#who knows what the fuck's going on it's not my problem
Text
I've never really talked on here about how I figured out my gender, and since this whole egg discourse is going on, I feel like I should.
I'm not one of the trans women who figured out their genders at age 4 and became fully confident of it. Up until around 16 I didn't even begin to consider that I may not be a cis guy and it took me up until almost 19 to fully realise I was a trans woman. Before this, at 18, after feeling particularly shitty for weeks (from what I later learned was definitely dysphoria), I attempted suicide.
I only really started to understand myself once I started hanging out with other trans people on discord servers. My perception of transness was the more mainstream-accepted version (at that time) of "I always confidently knew I was a woman basically from birth and I exhibited x, y and z feminine behaviours at all times etc." which I didn't fit in with, so I always thought "well I can't be a trans woman because that's not me". Being around other trans people, and especially having other trans women point out behaviours I had, and tell me "that's also how I thought before I realised I was trans" helped me immensely.
I didn't get any of the rigid online definitions and examples, nor did I get the perfectly sanitised videos from the handful of trans people who made it on youtube. None of that felt like me at the time. I didn't have any point of reference. I only really understood myself once I related to someone who used to be in the same position. If some trans girl didn't call me an egg, I might still be a completely miserable "cis" guy to this day still, or even dead.
I understand that others have had worse experiences when it comes to this, but we must recognise that the problem in these situations is outing or harassment. The porblem is abuse, and as with all things interpersonal, you can always turn it into abuse. As with all things interpersonal, you have to have some amount of tact and caution.
I don't think we should harass anyone into getting their egg cracked (and this happens vastly less often than people here seem to think but it does happen), but also we shouldn't be constantly agnostic about if someone is trans or not, because in the end not everyone is capable of coming to that conclusion by themselves, and by the time you've "let them figure it out" they might've spent several more years being miserable and not knowing why or they might be dead.
It is also very important to point out that this discourse is only really happening because there is a particular bias against trans women. This isn't a discussion of how to approach the subject, or a handful of people talking about their experiences with it, it's a discourse where one side is trying to problematize another aspect of the transfem community. Notice that people are arguing this when it comes to transfems and not cis gay people or even transmascs. Notice that this website always cycles back to attacking some aspect of the transfem community every couple of weeks.
Do you really think these arguments are being made in good faith? Do you really think it's worth adding to the sea of transmisogyny that is this website and most of the world?
As always, this post is meant for people who are genuinely well-meaning. The dipshits who keep jumping on any excuse they can to harass trans women can go fuck themselves.
552 notes
·
View notes
Text
Building Each Other Up Pt. 2
Read Pt. 1 here.
Mark's POV
"Fuckkk," I muttered, flexing and feeling up my body and arms. The sensation of Shane being expelled from me, while surprising, actually felt really good—almost like a mental-only orgasm.
Shane, now in my body, was still sitting on the floor, looking up at me with wide, confused eyes. I took a moment to take it all in, before finally looking down at him.
"Shane, you okay?" I asked. “Or should I call you Mark now?” I said with a smile.
He blinked a few times, shaking his head as if to clear it. "What the hell just happened?" he asked, his voice—my voice—definitely a bit angry.
"I don't know, man. This is new for me too. I guess... I guess I pushed you out. Are you alright?" I said.
"No! Dude, what the fuck, why wouldn’t you get out?"
I raised my hands defensively. "I'm sorry, Shane. I didn’t mean to stay that long. I was just having such a good time training, and I wanted to help you out."
His eyes narrowed, frustration evident in his tone. "Well, that fucking sucked to be trapped inside my head for that long.”
"I know, I know," I said, my voice earnest. "I'm really sorry. I got carried away. It won't happen again."
"Okay, do we have any more of the potion on hand? Is that all we need to swap back, you think?" Shane asked, a hint of urgency in his voice.
"Wait, wait, hold on," I said quickly. "You're out now. Why don't we just stay like this for a little bit? I'll keep training in your body, and you can actually enjoy the time off rather than just being locked in your head."
He looked at me, still clearly annoyed but weighing his options. To swap back, he knew he would need to jump into my body and go through that whole process again. And who knows if he’d be able to actually force me out of this sexy body if I didn’t want to leave?
Shane sighed, running a hand through his—my—hair. "Okay," he relented. "But just a few days. And you better not pull any more stunts."
I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Scout's honor. Just a few days, I promise. And I’ll keep pushing hard at the gym to make sure you're in the best shape possible for the competition."
Before he could change his mind, I left the gym and walked out to my car and quickly took a few selfies.
---
The next night, I invited Ali over. It had been over a week since we’d last met up, and I was excited to be able to fuck him without Shane being there—it felt more intimate.
I wasn’t entirely sure how Shane felt about the sex part of the arrangement. Usually, if I even hinted at the idea of hooking up with a guy, he’d retreat into his subconscious and not be a part of it. He didn’t have a problem with me doing it per se. I mean how could he, it was his idea first. But I just think he found the whole thing a bit weird to not be in control of. I kind of got off on that back in the day, but I respect that he doesn’t.
But now, this was going to be the third time I’d hooked up with Ali. Maybe Shane would have a problem with me hooking up with the same guy so consistently—he probably wouldn’t want to give Ali the wrong ideas about this body.
Well, the good thing at least is that I’ve only really been messaging Ali on Grindr so far. I had made a profile using Shane’s pics on my own phone so that I could keep the fun going even when I was out of it. I made sure to have a secret backlog of photos too. All that to say, there’s not a huge risk of Shane finding out.
When the doorbell rang, I opened the door to see Ali standing there, looking hotter than ever in his tank top, beads of sweat still glistening from his workout. I could tell he had come straight from the gym, and the sight of his toned muscles and confident stride sent a jolt of excitement through me.
"Hey," he greeted me with a warm smile as he stepped inside. "You look great."
"Thanks, you too," I replied, my eyes drinking in the sight of his fit, athletic body.
We made our way to the living room, and as we settled in, Ali turned to me with a thoughtful expression. "Hey, I was thinking... how about we go on an actual date tonight instead of jumping straight into the hookup?"
I was taken aback. A date? I couldn’t remember the last time I went on a no-kidding date. Usually, the hot bottoms Ali’s age didn’t give my old body that kind of chance. I was more just a fun older fantasy for them—a quick, no-strings-attached daddy thrill.
"An actual date?" I repeated, a mix of surprise and curiosity in my voice.
I hesitated for a moment, processing the words before saying, "Sure, why not? I’d like that."
We went downtown to a movie theater and watched the latest superhero movie. The place was packed, but we managed to get good seats near the back. About halfway through the movie, during a particularly quiet moment, Ali reached over and gently took my hand in his. I glanced over at him, and he gave me a shy smile. Sure we had already fucked, but something about the innocence of the gesture made my heart race.
Later, as the movie progressed, I decided to make a move of my own. I shifted my hand from his and placed it on his muscular thigh, rubbing it up and down. My large hand practically swallowed his thigh, making it look small in comparison. Ali turned to me and grinned, biting his lip.
When the credits rolled and the lights came up, we both stood and stretched, exchanging amused looks as we mimicked the superhero poses we’d just seen on screen. Damn that tank top left nothing to be desired as he flexed his biceps for me.
As we walked back to his place, we joked the whole way there.
"Damn, you're really funny," I said, nudging him playfully with my elbow.
"Thanks," he replied, his eyes twinkling. "I try."
When we reached his apartment building, I turned to him, feeling a bit reluctant to end the night. "I had a really nice time tonight. I really want to do this again sometime."
"Oh yeah, me too," Ali said with a grin. He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "But we aren't done yet." He opened the door and gestured for me to follow him up to his apartment.
I felt a thrill of excitement as I followed him inside. His apartment was cozy and stylish, and filled with cool travel memorabilia.
"So, what now?" I asked, leaning in closer.
Ali smiled, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, we could start by picking up where we left off in the theater."
I didn’t need any more encouragement. I leaned in and kissed him, savoring the taste of his lips and the warmth of his body pressed against mine.
We have a seat on the couch, and Ali wastes no time straddling me. I grab both sides of his waist, guiding him as he grinds on me through our clothes. The friction is intoxicating, and I can feel my dick getting hard, pressing insistently against my jeans.
Ali's hands are all over my pecs, exploring the firm muscles beneath my shirt. "Take it off," he whispers, lifting the fabric and tossing it aside. "Flex for me."
I oblige quickly, flexing my chest muscles, watching his eyes light up with desire. He leans in, moving to the side to lick my hairy pits. He moans, "God, you smell so good."
I grab the back of his head, holding him there with a firm but reassuring grip. The sensation of his tongue against my skin is electric, sending shivers down my spine. Eventually, he lifts his head, his eyes glazed with lust. He stands up, strips down in front of me, and straddles my waist again. This time, he’s naked, and he starts rubbing his hard cock between my pecs.
The feel of his smooth skin and the sight of his cock sliding between my pecs almost makes me lose control right then and there. I’m already on the edge, and I haven’t even entered him yet.
Ali takes off my pants, his fingers grazing my thighs as he pulls them down. He positions himself over my cock, looking down at me with a mix of anticipation and desire.
"You ready, cutie?" I ask, my voice low and husky.
"Yes, sir," he replies, his voice trembling with excitement.
"Good boy," I tell him as he slowly starts to sit, taking in all of my manhood. The tightness and heat around my cock are almost too much to bear. He moves at his own pace, adjusting to my size, and I can see the concentration and pleasure on his face.
He finally settles down completely, and we both let out a groan of satisfaction. I grip his hips firmly, guiding his movements as he starts to ride me. The rhythm builds slowly at first, then faster, more urgent.
"Fuck, you feel so good," I murmur, my hands roaming over his body, caressing his skin.
Ali's hands are braced on my chest, his fingers digging into my muscles as he rides me. "You too, sir," he gasps, his head thrown back in pleasure. "Soooooo fucking good."
I thrust up into him, meeting his movements with powerful strokes. The intensity of the connection between us is overwhelming, and I know I won’t last much longer.
"Come for me," I urge him, my voice rough with need. "Come on, boy."
With a cry, Ali's body tenses, and he spills his load over my chest. The sight and feel of him coming is enough to push me over the edge, and I climax inside him, filling him with everything I’ve got.
We collapse together on the couch, breathing hard and spent. Ali rests his head on my chest, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.
"That was amazing," he says after a moment, his voice soft and content.
"Yeah, it was," I agree, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "You were incredible."
He looks up at me with a smile. "So, when can we do this again?"
"Anytime you want," I reply, feeling a rush of happiness. "Anytime you want."
To be continued…
208 notes
·
View notes
Text
Winner
Pairing: Coach!Tashi x fem!Reader x Coach!Art
Warnings: 18+, smut, too filled with shame to proofread, dom!tashi, sub!art, sub!reader, mentions of spanking, tashi is so mean in this, art is basically a prop with minimal lines, idk
*******
Training with Tashi Duncan and her husband was an honor. You knew that. You did your very best to remember that; which was hard to do when she had days like this.
“Are you scared of the fucking ball?” You shake your head, but you know better than that at this point.
“Speak up!” You flinch before you can stop yourself.
“No, I'm not scared of the ball.” You say.
“I would hope not- considering how long you’ve been doing this. That’d surely be a disappointment to your little fan club that you love so much. “ Tashi watched the way your eyebrows tinge only for a moment, at the mention of the onlookers who follow your career closely.
It was no secret that you had a great appreciation for the love that they’d shown you, but it was almost like you were completely unaware of how quickly it would be gone if you weren’t up to par at all times.
From afar Art watched the scene play out. You were the player that Tashi was the hardest on. He was sure it was to do with the fact that you were just like her. Well except for the fact that you lacked confidence in your abilities. Another reason she was hard on you. She wouldn’t see your potential wasted. But you worked hard like her, tennis was the love of your life like her.
He watched as Tashi served to you, intense and laser focused. Then you, playing back with the same intensity and just as passionate. It’s almost magical to watch until you hesitate and miss the ball.
Tashi’s on your ass before the ball can even hit the ground. “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you in it?”
You stammer a reply that Art can’t hear. Probably an apology. His feet are moving closer before he can even think of a reason why.
“No, tell me. What’s got you so off your game lately? Because you’re not going to fucking embarrass me at your next matches because you can’t get your head out your ass.”
“Tash lighten up.” He’s ignored which is to be expected. She stares at you intensely awaiting your answer.
“How am I supposed to lighten up when she’s playing like she never held a racket before, huh?” Again she sees the twitch in your eyebrows. Good, you’re angry.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know-” Tashi holds up her hand. She doesn’t want your apology.
“You know what- if you don’t want to tell me what the problem is,” She grabs your phone which has been continuously lighting up since you started. “I’m sure this will.’
You draw in a breath of air in surprise but you make no move to stop her. Your eyes wide at the invasion, but still ever so respectful even when your privacy is being violated.
Almost immediately her eyebrows sprout up. “I thought we agreed on no boyfriends for this reason?” she shakes her head continuing to scroll through your phone as if it were hers. Art draws closer to her in interest, now intrigued about your phone as well,
“He’s not my boyfriend.” You’re embarrassed, your grip on your racket tightening as you get angry at the way she’s shaming you.
“Obviously.” She mutters. She pauses a moment, both her and Art sharing a look and you know they’ve gotten to the most mortifying part.
“Well if something would shake someone’s confidence it would be that.” You cringe, finally going to take your phone back only to be pushed back by Tashi.
“What did we talk about when it came to how you let people talk to you off the court and how it affects your game on the court?” You barely refrain from rolling your eyes.
“I can’t control what other people say” You can’t stop the edge in your voice.
“But you can control what you say. You didn’t even try to stand up for yourself. This-” She shoves the phone at you with a picture of you half naked with the word unfuckable, in the center of the screen. “Is pathetic. “ You look away when she starts scrolling more like you don’t already know the rest of the verbal assault that had been issued towards you, and then a video of your so-called boyfriend with your next opponent and the lewd graphics that came with it.
“What the fuck am I supposed to say to that?” You don’t mean for your response to be so angry. Or for the hot tears that started burning your eyes to fall. But the frustrations of your day had started to take a toll on you. So when you finally snatch your phone back from Tashi and get ready to storm off you miss the pleased look on her face. Art doesn’t though, he almost shakes his head knowing it was her intention to rile you up in the first place.
She raises an eyebrow at him, and just as she expects him to, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. The perfect good cop. “It’s okay, kid.” You’re tense in his arms, it reminds him of the times he’s tried to comfort Tashi and she wouldn’t allow it, but after a few moments of him rubbing your back you finally relax. .
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” You start, but Tashi interrupts.
“Apologize for standing up for yourself and I’ll make you run until you pass out.” You wipe your eyes roughly and nod. Stepping away from Art’s hug and trying your best to put your game face back on.
“You got that out of your system now?” You nod again, but after a pointed gaze you speak.
“Yes.”
“Good now let’s talk about how you respond to this kind of bad sportsmanship.”
******
The outfit Tashi has you in, is just barely appropriate, You look focused, despite the whistles you’ve received on your way in. You look a little angry actually.
Art glances at Tashi beside him, who looks all too pleased. “What’d you do?”
“I didn’t have to do anything.” She’s almost bragging. He follows her line of sight to Tashi’s opponent and sees her and your not boyfriend smirking at you.
He wants to ask Tashi if she thinks this will shake your confidence more, but then he looks back at you laser focused as you stretch and he decides not to question it.
The match starts off intense with your serve. Your opponent looks surprised and even though she quickly recovers. Art can tell that this will be a win for you even though he knows Tashi despises that kind of over confident thinking.
As the match continues Tashi is gripping her seat for support. So enthralled in the game and invested in the fearlessness you’re displaying she can barely contain herself.
At one point during a break you’re caught trash talking your opponent. Tashi is sure to get you for it later. Even though the only thing she hears clearly is “enjoy my sloppy seconds” with a saccharine smile on your face. The deduction you receive is definitely worth it.
When you win as expected. Tashi is nearly buzzing and Art can’t hold back his excitement either.
****
“See this is what happens when you’re a winner.” Tashi tells you. She quite literally holding Art’s balls as he fucks into you.
“Winners are fuckable, tell her Art.” He gasps, feeling her squeeze him.
“Fuck-” He breathes. “Did so good.” You spasm around him at the praise, pulling a loud groan from him. “Knew you were gonna win, kid.”
Your whines and whimpers are muffled by Tashi’s hand. “Fuck her faster, she’s gonna come.” Art obeys immediately despite the fact that he is much too close himself. Your eyes roll back at the change of pace.
“There you go.” She squeezes Art’s balls once you start cumming so that he can too. He tries to pull himself out of you before but he can’t and leaves a sticky mess all over your cunt. “Fuck”
Tashi mounts you before you can stop twitching, lining her pussy up with yours, holding your leg over her shoulder. “Now next time I tell you to do something,, you’ll listen to me.” She starts slowly, spreading the mixture of both you and Art’s orgasm on both of you.
“Isn’t that right?” You nodding makes her speed up, giving you that look of disapproval.
“Use your words.”
“Yes, yes, yes I’ll listen to you.”
“Yeah I know you will, because now you know what good girls get.” She continues to grind against you skilfully.
“And next time you don’t listen to me-” You feel your core tense up again. “I will spank you until you cry.” Just like that you’re gone again. The masochistic side of you envisioning the picture that will haunt your fantasies until you get it.
You don’t realize the loud moan you hear is you, until Art is kissing you sloppily to silence your cries. ‘You like that don’t you?” You hear Tashi say. You want to tell her yes but you can’t with Art’s tongue down your throat. You think she knows the answer anyway.
The contrast between the way that Tashi is fucking you so vigorously and the slow kisses Art is giving you puts your head in a spin. On top of that your overstimulated clit is making it hard for you to think at all.
“Coach please-” You beg. “My pussy can’t;” You’re cut off immediately.
“Who knows what's best for you? Me or you?”
“You!” By this time tears are flowing down your face, as you feel another orgasm building all too quickly. Art wipes them, then moves his hands down to pinch your nipples.
“Exactly. Now cum.”
#challengers#tashi duncan#tashi donaldson#art donaldson#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x reader#tashi x art#tashi x reader#tashi x art x reader#tashi duncan smut#fantasylandloserfic
188 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pride Petty Watch
Long story short, I owe the BL gods, so I'll be watching TWO series from my Petty List during the month of June. This list includes shows I haven't watched for purely petty reasons, so I'm asking the crowd to pick the two shows I will watch from all the MAME series, some censored Chinese bromances, a few sexual tension-filled Korean bromances, and one wild card.
I'm making my first ever poll, so whichever two series get the highest numbers will be the two I watch. And for all the kind people in the crowd, this is not the time to think about me. Pick your favorite. And for all the people who I annoy on the daily with my wild ass takes that piss you off, pick TharnType. But there is a possibility of a secret thirteenth option that would hurt me much worse . . .
The petty ass reasons are below the poll.
Disclaimer: If you're going to read the petty ass reasons, I need you to understand these are PETTY ASS REASONS, so don't try to hit me with 2,000 words about why me not watching censored bromances is a problem or why me not liking your fave hurts your feelings. Nah. Pick a show!
MAME
Love By Chance
This show came out at the end of 2018, and I watched the first episode, maybe first two, and thought it was boring. Then, in 2019, I saw a GIF of the locker scene, so I recommitted. I made it past the first episode just when the PerthSaint drama started spilling out everywhere, so I chucked the deuces and haven't returned since.
TharnType
For some reason, I couldn't find the first episode when it aired. Then, I found out how the first episode ended. Then, I found out about Type's past. Then, I just kept finding out more awful stuff until eventually the MewGulf shit finally hit the fan, and I was still reeling from the PerthSaint drama (and the emerging ZeeSaint chaos). At this point, I've built this show up so much that I'm afraid to see what it is actually about.
Don't Say No
A story of another GIF of a locker room scene sucking me in! After the first two MAME pairs blew up, I believed her shows were cursed, so I opted out of watching this one even though I thought it would be the one to vibe with me the most. But the biggest reason was because the main characters came from TharnType, so I felt like I would have to watch TharnType to understand this show, which was a big hell nah.
Love in the Air
I watched this through mutuals on my dash, so I feel like I did watch it. It is also the highest rated MAME series, so I had faith in it. However, when I found out about Sky's past, TharnType's ghost popped back up, and I realized this demon of a show is gonna haunt me in every MAME series.
The Wedding Plan
Y'all hated one of the leads so much while it was airing that I now hate him, and I don't think I can let that go, so I'm coming in with pre-hate and TharnType's ghost, but on top of that, some of y'all said it was boring. But what is boring in a MAME series? Consent? Not kidnapping someone? I never got answers, so I'm very conflicted about this show.
Censored Chinese
The Untamed
It's color coded, but FIFTY FUCKING EPISODES! What is this shit? Grey's Anatomy? The fuck! Second, once China pulled Addicted, I was holding grudges for life because it crossed from entertainment censorship into real-world oppression, so I could not bring myself to support media from a country that openly discriminates against the queers when I live in America where our highest court is just one Supreme Court Justice away from making us all live in the damn Mojo Dojo Casa House.
Word of Honor
It's color coded, but THIRTY-SIX FUCKING EPISODES! What is this shit? Supernatural?! The fuck! Second, I don't know the difference between this and The Untamed. Both are color-coded, one of them has a lot of uncles (?), one of them has awful facial hair, and they all have pretty outfits. Every time someone makes a reference about these shows, I just nod the same way I do when people mention Star Wars because none of it makes sense.
Guardian
I spent two years believing Killer and Healer was Guardian. I haven't watched either, but I thought they were the same show. Honestly, if this show wins, I might just watch Killer and Healer because I will forget they are not the same show. Don't they both solve cases? And because it's China, past lives must be involved, no? I'm looking at their MDLs as I write this, and I'm still not convinced they are different.
Stay with Me
It's color coded, but I know how it ends, and word on the street is that IS the ending since a second season seems unlikely. China couldn't just let me be hurt over Addicted, the original. No. Gotta hurt me again with Addicted, the remake. Rude af.
The Spirealm
First off, SEVENTY-EIGHT FUCKING EPISODES! What is this shit? Law & Order: SVU?! The fuck! I know how this ends, and it ain't happy! I don't care how people are trying to spin it, so to sit through SEVENTY-EIGHT DAMN EPISODES just for that ending already has me irate. And don't try telling me Viki combined episodes so it's only thirty-four. That's still a lot. However, everybody who has watched it says it's phenomenal, so is the pain worth it or are these people all lying so they convince themselves it was worth it?
Korean Bromance
Beyond Evil
With most Korean dramas, I feel like I missing something important. Like some part of the story does not click with me and I stay lost for the rest of the show. I suck it up for the queers, but the not-queers-but-it-is-queer shows . . . nah, and especially one about cops . . . (-_-). Also, The Worst of Evil just showed, and it was another reminder that I need these cops to quit their jobs and just screw each other. Embrace "Be Gay. Do Crime"
The Devil Judge
I know enough about Kpop to know GOT7 would not let one of its members kiss a man in this show. I looked at those GIFs of Jeff Satur and Jackson Wang on their show knowing damn well that if Wang got too close to Satur, an entire management team would have ascended from hell and kidnapped both of them, so the promo for this show was so wild because it felt queerbait-adjacent, and I was salty about it.
WILD CARD!
This option will be automatically unlocked IF this stupid little poll gets 216 votes, so I have high hopes this will not happen since I ain't that popular and I hate this wild card which is . . .
SOTUS
This show is my original TharnType. It came out in 2016. I watched it live. I watched the sequel. I remember neither. New was in it? Off was in it?! WHAT?! I have no memory of this show except Krist wiping his mouth, and I have carried that with me for eight damn years. I loved Be My Favorite, so I thought I moved past whatever strange grudge I was holding against this man who doesn't know I exist nor care, but then I saw that trailer for The Ex-Morning, and unlike Elsa, I can't let this shit go, so I'm willing to play Jumanji and go back into the jungle to finish this once and all.
So what it's gonna be, mi gente. Which demons am I facing for Pride and what shows do I get to stay petty about? Help me decide!
#Pride Petty Watch#it's time#help me decide which shows I'm watching#may the best demon win!#a promise is a promise#my blessings came quick#so I will not upset the BL Gods#I must pay them what I owe them#it is time
144 notes
·
View notes
Text
Attempting to read any doctor who wikipedia page for context is so fun because (and I say this with genuine love in my heart) I love when a series has decades of absolutely inscrutable retcon-ridden self-contradictory lore. I get to sail through an ocean of silly words, delivered with the utmost solemnity. I get to go "oh no!!! they unleashed the Skaro Degradations, the Horde of Travesties, the Nightmare Child, AND the Could-Have-Been King with his army of Meanwhiles and Never-Weres!!! I hate when that happens!" I get to hear the 20 different tie-in novelization explanations for where his granddaughter came from, because no one in the 70s wanted to face the idea that this twinkly eyed old british man fucked. And then I walk away even more confused than I was going in, simply forced to trust that, surely--if this is supposed to be an entry point season--then whatever quick handwavy "I was space-adopted" lore they give is all the info I really need (though I know and embrace that this isn't true, and the tie-in novelization that's been out of print since 1976 Will be relevant at some point)
And what's interesting, is that I think this season is actually kind of about that? As one of several things it's doing with its whole meta-storytelling conceit? The horrors and pleasures and comedy and grief of existing in a constantly changing and self-contradictory reality. Not sure I've seen another series engage with its snarled continuity issues like this beyond the mcu cycle of 1) mock the problem 2) promise to simplify things 3) become the very thing you mock. So, neat to see where they're going with this, innit
115 notes
·
View notes
Text
-> play no games | trent alexander arnold
genre: flirty, smut | authors note: me trying to distract yall from the lack of updates from my jules fic…bare with me, also very loosely proofed
summary: trent thought he was a player on and off the field but he comes to realize he’s met his match with you, a socialite with an unwavering stubbornness.
faceclaim: lori harvey
“you know what your problem is? you don’t ever see the big picture. i want you to take me serious.”
youruser: diamonds are a girls best friend
frienduser: 🥵
frienduser: tell a friend to tell a friend! she’s baaaack
lanceuser: obsessed with you
lanceuser: how you want your eggs in the morning?
youruser: scrambled & in mykonos
Trent heard the rumors very early on when he joined the main squad at Liverpool - there was this girl and she was untouchable, she was the step daughter of one of the board members and she rarely gave anyone the time of day. Trent scoffed at the idea of her because he knew he could pull her if he had the opportunity. He couldn’t lie to himself and say he didn’t like the idea of a challenge. If there was one thing Trent was known to do it was win - on the pitch, off the pitch, mind games and in games that didn’t even matter. Your attitude was bratty and you had a smart mouth on purpose - if a man couldn’t keep up he got cut off. Trent could keep up and you wanted to push until he pushed back. You gave him an inch and he took a mile: one date, a little fooling around and suddenly, he was feeling himself. Trent kept expecting you to come back around, to reach and ask for his attention because he never texted first. He thought you were waiting for him. It never crossed his mind that you were entertaining someone else because in his mind, it was only him and he had the upper hand. But what Trent didn’t know was that there were plenty of men who wanted you and wanted to treat you right.
Trent sucked his teeth and rubbed his mouth with his finger tips. He literally sat upright from his laid back position on the couch, putting his elbows on his thighs. He stared at the comments for far too long. Who the fuck was Lance? Why the fuck were you dating a guy named Lance? Surely the two of you were just friends but Trent had no way to find out because the other man’s page was entirely private. The two of them shared a few mutual friends but that’s all Trent could find out.
After few days, Trent was fine with it. He wasn’t stressed over you and your whereabouts…not outwardly at least. He spent few nights on vacation in London, partying and entertaining pretty girls who were chasing him down for attention. It was in the middle of the club that he got a notification that you posted and he felt a certain satisfaction finding out what you were up to - he clicked on your profile as quickly as he could. He was taken aback by two things: you in that tiny ass bikini and lance scrambling you fucking eggs, in fucking Mykonos.
youruser: the grass is greener wherever i’m at
frienduser: not you being in mykonos fr lmao
frienduser2: frienduser it’s the way she can go to another country but not liverpool
youruser: you know i would never miss derby with my girls
lanceuser: what about my scrambled eggs 😔
youruser: best part of the trip, chef
“What a fucking joke.” Trent seethed and the girl next to him leaned in to get a look at his phone which he promptly locked. Never let your left hand know what your right hand is doing - rule number one that the veterans told him. He was on a roster and he has roster - it’s what guys his age did. You clearly hadn’t learn that rule as you flirted with a man all over your social media. There was one thing you told him that he kept in the back of his head: “You think I’m worried over you? You’re out of your mind.” He finally saw what everyone had warned him of all along. You got what you wanted and you toed the line of confidence and cockiness. Once upon a time, someone said the same about Trent. The boy was determined to get your attention, to get back into the game you were obviously playing. Trent sent a text he knew you would respond to.
Trent: I’ve seen the post. You can delete it now.
You: Stay out of my business.
Trent: You are my business.
You: You wish.
Trent: Anyone ever told you that you’re a brat?
Trent: I’ll see you in Liverpool
Derby day was fun for a multitude of reasons but this year was going to exceptionally fun. There was a part of you that looked forward to actually watching the match for once. You had one player on your mind. Your step-dad got you, your stepbrother, and all your friends a suite filled with drinks and food galore, pulling out all the stops and sparing nothing. Although he wasn’t the one who raised you, he made sure to take care of you as if he did. It’s exactly where your “high” standards came from, as told by your friends and men who approached you. It wasn’t lost on you that the Liverpool vintage jumper that landed on your doorstep was from Trent. You didn’t wear the jumper. Instead you opted for a Van Dijk jersey: it was the only one you had and it would make him angry. It worked out in your favor while you were hosting in the suite - a young business man named Emmanuel struck up a conversation and was beside you the entire match.
Your eyes were trailing Trent. He was such a man when it came to competing - no holds barred, a loud mouth, an instigator, and a full on menace. You enjoyed every second and each glass of champagne sent you spiraling into the idea of him being back in your bed once more, having you bent over and being bossed around. It would be inevitable that he would be coming back to your place at the end of the night but it was all about who caved first. You found yourself wanting to cave halfway through the game after an altercation where Trent was head to head with an Everton player, shoving him and ripping him a new one all in front of the referee, who could barely pull them apart. It was quite possibly the hottest thing you’d ever seen. After the win, you and your friends milled about the suite making plans for the night out. You all agreed on heading back and changing before meeting up for pre-drinks at Lance’s house. You made it back to your room and argued with yourself about being the one to send a text before you decided to stand your ground. You wanted him. But if he wanted you, he would have to work for it. Talk was cheap, you told him multiple times and you wanted action.
youruser posted on their story! captioned: super busy, don’t call
trentalexanderarnold66 replied to your story: wya
youruser: you wanna see me or something?
trentalexanderarnold66: or something
trentalexander66: got a section in london tonight bring your friends.
youruser: what part of super busy did you not get?
trentalexander66: text me when you’re outside, brat
You arrived on your own timing as Trent had come to learn over the past month casually dating you, and had grown to find sexy. You never let on to what your next step was which kept every man watching, waiting, to see where you would land. The funniest part of the night was that for once, Trent knew you would be coming back with him. Until he saw you walking to his section with Lance in tow. He stood up to greet you at the front but you walked past him and promptly to the section next to his before acknowledging him. Trent walked up the short wall that divided the two sections and crossed his arms ass you detached yourself from Lance who was talking in your ear. Dick, Trent thought.
“Do you think the world revolves around you or something?” All you did was laugh before turning your attention to the waiter who asked what you wanted a bottle of. “You’re not in my section. Why?”
Trent leaned his elbows down on the divider to be eye to eye with you. You tilted your head in the same way you did that night in your room, your eyes trailing down his face and pausing on his lips for a long moment before snappingback to his.
“I wanted my own.” You said as if it was obvious. Trent beckoned you closer with his fingers and you obliged much to his surprise and crossed your arms at your wrist behind your back. Your head was still tilted and Trent dropped his head into the open space before speaking low in your ear.
“Don’t start with me.” Your eyes flicked to the side and saw the section of men and women pretending to not notice the interaction unfolding - specifically the bottle blonde who tried to look unbothered. She was failing. You giggled in the most unphased manner but the truth was him in your ear hit your core like a lighting rod. You needed that drink. You grabbed his jaw softly with a smile he knew to be sarcastic, “Start what?” You puckered you lips and blew an air kiss towards him, then turning your attention to the bottle blonde sat across the way. “I love your hair!” Your hand finally left his jaw and you wiggled your fingers at him mouthing a “she’s cute”. Check mate. Lance shook his head as he handed you a drink and tsked at you. “You are awful.”
You were brushing your teeth in his bathroom, extra thankful he had extra brushes in there. He noticed what products you had at your own place and made sure you had the same at his house. He was done talking, he showing you he wanted this. But you couldn’t be so vulnerable. As you walked through your night routine, your body ached in the best way. Trent’s arms snaked around your abdomen to cradle you from behind as he always did when you were getting ready to go to sleep after a night with him. It was a routine at this point, one that you both knew well. His body towering over you as he would slip his hands onto your abdomen, letting his fingers caress your stomach. Your breathing hitched at the softness but you stood rooted in your spot. He stared at you in the mirror and asked, “What do you want?” You knew that Trent drank a considerable amount but you didn’t think that it would bring out this conversation. You wanted him but need him to want you too, so instead you simply replied “Hermés.”
“I’m being serious, what do you want.” He straightened up and placed a hand on each side of you.
“What are you going on about now, Trent. I don’t want anything….well, I actually do want Hermes.”
youruser: bad gyal never run from nobody
frienduser1: moving different these days
frienduser2: can your man fight pookie?
youruser: if you want me just say that but lemme ask him
Trent knew you could buy the bag yourself but he bought it and sent it to you, anyways. You made no comment on it but seeing you wear it was enough confirmation that you loved it. Trent laughed outwardly at your friends comment but noticed your reply and smirked to himself - her man? Interesting. You cleared the air about Lance weeks ago and Trent felt secure about what you two had. You rarely saw any other man these days. Usually you would be out every weekend on a dinner date or jetting off to meet a new person in another city. Trent was magnetic and you decided that you didn’t want what was out there - he was proving to be the best you could ever had. He knew it and so did you. Trent fooled himself because the next time he saw you, after a few nights of pure banter and great sex, you were cozy and close with a man in the family area after a game. Your step-dad was near and smiling at the two of you, while the two of you talked over one another, arguing with playful energy. The energy that took weeks for Trent to unlock out of you. Trent dapped up his friend and decided now was a good time to introduce himself to the executive board member but most importantly, your step-dad.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, heard nothing but great things from you son.” Your dad beamed and you were tight lipped as you looked at the scouse grinning devilishly. “Listen, sweetheart,” your dad wrapped his arm around Trent. Trent went from grinning to beaming his bright, cocky smile, “Without him, we’d fall apart.”
“Nah nah, I wouldn’t say tha’.” “Oh don’t be humble. I’m being rude, this is Trent.” and your stupid fuck-thing offered you a handshake.
“Trent, nice to meet you.” You took his hand and squeezed it tight which he returned. His eyes were challenging but showed disapproval.
“Ditto, heard so much about you, too. You know Emmanuel was telling me all about your stats this season.”
You were playing with fire but you didn’t care. The audacity he had was beyond you and you should have seen it coming from a mile away. It seemed that no amount of reassurance was getting through his thick skull - if he saw you with a man, he was questioning you. Trent wanted to mentally spar with you and measure up the man simultaneously. He was a jealous little thing but unlike the other men, he didn’t just talk about it, he was about it. It was all of five minutes when he arrived at your place before he started his tangent.
“You know what your problem is?” He goaded. “No but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” You rolled your eyes and it seemed to tick him off more.
“You aren’t serious! One minute your smiling me face then the next, your with some guy named Emmanuel at my game who’s chatting you up about my stats.” “Why is that when a man even breathes the same air as me or strikes up a conversation it’s my fault? You think I just sleep around?”
You couldn’t stifle the laugh you let out as pushed his way past you and into your room. His hand ran down his face and he scanned the lavish room. Trent knew you were well off but it still surprised him at times.“Why are you letting a guy chat to you?” He said with a cross of his arms. He looked cozy in Nike Tech despite the frown on his features.
“Why are you worried? You aren’t my boyfriend.”
“I’m your man and it seems everyone knows except you.”
“We aren’t doing this right now. I have to get ready to go out.”
“We are. Sit down, y/n.” He said confidently. He closed the space between you two. If it was any other man you wouldn’t have been bothered but with Trent, you were turned on. He was jealous. You knew Trent saw you hugging and laughing with Emmanuel when you walked down to the pitch briefly. Emmanuel reveled in your attention and you gave it to him to pacify your stepdad. It didn’t matter that he or any other man wanted you - you wouldn’t cross that line. He was sweet but you two were strictly friends. You stepped closer to the tall and broad man with a tilt of your head, refusing to do what he wanted. Trent eyed you for a moment and you could smell the gum he was chewing mixed with his cologne. His smile was arrogant as always. Him being jealous was so delicious, you wanted to devour every bit of him.
“Make me.”
Before you knew it, you were straddling him on your bed as he palmed every bit of your body he could grab. His hands were rough but felt so right in your hair as he kissed you. He was vocal with his kisses, mumbling how beautiful he thought you were and how badly he wanted you. His kisses trailed from your lips down your neck and to your collarbone, finding the exposed skin in the dip of your top. Your spot straddling his body wasn’t enough for him. “I need these off,” he commanded. He peeled your top off and made a swift move for your pants, wrapping one arm around your waist to hold you steady.
“You’re needy,” you replied but obliged to balance your weight to take off your shorts.
“Shut up.” Trent’s tone was deep and serious.
Trent was driven by the idea of being better than than any man who had ever touched you, truthfully. He found himself giving the same energy he would give to a match, being attentive and receptive to all your sweet moans. He took his time devouring you and unraveling any tension in your body that he could find. The way you whispered his name out, gasping for breath with each stroke he thrust into you. He was amazed by how perfect it all felt. You felt like everything he ever needed. The feeling of you around him was unlike any woman he has ever been with. Your body melted into his as he gripped the headboard steadying himself into a rhythm, making you beg for him. His chain dangled low against your skin and you found yourself fingering it and pulling it, bringing your lips up to his ear. His skin was smooth against yours and you clung to him with the same amount of urgency he was using to pound into you.
“God, you’re right there.” You told him in between desperate gulps of air, the sound so sweet in his ear and it took all the willpower he possessed to not combust in an instant. His eyes found yours and for a moment you could hardly breathe - not because of the way it felt like he was looking right into you.
“You’re unreal,” Trent spoke, finally breaking the way-too-intimate eye contact. He grunted with aggressive strokes. His eyes were trained on the sight of his cock going in and out of you, the wetness glistening off his skin. “I know.” You moaned, refusing to compliment him back but you knew he was getting off on you and your slick mouth. It wasn’t until a two hours later that that the two of untangled yourselves from one another and fell asleep.Trent did things that took you by surprise and had you struggling to hold back your screams. He egged you on, telling you to be loud, he didn’t care who heard. And by the time you woke up your voice was incredibly sore. You had multiple missed calls from your friends and from Lance. You rushed into the bathroom to assess how you looked and called them, letting them know you were going to be a little late. You ran the shower and mentally prepared yourself for going out after having the kind of sex that made you want to not leave bed at all.
“I fell asleep but won’t be long,” you spoke as you rummaged through your toiletry bag. “I’ll text you once I’m in the Uber.” “Sounds good.” Lance replied. “Lance, save me a shot will you? I need one. Bad.” He chucked and it brought a smile to your face.
“Anything for you. See you soon, love.”
“There’s no way you’re going to see another guy after tha’” Trent grumbled from the doorframe and the roll of your eyes was almost immediate. You made no comment and moved to grab your shampoo but Trent beat you to the counter and stood in front of you stuff. “Move.” You demanded.
“Make me.” He smirked.
“Bite me.” And it was his turn to roll his eyes. Your tone was snappy and it shocked him how quickly you reverted back to bratty attitude after sleeping with him. Trent’s stare was fierce - it was the same one he used on his opposition, baiting them with a look before toying around with them but you weren’t new to these games. You were playing too. So there the two of you stood in the steamy bathroom, eyes locked at as if you despised each other. As if you were just chest to chest and moaning each other’s name.
“I can do this all night.” You stated.
“I think there’s better things you could do all night, doll.”
youruser: he’s obsessed with me
frienduser: a scouse? a red??! i’ve lost my girl smh
frienduser2: y’all go together!
youruser replied: real bad
trentalexanderarnold66: 🤫
youruser replied: love you honey
lanceuser: only took forever
trentalexanderarnold66 replied: blame it on the brat
lanceuser replied: thank you for taking her off my exhausted gay hands
#football fanfic#football fic#football one shot#football x reader#trent alexander arnold social media au#trent alexander x you#trent alexander arnold x y/n#trent alexander arnold blurb#trent alexander arnold x reader#trent alexander imagines#trent alexander arnold imagines#trent alexander arnold imagine#trent alexander arnold
112 notes
·
View notes
Text
6.2 Lily
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, toxic plants being manipulative and toxic.
Word Count: Bucky done fucked up.
Previously On...: 2.5k
A/N: Please note: I will be taking a one week break from posting starting on Thursday, May 16th, to focus on writing. I will resume posting on Thursday, May 23rd.
If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
He was on his way!
After disconnecting from her call with Bucky, Lily bent down to her front driver’s side tire and, using her car key, pried out the nail she’d run over to ensure it would go flat while she ran the trail. Walking to the edge of the parking lot, she hurled the nail into the woods, getting rid of any evidence that she’d manufactured the current predicament she “accidentally” found herself in.
It didn’t matter if Bucky hadn’t come home from his date last night. Hadn’t told her that he’d even been on a date to begin with. What mattered was that, when Lily had called, Bucky had left the bitch behind and had come running. To her.
And that meant something.
Right?
Bucky could go out with some slut if he wanted to, but when Lily had needed him, Bucky had dropped everything to be there for her, and that knowledge made Lily’s insides glow with warmth. She was still his number one girl; she shouldn’t have let herself get worked up over one date that probably didn’t mean anything. Bucky had dated before, and Lily had made sure none of them stuck around for very long. This time wouldn’t be any different.
So, Lily waited. She checked her email, she played some games on her phone, she listened to a podcast. Finally, a little over an hour after she’d hung up with Bucky, she saw one of Tony’s sportscars speed into the parking lot and make its way to the trailhead.
Her heart sank at the thought of Bucky sending Tony Stark to help her in his stead, so it was quite a shock to her system when the car pulled up next to hers, turned its engine off, and Bucky himself stepped out. He wasn’t wearing his usual tshirt and jeans, no– he was wearing a rumpled burgundy button-up, sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the first couple of buttons left undone at his neck, and a pair of fitted, black trousers.
Lily swallowed. His hair was a mess, but she could imagine how put together he must have looked the night before, and that made her stomach twist. He’d made an effort. He’d made a real, genuine effort to dress up for this date that he lied to her about.
“Hey, Lil,” he said, once she got out of her car to meet him. He smiled, but she’d known him long enough to be able to tell when his smiles weren’t genuine, and this one didn’t reach his eyes.
“Hey, Jamie,” she said, offering him a fake smile of her own to hide her distress. “Thank you so much for coming out. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I’m sure Steve or Sam or anyone from the Compound would have been more than willing to help you out, Lil,” Bucky said as he walked to the back of her car. “Could you pop the trunk for me so I can get your jack and the spare?”
Lily bent her head back inside to unlock the trunk, rolling her eyes as she did so. If she’d wanted someone else to change her tire, she’d have just done it herself. Or, you know, not popped her own tire to begin with. But that was beside the point.
She walked around to the back of the car so she could help Bucky move things around in her trunk to get to her spare. “You’re dressed awfully fancy for a Sunday morning,” she said, watching him out of the side of her eye. “You find God and suddenly decide to start going to church?”
Bucky chuckled. “Something like that,” he said. Lily stole a glance in his direction and caught him smiling softly to himself as he pulled her spare out from the trunk with his vibranium hand. Taking her car jack in the other, he moved around to the driver’s side and began loosening the lug nuts with his left hand. Lily shivered when she considered how strong he was, how much power that one hand contained.
Once all the nuts were loosened, he slid the jack under the frame of the car and began raising it. He was annoyingly efficient at this, Lily thought, and she realized her window of time with him wasn’t as big as she had originally anticipated.
“So, where were you when I called this morning, really?” she asked, leaning up against the side of Tony’s car as she watched him work. She just wanted him to be honest with her. She didn’t think she could take it if he continued to lie.
Bucky stilled in his motions. “I… I, uh, had a date,” he said after a moment.
Lily paused, playing confused. “A date on a Sunday morning?” she asked him. “That’s a really weird—oh.” Bucky left the car suspended on the jack and turned to face her, hands shoved into his pockets, and the guilt in his eyes nearly palpable.
Good, Lily thought. Let him be guilty, now that he realizes I know he lied to me. “I didn’t realize you were seeing anyone, Jamie,” she said, voice deliberately meek and soft. “Why didn’t you say something?”
Bucky sighed and leaned back against her car. “It’s new,” he said. “Like, really new.”
Good, she thought. This hasn’t been going on for a long time. There was still a good chance she could nip it in the bud before it grew into a real problem. “So, when you said you were out with Sam last night…” She left it hanging in the air. Let him be the one to say the word.
“I lied to you,” he said with a sigh. “I’m sorry.”
“Why, Jamie?” she asked him. “I didn’t think we lied to one another.” She thought about the hole she’d punched in her own tire. Well, she didn’t think he lied to her.
“We don’t, Lil,” he said. “I just… It seems like whenever I start seeing someone new, you just…” he paused to consider his words, and Lily started to get nervous. Did he know… did he suspect the things she’d done in the past to keep other girls away from him? He couldn’t. She’d been so careful… “You just form a lot of opinions on them, really quickly,” he said, and she released a breath. He didn’t know anything. She was safe. “I wanted to get to know this girl on my own, without any outside influences, before I decided to find out what everyone else thought about her.”
“I only tell you what I think because I care about you, Jamie,” Lily protested in her gentlest voice. She was going to have to walk a very delicate line here, between stressing her point and sounding sympathetic. “I’m just trying to look out for you, that’s all.”
“I know,” he said with a sigh. “I know you are, and I do appreciate it, but… I want to be able to figure out how I feel about this one before I start soliciting opinions about her from everyone else. Does that make sense?”
It did. Fuck, it did. Usually, Bucky was so eager to talk about the new girls he was dating, to introduce him to his best friends and find out what they thought about her, to get their opinions. If he was reticent this time, it could only mean one, horrible thing:
“You really like this girl, don’t you, Jamie?” Lily asked, trying so hard to keep her voice light, when inside, she felt like she was dying.
Bucky looked up at her. “Yeah, Lil,” he said, his dazzling white smile beaming at her and making her heart stop. “I really do.”
“That’s great,” Lily choked out. She turned back to the trunk of her car, pretending to busy herself with its contents so she didn’t have to look at him. “That’s really great.”
She heard Bucky move around and start working on the tire again. “Not really,” he said, his voice sounding dejected. Lily moved her head around from the back of the trunk to look at him.
“What do you mean?” she asked, a spark of hope coming to life in her chest.
Bucky let out a long sigh. “I think I might have blown it with her,” he said as he worked to take the flat tire off of her car.
“Oh no,” Lily said, trying to keep the smile out of her voice. Maybe she wouldn’t have to do anything, afterall. Maybe Bucky had managed to fuck it up on his own. “What happened?”
Bucky was silent for a moment as he replaced the tire with ease. “I don’t really want to talk about it,” he said eventually. “Let’s just say that we left things very… ambiguously. I asked her if I could call her later, she didn’t really give me an answer either way. Just kind of shrugged. If she wanted me to call her, she would have just said so, right?”
Lily felt her stomach do a happy flip, but she put on a fake pout. “Oh, Jamie,” she said, fake sympathy oozing over her words, “please don’t tell me she’s playing mind games like that with you already! If a girl wants you to call her, she’ll tell you to call her, not play hard to get.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Bucky said defensively as he began re-tightening the lugnuts on the tire. “I just… I did something she didn’t like, is all. And she’s probably rightly pissed about it.”
Lily walked around the car to stand next to him as he finished up. “I don’t think I like this, Jamie,” she said cautiously. “You’ve barely started dating this girl, and already she thinks she can dictate your actions? That doesn’t seem healthy to me, at all.”
Bucky stood, running a hand across his face. “Nah, Lil– you’re… you’re getting it twisted. I made a mistake. I know I did, and she’s got every right to be mad at me about it. I need to talk to her, to sort it out.” Lily was losing ground; thankfully, she’d come prepared.
“Listen, Jamie,” she said, abruptly changing the topic in the hopes of getting his mind off this mysterious skank, “I was planning on having lunch up here today, since it’s so gorgeous out. I probably overdid it when I packed my food. Do you want to join me?”
Bucky heaved a sigh and looked like he was about to decline.
“Consider it my way of saying ‘thank you’ for you coming all the way out here to rescue me,” she added, knowing that she was laying it on thick, but not wanting him to walk away. “Come on, we’ll make a picnic of it. It’ll be fun!”
“Yeah, alright,” Bucky said, letting a smile cross his face. “I could eat.”
Bucky Barnes always did have a soft spot for a damsel in distress. With a grin, Lily opened the backseat of her car and pulled out the cooler she’d preemptively packed in the hope that just such an opportunity would arise. Lily was nothing if not prepared.
Bucky reached for it. “Here, let me,” he said, taking it from her. Lily smiled to herself as she reached back into the car to pull out the picnic blanket she’d packed.
“Such a gentleman,” she said as she closed the car door and led Bucky down one of the trails. It was a gorgeous late-summer day, and Lily could almost convince herself they were on a real date together. Almost. God, what she wouldn’t give for this to be the real thing.
After they’d walked for about fifteen minutes, Lily veered left off of the trail and into the woods. “You bringing me back here to kill me?” Bucky asked in a playful tone as he followed her with the cooler.
“Yup,” Lily teased right back. “I definitely have faith in my ability to take out a super soldier on my own.” Her heart swelled when she was rewarded with an amused chuckle from Bucky.
Soon, they reached her destination: a cozy clearing that sat along the bank of a creek that ran through the park, with a small waterfall that fed a crystal clear pool below.
“This is nice,” Bucky said, coming up behind Lily as she fanned out the blanket. “How’d you find this spot?”
Lily sat down and reached to take the cooler from Bucky, beckoning him to join her. “I was scouting some potential off-trail runs for the recruits and just kind of stumbled upon it,” she told him. She opened up the cooler and began taking out the food she’d brought– all of Bucky’s favorites.
Bucky nodded, then looked at the spread with wide eyes. “You packed all of this for yourself, Lil?”
Lily felt a slight blush creep up her cheeks– she had not, in fact, packed it all for herself, but specifically in the hope that he would end up joining her, though he could never know that. “I guess I just overestimated how hungry I’d be after my run,” she told him as she handed him a bottle of water. “Thanks for joining me so that all this food doesn’t go to waste.”
“No problem,” he said as he began to tear into the food she’d brought. “Thanks for getting a flat tire, I guess,” he added with a laugh.
They ate amicably, making small talk about their upcoming plans for the week, and how Lily’s latest batch of recruits looked. Lily was itching to ask Bucky more about his mystery date, to find out who she was, if she was someone Lily knew; but she didn’t want to bring it up– the less Bucky talked about her, the more likely he was to just forget about her all together, right? Especially if he’d done something to piss her off. Better to keep him distracted so that the window of opportunity for any reconciliation closed without him noticing it.
Soon, the food was gone, the sun high in the sky. Lily and Bucky both lay back on the picnic blanket, staring lazily up into the blue sky. “We should do something today,” Lily suggested, trying not to sound too eager.
Bucky chuckled. “Aren’t we doing something now, Lil?” he asked.
She playfully shoved his shoulder. “Later, I mean. Like, we’re having a good time; we should continue it. Go somewhere nice for dinner, do something after, like go to a club or see a show or something. Make a whole ‘friend-date’ night out of it!” Anything, she thought to herself. I’ll do anything, as long as I’m doing it with you. And who knew what could happen in the right romantic setting?
“Yeah, that sounds like it could be fun,” Bucky mused. “Sure.”
“Really?” Lily couldn’t believe her luck. “Leave all the planning to me, then!” She’d make sure she got a table at the most romantic restaurant she could find, and get them tickets to something steamy that would put Bucky in the right mood… She knew just what dress to wear, to show just enough skin to be tantalizing…
Yes, tonight, things were going to change. Lily could feel it.
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
122 notes
·
View notes
Text
❥ 𝙥 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧
trent frederic.
word count: 4.2k
warning: explicit content
"she wet in the shower" — gunna
A/N: this was an anonymous request for trent smut w/ a college student. so of course, i had to add some angst—makes it more fun. not to mention how much i love him, so who am i to deny it?! hope you enjoy! :)
- - -
“Do you think you’ll be able to come out soon?”
Trent’s hopeful tone of voice rang through the phone as you held it up to your ear, sitting comfortably in the quiet bedroom of your apartment. A pang of guilt washed over you. You already knew the answer, and it wasn’t the one he was looking for.
He and you first met when you were a freshman in college. He was a sophomore. You started dating quickly after. Now, you were a senior and he was playing in the NHL halfway across the country. But you lived in Wisconsin, so it wasn’t often that you got to see each other. It was difficult for him to visit during the team’s breaks, especially when the rest of his family was based in St. Louis. And you, on the other hand, were far too busy with work and school to make the extensive trips out.
“I don’t think so,” you finally sighed, pulling your knees into your chest. “I’ve been so busy, and I just—fuck, I miss you, but I can’t. And I’m so tight on money right now.”
“I’ll pay for it,” he pushed.
“Trent, I can’t,” you frowned, resting your chin on your knee. “Believe me—if I could, I’d already be there by now. It’s just…too much.”
A beat of silence followed, and you could practically picture the dejected look on his face. You knew he was still there—the soft noise of his breathing that came through the receiver told you so—but he waited to speak. He was running through any possible solutions in his head, yet not a single one was worthy of voicing.
“I want to see you,” he finally spoke. “I’m sick of only talking to you through the goddamned phone. It feels like this isn’t even real anymore.”
“Not real?” you asked, lips parted in shock. “Trent, what part of this isn’t real?”
“I—I don’t know. Look, I,” he breathed, “it’s just hard to watch all of the guys have their girlfriends here while mine is eleven hundred miles away and has barely even met any of them, alright?”
“Oh,” you spoke quietly, nodding your head as you took in his words. “So that’s it, huh? That’s the problem, isn’t it?” You fell back against your headboard, “You finally admit it, then. It’s because I’m not like them.”
“I never—”
“Oh, save it, Trent!” you shouted. “We knew this was what it would be like when the time came and we agreed to stay together. We agreed to make it work. Do you have any idea how much I’ve sacrificed to even be able to visit and see you when I do?”
You swallowed thickly, “I have juggled so many things in the past year and all I wanted was a little bit of sympathy from you. Christ’s sake, Trent, I know it sucks. I know, okay? But I am trying so goddamn hard to find the time to just talk to you like this right now!”
“That’s my whole point,” he retorted firmly, his voice irritated. “It’s like I never see you anymore. And when I come back, I have to decide between seeing you or my family, and you always make me choose them. So it’s pretty fucking frustrating to see everyone else have their girlfriends or their wives there when you barely get to talk to yours,” he took a breath. “This barely feels like anything anymore.”
“What, so you’re just going to act like I’ve never done anything for you? Like I haven’t been working day in and day out to make as much time for you as I can? I did everything for you when you still went to school here and this is the thanks I get?” you firmly stood your ground. “Yes, Trent, I know I’m not there. I know that. And god, I miss you more than anything—”
“Then come.”
“Jesus Christ, Trent, I can’t!”
You shook your head and sat up on your bed once more. You could only be thankful that you lived alone in your off-campus apartment, with all the back and forth you were having. “You can’t come here, and I can’t go there. That was the understanding when we agreed to make things work,” you lectured. “And trust me, it hurts me too. Fuck, it hurts to see people I don’t even know with their boyfriends. So don’t act like you’re the only one who’s hurting from this.”
“If this is making it work, then I don’t know what to do anymore.”
“Trent—”
“I’m just,” he shook his head, “god, I’m tired of this.”
Tears pricked at your eyes, the fear of what he’d say next slowly beginning to tear at your heartstrings. Although you hadn’t seen much of each other in recent years, Trent meant the world to you. He’d done just about everything in his power to keep you happy before he moved. And even after, he tried to see you as much as he could; as much as time would allow.
So the thought of what he might’ve been getting at made you sick to your stomach.
“You cannot put this on me,” you told him through the phone, fingers tightly gripped around the metal as if dropping it would make you lose him for good. “You have no. Right,” you swallowed, nostrils flared and teeth gritted. “It’s so fucking unfair.”
“You know what’s unfair?” His question lingered in the air, and you kept your mouth shut. It wasn’t something that you were meant to answer. So you waited.
“Being forgotten.”
And that was your final straw.
“Fuck you,” you sobbed, a tear cascading down your cheek. “If this whole long-distance thing wasn’t enough for you, then you should’ve just broken it off before.”
“I just wanted to see you.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not the one that left you, Trent.”
Your phone was face down on the bed almost instantly after you hung up. Any emotions you were desperately trying to suppress came to the surface, bringing you to tears as you buried your face into your knees. It all finally came to a head, and you couldn’t bear the outcome. Heavy sobs left your lips, pried relentlessly from your throat as guilt ripped through you. Your body refused to let up for even a second; not until every last drop of emotion was ripped from you.
And finally, once it was, you lay restless in your bed until morning, mind unable to escape the intruding idea of never seeing him again.
Hours turned into days, days into weeks of not hearing from him. Since that night, you began to work yourself harder, picking up hours to fill up the time you’d be alone. You couldn’t let yourself think about it, or else you’d break.
It had been almost a month since. You heard a knock on your door as you were headed for the bathroom, about to shower after another long shift. You were prepared for it to be another one of your friends. They’d been showing up at your door for days, trying to break you out of your funk, which only irritated you further. You sighed and tightened your robe, then walked to the door and swiftly opened it.
“For the last time, I’m fine—”
It wasn’t your friends.
Surprise laced your expression. Trent was standing on the other side of the doorway, hands stuffed into his pockets. His body was tense as he stood silently.
“Trent,” you finally whispered.
He stepped closer, eyes boring into yours when your head tilted back to look at him. His lips parted to speak, but you gave him no such chance when you threw your arms around him. Any emotions that you’d suppressed immediately surfaced, tears streaming down your cheeks as you buried your face into his chest.
“Shh,” he cooed, hands rubbing gently up and down your back.
His hand came up to your cheek when you pulled back, using his thumb to gently wipe it dry. The warmth of his touch radiated through the skin and you felt a sense of familiarity, of comfort being in his hold again.
“I’m so sorry,” you cried softly, your arms tightening around his midsection.
“God, no, don’t,” he hesitated, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “please, don’t apologize. None of this is your fault.”
He frowned, “It’s mine. I shouldn’t have acted like such a baby.”
“But I just got angry. I didn’t even consider how you’d—”
“Hey,” he sternly interrupted, pulling your body into his. “This was on me. I knew how busy you’d be when we decided to stay together. I was upset that I couldn’t see you and I blamed you for that,” he breathed. “You didn’t deserve that. Not after everything you’ve done to make this work. I didn’t do my part.”
Another tear fell from your eye, burning the skin in its path. “I wasn’t trying to make you feel like this wasn’t real anymore,” you frowned.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m just…dumb.”
“And I blamed you for leaving when you had no choice.”
He sighed deeply, urging your head to his chest. “It’s only a month left until you’re out, right?” he asked and you nodded, confirming his inquiry. “Okay. So we only have to tough out one more month of this…And then it’s over.”
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“It’s okay,” you finally spoke, leaning into him. “I am, too.”
You finally leaned up to kiss him and he quickly reciprocated, pulling your chest flush against his. His head craned to the side, deepening the kiss and turning it into something more than just making up lost time. You jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs tightly around his waist. He hummed against your lips, fingers gripping the underside of your thighs to support your weight.
“I was about to,” you muttered between kisses, “shower.”
“Explains the robe.”
He began walking forward, carrying you down the hallway as you remained perched on his waist. The soft material of the robe slid off of your thighs, exposing them to the cool air and allowing you to feel his bare palms around them. The ring that sat on his right index finger dug into the soft skin as he reached the door to your bathroom.
“Got room for one more?” he teased as he lowered you to your feet.
“Maybe,” you giggled in response, hands resting atop his shoulders. “Who’s asking?”
His fingers toyed with the belt on your robe, slowly beginning to loosen it around your waist. He lowered his head, forehead nearly touching yours, and softened his voice, “Someone who hasn’t been alone with his girlfriend in a long time.”
“Hm,” you considered, fingers dancing along the back of his neck, “I think something can be arranged, then.”
The robe’s soft fabric fell open as he let go and brought his hands to his shirt, removing it in one go. With that, you slipped the rest off and stepped into the shower, then quickly turned on the water as he rid himself of the rest of his clothing. As you waited, you shampooed your hair, thoroughly rinsing it out and basking in the warmth of the water over you.
It wasn’t long before the curtain opened and in stepped Trent, who had discarded all but his silver chain, including the ring he wore just moments before.
“God, have you gotten bigger?” you asked, hands traveling up his arms. “Or has it been that long?”
“Maybe you’ve just gotten smaller.”
You rolled your eyes promptly, chuckling softly before leaning up to kiss him again, allowing the hot water to cascade slowly down your back. You flipped your bodies around and his hair grew darker as it slowly dampened, curls dissipating as they flattened atop his head. You were quick to run your hands along his upper body, palms grazing the skin of his chest down to his stomach. Your touch earned a groan of approval from his lips as you and your body swiftly moved down.
Down to your knees, even, right in front of him.
A few soft, teasing kisses were pressed to his tip before you drew his cock into your warm mouth. A large hand snaked into your hair, roughly gripping the wet strands as he turned just slightly, back now facing the wall. The hot water coated his body, allowing your lips to glide smoothly along his length, teeth lightly grazing the skin.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he drawled, hand setting your pace as the steam from the water rose up around you.
Slowly, he began to pump his hips, tip hitting the back of your throat with each gentle thrust. His head drew back, pressing against the cool, wet tile as he sucked air through his teeth. Your nose nearly came into contact with his pubic bone as you took as much of him as your mouth would allow. But as much as he would’ve wanted to, he refrained from forcing you down.
Instead, he relished in the feeling of your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock again for the first time in months.
Deep breaths left his mouth in the form of groans, his lips parted and face contorting with pleasure. Soon his head was off the wall again as he looked down, driven wild by the sight before him—his girlfriend on her knees in front of him, looking back up at him through tattered lashes, sporting stains of mascara that ran down her cheeks.
It was nearly enough to send him over, and you felt him growing more tense. The grip on your hair tightened as he sped up your pace just slightly, a choked moan escaping your lips and humming against his skin. His free hand darted out and pressed firmly against the fogged glass door, aiding him in maintaining any sort of composure he could conjure up.
Just as he was about to warn you of how close he was, you slid him out of your mouth. When your eyes flitted up, they were met with his disapproving glance, chest rising and falling as he breathed deeply.
“Why did you stop?”
“To irritate you,” you scrunched your nose. “But mostly to tease you.”
Light kisses were intricately pressed to his tip, the action just perfectly denying him enough sensation to fulfill his needs. But enough to make him ache with want, with need; the need of release. Of breaking the taut line holding him together. He was on the brink, and you knew it, but you were denying him.
How cruel.
Maybe it was a form of payback for the argument he started a few weeks before. For making you think you were broken up for all that time. Something like that, he convinced himself. All he knew was that you had every intention of making him wait, and he had no choice but to accept it.
“Mm,” you hummed, the fingers of one hand curling around his length and the others around his thigh as your lips trailed the same torturous kisses down to the base and back up. His hand brushed through the dripping wet strands of dark ginger hair atop his head, feet planted deeply into the floor below him.
Unfortunately for you, he wasn’t the only one who craved his release. And fortunately for him, you were finally willing to give him the satisfaction.
So you drew just the head back into your warm mouth, tongue swirling around the swollen area tactfully. Soft lips glided along his skin as you slid them further down on him, and the line finally snapped like a twig. The aftermath flooded your senses, his taste gathering on your tongue as the sound of his groans filled your ears.
And his traces went smoothly down your throat with a prompt swallow.
“Fuck,” he finally managed, eyes following you as you rose to your feet.
“That,” you started, licking the remainder from the corner of your mouth, “was for that phone call.”
“Yeah?” he asked, a smirk settling in on his face.
“Mhm,” was your sharp-tongued response, bringing a grin to his lips. You reached for the conditioner, “And you deserved it.”
He nodded as you squeezed a bit into your hand, afterward lathering it in your hair. He brought his hands up to your head and tilted it back, using his fingers to rinse out the cream gently.
“Maybe I did,” Trent hoisted you up, an involuntary gasp falling from your lips.
“—But now it’s my turn.”
Your back pressed against the cool tile as he turned your bodies to the side, water now hitting him at an angle as he pinned you up. You breathed out sharply from the force at which you hit the wall, lips parting as your gaze fell on his grin-inhabited face.
The heat formed beads of sweat on both you and Trent’s foreheads, mixing with the hot water as it continued to fall behind his body. He leaned up and connected his lips with yours, a hand running through your equally wet strands before sliding down your tense figure. The other locked fingers with your own and roughly pressed the back of your hand against the tile above your head, drawing a needy moan from your throat.
Your free hand slid up his front and came into contact with the cold, wet metal of his chain. God, you loved it. And he knew it, which was why he never took it off at moments like this; whether it was the tag tapping against your cheek as he thrust into you or it pressing into your skin as your back arched against him, or even just the sight of it poking out from under his shirts, it set you ablaze, similar to many other things about him. Like his hair. Or his hands.
Or the head of his cock as it dragged along your soaked folds, teasing you until you begged for more.
Which, oddly enough, was exactly what was happening to you then.
“Trent—fuck,” the words weakly fell, “please.”
His lips were at your neck, working the soft, damp skin just as you did to his body just minutes before, only now the added pressure of him at your entrance came into play.
“What is it, hm?” he mumbled, trailing down to your collarbones and back up.
“Need to feel you,” you breathed heavily, “now.”
Lips stretched into a grin against your skin just before he pushed himself into you, allowing you to sink down onto him properly. Your hands quickly lifted and tenaciously gripped his shoulders for stability. His head lifted from your neck and fell back, mouth open as he exhaled deeply from the pressure of you enveloping him. He was hardening at an unfaltering rate from the sensation, and his mind was running a mile a minute.
Because no effort he made to relieve himself when he was alone could ever replace the feeling of your inner walls constricting around him.
And fuck, did he miss that feeling.
Finally, your boyfriend was buried inside you again. Finally, he was stretching you out again, occupying every last inch of space that your body would allow. The feeling was all too familiar, but that was what you loved most; how perfectly he fit you, and how it was still able to make you see stars, regardless of how many times you’d felt it before.
His hips instantly moved in a controlled rhythm, leaving no time to exchange pleasantries. Hard thrusts drove your vulnerable body up the wall, large hands now having moved to your hips, fingers pressing firmly into the wet skin.
He wasn’t going to waste any time taking things slower, softer as he normally would. Oh, no—there was no time for that. He needed you oh, so desperately at that moment—to take you. Hard. Fast. That’s what months of deprivation did to a guy like him; a guy who hadn’t felt the touch of his girlfriend in so long that it hurt.
Luckily for him, he wasn’t the only one starving with want.
So the payoff was all the sweeter for the both of you as each torturous thrust forced the tip of his strained, desperate cock to brush just against the right spot within you. Various expletives filled the fogged air of the bathroom, sounding in the form of your weakened voice. Nail-shaped craters formed on the skin of his back while he roughly pistoned his hips forward and back, relentlessly pushing your back against the slick wall behind you.
“So glad you live alone and not on that fucking school ground,” he mumbled, pressing kisses to your exposed shoulder.
Usually, he was more gentle with you, and you’d grown accustomed to that. You liked it that way. But you couldn’t deny how much you loved, in contradiction, the times he decided that gentle wasn’t enough. That it simply wouldn’t do. When all he could think of was the burning desire to pin you to the wall and fuck you dumb with pleasure because he was so damn starved from not seeing you as often as he should. Because he knew better than anyone else that you could take it.
You’d no doubt have prints on your back from the incessant pressure of him pressing you against the tile behind you, and you briefly considered the thought. It left your mind quicker than it came, however, because it wouldn’t be the only thing left behind on your body from the exchange that night.
They’d pair nicely with the marks that extended from your neck to your collarbones.
“Close, Trent,” you muttered, head falling forward and resting atop his shoulder. “I’m…fuck, I’m close.”
A phrase that had become so familiar to him, so routine, as if it were some sort of perverted Bible verse you’d been trained to memorize. One that he’d never get sick of hearing because he knew that every time he was the reason for it.
Of course, you didn’t have to say it, because he already knew you were there. And if you weren’t, someone ought to have explained to him why you felt so tight, all of a sudden.
“Come on, baby,” the words rolled off his tongue languidly, “let go.”
So you did, clenching around him and crying out with a weakness that laced your voice. White hot pleasure surged through your body as he fucked you through it, his thick cock continuing to provide you more pleasure with each calculated thrust than any store-bought substitute could manage. Calloused fingers grasped urgently at the swell of your hips, the hold on you firm enough to keep you stable as you shattered around him for what felt like the first time in years.
Not a moment was wasted before ropes of hot liquid emptied into your stomach, thoroughly coating your waiting, sensitive inner walls. A satisfied groan exited his lips, the sound low in your ear, and you were sure it was the hottest thing you’d ever heard. A hand traveled up to his wet locks, pushing his head forward and allowing your mouth to envelope his in a deep kiss as his hips slowly, carefully came to a stop.
His tongue explored your mouth as if it had never been in its vicinity before, head tilting to give himself easier access. Meanwhile, he pulled out and began to lower you down, the muscles in his arms straining as they held you up for support. Your feet were once again planted on the wet, slippery floor of the shower as your spent body remained still between his large frame and the tiled wall behind you.
He pulled away and stepped back, sliding his hands off you as he turned the knob behind him to increase the water’s temperature. Then, he moved in the stream’s direction, arms reaching outward and pulling you toward him. Your back quickly came into contact with his firm chest, metal pressing against the now patterned skin as his hands placed themselves atop your slick skin.
A pair of soft lips peppered gentle kisses from your neck down to your shoulder, fingers rising to brush your hair away. The scalding hot water hit his back and extended to your exposed shoulder blades, effectively relaxing the tense muscles of your worked bodies. After all, it had been quite the bit of time since either of you had been in such a position.
“I love you,” he murmured, lips brushing against the skin of your ear as his hands ran down along your arms beside you.
Your head fell back against his chest, “I love you, too.”
He leaned down to press another kiss to your lips, arms wrapping around your waist and his hands finding purchase on your stomach, allowing him to inch your body closer to his. Both his and your eyes then fell shut as you settled into him.
It was all so…intimate; intimate in large contrast to the last time you spoke to him before he showed up at your door looking for forgiveness. And of course, he received it, because the whole disagreement was fueled by the sole fact that he simply missed the woman he loved.
The same woman who stood in his embrace as they fell into a comfortable silence, minds focused only on the sound of the water and the steam slowly rising around them.
#trent frederic#trent frederic fic#trent frederic imagine#trent frederic smut#trent frederic x reader#boston bruins imagine#boston bruins#hockey fic#hockey#fanfic#t. frederic
70 notes
·
View notes
Text
Was Any of it True? // ALTERNATE ANGST ENDING
Based on this request! 🖤
A/N: Here we go again! The beginning is the same, the new angsty ending starts after the row of black hearts. 🖤🖤🖤 (This one really hurt my feelings, friends 😭)
Word Count: 10.5k
“I'm telling you, Az, she's pissing me off. The professor loves her, and I saw that she got a 100 on the exam,” Claire was seething while she and Azriel lounged in his apartment, eating the pizza he'd ordered.
“Mhmm,” he mumbled around his pizza, only half listening. Claire was always complaining about something. “And what did you get?”
“98! He took two points off because I didn't answer thoroughly enough,” she scoffed. “God, I hate her. She's going to push me right off the top of the Dean's list.”
Azriel blinked. “I mean, you'll still be very near the top of the list.”
Claire groaned, throwing her napkin onto her paper plate angrily, “That's not good enough!”
He rolled his eyes and she glared at him. “Don't be an ass! This is a big deal to me.”
“Oh, I know it is. This girl is all you talk about.”
“Because I hate her. Maybe if she got laid, she’d be distracted enough to slip up once in a while,” she grumbled.
“Yeah, maybe,” Azriel said, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it on the table, a sufficient signal that he didn’t want to talk about his girlfriend’s arch nemesis anymore.
No more than a week later, Azriel’s on-again-off-again girlfriend was off-again, and honestly, he was relieved. Claire’s obsession with being at the top of the academic food chain was bordering on insanity, and he was glad he didn’t have to hear about it anymore.
He was currently at a house party that Cassian had dragged him to, with a blonde girl that he couldn’t remember the name of sitting in his lap, one of her arms draped behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. She had been whispering in his ear all the things that she wanted to do to him, before Cassian interrupted, handing Azriel a shot with a grin.
Blondie scowled at Cassian, who just smirked back as the girl that Cass had been talking to earlier sidled up next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle.
Azriel knocked the shot back and handed the cup it had come in to the blonde girl. “Can you get me another one?”
She seemed annoyed, but took the cup from him anyway, striding into the kitchen.
“Sorry for interrupting,” Cassian said, settling on the couch next to him, before pulling the girl onto his lap.
Azriel rolled his eyes. “Like I give a shit.”
Cassian snickered as the blonde girl came back, draping herself in his lap again, handing him another shot. He drank it, just as Claire appeared before him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky.
“I have a proposition for you.”
He smirked, making a show of tightening his grip on the blonde girl’s waist. “No, thanks. Been there, done that.”
“Not that kind of proposition, you idiot. Can we talk privately? I think it’ll be worth your while,” she said, her lips turning up into a sultry smile.
“I don’t know, Claire, I’m pretty busy right now,” he said, turning his gaze to the blonde girl, squeezing her thigh. She sighed dreamily, leaning further into him.
Claire groaned. “Look, Az, I really need your help. Please?”
Azriel studied Claire, and he could see that it was true. She was wearing her most annoyed, don’t-fuck-with-me face, but her eyes were pleading. Sad.
He sighed, glancing apologetically at the girl in his lap before turning back to Claire. “Fine, we can talk.”
She led him into someone’s empty bedroom and shut the door behind her.
“If this is about that girl you’re obsessed with, so help me,” he said. She winced, and he threw his head back. “Unbelievable. Claire, I don’t want to hear about this anymore! I don’t care about your problems.”
“Just hear me out!”
He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.
“She actually is threatening my spot on the Dean’s list now,” she said, looking close to tears.
He looked pointedly at her. “And?”
“And I was thinking about what I said earlier… about how if a really hot guy was interested in her, maybe she would stop caring about her grades so much,” she said, smiling at him now.
“And?” Azriel just wished she would get to the point.
Claire sighed, exasperated. “I need you to seduce her.”
Azriel barked out a laugh, leaning his shoulder against the nearest wall. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I do that?”
She stepped closer to him, trailing a finger along his chest, her touch feather-light through his black t-shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, “Because I asked? Because I’ll give you anything you want,” she said, her voice dropping seductively.
He held her gaze, leaning down until their mouths were a breath away. Azriel heard her breath hitch.
Then he pulled away rapidly, and she blinked. “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”
Her brow furrowed, her nose scrunching up. Oh, she was furious. Azriel's mouth turned up into his calculated half smile.
“What do you want, Az?” she huffed.
“Hmm,” he said, taking his time to think. Claire scowled. “I haven’t decided yet. But when I need to call in a favor of my own, you have to promise to do it. No matter what,” he drawled.
To her credit, she really looked like she was thinking it through, trying to think of another way to push this girl off the list. But finally, she sighed. “Deal.”
He pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”
Claire shook her head, her eyes still alight with her anger. “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”
Azriel bristled a bit, leaning against the door now. “I know I’m an asshole, but that seems too far, don’t you think?”
“No. If she’s going to be distracted enough that her grades will slip, you need to make it seem real,” she said, and then smiled as if she had a wicked thought.
“What?” Azriel asked.
“And then you break her heart, right before exams,” she said excitedly, her eyes burning with enthusiasm now. “You tell her, in front of everyone, that it was all fake.”
He rubbed at his bicep, a nervous tic that Claire picked up on immediately. “Jesus, Claire. I don’t want to ruin this girl’s life.”
She arched her brow. “Why not? She’s ruining mine.”
Azriel rolled his eyes and Claire pounced, “Any favor, Az. Any time, you can tell me to do whatever you want,” she smirked.
He groaned, pinching his nose. “Fine,” he ground out. “Where do I find her?”
Claire beamed. “Where else would a nerd be? The library, of course.”
---
You shifted in your seat, starting to feel sore after poring over your notes for hours. Maybe you should go for a walk. Maybe. But, you still had so much to do…
Groaning, you crossed your arms on the table, laying your head down on top of them. Just a minute, you just needed a tiny break --
“Studying always makes me feel like that, too,” said a low, male voice.
You lifted your head, bewildered, and nearly choked on your own spit. The guy who was for some reason deigning to talk to you was… well, what other way was there to say it? He was drop-dead gorgeous.
His face was stoic as he sauntered up to your table, his jet black hair was just a tad unruly, his hazel eyes burning into yours. But it was his body that made the breath completely escape your lungs. He was dressed in all black, his t-shirt hugging his chest and his biceps, showing off his every muscle, and there were swirling black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves.
All you could do was stare as he took the seat across from you, leaning back with his arms crossed like the two of you did this every day.
“What class is that for?” he asked, nodding to the textbook open in front of you, the dozens of papers scattered around you.
“Organic Chemistry,” you said, trying to sound like you were normal and not completely surprised by this handsome stranger finding you in your favorite quiet corner of the library.
He let out a low whistle, “Damn, you are smart.”
“What, did someone tell you I was?” you asked.
“No, I just figured when I saw all the --” he gestured to your cluttered workspace, “homework stuff.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Homework stuff?”
His mouth turned up the slightest bit, holding up his hands like he was surrendering. “You caught me. I’m not much of an academic.”
“Then what are you doing here?” you asked curiously.
“Now, that is an excellent question,” he said, and really did seem like he was questioning it. “Girls? Parties? Though I could get girls anywhere and I don't particularly enjoy parties.”
You nodded. “Ah,” you said. “Got it.”
He braced his arms on the table, leaning forward. “I take it you’re not into that kinda thing?”
A dry laugh escaped from your throat, “Definitely not. I’m really only here for the--” you mimicked his gesture from earlier, “homework stuff.”
He barked out a laugh, his stoic face completely transforming for the briefest of moments. You couldn’t help but stare. “You’re telling me all you do is study? A beautiful girl like you? Please tell me you’ve been to at least one party,” he said, looking at you incredulously.
You blushed. “No, I haven’t been to any.”
You braced yourself for impact, for the teasing or insults to come, but he just smiled softly. “You wanna go to one with me tonight?”
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You don’t even know my name.”
The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. “What's your name?”
Rolling your eyes, you told him.
“Nice to meet you. I'm Azriel.” He raised his eyebrows, “So? Party?”
“I thought you just said you don't like parties!”
“True, but I do love the thought of corrupting a sweet, innocent bookworm,” he smirked.
“No, thanks.” You couldn't imagine yourself going to a house party, especially not with a stranger.
Azriel's cool-guy demeanor seemed to drop the slightest bit. “Why not?”
You looked at him pointedly. “I don't know you. And I have no interest in being corrupted. Why do you want me to come to this party so badly anyway?”
He shrugged casually. “I like you.”
“You don't know me!”
“See, that, right there,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “You're funny. Smart, beautiful. What's not to like?”
You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I'm not going to a party with someone I don't know. They make true crime documentaries about that sort of thing.”
He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Okay, you make a fair point. What do you want to do then?”
“What do you mean?”
“You can pick our first date, since you didn't like my idea.”
“What date?” You blanched.
He arched an eyebrow. “Our first date? Weren't you listening?”
You studied him for a moment. For the life of you, you could not figure out what this guy's angle was.
As if reading your mind, he said softly, “Look, I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and that it looked like you could use a break from studying. That's it,” he held his hands up again. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to go, I'll go.”
For a beat longer, you watched him, his body language, his ridiculously pretty face. What was the harm, really? You sighed, tore off a scrap of paper from your notebook, scribbled out your number, then handed it to him. “I need to study. If you text me later, I'll let you know where we're going on the first date.”
His face broke out into what might have been the first genuine smile you'd seen from him. He took the paper from you, his fingers brushing against yours.
“Can't wait.”
You were half expecting to never hear from Azriel again. But just a few hours later, as you were eating dinner in your apartment, your phone chimed with a text.
Az: Done studying yet?
It was an effort to bite down your smile.
You: Taking a break for dinner.
It was less than a minute before he responded.
Az: Dinner? Is that what our first date is going to be?
You didn’t try to hide your smile this time.
You: A little cliche, don’t you think?
Az: Oh, absolutely. So… what are we doing?
You: Meet at the tennis courts at 7 tomorrow?
Az: We’re playing tennis?
You: No, but I’m not giving you my address. And I’m not giving away the surprise.
Az: So smart. So mysterious. I’m swooning.
You: Shut up.
Az: See you tomorrow ;)
You tossed your phone to the side, forcing yourself to focus back on your schoolwork.
The following day you parked your car by the empty tennis courts on campus just before 7. It was early spring; the weather finally started to warm up enough to not be too chilly in the evening. Still, you rubbed your arms nervously. You were starting to regret this. You didn’t know this guy at all. What if it went horribly wrong?
Before you could contemplate bailing, a familiar figure rode up on a jet black motorcycle. Of course this guy had a motorcycle. You couldn't see his face underneath the helmet, but you would already recognize those tattooed arms anywhere.
He parked his bike, smoothly sliding off it and taking his helmet off before sauntering over to you. “Hey, beautiful.”
You rolled your eyes, sure that he had said that to a million girls on a million dates before.
“What? Don’t do that,” he said softly, his smile softening and his gaze raking down your body. “You are beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you said quietly, giving in.
“So,” he said, towering over you. “What’s the plan?”
You smiled. “How’s your mini golf game?”
He raised an eyebrow, looking a little skeptical. “Mini golf? That’s what you’re choosing?”
“Yes, it is. Do you have something to say about that?” you teased.
His eyes sparked at the tone in your voice. “Nope. Nothing at all.” He nodded to his motorcycle. “You wanna hop on the bike?”
You looked pointedly at him and he laughed. “Didn’t think so,” he gestured to your car. “Lead the way.”
Your nerves started to dim as the two of you fell into a rhythm going through the course. The two of you were just talking and laughing like it was normal. It was… fun, actually.
“Shit,” Azriel muttered as he overshot the hole. Again.
You laughed and his eyes flicked over to you, lingering a bit. “You’re good at this, bookworm,” he said as he took another shot, sinking it into the hole this time. You watched, leaning against your putter, having finished that hole two shots ago.
Shrugging, you said, “I used to go with my family a lot.”
He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked to the next hole. You cleared your throat, focusing on your steps, on your breathing, on anything but how it felt to have him touch you so casually. “What about you?”
“What about me?” he asked as you dropped your ball onto the green.
You took your shot before you answered. The ball landed just shy of the hole. “What’s your family like?”
“My family…” he trailed off, clearing his throat, setting up his shot. He paused to look at you for a moment before he swung. “It’s complicated.”
He hit the ball and it stopped right next to yours.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, as the two of you walked further down the hole.
“No, you didn’t. It’s just… I don’t really talk about them with anybody.”
You nodded, not sure where to go from here.
Azriel smiled reassuringly, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Stop worrying.”
“I’m not worrying,” you claimed, your voice an octave too high.
“You are. I can tell.”
You bit your lip to hide your smile as you sunk your ball into the hole.
“I think I’m going to need some pointers from you on the next hole,” he grumbled.
“I guess I could help you out,” you laughed.
So, when you got to the next hole, the last hole, he stepped so close that your bodies were nearly touching. You tried to control your breathing.
“You’re gonna help me out?” he murmured, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment.
“Okay,” you breathed.
He stepped behind you, his body pressed against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands covering yours on the club.
“How is this going to help you, exactly?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady.
His lips brushed your ear as he said, “Oh, trust me, it’s helping.”
You couldn’t say anything. Could hardly breathe.
“What do you think I’m doing wrong?” He murmured.
You swallowed. “You’re hitting it too hard. Not exactly rocket science.”
“Mmm. That makes sense. I do tend to go… hard.”
That finally had you coming to your senses. You stepped out of his grasp, turning back to glare at him when you were a safe distance away.
The side of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Sorry. I couldn't help myself.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him again. “Just take your shot.”
He smirked at you for a moment, before he swung, and the ball went right into the hole.
He turned to you, his eyes wide. You laughed and he hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around.
You let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, and he laughed, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “Thanks for the help.”
“I think you’ve been playing me this whole time,” you joked.
His smile fell a little, his eyes sobering.
“What’s wrong?” you asked. When he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, you added, “Azriel, I was joking.”
He blinked and then his natural, stoic expression was back as he took a step closer to you. “Right. I think you’re just a good teacher.”
You just looked at him, trying to decipher the changes in his mood, who he really was underneath the gruff exterior.
He smiled faintly, stepping even closer. “What are you thinking about?”
You had to crane your neck to look him in the eye now. “I'm trying to figure out what you're thinking about.”
Azriel's smile turned into a smirk. “I'm thinking… that I really want to kiss you. But I don't want to scare you away.”
Heat flooded your face and his smile turned softer as he cupped your cheek gently with a rough hand. “Would it scare you away?” He murmured.
“I -- don't know,” you said honestly.
His hazel eyes dipped to your lips and stayed there. “I think I'm gonna have to take the risk,” he said, his voice low, husky.
“I think so, too,” you breathed.
His free hand slinked around your waist, gently pulling your body into his. Your heart thundered in your chest as he leaned down, slowly bringing his lips to yours. He seemed to give you a moment to process, and you felt him smile against your mouth when you started to kiss him back, your fingers curling around his bicep, his shoulder.
You were breathless by the time he pulled away, and as the two of you drove back to the tennis courts, you couldn't help but hope that it would happen again by the end of the night.
When you parked your car near his motorcycle in the abandoned lot, he lingered, his gaze holding yours, dropping to your mouth again.
He shot you a crooked smile. “Aren't you gonna walk me to my bike?”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you got out of the car, walking over to the motorcycle and settling against the fence near it, crossing your arms over your chest. “Happy now?” You asked.
Slowly, he sauntered over to you, his eyes twinkling under the stars. He raised his arm, twining his fingers in the chain link fence above your head, leaning his body towards you, but not quite touching. He gazed down at you, still sporting that half smile. “Very happy,” he murmured.
Your breath hitched and when his smile widened, you knew he heard it.
He held your gaze as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours again. You let yourself fall deeper into the kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you.
When he finally pulled away, he was grinning. “Want to go for a ride before you head home?” He said, nodding to his motorcycle.
You had stepped far enough out of your comfort zone for today. “Maybe next time.”
He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “So you're giving me a next time?”
Damn. You blushed. “I said maybe.”
“Uh huh, sure,” he said, leaning in again so his lips were barely an inch from yours. “You can't wait to see me again,” he whispered.
You shoved him away lightly and he chuckled, backing up towards his bike, but keeping his eyes on you. “Until next time, then. Have a good night, bookworm.” He winked before putting his helmet on and speeding away.
A few weeks, a few dates, and several kisses later, you couldn't deny that Azriel was on your mind quite a bit.
You had never thought that someone like him would be interested in someone like you, but he seemed to prove time and time again that he did indeed like you. He texted you flirty little things every day, making you blush in class. He asked about your day, and seemed to genuinely be listening, and he would do pretty much anything you wanted on your dates. Last week, the two of you had gone to a local bookstore and he had watched you browse, a small smile on his face. He ended up picking out a book he wanted you to read and you did the same for him. He had been sending you daily updates on his progress through the book. Slowly, you were starting to let your walls down, despite yourself.
So, when he asked you to finally go to a party with him, to meet his friends, you accepted. You still felt cautious: partying had never been something that you were remotely interested in, but you trusted him.
---
Azriel knew he had to tread this next part carefully. Things had been going well with you. He let you take control of your time together so you would be comfortable, and honestly, he was actually having a really good time getting to know you and seeing where you would take him next.
And when you kissed him… God. It was always a struggle to keep his hands on your waist, to stay PG. He wished he could explore things further with you in that regard, but he wouldn't let himself go there. Not when your broken heart was the finish line.
He rarely let himself think about it -- the deal that he had made with Claire. Being with you felt so natural that he usually forgot he was supposed to be acting. That he was supposed to be leading you to Claire’s revenge.
He had convinced you to come to a party, upon Claire's request so she could see the progress he had made with you. You had said yes, he assumed because you trusted him enough now. The thought made his stomach roll. He was really starting to hate himself for getting mixed up in this.
Azriel acted differently around you than he did around the rest of the general population. At a young age he had learned to keep quiet, to not show a single emotion on his pretty face, to be tough, or be punished.
With you… he couldn't help but smile. Couldn't stop the laughs that he usually stomped down for the rest of the world.
So, having his two worlds collide at this party…he didn't know exactly how to navigate it. Deep down, it made his heart swell that you trusted him enough to help you navigate something so far out of your comfort zone. But if his friends saw the way he acted around you, he would never hear the end of it.
This would be a mess.
If Azriel wasn't leaning against his motorcycle when you exited your apartment building, he may have fallen over. You were wearing skintight jeans and a black tank top that showed more cleavage than he ever imagined he'd see from you. His fingers flexed on his biceps. He wanted to pull you back into your apartment and spend an hour peeling those clothes away inch by inch.
He blinked the lust away, trying to maintain his stoic expression, but failed, as he always did with you. He smiled at you and you smiled back.
He could tell by the way you carried yourself as you neared him that you were nervous. “Hey, beautiful,” he drawled his usual greeting as you wrapped your arms around his waist in your usual greeting.
“Hi,” you said, a little sheepishly. His eyes must have lingered on your curves a little too long because your eyes widened a bit, and you bit your lip nervously as you pulled away from him. He nearly groaned. “Is it too much? Do I look stupid?”
Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders gently, dipping his head to look you in the eyes. “You look amazing. Seriously.”
You blushed and murmured, “Thank you.”
He had to turn away, to grab your helmet, so you wouldn't see how much you affected him. He fucking loved it when he made you blush like that.
Azriel turned back to you, holding up the helmet, his eyebrows raising with amusement. “You ready to join the dark side, bookworm?”
You sighed, shifting on your feet.
“It'll be okay,” he said softly. “I got you.”
You nodded, seeming to resolve yourself, and reached for the helmet with slightly shaking hands.
He helped you make sure it was on correctly, his fingers brushing your chin, your neck. He bit back a smile as you shivered.
Azriel held your hand as you got settled on the back of the bike, showing you where to put your feet, and how to shift your weight with him.
When you seemed at least somewhat comfortable, he slid his helmet on, smoothly setting onto the motorcycle. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your chest into his back. You were already holding him like your life depended on it, and he beamed freely underneath the helmet.
“Hold on tight,” he shot back at you, before he revved the engine, taking off much more gently than he normally would.
He tried not to think about the feel of you pressed into him, how tightly you were holding on. It didn't work. He wanted to drive you everywhere.
He couldn't resist reaching back to briefly squeeze your thigh at a red light. “How are you doing?”
“Good,” you said. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a smile in your voice.
Too soon in Azriel's opinion, they had made it to the party. He parked, offering you his hand to help you get down.
When he pulled the helmet off your head, he was pleased to see that you were indeed smiling.
“Have fun?” He smirked.
“I did, actually,” you said, sounding a little breathless.
“Whenever you need a ride, you just let me know,” he winked.
You laughed, glancing behind him at the house.
He took your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You seemed to relax a bit. “We can leave whenever you want, okay?”
Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled nervously up at him.
You were doing this for him, he realized. Because he had asked you to. His heart constricted, guilt churning in his gut again as he led you inside, your hand squeezing his tightly.
His shoulders tightened as he led you through the crowd, making sure you were tucked in close to him.
“You want a drink?” he asked, as you made your way to the kitchen.
“Sure,” you said.
He rifled through what was on the sticky counter, trying to find something not disgusting for you to drink, making sure you stayed close to him.
Finally handing you a cup, he put your hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a corner of the living room that wasn’t yet very crowded. He took a seat on the couch and you settled in next to him, tucked closely into his side.
You smiled, leaning your shoulder into his. “Is this really it?” You asked skeptically. “You just sit here and drink around a bunch of drunk idiots?”
He laughed before he could stop himself. “I mean, yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he said, dipping his head to say in your ear. “Or we could dance. Or make out,” he smiled against your ear.
You blushed and he laughed again, kissing your temple.
Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Cassian and Rhys showed up, grinning at you, their eyebrows raised. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had seen him laughing with you, kissing you, he knew. He had nearly forgotten where he was, why he was here with you. He loved them, but he wasn’t sure what they would say to you about him. They didn’t know about his arrangement with Claire, and he had been keeping details about his relationship with you as vague as possible.
“So you’re the one Az has been spending all his time with,” Cassian grinned.
You smiled sheepishly, leaning further into Azriel. “I guess.”
Azriel nodded to his friends. “This is Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve been my best friends since we were kids.”
He could tell you were intrigued by that. He still hadn’t told you anything about his childhood.
Before you could ask any questions, Claire showed up next to Azriel’s friends, her expression the very picture of friendship. It unsettled him so much that he held you closer to him, so you were practically on his lap.
“Hi Claire,” you smiled, and his heart sank. You really had no idea how Claire felt about you.
Claire smiled back. “Hey. I never expected to see you here.”
“I’m trying new things,” you said, smiling lightly at Azriel.
He couldn’t take it, having you so close to Claire, seeing that trust you had in him when you looked at him. He cleared his throat, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it, smiling politely at Claire and his friends as he led you through the house, out to the backyard.
“Is everything okay?” You asked, looking up at him curiously as he leaned his back against the side of the house.
“Yeah,” he said, unable to stop the smile that rose to his face as you gazed at him with your big doe eyes. He tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I just wanted you to myself for a minute.”
“Oh yeah?” you flushed, and before he could stop himself, he kissed your cheeks, feeling the heat against his lips before his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss.
He was still kissing you when he heard Cassian snickering close by. “Oh shit, he’s whipped.”
Azriel rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, but kept his hold on your waist. “How am I whipped?”
Cassian’s eyes gleamed with mischief and Azriel’s heart started to pound. “Sneaking out here on your own. You’re usually content to stay on the couch to make out with your girl of the week.”
Your body tensed in his arms and Azriel groaned internally, glaring at Cassian, who smirked. “Oh, she didn’t know? My bad, Az.”
Azriel’s expression was enough to send Cassian back inside.
Your brow furrowed as you stepped back, out of his reach. “Girl of the week?”
He winced. “He’s being dramatic.”
You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him, crossing your arms over your chest.
It was kind of adorable, but Azriel reigned in that comment. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, look. I told you when we met that I go to parties and meet girls there. But things are different now,” he said, taking a step closer to you. And it was true. Things were different. You had been the one haunting his thoughts since that first date. He had barely looked at anyone else since.
After a moment, you sighed, and he knew you wouldn’t resist when he wrapped his arms back around you.
“Cassian’s an idiot,” he murmured, his focus back on your lips that he was dying to kiss again.
“So I’m not the girl of the week?” you said quietly, your eyes on his lips now.
He smiled. “We’ve been seeing each other for several weeks, haven’t we?”
You nodded, biting your lip, before you stood up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel was surprised by his own relief. “Are we going back inside?” you asked.
“Not if you don’t want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist again.
Pursing your lips in thought, you said, “Mmm. Let’s go back in.”
“Yeah?” he said, surprised.
You smiled up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His heart melted. “I’m trying to be brave.”
He kissed your forehead, smiling faintly. “I’m proud of you, bookworm.”
You beamed, your whole face lighting up.
Azriel led you inside, his hand on the small of your back, trying to manage the swell of emotions in his chest. He didn’t have the time to process them right now.
The two of you mingled throughout the party for a few hours, and you even went so far as to dance with him for a bit, your body pressed against his, your hips swaying to the beat of the pounding music. He could hardly believe it, the way you let loose with him.
He stopped in the bathroom before the two of you left. He wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but when he returned, he spotted you near the kitchen, backing away from a guy who was clearly very drunk and very horny. Azriel saw red.
Before he could take a second to think, Azriel was upon the bastard, punching him in the jaw.
He heard you yelp. The asshole staggered back, swearing, his hand cradling his jaw. Azriel barely spared him a glance, his hands gently holding either side of your face, his gaze raking your body, searching for any sign that he had touched you.
Your eyes were wide, your breathing labored, but you seemed physically fine. “Are you okay?” he asked.
You nodded, your eyes still frantic.
He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you outside. Claire caught his eye on the way out, hers shining with delight. He scowled at her.
When you made it outside, he hugged you to his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
You snorted. “You were gone for a few minutes. It’s not your fault that men are gross.”
“Are you okay, really?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye.
“I’m okay,” you said quietly.
He held you close to him, gazing at you for another moment before you smiled faintly. “You really didn’t need to punch him, you know.”
He winced slightly, remembering the yelp you let out when he threw that punch. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you said, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him.
Azriel held you until his heart rate slowed down, until his body was convinced that you were okay.
Later, after he had dropped you off at your apartment, Azriel stayed awake, tossing and turning, so many images from that night racing through his mind.
The way his heart constricted every time you smiled at him, the horror he felt at seeing Claire play nice, the terror and rage that flowed through his entire body when he saw that creep bothering you…
Azriel knew then, that he had real feelings for you. Shit.
---
“C’mon, baby, you’ve been studying for ages already,” Azriel murmured, standing behind you as you sat at your desk in your apartment, his arms draped around your chest, his lips trailing down your neck.
Your toes curled, heat running right through you. You wanted to give in. You really did. But…
You sighed. “I’m sorry, Az. I have this big exam on Tuesday. And finals are only a few weeks away.”
For some reason, that comment made his entire body stiffen. “Oh, yeah. Finals.”
You snorted. “Don’t tell me you forgot about finals.”
“No, I just… they’re soon.” His voice wavered a bit as he stood up fully. You twisted in your seat to look up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes swimming with anxiety.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. “Do you need me to help you study?” He had never seemed to care about his grades before.
He leaned into your touch for a moment, shooting you a forced smile. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I should go, and let you study.” He stooped down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I won’t distract you anymore today.”
Before you could even respond, he was out the door.
You turned back to your notes, but couldn’t digest any of the information. That was… weird.
Azriel and you had been dating for months now. Though neither of you had ever put a label on it, you both knew you were exclusive.
In the privacy of your own mind, you secretly loved that he acted so differently around you than he did out and about on campus. You felt like you got a different version of him that was saved especially for you. It made your heart swell, all the little things he did for you each day.
You were also willing to admit, to yourself only, that you were absolutely in love with him. You had known for weeks now, and had been debating whether or not you should tell him.
He had been the one that made you step out of your comfort zone, to try new things, to be brave.
So, soon. You would tell him soon.
---
Azriel had to get out of the deal. Now.
He remembered the exact moment that he realized he was in love with you. It was a random afternoon, the two of you were watching TV at his apartment. He was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him, your legs intertwined with his, your head on his chest. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair while you giggled about something that happened on the show.
And he had the thought. I want my whole life to look like this.
And he knew. He loved you.
This had scared him, obviously, on multiple levels. He had never loved anyone before, never knew what that looked like. Yet somehow, he knew without a doubt that it was true.
And then, of course, there was the deal he had made with the devil.
He had known early on that he would have to get out of the deal. He had just been putting it off, hoping that Claire’s insanity would die down throughout the semester.
But now his time was up.
He prayed to whoever might be listening that Claire would listen to reason. That she would call it off. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. He wouldn’t do it.
Claire smirked as she opened the door. “I’ve been wondering when you would show up. It’s been a long time, Az,” she purred.
Azriel stalked into her apartment, barely sparing her a glance. “The deal’s off, Claire.”
She cocked her head to the side, amused. “Oh? Why is that?”
“Because it’s insane,” he growled. “You were insane for coming up with it, and I was insane for agreeing to it. I’m done.”
Slowly, her lips curled up into a lethal smile. “You fell for her.”
Azriel blinked.
Claire cackled. “Oh, this is rich. You actually fell for the bookworm? I never thought I’d see the day. No wonder you haven’t been crawling into my bed.”
He scowled. “The deal’s off,” he repeated in the tone he used to scare people away.
She really looked at him then, her eyes bearing into his. After a moment, she finally said, “Okay.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay? Just like that?”
Claire shrugged. “You were right. It was an insane plan. And it didn’t even work,” she said bitterly. “You suck at your job. She’ll still be on the top of the Dean’s list, even after all your lovey-dovey shit.”
A swell of pride ran through him at the thought of your name at the top of that list.
“Alright,” he said, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out if there was some kind of angle here. But, there didn’t seem to be one.
He left quickly, his heart and mind feeling lighter. The guilt of how the two of you started would always be there, he knew. But now when he looked into the future, it wasn’t a hazy blur of nothingness that he saw. It was you.
---
The week before finals, there were parties everywhere. So you heard.
You had gone to a few more with Az over the past few months. It still wasn’t exactly your thing, but you didn’t mind going, especially with Azriel being so attentive to you every time you did.
Azriel didn’t seem particularly interested in going to this one, but his friends had been complaining that they never saw him anymore, so he agreed to go. And you had agreed to go with him, if only to take a break from your near constant studying these days.
You followed him through the crowd, his hand clasping yours, as always. Drinks in hand, you made your way to the outskirts of a group of people who were dancing and you joined them, Azriel pulling you in close to him, moving against you.
A laugh burst from you, and Azriel grinned, leaning down to kiss you.
You were so happy, you thought. So happy in that moment with him. You knew people watched you, as they usually did when Azriel was like this with you. You didn’t care.
When he pulled back from the kiss, he gazed down at you, his eyes swimming with affection.
“I love you,” you said before you could stop it.
His eyes sobered, and he pulled you in even closer, so your bodies were flush together. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in a crowd of people, Azriel said, a soft smile on his face, “I love you, too.”
Your heart leaped and you grinned, threading your fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to yours.
Suddenly, the music stopped, and from the TV came a voice. Azriel’s voice.
Everyone turned to the sound, curiously, watching. The video was jumpy, filming the floor, like it was filmed from someone’s pocket.
Azriel tensed, his arms still around you. “Fuck,” he said. “We need to go.”
Utterly confused, you didn’t argue as he pulled you through the crowd. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard video Azriel say, “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”
Your blood ran cold, shock jolting from your heart down to your toes. Azriel was tugging on your arm, but you didn’t budge as you heard Claire’s voice next.
Claire. He had been talking to Claire. What did he mean, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted? You hadn’t even known that they knew each other. When was this filmed?
“Baby, please, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go,” Azriel was saying, sounding frantic.
You wrenched your arm from his grasp, weaving through the still crowd, moving toward the TV. You heard him swear, calling your name behind you, but you kept moving.
They were saying something about a deal, about him owing her a favor. You couldn’t make sense of it, not until you heard video Azriel say, “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”
Video Claire responded, “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”
It was then that you noticed Claire, next to the TV, her eyes locked on you, smirking.
You couldn’t breathe, your legs were going to give out --
It was all fake. All of it.
Azriel caught up to you then, picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest, the shock setting in. You had to get out of there, even if it was him that carried you out.
When he made it outside, you pounded on his back with your fists. “Put me down, you asshole!”
“Sorry,” Azriel said, wincing as he gently set you on your feet. “You looked like you were going to pass out.”
“Like you even care,” you spat, storming away from him.
“Of course I care. Please, just give me a minute to explain,” he pleaded, following you.
“Explain what?” You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. “That you played me for a fool? Made me fall in love with you as a sick joke? Well, congratulations, it worked,” you said, pouring every ounce of venom that you could muster into your voice. You turned back around and continued walking as tears started pricking your eyes. You refused to let him see you cry.
“It may have started out that way, but it’s not like that anymore. From the first date, I had feelings for you. I love you. You have to believe that,” he said, right on your heels.
You knew he could catch up with you easily if he wanted to. He was hanging back, trying to give you your space. That pissed you off even more. “How could I possibly believe that?”
“Because you feel it, I know you do,” he said, finally wrapping his fingers around your wrist.
You tugged your hand free, but stopped walking, needing to catch your breath. You faced him. “What was the point?” You asked quietly. “Why make the deal?”
It didn’t matter. But you had to know.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Claire and I used to date. When you transferred, you pushed her off the top spot of the Dean’s list. She hated you for it. She said she would give me any favor I wanted if I made you fall for me… to distract you from school.”
You were so surprised that the tears you had been holding in started to fall. You angrily swatted them away.
Azriel continued, “I said no at first, but she was persistent, and…” he took a deep breath, darting his eyes away from you for a moment. They were shining with unshed tears. “I have no excuse. I agreed to it. I’m an asshole. But you made me want to be different.”
“Was any of it true?” You heard yourself saying, your voice breaking.
He lifted his hand, like he was about to reach for yours, then let it drop, thinking better of it. “It was all true. From our first date, you were breaking down my walls, making me smile, making me laugh.” He smiled sadly. “I fell for you. I love you,” he said, and now a lone tear did slide down his cheek. “I called it off with Claire ages ago. I told her I was out, and she agreed. I… I didn’t know she filmed it.”
You wanted to believe him, that he really did love you. But… “Even if you do love me, that doesn’t change what you did,” you said in a small voice.
Azriel sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. “I know. I am so, so sorry.”
Shaking your head, backing away from him, you choked out, “I don’t -- I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”
He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. “Please. Please don’t go.”
Turning your back to him, you walked away, barely registering the pavement beneath your feet, the direction you were going.
Azriel called your name, but you kept walking.
You knew he had followed you home, not letting you walk alone at night. You watched his form retreat after you locked yourself inside your apartment with trembling hands.
You went to bed, not even bothering to change. Laying on your back, watching your ceiling fan spin around and around, you tried to identify all that you were feeling: shame, humiliation, sorrow. Fury.
Replaying all that had happened between you, all the times he was probably laughing at you with his friends behind your back. You felt nauseous.
How could he do this? How could he have played you for so long?
What the hell were you supposed to do now?
You woke up to several missed calls and texts from Azriel, all sent hours apart. It seemed that he didn’t get any sleep at all.
I am so sorry. I’m the worst person in the world. I know that.
I know what you’re thinking right now. I know that you’re going over it all in your head. But, it was real, baby. It was all real. I swear it was. I love you so much.
I’m hoping you’re getting some sleep. Can I see you today?
Groaning, you tossed your phone to the side, and took a long shower. By the time you got out, someone was knocking on your door.
You quickly dressed in some old pajamas and called through the door, “Go away, Az.”
“Well, at least you’re alive,” you heard him say. “Can I please come in? Two minutes?”
You threw the door open, furious. “No, you cannot come in. You humiliated me. You used me. You had your fun. What else could you possibly want?”
Azriel was standing on the threshold, his hands in his pockets nervously, his facial expression looked like you had just slapped him. “I want to apologize! I want to make things better, that’s what I want.”
Biting your lip to keep from crying, you said quietly, “Go away.”
His face fell. “I love you.”
Shaking your head, you said, “You don’t.”
He took a step forward, wedging his foot on the door jam so you couldn’t close it on him. “I do,” he said, his eyes pleading, baring into yours. “You know that I do. You know I’ve never let anybody else see the real me. Nobody but you.”
Tears spilled onto your cheeks then, and he wiped them away gently. Despite everything, you couldn’t back away. “It doesn’t matter,” you croaked. “You only went out with me so you could help her ruin my life.”
Azriel opened his mouth, as if to reply, but then shut it.
You laughed humorlessly. “See? Even you don’t have a comeback.”
His eyes softened, his rough fingers still absentmindedly stroking your cheeks. “Please,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not enough,” you whispered, your heart breaking all over again as you looked up at him, at the pain in his eyes.
“How do I fix it?” He whispered back, tears sliding freely down his cheeks now.
“I don’t know,” you said, stepping back out of his grasp. “Please, Az. I just -- I need to be alone right now.”
He nodded, drawing his arm across his face to wipe the tears away. “Okay. Okay, I’ll umm -- I’ll see you later?”
You didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know if you would see him again at all. He took a step back, into the hallway.
Without another word, you shut the door.
Especially knowing where that awful bet had originated, you refused to let Azriel and Claire get in your head for finals. You buckled down, spending entire days at the library studying, writing papers, finishing projects.
It was helpful, actually. You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, about all the memories you had that had become so tainted and confusing.
By the end of the semester, you had maintained all your A’s, passing every final with flying colors. And thus, secured the very top spot of the Dean’s list.
Azriel had been texting and calling every day. You left them all unanswered.
You hadn’t yet had time to think, to process through the hurt.
A new text chimed as you were packing up your car to head home for the summer.
Saw the list. Nicely done, bookworm. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really am proud of you. Looks like all that hard work paid off ❤️
Later, you were hefting your last box into your trunk when you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle slowing down behind you. Your heart raced. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to see him again or not.
Despite everything, there was a swell of emotion in your chest at his words. God, why did everything have to be so awful?
Slowly, you turned around to see Azriel sliding off the bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, somewhat tentatively.
“Hi,” you said softly.
He nodded to your car, his expression grave. “You’re leaving?”
“Back home for the summer,” you said, unable to take your eyes off him. He looked tired. And sad.
A moment passed silently, the two of you just looking at each other, pain hanging in the air between you.
“I miss you,” he said quietly.
You sighed. Willed yourself to be brave. “I miss you, too,” you admitted.
Something like hope gleamed in his eyes. “I love you,” he murmured.
“I --” you started, and couldn’t bear it. “I need time.”
He looked crestfallen, like you had just punched him in the gut, but he nodded. “The summer?”
You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “Okay. I get the summer, and I’ll find you in the fall. We’ll talk then.”
“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “Thank you for… for that. For talking to me now,” he winced. “I know I don’t deserve it.”
“No, you don’t,” you said, but there was no malice in it. You were too tired. “I get the summer, Az. Don’t contact me until school starts.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed. “Okay. I’ll see you in September,” he said, backing up towards his bike. “Have a good summer, bookworm,” he added with the slightest of smiles, before he slid on his helmet and drove away.
🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
You spent most of the summer moping around, reading books, and trying to sort through everything that happened, all the feelings you had.
For three months, you sifted through every moment that Azriel and you had shared together, picking them apart, deciphering every movement.
It may have been slightly unhealthy.
No matter what you did, you couldn’t unsee it: Claire’s smirk, her eyes alight with evil joy as she watched you unravel before everyone at that party. The party that you were only at because you trusted Azriel, loved him.
You couldn’t get Azriel’s words out of your head. I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.
It had been easy for him. You melted like putty in his hands from the first time he touched you. Humiliation rolled through you in a wave again, even if there was nobody to see it. You had never cared much what other people thought of you. It was something you had always taken pride in. But this… this was an embarrassment, a hurt that ran bone deep.
And that nickname for you, the one that sent butterflies through your stomach every time he said it, had come from there, from that awful deal he had made to publicly break your heart.
You couldn’t understand how to put the pieces together of the Azriel you knew and the Azriel who would do this, who had willingly hurt you so badly. It didn’t make any sense. It probably never would.
Thinking back to him calling after you on that dark street, your breath coming to you in short, shallow gulps, he had said that he had called off the deal, that he didn’t know she had filmed it. Like that was supposed to make it better.
All it meant was that he wouldn’t have told you. You may have spent your whole life with him, and he would’ve kept that secret, forever hiding the fact that he had only noticed you because his girlfriend hated you.
And you would have spent your whole life with him, if he had let you. That was the worst part. You really did love him more than you had ever loved anyone, felt more than you ever knew you could.
The love had been real, you knew, even if it hadn’t started out that way. That just made it more unbearable.
Dread filled your very bones as September drew closer, of the inevitable moment when you would have to see him again, lay everything out on the table. You still didn’t know what you would say.
---
On the last day of August, Azriel sealed his final letter to you.
He put it in the box with the other 91 letters, one for every day that you were apart.
It killed him, not being able to see you, not being able to reach out at all. But, you had made your boundaries very clear, and he wasn’t about to mess that up now, not after everything that he had done. So, he wrote and wrote and wrote, telling you all the things he hadn’t got to in person.
He hoped that he would get the chance to give the letters to you, to express just how sorry he was and how deeply he loved you.
The summer was miserable. For as much shit as Cassian and Rhysand gave him when he was with you, they had even admitted that they missed having you around, if only because it kept Azriel from being pissed off and mopey all the time.
The worst part was that he had nobody to blame but himself. He had tried to blame Claire, at first. But, he knew it wasn’t sound. He was the one who had agreed to the deal, the one who had been with you every day, keeping that damning secret.
It had taken him a while to work up the nerve to text you on the first day of September, asking to meet.
He felt like he was holding his breath until you finally responded hours later, asking to meet up at the tennis courts.
He couldn’t tell if that was a good sign or a bad one, that you had asked to meet up at the same place from your first date. It could be a sweet full circle moment. Or it could mean that you don’t want him near you, and want to meet somewhere public because of it. His heart cracked at the thought.
You were already there when he arrived, sitting under a tree, your body closed in on itself. His heart leaped at the sight of you after all this time.
He approached you slowly, like he would an injured animal. When you looked up, you didn’t smile. His heart sank into his stomach, apprehension weighing down every part of him.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said, trying to keep his voice light, but it came out gruff and raspy.
“Hi,” you said timidly, gesturing for him to sit down.
He did. It wasn’t lost on him that you were looking at him like he was a stranger. Maybe to you, he was now.
Azriel stayed silent, waiting for you to speak, willing you to say that you forgave him and everything could go back to the way it was.
It took you another few moments before you said, your eyes trained on your hands in your lap, “I thought about everything a lot over the summer. Over and over and over again. And I just…” you looked to the sky, trying to keep the tears from falling, he knew. Panic shot through his whole body. “I can’t get past it, Az,” you whispered. “I can’t be with you, knowing how we started.”
Azriel felt like the world was spinning, like everything around him was on fire. “I love you,” was all he could manage, the words choked out of him.
Finally, you looked into his eyes, tears falling down your cheeks now. It took everything he had to stay where he was, to not wipe them away. “I deserve more,” you said, your voice cracking. “I deserve someone who wants me from the beginning.”
“I want you,” he said, not caring that he was crying in public, that he was groveling on his knees where anyone could see him. “I love you.”
“Please don’t make this harder than it already is,” you croaked.
Azriel wanted to argue, to kick and scream and cry. He wanted to beg you to take him back, to give him another chance. He wanted to throw that box of letters at your feet and prove that he had thought of nothing else, nothing but you for three months.
But, it wasn’t what you wanted. And Azriel had done enough to hurt you already.
It took every bit of strength he could muster to force his mouth to say, quietly, “Okay. I hope you get everything that you want, bookworm. Everything. I mean that.”
It took everything in him to rise to his feet, to walk away and leave you behind in that grass.
As he threw the box of letters into the dumpster behind his apartment with shaking hands, he knew without a doubt that his heart would never be repaired, that there would always be a hole in him that nothing but you could ever fill.
He wished he could go back to the way he was: the aloof asshole who didn’t give a shit about anybody or anything. But he couldn’t be that guy, not anymore. Not after you.
So, instead he spent his days walking through the world with the rest of the heartbroken, cursing his own damned name over and over again, until it meant absolutely nothing.
@loving-and-dreaming @birdsflyhome @hanuh @sheblogs @iambored24601 @thalia-as-blog @evergreenlark @ecliphttlunar @bookloverandalsocats @melmo567 @headacheseason @sillysillygoose444 @yourqueenlilith @mariamay02 @halibshepherd @azrielshadows1nger @cigvrette-dvydrevms
#acotar fic#acotar one shot#acotar x reader#azriel x reader#azriel one shot#acotar#azriel acotar#azriel x you#azriel angst#acotar angst#azriel fanfic#azriel fanfiction#azriel fic
63 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hey I don’t know what’s happening anymore. I said I wasn’t going to get involved anymore. I’ve been in bed with a migraine feeling like I’m going to throw up all day and I wake up and see this problem still continuing even to now, getting even worse than yesterday.
If you support doxxing, fuck you. If you think antiship proship discourse is anything more than chronically online bullshit and is worth making lists over fuck you. I’ve been roped into this and put on a “hitlist” despite doing FUCKING NOTHING. I have been more stressed these past twenty four hours than I have needed to be. If you do a hitlist at least do your fucking research about who’s on it.
I cannot do this anymore. I hope the people behind the list read this and know that half the people on the list are not even proshippers. It is not a content warning list, it is just a harassment list. It’s a list that puts a bunch of people on the spot and frames them as fucking evil. There’s no other reason it exists.
If you have been involved with this, leave my blog, I don’t want you here. I’m tired of this. Get out.
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
This Must Be The Place: Chapter 7 - Make it up as we go along
Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader
Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Bit of assault towards Bucky (but not enough to hurt him), a just a note that this probably isn't the healthiest dynamic...
Ah surprise chapter drop! Hope you enjoy. I probably won't be able to post again until monday now. As always, I appreciate your lovely reblogs and comments. I'm so glad people are engaging with this series and I hope you continue to enjoy it!! I’m afraid I don’t have a taglist for this series, I don’t use them as I’ve had technical issues with them in the past. Sorry!
(gif not reflective of how reader looks)
You knew he was right – you needed to clear the air, and fix whatever the hell was going on between you both (if anything). But you couldn’t resist being petty, lashing out after his poor treatment of you earlier. Granny always said be the bigger person…but she was a far better than woman than you.
“Sorry. Can’t. Not on the clock,” you shot back at him as you unlocked the car.
You opened the car door and his arm moved to your shoulder, holding you firmly to stop you from getting in. You held strong, not letting his touch melt you.
“Fine. I deserve that,” he said gruffly, “but I really do want to talk to you. Please”.
The softness in his voice caught you off guard and you found you were annoyed by the sudden wobble of weakness you felt. No! STRENGTH!
You sighed heavily. “Alright. Step into my office,” you gestured to the car.
You slipped into the driver’s seat as he dropped his hold from your arm, then he followed suit by getting into the passenger seat alongside you. The Mustang’s passenger seat looked almost comically small with his big bulk spread across it.
He turned to look at you, face perfectly illuminated by the parking lot lamps. It wasn’t fair that anyone could possibly look so hot in fluorescent lighting.
“This is a nice car,” he said admiringly as he looked around the interior.
“I know” you replied curtly. “She’s my girl”.
“What’s her name?”
“Sally”.
He blinked at you.
“Mustang…Sally? Really?”
You folded your arms defiantly. “Is that a problem?”
“No…no…it’s not…” but you could see in his face he was trying to hold back one of those stupid smirks.
“If you’ve come here to make fun of me you can get the hell out…”
“No! I haven’t. Christ. It’s just funny…that’s all. It’s…cute”.
“Shut up, James”.
“Ohhh…you found that out, huh?” he grinned wickedly. “Well joke’s on you, cos I like you saying it…”
You took a second to scowl and him, then stared ahead out of the windshield with your arms crossed, hoping you looked more mysterious stranger than you did tantruming toddler. The two of you sat uncomfortably in the resulting silence.
“I’ve been an ass,” he told you, his eyes intense.
“Yes, you fucking have” you growled back at him.
“I’m sorry…really-”
“Look…Bucky,” you interrupted him aggressively. “I get it, we kissed. It didn’t mean anything to you. Fine. Whatever. But you didn’t have to ignore me…you didn’t have to parade Amber around in front of me like-”
“Sugar…”
“No! I mean how hard would it have been to drop me a text? Or tell me you made a mistake? Literally anything…”
“Sug…can I speak-”
“I’m not some random girl in a bar, Bucky! You can’t just ignore me. We work together. You’re my boss. You can’t just lay one on me and act like I don’t exist and-”
“Sugar! I’m trying to explain myself here!!” he barked, but you seemed to be on a roll…the floodgates were open.
“And another thing! Why are you getting aggressive about me meeting guys?? I can date who I like! You don’t get to be angry, especially when-MMPH!”
Bucky had clamped his large metal hand over your mouth, quite literally silencing you. Your eyes widened in shock; his tactic must’ve worked because you were briefly stunned into submission.
“I’m sorry…that was rash of me, but I literally can’t get a word in edgewise…” he told you gently, his voice quiet as if trying to talk down a spooked horse. “If you’d just let me-”
You yelped and shrieked as you wrenched his hand from your mouth in disbelief.
“What the FUCK was that?” you squawked as you struck him on the shoulder. Not hard enough to hurt, if you even could hurt him, but hard enough for him to curse and utter your name in incredulity.
Suddenly you were climbing over the seat and swatting at him, your anger boiling over. The inevitable purge after holding everything in all night. You knew it must’ve looked funny as he was so much larger than you, but your anger outweighed any self-consciousness.
“What. The. Fuck” you cried out, punctuating each word with a thwack to Bucky’s torso as he swore and tried to shuffle back, but the lack of space in the car meant he had nowhere to go. He just bumped into the passenger window as he exclaimed at you.
He quickly became tired of your attempted assault and wrapped his arms around yours, trapping them at your sides and effortlessly pulled you over the seats. “Alright,” he said tiredly. “Enough of that!”
Suddenly you were incapacitated in his hold, essentially straddling his lap as you voiced your outrage and tried to wriggle out of his hold.
“Bucky! What the-”
“You wouldn’t stop hitting me and shouting in my face! Jesus! Do you have any idea what a menace you are?”
The two of you squabbled for a little longer, faces inches apart.
“If you would just listen…”
“You can’t just DO stuff like that!”
“Why do you have to fight me on every, single, thing?”
“Why can’t you just be upfront and direct with me for once?”
A sudden silence enveloped you both as if someone had flicked an off switch, the bickering now replaced with a shared penetrating stare between you the two of you. Almost nose to nose. It was as if you both realised your close proximity in the same moment.
You weren’t sure who went in first. But it didn’t matter. He freed your hands and they flew up into his hair as he kissed you roughly, and you kissed him back just as hard. It was heated, passionate but there was anger in there too. Pent up desire and rage, a deadly combination. You nipped roughly at his bottom lip with your teeth, and he hissed and retaliated by forcefully pulling you closer into him as the kisses became deeper and sloppier and your tongue was no longer yours but a separate force you couldn’t control. His hands made their way up your back, then moved back down across your waist, then he pulled you forwards and lifted your ass up and he squeezed fistfuls of it as he moaned into your mouth. Part of you wanted to slap him and call him a pervert but you were simply too caught up to do so. It was wrong but so right. You wanted to shun him and punish him, but you also couldn’t stay away from him. Damn him.
“You’re so annoying…” he murmured softly as he dotted kisses across your jawline.
“So are you…” you retorted as you rocked your hips against his lap and stretched to get more comfortable in the cramped car.
“I should’ve implemented a skirts-only uniform policy,” he growled as his hands explored the back of your jean-clad thighs.
“Stop talking,” you managed breathily before silencing him with another kiss.
He moved you further onto his lap again and you allowed him to. He was firm in his hold but never too rough. You leaned across him to pull the lever to recline the seat but in your urgency and ungainliness you managed to hit the horn with your backside, sending a loud tone that made both of you jump.
It seemed to snap you out of your stupor as you flung yourself back against the driver’s seat, your hands recoiling away from him like your fingers had been burnt.
“No…we gotta stop this,” you panted out as you regained your composure and smoothed down your mussed hair. The silence lay thick and heavy.
He sat back against his own seat looking a little bewildered. “Yeah…sorry. You’re right. I just…lost myself a little there,” he cleared his throat.
“You hurt me,” you told him meekly and unable to meet his gaze. “I feel really embarrassed. After we kissed…you didn’t get in touch. Then tonight you almost seemed annoyed I was there when you came in. And you spent the whole time with Amber, apart from when you got pissed at me for talking to another guy”.
You chewed your lip, mortified by your own vulnerability. But you were glad you finally said it out loud. It was the most honest thing you’d ever said to him.
You could see him nodding in your periphery. “I’m sorry, Sug,” he said quietly.
He took a deep breath. “That kiss…it did mean something to me you know”.
You finally turned to look at him, surprised by his admission. “What?”
He looked back at you. He seemed…smaller, somehow. “Of course it did,” he continued. “We both felt it, didn’t we? This thing between us. I feel a little crazy around you. You’re like this…brilliant woman. Smart and funny…makes the meanest spicy ‘marg for hundreds of miles,” he grinned.
Even you couldn’t stifle a chuckle at that.
“You also get under my skin in a way nobody else does. You make me so mad. But I can’t help being near you. And when you got hurt that night…I was so angry. Angry at myself for not protecting you. Angry at you for mouthing off and not getting help. I guess…I guess it sorta pushed me to finally make a move…and then Sam interrupted and…” he sighed “Fuck. I don’t know. I suddenly felt bad. I shouldn’t be hitting on my staff. Especially injured staff…”
“Yeah…but I wanted it too, Bucky. You know I did…”
“I know…But…I dunno, I wouldn’t want you to ever think I was taking advantage”.
You swallowed, absorbing everything he’d just told you. Yeah…that was reasonable. He was your boss after all and there was always going to be a weird power dynamic there, but you still had more questions than answers.
“Bucky…” you started quietly. “If you wanted the kiss…Why did you disappear? I didn’t hear from you…and then tonight…”
He interrupted you with a noise of frustration, but seemingly towards himself rather than you.
“Alright…look. This…well, there’s no way of spinning any of this that makes me look good here, alright? But I want to be honest with you…I’m not going to lie to you”.
You nodded, grateful for his candour but uneasy about what he might say. You stiffened but still turned to him and gave him your full attention.
“Okay…so. Like I said, I wanted the kiss. And I’m glad it happened. And I was gonna text…call…and I almost did so many times, I had your contact open on my phone and everything…but I guess…I panicked a little”.
“Panicked?”
“Yeah…I mean,” he sighed. “Because I really like you. And I’m not used to that. And on top of that, I’m your boss. And…you’re leaving town soon anyway. And…our relationship is sorta, volatile? I guess? I admit this is fucked up and chicken shit of me, but I kinda freaked out. I suppose I worried that if I jumped headfirst into something with you, it might be a mess. Or worse, I might fall hard, and it would be that much harder to see you go when the time came. I know you might think this is me taking the easy way out to give you the brush off…but it’s the truth”.
You sat in silence at his admission, eyes wide and lips parted. You were surprised at how open he was. The two of you had never really done ‘direct communication’ before…and it was eye opening to say the least. You knew deep down you agreed, you already knew that finally saying goodbye to him would be tough…you didn’t want to make it any tougher.
“I still shouldn’t have left you hanging like that. I’m sorry,” he told you with sincerity. “I’m not…good at this stuff”.
“And what about you and Amber? I mean the two of you…”
He sighed heavily, shaking his head. “Look…there is no me and Amber…”
“But-” you interrupted harshly. “I’ve seen you..”
“No. Seriously, it’s the truth,” he explained as he ran a hand through his hair. “Amber is cute. She’s fun. Again, I won’t lie to you – we’ve fooled around in the past. But I’m not interested in pursuing anything with her. She knows that, I’ve never lied to her about that. But she tries. And I do care for her. But it’s just messing around. We flirt and it’s fun, and I know it might look I lead her on, but I consistently remind her where I stand. I guess maybe she’s hoping I’ll change my mind? I don’t want to outright ban her from the bar…but she turns up…and some of the guys are involved with her friends…and I guess I’m too clumsy to give the situation the care it deserves because I don’t want to give her false hope, but I don’t want to be outright mean to her either. I know you probably think I’m just some meathead biker juggling girls, but I don’t like hurting people who don’t deserve it”.
You noted the concern in his voice. He really did seem to care about handling it right, even if he wasn’t very good at it. But you remembered the extent of tonight and rolled your eyes.
“C’mon Bucky…that’s all very well and good…but she was sitting in your damn lap this evening. So you’re not exactly taking a hard line with her….” You scowled.
“Yeah…and did you see the part where I rolled my eyes and moved her away?”
“Oh, come on…”
“It’s true! I told her to back off, but you’d disappeared…”
“Don’t insult me…”
“I’m not, it’s the truth!” He frowned. “Okay, fine, maybe I need to be stricter with her. We’ve just been doing this back and forth for so long I sometimes forget how it must look…”
“Poor little you…”
“Oh, don’t give me that. What about you, huh? Flirting and giving out your number in front of me?”
“That’s different! You were ignoring me…I thought you’d knocked me back!”
“I saw that message was from Wanda but you made out it wasn’t…I know what you were doing. You were enjoying me being jealous…And yes, obviously I was jealous, so don’t think make a whole thing of it”.
You stopped suddenly, your cheeks feeling hot as he’d caught you out in your game. “Oops. Um…okay. Fine…”
You both sat quietly until he spoke again.
“I guess both of us have played a part in this, not being upfront with the other about how we feel”.
“Yeah…” you sighed. “That’s true enough…I’m still mad, though”.
“That’s okay. I deserve it”.
He nudged you playfully and you couldn’t help but crack a smile. Damn him.
“Look…given how much drama there’s been already between us…Maybe we should just call it, put a stop to this thing and stay just friends and colleagues. Have quieter lives as a result,” you offered, unable to mask the melancholy in your voice.
He nodded. “Yeah…that probably is for the best”.
You felt sad…but you knew it was the right move. All this drama and angst and you’d only shared a few kisses. Imagine how much worse it would get? What if you’d slept together?? And he was right earlier, this whole thing did have an expiration date. You didn’t want to have to quit your job even if it was temporary. You didn’t want to leave on bad terms because you were banging your boss, or because you were insecure about who else he was banging. It all came back to the same bottom line…you didn’t need this in your life. Not now. Not with Granny’s house.
This was for the best. This was a mature decision. This was growth.
Wait.
Wait.
Why is he looking at you like that…?
What is he….oh.
Uh oh.
“Bucky…” you pleaded softly, but his mouth was already on yours.
“Just friends,” he mumbled into your mouth.
“Just friends,” you whispered against his.
Shit.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#james bucky barnes#this must be the place fic#biker!bucky#motorcycle club au bucky
48 notes
·
View notes
Text
I miss the way you say my name.
Authors note: I had this idea on my flight back home, I hope you like it!
Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Reader!
Warnings!: smut, fingering, oral (F receiving), mentions of cheating, angst. Let me know if I need to add more!
Tags!: @xxkittenkissesxx @starsomens @thisbicc @laurpartyprogram
You and Noah had broken up exactly 1 month and 8 days ago. Why you may ask? He fucked up. he had broken up with you for reasons that you didn't know why, you always thought that he wasn't ready or that you were just another girl he had then left, and him breaking up with you out of the blue almost confirmed those thoughts.
Flashback.
"Noah why? Why do you not want me anymore?" You said with hot tears rolling down your face.
"I don't know y/n I just, can't anymore. I can't keep pretending that I want this to keep going anymore."
"Well you know what noah? Fuck you. Fuck you for letting me spend 3 FUCKING YEARS OF MY LIFE with you just so you could throw it out the window like it was nothing."
"Y/N baby-" he said clearly trying to calm you down.
"Don't fucking baby me Noah you know what you're doing and its your choice. I'm fucking leaving." You said with anger coming out of you.
"Don't leave, l don't want you to hate me because of this."
"well then you failed miserably. Goodbye noah" you said standing up to leave you and Noah's shared apartment. But you felt his hand grasp your wrist to halt you from leaving.
"Y/N I need you to fucking understand that I don't want you to get mad, but I can't do this, I've been thinking and I don't think this is going to work, At. All." His words broke your heart in 2 seconds.
"What was it noah? Was it the fact that we could never spend time together because you were always so fucking 'busy' with work!?! Huh? Was it because most of the fucking time I had spent trying to help you with everything but you just chose to fucking ignore me!"
"Oh now you're gonna blame it on me working my ass off on tour and bad omens because of this!?! No, you know what Y/N fuck you. You have never appreciated what I do for you and me! All you do is complain and complain like the fucking brat you are!" When he said that you felt as if you had a different person in front of you, of course you had Noah had your fights and your arguments but he would never insult you like that. that was your last straw. So you said what would hurt him most.
"Well, its not like you ever actually loved me to begin with, so I expected this from you. I hope you find someone as fucked up as you to love you properly, because apparently I never did. Bye Noah." You knew Noah loved you he always stated that, but you knew that would break his heart, you not feeling loved by him. Gently getting out of his grasp you walked to the front door and left your home.
1 month, 8 days later...
As you lay down on your bed after running some errands in the morning all you think about is the thing you've been thinking about for the past month, constantly trying to get it out of your brain. Noah. You thought of all the love, the hate, the good, the bad that happened in the span of 3 years together, but today it wasn't just thinking about him because you miss him, you had to actually see him today, at Folio's party. He had said "you don't have to go if you don't want to especially if Noah is gonna be a problem." But you had said that you wouldn't miss it for the world and decided to face your fears of seeing Noah again.
As you got ready you fixed your hair that was in a curly blowout and looked over yourself in the mirror one last time checking if you looked good with the rock-ish style makeup you were wearing. You will admit you got a little more dressed up than usual wearing, a black mini skirt and corset set, with platform leather boots and a leather jacket for the chill that was upon the month of October. No you didn't get dressed up to make Noah jealous... ok well maybe you did but who cares anyway?
Later on...
You got to the guys house approximately 10 minutes ago, the entire time you've been sitting in your car debating wether you actually want to face Noah. You were thinking of leaving and making an excuse by saying you didn't feel well to folio, well that was until he knocked on your car window. You rolled it down to reveal folio and his sheepish smile.
"Hiiiii Y/N, are you coming in anytime soon?" He said while hanging on to the car.
"Uh yeah sorry I was uh lost in thought." You said trying to make up an excuse.
You and folio walked up to the house and went inside, you saw the familiar place and you started to get a feeling of regret deep in your mind, but you also remembered all the beautiful memories you had made with the guys here.
"Y/N! Long time no fucking see huh?" You heard the stupid ass voice of Matt say. "Oh shit, hi Matt haven't seen you in a while."
"Yeah I hope we can hang out more these next couple of weeks before we go on tour!" He said, you didn't know Bad Omens were going on tour at all. But you guessed since you're not really apart of their lives anymore they wouldn't tell you.
"Oh! You guys are going on tour?"
"yeah! I thought you would've seen it on social media by now, sorry I didn't tell you." Matt said.
"No problem! Its just unexpected, you know."
You had a nice conversation with most of the guys and caught up on things you'd missed this past month everything was great, that was until the part you most dreaded of the night happened. Seeing Noah. He had came up to one of the guys and when he saw you he mirrored your position and froze, no saying anything, no moving, until he muttered a quick "hi Y/N." all you could say was "hi ba- noah. Sorry." He looked good, in his stupid shorts with the dumb white tank top you used to take off of him. you quietly cursed yourself for not having a drink before doing this so you wouldn't feel the heat that rushed into your core when you saw him lick his lips and rub his neck, so you decided to opt for the best option, leaving the party. You quickly turned to the guys to tell them "Uh I gotta go thank you guys for inviting me here, I'll see you all soon." You felt Matt gently grab your wrist and ask you "are you okay? You've only been here for 30 minutes." You tried to come up with a quick response. "Yeah I'm fine. I just gotta wake up early tomorrow, got a lot to do." You hoped this would suffice for an excuse. Fortunately it did, you managed to say your goodbyes and go to leave the house, well you thought it was great and fun until Noah ran up to you.
"Y/N!" He called after you.
"Yeah Noah?"
"Can we talk? In private?" You didn't know whether to run away or face it and actually clear things up with him.
"Um, Yeah sure" you said nodding slightly. "Um well we can go to my room, to have privacy." You felt slightly nervous as you were walking up the stairs to his room, when you walked in you thought you would feel weird since he had moved out after breaking up with you, but actually felt a sense of warmth and comfort. He motioned for you to take a seat on the bed, so you did next to him.
"Look Y/N I'm not gonna make small talk, I want to explain everything that had happened. The warm and comfort was gone, now I was just fucking overloading with nerves.
"Go ahead."
"Um okay well. The night that I had broken up with you wasn't because I didn't want to be with you, I had fucked up, big time." I knew what he was gonna say next "I miss you, I was so wrong to let you go." I wasn't gonna hear him if thats what's he was gonna say so I just said. "Look Noah if you are gonna say you miss me and want to get back together its not gonna work, I don't know why I'm wasting my time." I tried to stand up but I got pushed back down by Noah.
"Y/N can you fucking hear me out for once, please?"
"fine."
"as I was saying, I didn't break up with you because I wanted to, I broke up with you because I felt guilty."
"and by that you mean??"
"you remember that before we broke up we had gone to a bar with the guys when we were on the trip in New York three days prior?"
"Yeah I remember that, that's when you started getting distant from me."
"Um well, that day I had um, cheated on you. But not for the reasons that you think." I froze I felt like my body was alive but my soul was completely dead. Noah had cheated on me? I had to keep my cool.
"What. The. Fuck. Do you mean?"
"Let me explain. I was drunk and there was this girl, and she looked like you in my drunk eyes tiny tattoos and everything and I'm guessing she was also off the rails because she was flirting with me and she had kissed me at the bar. And you remember I disappeared for like 10 minutes? I was- I was with her in the bathroom." He said full of guilt and regret. The tears that were hidden when I heard him first talk, turned into hot fat tears running down my face as I tried to process what was going on.
"You- i- Noah why did you tell me that same day?" I said sniffling and wiping my tears. I hadn't been looking at him this entire time but when I turn, I see him biting his bottom lip with tears rolling down his cheeks as he looked at the floor.
"I was disappointed in myself and I thought that what would be best fro us was me breaking up with you. I was wrong so fucking wrong. The um, the next day me and the girl apologized to each other and she had said that she didn't know what she was doing and she wanted to apologize to you but I didn't let her.
"How the hell did you find her??"
I felt all of my emotions crash into each other and I was confused, mad, sad, but I also felt a little hope for whatever reason.
"She was staying in the same hotel as us, I ran in to her in the lobby."
"So now what? That's it, that's all you wanted to tell me?" I said wanting to desperately leave soon.
"No. Y/N I wanted to apologize and I wanted to say I fucking love you with all of my heart and soul, I would die for you. But now I fucked it up, all of this was my fault." I don't know why, but I felt bad, I knew Noah would never tolerate cheating especially because he's been cheated on many times before, but I don't know if I could forgive him.
"Noah, at this point it doesn't really matter. You fucked up. I had fucked up by not listening to you, and its over, we don't hate each other we can still be friendly but I don't really think that right now is the best moment. I thought he would understand until next thing I now he's on his knees, face buried into my chest, crying.
"Noah? Noah come here." I pulled him into me to hug him even though I should probably be the one crying, I know he's been keeping this in for a long time. He pulled away and muttered a quiet "thank you" I looked him in the eye desperately wanting to curse him out, but at the same time my body- no, my soul ached for his love and touch. As we were looking at each other lost in our eyes I just said to him.
"Noah i don't care if I regret what I'm about to do, fuck it." I crashed my lips on to his in a passionate way, tangling my hands with his short soft hair. It started as a sweet and innocent kiss, then turned into a heated hungry kiss. I lifted myself to go on his lap, and when I felt his hard, I started to grind on him without thinking.
"Fuck princess, are you sure?" Of course hearing his old pet name made you go fucking wild.
"I'm more than sure handsome."
He turned us around and started peppering kisses down my jaw, neck, and chest. I started whining which he knew was a sign that I wanted needed more.
"Angel, right now, I'm gonna worship you like you're my goddess, like your my muse. Because you're my fucking everything" he said while going to take off your skirt and corset. Once he saw that you were wearing his favorite lace set underneath his eyes went black with lust and desire for you. He took his shirt off and went down to kiss my thighs.
"Noah- fuck, more, I need mo-"
"Shhh princess, don't worry I'm gonna take care of you. So. Well."
He had been smothering me in kisses for five minutes straight. I thought it was going to keep going until I felt his finger rub the damp spot on my panties, "Fuck noah" I breathed out. His finger slowly rubbed lazy circles on the same spot until he took off my panties off and went right in, he started with giving me soft kisses at first he was being gentle, then he started sucking and licking harder, and faster, I felt like I would cum three times just because of this and he wasn't even doing much yet, and yet the first time I came on his tongue was because of that.
"Baby do you want more? You want to come on my tongue again?"
"uh huh, please noah."
"such good manners princess."
Just him saying that, made me go absolutely feral. He slipped a finger inside of me without warning, spelling his name with his tongue on me marking me as his forever, just like he promised.
"Noah, fuck, I need m- more" I said desperately wanting to be badly to body, deeply connected to him in all different forms.
"More of what angel?" He said while still pumping his finger in and out of me.
"I need you Noah, only you- Ahhhh" I felt the euphoric feeling wash over me in the moment I hit my second climax, my fingers gripped the bed sheets and my back arched as I bit my lip to the point where there was a little blood, to then which Noah licked off when he came back up and kissed me gently, I could taste myself on his lips. It felt as I was in heaven in this moment and Noah was angel, but it also felt as if this was the worst sin that I would commit, but if it was, I would sin for the rest of my life with him.
"Ahh noah?"
"yes princess?"
"I. Need. Your. Cock." I asked, I knew I sounded needy but I didn't give a fuck in the moment.
"Doll, you forgot the magic word"
"I need your cock, please Noah."
"Of course baby." He stood from the mattress and took of his shirt, then his shorts and boxers all in one, when I saw his dick I wanted to fucking jump this man, I don't know what came over me but I forgot the need to feel him inside of me and I just got on my knees on the floor and start lightly stroking him.
"Oh fuck baby what are you doing?" He asked while throwing his head back. "Giving you a little gift" I took the head of his cock in my mouth, and I started peppering kisses at first just like he did to me, then I took him entirely in my mouth, usually I would work up to it but I just needed to taste him. I bobbed my head up and down his cock, while taking with my hands what I couldn't take in my mouth. He started grabbing my head and guiding me to where he wanted me most. A sign that he was gong to release soon.
"Oh fuck- im, I'm gonna cum babe." He said, his voice a low growl. "I know baby, you can cum for me." Right as I said that he came all over my tongue and after I swallowed it I showed him my tongue so he could see. I stood up from the ground and lightly kissed him.
Later.
We cleaned up and got our clothes back on and shared a romantic kiss. *Knock knock* "Who is it?" Noah called.
"its Nicholas."
"come in" the door opened to reveal Nicholas, he looked confused on how and why you were still here.
"Y/N? I thought you had left an hour ago."
"oh uh no, me and Noah were catching up and talking but, I'm about to leave."
"ok... Well, Noah I was gonna ask if you wanted pizza since its like 11:30."
"Yeah sure man." Nicholas gave a nod and said bye to you. Noah looked at you in relief that you guys weren't caught earlier.
"Sooo." You said awkwardly. "sooo." Noah mirrored.
"You wanna get sushi with me tomorrow?" Of fucking course that's the first thing he says.
You lightly chuckled and said, "sure ba-Noah. Fuck sorry I keep saying that" you said while your cheeks flushed red.
"You don't have to apologize Y/N. Look just in warning, I'm gonna try till the day I die to get you back, but I know you won't forgive me right away, with all of my soul I'm going to make it feel like we're falling in love again. Just like the day I first laid my eyes on you." He said when he placed his hand on your thigh.
"Noah, you're already winning me back, because I will always be stupidly in love with you." You kissed him right after you said that seeing hope and love sparkle in his eyes. You didn't care how much time it took you wanted to spend eternity with Noah and even then, it wouldn't be enough. You would go through good and bad in your lives, but you would go through it together.
Forever.
AHHHHH!!!
I hope you guys liked it!
so I have some news! If you guys like this little one-shot I will start taking requests for one-shots, headcanons and blurbs every friday!! So if you like it then you can send in requests anyway and I will post different ones on Friday's!!!
-Evelyn❤
#bad omens#noah sebastian#bad omens cult#bad omens band#heavy metal#bad omens fanfiction#noahsebastian#badomens#noah sebastian x reader#fan fiction
45 notes
·
View notes
Note
i didn't know who else to call. you're all i've got right now.
i can't keep doing this.
Cassie Howard
i didn't know who else to call. you're all i've got right now.
i can't keep doing this.
Pronouns: They/Them/Theirs, GN!Reader
A shout of victory left you and you pumped your fist up into the air, a string of giggles following when you heard Ethan groan loudly as Link came in 5th place. He sighed heavily and rolled his eyes as you bumped his shoulder with a smug smirk, the scoreboard placing you and Rosalina in 1st place. "Go ahead and place the order, Daley. Remember-"
"Pepproni and bacon, yeah, I know." Ethan set his controller aside and used the couch behind him to stand up, reaching down to pick up his Dorito bag from the floor before approaching the end table by the couch where the phones were charging. "Oh, hey, you've got like... two missed calls."
"Shit, is it my mom?" You perked up immediately, tossing the controller onto the couch and stumbling up onto your feet. Ethan shook his head and scooped your phone into his hand, raising it close to his face before the color on the screen changed and it vibrated.
"Uh, 'C.H.'? Who's that?" Ethan raised his head to look at you, brows knitted together and his hand stretched toward you to offer the phone. "Why don't you just put their name and picture instead of some initials?"
"It's, uhm, the new guy at work." What the fuck did Cassie Howard want? You clutched the phone tightly in your hand, maneuvering around the pillows scattered on the ground.
"Why's he calling you at-" Ethan turned his phone on. "-almost eleven pm?"
"I don't know, dude. Maybe he got the night shift or something. I'm- I'm just gonna check, alright? You go through with our deal while I'll take this." You told him, slipping down the hall and into the nearest bathroom before fumbling for the light switch as you finally answered and held the phone up to your ear. The light flickered on and you nudged the door shut with your phone, your ear picking up the sniffling on the other end. Jesus.
"(Y/N)? Oh, my god, finally. I sent like twenty texts and- and I..." Cassie sniffled again, her voice sounding hoarse. You rubbed the bridge of your nose and inhaled deeply because who else would interrupt your night if not Cassie and her drama?
"What is it, Cass? I'm a little busy right now."
"I-I need you to pick me up. Rue came by like, I don't know, two days ago and she told Maddy about me and Nate and- and now Lexi and Mom barely speak to me and nobody answers my calls. Everyone's ignoring me and they're acting like I'm a bad person. I can't be here right now. I didn't know who else to call. You're all I've got right now. I need you, please."
"That's hella depressing, Cass. You need more friends." You sighed. "And Nate? Why can't he pick you up?"
"He's ignoring me!" Cassie almost wailed, her sniffling mixing with hiccups and sobs. The soft rustling on the other end told you she'd likely taken to hiding under the covers to cry all day and it almost made you feel pity for her. If only she hadn't gotten herself into the mess by messing around with her best friend's ex-boyfriend, then maybe you'd actually feel bad. "Please, please, (Y/N). I'm- I'm home right now. I can pack a bag and- and I can- I can wait for you. I just... I need someone right now."
"Christ, fine, fine. I... I'll pick you up but you can't stay at my place for over two days, Cass. My parents will start asking questions and if people find out you're staying with me it'll cause problems. I'll talk to Nate, alright? If not him, I'll see if Aunt Marsha talks some sense into him. But... Cass, I can't keep doing this. I can't keep picking up after you and solving shit for you, alright? It's fun messing around but... I'm tired. After this, you and I are just friends, okay? I'll be there soon."
#x reader#x you#x y/n#x male reader#x female reader#x gender neutral reader#euphoria#euphoria x male reader#euphoria x reader#euphoria x you#euphoria x y/n#cassie howard#cassie howard x reader#cassie howard x male reader#cassie howard x you#cassie howard x y/n#cassie howard x gender neutral reader#euphoria x gender neutral reader#euphoria x female reader#cassie howard x female reader#ethan daley
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m Really Sorry About The Whole ‘Crush On My Alter Ego’ Thing, But We Could Still Totally Make This Work
Grian woke up early to a harsh alarm as he had every day since Scar’s.. confession..
The sun hadn’t even risen yet, but it probably would in an hour or two, so Grian wasted no time getting right on his morning routine. Which is to say. Doom scrolling for at least an hour before actually getting up. Though before choosing one of many social media platforms to waste his time with, he checked his texts, expecting to find a meme or work schedule change from Cub, and instead:
Good morning sunshine👊👊👊👊👊!!! ❤️ Time to get ready for another day of stopping crime and KICKING ASS👉👊👊‼️⚡️⚡️⭐️✨✨💥💥💥💥 I would say I hope you slept well.. but I KNOW you did and that your going to have a certifiably SLAY DAY⭐️💥⭐️💥⚡️⚡️⚡️ I just wanted YOU to know that your killing it (👊👊👊👊👊👊) and you’re awesome and very cute😳 like cUtEgUy you know and everyone loves you❗️❗️❗️❗️❗️Me included!! Can’t wait to see you today🫵🫵👊👊🫡💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥 *dhoots arrow* HOTGUY
It went on for quite a bit longer, but Grian had seen enough actually, and consequently was no longer inclined to stay awake. This would be a problem for future Grian.
Future Grian was not very happy with past Grian when he woke up a few hours later, stumbling in his disoriented state to the kitchenette for coffee. Cub was at the kitchen table scrolling through his phone, and once Grian had the presence of mind to interrogate him, he pulled up the text, shoving his phone in Cub’s face.
“What is this. Did you have something to do with this? Did you write this for him? That’s probably something you’d do. What’s your prerogative here?”
Cub took a long moment to read, a small smile creeping across his face before outright laughing, “Oh, this is great.” Cub gently took Grian’s phone to keep reading, adjusting his glasses, “It just keeps going. How long do you think he spent typing this?”
“I don’t know! I don’t care! What the hell am I supposed to do? Why is he even texting me in the first place?”
“I’m failing to see how this is a big deal. He’s probably just sorry about the Micah thing and this is how he’s chosen to express that. Oh- here. ‘You don’t have to worry about seeing Micah again because I killed him. He’s gone.-‘ several explosions emojis ‘-I also tried to kill HotGuy but when I brought it up to one of my buddies who’s in with the higher ups he said No No Definitely Not Do Not Bring This Up To Anyone Else Ever For Your Own Safety so I’m feeling a little bit more insecure about my place in the world but that’s okay! I mean I know my life has always been in the hands of government doctors but I didn’t actually think through those implications until right now. You know me though, I’ll just keep doing my best! HaHa!’ Oh god. That’s a lot more text with very few emojis. Do these things not have character limits? I don’t think he’s okay actually. This just keeps going.”
“The- Okay, how am I supposed to be upset at him after you just read all that out to me? This is not fair. Can we just put that aside for later because how the fuck am I supposed to look at Scar in even remotely the same way after Micah- You can not possibly understand, Cub, I told Micah everything. We like- connected! And it was just fucking HotGuy the whole time! The guy I can’t fucking stand!”
“Out of costume I think he prefers you just call him Scar.”
“Okay. Sure. Fine. Scar fucked my brain! How can he even expect me to look at him the same way! He just let me think for all that time he was a different guy! Do you know how crazy that is? He talked shit ABOUT HIMSELF constantly! He tricked me!” Still, after a whole week to think about it, Grian couldn’t make sense of that. That he had met someone, made a real connection with a real person, but he hadn’t, not actually, because all of it was a facade. It was just Scar. But it didn’t feel like just Scar- it felt like Micah. Micah, who was just an act. Micah who he’d never see again. And maybe that hurt the most. That he’d lost someone like that. That he’d lost a friend. Someone who he thought might be able to be more than a friend.
“If it helps I think he has serious enough issues with his identity that he was not just ‘Scar but playing a character.’ Micah was a different person to him, I think.”
“Yeah.” Grian’s shoulders sagged, the idea not much of a comfort, “That. I got some idea of that. He was asking me a lot of questions about alter egos when-“ Grian cut himself off to groan loudly, “This is so stupid. This is so stupid. He needs to go directly to therapy for weeks at a time so I don’t have to see him for at least another month.”
Cub shrugged, “Maybe it would be good for you to see him. Maybe you should go in today.”
“How would this help me.” Grian glared, but Cub wasn’t looking up, still reading-
“I don’t know,” Cub said, setting Grian’s phone down on the table to return his focus to his own coffee, “I just kinda want you to.”
“Seriously.”
“I do. You’ve both been a bit of a wreck all week, maybe this’ll clear the air. And unless you plan on never speaking to Scar again, which is not practical for your work or your home life, you’re going to have to tear the bandaid off at some point. If he wants to apologize, you should let him say what he has to say at the very least. You don’t have to forgive him.”
“You- Are you in on this? I think you’re in on this.”
“I didn’t know about the text. Honestly, the majority of that message comes off as very.. in the moment. I don’t think that was planned. But he has a plan. No idea what. He wouldn’t tell me. It’ll probably be funny though.”
“So do you want this to fix me or do you want to laugh at me?”
Cub waved a hand dismissively, not looking up from his coffee. “I want to laugh at Scar.”
“Great.”
“You should go to work though.”
“I know your motives, Cub.”
Cub only shrugged. “Yeah, but I’m also just curious. I want to know what he does. Don’t you? Wouldn’t it be sad if he planned some sort of big I’m Sorry event for you and you never showed?”
“This is extremely appealing to me.”
“But then you’ll never know what it was. Or if it even happened at all.”
“Scar will text you.”
“He might not.”
Grian scoffed. “If you want to see what Scar has done so badly then you can go and see it for yourself.”
“You think security would let me in?” Cub looked a bit too excited by that idea, the kind of expression that crossed his face holding Great Intention. Always a terrifying look on Cub, and definitely not something to be encouraged lest he get himself arrested.
“I don’t know. Probably not.”
Cub deflated (a great relief), but didn’t budge on his prior sentiment. “You should go.” Grian rolled his eyes.
“Well I am going, I want to go, but I'm not trying to see any of Scar. If he wants to talk to me he can chase me down. I’m not playing into anything he has planned.”
“Oh,” Cub blinked, then looked back at his phone, “Great. My job’s done then.”
“You are in on this!”
“I maintain my innocence. Hope it’s a good day though.”
“It won’t be.”
“If you say so.”
Grian rolled his eyes, taking his coffee off the maker and heading back to his room. He dressed in his underclothes, grabbed his bag, then headed out with a passing goodbye. Cub’s focus was elsewhere anyway, getting ready for his own work. One day Cub would be able to quit that damn job. Now that Grian had he means, he was going to make sure of it.
…
With the ample warning, Grian made sure to steer completely clear of his and Scar’s offices. He intended on lingering here as little as possible, only dropping in to change and collect a radio.
Apparently Scar had anticipated this.
“Well hello there!”
Grian didn’t catch more than a glance of him before slamming the public office door closed, but had to open it again seconds later because what the fuck was Scar wearing.
Scar had laid himself out over the center desk, dressed head to toe in the most garishly abhorrent green crop top, booty shorts, and sparkly jewelry Grian had ever seen all on top of his uniform. ‘IM SORRY’ was written across the chest in neon pink fabric marker chicken scratch, a miserable failure at matching CuteGuy’s colors. The entire outfit clashed so horribly that Grian couldn’t help but stare, for a moment too long apparently because Scar took this as an invitation to continue speaking.
“CuteGuy! I had a rose for you, but you took your sweet ass time getting here and I got bored, so I ate it instead. You know how there’s rose flavored candy and shit? Does not taste like the flower. Would not recommend. Actually!” Scar rolled over onto his stomach, kicking his legs, and Grian choked on a snort when he saw the text across Scar’s ass said ‘WHORE.’ “I was trying to spit it out, you know, and I’m pretty sure my saliva is purple now. It turned my water purple. I might have poisoned myself.”
Grian found himself stuck between bafflement and a laugh, but he refused to show Scar he was any amount amused by this display, his voice stilted in suppression when he finally spoke. “Give me. A radio.”
“Sure thing!” Scar plucked one off the dock, spinning it in his fingers before tossing it across the room. Grian caught it, turning on his heel to leave. “Hey! Where are you going?”
Grian didn’t feel the need to answer, shutting the door behind himself as he went, but it wasn’t long because he heard the tip-taps of Scar’s boots behind him, not running, but certainly trying his best to catch up.
“Did you see my message this morning?”
“I saw it.”
“Did you see the part where I asked to take you to lunch?”
“No.”
“Do you want to go to lunch then? Later, obviously. You don’t even have to go with me!”
Grian scoffed through a chuckle, rolling his eyes. Ridiculous. “No thanks.”
“I thought so. That’s okay! Maybe another time! I’m going to go now, but it was nice to see you, CuteGuy!”
Grian frowned, not responding or turning around. If Scar wanted to dress like an idiot, that was his prerogative. Grian wasn’t going to be the one to stop him. He had actual work to be doing.
…
Grian liked how often he got to fly in this line of work. CuteGuy the villain didn’t fly anywhere; he laid low, he scouted the streets from roofs of buildings, he stuck to the shadows. ‘Grian’ didn’t fly much either, not without a reason. Sometimes he’d fly just like anyone would go for a walk, but he liked doing something, he liked having places to go. As much as he loathed superhero culture- and the whole damn city for that matter- he loved this.
It wasn’t unusual for a crowd to gather at the scene of a fight or crime, but maybe Grian should have known that a crowd this large, this dense, was a red flag. It had been a couple hours since he’d set off into the city, so his guard was down, he was in the zone. He had just assumed someone was hurt. That people were trying to help or panicking. Clearing the crowd revealed otherwise.
Scar was laying on the sidewalk, still wearing his clashing clothes, signing a book from a fan before shooing them away while looking distinctly like the two of them were in on some sort of inside joke. He.. didn’t have his legs.
“CuteGuy!” Scar swooned, drawing a gloved hand across his forehead, “I have fallen and I can not get up! I need a handsome and capable superhero to assist me!”
Grian cringed, but despite the majority of people having backed up, no one seemed to actually have left, encircling the both of them in a tight barrier. Scar knew plenty well how their fans felt about the two of them, (Grian had stumbled upon some.. choice pieces of fanart before) and he’d never miss an opportunity to tease under the scrutiny of eager eyes. Though, there was something beautifully normal about that; the teasing, the invitation of banter. The kind of normalcy you long for, even when things aren’t well. (Even when Micah was never real, even after you lost a friend.)
“You’re plenty capable. This is a severe waste of my time.” Grian flapped his wings, not intending on leaving, just needing more space from the onlookers.
Scar watched him carefully, delight dancing across his face when he realized that Grian was going to stay. “Well of course, of course, but going all that distance walking on my hands? No no, I don’t think so! I don’t even want to think about the kinds of calluses I’d get! And it would take hours.”
“Serves you right. Did you make sure that call only wired to me?” Grian huffed, making a grand show of his annoyance since Scar couldn’t see the roll of his eyes. And.. well.. he couldn’t quite help himself with the crowd. Everyone gets a kick out of dramatics sometimes. “Where’d your legs run off to anyway?”
“Oh! Funny story! The Goat took them.”
“You paid him to do that?”
“That would have been a really good idea! But no. He just happened to see me, and after laughing at me for like ten minutes he said ‘iF yOu aRen’t uSinG thEsE tHen I wiLL’ like he does, you know him. It was a little ominous actually. I’m a bit worried. My doctors are going to be pissed when they find out, so personally, I would rather be delivering this news with legs in hand.”
“Oh my god.”
“Yeah. It’s not ideal. If it wasn’t already clear, I’m going to need help getting them back.”
“I hope you know how unbelievably a ‘you problem’ this is because I am not helping. Good luck hunting him down. First I’d recommend calling someone to bring you your chair.”
“No!” Scar jolted upright, proving just how capable he was of not laying pathetically on the concrete, “I want you! Look, look at me. Listen. Close your eyes.”
Grian made a face, scoffing to hide the hint of amusement that was threatening to show in his expression. “Do you want me to look at you or do you want me to close my eyes.”
“Listen. Imagine. HotGuy and CuteGuy: Dynamic Duo-!”
“This sounds awful.”
“-I’m up on your shoulders, we’re infiltrating The Goat’s home base together! You’re punching bad guys and I’m shooting my bow from above-“
“And how do you think you’re going to hang on, huh?” Grian interrupted, tapping his foot.
“Obviously I’d-“ Scar moved, seeming to realize too late he didn’t have the legs he was planning on using. This did not deter him, a sharp smirk splitting his smile, “Velcro!”
Grian snorted despite himself, “Yeah. That’d be perfect, wouldn’t it. I foresee zero issues.” With a great irritation that gripped him out of nowhere, Grian was suddenly aware of other voices, the crowd, speaking loudly amongst themselves. Someone started to chant his name. Another chanted ‘Velcro!’ That caught on much faster. Grian flapped his wings far more aggressively when the crowd began to close in, hitting civilians out of his personal bubble, but this didn’t seem to be very effective, anxiety crawling under his skin as the attention started to be too much. Scar seemed to notice, but despite his efforts to control the onlookers, they were too rowdy, too caught up in their excitement to listen.
“Goodbye.” Grian hissed, straining to be heard, and Scar half-shrugged, a possible attempt at apology.
“So that’s a no, then? You’ll fetch my legs at least, will you?”
“No.” Grian beat his wings hard, forcing civilians out of his way and prepping to take off.
“Oh! Okay! Have a nice day then!”
Grian was gone before he could hear another word, before any other body could brush the backs of his wings. Anger painfully out of proportion boiled in his stomach, spilling out and staining the rest of his insides in its pulsing fire. He wasn’t angry at Scar. Well. He could certainly blame Scar, luring him around and speaking like that, stoking the fire of fans who adored the both of them, but Grian hadn’t minded the show, he hadn’t even cared all too much that he’d been tricked, not when the resulting interaction felt so.. normal. He liked an act. He liked being CuteGuy. So why was he so upset? And maybe that was it. He was just angry for no reason, and that made him angrier, because despite everything, despite trying so damn hard, he was still broken.
He could punch someone about it. He wanted to punch someone about it. Cub wouldn’t want him to.
So he flew instead. Flew like he liked, fast and far and high until the air was too thin, then let himself fall, playing games with his life as he hurtled through the sky before catching himself under spread wings and doing all of it over again. Eventually he got tired. Eventually he had to stop. But the aftermath of a senseless episode still buzzed under his skin, nearly as unpleasant as the burn that caused it. Grian could feel it. He could feel it under his skin. He wanted to tear it out. He wanted to fly, exhaust himself until he couldn’t feel anything at all, but he was too tired, so instead he found himself gliding to Cub’s workplace. He didn’t know where else to go.
“CuteGuy-“ Cub’s manager was frightened by his sudden entrance, stumbling through the front door aggressively enough to rattle the attached bell into senseless noise.
“Hello Diane.”
“How do-“ but Grian cut her off with a frustrated groan, not caring to listen as he dragged himself to the back. Cub looked even more startled to see him than his manager did, though surprise quickly melted into concern when Grian collapsed into a pile of cardboard boxes. He grunted. They were not as soft as they looked.
“Ah CuteGuy, friend of HotGuy who I am friends with and know for this reason- it’s fine Diane, it’s fine, let me just- I can handle it.” Grian heard the soft arguing from the doorway, but didn’t care to say anything. He didn’t care to think. He just wanted to be better.
Eventually the door closed.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Cub’s hand flew to his shoulder and Grian viscerally cringed, lips parting in silent discomfort until the hand was swiftly drawn back, “I’m sorry. Do you need me to call an ambulance? Are you okay? You’re not okay.”
“I’m not hurt,” Grian mumbled, narrowing his eyes against Cub’s panicked expression in his peripherie. “Angry. Stupid.”
Cub jolted in his recognition, gears shifting immediately. “Scar, then. Was it Scar? I mean, I can’t say I haven’t been keeping tabs on the news- social media, the like. I’ve seen more than a few videos- people are going kinda nuts over nothing in my opinion but- It was too much. I’ll tell Scar to stop bugging you, he’ll stop.”
“It’s not Scar. I don’t care about Scar.”
Cub made a bit of a face, enough for Grian to tell he wasn’t so sure about that, but Cub didn’t voice the thought, instead asking, “What happened?”
“Nothing happened. Nothing.”
“Is- I’m struggling a little with the tone, man.”
“I don’t know! I was fine, I was kinda having fun and then I just wasn’t and out of nowhere everything just sucked and I was so mad and that’s not supposed to happen to me! Nothing happened and I wanted to rip out my hair and punch things and I didn’t, but now I just feel stupid! Why is my brain so fucking dumb.”
Grian let his head drop, face down in a pile of cardboard, but Cub didn’t move, intense in his silence. Eventually he sat down, right on the floor. “I need to break these down anyway,” he hummed, almost subconsciously as he leaned to grab something off his desk. The next couple minutes were filled with the sound of a boxcutter against tape and cardboard. It wasn’t awful.
“Do you want to know what I think?” Cub asked, not much more than a whisper. Not like he was sad or anything either, just focused on the task at hand.
“Okay,” Grian mumbled, the word coming out entirely indecipherable as anything but a noise of assent.
“I think you were nervous this morning. I think maybe you had an alright day, but got overwhelmed near the end. You can be having a good time and still get overwhelmed. There were a lot of people around you from what I could tell; it looked kinda claustrophobic.”
“But I didn’t- I didn’t care. It was like a switch in my brain just flipped! No build up!”
“Sometimes that’s how it happens. Sometimes there is build up and you just don’t notice until it’s too late. It’s not always so simply defined. There’s not always a reason. And there doesn’t have to be. You’re not regressing because you had a bad day, Grian. You’re not stupid.”
“I feel awful.”
Out of the corner of Grian’s eye, he saw Cub nod. “Yeah. I get it.” Cub continued with the boxes and Grian didn’t speak, only shuffling a little to grant easier access to the few he was laying on. But Cub stopped almost abruptly after breaking down one box, the room blanketed in a meaningful silence. “Have I told you yet? How damn proud of you I am?”
The question jolted Grian out of his daze. He didn’t know what to say. How to respond. “I haven’t done anything.”
“Of course you have. You’ve been dealt a pretty shitty hand of cards, but you haven’t stopped working with them. You haven’t given up. And you have your moments, you have bad weeks, bad months, but you still pick yourself back up at the end of today. I think you’ve grown. I don’t think Grian from a couple months ago would have walked away from the crowd and taken his anger somewhere better. I don’t think Grian from a couple months ago would have come to me. I respect you, Grian. You’ve come so damn far. I’m proud of you.”
Grian shook his head. “I haven’t done anything. It’s all you. I don’t pick myself up at all, you’re just pushing me back on my feet.”
“I haven’t known a single person that overcomes any of these kinds of challenges without support. That doesn’t make you any less capable, Grian. You’re still standing on your own two feet. I am proud of you.”
Discomfort burned in Grian’s chest. Cub didn’t get it. He didn’t understand. “It’s all for you. I’m only here because of you.”
“Having a strong motivator doesn’t discount all the hard work you’ve put in for yourself. You want to be better, Grian. You give your blood, sweat, and tears to make it happen. I’m not just dragging you along. You go to therapy and work your ass off. You keep track of your meds. You make the decision to walk away when all of you wants to haul off and kick someone’s shit in. You do it. You. And maybe most impressively, every time you fail, get arrested, relapse into old behavior, you peel yourself right off the concrete and try again. And there’s nothing harder than that. So that’s why I’m proud. That’s why I will always be proud. You’re a good man, Grian. You’re good.”
Grian didn’t know what to do with that. A soft chill rippled through his form, shaking him in his entirety despite its gentle nature. All of him felt so heavy. His lungs were full of lead.
“Can I have a hug?” A meek question, but he didn’t care.
“Of course.”
Cub’s touch sent another wave of coolness riding through his veins, contracting his muscles, making him sick and heavy and limp. And then, slowly, a steady march that began in his chest and spread outward; warmth. A soft, perfect warmth. The kind of love that could make anyone believe they were something to be proud of.
#hermitcraft#gtws#goodtimeswithscar#hotguy#grian#cuteguy#cubfan135#scarian#desert duo#convex#convexian#hermitshipping#hermitfic
46 notes
·
View notes
Note
what are some Fox tropes and headcanons that you like 👀 or anything else that you wanna ramble about him!
Okay!!! I am finally back at my laptop and able to give this question the proper answer it deserves!
STRAP IN KIDS WE'RE GOING FOR A RIDE!!!
HEADCANONS/TROPES
Let's be honest, considering we get about five minutes of him in the animated series and very little extra information outside of it, most of the characterisation of Fox is based on headcanon/fanon tropes. There are a few I am very particularly fond of to say the least! These aren't in any particular order, and at all times can be intermixed/left out etc etc...
The Corries are systematically abused by the Senate/the Chancellor - I won't lie, I'm a sucker for this. The Corries are strange in the show for a few reasons: no known assigned Jedi, several Commanders instead of one, non-officers appear to have the same paint job, and their remit appears to be very different to the rest of the GAR. I'm going to fail miserably at this list thing, because I already want to go off on multiple tangents that are headcanons of their own, BUT! I'm going to highlight the lack of individuality - Fics where this is described as being due to the need to protect troopers from being decommissioned/reconditioned/being singled out by Senators for numerous other nefarious reasons are like crack to me. I will drink that shit like water. It feeds into my loving Fox being a problem solver who works damn hard and damn cleverly to protect his people. The Senate abuse the guard through so many ways - dehumanisation of them being the overarching feature that makes it so easy to treat them like objects, toys for their amusement. Give me a good fic where fox paints himself like a target to take the abuse from the rest. Thorn and the other Commanders refuse to let him go it alone. They are the bulwark against the abuse reaching the rest of the guard.
Thorn painted their armour the opposite to Fox's on purpose. Yeeeeah, this is a little bit of a shippy thing. Won't lie! Not entirely; I do love the idea that thorn does it so they're clearly the highest ranking and can be targetted easily. But I'm also a complete sucker for Fox/Thorn, especially Thorn being devoted to Fox and putting him back together when it all gets too much.
Fox has scars, grey hair, and slightly more golden-brown eyes - Personal preference on the eyes thing. I just think it makes him more Fox-like. I swing between him being named Fox due to his slyness, and because of his eyes. Never written it though weirdly! Scars - heavily predicated by the Guard being abused thing. Typically I picture him with a scar through his right eyebrow (see my pfp and The Ballad), though I am very fond of the scar across the bridge of the nose look. I also, fooking love Fox having Lichtenberg scars, possibly weirdly raised and brutal-looking, due to the fact they've been caused by Sith lightning... Palp's is a bad bad man! The grey hair I headcanon being an indication of the stress his mind has been put under by Sithly intrustion/manipulation. As well as just pure fucking exhaustion.
Fox loves caff! I love coffee and exist in a constant state of fatigue. The man gets to feel both my pain and my nectar of life. Typically he has it black with no sugar, but largely because the Guard don't get frivolous things like milk and sugar! (Secretly he loves it with just one spoon of sugar and a touch of cream. Bail made it that way for him once and he nearly cried. He's been chasing that flavour ever since)
Fox loves his Guard. So much. He will do anything to keep them safe. Half of his exhaustion is caused by him taking as much onto himself as he can, including, but not limited to, the abuses of the Chancellor and other Senators. He's a professional, and it takes some convincing/manipulation/Thorn just bullying him into it, but he does love being surrounded by his Vode in a massive pile of warmth and love somewhere.
The Guard love Fox. They see and know what he does for them. They bring him little gifts and leave ration bars and the other Commanders quietly race through datawork and do their best to take what work they can from him. In stories where the GAR become hostile towards the Guard, Fox's troopers will defend him to the end. (I'm actually not fond of the GAR turning against the Guard in my own headcanon! I read and enjoy it for the angst/whump, but oftentimes I prefer any separation to be more because of Sithly intervention/simple war making communication hard).
Eldritch Fox is fucking excellent by the way. There's a set of fics called Corrie Red that I just love. Fox accepts power to help the Guard. It turns out excellently. (For the Guard!) Eldritch guard is wonderfully delicious, and seems to have a subset of fans within the fandom. There's a few really damn good fics of the sort out there.
Palp's activates Fox's chip and uses him to conduct assassinations - Bonus points if Fox starts to become aware of this. bonus bonus points if it causes the chip to degrade, and there's angst over realising what he's done etc. Yes pls!
Fox struggles to trust Nat-borns due to everything that's happened with the Senate. I struggle to ship Fox with Quin or Riyo because of this. Strangely I find Riyo easier than Quin? I think because Quin is a Jedi, and I can imagine Fox feeling very betrayed by them, or separated from them in a way he doesn't perhaps with a nat-born who has worked from the beginning to help him. She's depicted as quite young at the beginning of Clone Wars, so I more imagine them perhaps getting together in the Bad Batch era. I am getting more fond of Foxiyo these days I'm finding! But, realistically, my headcanon is that Fox can't relax completely with Nat-borns, always feels like there's another foot to fall. Personally, as a clone-shipper, I prefer Fox/Thorn, Fox/Cody or Fox/Thorn/Stone/Thire. That last one makes me so freaking happy! I love the idea of them all just piling in together lol!
The command batch consists of Fox, Cody, Wolffe, Bly and Ponds. This is fairly typical of the clone fandom, but I thought it worth saying! I see Fox and Wolffe in particular as very close, seeing each other very much as siblings/twins. There's another excellent fic where Wolffe realises not all is right with the Guard and goes in to investigate, and I LOVE IT.
Fox being Force-sensitive - This is more a trope I enjoy - I don't personally headcanon it, I tend to lean towards any indication of Force-sensitivity being a reason for decommissioning. But do I love fics where he realises this and cleverly avoids being discovered, or the chip prevents Force sensitivity, or he's just quietly better at knowing what people are going to do, at knowing where to dodge to? YES. YES I DO.
Fox is a kind, but firm person. He'll give you his last ration bar, but he'll expect you to do what you're told. He's a Marshal Commander. He's been trained to lead, and he's earned his position. He'll never order someone to do something he wouldn't do himself, and he'll muck in with everyone else.
Fox will sacrifice himself before others. Rations are being cut? Fox takes the lowest amount. The Guard are being given more tasks? Fox will take the first shift.
Fox saves Dogma and incorporates him into the Guard - He hides him the same way he does any trooper order to be decommissioned - he swaps their idents numbers and quietly hides them deep within the Guard. Dogma's a Corrie, and with them, he learns how to be comfortable with himself.
A trope I have enjoyed (but only know of one fanfic that does it!) - is where Fox is actually a series of different clones. There's an excellent fic where the first fox disappears, and Thorn and the other Commanders move someone else into the position. I annoyingly can't remember what it's called right now, but the current Fox at the end of the war is something like the 9th of that name? It's very good!
I know there's more, but I brought some whisky back from Scotland and have enjoyed a couple of glasses and am now struggling to remember more! I may well reblog and add some more as I remember lol!
To me, the Corrie Guard as a whole is particularly interesting precisely because we know so little of them, and only see very brief glimpses of them. I think I've fallen, HARD, for fanon Fox. Where he's the leader of an abused and beleagured group, and doing his absolute best to protect them with every ounce of power he has. Where he suffers and struggles and is broken down to his very marrow, but forces himself back up, and fights to the bitter end to protect others. He's an excellent whump target, and also a sexy silver Fox. What fanon has made of him has been beautiful, and I love it.
Always happy to talk about Fox, and what I like of him.
38 notes
·
View notes
Text
today is webcomics day. i am bea and i make "A Ghost Story" - part 1: pre-gaming
webcomic day is a yearly celebration of the art form concocted by the screentones podcast team as a way for people to see how the sausage gets made. my webcomic "a ghost story" has been running for over 10 years, and yet i still don't think i can say i am good at making a webcomic. regardless, the comic is getting made because otherwise i become very, very sick in the head. today i would like to share with you the process of making a page of "A Ghost Story" from start to finish. either this demystifies the process or will make you think im so cool and strong for doing this 2x a week. instead of reblogging this one post until it gets very long, i will be posting individual updates that i will then compile and post on my personal website. block the tags now if you HATE comics and want them to EXPLODE.
if you have any questions, even things like "what the fuck are you even talking about" feel free to ask. i want to feel confident in what i make again and i think sometimes interrogation from an outside source is really
---
that said, let's get started. wait just kidding i want a cup of coffee first, hold on.
ok now im ready. i have a big glass of water. i have coffee. i have a headset for the parts of work that don't involve typing words. i can't type words and listen to some streamer babble in my ear at the same time, so it has to be instrumental music or nothing. i just took my meds so they should kick in after about 30 mins. i woke up late today, which is weird and annoying. but maybe i can work late instead.
first off, i need to know where i'm going beyond this one page. if i dont know where im going with something, then i usually create something that sucks that i have to deal with later. hold on my internet died, i have to reset the router. ok, anyway.
what's rattling around in my brain is that not only do i have to deal with maxine's current predicament, i am also dealing with multiple plot elements i need to wrap back around to from the previous chapter. luckily, im about to put maxine down for a nap, which means i can get back to those other elements:
i need to finish the exposition from the three ankou characters for this story arc establishing their motivations as the oppositional force in the story. the "villain" is not these three specifically, but their boss. they need to have a loose understanding of what's going on in order to communicate this to the audience. god this started turning into a huge ass paragraph so i'll just keep it short there.
we've jumped back to before jack's horrible day from the first chapter of this storyline so we have to make our way back toward that and then lapping it, which means wrapping up his various open threads like:
feeding victoria and learning something new about her
finding out alice is a very exceptional employee who is getting many awards
watching valdo call lily while interrupting her during something personal to ask her for help with maxine's situation.
jack meeting with valdo and lily the day after they first met so jack can just tell them straight up that lily has 4 sisters she doesnt know about.
help that girl with her poltergeist problem. remember that. i've had jokes for this rattling in my head for like 4 years. im going insane.
and also the fucking tilberi!!! that has a point its going somewhere!!! there's a larger menace here!!!
other things to set up the climax of this storyline. sexual tensions, hints at larger emotional problems not immediately evident to the reader
lots of moving parts. and i feel like im moving in slow motion to get to them. i can see them all weaving together in my head, its the process of putting that onto paper that's proving difficult.
ok that took an hour starting and stopping. -_- let me write the next part as i keep brainstorming on how to approach this page. taking a "rubber duck" approach to this might help. heres an image from the last page i worked on (i have a 5 page buffer rn so the site does not match the finished pages) to get us semi-situated.
also because images will help people understand what skill level we're working with here. i need to be able to communicate an idea to the audience; if the art also looks good on top of that, then that's just an added bonus. but the ability to communicate my ideas is sometimes hampered by my lack of artistic skill or comics language ineptitude. like those speech bubbles kind of fucking suck but at a certain point you have to just hit print on what you're working on in order to keep your already glacial pace.
webcomics is a tightrope act where you're also spinning 4 plates at once. the trick is to keep the audience from realizing how many actually fall or how wobbly they all are. the act sucks but technically its not a failure.
40 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
starorsmthidk
star
dix-rose
shenanigans
brenjaeger
Bren Jaeger
starorsmthidk
star
paasoori
ᶻ̳ᵉ̳ʰ̳ᵃ̳ʳ̳ ̳ᵇ̳ᵃ̳ⁿ̳ᵉ̳ ̳ʰ̳ᵃ̳ᵃ̳