thinking abt bug obsessed!reader who knows everything there is to know abt bugs whose had the fattest crush on dbf!jack forever.
as a result, he’s always called her lovebug or bug because he’s trying to be supportive, because it’s important for little girls to have interests that don’t entirely centre around boys. reader’s dad is like don’t encourage her man she’s too old for this shit. he doesn’t listen. he thinks her bug thing is cool, loves that she can list off facts like an encyclopaedia - accurate ones too, he checks.
unbeknownst to him, he’s stoking the embers of a blazing fire, her crush having upgraded from elementary school stuff to big girl shit. she knew things, having heard tell that girls in her grade were already doing hand stuff in the boys bathrooms during recess, or behind the sports shed on the back field before and after school.
she had indulged her hormone-addled fancies. boys her age weren’t jack abbot, they didn’t care that ants could carry over fifty times their body weight, or that bugs predate dinosaurs by millions of years, and so she wasn’t dragging anyone behind the sheds and shoving her grubby little hand down their pants.
the crush never went away, but going away to college, putting distance between herself and him, had done her some good. she gained some much needed experience - educationally and… otherwise. apparently, she didn’t know much of anything about that particular realm, had known more about butterfly mating patterns than human ones.
she didn’t go home during breaks, not really. had told her parents that she was going to study through the break, the quiet was good. with nobody around, she was more productive, not having to fight over books in the library.
what they didn’t know, was that on the final day of classes, when the last students filed out of lecture halls with packed bags and loaded into friends or families or fuckbuddy’s cars, she was planting her butt in the seat of jack abbot’s.
a drunk text had turned into sober texts, had turned into phone calls, had turned into facetimes, had turned into her spending spring break at his house. and then winter break. and then midterm study breaks. and then summer break.
summer break had been a shitshow. her parents had begged her to come to their fourth of july barbecue, had all but piled into the family car to go and pick her up from campus themselves.
kind of a sticky situation, seeing as she was taking said call from jack’s couch, feet in his lap while he watched the game, a calming hand rubbing circles into her calf. if her dad heard commotion from the pirates devastating loss in the background, he didn’t mention it.
she finally relented, on the basis that she would catch a train home or something. no rides allowed.
when jack fucks her on her parent’s kitchen counter at the barbecue, murmuring in her ear like got the cutest little bug clenching on my big cock, c’mon lovebug can feel you trying not to cum, soak my cock babybug i want it. she cries out before he gags her with his thick fingers. quiet, bug, wouldn’t want your daddy to hear you like this, huh?
he buries his load in her, knows it’s going to fuck up her night, having to pretend she’s having a great time in front of her parents, in front of his best friend, all while his tacky spend leaks from her cunt. he takes some sick pleasure in it, knowing he put it there, and now he gets to watch it unfold.
they’re barely dressed before her dad comes in, wondering where they got to looking for the hot dog packs (not very fucking far)
she glares at him when he cracks some stupid joke to her dad with a pouty lip, still only got the one, man, but no buns.
her dad chuckles, shakes his head fondly. stop talking about your dick in front of my kid, abbot, it’s gross.
jack’s eyes twinkle when he catches her stare. his mouth curves at the end, a smug little smirk reserved just for her. she reads it for what it is. if only he knew.
in the moments like this, when i just rebloged that post with how the boys changed over the years, it hits you that for some time yet we will have recent Liam photos to use, but then, little more time will pass and... and they won't be recent enough. and we will have to just miss him for the rest of our lives. it won't ever go away. not like with some people we can forget about mostly, push it to the back out or minds. we will always remember him. there will be forever an empty space. something and someone missing. all the time in future. how's that ever supposed to get easier.
I'm at work and lately all my ideas have been coming while putting ice in the case.
Inconvenient to say the least...
I'm in the middle of a prompt and a request for my other blog: @smutblud
And what does my brain give me today? Angsty Project Hail Mary idea, that also involves research most likely.
I'm like 1, I don't have time for this right now. 2, this is not what I've been writing lately. 3, wtf brain where did that even come from?
Additionally, for some reason, for like a month I've really only been able to write at work unless it's just finishing touches and it's really really annoying.
Like I'll be thinking about something and the ideas are flowing, stealing 5mins here and there to jot something down, writing in the office and in the bathroom and on break and then I get home and POOF!
Not knowing if something is the bare minimum or not after spending years in an absolute shit relationship is highly confusing 🙂I have no idea if you actually like me or is this how everyone should be treated normally and I’m giggling and kicking me feet over nothing 💀 this person could just be a regular decent human being and I think they’ve hung the moon and starts just for me because you actually want to hangout without using my body? Not everything is tied to sex? Wild concept. Absolutely wild.
On a semi related note @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky wrote this amazing piece which I go to often cause it’s so fucking relatable. While you’re there, go look at her the rest of her work too cause it’s absolutely amazing, not to mention she’s a sweetheart herself
