stopping you from leaving. You were trying to think of something to say but your mind was suddenly blank. His hand finally dropped from your arm but instead of backing off he stepped closer to you. “This ain’t nothin’!” he argued. “And ya weren’t kiddin’ yerself. Now just stop bein’ so damn stubborn and talk to me!” You felt your resolve crumbling a little. “I—I don’t have anything else to say!” you retorted angrily. “Now let me by!” You tried to brush past him again but he stepped right in your way. “Daryl,” you growled. “Get outta the way.” “Nah,” he said shaking his head. “Ya wanna be stubborn? Fine, but so will I.”

“Move!” you yelled at him again, feeling a flush of angry heat in your face. “No,” he said again, this time catching your eyes with his blue ones.

Your chest was heaving with angry and nervous breaths. “Let me go,” you said, and this time even you were surprised by how weak your own request sounded.

Daryl stared down at you, his posture defiant, obstinate. His heart was absolutely racing in his chest and he finally couldn’t suppress the urge any longer. He clasped your face in both hands and kissed you urgently, something he’d wanted to do for so long, but even more so since he’d tried to leave. It was all he could think about. A moment later he was sweeping you into him with a hand on your lower back.

You let out a noise of surprise and stumbled back, away from him, staring at him standing there with his chest heaving. “Wh—what the hell are you doing?”

Daryl gulped. Oh shit. Had he just fucked things up worse? He gestured vaguely with one hand. “This ain’t nothin’,” he drawled, breathless from his lips on yours. He stepped toward you cautiously again, half expecting you to move away or brush past him for the exit, but you didn’t move. He anxiously licked his lips, and you felt butterflies flit to life in your stomach. “‘M sorry,” he said again.

You stared at him, a quizzical expression on your face. You wanted his lips on yours again. “Say it again,” you said softly. You stepped closer to him.

Daryl stared down into your eyes. The regret in his was plain. He slipped his fingers into your hair and clasped your face again. “‘M so sorry. I ain’t ever gonna leave again if I can help it.”

Your expression softened and you grabbed onto the front of his vest and pulled his lips down to meet yours, kissing him heatedly. Daryl’s hand landed on your lower back again and he pulled you against him, pressing forward so you were touching practically from knees to nose. His kiss was urgent, feverish. He pressed into you and you moved backwards blindly until you felt the table behind you. Daryl’s strong hands lifted you, setting you on the edge. You looped your arms around his neck and gently bit at his lower lip, eliciting a chesty growl from him. His hands wandered over your back and smoothed down your sides, feeling the curve of your waist and angles of your hips. They wandered down further and ran over your thighs, sending tingles of electricity up your back. You tugged him into you more tightly, feeling his hips pressing into the inside of your knees as you sat on the table. You slid a hand under his vest, around his back, and scratched your nails over the thin cotton of his shirt, feeling his strong, tense muscles beneath the material. He pulled back from you suddenly and your eyes opened, long eyelashes fluttering, disappointed and feeling the inches between your lips profoundly. “What is it?” you asked him, completely out of breath. He just stared down at you, not lifting his hands from your hips. “Nothin’. Just tryin’ to convince myself this is really happenin’,” he drawled, his eyes flitting between yours and your partially parted lips.

You ran your fingers through his hair and he leaned into your touch. “It is.”

He looked suddenly nervous again. “Listen, I still wanna tell ya... I can’t entirely explain it. I know Merle’s an asshole. Of course I know that... But he’s my brother. And it was almost like I didn’t have a choice in the matter. I’d already left him once in Atlanta. I couldn’t do it again.” Daryl rushed on, still in vague disbelief that somehow you’d gone from yelling at him to kissing him in a span of a few minutes. “But as soon as we were alone out there... I realized he might be my brother but he ain’t really my family anymore. Maybe he never was.”

You gulped and nodded, pressing your hand flush to his chest and feeling his racing heart beneath your fingers. “I’m sorry I was so hard on you,” you said regretfully. “I was just—hurt.”

He nodded. “I can’t blame ya. ‘M sorry.”

You looped your arms around his neck again and he gave in to the gentle tug easily as you pulled his lips back to yours. The heat built between you again and you let out a small sigh as Daryl’s lips wandered from yours to kiss your neck and the delicate skin by your collarbone, his fingers tangling roughly into your hair. You found yourself arching into him more and more and Daryl was reeling as your fingernails lightly scratched his back, even over the fabric of his shirt. But the building heat was quickly quashed by the sound of the squeaky metal hinges on the door to the stairwell and both of you startled. Daryl spun around and you jumped up from your spot on the table, accidentally knocking the mug of tea to the floor, which of course shattered and sent liquid splashing everywhere. Your entire face flushed as you saw Glenn standing in the doorway with a surprised look on his face, one hand still on the doorknob.

“Uhhhhh... sorry,” he mumbled. But his face quickly broke into a grin he tried to stifle. “I’ll just—I’m gonna go,” he said jutting a thumb back over his shoulder, unable to keep the amusement out of his voice. Daryl shifted uncomfortably next to you. Glenn turned on his heel and headed right back down the stairs and into the cellblock again.

Rick, unable to sleep with the threat of the Governor still looming, caught sight of him returning and gave him a questioning look. “I thought you were on guard duty now?” he asked curiously. Glenn smiled and laughed a little awkwardly. “Uhh, yeah, but uhh—Y/N and Daryl have got it,” he said, his eyebrows lifting. “Y/N and Daryl? Isn’t she still pissed at him?” the sheriff asked, looping one thumb into his pocket. Glenn laughed again. “I’m pretty sure they made up... Night, Rick.”

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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justcourttee · 3 years

Note

Adrien asks mari out and she says i would of been so happy in the past but now its too little to late. She's engaged to Damian but they haven't announced it yet

Bittersweet

It had been a while since Adrien had found himself in Gotham City. Too many years to count on his hand. Yet when he received an invite from Marinette he didn’t hesitate to hop on the next flight to attend her gala.

He had no idea that she had created a partnership with Wayne Enterprises, in fact, he had no idea they were interested in the fashion world at all. Then again, why should he be surprised? When Marinette put her mind to something, nothing would get in her way.

Ever since he had taken over his father’s company, Adrien hadn’t had much time to keep up with his old school friends but it hadn’t stopped them from trying to keep him in the loop. From what he could gather, Alya and Nino would also be attending, Rose and Juleka too. It would be nice to see them all again, especially Marinette.

Stepping out from the warmth of his hotel room and into the cool streets, Adrien couldn’t help but let his mind drift to thoughts of her.

It took Marinette moving to the States for him to realize how much he was in love with her. It was something he never wanted to admit seeing how much he adored Ladybug, but as she disappeared from his grasps, he was left to face his true feelings.

Glancing at his phone, Adrien confirmed that he was mere minutes away from the address she had listed. The gala was still a few days away, but Marinette asked if he had wanted to meet up for a late-night coffee, a Gotham specialty. Even her scarf that she had gifted him ages ago couldn’t hide the red on his cheeks as he imagined the perfect date with the girl of his dreams.

He paused, reaching the door of Deja Brew, his heart beating a million miles a minute. Somewhere in this late-night shop was his best friend. How would she react to seeing him again? Would she be as excited as he was? Would she feel the same way as she did?

Taking a deep breath, he pushed through the door, his eyes glancing through the scattered exhausted customers until they landed on her. She still hadn’t noticed his presence, her nose buried into her sketchbook, her coffee still steaming beside her seemingly untouched.

She was early.

The thought almost drew a laugh as he approached the counter to place his order. Of course she would have finally picked up some time management skills by now. Marinette was 27 and slowly making a name for herself as the future of the fashion industry. That wasn’t something accomplished by constant tardiness.

He picked up his cup, placing a ten into the tip jar, the hostess’ raised eyebrows making him smile. He could already hear his father scolding him. After all, that wasn’t the way to becoming a billionaire. You only make money by holding onto it.

Honestly, Adrien didn’t understand why he had to be a billionaire. His father said it would raise the bar for their line, but it just wasn’t in Adrien’s heart to hoard all of the money unnecessarily. Maybe the Waynes offered Marinette the same advice. Maybe they had something they could relate to together.

“Excuse me ma’am, is this seat taken?”

His heart had finally slowed down but as her eyes slowly peeked up at him under her lashes, it immediately began somersaulting once more.

“Oh Gods, Adrien!” She was out of her seat before he even had the chance to set down his coffee, her arms flung around his neck. He hoped and prayed she couldn’t feel his chest threatening to explode. “You should have said something! I’ve gotten into the bad habit of zoning out in public places.”

Her smile was blinding as she unwound herself, slipping back into her seat, motioning for him to sit as well.

“How was the flight? Did you fly private or first class?”

Adrien gasped, his hand covering his chest as if she had shot him.

“I only flew business thank you very much.” Marinette’s look of mock disbelief earned a small chuckle.

“That must have been so hard for you. I really am sorry you went through so much trouble for my sake.”

“You know, I would go through so much more for you Marinette.”

Her smile faltered for a moment, so quick that if he hadn’t been staring so hard at her, he might have missed it. Did his statement make her uncomfortable? He had only meant it jokingly with the truth laced in, but he was sure his eyes gave him away. They always softened when it came to her.

Marinette cleared her voice, her true smile shining once more as if the falter never happened in the first place.

“You’ve missed so much, I don’t even know where to start.”

“How about from the beginning?” She nodded as she dove into her move to the States and how she began as an intern for the CEO, Tim Drake, years ago and slowly worked her way up to personal assistant.

She recounted how Tim found her sketchbook at work one day and showed it to his father. Together they agreed that she was their way into the fashion industry, an investment that could open the door to many more jobs for the Gotham citizens.

It took two years, but she finally had a full line that was presented at Bruce’s first fashion show.

“So many big names were there Adrien! I really thought I was gonna faint!”

His smile became softer and softer as she recounted meeting the rest of the Waynes and finally after six long years, she had made enough of a name for herself to be holding her own official Gala, the Wayne’s simply a sponsor.

“That’s amazing Marinette, you’re amazing.”

She beamed proudly, her smile pulling at his heart.

“I couldn’t have done it without them. They are genuine and kind people and they are pretty much family.” Something glistened in her eyes as she spoke of them. It could have been obvious to anyone, Marinette cared so deeply for these people.

It was Adrien’s turn to falter as an ugly thought passed.

She’s so comfortable here, she would never want to come back to Paris with me.

He was shocked with himself. This was no time for jealousy. His best friend, the love of his life, was excitedly telling him about a future she had built for herself and the only thing he could think was that it was an obstacle keeping her from him?

Adrien desperately wanted to smack his own forehead, but for Marinette’s sake he straightened out his smile instead.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve only been talking about myself! What’s new with you? How’s your dad’s business? Do you have anyone you’re seeing?”

His eyebrow raised at the last question. She asked the question he so desperately wanted to ask her. And she did it so casually, equating it to his work and social life. Did that mean she was also fishing for his response?

“Nothing much. Dad wants to move from a multi-million dollar business to a multi-billion dollar business so he’s been pretty aggressive about money lately. He didn’t even want me flying over here for the gala.”

Marinette snorted much to his amusement. She knew how his dad was and how petty he could be as well.

“And as for your last question,” he paused watching her face carefully. “No, I am not seeing anyone.”

He waited for the reaction, any reaction really. But none came. Instead, she simply nodded as if she expected as much. Maybe he had read into it too much. She really could’ve just been asking for the sake of catching up. Should he ask too? Was that what she was leading up to?

Adrien cleared his throat before taking a long draw from his cup. This was so nerve wracking. She looked so content, so grown. This was a Marinette who had grown leaps and bounds while he was still stuck in this high school romance that was quite possibly one-sided.

“Well, I hate to cut it short but it’s going to be a long day tomorrow and Damian will be here any moment to pick me up.”

She slid out of her seat so effortlessly, her sketch book snapping shut before it disappeared into a bag that he hadn’t even noticed. Her smile was just as warm as he remembered, but something was missing from the girl he loved.

“Your eyes.” The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop himself. Marinette’s smile faltered as she tentatively reached up to touch her eyelid, confusion etching it’s way into her face.

“Is there something near my eyes Adrien?”

“No, no, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I just-” Adrien bit his lip, trying to string his thoughts together before he sounded even more like an idiot. “You used to stare at me with such soft look. I’m sorry I never noticed, but once I did, it was all I could see. Yet now-”

He trailed off as her lips drew into an o, her hand moving slowly from her eye to her lips, trying to hide her shock.

“-now, I can still feel the love in them, love directed at me, but it’s not the same love is it?”

She looked like she wanted to say something, but she couldn't find the right words. He knew she was trying to explain that he was wrong, but couldn’t bring herself to lie. It was the only confirmation he needed.

He slid out of the booth, his hand grasping the scarf slipping from his neck.

“Marinette, I was so excited when you invited me out tonight. In fact, I thought of it as a date.” She tried to reach out, but Adrien took a step back, tears brimming in his eyes. “I don’t blame you at all, please don’t think I’m saying all this to make you feel guilty. I just had to get it off my chest.”

Adrien blinked hard, trying to spill the tears clouding his vision. This was harder to say than he thought. Her eyes were so distracting, the sympathy oozing toward him in waves.

“I love you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I know you’ve made your life here and I would never dream of taking that from you. Hell, if you asked me to, I would drop everything to be at your side in an instance. Is there any chance at all that after the gala ends, we could give this a shot? Just one real date. Not some deluded fantasy I created in my head, but something we both consent to.”

He flinched when her hand finally made contact with his upper arm.

“Adrien, I love you. I really do. But you were right when you said my eyes had changed. That soft look is meant for someone else now. He and I had tried to keep our relationship quiet, but tomorrow at the gala, I was going to announce my engagement to Damian.”

Adrien couldn’t help the small sob that left his mouth. He was painfully aware of the few scattered glances all directed toward him, but he couldn’t help it. He felt Marinette pulling his head down until it laid resting on her shoulder, her small arms wrapping around his figure. It was embarrassing how hard he cried, unable to hold back his sobs any longer.

“I’m so sorry Adrien, I had no idea your feelings had changed. You were always chasing after a dream when we were younger and when I left Paris, I had finally decided that there wasn’t a chance after all between us.”

He knew she meant her words as a comfort, a promise that at one point, she would have gladly accepted his offer. Why couldn’t he have seen it earlier? Why was he so blinded by a partner who never even revealed herself right to the end? He had someone who trusted and loved him with all of their being and he ignored their feelings for a what if.

Adrien slowly pulled himself from her grasp, his smile shaky. He took a moment to use the end of his scarf to dry his soaked face.

“I’m glad you told me that Marinette. I really am. And I hope you and Damian have a long and prosperous life together.”

Her eyes widened, her mouth forming the wait, but he was already out of the door, running. It was a cowards move, one he would mull over all night. But it was too painful to look into the eyes of one you love and only find pity reflecting in them.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“So you came?”

Adrien turned, his smile bittersweet as he embraced Alya, his fist connecting with Nino’s outstretched hand.

“How could I not support her? She’s worked so hard to make this a reality. My feelings can take a backburner for one night.”Their eyes all trailed to the center of the room where she stood, her arm threaded through with the man he assumed to be Damian Wayne. “Besides, you can tell. She loves that man beside her more than anything in this world.”

The glint of the ring on her finger caused an aching in his heart. Despite it all, he really did wish the Wayne boy no ill will. If he was who Marinette chose to spend the rest of her life with, then Adrien trusted her decision.

“I’ve never seen her smile so bright. And to think, I used to believe her smile was at its maximum blindlingness.” Nino’s chuckle earned a small chuckle from Adrien as well.

There was no denying it.

Marinette was where she belonged. The only thing left was for him to support her in any way that he could. And that was exactly what he planned to do.

Permanent Tag List:

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#daminette #maribat #miraculous ladybug

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

All Nighter

Previous Parts: Extracurricular Teacher’s Pet

Warnings: noncon/rape; drinking/drunkenness; name calling;

This is a dark! fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Pairing: (Professor) Ransom Drysdale x Reader

Summary: Your academic worries are compounded by your personal dilemma.

Note: Yeah, yeah, yeah. I caved and we get a third part.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Halfway through the lesson, you excused yourself. As Ransom waited at the front and students scoured over an excerpt of Catcher in the Rye, he sent you another jarring message. It was time.

You stood carefully, the skirt offering little coverage and knowing you were about to be even more exposed. You ducked down as you walked along the front row and disappeared through the door.

You went to the restroom and locked yourself in a stall. Your phone vibed again, still clutched tightly in your hand. ‘Show me.’ He demanded and even in font, the words made you shudder.

You sighed and held your phone out at an angle with one hand as you opened the camera. You directed the lense to your skirt and tugged it up until your purple panties were exposed. You shimmied as you slid them down on either side with your fingers and let them fall past the top of your stockings. You ended the recording and hit send before collecting your crumpled underwear.

You folded them and shoved them up your sleeve and locked your phone. You returned to the class, unnoticed, and sat in your seat with your head down. You bent back the cover of the book and tried to focus on the passage. You could hear Ransom as he rocked in the old office chair.

You peeked up at him as he held his phone up. His face was blank as he watched the screen. His finger tapped the phone and he nodded. He lowered his cell and his eye caught yours before you could shy away. He winked and cleared his throat.

“Alright, everyone, let’s start with a brief summary. Who wants to begin?” He stood and approached the podium again. “Go ahead.”

You blinked and realised he was pointing at you. You let out a prolonged uh and shuffled your book dumbly.

“Um, in this chapter, uh, Holden tells us about his neighbour, Jane, and um,” you squirmed a Ransom stared at you and you felt the attention of every other student in the lecture hall, “As the chapter progresses we learn that Holden has shared with her things, like Allie’s baseball glove, that he hasn’t with anyone else and in turn, eh, erm, Jane’s character disassembles and both Holden and the reader wonder after her alcoholic stepfather and even if he has… a-abused her. Holden prefers to think of her, however, as innocent, and accepts a not very convincing denial. Really, he hears what he wants to and goes on without a single--” You stopped as you began to ramble. “Yeah, that’s it.”

Ransom appeared amused and leaned on the podium. “Okay. Any other interpretations?”

He looked around and you deflated in your chair. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want to be talking about Jane and her vile stepfather, and you didn’t want your professor to keep looking between your legs. But just like Holden, Ransom couldn’t see anything but his own male ego. Anyone else was just a stepping stone in his grand American narrative.

🖊️

When class ended, you were as eager as any other to be gone. The two-hour block at seven in the evening was hardly anyone’s ideal, even if it was a weeknight. You slid your notebook away and the used edition of Salinger. You dropped the pens into the side pocket of your worn messenger bag and stood to watch your peers flood out of the classroom.

You wanted badly to be on your way and for an instant, you had a glimmer of hope that you might. But then you heard the deep breath and your name was called from behind you.

“Just a minute,” he said with all pretense of deceiving any stragglers, “You seem to be missing a page from your assignment.”

You turned slowly and left your bag in the seat. You neared him and your nostrils flared as your gaze met his. It wasn’t even your paper he held. You swallowed back your reticence and pretended to look at the essay.

“Oh, sorry.” You said as he peered over your shoulder.

“Go on,” he lowered his voice as the upper doors finally closed with a heavy clank.

You cringed and reached up your sleeve and pulled out your panties. You let them fall onto the folder and he poked his fingers through the fabric and stretched them out. He hummed and rubbed the cotton between his fingers.

“You got anything sexier?” He snatched them up and shoved them in his pocket. “I thought you college girls were funner than that.”

You glared at him and crossed your eyes. “Right, is that everything?”

“Don’t,” he warned, “Sweetie, I don’t like that tone.”

You huffed and rolled your eyes. He shuffled away his papers as you retreated to grab your own bag. You headed for the door as you unfolded your jacket from over your arm.

“Where are you going? I didn’t dismiss you.” He called from behind you. You turned back and stared at him.

“I have class in the morning.” You said.

“And?” He scoffed. “It’s only nine.”

You were quiet as he approached you. You wanted so badly to scream and hit him. He was a frat boy with tenure. He was as slimy and shady as every guy on campus and you had been deluded enough to think that age and title would change a spoiled brat with a silver spoon still lodged firmly in his mouth. Oh, the naive romanticism of a sophomore.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked.

He snickered and kept on as you backed away from him. He had you against the door as he slapped his hand above your shoulders and loomed over you. He leaned in as his other hand played with the bottom of your shirt.

“Because I can.” He purred, “And because I love the look in your eyes as I’m balls deep.”

“Ew,” you slapped his chest but he didn’t flinch. He merely grabbed your arm and spun you around as he pushed the door open behind you.

“Good thing you took those panties off,” he sneered, “You won’t be needing them.”

🖊️

You spent the car ride hunched against the passenger door, wishing you were anywhere else. Ransom let the radio fill the silence as he barely seemed to recall your presence. He steered with one hand, unbothered by the tension between you. As he pulled up to his house, its tall glass windows and geometric structure thrust you into a whirlwind of deja vu.

He killed the engine and rounded as you remained in your seat. You were too numb to do anything but sit there and stare at the house. You remembered patches of that night; stumbling up the walk, Ransom carrying you up stairs, his body against yours, the disorienting pain of his intrusion.

The door opened and you nearly fell out of the car. The seatbelt kept you from your descent and you unbuckled it as Ransom grabbed your arm and dragged you out into the crisp autumn evening. Your boots tapped melodically as he led you up the paved walk and you found it hard to think straight.

“Wait, wait,” you stopped as you reached the threshold, “No, Ransom, Professor… this is… wrong. You can’t--”

“For such a quiet little bitch you sure don’t shut the fuck up,” he snarled as he unlocked the door, one hand still on your arm. Your blood froze as you thought of your bag on the floor of the car, your phone buried in the side pocket. “Come on.”

“No, please,” you wriggled in his grasp, “You can’t keep doing this to me. I’ll… I’ll tell.”

“Not if I tell first,” he said coolly and bent to sling you over his shoulder. “Now let’s give you something to tell about.”

He pushed through the door and slapped your ass as he carried you inside. You kicked and writhed over his shoulder as he strode into the front room. The lights shone as they were triggered by some unseen sensor.

He carried you to the modern sofa with its flat cushions and low back, and dropped you onto it gruffly. You bounced and bit your tongue painfully.

“Don’t make me tear those clothes off or you won’t have anything to wear in the morning,” he warned as he kicked off his leather boots and paced along the broad windows that formed the front wall of the room. He shrugged off his jacket and hung it on a rack in the corner and turned back to you. “Well…”

You bent to unzip your boots and shoved them aside. You heard a clink and looked over your shoulder. Ransom stood behind the small bar along the far wall and plunked a glass on top.

“Seem to loosen up with a few drinks in you,” he pulled out another tumblr and a bottle of dark whiskey. “This stuffs a lot better than that toilet water they serve in the club.”

You ignored him and stood to remove your jacket. You realised that there was no way out. You kept trying to convince yourself there was but that only made it worse. You hung your coat beside his as he watched you closely and gave a measured pour.

“Here,” he slid a glass across the bar. “Drink up, sweetie.”

“I’m not thirsty,” you ignored him and walked nervously back to the sofa. Was it better to have it done with?

“I don’t care what you want now get over here and drink,” he growled. “Or I’ll force it down that pretty little throat myself.”

You blanched and slowly crossed to the bar. You took the short glass and raised it, the alcohol made your nose tingle. He watched you as he drained his own tumbler. You tossed it back in three stinging gulps and coughed as you set the glass back on the bar. He chuckled and poured again, but didn’t add any to his empty glass.

“Again.” He ordered.

“Please, I can’t--” You waved your hand as you touched your raw throat. He stared at you and his jaw twitched. You pouted and lifted the glass again. You drank with tears in your eyes and gasped as you swigged it down. “There.” You choked as you planted the tumblr on the bar top.

He reached over as if to pour some more and grinned as he hovered the bottle over your glass. He laughed and lowered it down onto its base instead. “Good girl.” He came out from behind the bar and neared you, drawing you away with him. “But you’re not naked yet.”

He thrust you ahead of him and you stumbled to the sofa. Your wits were buzzing from the whiskey and your empty stomach rolled. You hadn’t eaten since the early afternoon, right before your second lecture. You were wholly unprepared for the alcohol and the man before you.

You reached and tugged at the bottom of your turtleneck. You pulled it up and freed your head from it with a grunt. You dropped it onto the sofa and Ransom touched your shoulder where he’d bit you days before. It was still tender and made you wince. You unbuttoned your skirt and pushed the zipper down. It fell to your ankles without much effort.

Ransom’s hands went to your chest and he fondled your tits through your plain bra. He reached around you and unhooked it easily, yanking it down your arms and flinging it away. His fingers danced along your side and you hooked your thumb under the top of your stockings.

“Uh uh,” he tutted, “Keep those on.”

You retracted your hand and he gripped your shoulders. He pushed until you sat on the sofa and he backed away slightly. His tongue poked out as he took you in and he grinned. He pulled his knit sweater over his head and threw it on the floor. He made quick work of his undershirt and revealed his muscled torso. You squeezed your legs together and stared at your knees.

“We both know those college boys are nothing compared to me, sweetie,” he teased as you heard the buckle of his belt. “It’s okay, you can have a peek.”

You didn’t say anything as you listened to him strip. When he neared, you couldn’t bring yourself to look up. He grabbed your chin and forced your head up. His other hand moved below your vision as he stroked himself.

“Get up,” he demanded and you stood with a sway. The whiskey stormed inside of you.

His hand fell to your arm and he dragged you away from the sofa. He directed you towards the tall windows and you shivered as you got closer. He stopped you before the glass and brought your hands up and planted them against the window. You felt the chill through it as he grasped your hips and drew your feet back. You stared out onto the drive, the street barely visible just beyond the curve, although you could see the lights of the neighbour’s house.

“What--”

“Shhh,” he tickled your spine and groped your ass roughly. “Stay just like that, sweetie.”

He slipped his hand down and kicked your feet apart. He felt along your folds and you shivered as his warmth contrasted against the cold seeping through the glass. Bumps rose along your skin as he poked around your entrance.

“Wet, already.” He tisked, “I thought you were a good girl.”

You shook your head and closed your eyes as he reached to your clit and rubbed it with two fingers. You gasped as he teased you and drew back to shove a finger inside you. He grabbed your shoulder as your back arched and stepped closer. He pulled his hand away and prodded you with his tip again.

“Professor…” You hissed.

His hand went to the back of your neck and he pushed your face against the glass as he slowly forced his tip inside of you. You groaned and turned so that your cheek rested against the cool window and he impaled you entirely. You slapped the glass and your fingers curled as he filled you.

“Ah,” you whined and he bucked so that your whole body quaked.

“Still so fucking tight,” he rocked against you as his thick breaths surrounded you. “You had me hard all night, sweetie. I could barely fucking stand straight.”

He tilted his hips into you as you were on tiptoes and your legs began to tremble beneath you. You clung to the glass, afraid you might collapse. He nuzzled your head and growled as sped up. You moaned without thinking as your walls clenched around him.

“That’s it,” he hummed and dropped his hand from your neck, trailing both along your chest and stomach. He hunched over you as he felt around the back of your thighs and panted into your hair. “You can play coy all you want but your cunt says it all.”

His hands stretched across your thighs and you exclaimed as he suddenly scooped you up. He bent your legs to your chest as he lifted you and your fingertips slid along the glass. He hooked his arms under your knees and opened you up as he hammered into you from below.

He stepped closer to the window and you braced yourself against it as your reflection stared back at you. The inky dark was clouded by the glare of the light inside and revealed to you your shame. Your eyes drifted down and you saw how easily he slid in and out of you.

Your legs tensed around his arms and your breath hitched. You shut your eyes as your mouth fell open and felt your core bloom. You were close, so close, and you needed to cum. You didn’t care that it was him or that it was here; you had to.

You kept one hand on the window and snaked your other down to your cunt. You flicked circles around your clit as the sound of your flesh mingled with his. He crashed into you harder and harder and snarled into your neck.

“You fucking slut,” he rasped, “You touching yourself? Huh? You fucking like it.” He pulled your legs further apart until your hips rang with pain. “Bad girl.”

You spasmed and came with a squeak. You felt yourself dripping down his cock as the warmth leaked from you. You smacked your slick hand against the window again and bit down on your lip as he rutted into you with gristly grunts.

“Say it. You’re a bad girl.” He puffed.

“Wha--”

“Say it,” he slammed into you hard.

“I’m-- I’m a… bad… girl,” you choked out. “Oh, oh, I’m bad.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he said frantically and stilled you. He sniffed and held you on him. “Get…” His voice trailed off and he lifted you from him.

He lowered you swiftly and your legs wobbled dangerously beneath you. He grabbed the back of your neck and forced you to your knees. He brought you close as he stroked himself desperately.

“I’m gonna cum on your tits, sweetie,” he moaned, “I’m gonna--”

He grunted and strings of cum erupted from him as he angled his dick over you. His cum spurted over your chest and shoulders, even along your chin and cheek as his body shook and his fingers sank into your neck. He twitched as he slowed his hand and sighed as he let his cock bob freely before him.

“Mmm,” he let go of you and looked down at you with a smirk, “You look amazing covered in me.”

He ran his hands over his chest and exhaled. You tried to stand and he caught your shoulder. “Crawl.” He ordered. “Get on the sofa and wait for me, sweetie.” He ran his finger through the cum along your cheek, “I won’t be long.”

🖊️

You woke in a fog. Your thighs, your hips, your cunt all ached. Your eyes fluttered open and you stared up at the pristine white ceiling. You were sprawled flat on the stiff sofa, alone. Your mouth was dry and your tongue tasted of flesh and alcohol. You groaned and sat up as your head reverberated. The sky outside was a dull grey and the clock above the door read just before seven. Fuck.

Your name floated in from the doorway at the other end of the room. You hung your head and stood. You took the throw draped over the back of the chair beside the couch and covered yourself. You neared the arch and peeked inside. Ransom poured a cup of coffee from a French press.

“You’re gonna be late if you don’t get your ass in gear,” he said smugly as he pushed the mug across the island.

You grumbled and crossed to the marble counter. You climbed up onto a tall stool and winced at the tenderness between your legs. The coffee smelled delicious as your stomach churned.

“Don’t worry, you can ride with me,” he taunted. “What time you done today?”

You frowned and took a boiling sip, barely noticing how the coffee seared your tongue. “Four… why?”

“Hmm, that’ll be a long day,” he said. “But not… too long.”

His cryptic words made you scowl and he left you without explanation. He returned with a pink box and his phone. He placed both on the counter. You watched him, confused, and he eased the lid off the box. Inside, was a silicon plug in hot pink. You shook your head.

“No.” You said firmly.

“It’s for your cunt, calm down,” he said.

“No,” you repeated and cradled your mug. “Ransom…”

“Professor. I think I prefer ‘professor’. It’s… proper.”

You snorted and rolled your eyes. He flicked his finger over his phone and it unlocked. He tapped and you leaned on your elbow. He pressed his finger against the centre of the circle that appeared and the box began to buzz as the plug vibrated. He dragged his finger around the circle and the toy intensified. You blinked.

“We’ll save that fun for class tomorrow night,” he licked his lip, “For now, you just need to… adjust.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, come on. You take me well enough.” He slithered. “Gotta have you ready… I have a break just after five. I expect you can hit pause on your studying for a visit.”

You were stunned. You set the cup down and rubbed your cheeks as you tried to process it all.

“You’re disgusting.” You sneered.

“Oh,” he closed the app and searched through his phone. He turned it to you and hit place, “So are you, sweetie.”

You squinted as you saw yourself against the glass, your tits bouncing as Ransom fucked you from behind, his own face hidden by the angle of the security camera. You swallowed and your hands went to your neck as your skin burned with humiliation.

“You…” you were speechless and tore your eyes way from his phone.

“I have a lot more than that,” he assured you as he spun the phone back to him and watched the footage with a leer, “Hurry up.” He locked the screen. “Or I’ll make sure we’re both late.”

#ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #fic #series #extracurricular #teacher's pet #all nighter #dark fic #dark!fic #knives out #au #professor au #professor!AU #professor ransom drysdale

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shorkbrian · 4 years

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Hello I went to IKEA yesterday and got myself a BLÅHAJ (giant plush shark) now I have TWO giant shark plushies on my bed and I’m in heaven. ANyways it got me thinking? A yandere and plushies??

Warnings - NSFW, non con, dub con, Tamaki is a voyuer without your consent, Kirishima is sweet but deluded, Bakugou is mean but caring, and Dabi is straight up AwfulTM

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KIRISHIMA

Would be so soft, notice how you have plushies littering your bed at home so he’ll buy you some. Even if you’re the kind of person who doesn’t have plushies crowding their bed, he’s still gonna buy them for you.

He likes giving them to you, thinks it’s romantic when he presents them with a bundle of flowers. You think it’s anything but, yet still accept the stuffed animal begrudgingly because it’s so soft and cuddly.

It becomes a comfort object, something you can’t seem to let go of. If you’re watching tv, the stuffed animal is on the couch too. Making food? The plushie is set next to you on the counter where you can grab it. At night-time it’s clutched in your arms, suffocated against your chest the very same way Kiri clutches you to his.

Getting fucked silly? The plushie is crushed in your arms as you cry, and Kiri thinks it’s so cute and it makes his heart clench. Something about it makes him go wild, maybe it’s how small you seem, how innocent with a stuffed animal wrapped in your arms as if it could protect you from his relentless kisses.

He loves you so much, he’s always buying you plushies. Kirishima catches on the fact that they’re a comfort object for you, something that you use to ground yourself when something stresses you out.

He always brings your biggest plushie to you when he’s gonna fuck you hard, like the kind, considerate man he is. It’s so big that you can wrap both arms around it while you sob, while he ruts into you like a wild animal.

Likes laying you over your plushie and watches you cry into it as he fucks you so good you’re screaming in ecstasy. Kiri especially loves fucking you early in the morning or late at night, turns you on your side and has sleepy sex while you sniffle and hold your stuffed animal.

He accidentally rips one of them one time while he’s fucking you, he got too excited and wanted to see your face as you came, tried to pull the plushie out of your arms and ended up ripping it in half.

You had cried so hard and he felt so bad, bought you ten more plushies and giant candy bar to make up for it. For the next few weeks he was so, so gentle with you, pushing down his primal urges to get feral and use you like a whore whenever he saw you being unwittingly cute and sexy as you went about your day.

Although, to be honest it’s not hard for you to be sexy. You bend over and he wants to rip off your clothes, bury himself into your pussy. You stretch to get a glass off a high shelf and he wants to lift you onto the counter, make you kneel so he can eat out your pussy. You literally walk across the floor and the big man is salivating at the sight of your breasts bouncing slightly underneath your top, wants to pull and suck at them until they’re red and sore. But like a good loevr, he holds himself back and only pulls you to the bedroom and treats you gently. For a few weeks at least, until he can’t take it anymore.

Then it’s back to rabid fuck-sessions whenever you do so much as breathe

If you upset him (please try not to), The plushie will get ripped out of your hands, discarded onto the floor. He won't let you grab it before he’s lifting you up against the wall, tearing off your shorts and sheathing his cock inside of you.

When that happens, you have nothing left to hold but him. Kirishima doesn’t like getting upset with you, but deep down he really relishes the way you grab and clutch at him like he’s your lifeline.

BAKUGOU

Doesn’t really think much about it, but maybe he sees a cute ad or something pretty in a store window and it reminds him of you. Probably he saw the plushie bought it for you cause he wants to see you holding it.

Gives it to you, but doesn’t really think much of it after that. Thinks it’s cute how you had blushed when he pulled the silky soft stuffed animal out of the bag. You had been surprised, because usually Bakugou is buying you lewd outfits or lingerie, not cute plushies. You were honestly kind of grateful that you wouldn’t have to model your gift for the man; he always insisted you do with everything else he bought for you.

It doesn’t bother him that you leave it on the bed. Honestly, he doesn’t even think of it. But when he sees you tucking it underneath the covers like a little kid, he gets lost in thought.

Dude probably hadn’t even thought about kids, but seeing you be so soft and sweet to a inanimate toy had him fantasizing about the future with you. You would be a great mother, and he’d be a good father.

And that’s how Bakugou ends up with a breeding kink.

When he crawls over you the first night, groaning about making a kid that’d be so smart and strong and great, you panic. You don’t want a kid with him, he’s volatile and explosive and abusive, it’s a recipe for disaster.

You beg and cry and plead with him to keep you on the pill, and you do to so sweetly and utterly humiliate yourself while doing so, and Bakugou can’t tell you no. So he promises that it won’t happen just yet.

But if you’re bad? He’s gonna hold you down and fuck into you so fast that you get dizzy, threaten to flush the birth control pills down the toilet. He runs his mouth, goes on and on about how he’ll fuck you until you’re swollen with his kids, how your tits will get so big and round and full of milk and he’ll suck and bite at them everyday.

After that threat, you try your hardest to always be good.

TAMAKI

Obviously is too shy to kidnap you just yet. The ravenette gets you one of those nanny-cam bears, one that has a camera inside without it being obvious.

He stutters as he gives it to you, ears bright red, shuffling his shoes and not able to meet your eyes. Says its because the little animal reminded him of you, that they’re his favorite and immediately bites his tongue after he admits that.

You probably think it’s cute, smile as he pushes it into your hands. You can’t tell that the poor man is almost cumming in his pants when his hands brush against your arm. You know he’s shy, so it’s not surprising that he immediately bolts as soon as he’s given you the stuffed animal.

A camera doesn’t even cross your mind, Tamaki too innocent and you too trusting. The stuffed animal gets placed in your armchair, the one in your bedroom that you sit in to read. Lucky for Tamaki, it faces your bed.

He watches you quite a lot, laying down in his own bed with his laptop on the nightstand. The man likes to imagine the two of you sharing the same bed, but can’t get far without blushing and covering his face with a pillow at the slightest dirty thought.

When you masturbate for the first time, Tamaki cries. He cries because he’d been watching you ever since you got in bed, had watched as you slowly kicked off your shorts and had cum the second you peeled your panties down. He cries because he’s overstimulated, unable to stop jerking his cock as he watches you pleasure yourself, the man almost numb and shaking as he orgasms for the third time in half an hour.

By the time you finish, Tamaki is blubbering, can’t stop watching, can’t stop pumping his overstimulated cock in time to your fingers plunging into your pussy.

He doesn’t turn his TV on anymore.

DABI

Is the type to get some awful, scratchy, over-filled abomination like the stuffed animals you get from the fair. It’s an ugly one, horribly deformed and badly sewn, eyes bulging and one of it’s limbs shorter than the others.

Probably doesn’t think to give it to you until he’s headed home, knows it’s what couples do and thinks that maybe you’ll stop screaming when he touches you.

He barely got his dick out one time and you had cried so hard you passed out. Now if he goes anywhere near you you’re immediately alert, wide eyes never leaving him. If he so much as touches you he has to be prepared for you to scream and cry and try to bite him.

He guesses that’s what happens when you kidnap someone.

Getting you a stuffed animal does not make anything better.

But Dabi’s tired of you refusing him, of you crying and being a little bitch. He’s been blueballed for the past two weeks, just because he was trying to be nice and let you adjust.

So he takes the deformed stuffed animal he stole and shoves it in your mouth.

It muffles your cries while he grinds his dick into your sensitive walls, and really, that’s all he needs. You feel so good, Dabi doesn’t care that behind your makeshift gag you’re cursing his existence.

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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 3 years

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You Can’t Get Better Than A Thrombey

Summary- 4.7 Ransom x You. You and Ransom have a good thing going. Friends with benefits and nothing more. But Ransom’s selfish ways end up ruining it, and you are done. Gone. You moved on with your life. Until one traveling night that brings you back to the city you had left behind, and of course Ransom Drysdale shows up. Written for @imanuglywombat Wombat’s Ugly 4k Challenge.

Warnings- This fic has a spousal cheating element to it. Please do not read if that bothers you. Other warnings, Smut, Male receiving Oral and Swears.

A/N- Thank you @imanuglywombat for the wonderful challenge! It was so much fun. Congratulations on your follower count babes.

A/N Two- Moodboard Wombat made is at the very bottom of the fic, and the lyrics used for second prompt, Good Luck by Basement Jaxx will be in italiacs through the fic.

A/N three- if just occurred to me that the whole "you cant get better then a thrombey" came from @jtargaryen18 series Naughty Ransom Holiday Tales, which her Ransom Drysdale series is top tier and absolutely should go read. It's one of my favorites. Probably why the line got stuck in my head.

“Come on Baby, just one more.” Ransom hissed against your ear, his tongue swiping over the shell of your ear while tightening his hold on your throat, your sobs coming out half strangled from needing to come on his cock that he kept pounding into you. Feet planted on the plush hotel carpet, his thrusts into your cunt had you gasping with need while your channel fluttered around his cock. He grasped your hand that was currently buried in his hair and wrenched your hand down to press against your stomach. “Feel that Kitten, how I’m rearranging your guts and fucking you useless for anyone else?”

Your head nodded, as much as he allowed with the hold on your throat, causing his fingers to flex, closing around your throat tighter till you were seeing sparks blossom in your sight and that's when you couldn't hold back anymore. Behind you, Ransom's sweaty chest clung like wrap to your back, vibrating as he grunted against your shoulder. You ended up flooding his cock, gushing on your thighs and slicking against his as he pounded you harder now, grabbing your hips and rutting you now to reach his end. Leaving your limp body to be rag-dolled in his lap till he shot himself inside of you to paint your walls, and you both fell back against the ruined California King bed, the sheets sex sweat stained from earlier.

Gasping breaths and heaving chests were the only sound in the overheated room, and you eased off him, your back peeling away to roll next to him with a groan. You peeked at him from where you had buried your head against the crook of your arm, and admired the flushed cheeks, and still tensing tendons in his neck, his hair was all disheveled and out of its usual place from where he always had it groomed back. “Mmh, what are you staring at?” He questioned before turning to look at you, his ridiculously long lashes were swept against his cheek for half a second before cold crystal cerulean’s looked at you inquiring.

“I'm looking at your post orgasm face.” You respond, and prop a hand under your head once you turn to your side. “It's a good look on you Ransom, one of your better ones.”

He arched a brow as he reached over, tracing the curve of your breast before tugging on a still sensitive nipple to make you gasp, and shove your hand against his shoulder making him smirk in his signature way. “Fucking glad you approve, maybe we should do this more often.”

“Well next time you're in the city, give me a call.” You say swinging up to sit on the edge of the bed, looking around at your discarded clothing.

“And where the fuck you going?” He tugged you back to tumble into the bed, rolling over you so you could feel his thighs wedge yours apart and his hips drop into place. You fold your arms across your chest and huff, looking up at him as he braced himself above you, tendrils of sweaty hair falling over his forehead.

“You can't be serious Ransom, again? I have to go back to my apartment. I have a work meeting tomorrow with my bosses.” You state matter of fact. “Besides, whatever happened to that no sleeping over rule?”

“Who says I'm letting you sleep? I barely get to come to the city anyways.” He lowered over you, pressing his soft pillowed lips in all your weakest spots on your shoulder and neck, a hand sliding between your thighs and into slick folds. Fuck this man, your mind thought till it went blank again in the sensation of his fingers so expertly playing between your petals that you already were stretching your thighs wider for him. “I haven't thoroughly fucked you yet.”

“God I hate you.” You moaned out as you felt your resolve fluttering into his favor, the metal of his pinkie rubbed against your clit and a long finger stretched you open once more.

“Well this sure isn't love Kitten, cause I'm about to destroy you. Admit it Y/N, you haven't had anything better than me.” He expertly gave you those long fingered strokes that had you keening his name, losing your entire resolve.

“That's my girl…” He praised above you while you grabbed his biceps and started to climb to the heavens all over again.

❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕

A knock on the door disturbed your sleep. You stirred in confusion against the overly soft pillow that wasn't at all familiar. You lifted your head in confusion, looking around when another knock came, and you heard Ransom yell from the bathroom, snapping it open. “Fuck, will be right there.”

You clutched the sheet and sat up, rubbing at your eyes while he brought in a cart with covered trays. “I didn't think you would ever get up Y/N.” He said while wheeling it to a table, and it occurred to you that the sun was awful bright.

“Oh shit, Ransom, what time is it?” You shoot across the bed, looking desperately for your cell phone, and he gives a shrug while lifting the cover off one tray.

“Hell if I know… 10? 11?” he says while grabbing a piece of toast and biting the corner while you are moving aside pillows trying to find your phone.

“Ransom!” You snagged your phone from under a pillow, and checked the notifications. Closing your eyes in frustration. “It's more like 1 in the afternoon, and I was supposed to have a meeting at 10. I set my alarm.”

Ransom strode over to you as you were typing out a message to your office hurriedly. “Oh, yea I might have silenced it this morning. The fucking thing wouldn’t stop chirping.”

Your eyes lifted from your screen and said with utmost disbelief. “You… silenced it?”

“It was so fucking early and woke me up Y/N.” Like you had inconvenienced him. “I don’t know why you set the fucking thing anyways.” He said, and you felt rage well up in your chest, pushing up out of the bed, and grabbed at your clothes.

“You did it this time Ransom. You are a fuck buddy, and yet you take the whole thing quite literally don’t you.” You grab at your panties, shoving them on and then snatch your bra. “Fucked me over on the most important meeting of my life, I should have known better then to answer your fucking text.” You are ranting to yourself, searching for your skirt.

Ransom seems confused at your words, starting to follow you around. “You’re mad because of that job? I’ve told you a hundred times to come on as Harlan's assistant. He’s been looking for years and you would be perfect. Probably pay you better and you can come to my place more often.” His tone turned cocky while saying this, his gift to you apparently.

You pushed past Ransom without even saying anything, grabbing your shirt and shoving it over your head. “You sold me down the river now Ransom.” You grab at your heels and slip them on while reading the message on your phone sent back from your office. Basically telling you to get your ass in because the boss wanted to see you. Breathing out in defeat. “I hope you’re feeling happy now.” You drop it in your bag while he gives an exaggerated eye roll at you.

“Come on Y/N, It's not the end of the world.” He grasped your arm to stop you storming out, and you hiss at him.

“You don't get it Ransom do you, I worked hard for this, my whole fucking life. And I let you ruin it for me. I should be mad at you but it would be such a waste of energy on you. So I’m mad at myself more.” You look him up and down while wrenching your arm out of his grasp, and look up at him, committing him to memory, this exact expression of his. Signature sneer crossing his face that edged on his face with a smirk like he would fix this problem with the easiest way possible. It might have worked with another woman, one who thought that he ‘Loved Her’ but you were not fooled, there was no love between you. This was a way to scratch an itch. One that you needed to break away from. Now that the damage was done.

“We’re all done Ransom, I can’t keep doing this shit anymore with you. The consequences outweigh the benefits of sleeping with you.” You started towards the door and you felt him spin you around, pressing you against the door.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Kitten?” He sneered down at you, and when you tried to push him away, he slammed you back into the door with a dull thud. “You don't throw away a good thing Sweetheart.”

You catch your breath, the hard masculine body crushing against you was all too familiar, and up to his expression that looked like he had won you over. Now you always have a sneer in your smile Ransom, you thought to yourself, thinking you have actual control over me. Your hands planted against his chest, and his gaze darkened as you made him back away from you with resolve. “But wake up, Baby, You’re so totally deluded… I'm throwing away this good thing right now.” Turning away, you were quick to open the door and look over your shoulder. “Don’t bother fucking calling me anymore.”

With a quick snap out the door, as you walked down the five star hotel hallway, you heard Ransom rip open the door and poke his head out. “Don't worry about me calling you Kitten, not like you are the only lay I can get in this town.”

You didn't even bother answering as you stepped on the elevator. Your last sight of him was striding towards the elevator doors as they shut, staring back at him coldly as he shouted your name and the doors blocked him from you, now your reflection staring coldly back at you in the steel doors as the elevator brought you to the lobby.

❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕

That would be the last time you saw him in a couple years. You ended up losing your job that day, and decided that it wasn't just Ransom you needed to change in your life, but all of it. You put out resumes all over New England and found someone to take over the lease to your apartment. Within a couple months from that night, you were moving out of the city and to a small suburb, house, lawn and everything. You went to work as a legal aide at a small law firm. Dates happened here and there, but you didn't let any of them get close in the way Ransom was. Eventually dating turned into a matter of convenience for you. You settled finally. A lawyer that chased after you for a while, Neil. He made an excellent lover and you two were comfortable, you even loved him in a way. Just like he loved you in a way. He had long hours, and you always traveled. It became a relationship of sorts for you two.

This evening you sat in the swanky Boston bar, another business trip for the firm, sipping from a second gin and tonic while scanning the room when you saw a sight you never thought you would see again.

One Ransom Drysdale came in with some slim waisted woman clinging to him, chatting away but you could tell just from the way he scanned the room that he wasn't even paying attention to her. When his gaze fell on you, his brows arched in surprise, but then they darkened and he whispered to his companion. When she split away towards a table, he strode over to you sitting at the bar.

“Never thought I would see you slumming in this part of town again.” He said slowly while waving the bartender over. “You look good Y/N.” He said in a matter of fact tone, and you raked a gaze over him. In the two years you hadn’t seen him, he barely changed. Still wore the high end clothes, and that camel colored coat that was so soft to the touch, that pinkie ring shone just a bit in the low light. “Another gin and tonic for her to.” in which your drink was switched out with a fresh one.

“Business Hugh.” You snipped out, catching him scowl at mention of his name. How you got a thrill knowing how much he hated it. “And you don't look bad yourself. Still living that trust fund life, it treats you good.” You thanked the bartender and sipped from the much stronger gin and tonic now, feeling the tendrils of heat curl in your veins from the alcohol.

“Well I will have you know not entirely a trust fund life now.” He remarked your words back to you while he leaned in closer, his hand sliding along your thigh in that all too familiar way of his. “I took over part of Blood Like Wine just to piss Walt off. But I enjoy it, and have been doing some writing myself with Harlan’s help.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, tilting your head towards him. “You actually got serious in life? I’m impressed.”

Ransom shrugged while twirling his glass, the bits of ice clinking in the glass. “Got bored, needed something to do Y/N.”

You laughed hearing him, and glanced over your shoulder. “Isn’t your date waiting on your Ransom?”

He looked over his shoulder at the woman he had come in with, shaking his head. “Nah, she will be fine. See, she already is eyeing up someone else.” He stated, watching as his previous date scooted over, letting someone sit in the booth with her. Ransom turned back to you and smirked, settling in comfortably next to you. “Guess we actually get to catch up.” You didn't send him away, in fact you two fell back into easy conversation talking about the past two years. The evening turned to night, and the bartender gave you two the cut off. Before you could excuse yourself to leave, Ransom reached out and caught your wrist to keep you from getting up.

“Looks like I'm free tonight, what do you say… one more for old times sake?”

You pondered his offer, the last swallow of gin and tonic was probably that last push as you glanced at your old lover. His eyes showed promise that it would be good, and you knew full well that he had every right to be cocky. Setting your glass down, you nod.

“Old times sake… but this is it Drysdale.”

You two escaped the bar, Ransom knowing the streets like the back of his hand. It was like the old days when you two messed around, familiar in the sense you knew that you two would hit the subway. You hated riding in the beamer around the city, and he was well aware of it. Teasing looks and touches were shared on the subway, once in a while a dirty kiss before splitting apart. “Fuck you taste good Kitten.” He muttered your old nickname against your neck as he sucked a mark against your pulse. “So addictive.” You hide a grin in against his shoulder hearing him.

The thing that ended up surprising you was when Ransom didn't pull you to one of your regular meetup Hotels, but an actual apartment building. “What is this?” You stalled as he hit the numbers in the pad on the side of the building to be let in.

“I moved into the city. Made more sense then having to travel all the fucking time.” Pulling you into the building and steering you to the elevator, he crowded into you once the doors shut on you two. Your head tilted back to let him skim those lips over your pulse once more and tug your ear between sharp teeth, needy fingers bunching under your sweater, and trailing fire against your skin till his touch turned into a press of fingertips biting into your curves. Your hands fisted in his cashmere sweater, brushing your face against the hard planes of his jawline, sighing in such a needy way, its been so fucking long since you’ve felt this. Felt that physical urge to just get lost in the most primal of ways.

You two crashed into the apartment, tugging at each others clothes and stumbling into the walls, pushing back and forth till you shoved Ransom hard against the hallway wall, rolling into him with a clash of teeth and hisses when his hand fist in your hair, pulling you away to march you two closer to the bedroom, his enormous body crowding you where he wanted you. “Come on Kitten, remind me how good that mouth was again.”

You didn't hesitate to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor and your hands twisted in his trousers to tug at the button and zipper, yanking them down his legs till he stepped from them. “Open.” Ransom demanded while wrapping his hand around his hard cock and jerked it while you looked up at him with a begging expression, you wanted it, him. You tongue fell out to accept his offering. Perhaps you should have felt shame at your desperate actions, at how easily you turned into a whore for Ransom. You had been in a committed relationship with Neil for six months, and here you were breaking it all for a man you sworn yourself from. Ransom was not gentle about taking you apart either, which you had craved his demanding nature the past two years. His cock pressed past your lips into your wet heat, making you widen around him till he hit the back of your throat making you sputter. You tried to pull away instinctively but he held you there for a few seconds till you relaxed. “Thatta girl Kitten.” Ransom praised and his hips started to thrust into your mouth.

“Fuck I missed seeing you like this.” He grunted as he moved your head back and forth, his hands digging into your scalp and fucked into your mouth. You clenched your thighs underneath yourself, wanting to hide that desire to grind into anything for the friction, completely growing wet with the way he just fucked your mouth how he wanted. You slurped on his cock, hollowing your cheeks to tighten around him, fluttering your tongue against that thick vein while he pressed your mouth to take more, and your nose ended up against the tight dark pubic curls, drool dripped down your chin to leave you ruined looking.

“Grinding yourself against your thigh Slut, I can see those hips moving.” He yanked you off his cock, your tongue darting to kitten lick the red tip while looking up at him as your hands rubbed up and down his muscular thighs while he jerked himself. Seeing he was close you tipped back further as his hold allowed, whining.

“Yes I am Ransom, fuck you for making me this way.” You whined out as you shifted your hips, rubbing your cunt as hard as possible against the back of your foreleg, wanting to get that fulfillment.

He squeezed himself slightly to keep from cumming and dragged you back to your feet, snapping a hand against your ass to get you moving “Then let's take care of that Kitten.” Your fingers dipped into your waistband of your panties shimming them down while Ransom grabbed palmfuls of your ass and ground his cock between your cheeks. “I got to get inside you…” He panted into the curve of your neck and as soon as you reached the bedroom, he pressed you against the dresser just inside the door. Pulling your ass out and his cock pressed between slick folds, pushing himself into you, both of you sighed in relief at the familiar sensation. You stretched around him till you were full of him, and him feeling you wrapped around him so tight, your cunt seemed to swallow him.

He took you from behind, rattling the dresser with each pounding thrust, his hands digging permanent marks into your hips in a ruthless way. A way you had missed, hard demanding ruts, banging your hips into the hardwood of the dresser and your hands tried finding purchase against the wood when he angled and found that sweet spot that only he seemed to be able to find. Making you keen his name and he snapped his teeth, clenching his jaw till the tendons of his neck strained with the power he was slamming into you.

“That was all it took to flood my cock, Kitten, you must be needy.”

You sagged against the dresser but he wasn't over with you yet, it had been years since he had you with him. Man handling you to the bed, you went to your back and he fell over you. Snapping kisses against the sensitive part of your chest to the tops of your breasts, his hand dragged your bra down, the bands straining and lifting your chest off the bed while you dug your hands into his hair, pulling it hard enough for him to moan into your skin and his teeth sink into the top of your breast.

“Ransom, no more marks.” You tried to stop him but he muttered something between the curves, drawing a swipe till he got to your nipple, latching on and pulling on it for it to swell.

“Yea yea, got a boyfriend you can’t let see.” He said in a joking manner as a hand moved underneath you to release your bra, and he shifted your hips to settle underneath him. You slipped your hands along his chest, and curled around his neck, shrugging a shoulder.

“Perhaps, just don't mark me up.” you snapped, and he smothered you again, lip biting kisses as he thrust into you, your legs wrapping around his slender hips, and pulling him in closer.

As his hips rocked into you, slower than before dragging himself back and forth, he lifted to his elbows, looking down at you as you bit your lip, pressing your head back. “What's his name?”

Your eyes spring open as your fingers dig into his back. “W-what Ransom?”

He pressed forward, pinning you into the mattress while grinding into you. “His fucking name Kitten, what is it?” This time when you look up at him, you can see his mouth set in a thin line, and ground himself into you, making you clench around him.

“Why does it matter?” your nails loosen slightly and drag down his back. “You never cared before.”

Ransom then blessed you with that signature smirk, and moved his hand to your throat to tighten, and tighten enough to make you gasp out, the move making you flutter around him. “Because Kitten.” His mouth lowered over yours, teeth sinking into your lip and tongue filling your mouth and stealing the last air from your lungs. “I know you, you will never be satisfied with settling down Y/N. It's not in you. These past two years, have you actually been satisfied like this.”

“A lot changes in those two years Ransom.” You gasped into his mouth, fighting him back now after his words, working your hips back to meet him with each thrust. “Oh better to be like you? Just fucking around. You’ll end up old and lonely without someone in your life.” Your tongue lapped at the roof of his mouth and your eyes rolled up feeling him splitting you apart.

“Come on Kitten, you're not telling me you didn't miss this? Us? You are all I have ever needed, you know that.” Ransom demanded, and you shuddered under him, cumming just then, his hand around your neck tightened all that much further while he chased his own ending this time. Pushing you up the bed till you both were buried in the pillows. Soon you felt him paint your walls, burying himself into you till his body crushed yours down into the mattress, your thighs quivering around his waist and you were panting against his shoulder, trying to catch your breath. He lifted his head to look down at you, a brow arched waiting for an answer. “So?”

Your fingers slid up his back and over his shoulders, staring back up at him, wrinkling your nose at him. “Why do you have to make this anything more then a good one last time fuck?” You pushed on his shoulders to turn him to his back and straddled him, covering his mouth. “Just shut the fuck up, okay?”

Ransom's teeth sank into your palm, while grasping your hips and lifting you to sink you onto him.

“Make me Kitten.” he hissed at you in challenge.

❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕

It was early morning when you both were tangled around each other, the sheets pushed off the bed, and you were using Ransom more as your blanket, soaking in that post sex haze that made you all limp. He was half snoring in your hair and you were staring at the ceiling. You closed your eyes with shame and disgust with yourself, since you were going to have to make some lame excuse to Neil about why you didn't answer your phone. As well as why you weren't at your hotel last night.

“I can hear you thinking” Ransom groaned from above you, and you tilted your head up to see an early morning beard starting to prickle his skin, and you shifted to pull back, giving a bit of space while resettling yourself to face him properly.

“You asked me last night if there was someone. There is Ransom… we've been dating just about six months. And he’s a good person, a decent man.”

He rubbed at his face to open his eyes and be able to focus on you, still sleep laced as he spoke once more. “And Y/N? Why are you worried? It's not like we haven’t done this plenty of times, dating someone or not.”

You worried your lip, sighing with a shake of your head. “That hasn't been me since I moved, I left it all behind when I left Boston. But then you come right back, and I’m stupid enough to fuck around with you again. Am I ever going to get you out of my system?”

That made him smirk, and lean into you, kissing you dirty so early in the morning. “Now you're making yourself sound like one of those crazy bitches on the ID channel. Should I be worried about you?”

You snorted against his kiss, pressing him against his chest to make him fall back into his spot in the bed. “If you didn’t get a bullet in your head already after the last time, you should know you're safe.”

His arm circled around your waist, his thumb sweeping back and forth across the small of your back. “I'm glad I’m forgiven for last time Y/N. And this changes nothing that you do with whatever his name is.”

You reached forward and let your fingers trail along the planes of his pecs, feeling guilty, but not regretting it, not really. Ransom had always fulfilled something in you that no one else ever was able to.

“Yea I guess you're forgiven, although it was still a shitty thing to do. Come on, even you have to admit that Ransom. And his name is Neil.” You pushed to hear him admit he was in the wrong, and he rolled his eyes at you, sliding his hand to grasp an ass cheek and squeeze it in his palm.

“Did I just have to say that last time for you to forgive me Kitten? Cause fuck, two years is a long time.”

You chuckle and shake your head. “No, I fucking hated you back then. I would have still left, I’m just now tolerating you.” You pulled back and moved to sit up at the edge of the bed. “And now I gotta call Neil with some lie about where I was.”

Ransom moved to the other side, reaching for his boxers to slip on. “Just tell him you met up with an old friend Y/N.”

You pushed off from the bed and tugged the first shirt you found, Ransom's sweater while leaving the bedroom to talk to Neil. With luck, he didn't answer, and you just left a message to call you back and that you were safe, that you had met up with some old girlfriends. Glancing around, it occurred to you that Ransom really did live here, not just stay here on occasion. There was mail on the counter, books and manuscripts on the coffee table in the living room, and coats hanging near the door, an abandoned dirty coffee mug near the sink. You started to pick up the clothing you two had scattered through the apartment when Ransom came out, watching you for a moment while leaning against the wall.

“Reach the boyfriend?” He said matter of fact, which you straightened, and glanced back at him while folding some clothes and shaking your head.

“No, but I should probably get ready to go, I'm supposed to be driving home today.” you pluck at his sweater you're wearing and he strides across the room, his fingers sliding under your chin to lift your gaze back up.

“You know Kitten we will never really be done with each other.” He said, tilting his head. “Week from now, five years down the road, it doesn't matter when it happens again. So lose the guilt, it's not good for you. It's just the way it is.”

He was right, you knew he was right and part of you hated him for the fact that he was right. “After all, you don't get anything better than a Thrombey, Kitten.”

Fuck this man for having this hold on you.

Moodboard Prompt- The City

#uglywombat4kchallenge #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale fic #knives out au #knives out fic #knives out #ransom drysdale au #amber writes #sweater writes

645 notes · View notes

stylesluxx · 4 years

Text

imprint – p.lahote

[warnings: angst, swearing, an anxiety attack]

summary: in which y/n thinks it's just the imprint talking | part two

word count: 6,171

masterlist

"Long night?"

You sighed and turned around to face your best friend. You've known Jacob for as long as you can remember. You went to the same schools (you begged your parents to keep you together) and his house was a two-minute walk from yours.

"Very," You nodded and turned back around to shove your chemistry textbook in your locker.

"I can't believe you spend your nights looking through this stupid textbook."

"I can't believe you think it's okay to bother me at 8 AM," You retorted playfully and shut your locker.

"Don't be friends with me then," He shrugged and wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you started walking to your first class.

"I hope those two idiots are on time."

"Embry and Quil? On-time? Come on, Y/N, let's be realistic here."

You laughed and shook your head as you walked into your Spanish class. You happily greeted your teacher and sat in your usual spot in the middle of the class. Jake took the seat next to you and you looked over at the empty seats Quil and Embry would later occupy.

The bell rang, signifying the start of the first period and you felt Jacob move to take your backpack off your back.

"You really must be tired," He chuckled and set the bag next to your seat.

"You have no idea," You yawned and put your hand up to cover your mouth.

Quil and Embry ran into the room, panting and heaving, right after the morning announcements ceased.

"Typical," You mumbled.

They apologized to the teacher for disrupting the class before moving to their seats. As they walked in front of your table, you stuff a foot out and watched Quil trip and push Embry forward involuntarily.

"Watch it, you clumsy idiot!" Embry whisper-yelled, making you giggle.

"It was Y/N's fault. She tripped me," Quil argued as they both took their seats.

Quil and Embry were a package deal. One summer you went to Boston to visit some family and when you came back, Jacob had made some new friends. At the age of eight, you were used to having Jacob all to yourself but the two idiots refused to leave you alone once you came back just in time for school. The two boys grew on you fairly quickly (they brought you candy every day to get on your good side) and the four of you grew super close, they were practically your brothers.

You glanced around the classroom to see if anyone was distracted by the two idiots but at this point, no one bothered paying the two any attention.

You noticed there was one empty seat left and you realized the spot belonged to Paul Lahote.

Paul Lahote was an enigma. Well, only to you. Everyone knew he was hotheaded and cocky but there was something about him that pulled you in. As deluded as it sounded, you believed there to be another side to Paul Lahote.

You looked away from the empty seat and fixed your eyes on the classroom door opening and closing. There he was, in all his glory.

Jacob scoffed and rolled his eyes as he watched you become entranced in the boy you had a crush on.

"Still don't know what you see in him," Jacob whispered.

"I have a thing for unrequited love," You shrugged.

Paul would usually walk in with a boastful smirk on his face but today it was replaced with a frown and his eyebrows were furrowed in discomfort.

He quietly talked to the teacher and handed her a note. She nodded and took the piece of paper from him, setting it on her desk.

He kept his head down as he trudged over to his seat by the window and sat down. His head immediately met the table, his arms in between his head and the desk to give him some comfort.

"Have you guys ever thought about setting alarms?"

You scoffed at this question that was directed toward Embry and Quil. It was lunchtime and your hand was moving fast, trying to finish your Spanish homework so you wouldn't have to waste time doing it at home.

"Ashley, do you think they've ever even heard of alarm clocks?" You questioned.

Ashley was first introduced to the group during freshman year. She was new to La Push but had no issue walking up to you and asking for a friend.

"I figured since it's the first day, we could just be each other's comfort," She shrugged.

Of course, she didn't know about the boys but she was soon introduced to them during gym class. Quil embarrassingly kicked a ball directly in her face, causing her to turn red, clearly infuriated.

"Of course this happens on the first day," You sighed and ran over to her. "Are you okay? I'm really sorry about my friend. He was born uncoordinated."

"Yeah, no kidding," She huffed and rubbed her red cheek that was beginning to swell.

She was still making Quil pay for the incident. Every time she wanted something from him, she'd milk the remind him of "the most tragic moment in La Push history."

She wanted him to get lunch for her?

"Quil, remember when you almost shattered my face? Well, I do. It was the first day of high school. Can you go get me lunch?”

He’d just sigh and shake his head before standing up and doing whatever she asked.

While Embry and Quil argued over whose fault it was that they were always late, Ashley turned to you, head on palm and elbow on the table.

"So how's day one million of crushing on Paul Lahote?" She teased and of course, Jacob just rolled his eyes.

You reached over and tugged at his long hair gently, making him swat your hand away.

"Day one million of my ordinary life is going great," You nodded with a smile.

"You do realize, he's just your typical arrogant asshole, correct?" Embry spoke up.

"Well, it's not like I'll ever have to deal with it. As if he'd even think about talking to me," You blew a raspberry and scooped up a spoonful of the rice sitting on your plate.

"Speak of the devil," Ashley grinned and elbowed your ribs, making you jolt up from your sulking position.

You watched as he practically dragged himself over to the lunch line and grabbed a tray.

Any other day you'd watch his pretty brown eyes follow around the prettiest girls at school and give them a wink. Any other day, your heart would drop to your ass and you'd sigh in defeat. But today his bright smile stayed hidden and you watched as he scowled uncomfortably.

"Looks like someone's in a bad mood today," Quil observed.

"Oh, thank you, Captain Obvious. What was the giveaway?" Ashley quipped, her and Quil rolling their eyes at the same time.

"You guys realize he's human and can have a bad day, right?" You asked and watched him flop into a seat at an empty table.

"Oh really? I would've thought he was a god the way he walked around here," Jacob spoke sarcastically while chewing his food.

"He's just... misunderstood."

—

Days went by and Paul just stopped coming to school. The day after he came in looking out of place, he came to school two periods in, and then the day after that he just left school early. That was the last time you saw him.

For the first couple of days, you looked for him but after a week, you just gave up. Weeks went by and there was no sign of him, you just hoped that he was okay.

"Still have hope your little boyfriend isn't a high school dropout?" Jacob teased as he saw you look over at Paul's empty seat.

"Are you obsessed with him?" You rolled your eyes and hit his water bottle obnoxiously, knocking it down. "You guys always bring him up. Are you sure you're not the one crushing on him?”

"Don't disrespect me. If I was interested in guys, it definitely wouldn't be Lahote; I love myself enough."

You rolled your eyes again and scoffed before telling him to “just shut up.”

Once the bell finished ringing, Embry and Quil rushed in claiming they weren't late. Quil learned to walk behind your table instead of in front and tugged at your hair.

"Jackass," You mumbled and rubbed your head.

15 minutes into the lesson, the door opened and shut but you didn't bother to lift your head until you heard the voice.

"I apologize for being late," He spoke smoothly and your head whipped up in shock.

You watched the boy hand a note to the teacher with a smug grin on his face.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Jacob mumbled and raised an eyebrow.

"He looks much better," You mumbled back as you watched him confidently walk through the classroom and claim his seat.

"Yeah, and he got all muscly and tall. How do you gain that much height so quickly?"

"And you're sure you don't have a crush on him?"

But Jacob was right. When Paul disappeared he was scrawny and 5'11" but now he was muscular and at least 6'4". And was that a tattoo? He wore a shirt that showed off his muscles and a tattoo that wasn't there when he disappeared.

Once Spanish class let out everyone rushed out the classroom and in the doorway, you spotted Jared Cameron. Paul walked out ahead of you and met Jared, punching his shoulder playfully and laughing at whatever his newfound friend had said.

And now that you saw the two together, you remembered that Jared too disappeared earlier that year. He was in your second-period math class and one day he was there and the next he wasn't. He also looked sick the days leading up to his absence and came back taller and muscular. You looked closely and saw they both had the same tattoo in the same spot.

"Don't stare too hard, Creep," You heard Embry's voice.

You shoved him away before turning around and walking to your next period.

The day slowly dragged on and before you knew it you were in chemistry, the dreadful class right before lunch. You listened to your teacher drone on and on about something you didn't understand. By the end of the lesson you realized you'd have to skip lunch to get some help, so you sent the group chat a quick text before grabbing your things and moving to the front of the classroom. You sat down and politely asked the teacher for help, which she happily agreed to.

You were in the middle of balancing a formula when you heard feet shuffling into the classroom.

"Do you mind if I pick up some of the work I missed? It's all been excused."

"Sure, Paul. Let me head upstairs and grab it from my office. Just wait here," The teacher said and stood up from the chair. "And keep going Y/N, you're doing great!"

You nodded and kept your eyes on your paper as she retreated from the classroom. You finished the problem you were on and started working on the next one but you were stumped. This problem was nothing like the first and different rules had to be applied.

"I can't," You muttered to yourself and tossed your pencil down on the desk.

You pulled away from the desk and raised your head to look at the board in front of you but your eyes met another pair.

You weren't expecting Paul to be leaning against the board directly in front of you, his arms crossed over his chest. He must've looked over when he heard you speak and your eyes met coincidentally.

You gave him a forced and awkward smile when you realized he wasn't looking away. His arms fell to his sides and his mouth gaped as he continued to stare.

"Uh, are you alright?" You asked him and gave him a concerned look.

Before he could answer, the chem teacher came back in the room with a stack of papers in her hands. Paul quickly turned his attention to her, grabbed the papers, and whispered a soft thank you before bolting out of the room.

You felt your cheeks grow hot in embarrassment and turned your focus back to the paper in front of you.

For the rest of the day, you tried to push that moment to the back of your mind. You couldn't believe that was your first encounter with Paul. You were so embarrassed you weren't even going to tell your friends because you knew you'd never hear the end of it.

The rest of the day and into the next goes completely uneventful until it's time for lunch.

You were at your locker with Jacob, switching out notebooks and binders, teasing him about how he was drooling in his sleep during first period.

"You were snoring too," You lied, trying to get a reaction out of him.

"You are such a liar. What do you even gain from lying?"

You laughed and went to respond but were cut off by the view of Paul Lahote walking in your direction. He turned to look at Jared who just shooed him over with a hand motion, before turning back around, his eyes on you.

You ignored Jacob trying to regain your attention and gave Paul a gentle smile and prayed you wouldn't embarrass yourself.

"Hi, I'm Paul. Lahote. Paul Lahote. I've never really introduced myself which is weird because you're... stunning and we're in the same grade and I think we have some classes together," He babbled on nervously, making your eyebrows crinkle while you tried to keep up with what he was saying.

"I'm Y/N," You cut off his rambling and reached your hand out for him to shake.

He looked at it for a second before looking back at you with a smile and reaching his hand out to meet yours. You stood like this for a few moments, your hand in his and his eyes on you in awe.

Jacob cleared his throat and pulled Paul out of his trance as he turned to glare at Jacob, dropping your hand in the process.

"Is there something you needed?" You saved Jacob from Paul's death glare with this question.

Paul's head snapped toward you and he started to grow red in embarrassment or nervousness, you couldn't tell.

"I was, uh, I was wondering if you'd go on a date with me?"

You lightly gasped, unnoticeable to anyone but you, and your eyes slightly widened.

"O-oh wow," You mumbled and bent your head to look at the binder in your hands, trying to avoid the three sets of eyes on you. You felt the heat rise to your face and a shy smile grow. You weren't used to this type of attention especially from the boy you've been crushing on for three years, so you were a mix of nervous and shocked and happy. You were feeling everything at once.

"Only if you want to!" He started to backtrack when you didn't give him an answer.

You looked back up at him and shook your head at his words but you realized it looked like you were rejecting him when his face started to fall, disheartened.

"No! I mean, no, I don't mean no. I mean yes, I'll go on a date with you," You stammered, trying to clear everything up.

"Okay cool," He nodded and his pretty smile returned to his face. "I'll pick you up Saturday at noon?"

"Yeah, okay, sounds good."

"Okay cool," He repeated before walking away, making sure to give you a shy wave as he went toward Jared.

"What... the hell was that?" Jacob broke his silence and looked at you wide-eyed as you kept your eyes on Paul's retreating figure.

"Looks like I got a date."

—

The days leading up to your date had to be the most delightful days you've ever experienced while in high school.

On Wednesday morning, you were greeted by a smiley Paul who was leaning against your locker.

"Good morning," You smiled as he moved off your locker and leaned on the one next to yours.

"Morning! I thought I'd walk you to first period."

"Oh wow, you'll be early to class today," You teased, making him laugh and nod.

On Thursday, Paul walked you to class again; of course, you weren't complaining, you'd take any opportunity to talk to him. On this day, he met you at the doorway of the chem room and walked you to the cafeteria.

You thanked him as he opened the door for you and got hot in the face when you saw Ashley give you a wink and a thumbs up from the lunch table.

He kept you company as you waited in the lunch line and separated once you sat at your table, softly bidding you a good rest of the day.

And on Friday, everything was repeated but with a new addition.

Paul was waiting for you in the lobby and usually, Jacob would be trailing behind you but it was boys night for the boys and girls night for you and Ashley. So Jacob was catching a ride with Embry and Quil and Ashley was already waiting by your Jeep.

"Do you just want my schedule so you won't have to wait longer than you need to?" You asked him with a playful smirk.

"Then I'd officially be stalking you," He played along and followed you outside. He took your umbrella from your hands, opened it, and held it over your head to shield you from the rain.

"Are you always such a gentleman?" You giggled and looked up at him, his eyes already set on you and filled with admiration. "And it's not stalking if I want to be pursued."

"Oh really?" He raised an eyebrow.

You turned away and gave Ashley a quick smile once you reached the car.

"Do you need a ride?" You asked the boy next to you, turning back to face him.

"No, I've got a ride with Jared. But I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Can't wait," You confirmed and took the umbrella from his hands.

You shut the umbrella and got in the car as Paul walked over to Jared. You set the umbrella on the floor in the back and your backpack on the seat. Ashley followed your lead and punched your shoulder in excitement.

"Stop it," You whined and rubbed your shoulder.

As you pulled out of the parking spot, you drove by Paul and gave him one last wave before driving home to start the weekend.

Paul arrived the next day at exactly noon. When you heard the doorbell ring throughout the house, you sprinted down the stairs to make sure neither of your parents got there before you. You already told them you were going out with a friend earlier in the week but they assumed it was one of the dorks you usually spent your time with and you let them think that. You didn't want to introduce them to Paul just for things to not work out. It even took you a while to introduce them to Ashley. People meeting your parents is a sacred thing, a rite of passage if you will.

"You look gorgeous. You are gorgeous!" He greeted you with a bright smile.

"Thank you, though I'm just wearing jeans and a sweatshirt," You shrugged and shut the door behind you. "No offense, but you look tired. Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Oh no, it's okay," He shook his head and his eyes fell toward the ground while he thought of a response. "I just was anxious about the date is all. Couldn't really sleep much."

He walked you over to his truck and opened the door for you, which you thanked him for, before going over to the driver's side. "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Try to get some rest tonight. Some tea usually helps me. I'll give you a couple of my relaxation teabags when you bring me back home. Just remind me," You spoke softly while giving him a concerned look. "Will do," He nodded and pulled out of your driveway.

He brought you to your favorite diner in all of Washington and was super polite. He was opening the doors for you, pulling out your seat, and even paid for the meal even though you argued against it. And though he was tired, he was clinging onto every word you said, leaning in to show he was interested. "Is that your favorite food?" He asked once the waiter took your orders. "No, but I do enjoy it," You shrugged. "What's your favorite food then?" "I like any kind of pasta," You said after pondering for a moment. "Spaghetti, ravioli, lasagna, and anything else." And that's how it went the whole time. Paul would ask you questions, trying to get to know you in any way possible and you'd answer and ask him questions.

It was fun, there was never a dull moment, and even when things were getting quiet, he'd crack a joke that'd make you burst into laughter. It was the perfect date in your eyes; he was so polite and caring or maybe it was just you giving your crush more credit than he deserved, but that still didn't change how you felt.

When Monday came around, Paul was at your locker and classes, waiting for you and walking with you. At lunch, he was standing by your chem class with a Tupperware bowl in his hand and a nervous demeanor.

"Hey, what's that?" You asked and pointed to the bowl he was gripping onto tightly.

"I, uh, I brought you pasta. It's spaghetti. You said that pasta was your favorite food so I kinda made you some. Well, I helped make it," He nervously stumbled over his words, making you giggle. You stopped walking once you got to your table and he held his arms straight out, handing the bowl to you. "Here you go."

You felt the heat rise to your face once again and you took the bowl from him. You glanced down at the bowl before looking back up at him and pulling him into a hug.

"This was so beyond thoughtful. Thank you so much," You praised him and rubbed his back with your free hand. You pulled away and held the bowl up to your eyes so you could see the food. You set your hands back by your waist again and locked eyes with his, both sets of eyes filled with amazement. "This was so sweet."

"Anything for you," He nodded.

"I'll give it back to you right after lunch. I promise," You told him and held out a pinky.

He chuckled and grabbed onto your pinky with his own, "I believe you."

He let go of you and walked off to sit with Jared but you kept your eyes on him and watched his friend grab onto his shoulders and shake him happily.

You turned to your table and sat down, already replaying what just happened in your mind.

"Wow," Embry started.

"I've never seen you that cheesy before," Jacob chortled.

"I've never seen Paul that cheesy before," Quil scoffed. "So are you gonna share that?" He asked and pointed to your bowl.

"Anyway, Y/N, how was the date?" Ashley asked, pulling your attention from the boys.

"Oh it was great, he was very sweet! I like him. I told you guys he's not bad like everyone makes him out to be," You swooned at the thought of how you spent your Saturday.

"It's like he can hear you, that stupid grin won't leave his face," Embry observed, making you turn your head to look at Paul.

"So what if he's happy? Y/N's happy," Ashley regained your attention and you nodded at her statement.

"Very happy."

Once you finished up the spaghetti, you excused yourself from the table and went to go rinse it out. You walked over to Jared and Paul's table; Jared was the first to notice since Paul's back was toward you and pointed at you. You gave him a small smile before turning your attention to Paul.

"The food was really good. I rinsed the bowl out but of course, you'll have to wash it when you get home. Thank you again though," You spoke gratefully and handed the bowl back to him.

He took the bowl from you and then you proceeded to lean down and peck his cheek before scurrying back to your table in shock by your actions.

"This is a proud moment for me," Ashley feigned tears and held a hand over her chest, making you laugh.

—

For weeks it seemed like the joy Paul brought to your life was never-ending.

You've gone on a couple more dates which you thoroughly enjoyed. He took you to the movies but fell asleep within the first five minutes. You laughed quietly and shook your head as you rested on his shoulder.

He explained to you how he sometimes has to work overnight shifts at his job, so you didn't fault him for being tired. You tried to cancel the dates and get him to catch up on his sleep, but he insisted on spending time with you, making you adore him even more.

The two of you were in Port Angeles for the next date and while it was freezing, you were both sitting on a bench outside eating ice cream.

"You're not cold?" You looked at Paul as you shivered.

"No, are you?" He asked and you nodded your head quickly. "Come on, let's go sit in my truck."

You stood up and he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into his warmth and hummed happily at the feeling of him.

He opened the door to his truck and helped you get in then shut the door behind you. He got in on the driver's side, turned the car on, and turned the heat on.

"You have that big coat on and you're still cold?" He teased.

"You only have a sweatshirt on and still feel hotter than the sun."

He laughed and watched you lean back in the seat and go back to eating your ice cream. You felt his eyes on you for a while but you kept your eyes on the rain that started to fall outside.

"You know, you could always just ask to take a picture," You teased, looking at him from your peripheral vision.

"Okay." He took his phone from his pocket and faced it toward you. "Smile!"

You turned to him enthusiastically and gave him a big childlike smile before giving him a regular one.

"Let me see," You softly demanded, losing the rush of confidence you just had.

He turned the screen to you and showed you the pictures.

"You're so beautiful," He complimented as he set his new screensaver as a picture of you. The heat automatically rose to your cheeks and giggled happily.

"I could say the same."

You looked up at him and met his eyes, your heart racing, and your stomach full of butterflies.

"Do you mind if I kiss you?" He asked politely, looking from your eyes to your lips, and then back.

"No, not at all," You slightly shook your head and leaned in closer.

He filled in the rest of the space and his lips gently landed on yours. He set his phone down and both of his hands reached up to cup your face. With your eyes shut, you focused on the kiss and how soft his lips were; you knew you were instantly addicted, not wanting to pull away. But you had to breathe, so when you pulled away, you gave him one last peck before coyly turning around to face the windshield and finish your ice cream.

"That was perfect."

—

Paul arrived at your house a week later, pulling you by your hand energetically into the woods.

"Paul, where are we going?" You giggled as you held onto his hand while stepping over a log.

"We're going to the beach but I have to tell you something. Well... show you something. That's why we're walking."

"Oh okay, what is it?"

"So, you've heard the Quileute legends, I'm sure" He started and pushed a tree branch out of the way. "Jacob has probably told you. But what if I told you it was real? And I'm a shapeshifter?"

"Uh, I'd probably laugh," You chuckled and looked up at him.

"Well, it's true. I can, uh, I can show you if you'd like," He stammered nervously and rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

You raised your eyebrows and nodded hesitantly. He pulled his hand from yours and backed up. He shook his head as he kicked his shoes off and stripped out of his clothes.

"Paul?" You questioned.

"Just trust me. I need you to know that I'd never hurt you," He said before he started shaking and getting red all over.

Your eyes widened and your feet moved backward to get some more distance as he leaped into the air and was suddenly on all fours.

"Paul?" You said once more but shakier.

In front of you stood a huge dark silver wolf that was five times larger than your boyfriend that previously stood in front of you. At first, he was intimidating but then once he noticed your frightened expression, he started whining and the wolf tried to come closer.

You wanted to step back but you remember he said he'd never hurt you, so you tried to relax your mind and reached a hand up to pet his head.

He snuggled into your palm and huffed happily. You let out a breath of relief and giggled when he licked your cheek.

"My Paul," You nodded, coming to terms with what is.

He reluctantly pulls away from your touch and goes over to where he left his clothes. He picked his shorts up in his mouth before walking away and going behind a tree somewhere.

You assumed he needed to change back so you grabbed his shirt and sneakers off the ground, but stayed put otherwise.

He jogged back over to you in his human form, already holding his hand out for you to take. You latched onto his hand and he took his sneakers out your hands, but let you keep his shirt.

"So do you believe me?" He asked, sarcasm laced in his voice, as he pulled you along toward the beach.

You nodded but asked the question that sat in the front of your mind. "Does it hurt when you..?" You trailed off, not knowing the right term.

"When I shift?" He finished. "It used to hurt a lot like my whole body was on fire but now it just feels like little pinches all over my body."

"I don't like that, Paul," You frowned and shook your head at the thought of him being in any type of pain.

"Oh, me either, Darling," He said while pulling you closer and kissing your forehead. "Also, you can't tell anyone. Not even Jacob. It's imperative that you don't."

"Okay," You nodded obediently before demonstrating you zipping your mouth closed and tossing the keys somewhere in the trees.

"Silly girl," He smiled.

"And what about Jared?"

"He shifts too. Along with Sam Uley. I'm sure you know him; La Push is only so big. We think Jacob might be next. Him or Embry."

"There's nothing they can do to stop it?" You asked him, worried for your friends.

"If the lee-" He cut himself off. "Sadly, no. If they seem a little off to you, a little more on edge than usual, tell me. And try to get some distance, I don't want you getting hurt if they shift."

You slipped your sneakers off once you got to the beach along with your socks and stuff them into the shoes. You insisted that you sat right there the water would be able to touch your feet but still far enough where your clothes jeans stayed dry.

Paul dragged you out of the house while you were only wearing a tank top on your upper body, so the beach air sent chills throughout your body. You pulled on Paul's plain brown shirt and leaned against him, your own personal heater.

"So being this warm is a wolf thing?" You inquired.

"Yeah," He nodded. "There's also something called imprinting."

"And what's that?"

Paul looked around to see if anyone was close enough to hear but it was 8:00 PM, no one would be here unless it was one of the boys.

"Basically it's like a soulmate; a soulmate mixed with love at first sight. After phasing, I was able to imprint. It was completely involuntary, I didn't have a choice. When you see the person, your person, it's like nothing else matters. They're the reason you've been put on this earth. It's your job to protect them. be whatever they want you to be. A friend, a lover. You just will do anything for them. It hurts to be away from them for too long. You hurt when they hurt," Paul explained while keeping his eyes on the moon ahead of him.

"You know the feeling?" You hesitantly asked while turning to look over at him. You didn't want to ask in case you weren't his imprint but the curiosity took over and you needed to know.

"I imprinted on you. You're my imprint," He confirmed.

"Oh," You breathed out and turned to look at the water that gently touched your toes.

You received a lot of information today. And then to find out that Paul imprinted on you gave you a lot of mixed emotions. You were happy that you found the person you're supposed to be with forever but now you were looking at the whole relationship differently.

"So when did you phase?" You asked, keeping your eyes down.

"You remember when I was out of school for a bit?"

"Mhm," You hummed quietly and nodded.

"That's when. I imprinted on you that day you were getting help in the chem room."

"So..." You trailed off, trying to think of the exact words you wanted to say. "You only asked me out because you imprinted on me?"

"Yes," He answered quickly but then shook his head when he realized what you were trying to get at. "No, I mean no. It's not like that."

"I've had a crush on you since freshman year. I thought you'd finally noticed me and wanted me for me, but I guess it's only because of the imprint," You humorlessly chuckled and held your knees to your chest.

"No, Y/N, it's not like that-"

"Think about it, Paul. You've never noticed me before and our school is so tiny; La Push is only so big like you said. Everyone knows everyone and you still didn't notice me. You would've never even breathed in my direction had it not been for the imprint. I'm only beautiful, or gorgeous... or stunning, because the imprint tells you I am. You don't really think that and you don't really like me. Be honest with yourself," You ranted but still had a soft and gentle voice.

"Y/N..."

"I want to be with someone who chooses to love me. You are forced to love me," You sniffled and wiped your nose with your hand.

It was silent for a while after that and you just let the tears fall down your face. Somewhere deep down you knew everything with Paul was all too good to be true but you ignored it. You believed you were finally getting the fairytale story you deserved. But this wasn't it. It was like some twisted joke the universe was playing on you. And you just wanted someone to hold you. You wanted Paul to hold you and tell you everything would be alright. Despite how you were feeling, you still felt a sense of safety and home around him. But you couldn't fall into that anymore. You were now full-on bawling your eyes out and hiccuping while trying to keep the sobs from escaping your body.

"For your sake, l-let's still be friends. But for m-my sake, very distant friends-"

"Y/N, please-"

"Goodbye, Paul."

You stood up quickly and grabbed your shoes, trudging through the sand. You let a sob escape your mouth once you were a distance away. You felt it getting harder to breathe, so you picked up the pace, wanting to get to your destination before you passed out. There was only one place you could think of going that gave you the same warmth and homeliness you felt in Paul's arms. Jacob's.

[AN: omg I’m so nervous about posting this but I’ve been working on it for weeks and I’m really proud of it. thanks for reading!]

#stylesluxx #paul lahote #twilight #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote x reader #twilight x reader #twilight imagine #wolf pack imagine #Paul Lahote angst #Paul lahote fluff #wolfpack

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

innocence - 29

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: smut (18+, underage DNI)

A/N: its angst season again!!

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky held the old phone against his ear as he waited for Natasha to pass the line onto Steve, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Once again, there were no news coming from them. There’s not enough evidence for us to even make a guess, he’d tell him every time he called the super soldier. It did not matter how many hours he spent on the phone, a team of synthesoids, witches, spies and super soldiers couldn’t bring upon themselves to figure out who was threatening his girlfriend. His mind couldn’t stop going to the worse places. If he didn’t figure it out, who would?

- Buck, we can go through the record off people who got into her building but do we even know if it’s the same person?

- It has to be, Steve. Go through the records, check for anyone who isn’t from the building.

- Have you asked Y/N who she thinks might be?

- No, I didn’t tell her. - he gulped. - I promised her she’d be safe. I’m not gonna tell her.

- That is a ter ... - the line broke down and before he could call out for Steve’s name again, he heard Y/N’s voice right behind him.

- When were you gonna tell me? - she held up the letter in front of his face and he swore all the colour drained from his face. - Bucky, when were you gonna tell me? How long have you known? Where did this come from?

Bucky dropped the phone to the holder, visibly gulping at the sight of his girlfriend holding the letter he had sworn not to let her see. However, except of seeing the fear she had displayed the first time it happened, she was upset, mad even with that hidden type of serene look which he was sure would scare any army. She put the letter on the table, crossing her arms at him.

- It came yesterday. I don’t know if it actually arrived yesterday but that’s when I got it from the post box.

- Why didn’t you tell me? - she sighed looking down at her feet, one hand holding her weight on the table. Bucky’s jaw locked, eyes moving from side to side before he wrapped his hand around her forearm and led her into the bedroom. Last thing he needed was for her whole family to know not only was he terrible at his job, he was also terrible at being her boyfriend. First fight in her parents’ home ... you can’t fuck up any further Barnes. - James, I’m not toying around.

- I thought it wasn’t important. - he lied.

- They found my family home, James. It is important and you hid it from me. Why did you even open my mail?

- I hoped to be able to find who did it before I told you. I didn’t want to ruin your Christmas. - he put his hands in his pocket. She narrowed her eyes at him, arms crossed over her chest.

- Is that why you don’t wanna kiss me or touch me? You ... Do you ... You agree with they called me? - she frowned, her own anger replaced by her own insecurities. Bucky blinked slowly as if he was processing what she had said, not believing the words which had came out of her mouth. - I ... I didn’t mean to be too forward, I jus ...

- No. No, no, no, no ... - he walked so fast he was almost running, holding her by her arms. - No. I don’t agree with them, I would never agree with it.

- Then ... are you really not in the mood and I just made a complete idiot of myself?

- I don’t, no, I just feel like I failed you, failed my job. - he cupped her face in his hands, trying to find her gaze but she refused to look at him. - I don’t want to fail you, everyone but you. I’m sorry I kept it from you, I thought that you’d feel safer if you didn’t know.

- So you thought keeping me in my own delusion was the best thing to do?

- I’m sorry. - he leaned his forehead against hers. She looked up, into his baby blue eyes as her hand hoovered over his arm. - I didn’t want ... I didn’t mean to delude you.

- You didn’t fail me. - she brought his hand up to her lips, kissing the back of it before leaning her face against it. - It is not your fault that letter came in.

- But I should know who it was ... or at least Steve should. He’s proving himself to be quite useless ... - he grumbled on, which made her hold in her laughter by biting the inside of her lip. - I’m sorry, dollface. I really am.

- If you ever kiss my head when I’m trying to kiss you ever again, we will have severe problems. - she pointed her finger jokingly at him.

- Heard it loud and clear, princess. - he pulled her arm so she was chest to chest with him as if they were about to dance. - Just so we’re clear, I do not agree with those letters.

- Please don’t hide things from me. - her ring finger traced his cheekbone softly. - I can’t stand it from everyone but I personally can’t stand it coming from you. You’re the only one in my corner.

- I’ll always be in your corner but I will want to protect you and I will sometimes do something stupid.

- Why do something stupid when you could do me? - she looked at him with that little shy grin which was just always so endearing to him. Bucky chuckled, leaning down to kiss her. It was a short kiss, broken by him merely to look at her pout.

- You’re getting frisky, princess?

- Well, you did lose your chance to see what’s under my robe. - her fingers slightly rose the hem of her robe to show a bit of her lace garter before dropping it to grab her dress. - But I do need to grab some takeaway.

- I’m going with you. - he followed into her own ensuite bathroom, but she stopped him, holding the door edge in her hand. - You were going to show it to me anyway.

- Next time don’t hide stuff from me. - she smiled before locking the door leaving him alone while she got dressed in a jumper like dress. Bucky leaned his forehead against the door, his mind going haywire as the minute she was gone he immediately started thinking of how he hadn’t found who was sending those letters. How come no one had figured it out? Surely whoever had done it couldn’t be that good at covering their tracks unless they were a professional. Y/N exited the bathroom in her jumper dress and put her hands on the nape of his neck. Bucky took that opportunity to rise up the hem of her dress, watching the soft white stocking reach its end where it connected to her garter. - No, Bucky. No.

- When did you have this? I’ve never seen you wear it before. - he tried to pull it upwards a bit more but she stopped him by merely wrapping her hand around his wrist. - Did you buy it for me, princess?

- Oh no, I wore this when I was 20. In front a 150 people audience.

- What? - he looked as confused as the day someone explained what the internet was to him. - Someone else has seen it? Why can’t I see it?

- Because you’re not in the mood. - she walked away to grab her coat and her scarf. - Are you coming?

- Oh, in more ways then one, princess. - he too grabbed his jacket, following her down the stairs.

He held her hand as they stepped outside, going into a mode he wasn’t used to going into very often. Everything and everyone was suspicious to him and at any moment, he felt like he was ready to kill someone with only a snap of his fingers. Bucky wanted that and at the same time he didn’t want it. It was a hard duality, that of wanting to defend her at all costs and ensure she was the happiest and that of wanting to just bask into how it felt to be hers, because, god, did it felt god to be hers. It was like waking up in spring mornings and all his mistakes seemed to fade whenever she smiled, the way her nose scrunched up and she hide her mouth with her hands, saying her smile was much to ugly for him to see it. Of course she was lying, her smile was the cutest thing. Yet, he wanted her safe, he wanted her to be endlessly happy. He could never get rid of his demons, of what they had done to him, but he could make sure no one hurt her, no one treated her like a commodity because she was everything but that.

- Claire said Aunt Petunia corned you about babies. - she spoke out as they waited on the line. - I’m sorry, I keep telling her not to but I think she’s in competition with her friend about it.

- It’s okay. - he chuckled. - Do you want one?

- Baby?

- Yeah, do you want a kid someday?

- I do but only one. I think my mum and dad lost a pound of hair each time me and my siblings bickered. Besides, Colin almost made me believe you were cheating on me.

- What?

- Yeah. I was desperate, I called Chuck for help. Chuck. Also, I think he’s dating.

- Circling back to the baby question ... would you consider a baby, maybe you and me have one, someday?

- You want to have a baby with me? - she peered up from looking at her shoes to look at him. Bucky immediately regretted the question, she was young and probably not thinking about kids. - Buck?

- Forget it.

- No, Bucky. I didn’t mean it like that ... I just thought you wouldn’t want to have kids.

- I don’t know. - he scratched the back of his neck. - I mean, I don’t really have much family left and I’d like to think, maybe someday, we could have our own.

- Bucky ...

- I’m freaking you out.

- No. I’ve thought about it too, buying a house, having a baby, but ... everything I do is controlled and scheduled and tight lipped so I tend not to day dream about it.

- Hey ... - he hooked his arm under her waist, pulling her close to him. - You still have agency and besides, I’m really good at going undercover if you need to.

- You always know what to say.

- That’s because you’re predictable, princess.

- I am not. - she retorted, pouting as she crossed her arms.

- Yes, you are, princess.

- Really? - she cocked an eyebrow at him, before standing on her tip toes to whisper against his hear. - I’m not wearing any underwear.

- What? - he blushed as Y/N smiled before stepping forward to collect the takeaway bags from the customer assistant. Bucky cleared his throat as the two of them walked outside. - I thought you had something to show me.

- I did but then I realised it is really uncomfortable to be in that lingerie, so I took it off.

Bucky felt most of his blood travelled south as he looked up and down her body. Damn it, suddenly her home felt so far away from the restaurant. He couldn’t help but stare at her body as they walked down the street, the way her dress draped over what he now knew was her naked body. Part of him felt jealous that she was in such a state in front of everyone else but the other part, the most overwhelming one, wanted to push her into an alley and take her right there and then and maybe he would’ve done so if he hadn’t seen a few paparazzi trying to appear invisible. He put himself on her left, mostly covering her, wrapping his hand around hers as he picked up the pace to get to her place. Once again he stood behind her as she opened her door, so close her could smell her daisy perfume and if he were a bit younger and lacked self control, he would’ve drowned her neck in hickeys. However, he thought seeing himself display some strong PDA with his girlfriend on the next morning’s paper. She took her jacket off, hanging it on the hooks by the door.

- We’re going. - he whispered against her ear as she placed the takeaway bags on the kitchen. She opened her mouth to protest, wanting to defend her right to have the yummy food she had just bought but Bucky gave her no chance to do so, instead holstering her upon his shoulder and climbing up the stairs.

Y/N waved at her younger brother who stopped in his tracks as Bucky passed through him and straight into her bedroom. Before she could protest once more, he laid her on her own bedroom, climbing on top of her and started to kiss her neck which replaced the half done protests with small moans. His hand slide up her left to her tight, rising the dress in the process and sure enough, she had not been lying about not wearing any underwear. Other than the garter which held up the sheer white stockings, she was a bare as the day she was born. Bucky took a moment to appreciate it, the bare woman laid on the bed under him, looking at him as if he were the only man in the world.

- I must say, princess. Whatever you had to show me can’t be better than this.

- Maybe my food downstairs is better.

- You’re not walking down any stairs anytime soon, after I’m done with you. - he leaned down to kiss her, a harsh full of need kiss as if he hadn’t seen her in decades.

She smiled through the kiss, hands held over his neck as he placed kisses and sucked her skin in places she was sure to get a hickey the next day, but it didn’t matter. In all honesty, nothing really mattered when he kissed her. Y/N held her hands up as he took off the dress and basked in her nakedness. Screw all the women he had ever slept with, no one compared to her. It didn’t have to do with beauty or even seduction. She was just her, just herself in her own naked glory standing under him, eyes shining with a naive like lust as she awaited his next movement. Bucky should’ve done something else but he decided just to kiss her, fingers caressing the soft skin of her face.

- What is it? - she asked as he interrupted the kiss once more.

- You are the most wonderful thing in my life, Y/N. - he kissed her once more, one hand coming to remove his own trousers.

Her lips stretched into a small smile as she rose her forehead to press it against his. She mumbled a small I love you, kissing the side of his lips as he pushed his cock into her. Her lips stretched into a gasp as he grunted once he shed himself completely inside her, eyes closed as he let the feeling of being inside of her take complete hold of him. She continued mid gasp, not a single thought forming inside her mind rather than how good he felt, how full she was.

Bucky opened his eyes, baby blues almost navy coloured as his hand pushed some of her hair away from her face, kissing her to silence her little gaps and moans which came out in such meek tones, it made him even hard just from listening to them. The kiss was forceful, his lips swallowing all her sounds as he slowly circled his hips against hers, one hand holding the side of her hips with a vice like grip. He pushed his hips back, removing himself from her only to thrust back into her, establishing a slow and delayed pace, grip strong enough to leave a bruise the next day. She whined, nails dug into the fabric of the sleeveless tank top he had not taken off.

- Bucky, please ... - she pleaded, tears pooling in her eyes. - Faster.

- No, princess. You’ve been so bad lately ... what should I do with you? - he stopped moving, stilling inside of her.

- Move? Please?

- Giving me handjobs in a plane, pouting when you don’t get attention, walking around without underwear. That’s not good girl behaviour.

- Bucky ... - she tried to rock her hips against his but he stopped her, hand firmly pressing her against the mattress. - Bucky, please.

- I don’t know, princess. - he leaned into the crook of her neck, playfully bitting her sensitive skin, before kissing it and doing it again. - You look so pretty when you’re begging for my cock. I almost want to see it more. Maybe leave you like this all night, what about that?

- Please, Bucky. Please. - a tears rolled down her cheek as she tried once again to rock her hips against his into a pointless effort. - Please, please, I need it.

- I know. You got so upset when I didn’t fuck you last night, dollface. - he moved out and into her in a long, slow motion, earning more moans from her. - You’re just becoming so needy for me, princess.

- Please. - she pouted, raising up to kiss him, her hands moving up to try and take off his shirt but he refused, shutting her actions by starting to relentlessly thrust in and out of her as if he had been possessed by mere lust. Y/N threw her head back as his hand grabbed her breast harshly and he continued to relentlessly fuck her.

Her legs trembled as he went back to paying attention to her neck and jaw, the mix of all the emotions chasing her high. She whined, trying to deal with all she was feeling from his lips against her neck, his hand massaging her breast and flicking her nipple every once in a while as well as his cock veins against the walls of her channel. She managed to open her eyes for a few seconds and swore she could cum merely at the sight of him as he moved away from her neck to thrust faster into her, head thrown back, pink reddish lips opened in a circle, sweat forming in hairline. She had done that, she had gotten him to look so lost in pleasure and that was as stimulating as something could get.

His hand left her breast to start circling her clit, slowly and painful, a harsh contrast with the fast pace. Her own hand replaced the place that had once been occupied by his hand on her breast, biting her lip as he continued with his motions. Bucky did not stop until she reached her orgasm, the tight feeling in her lower stomach exploding into a particular high pitch moan which he silenced by kissing her, reminding her her parents were still downstairs after all. He didn’t take long to reach his own orgasm either, continuing to thrust quickly into her until ropes and ropes of cum painted her walls. The orgasm weakened his hold over her for a few seconds, leading to him collapsing to her side, pushing her along with him. Bucky slipped out of her, reaching up to kiss her lips followed by a small kiss to her nose.

- Hi. - she said shyly, cuddling against his chest as he pushed a cover over her body. - No more secrets, promise me.

- I can’t promise that. I can promise that whatever I do, I do it because I love you and I want you safe.

- Buck.

- I will try. - he kissed her forehead. - Good?

- Good.

She remained in his arms, cuddling against his chest, listening to the sound of his heart beat softly against his ribcage. It felt good, it felt good to feel loved, to hear the heartbeat of someone who loved her, someone who existed, someone who she had only dreamed about and now existed in real life and loved her. The two watched the old clock on her table turn to midnight. Christmas day. She looked up to him, extending to give him a quick kiss.

- Merry Christmas, love.

- Merry Christmas, princess. - he kissed her nose.

- I thought we could trade presents between us. Make it special.

- Me first. - he said and before she could ever argue, he was rolling out of bed with a small blanket covering his nudity to grab a present wrapped in festive wrapping paper with her name written on it. He sat on the bed, next to her, pushing the duvet to cover her so she wouldn’t be cold. - I hope you like it.

- I’m sure I will. - Y/N smiled at him before proceeding to unwrap her present. It was a book and one she recognised very well from seeing pictures on Google whenever she looked around jokingly for first editions on Ebay. - Buck, it’s too much. I can’t.

- It’s mine. Well, it used to be mine but now it’s yours.

- How do you even know I like the Hobbit?

- Chuck told me.

- You and Chuck talk? - she giggled, unable to picture her best friend having a conversation with Bucky who was always brooding.

- We don’t but whenever we’re on set, he just keeps talking. He said you liked it, so I thought it would be fun if you had the one I read when I was what? About your age?

- Oh okay, grampa. - she poked his chest jokingly before handing him his present.

Bucky kissed the side of her temple, opening the package to see an album like photo with his name written in gold. He gave her a confused look but she merely nodded her head, telling him to open the book. Once he did, he saw “All the times Bucky Barnes was a hero” written in her handwriting followed by pages and pages of articles calling him a hero, the saviour of the day and other words he did not equalise with himself.

- I know you don’t believe you’re a good man but I do and it’s not just me who thinks it. There has been darkness in your life but the way you continued onwards, doing good to the world which hurt you ... that’s noble. - he heard her voice almost in a echo like fashion as he moved page after page. It did not only ranged from his time in the Howling Commandos but even til now, with recent missions and facts. Everything was there, different journal cut outs, different testimonies. Everything.

Bucky looked to his side, looked at her who was smiling at the book in his hand which she had put together and he knew. He just knew.

- Y/N?

- Hm?

- Marry me.

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