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#no but i really regret opening up to those who don't even care
unclejezzzy · 2 days
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Dazzling Starlet, Bardot Reincarnate
It’s 1990. Eddie Munson did Steve Harrington the favour of being his first male sexual encounter and is filled with deep regret when Steve Harrington shows up at his apartment needing his help months later.
OR: Steve’s parents find magazines under his bed and Eddie begrudgingly lets him stay at his apartment and hates every second even though hes secretly a sweetie with a soft spot
"I cannot fucking believe it." Eddie grumbled, arm leaning against the surface of the bar as he glared over the rim of his glass.
"What?" Robin asked, immediately averting her gaze to Eddie's line of sight.
"Oh, you're talking about Steve again. Shocking." Robin sang, tone tainted in sarcasm.
It had been three months since Eddie had kicked Steve out of his apartment the morning after their surprising, yet oddly exhilarating sexual excursion.
He'd done Steve a favour, Eddie got laid. Quid pro quo. All's fair in sex and war.
Eddie was of the assumption that he was free of him, that life would go back to normal after Steve Harrington. Like plucking a blood sucking leech from your skin knee deep in a shallow river or finally digging out that splinter in your finger with a pair of tweezers.
But no.
Because Steve Harrington was everywhere.
All of the time.
Dancing, flirting, kissing.
He'd become a regular at Eddie's most sacred place. His Nirvana, his church. Valhalla, Abraham's bosom, whatever you wanted to call it.
Thursday to Saturday, as soon as those club doors opened at 9pm, there he was. He'd even made friends with the bouncers so he could skip the queue each time. The guy had a fucking membership card and every single person in there knew who he was.
Eddie shrugged it off at first. He's young, he's finding himself. He deserves to blow off some steam and have a little fun. The sex was pretty much the only joy of being gay so he couldn't blame him too much.
Eddie would watch him saunter up to past, present - and what he was hoping were future - flings without a care in the world. He cut his T-shirts up into crop tops to show off his abs, he started wearing eyeliner, he would tease and flirt with anyone who so much as looked in his direction.
He had a posse of men around him at all times with their hands all over him.
And Eddie was forced to bear witness to all of it.
Eddie whips around to face Robin behind the bar, slamming his glass down on the surface.
"I used to be the best fucking ride in here. Then he comes along acting like he owns the place and everyone flocks to him like Jesus' disciples after he waltzed out of his cave." Eddie seethed through gritted teeth.
"They're just a bunch of cock starved hedonists. Y'know I thought we had a little humility about us. Evidently fucking not."
Robin rolled her eyes, drying a glass with a dish towel.
"He's just the hot new thing, you know how this place goes. Some other poor unsuspecting twink will come along in a week and everyone will forget about him."
"I literally taught him everything he knows."
"Well - at least you don't have to deal with him anymore. You did him a solid and now he's - giving everyone else a solid." Robin snickered.
Eddie downed his drink, sliding the empty glass across the bar.
"Makes me sick." He spat.
"You're not jealous are you?" Robin smiled slyly as she poured a single measurement full of Eddie's favourite whiskey.
Jim Beam. Old reliable, Jim. That was the one man who couldn't piss Eddie off even if he tried.
"No, no - I'm not fucking jealous."
"Sounds like you're jealous." Robin thinned her lips and widened her eyes cautiously as she handed Eddie his drink.
"Screw you, man. I just think it's a bit rich coming from the guy who didn't even know how to finger himself three months ago." Robin grimaced as Eddie took a hefty sip.
"Like, how good can he be really? He's a bottom, all he does is lay there. I was the one doing all the work! Me!" He exclaimed as Robin continued to stare at him.
"What?"
"It just sounds like you're a bit upset that after your steamy night of passion, he seems to have forgotten all about you."
"That doesn't upset me." Eddie sneered.
"Its preferable he forgets all about me. I like it that way."
"Sure." Robin said, lowering her gaze to bite back a smile she was desperately trying hard to hide from Eddie.
"Are you forgetting that I could have had him again? I'm the one who sent him packing the next morning. I didn't get down on my knees and beg him to stay. I wanted him gone."
"Well, there you go then. I don't know what you're so uptight about!" Robin declared, slapping her hands against her thighs in defeat.
Eddie turned around, realising he wasn't going to be getting the validation from Robin anytime soon. Ever the pacifist.
Eddie watched as Steve raked a hand through his hair - his already cropped shirt lifting even higher as Eddie's eyes unwillingly glazed over the scope of his body.
God.
Steve gleamed at Eddie, making his way over to the bar.
"Oh my fucking God there's no escape is there." Eddie muttered.
"Hey." Steve called out breathlessly, smiling at Eddie.
"Hi." Eddie grumbled, leaning back against the bar and crossing his arms tightly against his chest.
"You look like you're having fun."
"I would say the same for you, but - looks a bit dry over here." He retaliated, directing his attention to Robin and offering her a sickeningly sweet smile.
"Could I get a vodka lime and soda please, Robin?"
"Sure thing!" Robin responded.
A little too politely for Eddie's liking.
"Vodka lime and soda? What are you a forty year old woman watching her figure?" Eddie mocked, peering at Steve in his peripheral.
"Well - I was gonna offer to buy you a drink"-
"No thanks. I don't take handouts." He interjected, hurriedly.
"So testy." Steve acknowledged - folding his arms against the bar, elbow knocking against Eddie's as he situated himself mere inches against his face.
"And for your information - It's the opposite of dry, thank you very much. We're having a blast."
"Yeah, it's a real hoot and a half over here." Robin deadpanned, topping Steve's drink off with soda water.
"Coulda fooled me." Steve shrugged.
"Not going out there?" He asked, cocking his head over to the main floor filled with bustling bodies.
"Nah, just observing tonight. I'm not interested in chasing around a bunch of fucked out crystal queens with blown out pupils right now."
"Y'know - I've seen you a couple times - you haven't left with anybody in a while." Steve acknowledged.
"So?"
"So - could the great Eddie Munson be past his prime?"
Oh, this kid had a death wish.
Continue reading on ao3
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fairydrowning · 2 years
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At this point I'm not going to opening up to someone unless it's my autopsy.
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aliceramblez · 4 months
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Dating The BroZone Brothers 🎤🎶
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Tags: Gender-neutral reader, Fluff, Some Angst (mostly for Branch lol), Also Broppy isn't canon here, obviously. But I love them dearly so don't come at me!
Follow me @taruchinator for more structured content and/or feel free to leave a request here in asks. Enjoy!
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John Dory
We all know this man is a bit self-centered, and that doesn't stop at your relationship.
He'll find any opportunity to show off for you— anything from singing, to dancing, to just his ‘incredible leadership skills that make him the perfect boyfriend!’
He also definitely introduced himself as a member of the old boy band BroZone, which you may or may not have heard of, which may or may not have left him flabbergasted.
Despite all his faults though, John Dory will do his best to be a good partner for you. It's what you deserve, after all!
Keeping you safe from wild creatures, making sure you're always happy because he loves your smile, and also being the overprotective boyfriend who'll square off against anyone who even dares to make you uncomfortable even if they're 10x his size.
Small detail, but he also loves the fact that Rhonda took a liking to you instantly.
“She knows how to pick the good ones,” he'd say with a wink.
Talks about his brothers CONSTANTLY, but always in a way that makes it seem like he doesn't care and that it's their fault the band broke up in the first place. He obviously really cares about them, though.
Some nights, he'll reflect and regret all the stuff he said and did to them, and wishes he could go back and make it right. You reassure him through most of it, trying to convince him that he was young and just didn't know any better.
He stares at you in awe and disbelief because how could ANYONE think that what he did was justifiable? Abandoning his younger siblings all because of his stupid ego and personal insecurities.
“I really don't deserve you...”
Give him some time he's just emotionally constipated.
Also you BET he's gonna show you off to his brothers once they're reunited, so just let him. He just wants the most important people in his life to meet.
You can also expect them to try and embarrass John Dory with stories from their childhood, so be ready to have a good laugh as your boyfriend plots for murder in the background.
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Spruce/Bruce
Probably the one who's best equipped to be in a relationship out of everyone in the group.
He is a family man, after all.
Speaking of which, if you think him settling down in the movie and having kids of his own was cute, it really is! But that just indicates that he has a way with children.
If you have a child or younger sibling, expect them to get dotted and taken care of to DEATH by this man.
He may not have been the sensitive one of the group, but was definitely the most reliable of the eldest, so he's got experience handling little trouble makers that come his way.
He still opens a cantina in Vacay Island, which is where you two met for the first time, and so you help run it occasionally whenever you have the chance. And even though you don't go there 24/7, all the regulars just think that you're the co-owner since you're dating Bruce.
You're the one who finds out that he's actually ‘Spruce’, the member of old boy band BroZone. You just happened to stumble upon an old record he kept in his room, and after confronting him about it, he reluctantly confirms your suspicions.
It was hard to recognize him since he was much older now and his body had definitely... grown over the years.
Bruce doesn't like preaching about those days, since he's quite embarrassed of the ‘immature ladies man’ he used to be back then.
But he won't deprive you of them either, since he'll happily share any stories on his misadventures with his brothers, funny backstage incidents, etc.
He misses them dearly and wishes they're all doing okay.
Two words: Hopeless. Romantic.
He's ‘The Heart Throb’ for a reason.
Roses, chocolates, dances— he can do it all!
Bruce will always make time in his busy schedule to spend time with you, taking you on dates to your favorite spots around the island, getting you meaningful gifts, and just overall expressing his love for you in any way he can.
He loves singing to you because it always serenades you and it puts a smile on his face.
People always joke that he's going to propose to you out of the blue one of these days, which always leaves him a flustered mess, but he never denies either.
“What can I say? I might be waiting for the perfect opportunity...”
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Clay
Poor baby doesn't know what he's doing but he's trying, okay?
The two of you meet in the abandoned Bergen Golf Course, where you and Viva welcome him with open arms, and everything pretty much plays as in the movie, except that he really likes spending time with you and ONLY you, which he doesn't quite understand?
You're the one to ask him out cause otherwise you'd be playing this back and forth forever. He says yes.
He's never had a partner before, so he's justifiably worried that he'll mess up in some way, or that you'll end up finding him too boring after a while.
This becomes much more apparent after a particular bad night, in which after mumbling incoherently because of a nightmare, you find out that he has brothers and used to be in a boy band.
He doesn't open up about it at first, so you give him some space and reassure him that you'll be there when he needs you. Just give him some time and he'll tell you eventually.
He talks about how he could never be himself, since he was always expected to be ‘The Fun One’, and now he's basically tried to become the complete opposite in hopes of gaining some control over his life.
But he also worries that others will think he's too dull, and that he just isn't interesting enough to be around. Especially you.
You immediately take his face in your hands and look him in the eyes.
“I fell in love with Clay. Not ‘The Fun Troll from BroZone’ Clay. Also, you're fun in your own way!”
He basically falls for you all over again after hearing this.
After that, he becomes slightly less uptight and allows himself to enjoy the little things. You sometimes actually catch him dancing when he thinks no one's looking and you find it's the most adorable thing in the world, even after he realizes he's not alone and wants the earth to swallow him whole.
“Don't mind me, I'mma just crawl in a hole for a while...”
“No, no- Babe, it was amazing! I loved it! Pleaseeee show me more!”
Overall, he's a pretty good boyfriend all things considered.
He's incredibly overprotective of you, and will always give you advice and tools he thinks will be helpful if you're thinking of venturing outside of the Golf Course.
He asks Viva for dating advice CONSTANTLY and she DOES NOT let him live it down. Of course she has good ideas, though.
He'll pretty much do anything for you, even if it means going out of his comfort zone.
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Floyd
Another great candidate for being in a good relationship.
Need I explain myself with this man?
His entire personality revolves around being caring and understanding, so he's definitely always on the lookout for anything that makes you sad or uncomfortable and will fix it ASAP.
Floyd is the kind of person who will ask for consent with pretty much anything you do— from holding your hand, to kissing you, to giving you a hug; he will ALWAYS make sure that you're okay with it even if you've given him the green light in the past.
He's not huge on PDA due to his somewhat shy nature, but if you are, he'll try his best to keep up with you.
This doesn't mean he dislikes physical affection, in fact it's his love language. He'll go out of his way to try and sneak in as many hugs as possible throughout the day and maybe a kiss or two if you'll allow it, which of course you do.
You also try your best to get involved in his own interests, because that's only fair after everything he does for you.
It isn't until one day that he sings for you that you compliment him and he nonchalantly comments that he used to be in a band when he was a teenager.
Cue the reveal of him having four brothers and you begging him to tell you all about them.
Which he does, but you can't help but notice the melancholic expression on his face, so you immediately stop him and apologize for being pushy on the matter and that he doesn't have to share anything he doesn't want to talk about.
He only looks at you with a small smile and shakes his head.
“No, I'm glad you asked. I haven't talked about them in years, so I like remembering the good times, even if they're in the past now.”
So he'll go on and on about them, one by one, and go into excruciating detail about what kind of person they are and what he loves about them. He's especially fond of his little brother Branch, based on everything he tells you.
When he gets kidnapped by Velvet and Veneer, you immediately go to Branch for help.
Once you're reunited, you two basically run to each other and hug with tears streaming down your eyes.
���Did they hurt you?!”
“No, I'm okay! Did they hurt you?!”
“Who cares?”
“I do!”
Floyd is then incredibly happy to introduce you to his brothers, who begin to affectionately tease him about getting himself a partner and you happily step in to protect him from any unwanted bullying.
You also tell him that you like the new hairdo, which only causes him to giggle and kiss your forehead affectionately.
Honestly you guys probably have the healthiest relationship out of the whole group.
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Branch
I was really debating whether to include him or not since there's many Branch Reader Inserts out there, but I don't wanna leave my baby out so here we are!
You have a classic childhood friends to lovers situation with him, since you've known him ever since he was a member of BroZone, only being about a year older than him.
You'd help him practice for his concerts and would always give him pep talks whenever he felt worried that he'd ruin the show.
You're basically his number one fan— never missing a concert even if it meant dragging your parents with you so they'd let you get in.
The moment the group disbands and Branch is left all alone, you're there for him and wait alongside him for his brothers to return, reassuring him that ‘siblings would never break a promise’.
Cue his whole childhood trauma and him losing his colors, but it's only because of you that he doesn't completely isolate himself from society. He still builds his bunker though, since he's pretty much scarred for life thanks to the Bergens.
Just like with Clay, you're the one who takes initiative and asks him out, and he's just left gaping like a fish because why would you want someone like HIM?
After reuniting with John Dory, he's also dotting you about how big you've gotten and treats you like a baby, which actually irks Branch much more than it does to him.
He makes sure to remind his brothers that you both are grown adults, thank you very much.
Once the band gets back together, you kinda become a manager of some kind and help them in organizing their performances. Branch is eternally grateful and thanks you for staying by his side all these years.
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marvelouslizzie · 9 months
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You're Stuck with Me - Co-written with @notafunkiller
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Summary: When you find out your boyfriend's cheating on you with his best friend, you immediately tell Bucky Barnes about the affair and propose revenge sex.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Word Count: 6.9K
Warnings: 18+ smut, cheating, revenge fuck, language, oral sex (female receiving), protected and unprotected sex, praise and degradation mix, pet names, teasing, no mention of y/n
A/n: We are getting a little out of our comfort zone with this story. I hope you will enjoy it.
Please give my lovely co-writer @notafunkiller a follow. She's an amazing writer. You should definitely check her Bucky Barnes stories.
All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.
Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.
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"Are you sure?" Bucky asks, finishing your bottle of sparkling water. "I don't want you to cry and regret it after."
“Don’t worry, I won’t.” You sound so confident that even you are surprised. “It’s just sex.”
"Just sex." He repeats with his eyebrows raised. "You never seemed to me like the type of girl who would go for just sex, doll."
“Maybe you should’ve paid a little more attention. You would’ve realized you might have the wrong kind of impression.”
"Oh, really?" He leans in amused. "Big words."
“They're not. You just aren’t used to talking to me.”
"You're telling me you're not a commitment girl?" He presses the matter, not believing you even a little. You two might not be friends, but he figured out what type of person you are.
“I’m just saying I won’t regret having sex with you. The rest is your assumption.”
His gaze immediately drops to your chest. "You trust my skills that much?"
You roll your eyes. “Do you have to be this arrogant all the time?”
"Do you have to be a brat all the time?" He doesn't wait for your response, though, as he continues. "Oh wait, you can't help it. Totally in your nature."
“So women who don't stroke your ego are brats? Maybe I just don’t care that much about you. Did you consider that?” There’s a hint of anger in your voice but nothing more. He always manages to challenge you and push your buttons. “Maybe you aren’t the only one who didn’t like those double dates. Get off your high horse.” You add without missing a beat. You realized how bored and uninterested he was then. No matter what topic you were bringing up, he wasn’t open. That’s one of the reasons why you believe he thinks he’s better than anyone.
"Fuck." He shakes his head. "You and that mouth of yours. Do you see me going around and calling women brats?” He doesn’t wait for you to answer. “Those dates were absolutely horrible. Your little boy toy is the biggest loser I've ever met."
“You seem like a guy who would do that. You are not? Ops, wrong assumption I guess.” You make a fake I am sorry face. “He’s not my boy toy but I agree, he’s a big loser.”
He smiles when you finish your sentence, so satisfied. "Why do you enjoy pushing me so much? Does it turn you on?"
“How am I pushing you? Do you think this is pushing?” You don’t budge.
"What is it then?"
“I know you don’t like me and I am just giving you back that same energy.” You tell him the truth. That’s what you always do: you give the same energy people give you. If they are kind, you are kinder. If they are assholes, you are a bigger asshole.
Bucky snorts, running a hand through his hair. "Where was this attitude hidden around him?"
You breathe out loudly, not hiding how bored you are. “Are we gonna talk all night or are we gonna do this?”
He smiles in a way you never saw him smile before he leans in even more, invading your space. "It's been that long, huh?"
You make a face. “You can’t tell me sex with her was great. I saw their little sex tapes.” You can’t deny what he’s just said, but you can deflect.
He gives you the most surprised face. "What?"
“You heard me. If it had been a while for me, then it must have been even longer for you.”
"Indeed." His voice doesn't betray any emotion.
“Then stop belittling me. We both have been having bad sex and we both got cheated on. You aren’t better than me.”
"When did I say that, woman?"
“You always act like you are better than everyone.”
"That's just your assumption." He paraphrases you with the biggest smile on his face
“Prove me wrong then.”
And he does, looking at you for a couple of seconds. When you don't move, he finally grabs you by your chin and kisses you. He's not hesitant or testing, he's literally trying to claim your mouth as he wants to deepen the kiss by licking your bottom lip. When you finally give him access, his hand goes to the back of your neck, the contrast between his soft touch and his passionate way of kissing making you moan.
"Your mouth…"
“What about it?” You ask while still looking at his lips.
He kisses you again, like he's starved, his hand pulling your hair a little more. He tastes like some fresh toothpaste and a little chocolate.
"So sweet, yet so bratty."
“Do you have a thing for brats for something?” You pull him by his collar and kiss him again. He might be an asshole, but he knows how to kiss.
"Maybe just for a special brat."
“What does that mean?” You stop and look into his eyes.
He lets go of your hair and lowers his hands to your waist. "Tell me to stop and I will. Tap me anywhere if you can't talk and I'll stop. Get it?"
“Yeah. Same goes for you. Any lines you don’t wanna cross?”
"Just don't call me by someone else's name." He sighs.
“Fine by me. Don’t use any pet names you used for your ex.”
"I wouldn’t dream of it. What else?" He smirks.
“No degrading.”
"So no my little whore?”
“That doesn’t sound like degrading to me but another rule: Don’t say things you don’t mean. I don’t like that heat-of-the-moment bullshit.”
He seems to like your rules. "God, how did you date that asshole for 5 months?"
“I was just giving that so-called nice guy a chance and it got me here. How did you date that bitch for 8 months?”
"Woah. Bitch? Never heard you referring to a woman like this."
“I never liked her.” You shrug. And she cheated on him. So why not?
"Why?"
“I don’t know. I always thought she was full of herself. Always looking down at people.”
"Like me." He stares at you. "I understand."
“Not like that. She always talks badly about people. Most of the time, behind their backs. She always looks for a way to steal the spotlight. I actually wondered what you saw in her.”
"I won't talk about a woman badly, especially my ex, but I guess we just want to give people a chance."
“That woman cheated on you. With someone she called her best friend after you two decided to move in together. Maybe longer. But sure, make me feel bad about calling her a bitch.”
Bucky seems to think about it for a few seconds. You appreciate his non-talking shit about my ex policy, but in this case? Not deserved. They cheated on you for months. They could have chosen to break up, but they didn't want that. They pretended they are just friends, proposed double dates, lied and hid, and made promises. Your relationships weren't working perfectly well, your sex lives seem very shitty and probably there were signs about this affair, but you cannot blame yourself or Bucky for not seeing them. You deserved the truth. You just can't believe you two are actually in this situation. Giving the wrong people a chance… never again for sure.
"You're right. This is such a fucking shitty thing. I mean, at least fucking break up with me. God, we kissed them, fucked them after they were with each other." He makes a disgusted face.
“So we practically fucked each other already, you know?” You make a joke, trying to change the mood a little. It really is fucked up.
"They didn't see us having sex though." He shakes his head. "They managed to make the lamest sex tapes in history."
“Yeah, I am still traumatized by her fake moans.”
"Fake?" He snorts.
“Yeah, I know how sex is with him. No way those moans are real.”
"Maybe they are. Maybe she enjoys it. She likes him so much they decided this fucking shitty sex is worth it." He leans in and kisses you again suddenly and you don't understand if he's angry because he regrets being with her and getting cheated on or he regrets being betrayed because he wants her so much. You know they fought a lot from your soon-to-be ex, but 8 months are something after all.
You kiss him back nonetheless, enjoying the way his lips and tongue feel. You don't remember the last time you've been kissed this good. If you've ever been with someone like this… he's basically eating you with his mouth.
“It won’t take long for her to regret it. Talking from experience,” you say while kissing him back. You wanna know if he wants her back or not. Not that it matters. You are just curious. Maybe he wants to make her jealous.
"What she wants doesn't matter anymore, doll." He strokes your hair when he stops kissing you so you can take a deep breath. "You called me arrogant, right?"
“Yeah?” You answer hesitantly.
"Do arrogant people ever let themselves be humiliated?" He pauses. "I don't want something like this. Someone like this. I have absolutely no desire to keep a person who does this. I am a patient person, I try to work things out, but this? Never in a fucking million years. Nothing about this relationship was right, I suppose. What about you?"
“I don’t care about him anymore.” Your response comes immediately. You were completely done with him the moment you found out about their affair. There’s no turning back. It was like a switch. That’s why you are here with Bucky. “I tried so hard to make it work, thinking relationships are hard and we gotta put some effort to make it work. All bullshit. I’m done with him. I’m done with lowering my standards. Done with 5-minute sex, and ‘you turn me on so much, I can’t help it’ excuses. There’s no going back for me.”
You see his little smirk and can't help but touch his face. He is really one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen.
"I never liked him, and you know it. That small dick energy is unbearable. I think he'd have a heart attack if he even heard us. Can you imagine?"
“I… actually can.” You can envision how that would hurt him and his insufferable ego. “God, she would hate me so much.” You smile.
"Oh, she would. She's always been jealous of you anyway."
“And he hates that you don’t even have to be nice to make people like you. Now he would have an extra reason.”
"Fuck, doll." You feel his thumb on your neck and you shiver. "I'm gonna sound crazy, but wouldn't make you feel satisfied if indeed they heard us?"
You blink, trying to understand his offer. That actually would actually give you pleasure… knowing that he suffers just like you did. You also notice the pet name he uses. You never heard him use it with his (ex) girlfriend, so he’s keeping his promise. “I’d… really like that.”
"Yeah?" He leaves a kiss on the corner of your mouth. "A voice message?"
“Sounds better than actually calling.” You turn your face a little and kiss him on the lips.
"Look at you, you ignored me for months." He bites your bottom lip lightly.
“It wasn’t like you were friendly.”
Does he even hear you?
He takes you in his arms. "Bedroom?"
“Bedroom.” You wrap your legs around his torso in agreement as he leads the way.
"Left?"
“Yeah, hurry up.”
He opens the door with his elbow, then doesn't bother to close it as he lets you down. His hands find your blouse and you hear the ripping sound before you can raise your arms.
You’re surprised but not bothered. Truth be told, you find that very hot. But you still unclip your bra.
“Fucking hell.” He manages to whisper before he leans in and grabs your breasts, his tongue licking all the way down from your neck to your nipple.
You tug on his T-shirt and try to take it off while he’s busy exploring your body.
"You hid these from me."
“Not specifically from you. Move your hands up so I can take this off.”
"From who then?" He frowns and lets go for a second so you can take it off.
“From everyone, of course.”
"God, I wanna come all over them. So pretty.”
“Maybe you should make a mental list. Come on her tits. Come inside her mouth. Come inside her pussy.”
His eyes glow, and you giggle. "Who said I didn't?"
“You did?” You sound impressed. “Wanna share?”
"Wanna share my come? Sure." His fingers find your zipper and you gasp when he takes your pants off from one try.
“Oh, you are filthier than I thought.” You say to cover your surprise.
"You thought about how filthy I am?"
“You think I didn’t consider how this would be before offering a revenge fuck?”
"When?" He takes ahold of your underwear, and you're unsure if he wants to rip it off or simply take it off.
“I just told you.”
"I thought…" He blushes, realizing he misunderstood. It's an asshole move to assume that while you were with that prick, the thought of him like this has even passed your mind. "Forget it."
“No, no, tell me.” You pull him closer by his belt. “Let’s get rid of these.”
"Did you ever think about me before today?" He helps you take off his pants while finally getting rid of your panties.
“What if I did? Does it make me a terrible person?”
"Terrible." He nods, letting the pieces of your underwear drop on the floor along with his boxers and pants before he steps out of them. "So terrible." He kisses you, his hands on your hips, bringing you closer to his cock. You didn't even have proper time to look at him. "The worst."
“I knew it.” You play along. “What about you?”
"I thought about this mouth a lot."
“Just my mouth?” You nudge him by moving your hips up.
"Thought about fucking you in the bathroom."
“When?” Did he really want to fuck you before? He never looked at you twice or at least that’s what you thought.
"A few weeks ago… we… the office. You were with your little group. They were smoking and you wore that fucking lipstick that just blew my mind away. I didn't intend to. You didn't even notice me." He kisses you again but doesn't deepen it.
Everything he said takes you by surprise. You didn’t think that he ever paid attention to you, let alone notice your lipstick and get turned on by it.
“I noticed you, but I thought you were bored. You had a grumpy look on your face most of the time. I liked your blue shirt, though. It makes your eyes pop.”
He moans. Is it so easy to make him moan? you wonder.
"I'm always grumpy and arrogant, of course."
“You don’t seem that grumpy and arrogant right now.” You gently bite his neck and then soothe the spot with your tongue.
"Fucking hell, woman." You feel him grabbing your ass. "Tell me you have a condom."
“In that drawer.” You point to it casually. “But just so you know, I’m on the pills.”
He nods, contemplating for a little while before helping you get on bed and taking a condom from your nightstand.
You don’t question why he chooses to reach for it, yet you can’t help but wonder how it would be like to feel him without any barrier. Your mouth waters at the sight of his naked body.
Maybe, maybe you should let him fuck your mouth, too. Why not?
He quickly puts the condom on and before he can climb on bed, he looks at you. "What you said earlier about the voice message, do you still stand by it?"
You realize you actually forgot about them or why you are doing this for a second. “Yeah. I want them to suffer.”
"Good." He takes his pants from the floor and finds his phone quickly. You didn't even realize he had it when you undressed him.
“So what are we doing exactly? Recording a small part and sending it?”
"Ihm." He nods. "Want that asshole to hear what your real moans sound like." He finally sits on the bed and you spread your legs further apart.
“Only my moans?” You ask while he positions himself.
"No video," he says immediately, and you giggle. That wasn’t your question, but it’s okay. You wonder if he’s being possessive with you already or it's something else.
“I meant what about your moans.”
He smiles. "Yeah, of course, but I'm not a loud person." He drops the phone close to your shoulder. "You, on the other hand… I bet you're a fucking screamer."
“I guess we'll find out. Is it recording already?”
"No, uhm, can you… The code is 0478."
“Let’s start and then we can record when it gets really loud.” You try to sound normal, but you are surprised he's just told you his passcode.
"You sure? We can trim it. I don't want to interrupt you."
"Don't worry. I'm good at multitasking." You give him a smile. "But if you wanna record the whole thing, so you can get off to it later, just say that." You can’t help but tease him a little.
"No, no, it's alright. I just want you to feel good, okay?" He smiles, his hands making their way to your thighs.
"Oh, I will. Don't worry about that." You pull him closer by wrapping your legs around his body. As he pushes inside, you start to forget what you were talking about before.
"Oh, fuck me." He groans when he sees the shape of your mouth. Such a perfect O. You feel so good and he's not even halfway inside you. "You're so wet."
"I can do that." You cheekily respond. "But we would need to change the position." You ignore his second comment.
He kisses you as if he needs to taste you again to be able to breathe, his tongue quickly finding yours once you open your mouth. Your hand gets into his hair at the same time he properly gets inside you.
You moan at the fullness. You haven't felt this stretched for so long, but it doesn't hurt. It just makes you crave more.
"Such a brat when you only needed a good cock." You know he's intentionally teasing you, so you try to find a good response.
"We'll see how good it is."
"Brat." He repeats again and moves his hands to your breast. His thrusts are not constant as he tries to test what you like.
"Put your mouth on them already." You know he wants to. He has been looking at them since he stepped inside your apartment. And you want him to do it, too. The thought itself makes you moan.
"Are you ordering me?"
"Depends. Yes, if you like that. No, if you don't."
He takes a handful of your breast in his mouth in response, not only your nipple, his thrusts getting slower, but a little deeper at the same time. The sound of his tongue licking on your skin makes you close your eyes.
The way he sucks your nipple makes you think he likes taking orders. What a great turn of events, you think.
He switches to the other one quickly, giving it the same treatment, while keeping the pace.
"Do you like it?"
“Yeah, yeah.” You quickly respond. “I love it.”
"Faster?"
“Yep, faster.” You gently push his head onto your breast again, loving the double stimulation.
He moans excitedly as he resumes licking and playing with your breasts, carefully trying to leave a hickey around your nipple. "These are mine now."
He doesn’t mean that, does he? Must be the heat of the moment, but you agreed on not doing that. So you decide to remind him. “Don’t say things you don’t actually mean, remember?”
"I didn't forget, brat. Did you?"
He bites on your nipple, gently, but you still feel it.
“So you actually mean that?” You really want to know, so you ignore the fact that he called you a brat again.
"Mean what?" He leaves a kiss on your nipple to soothe any possible pain. "That these are mine?"
“Yeah.” You sound impatient. Why is he acting clueless now?
"They are, they belong to me. So does your bratty mouth." He kisses you shortly.
You can’t deny how his words turn you on even more.
"I imagined fucking you in a bathroom that day at the office." He groans. "So terrible of me, right? Imagining you with come dripping out of you, down to your thighs as you go back to work. Months of petty silence solved."
“If I'd known my silence bothered you that much, I would have been even more silent until it drove you crazy enough to do something about it.” You move your hips up to match his rhythm. “I just thought you just preferred not speaking to me because you didn’t like me.”
"I would have screwed everything up and fucked you, you understand?" He looks you in the eye, making it clear he is honest. "I would have become a horrible person, but not even that thought would have made me reconsider."
“Yet you didn’t do anything, did you? You never acted on it. You were just a grumpy man with terrible thoughts.” You just want him to know he’s not a horrible person, yet you can’t help but tease him a little at the same time.
"And you just needed the cock of that grumpy man with terrible thoughts, huh?" His thrusts are so much faster now. You wonder: how the fuck does he expect you to answer?
All you can do is whine and moan because somehow he manages to hit all the right places.
"My little cock whore." He groans. "Mine, okay? Just like I am yours."
“Jesus fucking Christ.” You can’t help but react. You find it so hot you can barely stay still. The way he talks during sex… They would really die if they heard you two. That makes you remember… You were supposed to hit the record button.
"Just Bucky. Or James."
“Where the fuck is your phone, Bucky?” You ask while trying to find it without actually looking.
He's confused for a split second, but then he remembers what you agreed on. "To your right."
You finally find the phone and unlock it quickly before dropping it without any care as soon as it starts to record.
"Oh, doll, you're too wet for me. So good." The sound of your skin slapping and the whimpers are so loud. You can’t contain yourself even if you try.
“Faster, please,” you say without thinking. It feels like you are already close. You don’t care if you have to beg for it.
"So greedy." He cries out when he feels your hands on his ass, pulling him deeper inside you.
“Fuckk. That feels good!” You moan loudly and arch your back.
"Holy shit."
He suddenly stops, making you open your eyes and giving him an accusatory look, but then you notice the phone in his hands. Oh, you forgot about it for a second and you have no idea why.
"Are you sending it?"
"Ihm." He doesn't just lock his phone after he is done. He freaking turns it off, surprising you. “I don’t want any interruptions. Want to fuck you in peace.”
You just pull him into another kiss, more passionate this time. You feel his right hand on your tummy, tickling you a little, before stopping down, above your clit.
“You close?” You ask him to make sure because you surely are.
"I'm trying not to come," he says honestly.
“Oh, you can. I’m close, too. I just need it a little faster.” His hand on your clit already makes you realize it won’t take much for you to fall apart.
He pulls back, taking his cock almost completely out, and the emptiness makes you whine. Then he thrusts with full force, making you moan so loudly that you can’t recognize your own voice.
"Fuck, look at you. And those sounds…" He brings his thumb to your lips. "Come on, be a good girl and show me how your pretty little mouth would take my cock. The one that's inside your pussy right now, ready to come for you."
“Such a filthy mouth.” You say while moaning. “Come with me so I can take that cock inside my mouth and show you what it can do.”
"God, come, baby. Please come." He is begging you at this point. His voice is so desperate and soft.
His neediness, the way he says those words finally pushes you off the edge.
“Oh god.” You try to breathe as the orgasm takes over your body, making you shake. Your mouth opens, letting out the most unfiltered moan you've ever heard from yourself. It is pure pleasure with no thoughts, no worries. Your heart and your head are on fire, begging for more. You want this feeling to last as long as possible.
He comes shortly after you, but you don't realize it until you hear his loud groan vibrating against your chest. His hips and ass cheeks are trembling under your touch as he seems lost in his world for a few seconds. You run your fingers through his hair, waiting for him to come down from his high.
“Oh god, baby." You feel his breath on your wet skin and you sigh. "Can I live here forever?"
“That good?” You can’t help but ask. He can feel your smile without looking at you.
He looks up. "Ihm. What about you?"
“Wanna get your ego stroked?” You ask genuinely. “Promise that you’re not gonna use it against me.”
He kisses your throat. "I don't make such promises, woman."
“Then you won’t get to hear it.” You expose your throat more while talking.
"What if I eat the truth out of you?"
“Eat the truth out of me?”
"Ihm. You know… when you're under sex spell, you become truthful."
“You are welcome to try.” There’s no way you are gonna turn down another orgasm like this one.
"Perfect." He leaves another kiss on the valley between your breasts and sighs. "Have to take this off first," he says, taking his cock out with a small hiss before standing up near the bed, watching you. "Where can I throw this away?"
“There’s a trashcan in the bathroom.” You point at it while getting more comfortable on the bed.
"Be right back."
You feel something cold on your back and realize it’s his phone. You put it on the nightstand, thinking about how he turned his phone off in the middle of the sex. You make a mental note to ask him to send you that voice message later, so you can remember how good the sex felt.
He comes back with your small semi-wet towel and watches you carefully. "Look, I meant what I said about eating the truth out of you, but only if you are okay with it. I won't ask again. I could always just leave, you know? No big deal." But you can see in his face it would be a big deal. Maybe he likes your company. The sex is amazing.
“Do you wanna leave, Bucky?” You already know his answer.
"No, I don't."
“Then come here and do whatever you wanna do.”
He doesn't need to be told twice. You watch him drop to his knees and, at the same time, drag you closer to the edge of the bed as quickly as he can. You let out a surprised gasp, but it turns into a whole moan when he lifts your legs on his shoulders and starts licking you from your entrance to your clit.
“Fuck, you weren’t joking.”
He acknowledges your words by playing with his tongue around your clit. You move your hips slowly, up and down, just to create a little more friction. Your greed grows while you watch him eagerly lick every bit of your pussy.
You don't expect to feel his fingers at your entrance all of the sudden as you're focused on his tongue. And you especially don't expect him to curl two of his fingers and get them inside you at once. No warnings.
“Oh fuck, yes!” You find yourself grabbing his hair, just needing something to hold on to.
And he moans, buckling his hips in the air at the slight pain. The pace of his fingers matches his tongue, but it's not enough.
“Add the third finger.” You sound desperately close.
He is surprised, you can sense it, but he quickly does what you say, his tongue eagerly toying with your clit faster than before.
“I’m so close!” You warn.
He stops licking for a little and you try to move your hips to meet his mouth. What the fuck is he doing? No time for edging.
"What were you gonna say, doll? What did you think it would stroke my ego?"
“What?” You raise on your elbows, looking like a mess. “Really?”
"If you want my tongue, you give me an answer."
“You are unbelievable!” You sound so betrayed.
"I warned you not to cry, doll."
You really want to keep that thought to yourself, but the ache between your legs doesn’t care about your pride. “I can’t believe you are doing this right now.”
He gives you a small smile, and you see him leaning in again. You think you won, getting more comfortable, ready to come soon, but he only licks you twice, teasingly, and lets your clit go.
"Do what?"
You whine loudly. The feeling of his tongue lingers on your clit. “You wanna play dirty?” Maybe you can’t win this fight, but it doesn’t mean you can’t win others. “Fine.” You sit up a little, looking into his eyes. “It was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Happy now?”
"Delighted. Now was it so hard? You get a reward for being my good and honest girl."
“Yeah, whatever.” You roll your eyes.
"Fucking brat," you hear him whisper right before his tongue finds your clit again, finally licking it in circles properly. He starts to move his fingers, too, and even though they are obviously not even close to the thickness of his cock, they feel incredible.
But you are too annoyed now, at the same time. A part of you just wants to hold back and not give him the pleasure of hearing you come. So he tries harder. You hear him whimpering as he takes your clit into his mouth, sucking on it. And you swallow a moan while your legs are trembling.
"Come on, baby." His fingers move faster, too. "Let it go."
Your whole body starts to shake uncontrollably, but you keep your moans to yourself, pressing your lips together tightly just out of spite. You can see he hates it, but he doesn't stop until you finish coming. And it feels amazing, but you are sure it would have been even better if you had let yourself enjoy it freely.
He sighs into your clit and leaves a kiss there before he stands up. "You're mad."
“No shit, Sherlock.”
"Ah, doll. Nothing can tame that mouth."
“More like actions and consequences. I wasn’t ready to share that, but you forced me to say it for an orgasm, so that’s what you get. An orgasm. Nothing more, nothing less.”
"Forced?" His face shows concern as he sits next to you. "That wasn’t my intention. The last thing I want is to make you feel trapped.” He seems like he’s confused. He looks around and meets your gaze again. “Do you want me to leave?"
“If you wanna leave, just leave, but if that wasn’t really your intention, you can start with apologizing.”
"I am sorry," he immediately says, taking your hands into his. "I was just trying to… be silly I guess."
“You wanted your ego stroked, I get it. We both need it after what happened, but… I don’t know. I just felt exposed.”
"I'm sorry." He kisses your cheek. "I might be a grumpy arrogant son of a bitch, but forcing…"
You start to tear up, hearing him say sorry this quickly. Fucking relationship trauma.
"Oh god, baby, I am sorry, I didn't…" he tries to wipe your tears with his thumbs. "I'm a jackass, but I swear I wasn't trying to force you. I thought it was just a game. My bad."
“No, no. This is on me. Sorry.” You try to take a deep breath. “He just never said sorry no matter how hurt I was. He always had an excuse. This is just… trauma I guess.”
"What a fucking douchebag. I can fuck him up really good, you know?" He suggests. "Just say the words."
“He’s probably already fucked up by the fact that we are fucking.” That thought cheers you up a little.
"His face deserves it, too." Bucky puffs and kisses your wet cheeks. "To be honest, this whole should I leave question comes from my relationship trauma, too. So you’re not alone. She either wanted me to leave or she left every fucking time we disagreed on something. She once threw my shoes out of the window just so I'd go. I don't know why we kept trying…"
“Oh.” You finally understand why he keeps offering to leave. It isn't about you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I thought you were just trying to get out when things get hard.”
"Don't be sorry. I prefer to talk on the spot, to be honest. Letting everything out is healthier. Don't "
“Or take a break whenever it’s needed. Doesn’t mean you have to leave though.”
"Yeah! Exactly."
You laugh a little. You never realized how similar you two are. Today is changing your perspective completely. “Your apology is accepted by the way, but under one condition.”
"What is that?'
“Tell me something about yourself that you don’t want me to know.”
He thinks for a second. "My breath smells like death in the morning. I can make your plants die if you let me."
You shake your head, amused. “That’s not good enough. Everyone’s breath smells bad in the morning.”
"What do you wanna know then?"
“Something on the same level of having your best orgasm.”
"I think you broke me."
“What?”
"You broke me." He repeats as if that is an explanation.
“In what way?”
He kisses you just as desperately as he did in the kitchen, as if this is the first time he kisses you and he can't ever get enough. "I want you for more than one time, do you understand?"
“Oh. Well… That can be arranged.”
"Yeah?" He drags you by your hips, placing you on top of his thighs.
“I would actually like that.”
He kisses you some more, letting his hands wander all over your body, stopping especially on your neck and breasts.
"You like it rough, don't you? Not complaining about me ripping your clothes off, loving the bites." He pulls your hair, just to prove his point in case you deny. You moan.
“Yeah, apparently you like it rough, too.” You don’t deny. Why would you?
"Of course I do, brat." He then turns you around suddenly. "All fours, please."
“Since you asked so nicely,” You stop for the dramatic effect and say as sarcastically as possible: “Boss.”
"Wanna make me your boss?"
“You are already acting like one.” You stand on all fours, pushing your ass back while lowering your head.
"Fuck! You're such a sight, you know?" Bucky's eyes don't leave your body.
“Am I?”
"I wanna look at you like this all day long."
You look at him amused. “I’m afraid I don’t have that much patience.”
You notice him shaking his head. "Of course."
“It’s rude to make me wait like this, you know?”
"Sorry, just wanted to remember this." Bucky feels a little bad for the thoughts he has. He mentally took a picture of you cause he can't ask this from you, right? You're not a couple, and even if you were, it doesn't mean exchanging or keeping photos like this would be okay.
His hips touch your ass as he positions himself at your entrance. "Any limits that come to your mind? I won't ask again."
“We already decided on the rules. I don’t think there’s anything besides them.”
"I'm not gonna hold back this time." Not completely… he grabs a handful of your hair as he thrusts inside you. "I'm gonna pound the fuck out of you and you're gonna take it like a good little girl, understand?"
“I understand. You won’t stop until I say stop.”
"Jesus Christ." He moans halfway inside you at the feel of your extra wet pussy. He feels out of breath just by standing still. "How…"
“Oh, fuck.” You nearly choke. It feels unbelievably good. This position is doing wonders.
"I didn't think-" he says, but at the same time doesn't move an inch. "Fuck, it feels too good, this pussy is driving me crazy. You are driving me crazy." He grips your hair harder without warning and starts to thrusts properly inside you, making sure to squeeze your left breast with his free. The sounds of your wet skin slapping make him curse under his breath.
“You didn’t think what?” You sound out of breath already.
"I cannot fuck you with condoms again." Technically he can, but he doesn’t want to.
You smile widely. “Why is that?”
"Because I am completely fucked."
“You like it that much?”
"Like it?" He puffs, unamused, and starts to finally pound you the way he imagined a few weeks ago. Maybe even harder.
“Oh, fuck!” Yep, he’s right. You are fucked, too.
"You might need to fix me very often, you know?" He drops his hand from your hair just to properly grab your hips. You can barely keep your position like this, his thrusts are so deep.
“Fix you?”
"Yeah. Fix my cock." Oh, that’s what he means.
“We can fix each other then.”
"Ihm." He doesn't say much after this, too focused on kissing your back and keeping the pace at the same time. He's ready to come any minute.
“Harder, Bucky. Please!” You need to come. Really desperately.
"How much harder?" He thrusts a little harder. "More or like this?"
“As hard as you can.”
He doesn't disagree with you, but you know he's holding back even when he pushes harder. And harder. And harder.
"I'm gonna come," he manages to moan. "Fuck I'm gonna come inside you, gonna make a mess. Tell me you… t-tell me you want my come."
“I want your come, Bucky, please. p Please, come with me!” You are already shaking uncontrollably.
"Fuck." That's all you get from him before he's coming, his fingers digging so hard into your skin that you moan again, dizzy from your orgasm.
He keeps moving, making a mess, indeed. It’s already dripping out, you can feel it.
"I came so much." You hear him say suddenly through fogginess.
You smile, resting your head on the bed still, feeling unable to move.
"Not gonna say anything?"
“I died and went to heaven.” You murmur. The orgasm is still running through your veins, making you twitch here and there.
"I've been in heaven for a while."
You finally turn around and look at him. “It was so fucking good.”
"No words." He slowly gets out of you and you notice how happy he is, not taking his eyes off your pussy. "It's gonna start dripping… all over your thighs and sheets. What a nice mark." He even brings a finger to your entrance and pushes back some come.
“Do you have a breeding kink or something?” You smile while asking.
"A breeding kink?"
“Yeah, do you know what it is?”
"Something to do with my come inside you?" He teases. His confusion seems to fade away.
“Yeah, and getting me pregnant.”
He groans, closing his eyes.
“They do that pushing the come back inside thing most of the time.”
"I guess I have a breeding kink." He smiles, accepting it instantly, and finally closes the gap to kiss you. "You might not get rid of me now."
“I knew it!” You point at him with your finger. “I wasn’t gonna get rid of you anyways.”
"Wanna keep me as your boy toy?"
“You wanna be my boy toy?” Your whole face lights up.
"You look quite excited."
“I never had a boy toy before.”
"No?" He shakes his head. "Time to change that. And as your boy toy, I should always make sure you're having a good time." He surprises you by spreading your legs again.
“No, no, no, no. It’s my turn.”
Bucky shakes his head. "Need to get you clean, and then we can do whatever you want, alright?"
“You are really something else.” You sound amazed.
He smirks. "And you're stuck with me. You're all mine now."
You don't get to say anything anymore as you feel his tongue at your entrance. So you just grab his hair, closing your eyes, your exes long forgotten.
“And you are all mine.”
3K notes · View notes
suguann · 14 days
Text
Possessive!Geto who pretends he doesn't care when he overhears that a new high-paying customer comes to the club every Friday to watch you specifically perform on stage, knowing he can’t really do anything about it unless a patron breaks the rules printed on a neon sign above the bar—No touching the dancers unless you're tipping—even if he’s the one in charge.
He’ll smile and nod, shaking hands with big spenders with sleazy smiles in the VIP lounge while his eyes find you from the other side of the room as you climb into another man’s lap.
He can’t stop his jaw from clenching when that same customer tips a month’s worth of rent every week or asks about private shows even though you don't do them. How he notices you smiling prettily for this customer, eyelashes fluttering with stars in your eyes to match the glitter on your cheeks before you walk off stage toward the dressing rooms. 
Sometimes you play the part of making a lonely man feel wanted too well. 
Possessive!Geto whose hand tightens around his glass tumbler, watching the man who’s been coming to see you (now twice a week) slip a thick white card into the top of your stockings. The fact that he touched your thigh with his dirty hands irks Geto the most.
In times like this, he wishes he had never come up with the rule about keeping your relationship a secret—so nobody thinks I’m picking favorites—because regret is a thick pill to swallow.
When you walk up to his office later, Geto wastes no time by dragging you down onto his lap, trailing his nose down the slope of your neck where your soft-smelling perfume is strongest and sucking a bruise into the hollow of your throat for everyone to see. 
You’re still wearing those cross-stitch stockings—the feel of them under his hands making him halfway hard—and he yanks the bodice of your dress down just underneath the swell of your breasts to get rid of the thought of another man touching you.
“B-but, Suguru, we’re at work—”
“Let me enjoy these pretty tits, huh?” he growls before sucking a nipple into his greedy mouth.
You whine his name, and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.
The blinds to his floor-to-ceiling windows are open, but it's tinted glass so nobody can tell what happens behind locked doors. Except, when he glances toward the busy club below, he wishes everyone in the building could witness what it looks like for you to fall apart under his hands—a personal show you put on just for him.
Only him. His fingers hook inside you to feel you tight and hot around him as a reminder.
Possessive!Geto who has enough one day after that customer asks for another private session—this time, he goes to Geto directly.
It’s a busy night, and every dancer works the floor. Well, almost. 
You’re kneeling between his spread legs, spit dribbling down your chin, whimpering while trying to open your throat for him.
He brushes your hair away from your face, watching your mouth messily slurp around his cock under his desk—his jaw is slack, and his other hand clenches on the armrest of his chair. “So good—fuck, baby—so fucking pretty,” he mutters, his top teeth catching his bottom lip.
His head tilts back when you eagerly fill your mouth with him again and again until he feels you choke, making his thighs flex under your hands. Geto’s thumb smooths an arc across your cheek.
“There you go,” he huffs. “I love that little mouth—”
There’s a knock on his door, and he feels you panic, moving to pull off his cock. But the hand in your hair tightens, keeping you pressed against him. Your nails bite into his skin, tears prickling your lashline as small distressed mewls escape your lips.
“Don’t you dare fucking stop,” he hisses. “Not unless I say so.”
Another knock echoes in his office.
“Come in.”
The customer with the too-shiny tie and a penchant for slipping thousands into your g-string opens the door with a smile on his face and a glint in his eye, sauntering into the room like he owns the place. “How about that deal—”
Whatever he’s about to ask is lost on Geto because his ears are ringing when he feels you swallow around him, and his balls draw up tight against his body, and—
Possessive!Geto who grunts when you moan around his cock as he cums down your throat, his lips twitching at the look of shock on the customer’s face.
“I’ve heard your deal,” he says eventually, glancing down at your glazed eyes and wiping away what little mess escaped your mouth with his thumb. “But she’s not yours to take.”
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norrisleclercf1 · 6 days
Note
Ooooo how about Mafia norstappen and reader with kids where there’s intruders that come into the home and max goes protective mode
Love all your recent blurbs🫶🏼
Movie nights were your favorite. The your two kiddos and your third on the way would quiet down and just lay still and watch the movie. Max and Lando would forget about work and hold the three of you, but you could tell they were still on edge watching everything around them.
"Daddy, tight." You turn seeing how Lando's arm was tight around your baby girl Violetta's waist. Lando's arm relaxes and you see the instant regret in his eyes as he leans down placing a soft kiss on top of her head. At 4 she was every bit of her father. Looking at Lando and her now people would think she was his, but really she was every bit of Max's. Her wild curls were blonde with those sparkling blues everyone fell in love with. She had his fiery attitude as well.
"Sorry, princess." Lando whispers and readjusts them to lie down and she giggles, lying on his chest which has him smiling. Max's hand starts to move again, as you laid against his chest. Your little boy, Michael was the spitting image of Lando. It freaked Max out sometimes just how Michael was the carbon copy of Lando.
You still remember playing a game of baby pictures and asking him which was Lando and Michael. Max felt like crying from that game honestly. Little Michael all 2 years old of him was conked out, drooling a little on Max's shirt who didn't even seem to care. "You're thinking to hard," Max whispers, giving you a soft kiss that has you sighing. "Not that hard, just thinking how much I love our family." Max hums and nods in agreement.
You settle back down, your mind and eyes drifting off to sleep when you hear something shatter from upstairs. Sitting up quickly you almost scream when a hand covers your mouth but you notice it's your husband. "Shhh, someone is in the house, come on." Lando whispers, grabbing your hand. You look around, noticing your babies are gone. "Lan," You almost sob but he turns, "Max got them, they're okay, I promise." You nod as he leads you through the house.
"In," Lando opens a small bookcase and you move and sigh seeing your babies asleep and cuddled together. Lando follows and cocks his gun slowly, not to scare the kids as he closes the bookshelf. "How'd they get in? Where are the guards?" You ask, shaking as Lando puts the gun down and pulls you into his arms, kissing the top of your head. "I don't know, but it's going to be okay." You shake your head no. Not believing him.
"Where's Max?" You twist around trying to find out where your other husband is, as Lando's hands tighten on you, refusing to let you go. "Stop, please, he's going.....he'll be okay." Lando's voice wavers and you start to move around more but he stops you.
"Dammit, no," Lando moves covering your mouth and you hear footsteps outside the bookshelf you both freeze, Lando grabbing the gun and holds it up. You try to hold your breathing as the bookshelf cracks open. "Lan? Schat?" You both let out a sigh of breath as Max comes into view.
You balk, shocked to see Max covered in blood but Lando doesn't as he crushes him in a hug. Max sighs and runs his still wet hands through Lando's hair. "How many?" "Don't worry about it," Max whispers and notices your hesitancy to move. You knew their life, what it held, the violence, but they never brought it before you.
"I'll shower, when I can. The others are here, um, cleaning." You just nod and Max looks at his babies and sigh Lando whispers something that has Max nodding. "Are you and the baby okay?" He asks, and you hold your stomach nodding, the little one had been kicking the entire time.
"We're okay," Max nods and Lando looks over him making sure he wasn't injured. You knew Max was ruthless, but you never truly know the lengths someone will go for their children, tonight you saw just a small glimpse of that length, you hope to god you never see the end of it.
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cocklessboy · 1 year
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I see a lot of people saying that gender-affirming health care like top surgery for trans people like myself should be freely available (which is correct), but one of the reasons they often give is that top surgery is very safe and has a very low rate of complications compared to other surgeries. And I often see transphobes clutching their pearls over the few people who do have complications. What about them?! What if you're one of the unlucky ones?! Should we really let those transes risk it??!!!
Setting aside the fact that no one raises such concerns over other types of surgery, I'd like to use myself as an example for anyone who needs one.
In May of 2022 I had top surgery (double mastectomy). The surgery was done by a gynecological surgeon, not a plastic surgeon, because that way my insurance would cover it.
The surgeon did his job and removed the breast tissue, but he did not make it look pretty. I have dog-ears at both ends of both scars (extra bits of skin that hang off in a very unappealing fashion), my chest still looks unnaturally flat with no muscle or fat despite a lot of working out, and one of the stitches didn't heal properly and was left as an open wound through "secondary healing" for several months before it finally healed over into a very large scab (and eventually a very large scar). My nipples are uneven and irregular and look... well, just awful, really. Due to bad genetic luck, I wound up with keloid scars which, instead of getting smaller and lighter over time, have instead expanded, becoming thicker and darker. Worst of all, I now have chronic nerve pain in my chest. My GP thinks the surgeon must have hit a nerve during the procedure, and now I have random sharp pains all over my chest even now, nearly ten months later. The pain might improve with time, or it might not.
I basically had almost every possible complication one can have from this surgery short of infection or death. Some of the aesthetics might be fixable with more surgery (though plastic surgery will be expensive). Some are probably permanent. I might never feel comfortable taking my shirt off in public again. I might have to tattoo over the scars.
And pay attention to this next bit, because it's the most important part of this whole post: I do not regret the surgery. Even with all the complications and the ugly state of my chest and the pain. If someone said they could push a button and make it so that the surgery never happened and I'd have a perfect, unmarred chest with C-cup breasts again, I would tell them to take their button and fuck right off. Because even with basically the worst of all possible outcomes, that surgery was the best thing that ever happened to me.
I don't feel good about taking my shirt off in front of people now. I do think my chest is ugly. But it's a male chest now. When I put on a t-shirt, it rests flat against my chest. No one will ever mistake me for a woman again. I'll never have to wear a bra or binder ever again.
The dysphoria I felt from having breasts was so severe that a hideously scarred chest and chronic pain are vastly preferable. The euphoria I feel when I look in the mirror with a shirt on is something I never knew I was capable of feeling.
And it's my fucking body, and it's up to me what I do with it. If I wanted to tattoo myself from head to toe, or file my teeth into fangs, or have a doctor break my legs and surgically implant extensions to make me taller, that's my right because it's my body. The fact that all those things are regarded as basically acceptable (if a little weird), but I had to have a dehumanizing interview with an old cis psychiatrist who hates trans people and wants us all sterilized just to get a piece of paper giving me permission to have my tits removed, is fucking absurd.
Top surgery (of any kind) is generally very safe, and complications are rare. But even with the worst outcome, a trans person will basically never regret it.
And frankly, if a cis woman wants her tits cut off, or a cis man wants a pair of boobs to play with on his own chest, more power to them because literally who gives a fuck what people do to their own bodies? I saw a dude on TV when I was a kid who'd tattooed his whole body to look like a cat, filed his teeth into fangs, and had loads of plastic surgery to surgically implant whiskers and make his face look more feline. It was weird! But literally no one said that should be banned because he might regret it. It's his body to do whatever weird shit he wants with.
The next time someone clutches their pearls and kicks and screams about how you can't let someone permanently alter their body in a way they might regret, feel free to point to me and my complete and utter lack of regret.
(Or have a little fun with it, go hard in the other direction, and say you absolutely agree, which is why we should ban ALL non-emergency surgeries until the patient has been FULLY evaluated by three psychiatrists - along with tattoos and piercings. Oh, and ballet lessons for anyone under the age of 25, since ballet changes the structure of a child's body FOREVER.)
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aphrogeneias · 8 months
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don't go (sharing your devotion) — one-shot
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: eddie's jealousy was loud, just like everything else he did. or, eddie realizes he can't keep being the sole object of his best friend's attention forever and ends up screwing things up.
maybe it was about time.
word count: 2.1k
warnings: friends to lovers, jealousy (on eddie's side, he's not proud of it), light angst, unresolved sexual tension, a little bit of smut (+18), a hint of sub!eddie
author's note: was inspired to upload this to tumblr by @cursedyuta's stellar subby eddie content, and it made me remember i had this hidden. this was supposed to be two-part but i couldn't find the motivation to write any more, i'm sorry about the open ending! maybe it will gain a follow up one day, never say never <3
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Eddie's jealousy was loud, just like everything else he did.
It stemmed from regret, pure and simple. Regret of not asking you out all the times you were alone with him, of not confessing his feelings, of not making you his when he had the chance. You weren't his, no matter how much he acted like you were.
As far as everyone was concerned, you were Eddie's girl. Being the only girl in The Hellfire Club — until Erica Sinclair's unexpected arrival, that was — and the only girl he was always seen with, it was easy to make that assumption, and neither of you really cared to clear those rumors. Something in his chest swelled with pride anytime someone called you his girlfriend and all you did was roll your eyes, but never tell them they were wrong.
Sometimes he wondered if you knew. You had to know, he wasn't exactly hiding.
His reputation did most of the work to keep guys away from you, but there were a few, brave ones who weren't really intimidated by Eddie "The Freak" Munson — alleged satanist, cult leader and whatever other false atrocity this town was willing to put on his shoulders. Those brave ones, the ones who asked you on dates and dared keep you from spending time with him, suffered with Eddie's relentless, petty teasing and practiced death stares.
Steve Harrington didn't seem easily intimidated by him in the slightest, though.
Eddie had all but scoffed when you told him you'd been going out with the former King of Hawkins High. It wasn’t until he saw the two of you together that reality started to sink in.
He didn't mean for things to get ugly, but the moment realized you were slipping through his fingers was an awakening he didn't think he could handle.
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"What was all that about?"
Eddie shrugged, running a hand through his shaggy hair, a little humid from sweat. It was hot that night, even hotter inside the small downstairs bathroom you locked yourself with him in. Outside, the small party the drama club kids were throwing went on, voices and music being muffled by the closed door.
"I just wanted to know what Harrington was doing hanging out with low lives like us. Can't I be curious?" His voice was a bit slurred, no doubt from all the cheap beer he downed before and after Corroded Coffin's gig, fuming as he stared at you from across the room, all tangled with Steve, laughing at his jokes.
You leaned on the tiled wall, crossing your arms. He tried not to let his eyes wander lower, to the way your tits were pushed up in that halter top that left little to the imagination, but his was already running wild. "Do you hear yourself, Eddie? When you speak? Or did all that headbanging finally mess with your brain?"
"I think that would be the drugs, sweetheart."
It was a poor attempt to make you laugh, he knew. You knew it too, because your face remained impassive.
"You were curious, then. That's why you threw a fucking scene? Is that why you acted like an idiot and dragged me along with you, in front of all of those people?"
"Wouldn't be the first time." He mumbled, now unable to meet your eyes. Shame was something Eddie rarely felt, comfortable in his own skin most of the time, no matter what other people thought — but when it came to you, all he wanted to do was shield you from those same judgemental gazes, but instead, he put you right in the way of their scrutiny.
All because he couldn't stand the sight of you flirting with someone else.
"Goddamnit, Eddie! Can't you be serious for once in your life? This isn't the first time you do this shit but this time you went too far."
"I didn't like watching Harrington being all over you, okay? I didn't like knowing he's going to take advantage of you just like he does with all those other girls. Is that what you want to hear?"
He knew he was exaggerating, in fact, he knew nothing about Steve Harrington's intentions towards you, or any of the other girls he was seen around with, but none of that mattered to the ugly, jealous monster roaring in his insides.
Sighing, you close your eyes before looking right into his. "No, Eddie. That's not what I want to hear, but an apology would be nice."
The words "I'm Sorry" were stuck inside his throat, along with those three little words he struggled to say to you, as he watched you leave through the door and lose yourself amongst the crowd.
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The day after your fight was spent in his trailer, nursing a bad hangover and a broken heart, both of which were his own fault, and the consequences of his reckless behavior. One of them hurt more than the other.
Eddie was sitting on the old brown couch on the trailer's porch as the sun went down on the horizon, smoking the uptenth cigarette of that cursed day when he saw Steve's burgundy BMW enter the trailer park from afar, and stop right in front of the Mayfield's trailer.
That wasn't unusual, since Steve was often checking up on the Mayfield girl, just as he did with Dustin, as far as Eddie knew. What was different this time was you on his passenger seat, looking as pretty as you did the night before. He stood up as he watched you talk, his heart clenching inside his chest when you exchanged a quick kiss before you both left the car, Steve going into the Mayfield's home and you made your way to the opposite side.
His side.
He could see it from afar, the pain in your eyes. There was rage too, lingering, somewhere in there. Your hips swayed with the determined movements of your feet, and he couldn't help but let his eyes linger on the mini skirt you were wearing — the black one, his favorite. Not that you knew it was, but every time you wore it, his mind raced with thoughts of what was hidden under that tiny piece of fabric, struggling with the soft flesh of your thick thighs.
For a moment, he thought about how might look like to you, standing shirtless on his porch, a long since extinct cigarette hanging from his fingers, wearing those same old black jeans. He wondered if you could see the dark circles under his eyes, or if his hair looked like the bird's nest it certainly felt like. Eddie felt sick, unworthy of your presence, unworthy of you. He kept wishing you would turn away, back to the golden boy who had apparently won your heart, but suddenly there you were, right in front of him.
"Will you let me in, please? We need to talk."
Not trusting his voice, he nodded, stopping out of the porch and towards the door, where you followed him to. Once you were inside, the silence between you was heavy, oppressive, until you were the one who broke it.
“You know, you can’t keep guys away from me forever.” There was a shy, almost teasing, smile behind your words.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
He avoided your eyes, tracking back further into the house and in the direction of his room, knowing you would follow him. The angry stomp of your boots behind him was like music to his ears, it made his heart race into his ribcage unlike any heavy beat of bass drums.
At that moment, Eddie couldn't find anything more beautiful than you — standing in the yellow light of his room, eyes set on him, brows and lips set on a hard line, making him want to reach out and run his fingers through them to soothe your expression. You looked like an avenging angel, a goddess come to put him in his place.
There was no one else he'd rather be on his knees for.
“Yes, you do. You know exactly what I’m talking about, and the worst part is that you keep acting like nothing is happening, like… like you haven’t been doing this for years. Eddie, I’m…”, it weighed on his heart, the way you sighed deeply, stopping yourself mid-sentence, “I’m tired. I’m tired of dancing around whatever is going on here, so you’ll either spit it out and tell me what you want, or I’m gonna walk out of here and go home with Steve, because at least he’s not the one bullshitting me.”
It wasn’t often that Eddie Munson was left speechless.
Ever the wordsmith, he should have had the perfect excuse on the tip of his tongue, but instead, he has nothing. Eddie watched you with dark eyes, burning under your gaze, his mouth sewn shut. With one last look, a bullet through his already wrecked chest, you turned to leave.
"No, no, no!" Panicking as he felt you slipping through his fingers, Eddie finally reached out, running to stand between you and the door, voice rising in a whine, "Don't go with Harrington. Please, I'll do anything you want, just… stay, please?"
You hesitated a little before coming closer, neatly brushing his chest with yours, your perfume making him almost dizzy, making him close his eyes for a moment, taking you in.
"All I want is for you to tell me what you want." You insisted.
Placing his hands on his hips, the same hands that were itching to touch you, and looking up, chuckling with nervousness, he finally confessed, "I want you. Is that good enough for you, huh? Is that what you want to hear?" He caught himself repeating the same words as yesterday, only this time, he meant then. "In fact, you're all I've ever wanted. I want you so bad it's embarrassing, Y/N. It's fucking ruining me."
Eddie was met with silence, but at the same time he looked down to you, you raised your hands to rest them on his chest, spreading heat through the worn out Sabbath shirt he was wearing and into his skin. "Did it kill you to admit that?"
"No, but you are, baby."
"Consider it payback for all the years you wasted being an asshole and not realizing you could have had me this whole time."
Pushing him slightly, taking advantage of How distracted he was by your unexpected — or should they be expected? — words, you maneuvered the both of you until he felt his knees hit the edge of his bed.
"Can I still have you now?"
With a final push from your delicate hands, Eddie landed softly on the bed, lying on his back, his hair falling like a dark halo around his bed. He saw your expression soften as you climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. This time, he didn't restrain from touching you, letting his hands slide over the skin of your soft thighs, squeezing them lightly. He could feel the heat of your pussy from under the thin fabric of your panties, making him swallow back a moan. He wanted to grind against you, release a little of the tension rising in his jeans, but he kept still, waiting for your next move.
It felt like a dream, you on top of him, looking like every bit of a wet dream as well. Your hands grabbed his wrists and positioned them above his head as you lowered your face right above his flustered one.
"You see, the thing is… I don't think you deserve to have me right now, Eddie baby. You need to think about what you've done a little more, don't you think?"
A shiver ran down his spine with your words, making his body writhe under you, a wild fire spreading through him, ready to eat him alive — just like you looked like you were about to do.
"See, I'm gonna have to go and find a way to let Steve down gently, and then we're gonna talk, actually talk, about whatever this is," you motioned with your head at the two of you, "okay? No more running, no more hiding."
"No more running, no more hiding." He nodded frantically, repeating your words. Eager to get on your good side again.
"Good." You placed a sweet kiss to his forehead, a stark contrast to the torture you were putting him through. "Was that so hard?"
You had no idea.
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cozage · 11 months
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Could you write headcanons where luffy, sanji, law, and zoro react to their s/o shouting i hate you in a heated argument out of anger and it’s angst to comfort because she didn’t really mean it? thank you <3
A/N: Wow! Talk about complete opposites here with Sanji & Luffy vs Law & Zoro. This was a fun angst request! Thanks!
Characters: female reader x luffy, sanji, law, zoro
Cw: angst (but all happy endings!)
Total word count: 1k
Hate is Such a Strong Word
Luffy
You can see the shock in his eyes, the pain in his face. It’s so clear that he’s taken aback by your words and for the first time in your recent memory, Luffy is silent for a long time. He just stares at you, trying to decipher your words.
You instantly regret saying it. He’s like a little puppy who’s been scolded and didn’t even realize what he did wrong. Except he does realize what he did, he just didn’t realize it was such a big deal until this moment. 
His voice trembles when he speaks. “You don’t mean that, do you? You don’t really hate me, right?”
He wraps you in a hug, not giving you a chance to respond. He holds you so tight there's no chance for escape. “Take it back,” he begs. “I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me.”
You sigh, wrapping your arms around him too. “No, Luffy, I don’t hate you. I'm sorry I said that.”
He gives you an extra tight squeeze and then releases you. He’s not one to hold a grudge, so he apologizes again for upsetting you and promises to do better in the future, already forgetting your misspoken words. 
Sanji
As soon as the words came out of your mouth, Sanji knew his worst nightmare had come true. You were finally done with him.
He spent a moment deciding if he should beg for forgiveness or if he should accept your hatred, but you stormed out of the room before he could make a decision. 
He prepares the finest snacks for you and the girls to share. He silently sets them down while you all are chatting, even though you’re still giving him the cold shoulder. He lets you vent and get everything off your chest with them, even if it makes him look like the bad guy. 
He spends all afternoon preparing your favorite dessert, and when he sees that you’re finally done talking with the girls, he calls you over and apologizes for his wrongdoing that made you so upset. You accept both his verbal apology and his dessert one. 
But things are different between you two. He’s more distant, more nervous around you than before. Finally you confront him about it, and he admits your words have been weighing on his mind. 
It’s then that you realize how important words are to Sanji. You apologize with words and kisses and anything else you can think of to make it up to him. You remind yourself to give him more words of affirmation to help show your love, and you swear that those words will never come out of your mouth again. 
Law
His eye twitches when you scream it out to him, and his face turns to steel. “If you hate me so much, then leave.”
He storms out of the room without letting you respond. He wants the satisfaction of having the last word in this argument. You’re too angry to care.
He locks himself in his office for the most part. When he comes out of his room, he rampages through the ship. He’s slamming doors and cabinets shut, throwing things down harder than normal, everything he does is just super aggressive. 
“Why don't you just apologize?” Penguin finally asks. “Because I didn’t do anything wrong!” Law yells back, his words echoing through the whole ship. 
This man is too prideful to apologize first. It’s a waiting game between the two of you. You don’t sleep together, he stops eating meals with the crew.
You finally cave, and knock softly on his office door. He doesn’t answer.
“I’m sorry I said I hated you,” you say through the door. “I didn’t mean it. I don’t know why I said that. It was a really stupid thing to say”
The door finally opens, and you can see dark circles under his eyes. He pulls you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head. “And I’m sorry for what I did. I’ll do better in the future.” 
The whole crew breathes a sigh of relief, knowing you two are okay again.
Zoro
At first the words didn't faze him. You continued screaming at each other, voices rising louder to outdo one another. 
And then the words came again. “I hate you Roronoa Zoro. I’ll never forgive you for this!” you screamed, and you stormed out the door, slamming it behind you. 
It was in the silence after that he realized the impact of your words. And he realizes that he’s scared. 
He tries to push down his anxiety by hiding in the crow’s nest and working out relentlessly. He’s avoiding everyone, but mostly you and your wrath.
He prays that you’ll come apologize to him, but after two days you still haven’t appeared in the crows nest. He’s constantly glancing out the deck, trying to find a glimpse of you whenever he can without getting caught. 
On the afternoon of the third day, he realizes he’ll have to spend another night without you if he doesn’t apologize soon, and he finally gives in. He climbs down the ladder and walks over to where you and Nami are sunning in some lounge chairs and stands over top of you, clearing his throat. “Can I talk to you alone?” his voice comes out irritated unintentionally.
“Not with that tone,” you shoot back, still mad at him. He grits his teeth, and you see a blush start to appear over his cheeks. 
“I’m sorry,” he says, and you can hear that he’s being genuine. “I didn’t mean to make you so upset.”
You sigh and get up from the chair, leading him away to talk in private. He continues to apologize, asking you how he can do better in the future. 
You’re pleased with this development, and you give him a quick peck on the lips to show all is well again. “I’m sorry too,” you say. “I said a lot of things I didn’t mean.”
“So, we’re okay?” he asks, looking at you inquisitively. “We’re okay,” you assure him.
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reiderwriter · 4 months
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could you write a fic with a fem reader where spencer’s going through withdrawal and he’s being like snappy and stuff when she’s just trying to help? idk if that makes sense?
A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I'm sorry it took me so long ㅠㅠ I hope this is everything you were looking for!!
Pairing: Spencer Reid × GN! reader
Warnings: mentions of drug use, mentions of addiction in the family, and spoilers for Season 2 of Criminal Minds.
You can check out my masterlist here!
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In comparison with the other members of the BAU, you had the most experience with recovery. So you knew that it wasn't easy. Spencer Reid didn't. 
The moment you'd noticed him stepping out on the team, spending more time isolated and with a shorter temper, you knew. Tobias Hankel had only tortured Spencer for a day, but he was still inside him even months later. 
The day you realised he was using, you moved yourself into his apartment. 
“Hi,” you said as he opened the doors, bleary-eyed from whatever hit he just dealt himself. “My apartment flooded, and I had nowhere else to go.” 
Spencer Reid would always help others before he helped himself. It took a few more hours to broach the discussion of the drugs, but when you did get him to give in, you could feel the weight flowing off his shoulders. 
“I can't get his face out of my mind. The drugs, they help. And I know they're not really helping, but it's like I'm not strong enough to care.” He'd broken down into tears, placed his supply on the tables in front of you  and picked open the wound that had never fully healed properly. 
Step one to recovery was accepting you needed help. Step two was harder. 
Slowly decreasing his intake until he was free of the drug. Watching him for any negative reactions in the field and at home, dealing with the underlying trauma. 
You had to talk to Hotch about it, of course. But he knew about your father, and to a certain extent, you knew about his. A single shared look was enough for you both to agree that Spencer needed everyone's support. 
So you dropped him off at his meetings. You picked him up afterwards. You watched him in the field for any mention of addiction and drug-related psychosis that could lead him down a dark path of what ifs. 
You held his hand. You kissed his head. You were there. 
Even when he tried to show you he didn't deserve it. 
“Spencer,” you'd started the conversation trying to get his attention, knowing from the far away look that he was missing the numbness that came with the high. 
“Spencer, you look tense. Are you okay?” He'd whipped his head around at the words, a scowl on his face. 
“You don't need to hover over me like I'm a child, Y/N.” 
“I want to know that you're okay.” You said back, pouring yourself a glass of water to calm yourself again. Sometimes, Spencer made every little question an attack, and you had to learn to dodge the blows.
“I can take care of myself.”
“I want to take care of you.” Your calm reply had him angrier though, as he snorted with a single reply. 
“Like you took care of your dad? That worked out so well, didn't it.” 
Ten years and any mention of the man who had raised you still had you freezing in shock. You almost didn't notice when your glass tumbled to the ground, to be smashed into a thousand tiny pieces.
It was almost as if the crash woke Spencer up from his stupor, his gaze growing regretful as he stood and approached you quickly. 
With a hand and a shake of a head, you stopped him, though.
“Let me clear the large pieces on my own. I don't want you to get hurt.” Kneeling, you did just that, picking out recognisable edges and sides and transporting them carefully into the trash. 
“I'm not going to sit here and let you do all the work, Y/N. I'm… I'm sorry.” His voice whispered those last few words as he kneeled next to you  sweeping the glass up, careful not to cut himself on it. 
You wiped the tears from your eyes as both of you worked busily, letting your argument hang in the air between you.
“I know you're sorry, Spencer,” you whispered as the two of you worked, still not brave enough to look him in the eyes. “My dad was, too. He never meant it, though.” 
“I mean it.” He stopped moving, and you finally looked up to his eyes, to the life there that sparked, that had been buried by Tobias Hankel. Motivation. 
With the glass cleared, he stood, reaching out a hand to you to help you up. You took it, letting him assist you. He didn't let go after, though. Not immediately. 
He stepped closer, and you relaxed into his chest, resting an ear over his heart. It was still beating, and that was what mattered. 
“I can't fix you, Spencer. I can't make this better. I can't do that for you, because you have to do it for yourself. That's what my dad never understood.” Your voice was barely audible, but you knew he could hear and knew he was listening. 
“I can't reverse what he did to you. But I promise, I will be here to remind you that you are a good man. To remind you of what you are like when you're you  how much I love you, how much we all love you.”
“I'll stand next to you and look into that mirror every morning and tell you what I see. A good man on the bad days, the same man on the good days. I don't want to fix you, Spencer. I want to love you, and I want you to accept that you're worth it.”
His head rested on top of yours, and you could feel his small wrecks of tears as he sniffled. Inhaling your scent, he could've spent the night wrapped in your arms like that.
“Thank you. For saying that. For being here. I know it's not easy.” 
“It's not. But you're worth it.” Clinging to him, you let the moments tick by, never releasing him from your warm embrace. 
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stsgluver · 6 months
Text
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synopsis. in which gojo wasn't the one sliced and diced.
wc. 550
tags. MAJOR JJK 236 SPOILERS, angst lol
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gojo satoru had abandonment issues.
having lost his best friend and several close allies, loss had become a norm for him. it was expected. those who got close to gojo satoru died. his attachment was a death sentence. it wasn't a secret; he heard the whispers and saw those pitiful glances from sorcerers who only cared about their clan name, having never truly been forced to face curses head-on.
so he with all of this in mind, he couldn't understand why you stayed.
satoru had tried to push you away and keep you at arm's length, he really really had. but no matter how harsh his words were, how overwhelming he made his cursed energy, you still smiled and held out a bag of treats you'd bought him whilst he was away, or was the first one to offer any assistance with his students. even though he knew the latter scared you following the loss of haibara in your first year.
that was his first mistake: opening the door just enough that you could slowly slip your way in.
his second was letting you meet megumi. it was no secret that the spiky-haired boy wasn't fond of satoru or his parenting methods, but he did not expect him to be so welcoming of you. there were many a time satoru would come home after a day at the high school to megumi at the kitchen island with you helping him with his homework. or to the two of you in a blanket fort (he was especially jealous at this because how dare you make one without him) watching whatever film you could find.
by that point, you'd closed and locked the door, swallowing they key so satoru could never force you to leave.
it terrified him. there were no labels but he was hopelessly and irrevocably yours, there was no doubt about that.
you stuck around longer than anyone ever had before. so much so that satoru stopped having those nightmares - the ones where you died slowly in his arms because he was never enough to save the ones he loved - because you were by his side at every waking minute. he kid himself into believing that could last forever.
"don't cry." satoru can barely comprehend how you even have the energy to talk. it only further shattered him as your last words were to comfort him. as if though he were the one who had selfishly (yes, selfishly because how could you trade your life for his after knowing everything you meant to him) taken a hit not meant for them. as if though he was the one in literally two pieces.
he couldn't even do as you wish, the hot tears rolling down his cheeks creating streaks through the grime and blood that stained his porcelain skin. he wanted to apologise, to tell you that he loved you and that he could fix you, but it was like all of the air had been knocked from his lungs.
you had seconds left in you, and yet still, there was a ghost of a smile on your face as you stared up into the eyes of the man who held your heart so carefully. "i will never regret loving you gojo satoru."
satoru will always regret loving you.
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a/n. it's never gojover. go avenge yn bbygirl xxx
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partycatty · 16 days
Note
thinking about young mk11 johnny being a bad boyfriend then you meet him again years later when he’s mature and he REGRETS IT SO BAD
i have so many ideas but i can’t get them out recently so ur account gives me life lol <3
OUGH it aches in the bones
older!johnny cage > as the day you left
notes: oooghuig "in another life" trope hurts so BAD.
[ masterlist ]
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• a military job wasn't in your grand plan, but a position opened for equipment maintenance it was hard to turn down the potentially heavy paycheck.
• you were buried in your paperwork, taking quick strides to your office to make sense of your diagnostics and order the proper parts for one of the on-field machines when you slam into what feels like a brick wall. just as the force of the blow sends you backward, a hand grabs your arm and suspends you mid-fall.
• you don't even have time to properly react to the scene, only opening your harshly clenched eyes to meet your savior.
• "sorry, i wasn't looking where i—" your apology was cut off when you properly processed just who was in front of you. even with the tattoo peeking through his shirt, you knew that face from anywhere. "johnny?"
• you expected johnny to not even remember you, maybe take a second to realize you weren't just a fan. this expectation is torn from you when he replies with your name, loud and clear. his eyes are wide. gently, he lets go of you to allow you to regain your footing, pulling away as if you were a glass doll bound to shatter.
• he looked the same as when you walked out, perhaps a little more weathered but glowing with charm and personality just as he did twenty odd years ago. thankfully, you thought, he never lost that puppy-like shine in his eyes.
• the moment was lost to him the second he locked eyes. just like that, a torrent of memories flooded back to him. you two were young, too young to be serious in his eyes. johnny was in his acting prime and he couldn't help but flaunt it. all those smiles and sparkly outfits for the cameras but as soon as you were behind closed doors you were nothing more but exhausted.
• "i can't keep living like my life is under a microscope," you huffed, shrugging off the luxury shawl johnny went through hell to make sure you'd have for the red carpet. "would it kill you to just settle down, slow down? i want kids, johnny! i want to go to the store without paparazzi up my ass, i don't need stalkers on our property, i don't need the gold and glamor all the damn time!"
• "well, that's on you for choosing a megastar!" johnny shouted back, undoing his tie in one harsh tug. "all you've ever done is complain when you are literally living large! mansions, super cars, money! and you're complaining."
• you spin around, a horrified expression on your face as you unpacked his wording. "i didn't choose a megastar," your voice drops, so angry you couldn't bring yourself to shout. "i chose john carlton. where the hell is he now, because all i see is a narcissistic child that refuses to grow up."
• you slide your engagement ring off and you slam it into the ground. johnny's eyes widen as he immediately drops to his knees, trying desperately to grasp at the ring as it rolls and spirals out of grasp. he curses to himself, then at you.
• "look at yourself," you grit your teeth. "you care more about a rock than your fiancée. we're done, johnny. you can go tell the media that, too, since that's all you care about."
• johnny blinks once, then twice. he swallows thickly.
• "i'm sorry," is all he can mutter out. god, how he wishes he could say more, but time felt nonexistent when looking at your face. you, however, didn't quite understand his meaning and brushed yourself off.
• "no, it's fine, really," you try to shove past him, anything to break this eye contact that feels as if it's pulling you apart piece by piece. as you think you're out of the weeds, his hand finds its place on your arm once more.
• "please look at me," he pleads, voice barely above a mumble. "i-i haven't seen you in..."
• "—twenty six years," you blink up at him, straining yourself so hard to not break down. "forget it."
• "i'm sorry," he emphasizes the phrase again. "i... i was an asshole, an arrogant, self-centered—"
• "johnny." you cut him off, face stern but voice soft. "it was so many years ago."
• "i know, i know, but — fuck — you've... you've been on my mind this entire time. you never left. god, when you left it felt like my entire... everything fell apart."
• you want to interject, stop him from this spiral, but you can tell he had it bottled up for so long, you'd be cruel to deny him of it now. that, and you had an unfortunate tendency to hear people out and forgive those who don't need your forgiveness.
• "when you walked out i realized just how good i could've had it. you were the only sane person in my world, you tried so hard to keep me in track but i was so afraid of being nothing that i... chose my priorities wrong. you know, i've kept your contact information, even... just in case."
• "i changed my number years ago, johnny. to stop the media from bugging me for a comment."
• "just another thing i fucked up," he runs a hand through his hair. "sorry, i don't mean to be all self destructive." he pauses, and eyes you down. you yourself aged well too, fine lines and trickles of grey hair peeking through your uniform hat. johnny chuckles dryly as his eyes focus on the little details. "you look just as beautiful as the day you left me."
• "don't do this," you quietly plead, eyes now feeling wet and face feeling hot. "not now. not after all this time."
• "i..." he swallows again, now averting his eye contact. the pause is long, and you almost considered walking away before he speaks up again. "i got married, by the way, though i'm sure you saw... in the news."
• "i haven't." johnny shoots a dubious look at you, then realizes you probably avoided his name like the plague in news articles.
• "my wife runs the army. my daughter is commander."
• "daughter?" now it was your turn to frown.
• "cass... cassandra?" johnny explains, though you sense a hint of shame in his tone. "cassie."
• "didn't strike you for a family man." the irony stings when it slips past your lips.
• "i didn't either," he wipes his face. "but i realized... far too late... that what i wanted more than a legacy for myself was a legacy for my family. i wanted my efforts to mean something. i wanted to better the world with more than just shitty movies."
• just as your turn rose to frown, now you couldn't help but let out a chuckle yourself. "your movies weren't shitty," you reply, smiling weakly. "i liked them."
• "no you didn't," his grin is teasing, and you notice just how deep his smile lines were. "no need to lie."
• "honest to god," you hold a hand up, swearing. "they were a nice escape from reality."
• his lips turn into a fine line. maybe your choice of wording was more painful than intended. his fists clench and unclench and you watch his mouth fight to get more words out.
• "i wish..." the always confident actor couldn't bring himself to look at you. "i wish i had grown up sooner, you know." johnny could be digging a dangerous hole, but he didn't care in the moment. he felt young again, nostalgic. "we could have had a life like this together, like you want... wanted."
• "you have that now," you get defensive, trying to put a barrier between his words and your heart. "a wife, a kid, a good job. you got what you wanted."
• "but it's not with you."
• whether it was dread or excitement, your heart flutters. was it really true that after all this time, he still wanted you, missed you like you missed his mature self? your thoughts of what could've been claw their way into your mind, and you feel hazy. your eyes wander around his form again, taking in his impressive physique, kind eyes, mature outfit... stopping at the ring finger. your breath feels sucked from your lungs when you pull yourself back to reality.
• "maybe in another life," you propose, a weak shrug tugging at your shoulders. "but i hope you know i don't... i don't regret what we had. our story, though, ended twenty six years ago, johnny. you're in a new chapter, enjoy it, okay?"
• the rejection at his desperation feels like a gunshot to the chest, like he could just die then and there. yeah, he had roots here, but if you had just asked him to run away with you, lord knows he'd consider it. but you wouldn't ask him to do such a thing, when he's finally got his shit figured out.
• another coworker enters the long hallway, entranced in their task that tears both of your attentions away from the heavy conversation. you know even still that his reputation is important, on screen and now off, too. so, you abandon the conversation as it stands, not giving johnny a chance to agree to your request and spin on your heel, returning to your own assignment and leaving him to his own. your head is down as you hug the papers, wishing to forget that you work with your ex-soulmate. it's an impossible task, really, when you catch his lingering cologne and scent on your body from his hold. that scent didn't change, either.
• johnny feels frozen in place, afraid to move and lose the moment where it stands. he watches you until you turn the corner, and listens for your footsteps until there isn't a trace of them anymore. his heart feels... heavy.
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nouvxllev · 3 months
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the girl across your street || pt4
Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader
Summary: You imagine telling Jenna it was her that made you pursue your dreams in becoming a director. Yet, you imagine telling her you carried your love for her as if it were a burden. You made her your temple, your mural, your sky, now you weren't so sure who she was to you anymore. It was the day she came back, your soul could never be more disoriented.
Words: 3.3k
Warnings: slight angst, swearing, and probably (?) the longest chapter.
a/n: sneaked a taylor swift lyric in there
part 5 || masterlist
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You feel nothing.
You feel like crying. 
You feel like shouting at her.
You feel you like want to tell her how much you went through because of her.
Yet, you feel nothing more than to kiss her.
You imagine telling Jenna it was her that made you pursue your dreams in becoming a director. Yet, you imagine telling her you carried your love for her as if it were a burden. You made her your temple, your mural, your sky, now you weren't so sure who she was to you anymore. It was the day she came back, your soul could never be more disoriented.
You turned your heel, heading the way to who knows where. You just wanted to fill the consuming void of your heart with something, anything.
"Y/n! Y/n, wait, please!" Jenna's voice reached you, seeping into your heart. Yet, you blocked it out as if it were the last thing you desired, even if a part of you yearned to hear that symphony one last time.
You wanted to talk to her, you really do, but the years of pent-up anger made you hesitant. You fear you'll eventually mutter something you'll eventually regret.
"Y/n, can we talk please!? "Jenna's calls persisted, her voice trembling, and her footsteps growing louder with each plea. The ringing in your ears seemed relentless ever since she said your name.
For a moment, you stop, and for a moment, your world flickered.
"I'm surprised you even remembered my name." You turned to her, almost seeing her eyes flinch at your words.
Jenna straightened, and you couldn't help but notice the changes in her over the years. Yet, that familiar glint in her eyes remained unchanged. You don't know much about yours. "I never forgot you, Y/n."
"But you made me feel like I was."
"I didn't mean to. I—"
"What do you mean you didn't mean to, Jenna? You never told me you were moving away. You never shared anything. No texts, no calls, not even a note under my door saying you were leaving. Nothing," you began, your voice tapering off into a shaky breath, cracks surfacing.
"You called me special, one of the few you let inside your heart. Then you just went and left without a word." Tears streamed down your face as Jenna remained silent. Her lack of response told you everything. Maybe she did intend to leave, you thought, maybe she never cared about you in the first place.
"Don't you understand how much that killed me?"
Jenna's mouth opened and closed, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the right words. You wanted her to say something, really anything, anything if it meant being given an explanation.
"I'm— I'm sorry, Y/n. I thought you wouldn't really care, I— I'm really sorry."
"Wouldn't care? Jenna, I fucking loved you."
Her eyes widened, and yours did the same. Complete silence hung heavy in the air as you try to get a word in, play it off as if you didn't mean it.
"You loved me?"
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
A voice in your head told you were too deep to crawl out, submerged in your own emotions and turmoil to even see the sunlight.
"I hate how it's impossible to hate you, Jenna. Even after all those years, I still love you so much," you confessed, tears welling in your eyes, regret consuming the moment. "I can't even pretend that I hate you."
"Y/n, I also—"
"I have to go, Jenna. Forget this ever happened."
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It had been months working with Jenna, and it's been months since the both of you last talked. In that time, you swore on yourself to keep everything beneath you, and the relationship you have with Jenna is only for professional matters. It hurt you deep inside, as much it pains you to admit it, but you wished you never told her you loved her.
Emma decided to take on guiding Jenna whenever she encountered a problem, which, she never really did. She was a skilled actress, you always knew that from the bottom of your heart, and seeing her act was like something out of a fantasy. You also sometimes helped her, but you always kept it brief for God knows what. You'd always think that you'll someday break out into tears yet again.
You stared at Jenna from afar at your own seat, seated at the corner where one could assume that you're busy with your own things. You had your headphones own, funny how you had them instead of Jenna, listening to the songs that Jenna once recommended for you. To maybe just feel a little something beyond sadness.
'…I've been broken-hearted
Blue since the day we parted
Why, why did I ever let you go?
Mamma mia, now I really know
My-my I could never let you go…'
It's ironic how this is the song she recommended a while back. Maybe this was her way of telling you she was going away, who knows?
Somebody tapped on your headphones, and before you looked up, you already knew who it was.
"You alright, y/n?" Emma asked, sitting down in front of you with a bottle of wine. Emma was always the one who was there for you at your lowest, she can almost sense whenever you are.
She poured it into your glass, and you drank without a single breath wasted. You continue to pour more until Emma stopped your arm.
"Okaaaay, I think that was the signal that you aren't fine."
"I’m…" Your gaze shifted to Jenna, a smile covering her entire face as she tries to drink a whole bottle of scotch dared by her co-stars. You could almost laugh at it if you weren’t drinking until your vision turns black. "I'm fine, Emma, don't worry."
Emma eyed you, concern etched on her face. "You've been drinking your sorrows away, y/n. And I'm not talking about the good kind of drinking your sorrows away. It's the type where you're attempting to kill yourself." She attempted to lighten the mood with a smile, but your attention remained fixed on Jenna.
Emma followed your gaze and then turned back to you. "You guys should talk."
Your eyes shot to her, "What do you mean?"
"You and Jenna. You think I haven’t seen you guys looking at each other from afar?" Her mouth curved into a smirk, taking her own glass and a sip of it.
You glanced back at your playlist, the cover being Jenna herself. "I don’t want to talk to her, Emma. I mean, what would I even say?"
"I don't know, y/n. Give her a chance to talk to you. You never really did since the last time you guys talked."
"How'd you know?" Regret flooded in as you realized you let your anger get the best of you that time. You were always the one to calm down before exploding, what happened to you?
"Jenna miiight've told me." Emma noticed your furrowed eyebrows and the slight of regret in your eyes. "Don't be mad at her, y/n. She doesn't really have anyone to talk to about you."
"I… I'm not mad. Just wished she talked to me." Fiddling with your phone, your voice faltered to a whisper.
Emma sighed, it's like she was talking to a toddler at this point. "She couldn't when you built walls over her, y/n. Every time she talks to you, you dismiss her."
"I'm—"
"You're too afraid to let her into your heart one last time, y/n, I know, but continuing to do that won't let anything progress between the two of you. If anything, it just makes you more scared. Take the risk, y/n, you always loved doing that before."
Your eyes met hers, and you were surprised by the seriousness in Emma's gaze. You never really expected Emma to give a heartfelt talk, everytime she comforts you, it always had a little fun in it, but this time it was different. "You're literally the last person I should be getting a tedtalk from." You finally smiled.
Emma returned the smile, grateful she had brought some lightness back into your expression after weeks of it gone. "What can I say? I'm versatile!" Both of you turned your attention back to Jenna, who looked your way before averting her gaze.
"Looks like she's also hoping you'd come to her." Emma stood up, ready to join the rest of the group. "You'll talk to her, right?"
"I'll try."
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It was already nearing midnight, and the store was about to close. You and Emma were settling the tab for the night's expenses while the rest of the group tidied up and exchanged goodbyes but Jenna stayed on the pool table poorly wasted and most likely unconscious to the bone.
After expressing gratitude to the bar owner, you and Emma exchanged glances, both sharing concern in your eyes while looking at Jenna.
"You take her home," Emma said, running to grab her jacket, keys, and already waving goodbye.
"Wait, what!?"
"Take care, love you always!" Emma dashed to the door and swiftly made her way to her car, leaving you alone with Jenna.
"Wait! Emma!—" you shouted before turning your attention back to Jenna. You sighed, picked up her bag, and draped her coat over her. Taking a deep breath, you lifted Jenna in your arms, her limbs wrapping around your neck as her head hung low.
After several minutes of struggling to open the door with one hand, managing different heavy bags, fiddling with your car keys, and taking care of Jenna, you finally got the car door open. Carefully, you seated Jenna inside, securing her seatbelt.
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You took her in your house just across from her old one. Oh how you've missed the feeling of being with her in this neighborhood.
You kicked off your shoes then walked to your bedroom where you carefully placed Jenna onto your bed.
Sitting down beside her, you immediately realized exhaustion took a toll on you. Your eyes were already falling heavy from the amount of work you exerted, though you knew you needed a shower.
You glanced at Jenna, wondering how she even knew you were filming a set. You were an upcoming director, sure, but you never really worked on big movies with a big budget or even working with big creators. But your name was definitely known somewhat.
Sighing, you stood up to fetch clean clothes and a towel, turning on the faucet for a much-needed shower.
In your time of organizing your things and fetching some clothes, you wonder why Jenna even did all of this. You knew Jenna wasn't the one for being pressured, especially in the entertainment network. She knew a lot of people who succumbed to the pressure of being in the spotlight, a walking billboard who has less control over their life as she would say. But you also knew acting is her passion, and she embraces it like a shooting star. You could only hope she wouldn't be burnt out by the increasing amount of workload she has.
With your eyes and brain already falling asleep, you turn the lights on at your bedroom with fresh clothes hanging by your arm. You close your eyes for a brief second, trying to not get the lights shined bright at you like you just walked by heavens gate.
"Wooahoh, holy shit— fuck!"
To your surprise, Jenna was awake, and staring you dead in the eyes with her iconic Kubrik stare. Damn, after all those years, she still has that flair for scaring the living shit out of somebody.
She was sitting on the ledge of the balcony, the cold wind of air in your street brought her a sense of nostalgia. She held the broken DSLR you owned, and you noticed the faint sound of your voices, distorted by glitches.
"You kept your DSLR?"
You went over to the bathroom then turned off the faucet, placing your clothes on a hanger placed on a wall. "Well, it's my first camera. Of course, I did." You called out.
You approached Jenna, sitting down with her on the ledge. You looked up at her, and you were suddenly reminded how you fell for her in the first place.
She fiddled with the camera, scrolling through the videos until she reached the last one.
"Aliyah! Aliyah, wait!"
"Y/n! Hey…"
"Where's—Where's Jenna? Is she going back to your house for her birthday?"
"Didn't she tell you? She's going across the country; she just got cast for a character in a film!"
You could only hear the faint sound of your camera crashing onto the ground and your glitchy 'what?' being muttered in the background before the battery on your camera dies. You look up to see Jenna's face, looking like she regrets everything she has done.
"I'm—I'm sorry for saying those things when we talked." You started, getting close to her until you were facing her and in arms reach. "I should've given you the time to say your side of the story."
She put the camera down on a table that was close to your window. "It's fine, I understand, I mean, I was a total shithead." Her voice was raspy, likely from recently waking up.
You laughed a bit, funny how she was the only one that made you laugh after the years she made you cry. "You never changed."
She looked up at you, a spark coming alive in her eyes as she tries to get comfortable in your space. "I could also say the same to you, dork."
"Hey, people say I've grown out of that phase."
"You're still that same dork to me. Always so eager to film a scene, going out of your way to do some idiotic shit on film, and that sparkle in your eyes stayed the same."
It was always something from Jenna that made you absolutely mad at her. Whether it was the sound of her voice, her laugh, the warmth of her touch, her aura, the beauty of her entire being, the words she'd say, it always made you so in love with her. But what you surrendered to is the beauty of her soul. And now, it feels as if you were now so deeply in love with her like never before.
At that moment, you could only hear the beat of your heart banging against your ears. You wanted to capture this moment in time and remember it forever.
Your eyes went over to Jenna's lips then looked back at her, her eyes speaking to you as if you both knew what you wanted from each other.
You leaned in ever so slightly, your breath ghosting on Jenna's lips before laying your lips onto Jenna's.
She pressed against your body, her arms wrapping around your waist while your hands cupped her cheeks.
You, in your life, could never describe the feeling to its utmost perfection. You just couldn't. If you ever did, you'd be lying. It was perfect, more than perfect. You couldn't describe it with only one, or even a million words. No sentence, no word, no phrase, no living or dying poet could ever write the moment you're feeling without having to find new words to describe it.
Her lips onto yours was like finally finding that one puzzle piece, her body leaning onto yours was like the tides crashing with the sea, your hand holding her face was like holding the whole world in your hands. You've completely lost yourself, you knew it in your soul, and your heart was now devoured by this girl, and you had no means in returning it.
Before the touch of her lips on yours, you were nothing. You never knew how starved you were, you never knew how much you longed for the touch of her lips onto yours, you never knew how insane you were up until this point, you never knew how love could burn this bright. Especially loving Jenna. Oh, especially loving her.
And then it was all gone, and realization settled in.
You kissed her.
Holy shit you kissed her.
You kissed her and it felt like heaven.
You looked at her in disbelief, how she even accepted your kiss was even more shocking than this. "I'm.. I'm so sorry, was that okay—"
And now, it was her turn to cup your cheeks and kiss you ever so passionately. You melted in her lips, the scent of her perfume consuming your heart entirely, making you go crazy. You sighed against her kiss, you feel her body going closer to you as she finally settled on your lap.
She pulled away, your eyes still closed as she laughs.
"I'd do anything and everything for you, y/n. Just, please, love me again." You opened your eyes to see the only girl you've loved in your entire life say something out of a romantic film.
You chuckle at her words, "I never fell out of it, Jenna. I always loved you."
"Does... does this mean we're, like, girlfriends?" You asked, a serious question by the way, as if kissing two times never really did the trick on you.
Jenna laughed, she laughed. The symphony to your ears came back, though you can finally listen to it forever.
"Oh my God, you really are such a dork."
"Seriously! I'm asking nicely!"
"Yes! Yes we are. You're my girlfriend now."
"And you're my girlfriend. Oh my god, I'm dating Jenna fucking Ortega everyone!" You shouted to the rooftops, couldn't really give a damn if you just woke the whole neighborhood up while Jenna just laughed with you.
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"You never told me why you had to move out." You questioned. The both of you were on your bed, Jenna being beside you and you were beside Jenna. You turned to your side, while Jenna turned to hers.
She looked at you up and down before saying her explanation. "Because I loved you. Too."—She added.
You immediately sat up, "What? What do you mean?"
Jenna stayed in bed, turning on her back. "It's stupid, so stupid. My mom's friends with different directors, right?"
"So she told me I needed to go across the country because she recommended me to one of the directors there and you know me, I wasn't that skilled at acting so I needed training."
"I reluctantly accepted the offer because... because I knew you liked the Scream Franchise. I thought maybe if I had accepted this job offer, you'd watch the full thing and you'd like me back in some way.
"But I didn't think it'd tear us apart. I was jammed-packed with schedules, I'm sorry, y/n. I tried calling and texting you after the film but I heard you changed your number and refused to give my parents your new one."
"When I heard you were an upcoming director, I knew I had to get on one of your movies, but my manager refrained from me taking several movies at once, you know, for my mental health. But when I finally got the chance to get on set with you, I was estatic." She explained her whole story, and you on the hand, felt guilty of ever ignoring her the past few months of filming .
"I didn't know. I'm so sorry I didn't let you speak when we met. I should've waited for your response, I never knew you... liked me back." You reached out for her hand, your thumb grazing over her palm
"I'm a great actor, y/n. I thought you knew that by now." She laughed, and then you laughed with her while going back down to bed.
"Will you go move in soon?" You asked, "well, not move in, but move back in this neighborhood."
"Maybe, someday."
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a/n: we're probablyyy nearing the end of this story. i just wanna thank you guys in advance for all the lovely comments! they make my day so much better and i always look forward to writing more chapters because of it. thank you all so much, i appreciate all of you!
taglist/s: @belatrixdragon , @mirage018 , @starstrzck
327 notes · View notes
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“Back to you” - Luke x Izzie au
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First Part (is it over now)
Summary: Luke grovels after fucking up.
Notes: this isn’t proofread I’m sorry😭
——————————
It's quiet, eerily almost. The only sounds in the apartment are the heavy breaths coming out of Luke and the noise of his heartbeat, the organ seemingly about to burst out of his chest. He hasn't moved and maybe it's been hours or just a few seconds, but he hasn't once moved, feet rooted to the spot and eyes trained on the door Izzie had slammed behind her. Maybe if he stares hard enough, she'll come back through it.
Or maybe he just fucked up the best thing in his life for good.
That thought seems to do the trick, willing him out of his frozen state and into motion, soon finding himself behind the wheel of his BMW. By muscle memory, he's easily driving through Jersey City, Izzie's apartment his end destination. He needs to fix this, and he needs to do it now before he's lost her for good. 
If Luke went back through his memories and all the shit he's done, nothing even comes close to beating this as his biggest regret. He wishes he could take back all those stupid words he said, wishes he would have just sat down and eaten her lovely meal, told her thank you and that he appreciates it- that he appreciates her.
Instead, he's standing in front of her door, wondering if he should have bought her flowers. But then he remembers that Izzie once told him that her high school ex-boyfriend used to do that when he needed to apologize for something, though, and that that had led her to resent when he would otherwise get her flowers. Luke is pretty happy he didn't stop by a flower shop.
"She doesn't want to see you. Go home."
Suddenly, Sophie is standing before him, the door opened a few inches and the chain still on. A pretty clear message she isn't planning on letting him in. Still, he tries his luck.
"I didn't even knock yet," It comes out slightly more whiny than he hopes for, but something is telling him he's running on limited time and the thought of going home without Izzie, or at least without them being okay, hurts more than a thousand pucks to a padless body.
"I can hear your heavy mouth breathing, Lucas." Her arms are crossed tightly in front of her body, a small scowl on her face and what appears to be disgust in her eyes as she's looking at him. Luke is so thankful Izzie has a best friend who cares so much about her and who he knows would go to the ends of the earth to protect her. Right now, though, it's really working against him.
"Just let me talk to her," he pleads, silently rehearsing the apology speech he came up with in the car. Maybe if he could reason with Sophie, and get her to see how sorry he is, she would assist in winning Izzie back, no, not back. They aren't broken up, Luke refuses to let that be a reality.
"No."
"Please just-"
"Forget it."
"Soph-"
"It's Sophia to you."
"Five minutes, please. Izzie!" Luke tries another tactic, knowing Izzie will be somewhere close to the door, albeit out of sight. Rising to his tiptoes and once more yelling her name into their apartment, he gets spurred on when he sees a flash of a brown curl through the hinges of the door. Shit, she's right there, just a piece of wood between the urge to bursts through it hits him like a truck. If he could just see her.
Settling for his words, this time better ones, he prays she'll listen.
"Izzie, I am so, so sorry. I love you. I don't ever want to be without you, I just, please, can we talk, please?" A beat passes, and Sophie's eyes flicker to the side before her face softens and her brow arches almost in a question. Luke thinks it might be a good sign, but then she looks back at him, her face once more turning cold, and slams the door with the parting words;
"No. Goodbye, don't be late to practice tomorrow!"
Day 1
Luke needs to grovel. Hard. Long. More than anyone in the history of grovels has ever grovelled before.
That's at least the exact words Vivian told him when he barged in on her and Jack's date night, driving straight to her place after not seeing Izzie. Jack had mumbled and grumbled about him interrupting them, but Luke had simply reminded him how he (and Izzie) had helped him win Vivian back for good. Soon, a plan had been devised and as Luke walks in to morning skate the following day, he's pretty sure he's got this in the bag.
Until he rounds the corner of the corridor leading to the locker rooms and sees Izzie standing outside the door, flirting with Mike, one of the equipment managers. She's wearing her favourite shoes (that Luke got her for her birthday), his Devils' fleece jacket and a big smile is plastered on her face.
Okay, so technically, he knows she isn't flirting and if he would stop to think for one second, he would also remember that Mike is married. And forty. And married. To a man.
Luke is so caught up in what to say to her, that he doesn't even realise he's walking a little too close to the wall until his swinging arm hits a bunch of sticks, all lined up for practice. They make a loud ruckus as they tumble to the ground, bringing Izzie and Mike's attention to him in an instant. So, not exactly the way he wants to get her attention, but it works and he's lucky she's even looking at him.
"Iz-" is all he manages to get out, though, before the love of his life is gone in a blur of curls.
Day 3
Luke is falling apart at the seams. Izzie has been avoiding him for the past 48 hours, even going as far as to have someone else work the game last night. In her entire career, she's never done that, and Luke feels even more horrible knowing she gave up a night of doing something she loves just because of him.
She hasn't answered a single of his calls or texts and when he sent her money on Venmo, it was promptly returned, with no note. No nothing. And Luke hates it. He hates not being able to fall asleep because she isn't beside him, hates not waking up with her, hates not getting to kiss her or hug her or listen to her talk about her day. Most of all he misses her voice. At this point, he would willingly star in a TikTok if it meant he got to be close to her again.
"I wish she would just look at me," Luke mumbles as he and Jack slowly make their way forward in the drive-through line at Izzie's Starbucks. Jack looks away from the car in front and gives him an unimpressed glance.
"You told her it was a mistake asking her to be your girl. Even I'm having a hard time looking at you," his big brother tells him, echoing the words Vivian told him when she and Jack were scolding him the other day. Luke just scoffs. He knows Jack is right but he's trying his best to fix it. If Izzie would just let herself be trapped in an elevator or something with him this would be much easier. He could press the emergency button, just like in the movies, and he could spill his heart and apologise.
"I know what I said, it's-" Mid-sentence something in the side mirror catches his attention and has him do a full 180 to look out the back window.
"That's Izzie's car. She's getting her pre-game coffee," Luke mumbles, bringing Jack's attention to him just as he's pulling up to the pay window. Drumming his fingers on his thigh, an idea forms in Luke's head. "Can we pay for the car behind us?" He asks the girl in the shop, leaning over Jack to point out the window. The girl smiles and nods her head enthusiastically, obviously thinking Luke wants to start a pay-it-forward chain. "And can you write 'I love you, I'm sorry' on it?"
Luke is pretty pleased with himself when she agrees to that too, even though he knows it won't magically fix anything. His smugness only lasts until he gets to his stall and sees her half-finished drink sitting in it. There's a red lipstick stain on the mouthpiece, and his heart hurts at the reminder of how it looked on his skin. Pathetically, he can't help but grin at the way she couldn't help herself to at least some of the coffee, though.
Day 5
Maybe the delete text option should exist on iPhones, Luke thinks as he reads the long paragraph again. The words almost seem to taunt him, little white letters on a blue background, the colour's association with sadness never more prevalent. Perhaps it doesn't matter if she answers it or not. Perhaps if Izzie just reads it he will have accomplished something.
Or maybe he'll go insane.
That has to happen later, though, he should probably put his phone away and listen to Tom Fitzgerald's little interruption of their morning skate. The older man is standing in the middle of the locker room, going on and on about something Luke loses track of pretty quickly. Especially when he realises Izzie stands in the corner of the room, doing everything she can to avoid his gaze. She looks especially gorgeous and Luke is briefly reminded of the saying distance makes the heart grow fonder because fuck he's so in love with her it hurts to breathe.
Testing his luck, he coughs a little too loud, drawing the attention of a few of his teammates. To his surprise, Izzie's eyes snap to him, a look of concern briefly flashing across her face before she realises he's fine. He smiles at her, mouths I love you. She rolls her eyes and looks away again. It feels like a win when he can see her fighting not to smile.
Way too soon (Luke hasn't quite finished figuring out how to approach her), Fitzgerald announces he's done talking, leaving the team to put on the rest of their gear and head out to practice. When Luke sees Izzie heading for the door, panic fills his chest and before he can think, he's on his feet, calling her name.
Izzie stops in her tracks and honestly, the fact she's not speeding up to get away fills him with a newfound confidence. Slowly, just as he reaches her and stops a foot or two in front of her, Izzie turns towards him, levelling him with an unimpressed look.
"Luke," she whispers, eyes nervously flicking behind him to assess how many of his teammates are watching them like were they a bad soap opera. No doubt everyone left in the locker room.
"Just listen, please?" Luke doesn't give a shit if they're watching, doesn't give a shit if this is live-streamed on all official NHL channels. All he cares about is getting her back. He takes a tiny nod as a green light, has to remind himself not to take her hand even though he desperately wants to, and then launches into the most uncoordinated apology of his life.
"I'm sorry. You didn't deserve any of the shit I said. It's not an excuse, maybe it is and it's a bad one, but I was stressed and everything was building up inside me and I took it out on you. That wasn't fair to you or to us. I don't for a second regret asking you to be my girlfriend, in fact, it's the best thing I've ever done. These past days have been hell on earth and if I could build a time machine and take all those words back I would." Luke pauses to catch his breath and decides to ignore the few whispers of his teammates in the background. Izzie doesn't say anything, just looks at him and he tries to figure out if that's enough permission to carry on. He chances to take her hand, and she allows him.
"But I can't, and I understand if you're too upset with me or if you need time, but I cannot imagine my life without you in it and I'm prepared to grovel for the rest of mine. I would even get on my knees and beg you if I thought that might give me any shot of having you back in my arms."
Not sure if he should go on or allow her to speak, he pauses for a moment more. He tries to gauge her reaction, but nothing shows except for a hint of contemplation. And then, just small enough to miss it had he not been staring intently into her pretty eyes, a small glint flickers.
Really, Izzie forgave him the second he finished his first sentence, their 'break up' had been just as hard on her. She misses her boy and through the updates she's secretly gotten from Jack and Vivian, she knows his words aren't just empty apologies. Still, she can’t help but punish him just a bit for the way he hurt her. 
“So do it." She says, arching a perfectly trimmed brow in challenge. Luke pauses, face scrunching up in confusion. Behind him, a few of his teammates snicker and it makes him feel like he's being left out of some joke.
“Do what?” He squeezes her hand three times, needing to say the words once more, even if silent.
"Get on your knees," Izzie smirks at him, and truly, he should have known his girl would make him. Jack, or Nico, or maybe it's all of them hollers at her request, showing their true colours and letting him know they were never on his side. He figured as much, so he isn't too offended. Luke Hughes likes to think he's a man of his word, though, so slowly he sinks to both knees, powering through the uncomfortable way his pads are digging into his body in all sorts of weird places.
Looking up at her, truly not by that much, his head reaches just above her stomach, he can tell she's enjoying the show of power. He doesn't care. He loves her, if this is what she needs he'll be on his knees forever.
"Izzie. I am so truly sorry for the way I hurt you. I promised I would never, ever, do that and I broke that promise. I will spend the rest of our lives making it up to you if you'll let me. I love you. Please be my girlfriend again." Resting both hands on her waist, he rubs his thumbs back and forth in comfort, not missing the ways tears are lining her eyes.
"I never stopped you idiot," she mumbles as a tear slides down her cheek, immediately having him on both feet again, scooping her into his arms. "I love you," he says just as she presses a kiss to his lips. Izzie repeats the sentiment back to him through another kiss, squeezing him close and finally piercing both their hearts together again.
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buccini555 · 9 months
Text
𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 - 𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬
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★ . . They end up forgetting your birthday and because of the stress of gang issues and ending being rude to you.
★ . . 𝑭𝒕. Kakucho Hitto, Izana Kurokawa, Manjiro Sano, Sanzu Haruchiyo and Kokonoi Hajime
★ . . x r e a d e r!
★ . . 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭.𝟏 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭.𝟐 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭.𝟑
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𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨
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Kakucho really cared about spending important dates with you, no matter how busy he was with so many problems he had, he always found a way to see you.
It was your birthday and you didn't expect it to be different, so you just waited for the taller to come, however, time passed slowly and the boy did not appear, you sincerely felt sad and your heart was heavy for having to celebrate your birthday without Kakucho, but on the one hand, you understood that he couldn't always be by his side.
A few hours after you lay down to at least try to sleep, Kakucho arrives home, a bit bruised, but he doesn't seem to even care about his injuries.
— There's still time to celebrate your birthday, don't you think?
The taller one kindly opened the door of your room and placed the flowers he bought you on top of the small table that existed next to your bed, although you were extremely happy for the boy's arrival, you cannot hide how disappointed you were for that he didn't spend the day with you as he had promised earlier, Kakucho quickly noticed the tears in your eyes and felt guilty for being so busy with gang business on your exact birthday.
— I don't want to see tears in those beautiful little eyes you have, understand? Even more so because of me... I'm sorry I didn't show up, but I'm here now, is it better this way?
He hugged you, trying to comfort you and finally managing to put a smile on your face.
— Happy birthday, my baby! I would never forget you...
Later after you ended up tending to the boy's wounds, he took you out for your favorite desserts.
𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚
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Izana is not the type of boy who shows feelings so easily, however, he took seriously the idea of spending commemorative dates with you, even more so because he always went through them alone, for that reason, he was really worried to keep you company.
That day, you were waiting for Izana, but when the boy got home, his mood wasn't as good as it should have been.
— I know I'm going to be an asshole, but I'm really not feeling the slightest desire to celebrate anything.
You just stayed silent and quickly the smile that was plastered on your face disappeared.
You had already gotten used to Izana's constant mood swings, but honestly you didn't expect him to treat you badly on your birthday.
A few minutes later, Izana came downstairs again and in total silence, hugged you.
— I'm sorry... I, damn, I didn't want to take my anger out on you, let's celebrate your birthday, do you really think I would let that date go unnoticed?
Izana sincerely showed that he regretted treating you because of the stress he was feeling at the moment, but, after calming down, he took you to celebrate your birthday together.
𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨
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Manjiro no longer cares about commemorative dates for a long time, finding it a waste of time to celebrate something, but, to at least try to cheer you up a little, the boy always bought you a present on your birthday.
You were waiting for Manjiro, but he didn't show up, you already expected that maybe the boy wouldn't show up since he was always very busy, but deep down you really expected his presence.
It was already late at night when Manjiro finally arrived, however, as soon as you laid eyes on him, you realized that he was not well, but even so, you went to talk about your birthday, Manjiro just ignored you for a few minutes and the atmosphere was taken by an eerie silence.
— Leave me alone, understand? It's better for you to stay away from me.
The boy walked away from you and soon you started crying, since apparently he had forgotten your birthday and finally, you just went to lie on your bed amidst the tears that kept dripping down your face.
The next day, as soon as you woke up, you found a small gift next to your bed and in it was written a note that said "I'm sorry"
𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨
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As much as Haruchiyo didn't seem to care about commemorative dates, he would always spend them all by your side, even if he was busy or full of problems.
On your birthday, Sanzu always bought you gifts and indirectly spent the whole day trying to please you, so that same day you waited for the boy to grace you with his presence, when slowly the day was turning into night, Sanzu still hadn't arrived , you found the boy's absence strange, until you realized that he had forgotten your birthday, you were sincerely disappointed and just went to sleep to try to forget the disaster that your day had become due to the disappointment with the lack of Haruchiyo at that moment that you considered important.
The next morning, Sanzu woke you up with a small kiss, slowly you woke up and you couldn't hide your look of disappointment.
— I... I'm sorry about yesterday.
Haruchiyo rarely apologized, for that reason you realized how sorry he was, finally, the tallest one gave you some gifts and spent the rest of the week being affectionate like never before.
𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞
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Kokonoi is almost always busy and entertained in his work, spending hours worrying about gang issues and money, he rarely actually manages to spend some time away from the obligations he had, but Hajime always made an exception when it came to you.
It was your birthday, so, as usual, you waited for Kokonoi to finish his work to celebrate your day together, in addition, he always appeared with several gifts in the intention of pleasing you, but, for some reason, the boy seemed busier than usual, however, even so you were indirectly questioning him that the menso was not forgetting "something".
— Let me work in peace! Can't you see I'm busy, Y/n? Do you really want to bother me with nonsense?
You just stayed silent while he went back to entertaining himself with what he was doing earlier, before you ended up "disturbing" him, a few minutes after being harsh with you, the taller one stopped what he was doing and went to look for you in the room , you were silently crying softly afraid of ending up distracting Kokonoi again, the boy sat beside you and hugged you.
— Your birthday... I'm sorry for treating you like that...
He looked at you, seeing you with tears in your eyes and felt disappointed in himself.
— I promise I'll make you cheer up again, hmm? How about we go buy something? By the way, happy birthday!
You were encouraged by him remembering your birthday and making the decision to celebrate by his side despite still being busy with other matters.
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n30nwrites · 1 month
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Heel (Shifter TF141 x Male! Reader)
Chapter 3 of Good Doggy.
Masterlist here
Warnings - Just some sadness. Some thought of death but nothing too in detail. Some talks of sex and mention of Mating??? But nothing too explicit. Reader is kind of a dick but I understand it, you won't for a bit though. Also Price thinks about some dark things like kidnapping/murder, along with some thoughts on noncon biting, Lowkey the boys get kind of yandere in a way but nothing too dark I think. Ghost thinks about killing you. Also internalized homophobia but enough to not even notice, Thoughts of dubious consent.
Updated: 3/5/2024
Beta Reader/Editor: The one and only @letmelickyoureyeballs
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Gaz takes his first step towards hope and he now understands everything.
He understands why Soap wouldn't shut up yesterday about you. He understands why Price held that meeting. He understands why Ghost keeps staring. He understands why he had to wait.
All good things come to those who wait. And he was patient. Some god out there must have seen that and granted him you. Because even though your eyes are covered he knows that you are it for him. It hasn't been officially confirmed, but there was no way you weren't it.
He doesn't think he can handle you not being his mate.
The car door opens and a woman walks out. And you greet her with a hug and a whisper in her ear about the stares from the neighbors, which she laughs at and kisses your cheek. And Gaz pauses in his movement.
He can hear his pack’s footsteps as they stumble out the door. Their words of protest at his actions quickly came to a stop as they realized that someone had joined you.
You take off your glasses to look at them as you pull away and he can imagine a future with you. He wants to live in this neighborhood, your house or his but he knew his would be big enough for a litter of pups. He wanted to have you stay home, healthy and fat and never in danger. 
Kyle looked at you like there was something worth looking at.
He now knows that he is going to continue loving you, and that he does not see a future when you will eventually pass on as all humans do. You are too gorgeous to be real, exactly what he waited for all this time and he does not regret it all.
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You can't help but question your neighbors. There's four of them, as it turns out. All in black which you would judge if you weren't doing the same. Maya follows your gaze and you know that their attention must be on her.
She's beautiful, and you aren't insecure of yourself in a way, but even you had feelings for her at one point. Her left arm is a metal prosthetic, one that was forged by a family friend. She stands tall and proud and it makes you feel more confident. 
"Can I help you gentlemen?" She understands society's norms. She's polite with a possible killer, she bares her teeth showing a smile that is wide and almost innocent to falsely secure these men in front of her. She was a killer in disguise. Prepared at all times.
"Just greeting the new neighbors." Kyle says and the other three come next to him. They are in your yard, something that makes you uncomfortable.
"You greet differently than your friends." You comment, glancing at Soap and Ghost. "Still seem to have a staring problem." You lower your sunglasses more trying to ignore the harsh light. You make eye contact with each of them and your chest aches at it. "This is my partner-"
"Maya." She interrupts, taking the attention away from you. "You gentlemen mind helping us move our stuff in." And you glare at her, not that you cared for their help, you didn't like people touching your stuff nor did you like strangers being in your space. She was the opposite, she didn’t care if people entered her house. You guessed that now you had to share a living space with her, you’d have to get over it at some point. They step closer to agree.
"Really gonna invite some strangers to help?" You say loudly, knowing that they heard because you didn't care to hide the dislike. 
"I don't wanna carry these boxes darling..." She drags out the word, "Plus you need to rest for work tonight." Your shift lasts from 10 pm to 6 am. "Don't want you to tire yourself out."
She puts on a caring layer. You trust her but you don't like this form of parenting she's trying to do with you. 
"I'm not leaving them with our stuff. Go get the boys set up." You tell her as you head to the back of the trunk and open it. Maya opens the side door, grabbing two animal carriers. You can hear your dog barking, Maya’s cat was probably sleeping. The car smells of sulfur and you twitch your nose, adjusting your face mask. "You can go back to your house." You say to them right as Maya goes inside.
"We said we'd help, might as well." You weren't expecting the accent to come from the stalker with the mohawk. "I'm Soap." Soap, it was a strange nickname. "That's Ghost." He points to the stalker with the mask. 
Soap and Ghost. Your two witnesses to your moving in. The men who just stared.
They look familiar.
"I'm Kyle." He's hot. You're staring at him, fully aware of that. They're all hot. He holds out his hand and you shake it, not immediately repulsing at the touch which was strange. You say your name. "That's Price." He points to John.
"John Price..." You say his name aloud, "And here I thought you were just John." You told him, grabbing a box of books and shoving it into Kyle's arms. "Living room, next to the built-in bookcase by the sun nook."
You kept shoving the boxes into their arms, anxious every time you couldn't see one of them. Out of all four of them, Ghost made you the most uncomfortable. He wouldn't stop staring. And you told him as much when it came to an end.
"Do you stare because you plan to kill me or simply because you have issues?" Maya had insisted you'd walk them to their house despite it being right across from yours. She said it was the polite thing to do, and you told her that it was bullshit but you weren't going to argue against her and waste your energy on it. Ghost was the last to walk onto the porch, still not blinking. "If you are going to kill me, you will fail."
"Why did you move here?" He asks, and they are all staring.
"Learn to blink." You tell him, "You do not need to know why I am here. We are not friends, we are not gonna be friends, Maya is nice to you because she thinks you are attractive and I can see where it is coming from, but this thing you are doing, talking and trying to help out and telling me your nicknames."
You pause as you stare at Kyle's eyes.
"It's useless. I want nothing to do with you."
And Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick breaks inside.
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"You are being too cruel to them," Maya says as you close the door. The house is soundproof, she made sure of it. She knows they can hear the conversation if they wanted to, which is why she had blocked off any possible sound to escape.
"How? They are being a nuisance-"
"They are men who found their mate. I've seen worse reactions when soulmates meet, surprised they haven't hugged you at all." Maya manipulates her fingers in the air as if she’s plucking a string, and she probably is through her eyes. Maya had always had a gift to see the bond between others, The Strings of Fate, a curse Zeus put on everyone eons ago. Theseus escaped the Minotaur with his thread that connected him to Ariadne, and it seemed Clotho had it in for you. It used to be that everyone could see their own String of Fate, until a few centuries ago when an argument broke out amongst the Gods. Now only a certain few could, and Maya was one of them. 
"If they did I would cut their cocks off." You cringe at the idea of touch. "I do not understand why you are defending them-"
"Because you are being an asshole!" Maya shouts and you turn away, rubbing at your nose as you let out a sigh.
"I understand why they are acting the way they are." Kyle's and Soap's puppy dog eyes almost broke you, they were too handsome. "But you understand why I am like this. It is better to tell them upfront is it not?"
"You haven't even given them a chance-"
"I am not leading them on. I am not manipulating them like I could. I do not want anything to do with them and you know that that is for the best." She says your name to stop you, and you're confused by it.
Why can't she admit to herself the truth? It happened to you just a couple of years ago and you were already over it, but yet she couldn't be?
"Maya," You look at her, "I do not have a soul. I can not feel what they feel. It is impossible for me to have soulmates."
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It's confusing. When everything you thought you know changes. How a simple moment becomes so complicated. It's happened to Gaz a few times in his life, where he's had to change everything he's thought and adapt to the new.
You were supposed to be a woman.
He was supposed to be straight.
He never thought about people in a romantic sense. Sex was one thing, it's a way to release emotions and it's something fun. You didn't have to have an emotional tie with someone for it. But dating was separate. You had to let people in for that, to let them know the ugly parts of you and trust that they won't run.
You weren't supposed to run.
Gaz leaves first. He's the first to stop staring at the air, going into his room and immediately undressing. His mind is blank, running on instincts. The minute he’s done, he’s out the backdoor shifting. 
The pain of his bones breaking quickly disappears, but he welcomes it despite how little it was. He grows paws and fur all over his body, and goes back to his basic instincts.
He's gone for hours.
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Price is the last to move. He's angry at you for everything you said, he’s half a mind to go into your house and just kidnap you.
Who were you to tell him what to do? You were a selfish human, completely unaware of everything they were willing to do for you. You had them on a leash, begging for scraps of attention that you were starving them for.
You hated him, and that made John angry. He wants to burn your house down and show you that you can't be safe without him, he wants to kill Maya, she took you from him.
From them.
He can hear the howls from Gaz and he grabs a bottle of Scotch from the cabinet. He chugs it down, it's not that hard to finish a drink, especially when you crave the burn of it. He wants to shift as well, but that would require ignoring his responsibilities. 
He wished he could show you what makes him right for you.
He just needed one night with you and he was sure he could change your mind. One bite and it was all over, you'd be stuck with him.
He lights a cigar and stays in the kitchen, quiet.
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Stupid, foolish human. Weak, you were pathetic truly.
It was one thing to not like him, it was another to hurt his family.
He thinks that killing you would make it all go away. Ghost doesn't care that it would hurt him for eternity if he was to kill you, he's convinced he can do it and make his pack forget about you, whether it's with time or a witch.
He's convinced that he could get away with it. 
And then he remembers your heart beat and he can't. He knows he can't kill you. But he wishes it was that easy.
Instead of planning your demise, Ghost calls every contact he has looking for information about you. Looking for anything, and while he finds out your last name, he comes to realize that you did not exist 6 years ago.
And when he calls Laswell to question you, she insists he stops looking if he wants to stay safe.
He does not listen.
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Soap thinks about every movement you make.
He convinces himself you're playing hard to get. That you like being chased after like a bunny.
His bunny, his defenseless mate who doesn’t know what was good for him.
You were ignorant, it was okay.
He could help you.
"Ah will protect ye mate. Yer mines bun." 
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NEXT
Okay so maybe I wrote a bit longer. And yeah maybe the boys do seem out of character but literally they will not be like this long, it is just the idea that losing half of your soul makes you mad.
This is just chapter 3 and it's heavy with angst ig?? Um next chapter will definitely be lighter, and so will chapter 5. But hey I guess it's your decision to stick around for that long.
Also maya looks like Salma Hayek because that is a beautiful woman.
And I am not sure how to write Soap's dialect?? I'm trying my best I swear.
Also please leave comments and reblog, more interaction means more interest and I'll probably continue to write it.
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