#however its always laced with being blamed for be here now and throwing that blame back on noel

[todays-just-a-daydream]

Later that week, after working on some other songs, Noel returned to his 'Champagne Supernova' guitar overdubs.

"There are two e-bows that run throughout the song, giving it a sort of violin effect, and he did all of those parts pretty quick,” says Morris. "Then he also did all of his picking parts pretty quick. This went on for about two hours. Noel would just sit in the studio next to his amps and play. He wouldn't come into the control room to listen to what he'd done until everything was finished. So his guitar overdubs were all done fairly quickly.

"After that, there was a session when Liam felt inspired to do all of the Beatle-y 'aaahs' that would go over the guitar solo, to which I also added some Beatle-y Mellotron parts. Then, during another session, he had a go at singing 'Champagne Supernova'. We did half a dozen takes, but what happened was that the high note of the song — at the end of the line 'The world's still spinning around, we don't know why' — was kind of burning his voice out. So he was getting croakier on each take, and by the time he got to the end he was sounding very Rod Stewart-y.

"I did a comp of the vocal and, bizarrely enough, Noel and Liam both liked it. But I didn't. So at the very end of the six-week session at Rockfield, when just Liam and I were in the studio, I got him to re-sing it and we did it piece by piece. We did the first verse half a dozen times and we did the ending half a dozen times. Then, once he'd completed all of the soft bits, Liam did the first chorus half a dozen times, followed by the same number of takes for the second verse and the other choruses, until he tackled the high part last.”

The only major element still missing from 'Champagne Supernova' was the lead guitar that Noel Gallagher wanted his mate Paul Weller to play. Accordingly, after Oasis appeared at the Glastonbury Festival in late-June and the mix of (What's The Story) Morning Glory? commenced on a Neve console in the mix room at South London's Orinoco Studios, Weller showed up one day with his roadie, a white Gibson SG and an old Vox AC30 amplifier.

"He didn't have any pedals with him,” Morris recalled. "He had the volume on '3'. It was a really nice Vox and a really nice SG, and so I just put a 57 on it and recorded it as was. Paul probably did four solos, and then he and Noel let me pick what I wanted. He also contributed a little whistle to 'Champagne Supernova' — a few bars after the big guitar solo finishes — and 'Ooh' backing vocals at the end, as well as some harmonica and guitar to 'The Swamp Song'. All in all, it was another very quick session. He and Noel probably turned up at three in the afternoon and left at seven that evening.”

Owen Morris on recording Champagne Supernova at Rockfield (Sound on Sound 2012)

[pinkteapotwriting]

Not so Innocent desires

Wolfstar x fem!reader

Warning : This is so filthy dear lord, explicit sexual content, Sub!fem reader, spanking, oral, innocence kink and I think that’s it

Just good ol fashioned smut

Summary : Turns out you Remus and Sirius want to treat you a certain way, it takes some special kind of convincing from your end though.

Word count : 3164

The lovely @fionanovasleftnut had a wonderful idea that I couldn’t resist writing about. I’m not sure with how this one turned out but I hope I did the idea justice. xXx

---

Being a family friend of the Weasleys had its perks. You always had someone to stick up for you, always had someone who could make you laugh, and you always had a home with them, wherever that may be. You had moved out on your own as soon as you graduated from Hogwarts, but it seemed that wasn’t the way to start your life as a young adult. The wizarding world was at war and Molly Weasley was insistent that one of her adopted daughters should not be defenseless living alone. 

You had tried to reassure her that you would be fine, you even approached your most likely allies.

“Fred, George please tell her I’ll be fine. You understand right?” They only chuckled at your cute pout and brushed your concerns aside.

So no. No one was willing to risk the parting of their lovely Y/N.

You were too kindhearted, too sweet, too pure. A ray of sunshine in these dark times, too precious to leave unprotected. 

You had been so angry at first, but your anger was soon turned into bashfulness as you were met by two very attractive men. Of course you knew Professor Lupin, he was your teacher and even now words from his mouth directed your way made heat rise to your face.

 Then there was Sirius Black. His long black hair framed his face perfectly. His stormy grey eyes made you completely weak at the knees. 

Everything about these two men left you flustered, Remus’s quick wit, Sirius’s hearty laugh, the knowing glances they’d share, Remus’s scars you just wanted to spend hours tracing, and Sirius’s ring clad fingers that tapped impatiently against the table. For being in Azkaban for 12 years his hands sure looked strong and capable. 

It was a blessing and a curse really. You got to admire two very attractive men, yet you couldn’t manage much more than bashful nods at times. That didn’t stop them from approaching you however. They were so kind and welcoming, so much so that you took up Sirius’s offer to stay there rather than at the Weasleys. He knew you valued your alone time and got anxious in large groups so he thought you’d appreciate your own room rather than crowding in with the Weasleys. It was all good and well.

Except for how often you found yourself rubbing your thighs together at night to ease some sort of tension. Nothing could stop the wetness that pooled in your underwear at the memory of Sirius clenching his jaw in anger as Snape talked, or the way Remus calmed him down by rubbing his hand up and down his thigh. So once again that night you found yourself with that familiar ache you just didn’t know how to satisfy on your own. Your fingers just weren’t good enough. You got up in a huff to get some water at an attempt to calm down. You slipped down the hallway silently, but the sound of a low moan coming from Sirius’s room stopped you in your tracks. The door was slightly ajar and although you knew you shouldn’t peek in, the dull throbbing of your clit convinced you to stay. You had to stifle your own moan at the sight in front of you. 

Sirius was sitting on the edge of his four poster king sized bed while Remus was on his knees between his legs jacking him off.

“Fuck Pads, how was it already this hard I’ve hardly touched you.”

“It’s not my fault! Blame Y/N with those stupid lips she bites. And her big doe eyes and and- fuck Moony that feels so good.” 

Remus grinned at the chance to tease Sirius.

“Not as good as Y/N would feel though right? Bet you’d love to have her little hands wrapped around your cock huh. Imagine if you got to stretch out her perfect little pussy. She’s so fucking innocent, so pure”

“I wanna ruin her god she’s pretty, but at the same time she’s so precious I don’t wanna taint her. She deserves something more gentle and sweet.”

“You’re certainly smitten aren’t you?”

“Don’t act like you don’t wanna fuck her to the brink of tears. Have you heard that cute little giggle? Imagine what her whines sound like. I just wanna watch as you wrap your big hands round her thro-”

“S’that what you want? You wanna make innocent little Y/N our cockslut. Wanna make her our needy puppy. Wonder how many times we could make her come with just our fingers.”

“Fuck Remus I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah that’s right love, cum to the picture of fucking her mercilessly, her nails scratching down your back cause you’re fucking her so hard.”

You watched Sirius shudder while Remus’s face lit up in victory. You decided it was best to leave before they were no longer distracted. 

Well, that certainly didn’t make you any less riled up. Looks like they wanted you as much as you wanted them. You knew you’d have to put your shyness aside, but how on earth do you talk to someone about that. Yes, hello I find you two super hot and I’d just love it if you’d degrade me and throw me around thank you so much. Frankly you never knew you wanted that yourself until you heard the words fall from their lips with ease. You put your plan in motion as you traveled back to your room, praying it would work.

---

You were giddy when you woke up, anxious for the day that awaited you. You decided to wear a shirt that Remus had once complimented, suddenly much more aware of how it complimented your chest. You paired it with your shortest skirt and thigh high socks. You turned around and shoulder checked to appreciate yourself, knowing if you bent over too much anyone could see the white lace thong you had underneath.

You knew the order meeting was starting earlier than usual so you pranced down the stairs and were met with a dumbstruck Ron and Ginny.

“Blimey Y/N, who are you trying to shag?” He was instantly met with a slap by Ginny.

“Shut it Ron, don’t talk about Y/N like that you git. You look adorable.” She reassured.

You smiled sweetly at her and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks Gin, I’m gonna go get breakfast now.”

You swear you saw Remus and Sirius give a double take when you entered the kitchen. Pleased your plan was going well you continued into the next phase and sat between Fred and George casually as if your heart wasn’t racing a million miles an hour. Any laugh that the twins could pull from your lips were met with a hard stare from Sirius and Remus. Normally Remus could keep a calm disposition but you could notice the look of contempt in his eyes as his hand clenched the edge of the table. 

 You pushed your chair back and made your way to the sink. 

“Here Molly, let me help you clean up.”

“Thank you dear, you can just grab the dishes from the table love.” 

You made your way round the table and once you reached where your two admirers were you squeezed between them and bent over to grab the last plate, feeling your skirt ride up high enough to gain a sharp intake of breath from Sirius. 

“Sorry, it was just easier to get it this way.” 

You smiled to yourself as you helped Molly finish cleaning. Everything cycled out and everyone rearranged where they sat as they tidied up before the meeting began. You were thrilled at the chance to sit between Remus and Sirius now that everyone had moved. You leaned forward so you could rest your chin on your hand as Kingsley Shacklebolt spoke of the newest updates happening within the ministry. Fred and George would sometimes try to throw you off by making funny faces, but they were met by a hard glare by Remus which instantly simmered them down, while Sirius placed his arm around the back of your chair in a possessive manner. Welp, now was as good a time as ever to test the waters. You leaned back into your chair and crossed one leg over the other so your foot would brush against Sirius’s calf. He passed a glance, and you took a deep breath and moved it up and down his leg. You smirked at how you saw his hands clench and that spurred you on to lightly place your hand on Remus’s thigh.

“Y/N love, what are you doing exactly” Remus’s voice was shaky, like he was holding back.

Time to ice the cake.

“Nothing Remmy, I’m just being innocent little Y/N.”

Sirius’s head swerved at that one and you couldn’t help but notice the growing tent in his trousers.

---

It took forever for everyone to leave after the meeting. It took even longer to convince Molly that you were fine to stay here rather than go back to the burrow.

“Alright Y/N if you’re sure, but you know how to reach me if you need anything at all right?”

“Of course Molly.”

If she knew what you wanted these two men to do to you she would be dragging you by the ear out the door. But finally, finally she left.

Leaving you alone with two straight faced men whose expressions were unreadable. Remus was the first to break the silence. 

“Y/N, did you over hear our conversation last night”

You nodded, but Sirius wasn’t having it.

“Nuh uh, you’re gonna answer out loud for us pretty girl. You don’t get to tease us the way you do then act all shy now.”

“Yes, I heard.”

Remus returned to questioning you. “Yeah, and did you like what you heard?”

“I- I did.”

“Didn’t know you were such a naughty girl” Sirius chortled, “wish I would have known sooner.”

“I’m not naughty!”

“Oh yeah what makes you say that?”

“Cause I wanna be your good girl, please make me your good girl.”

Remus was hypnotised by the puppy dog eyes and pouty lips looking up at him.

“Shhh we’ve got you puppy, we just thought you’d want something more gentle.”

“No Remmy, I want you.”

“You can have me darling, let's go upstairs.”

He offered his hand to you and you took it eagerly, and began your journey upstairs, earning a chuckle from Sirius as you snatched his hand too on the way. As soon as you entered they had their hands on you, Sirius had you pressed against Remus as he was kissing your neck. 

“You sure you want this love?”

“Please Siri.”

“Alright pup, safe word is red okay? Any point you feel uncomfortable you tell us and we’ll stop immediately. Can you say it for me?” 

“Red.”

“Good girl,” Remus praised “Here, let's take all this off since it’s not covering much anyway.”

You nodded and lifted your arms for Remus while Sirius got on his knees to take off your skirt. He debated leaving the socks on, but he wanted you to feel every single thing so he took them off. Now last, but certainly not least. 

“As cute as these panties are, they're only in my way, can I take these off precious?”

“M Hmm.”

Remus was quite content to take off your bra and massage your breasts and nibble across your shoulders while Sirius continued his attempts to draw dirty words from your clean mouth.

“Baby, your pussy is so wet right now. Can I touch it, love?”

You spread your legs further for him as an invitation.

“Not here, our precious girl deserves to be comfy on the bed.” 

Remus sat against the headboard and motioned for you to follow suit between his thighs.

You practically skipped there, so excited for what was about to happen. You sat down with a quick plop and wiggled your hips to get more comfy, eyes wide as Sirius crawled up from the end of the bed to push your legs apart and gently trace your inner thighs with his forefinger.

“Tell me pup, have you ever touched yourself?”

You nodded bashfully, which Remus did not enjoy apparently as he lightly slapped your thigh with one hand while the other grabbed hold of your jaw to force your eyes onto Sirius fully.

“What did we say about speaking out loud pup, be a good girl.”

“Sorry Remmy, I got embarrassed, I do touch myself Siri”

Sirius grinned, “What makes you touch yourself sweet girl.”

“You, you and Moony do.” He relished in the whine that escaped your lips as he finally made contact with your aching clit, clearly he liked that answer.

“What do you imagine us doing to you pup.”

You moaned as his pace quickened. “Anything, anything you want.”

That’s when his tongue made contact on your clit instead. You jolted at the sudden change, but Remus was quick to hold you down.

“That feel good, sweetheart? I love Siri’s tongue too.” 

You could only throw your head back and mewl as Sirius’s tongue flicked faster and he added a finger to the mix, completely enthralled with how your entrance clenched around it desperately.

“Pads I think our pretty girl is gonna cum keep going. Has anyone ever made you feel this good puppy? Fred or George couldn’t make you feel like this could they?”

“No- no Remmy.”

“Wait till I get my turn love, go on and cum so I can make my pretty girl feel good too.”

Even Sirius’s tight grip on your thigh couldn’t keep you tethered as you released on his face. Bliss like you had never known overtook and it’s like you were hyper aware of every touch, every breath of theirs that fanned across your body, and every kiss that Remus awarded you with for being your lovely self.

And you couldn’t get enough of it.

Neither could Sirius as he leaned back to take in the view of the masterpiece he created. He loved how you had squirmed under his touch as he continued to thrust his fingers eagerly. 

He was feeling benevolent though and pulled out. Instead he took a firm grasp on your hair and pulled you on your hands and knees so you were eyelevel with his throbbing cock. 

Remus placed a couple of smacks on your ass now that it was exposed for him.

“What do you say to Pads for making you feel so good?”

Sirius wondered if you were aware how cute you looked with your owlish eyes oggling his long member.

“Thank you, Siri.”

“That’s right Puppy, now how about you return the favor.”

You just nodded obediently and stuck out your tongue, which only made Sirius growl even louder as he shoved his cock in your mouth. You tried your best to relax your throat but found yourself gagging at the surprise feeling of Remus’s head rubbing up and down your slick folds.

You arched your back and whimpered around Sirius’s cock and Remus got the message loud and clear. Slowly he inched his way inside groaning when your wet heat enveloped him completely. Once you were used to the feeling you wiggled your hips as a signal so he could move. The slow powerful thrusts of Remus made Sirius thrust through your perfect lips even faster at how the vibrations you emitted felt around his cock. His grip on your hair got even tighter.

“Fuck you feel so good puppy, such a good girl taking such good care of us. I’m gonna cum all over that pretty face, want me to cum all over your face, sweet girl?”

At the sound of your desperate whining he gave your face a few rough pats and yanked your head back. He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you stuck your tongue out waiting patiently while he stroked his dick furiously. Finally he released on your face, but before you got the chance to think he was licking it up with wide stripes across your face before moving to kiss Remus. You glanced over your shoulder at the two most beautiful men you’d ever been blessed to see, and moaned as their teeth clashed in a hungry and needy kiss. They stopped in a pant and had their foreheads pressed together, grinning at your demands.

“Moony I think our good little puppy wants more attention.”

“Aw, is that so my needy angel. I can fix that for you.”

Quicker than you could count he had you flipped on your back and started fucking into you ruthlessly. His movements were filled with so much determination that every thrust was pushing you to the end of the bed until your back was hanging off the edge. He grabbed hold of your legs and swung them both over your shoulders so he could reach even newer sensitive spots inside you, completely captivated by how freely your tits bounced in this position.

“Rem- Remus I’m gonna cum.”

“No you’re not, you be our good girl and hold on a little longer.”

“Please I can’t take it.”

“If you wanna cum you beg for it then, since you can’t wait.”

“Please please, let me be your good girl, please let me cum you make me feel so good please.”

“Hear that Pads? Imagine if someone heard pure little Y/N acting as our desperate puppy. Okay darling you go ahead and make a mess on my cock baby.”

A wave of euphoria rushed over you as you hung there and took every slam that came your way. The bliss however quickly became too much as your legs wriggled to find your escape from his strong grasp. He just grunted and let you slide into a heap on the floor. He swept to the side of the bed and around to where you were and hoisted you back on the bed so you were on your stomach and your legs hung off the edge. He pressed his hand to your back to firmly hold you in place.

“Angel you begged for this, now you’re gonna take it, yeah?”

He returned to his prior animalistic pace that summoned tears to roll down your cheeks. 

Sirius started petting your head lovingly “It’s okay love, you’re being such a good girl for Moony and I. You look so gorgeous with those tears all fucked out.”

He continued to comfort you and press kisses to your hairline until finally Remus reached satisfaction with his brutal attack on your tight hole.

“Fuck, Y/N I’m gonna cum”

He pulled out swiftly and his hips found their way to Sirius’s hungry lips. It was such a beautiful sight, but your voice made and audible whine before you could control yourself.

“What’s wrong sweetheart, thought you wanted me to stop.”

“Wanted your cum, wanted you to cum in me Remmy.”

“We’ve got plenty of time to make that happen precious girl.”

---

Hmmm yeah I’m not sure how I feel about this one, but I hope y’all enjoy my lovelies <3

@thotbutpurple @quindolyn @sunny-bunnny

[missgeniality]

Opaline Moon (m)

“The Moon can never breathe, but it can take our breath away with the beauty of its cold, arid orb.” - Munia Khan

➺ Banner: @hobiandsprite​ 💕

➺ Pairing: Seokjin x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Friends to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11.2k

➺ Summary: You are ingrained to love Jin, right upto the blood that courses through your veins. Confessing, however, is a whole other game. So it’s a good thing you’re bad at keeping your hands to yourself, because happenstance can handle the rest. 

➺ Warnings: talks about dance floor fucking, making out in the bar bathroom, fingering, pussy slapping, passing out drunk, daydreams about thigh riding, reader masturbates, they make out A LOT, neck kissing, a hickey, nipple play, some biting, cum eating (kind of, you’ll see), blowjob, protected sex!, reader and jin are corny, the hurt is real but the sex is real-er

➺ Author’s Note: My lovely, lovely moots - @taegularities​, @kithtaehyung​ and @baepsaetan​, thank you so much for betaing this and hyping it up, your comments made this fic a hundred times better! As I mentioned on the teaser, this fic took a lot out of me, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing the angst and will write more whenever the story aligns! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing, and I hope this lovable Jin reaches your heart! (ngl, in usual fashion, I will come back and edit it again, so if you see a spelling mistake, your eyes are lying to you) Do let me know what you think, your asks and comments make my day!

This is the second part of my Dress Down series, find more at it’s masterlist!

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Sweltering heat. Blaring traffic. Little to no sleep. Through all things wrong, one man’s thoughts wrapped around you like a cooling breeze, a shield to protect you from the vicissitudes of reality, to draw you back into all of him. Unfortunately, your reality may never see that day come to light.

Kim Seokjin.

Kim Seokjin, the man who cooked you up a greasy break-up meal at three in the morning with not a sight of discomfort, putting your needs above all.

Kim Seokjin, whose puns make you roll your eyes heavenward, half awed at how he manages to pull one out of his collection at a moment's notice, and half irked by the untimely laugh it brings out of you.

Kim Seokjin, the man who will never be yours, and you have no one to blame but yourself. 

One could argue that the miscommunication that had caused this present condition was two-way. If you had stopped him, corrected him, let him know the truth… you wouldn’t have to resort to the extreme measures you’re currently entangled in. One would also say, you are trying to redeem your mistake by trying too hard. Surely, everyone and their mothers could see through your ruse. 

This is the fourth time you’re visiting Jin for his BE shoot - a shoot taking place two hours away from the city, disguised under various layers of secrecy to prevent any leakage of the album concept, or Jin in general. Of course, you had been made privy to such exclusive information, because you and Jin were ‘best friends’. 

Best. Friends.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Best friends. The term you coined for (and forced upon) the bond you had. The bond that was too close to sprouting into something new, something fresh, something that was filled with glimmering allure and dragged you in like quicksand. But also, it reeked of commitment, of shadows, of newness that you hadn’t felt in the longest time, and fear of already being far too deep in without even taking the first step. 

The loud thrum of some internet kid’s new hit pulses through the air of the club as bundles of couples occupy the dance floor, laughing and gyrating to a song that, in your opinion, most definitely does not suit gyrating. But with enough of the weekend happy hours intake combined with hormone-riddled minds, one could very well throw it back to a church choir. 

You weave through the drunken bodies, trying not to spill the precariously held three drinks in your hands, making your way to your inner circle, the only people to blame for dragging you to this slosh-fest.

“Y/N!” 

Somehow Hoseok’s voice can echo across the club, but you didn’t even need his addressal because Jin’s laughter is loud enough to navigate anyone to your table. Seeing you struggle with the glasses (and mostly the crowd, with some of them living their exhibitionist dreams), Hoseok gets up to assist you.

“I swear, if I see one more couple pretending to be dancing as they rub one off of each other’s thighs, the black market will have my eyes.”

“Oh yeah?” Jin’s breathy voice interjects your black-market dreams, still bursting in short laughs from whatever sent him rolling before your arrival. “Why don’t you go join them?”

“And whose thigh is she taking, yours?” Yeji snorts out, one hand holding her nebula blue drink, the other wrapped around Hoseok, urging him to come closer. Jin’s features scrunch into a cringe, and you’re thankful for the dim lighting because the disappointment in your features does not reach them.

“The only action these leather pants are getting is in the damned laundromat,” he points to his shiny trousers, “some jerk dropped his drink on it.”

“You could be the first person to give some chick an orgasm and a yeast infection.” Hoseok giddily adds, his fifth shot clearly making a mess of his brain cells. 

Jin claps and gets up to move away from the group. “Better than a pregnancy!” he yells, before zigzagging through the crowd, possibly to the restroom. He is on his third cocktail, and you’d think cocktails are lighter drinks. But in this bar, their taps just seem to flow with tequila, and it is very evident in the way Jin is currently walking.

His absence hits you harder than you think, but it might be the alcohol talking. Jin has always been the mood-maker of the group, the one who brings everyone together. Of late though, his magnetic persona has been an irritant in your life. Any outing you two take, any chance you have to come clean about the burgeoning crush you have on him, is effectively disrupted by one of his posse. And today, Hoseok and Yeji took that trophy. 

“Earth to Y/N. Has the cocktail finally broken you?”

You flutter your eyes in a manic fashion, to disperse the daydream you were indulging yourself in, and bring your attention back to the couple calling for you. Surprisingly, they have stood up, Yeji emptying the last of her neon drink. 

“What happened?”

“We are going to the club nearby, they have better stuff. And that’s code for ‘they actually add water to the drink and the surround sound doesn’t shatter your ear drum’.’” 

She isn’t wrong. The cocktails and music here are a 19-year-old frat party dream, not something the working class can digest. But you’re tired at this point, and don’t want to be smothered by someone else’s love life when your own is down the dumps.

“You guys carry on! I’ll tell Jin where you are and he’ll meet you there!”

You watch as Hoseok and Yeji lead each other to the exit, hands circling their partner’s waist. They giggle on and on, about nothing and everything, and it only hardens the emptiness you feel inside you. 

Why can’t you gather the balls to spit your feelings out? What could possibly go wrong? Yes, you may lose one of your closest friends, but is this friendship really worth the agony? The bitterness you feel when you see any couple enjoying themselves? The anger you harbor whenever Jin tells you about his dates? The heartache, when he hugs you and tells you that you’re the best thing that’s happened to him… as a friend? Is it? Your plastered brain tells you to not make any rash decisions, so you don’t, instead choosing to get up and search for your best friend. 

The corridor leading to the washrooms is dimly lit, throwing a merlot filter over your eyesight, making you squint in search of your friend. You being shitfaced does not help, and while relishing in your floating wooziness, you see Jin come out, and feelings you’ve held at bay for so long slither through your currently porous defenses. 

He has always been good-looking. He himself has said so a dozen times.

But wow.

His hair lays messily atop his beautiful face, unkempt, like a breeze of beauty swept across his mighty looks and displaced every strand, causing disarray, but even the disarray only frames his superior looks and adds to its potent charm. The black, patchy sweater hanging loose off his broad shoulders makes you feel things you shouldn’t feel as a friend. That stupid gut of yours is currently screaming, yelling for all hands on deck, trying to block all the feelings from gushing in and sending you into overdrive.

By the time you can gather yourself to stop from giving in to those dangerous thoughts, Jin has crossed the distance between you, coming close, too close. Chocolate-brown eyes peer into your soul, searching for whichever fantasy you chose to lose yourself in. His eyes flit down to notice your rumpled dress that has found its way a couple of inches above its designated spot. His gaze returns to yours, but not without a newfound hardness, an almost steely glaze over the kindness that you usually find in the chocolate pools, accentuated under the garnet lighting. 

“Hey, umm…” You beg for a reprieve, from your thoughts, from your filthy mind, from the way he is eyeing your cleavage, or just for the burning between your legs. You’re about to make some serious mistakes, you can feel it down to your bone.

You’re far too overdressed. 

You knew it when you were in the process of getting dressed, but right now, you feel it much more - you look like a shiny disco ball orbiting amidst the plethora of loose tees, leggings and flannels. Everything screams comfort, because the amount of work they’re putting into this begs for it. 

The strappy lace sundress you wear is extremely out of place, the halter-neck tie behind your neck fastened a little looser than necessary, giving your breasts the exposure they deserve, a nice valley view. Your dress skirt, adorned with pretty frills and dainty flowers, cut across your thigh to frame your petite hips. You are one floppy sun hat away from an extravagant Greek cruise - and in the moment you wish you had one to hide your face in shame. 

You’re just out here, trying to escape the zone. 

“Oh, would you look at the time, it’s tits out Tuesday already?”

Your eyes roll before Sanghoon even finishes his sentence, because you wouldn’t expect anything else from him. On the team of the set design, he is carrying a whole drapery worth of plush, mauve curtains, struggling with the slipping fabric. But apparently not struggling enough to stop him from getting his nose into your business, it seems.

“Literally not even a time you just mentioned. Can’t get one thing right.” You can’t stop yourself from stretching a hand out to feel the curtain fabric, the satiny sheets begging to be touched. Before you can though, Sanghoon moves away, not allowing you to shift the focus of the conversation.

“Don’t steer away from the facts. Your tits.”

“That’s the fact?”

“They’re out.” He bucks up, trying to point with the hand stuffed underneath all the cloth. “That’s the fact.”

“Ugh, can’t a girl dress up once in a while?” The pointed attention makes you uncomfortable, because everything he’s insinuating is true. With every passing staff member, you count a new shade of grey, interspersed with occasional blacks and greens, a stark contrast to your floral overtones. Amidst the thousand footsteps taken in your vicinity, only yours are pointed heels, echoing across the studio with every clack. But you’re a stubborn one, refusing to give in to his totally valid argument. “I just woke up early.”

“Girl.” Like light through frosted glass, he sees through your bullshit, but only partially. “You put an alarm to dress up? I have nightmares of the boss brandishing her whip and telling me to get into position, and even that doesn’t wake me up.” 

“Have you ever considered… not announcing your kinks to everyone and their sisters?”

“Ehh,” he simply shrugs, “nothing is new when you’ve serenaded your boss drunk in a karaoke bar and still managed to keep your job. Wait. Is that highlighter?”

“Stop staring into my tits!” You can’t believe you got caught, but also, who can you blame? After testing this outfit out from the crack of dawn, you decided your cleavage needed some extra help. Three YouTube tutorials and one TikTok lady - who make it look far easier than it is - down, the contouring brought out the swell of your breasts, and against the light fabric of your dress, it does look too good to be true.

Memories of that night in the bar come in billows and waves, of how enamored Jin was with the way your boobs looked at that time. Even under the dingy lighting, in the cramped space, under heavily inebriated scrutiny, you couldn’t miss the flicker of heat in his gaze every time it passed your chest. 

One thing led to another, and it was a cascade none of you could stop. The heat of attraction between you two does not help your wandering mind, and the fever drowns the knowledge that what you’re feeling is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, crossing some lines that can never be mended back again. With the proximity, his musky scent invades whatever defenses you were trying to patch, piercing through all your inhibitions and you pull him into you, claiming his lips to be yours. 

With his wobbly knees and your wobbly heels, you somehow find your way to the washroom - mostly he does, you give in halfway to wrap your legs around his lean waist, his sturdy legs balancing your weight on them as your back hits the wall, and his lips tear down your walls. 

“You look so fucking sexy today,” between bated breaths and indulgent sighs you confess, “just driving me nuts.” Letting your hands drag along his abdomen, feeling the ups and downs of his abs, you attempt to rid him of the sweater that’s been on your hit list all night. But to your dismay, your endeavor is blocked, when Jin gathers your wrists in his palm, turning you around to bend you over on the countertop, the smooth marble chill hitting your braless chest, perking your nipples under the cold. 

“And you?” Jin bends to give your earlobe a languid lick, progressing very slow, a complete contrast to the movement of his hips as he ruts against your ass, your already short dress bunching up with every move. “You think it’s smart to have your tits torment me like this?” Grabbing a handful from behind, he tests the weight of each fleshy mound, and by now you are certain your perked nubs can pierce his palm. 

His free hand, not yet torturing you, decides to get in on the action and disappears under the counter, swiftly crossing the bunched fabric of your dress, gaining easy access to your pussy. The cold touch of his pads sears against the heat of your core, finding your pleasure button and languidly fiddling with it, with no intention to cross you over the brink in sight. The only pleasure you can indulge in is the reflection of him abusing your nipples, pinching and tugging them down, whispering filthy words into your ear as he takes in your fucked out countenance. 

You feel lacking, weak hands balancing your dizzy self, finding purchase to keep you upright - but you’re both drunk on alcohol and hypnotized by his beauty to do much more than stare at his mirrored counterpart. “For fuck’s sake, kiss me.” 

How he understood your slurred words, you don’t know, but you are glad he did. In a moment you’ve been displaced, the hurried motion sending your neurons into a flurry. Once your back meets the hard marble, and your eyes have the privilege to see his, you pull him in closer, the force enough to hold you against the wall while your legs wrap around his lean waist. 

Originally not a fan of drunken misadventures, that side of yours is strangely mute to the going current onslaught. Well, you don’t have much breath left to say anything, because Jin is efficiently stealing it all, his teeth clashing with yours as you engage in the messiest kiss ever known to mankind (or at least, to you). He changes pace often, dragging his tongue leisurely against your lower lip, conveying tacit words, just to switch it up with a sharp bite and reel you in. 

One corner of your senses can feel his fingers messing around your cunt, and playing with the wetness your thong can barely contain. It makes you shudder, the damage that his fingers can cause solely circling around your hole. 

“Fuck me.” 

In your drunken stupor, you don’t know if the words leave you right, but you get confirmation when his long fingers finally penetrate your cunt, giving your walls something to clench on - although nothing could possibly compare to what you imagine you can get from his dick.

“God, you feel that grip,” he grunts, with two of his fingers in you, and Jin’s smile is the most sinister you’ve ever seen. “I think we should take this home,” is what his lips utter, but his fingers delve deeper, searching for the spot that crumbles you. The base of his palm grinds against your throbbing clit, and you are forced to bite down on this sweater, lest an embarrassingly loud moan escapes you and cues outsiders into your filthy doings. 

“Now,” you half-hiss, half-growl as you grab the cusp of his legs to feel his half-hard erection grow under the pressure of your hand. Your palm sliters up just to go down again, this time without the blockade of his pants, but you are stopped short of success when Jin’s fingers slip out of you to give you a sharp swat. 

“Stubborn, aren’t we? Can’t fucking wait,” he whispers into your ear, and as he envelops your lobe with his cushiony lips, he continues, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

No, no, no. 

Your brain rejects logic, chews and spits it out before any of the rationale seeps into you. You have wanted this for far too long. The need inside you for a meaningful relationship materializes in the form of recklessness, desperately looking for surface-level relief for the moment. A night of sewing sutures to your battle-worn heart, stitches that may come off at the slightest strain - but right now, that will do. 

“Please, Jin,” your tantalizing tone riles up his cock again, eagerly waiting for your next words, “can’t you feel me dripping? Come on, I can take you.”

“Fuck, hear that wetness.” He lets his palm slap against your sopping entrance, not stopping with one. With every slap, droplets of your arousal splash out, the insides of your thighs coated in the sticky sweetness, but your body is an endless reservoir producing plentiful more for Jin to play with. “Have you been sitting with this all this time?”

Two long fingers invade your channel again, leaving you with no response other than a gasp. They scissor incessantly, preparing you for what could be the railing of your lifetime. One curl inside and his fingertips hit the spot he was looking for, making you warp your body to take the pleasure coursing through your veins. His tongue seems to mimic the actions, looping around your earlobe as he sucks it inside, both ends of your body engulfed in all the attention he could provide. 

Your cunt is weeping against the assault of this man’s hands, tears of your cum flowing down your legs with every pump of his arm. You are getting there, the sweet swell of release inching closer and closer.

But something doesn’t feel right.

The tightness in your belly, that is to a point caused by Jin, is harboring other sensations that are not entirely pleasant. Maybe you’re anxious about the happenings. Maybe you haven’t had a good orgasm in a while and have just forgotten how this thing works.

Or maybe, the bar should have the water tap actually give out water.

Either your eyes close, or your brain does, but suddenly all you can see is darkness.

 Again, you are just trying to escape the zone.

“Step under those studio lights,” pointing at the too-bright stage lights being set up at the moment, Sanghoon continues, breaking your daydream, “I bet you could signal to aliens with the booby-reflection. Call them to Netflix and chill.”

“In about five seconds, my heel will be puncturing your eye. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” 

Sanghoon’s drivel was cut short, and so were your murder plans, with his entry. “Oh look, he’s on set. Gotta go!” 

It’s like the lights, earlier threatening to burn away your skin, dim down in reverence of the glow of his face. The twinkle of his eyes when they meet yours. The shine of his smile when he throws you one. The vibrance of his tone when he calls out your name. Everything he does now threatens to burn you whole and it’s a wonder you’re not scalding, but the singe hurts you deep inside.

“Y/N! How do I look?” It’s a bathrobe. Like satin, or silk. Fucking hell, your brain could explode with the adjectives coming up, a whole chunk of them very much inappropriate to utter out in the current scene. Your arms want to rise, engulf him into you, and you have to physically halt the muscles from doing anything stupid. Brain, quick! Say something snarky and spicy, as best friends do!

“What’s the theme, unicorn puke?” The safest way to deflect is to attack. So you do just that. ���You look like you dressed out of Hannah Montana’s closet. Which if it's true, I really need to see it. There’s a top that I’ve been eyeing for decades!”

“Don’t say decades.” Jin’s eyes crinkle in humor. “Makes me feel so old. Your dress is pretty cool too!” 

Cool.

You find out how difficult life can be when you count every single minute of yours. So far, you have counted 4,310 minutes. That is two days, twenty-three hours, and fifty minutes. Ten more minutes and it will be three whole days since you and Jin spoke. 

Yet again, you can’t blame him. When you came to the next day, you were in your bed, clad in the same shimmering silver bodycon that you had donned last night. The same one that had been privy to the colorful deeds you had committed in what was a dreary, colorless setting. 

One ibuProfen and ginger ale, downed with some severe recollections of the previous night, and you had been ready to throw it all up again. 

I don’t want to hurt you.

Words couldn’t describe what you were going through, and numbers weren’t invented to count the endless thoughts racing in your brain. You don’t know what is more upsetting. The fact that you actually had a chance to open your heart and you totally let your pussy think instead? Or that he was the one coherent enough to stop you from getting too far, and you let your desperation get the best of you? Everything about that night was wrong. And all the wrongs lie on your side. 

I don’t want to hurt you.

In the moment, it was physical, he had to have meant that. But there was a tremor in his voice, you can remember clear as day, a slightly shaken side of him had emerged through the intoxication, and the words he had breathed were not shallow. There was a gravity to them, that you’d stupidly ignored in the heat of the moment.

And now, here you are. Counting up till the last minute, after which you can effectively call the friendship ruined. Stirring your tea mindlessly, you try to focus on the show on TV, the variety show comedy not striking the usual funny bones that they could 4,311 minutes ago. 

The programmed ding of your phone bursts your thought bubble, a sound you have missed the past 72 hours. The ring you dedicated to Jin, that always had you running to receive because anything he sends brightens your day. But unlike those happier times, this ring has your gut fall into a pit of despair, struggling to choose between dispersing the suspense or remaining blissfully unaware of the damage you caused.

Jin: Free tmrw? We could grab coffee Jin: And talk

Talk. How? You barely remember what went down, save for fleeting moments that you recollected with great difficulty. Your fingers type back, trying to mimic the nonchalance in his text, that is very much absent in your actual demeanor.

Y/N: Sure. Paik’s at 1? Jin: Yup. See ya

Three texts, zero laughs. Of course, you’re not expecting him to land his jokes in this situation, even someone as talented as he can’t flip this tension. You’re just going to have to wait for tomorrow, when he decides whether you have a place in his life or not. 

The painstakingly worn outfit, accessorizing the whole look, the straps of your heels digging into your toes, the specks of makeup dust lying stale on your collar bones, the shine faints at that word. Cool. A perfectly normal phrase for a normal friendship. You are left maimed, while he absent-mindedly tends to the rope of his robe, blissfully unaware of the cyclonic emotions churning inside you. All you can possibly do is gulp it down. 

He runs his hands through his hair, beautiful locks coming out of place, and from one corner of the set, a groan of anguish emerges. 

“Oppa! Don’t play with your hair and face.” A masked lady runs forward waving combs that look like artillery, “We just got done setting it!”

Some finger guns, a happy apology, and some silly jokes later, all the stylists merrily round up to undo his doing, and Jin signals to you to catch up later. And as he walks away, the strings tugging at your heart reappear, as they do every time you come to meet him.

You have a masochistic streak in you, putting yourself through this every day, when he had made it clear, that you two never stood a chance. 

As if things aren’t already difficult, he looks like a dream. 

Soft, snowy skin gleaming like it has personal lighting wherever it goes, you get flashes of the rarely witnessed sweat on his skin, from the ferocity of last night. He’s blowing away the foam of his cappuccino, and tiny bubbles float into the air before falling flat on the table, like an animated shine that follows him along. God has His favorites, and God makes sure all the lighting in the world is perfect for these favorites. 

In no hurry, you wait at the counter to get your latte. After receiving it though, you can’t linger any longer and drag yourself to the table of doom.

“Hey.”

If the rasp in your voice is evident, he doesn’t show any recognition on his face. But you’ve learned to never trust an acting major. 

“Hi. How are you doing?”

Inadvertently, a snicker escapes your lips. “Are you interviewing me for a job?” you joke, trying to disperse the heavy air, filled with unspoken words. “If so, at least know that I’m very expensive.”

The familiar windshield wiper laugh does not greet you. Dead silence does. The half-smirk he painfully gives you is heavy, and the furrowed brows haven’t an inkling of joy. It shoots daggers in your heart, to know that you are the reason for this jolly man’s despondency. 

“Listen, I don’t think we should skirt around the issue too much. It happened, these things happen. You think Hoseok and Yeji didn’t have sex before making it official?”

His matter-of-fact nature isn’t new to you. Jin has always been a very practical man. Regardless of his inane sense of humor, his logical point of view has always been flawless. 

But right now, at this very moment, logic isn’t what you are looking for. You are looking for answers, but as far withdrawn from logic as possible, to take the edge off of the tension-laden air that surrounds your table.

“Yeah, but even… unofficially… we aren’t a thing, right?” 

Your abrupt question takes Jin unaware, almond eyes widening, like a toddler caught in an act. 

“No, no! Of course not! I would never!” 

His confession slips out with an ease that hurts you, digs deep to carve out the part of you that dreamt of anything more. Your eyes fall to your knees to avoid his perceptive gaze, the sting clear as the sky on a summer day. 

You force a smile and continue. “Then there’s no issue. Anyway,” you gulp your coffee down, burning your throat, but it's a distraction from the burning inside, “I need to get to work. Anything else?”

He’s still searching you, for what, you can’t possibly fathom. From the looks of it, he should be happy with this homeostasis; he doesn’t even know what this means for you. To still stay suspended in limbo, not being able to move up or down, to continue having thorns digging into your beating soul as you watch him like nothing bothers your already frail feelings. Scene by scene, you can visualize the future, him distancing himself from you as he finds the one he calls his, with you left in the shadows. Your knees tremble in fear of the impending future.

Seeing you in a tizzy, he calls out, the voice too loud for the cafe and your mind’s prison cage. 

“We’re still best friends, right?” If you knew better, you’d say his expression is that of sadness, of regret. But your judgment is clouded with your own bothers, and you interpret it as a look of pity. Like a lovesick puppy, kicked to the streets, with nowhere to call home. 

“Yeah! Always.” You give it as much enthusiasm as you can muster. 

Best friends.

Ropes wind around your heart, tugging and causing the deep ache that sets in as you walk back into your dreary building. Each string pulls you into a different dimension where you could move on, where you could be okay with the setting you had just agreed to. Where you would keep up your end of the promise and truly remain friends with him.

But no matter how strong the tug, your heart never yields, never lets go of the castle of dreams you built, staying steadfast in its own misery, choosing to hope, choosing to live the life of unrequited love.

“And that’s a wrap! Good job everyone!”

Applause and hurrays echo across the set to bring you back to the present. The shoot has officially concluded, which means it's time for your most favorite and least favorite part of the day - Jin and you doing best friend things, like grabbing lunch, gossiping about obnoxious coworkers, threatening to disembowel each other (in Mortal Kombat, of course) and other friendly activities. 

Ever so respectful, Jin takes his time thanking every member of the set, regardless of whether they moved a cushion or held the reflector screen for hours. All the women gush over his beauty, reminding him of how, even amidst the glowing ornaments, his face was the brightest. His responses vary, from quiet little giggles, to complimenting the crew for making it happen, to straight up owning his charisma like a boss. That’s your man. 

Well, not quite. Not one bit.

After exhausting the handshakes and hugs to be received, Jin walks to you, hands pushing his robe back to give it a cape like effect. You’re just glad that the man’s child persona still stays with him, no matter the situation.  He guides you to his green room, cracking his bones on the way, (very sexily, might you add).

“Holding a pose for that long gives me cramps! You’d think dancing breaks my back, and you’d be wrong.”

You’re desperately avoiding looking at his fingers, and keep your eyes below them - shoot! His ceaseless stretching gives you a glimpse under his shirt - it is dragging your memories back to the last time you saw them, and you’d rather not. It is hurting you in more ways than one. 

Eye contact is your safest bet. Looking up, you give him a lopsided grin. “Your grandfatherly days are approaching, Jinnie.” 

“Hey!” 

The rest of the conversation was less speaking, more yelling and chasing after each other to the green room, Jin taking mock-offence at your jab at his age, and his fingers reaching out to flick your forehead in retort. In your noisy, messy fashion, you both finally enter the room, dim gold light bulbs and shiny mirrors meeting your huffing self. 

One hand on your knee, you hold on to Jin’s arm with your other, gasping for breath. 

“Your grandmotherly days are already here, Y/N,” he snorts, and earns a kick on the shin, but that doesn’t stop him from bursting into snickers.

“Wow, why does one man need 4 mirrors?” You gape at his current green room, mouth wide open. It looks better than your entire apartment, with the counter carrying top-of-the-line makeup products. Only the best for this man. “So you can admire yourself from 4 different angles?”

Jin has disappeared into one of the inner rooms, but you can hear him snort at your comment. “Come on, I’m not that conceited. When the whole crew shoots together, the extra mirrors help.” The last part of that sentence is muffled, and that cues you into an important fact. 

Jin is currently changing into something more comfortable.

A process that includes him getting naked.

Well maybe he doesn’t get fully naked, top on, top off, bottom on, bottom of-

Still. You’re sweating like a whore in church. 

And things only get tougher when he finally comes out. 

The ocean blue sweater he dons is tucked in. Who tucks in sweaters? Kim Seokjin. Why does he tuck sweaters? Oh, because he’s got an amazing waistline that he should most definitely show off, and the heat between your thighs becoming increasingly potent is a testament to that. You pretend to adjust your heels, giving the right expressions to show you’re in pain, but in actuality you are bringing your legs closer to get you some relief, just any relief. 

Ripped jeans too. You get a peek of the thighs you were denied access to the night of the fuckening. Ridged and beautiful, not a speck in sight to mar his perfection. You are glad the facial expressions for pain and pleasure are not far apart, because your thighs, albeit very lacking, are helping the imagery in your head. Just Jin, seated on one of these leather chairs, and you straddling his thigh, clit aching against the strands of the rips in his denim, the fabric soaking up the wetness, with every push forwa-

“Now that you mention it, I do look dashing.”

And there goes that dream. 

You pinch his cheeks in adoration, the vulgarity of your thoughts getting whitewashed by his silliness and blooming heart-shaped flowers in their stance. You feel your own pinch in you, wondering if this scene would be the same had you blurted your feelings out that day at the cafe.

It's times like these when you remind yourself why you choose to quieten that side. This dynamic cannot reincarnate in any other form. Any imbalance to this equilibrium could cause a serious case of best-friends-turn-awkward-acquaintances, and you don’t know if that’ll hurt you more than you currently do. You don’t plan on finding out.

But on God, he tests that resolution every single day.

Jin doesn’t even hint that he knows of the turmoil blasting behind your eyes. He nonchalantly fixes his hair, gives you a one-over as you are mentally undressing him, nonchalantly as well. Then he moves to grab his cologne, and two spurts disintegrates all the whitewashing and takes you back into the obscenities you were unfolding. 

“So I’ll just go over the shoot photos, and then we can leave! You’re cool waiting here?”

“Hmmn, yeah!” You don’t let your mouth run any longer, fearing what might slip out. 

He gives you a wide, innocent smile. “Great! See you in a bit.” Poor guy. If only he knew how debase plans you were conjuring just from the aroma of his cologne. 

It is musky, like cedar or pine, perfectly suiting him. It is the same scent you remember inhaling, face stuffed in his sweater when he was fingering you to the tenth circle of hell. As he walks away, the fragrance diminishes, save for the slightest hint of lingering. You search for the source, and find the culprit strewn across the sofa.

The outfit Jin wore for the shoot held remnants of the perfume, and when you bring the shirt close and take a long, deep whiff, you transport yourself to the land of your dreams. You relish the fever smell of his cologne, mixed with his own natural scent, deciding that this is what you wish to smell like every waking morning.

Your longing for him has crossed way beyond physical boundaries. You longed for his love, longed for his attention. Longed to be the one that brings the light to his face. From morning rays to the darkness of the night, you wanted to experience it all by his side. To be his lone star, shining bright beside the moon. 

Your hands are moving without your control, disrobing you of your thirst trap of a dress and putting on Jin’s shirt instead. One look at the mirror and you let out a silent groan - it fits you just right. Just enough to cover your ass cheeks, loose enough to let the air conditioning hit your heated pussy. While well-fitting shirts have never been the cornerstone of a successful relationship, your delusional mind takes whatever wins it gets.

Adding layers to your pipe dream, you don the robe that gave you a tough time throughout the shoot. When you press the tails of the robe to your cheek, the softness of the material is soothing. Soft, like Jin’s eyes, like his hugs, like his smile. Like him.

Leaning against the counter, you steady yourself, mind split in titillation. Your fingers find their own path, drawing circles on your breasts over his shirt, imagining Jin’s long fingers in place. While teasing your nipple to pointed peaks, you slip your other hand under your panties, trying very hard to mimic his digits, twiddling your clit between your fingers. Alas, the effect isn’t achievable, because Jin seems to know how to play you better than yourself. 

The scent is getting stronger, without any provoking, and it is doing wonders for your immersion. You let out a loud moan when your fingers press inside, and you’re just glad no one can witness this.

“Y-Y/N?”

Fuck.

You are pulled away from your dreamland that was so impenetrable that you didn’t hear Jin step into the room. All the blood gushing to your nether regions has made a U-turn to flood your brain to think of a plausible explanation for this position. Instead it makes you giddy, and when you try to stand you wobble in your heels, to be rescued by what you think is a very scandalized Jin. 

Time stands still when your eyes meet, and what you see are blown out pupils trembling, many questions fluttering between you two. Jin crosses a tenth of the distance between you, lips flutter as they try to make a decision - do they want to part and give way to the voice of question? The voice of reason? The voice that will break this hush, burst this bubble where he has the one chance to give in to his longing?

You bring your lips closer, and cause immense disquiet in his dome, the way of his heart gathering speed against rationale. Your eyes dance between matching his gaze and finding his lips, every fraction of an inch you cross sending tremors through you. You can feel the shockwaves traverse through your body, making a pitstop at your lips, tingling them awake. They move downwards, passing your heart, beating it wildly against its cage, and then to the pit of your stomach to tighten in anticipation; finally reaching the tip of your toes, where you stand right now, a nanoscopic distance between you. Each one of you is afraid to cross the bridge, unaware of the other’s desires. 

Finally, Jin acqueises and meets you on your side. 

Atomic explosions ring through your head, clearing out every single thought that is not about Jin’s lips on yours. The ropes that held your heart from beating to the tune of your want, they’ve loosened their knots to give you the leeway to love freely. As your lips exchange positions, his teeth lightly drag across your plush petal, and it brings back the most important part of that night that you couldn’t recollect - the one where his lips sang wordless songs of adoration against yours. Blind as a bat, you were.

You dig your fingers into his hair, not minding your residual arousal coating his locks, and you feel his hands doing the same to you. With your eyes closed, you feel a rough edge to his cushiony soft lips, but Jin fixes that mistake - one stray strand of hair trapped in the middle of your indulgence - he pulls it away to give you all of the kiss. The hand tucked in your tresses pushes in, silently demanding more access, and you’re nothing but ready to give it.  

His tongue sneaks in to play a game with yours - when you seek it, it goes into hiding, finding perfect pleasure in soft, sweet kisses, but when you stay, it comes back in, awakening your tongue to deepen again. Everything he is doing is too much and not enough in one go, and you whine into his mouth in desperation, seeking some well-earned relief after months of holding back.

Amidst the flurry of your lips, your back hits the vanity countertop, and Jin pushes away everything on top to make space for you, not caring what expensive item flies down the counter to accommodate your ass.

As if you’ve made up for the months of holding back, the softness of the kisses erodes, teeth coming into play more and more, reminiscent of the night that went by in a blur. He swallows every mewl you give in return, blissed out beyond repair, your neediness making his cock strain against the denim. 

His hand snakes down, spreading his fingers to get a hold of your back to push you towards him, covering any gap that dared to intervene. Now unworried about the shoot, your hands have effectively ruined his perfectly placed locks and messed them up to resemble the craze he let you spin in.

Before he can glide his tongue back in, you break the kiss, lest you lose yourself in it to the point where you forget to breathe. With attached foreheads, you take deep drags of air, letting the oxygen flow to your brain before you make some ill-advised, unclarified decisions.

“I- I was jus-”

“Shhh. Wait,” he breathes out, wanting to take a second and fully savor the moment. You nod in return, making his head move along with yours.

After sufficient air fills his lungs, Jin starts. “Y/N, we should stop.”

Last time this had happened, you had tried to force your way through his barrier, without giving his feelings a second of consideration. So this time, you don’t repeat your mistakes. “Tell me why.”

“Because, I don’t know what you’re looking for, but I’m way deeper in this than you think.”

“Jin, I-”

“Let me finish.” He stops you before you can explain how much you reflect his emotions, possibly more. He doesn’t seem to want to listen now. “Let me finish, or else I’ll chicken out, for the millionth time.”

You’re dumbfounded. Millionth time? When was the first? Acting majors, by God. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

No, now you are dumbfounded. Your hands, holding his precious locks, drop down in shock, at sheer disbelief that all this time, he has been ready and waiting to return you the favor. Jin though, misinterprets it as a look of disdain. 

“I-I know I do, and I’m sorry that I do. I know you don’t feel the same way. You can hate me all you want, but this is the truth.”

“And yes,” he continues, refusing to halt for even half a second, afraid that the courage he mustered to confess would dissipate the moment he does, “I’m attracted to you, and I don’t know what went down here --” flicking his wrist to mention your (his) outfit, “--but I’m looking, okay? And I’m hard as fuck. But that’s not all there is to it.”

“I need all of you.” He takes an audible gulp, trying to stymy his emotions from overpowering him. “I want to take you out, I want to hold you hand, I want to bring you to all the places I love. I want to introduce you to people, not as my best friend, but so much more than that. It hurts me,” bringing his hand to his chest, he emphasizes the point of pain by clutching over his heart, “hurts to call you that because I’m lying through my fucking teeth.”

You break eye contact, because there are tears smarting your eyes at his heartfelt revelation. You can’t believe the idiot that you have been all this while. The man of your dreams stands in front of you, baring his soul, and you can’t even do him the decency of telling him what you felt yourself before jumping his bones.

And you love him, too. Maybe you haven’t said so, even to yourself, but you’ve known all this while.

You love him.

“If you are just looking for a fuck, or want any sort of a ‘benefits’ situation, we should stop. I can’t lie to myself anymore.”

“Jin, my God,” you half-sigh, half-laugh, feeling a burden lift off of you after months of pining.

“You don’t have to pacify me, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” Even in this moment, he is looking out for you. His lips are curved upward to show you that he’s okay, but his pupils are shaky and restless, not in sync with his smile. You hope your next words can fix that for him.

“Pacify you? Hate you?” You shoot him an incredulous look, one you will explain to him very soon. “You are a much better person than I am, Jinnie. For months now, I’ve loved you, but even at this point, I didn’t stop to tell you.” The guilt of letting your hormones cloud your judgement for the second time lays heavily on your conscience. “I’m sorry for not making this clear earlier, but let me now. I love you, Kim Seokjin. I have for way too long. I want you, I need you. You have me, in every possible way.”

It feels unparalleled to get that off your chest. The leaden weight of your emotions immediately disappears - or the fact that it's shared, makes it much, much lighter. But then you look at Jin, and he still seems to have not put two and two together. You patiently wait for him to process all the information. 

When he finally recoups, he yells, “What?!”

You let out a loud guffaw, the first one with no inhibitions in the longest time. “What?”

“Why didn’t you say anything that day at the cafe?!” 

“You said you’d never date me, asshole!” You punch his chest softly, before slipping your hands behind him and pulling him closer. “I might not look like it, but I have some dignity.”

“I said that?” Jin brings one hand to pinch his nose in annoyance. “What an idiot. I think I was just inverting everything to make sure I don’t accidentally slip up.”

You lift your head to meet his eyes again, letting him see the tears you were hiding. You find a couple in his eyes, too. But the smile on your face is genuine, and that is all that matters. “I was blind too, so don’t beat yourself up about it.” 

Flitting your eyes down to find the contour of his cock against his jeans, you ask him innocently, “How about we make up for lost time?”

“Fuck, yes, please.” And with that, your lips are engulfed again.

When you have all your guards down, the kiss tastes sweeter than before. Mere moments ago, while thoroughly enjoying the kiss, a sense of reticence had clouded your pleasure, holding you back from luxuriating in the headiness. A series of what-ifs had plagued your subconscious without your realization, but with all that cleared, you wholly submit to the kiss, emptying your mind until nothing but his name remains.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Jin gasps out, when you bite into his pillowy lower lip, “I thought you looked the prettiest in the dress earlier but,” after pulling away, he drinks your current attire in, “you look the most beautiful in this.”

You snicker. “Even more than World Wide Handsome?”

His eyes bore into yours, no hint of the joking lilt he always carries in them. 

“So much more.”

Your hands find their place amidst his shaggy hair again, and you lodge his face into your neck - a command Jin acquiesces to with great pleasure. After a long, wet lick to your collarbone, he lays feather-soft kisses on the trail he left, starting from your shoulder and working inward, until he brushes against the back of your ear. You grasp at his sweater, because his lips feel so good. Your breaths are short, sucking in every time he allows your skin the luxury of a soft peck.  Once he lays a kiss on your forehead, he brings his gaze down to one of the main reasons that causes his cock to stir.

“Fuck, look at your nipples under my shirt.”

Gazing down, you can see the two pointed peaks that caught Jin’s eyes. 

“That tends to happen when I’m thinking of you.” 

He twists a nipple over the shirt, hardening it further, and you throw your head back in the satisfying pain. “Yeah, I remember.”

You are unraveling every second, the ache swishing amongst the bliss his fingers are bringing in you. He’s switched over to drawing circles around your nipple, until he snaps and tugs your shirt up, finally revealing the palmfulls of flesh awaiting his hands. 

“Ah that night, I didn’t get to do this. Take this off.” But then, he makes you put on his robe again. You throw him a questioning look, to which he responds with a sheepish smile, “Just so, you know… you don’t feel cold… or something.”

“Just say you like me in your clothes and move on.”

“I love you in my clothes,” he admits in a heartbeat, his expression that of anguish, “can we move on?”

“God, gladly.”

Unexpectedly, he bites the side of your boob - not hard at all, but feeling his teeth against your skin sends your head reeling backward. Your involuntary response is to wrap your legs around his waist, grinding your core against him. His teeth continue to nip you lightly across the expanse of your breasts, the trail of saliva he leaves cooling parts of your flushed body. Finally, finally, he latches onto your left nipple and gives it a long, pleasurable suck.

“Ahh, Jin - you’re too - God damn it - you’re too good at this.” 

Without stopping the onslaught he is unleashing on your breasts, his fingers begin to move - but soon, they stop, hesitation rippling off of their tips. His pace falters, and his mind is fighting on the next course of action.

“Can I-”

“Finish what you started that night?” you complete for him, already prepared with your answer. “Yes, please.”

All forms of uncertainty shoot out of his touch, and he confidently trudges forward. Playing with the band of your panties, he gives you a well-intended chuckle, murmuring, “As far as I remember, I was so good you passed out.”

“Boy,” You groan, intended in jest, but his teeth slide against your jaw and it mostly comes out more wanton than jovial, “let me see you have tequila for dinner and remember much the next day.”

“Fair fair,” he gives in, shifting to buss the valley of your cleavage, feeling your heart thud against your ribs holding it in place. “Well today,” he starts without moving his face, his nimble fingers moving past the barrier of your underwear, pressing two fingertips directly on your clit, and hissing like it's him at the receiving end, “I’ll give you enough to remember.”

You pull his sweater off and chuck it away, not wanting to be reminded of any blockades that kept you apart, and your hands roam the expanse of his back remembering the touch of his skin from the night at the bar. His body isn’t new to you, but the circumstances make it feel different. 

Finally, his fingers find their way inside you. 

Yes, this. This was what was missing from your drunken tryst. With your heads in place, your ardor intensifies, and you move his lips back to yours needing to release your animalistic desire into his mouth. Pleasure surges through both of you as you threaten to swallow him whole.

You can feel him being more present, and considering the merciless finger-fucking you had earned that night, this is taking it to a whole other degree. 

The night at the bar, his fingers did their best to ravish you, but now, Jin is paying attention, close attention to the way you respond. Every muscle movement is recorded in him as you struggle to accommodate three of his lengthy digits. Leaning close, he gives your peaked nipple the lightest feather lick - the suddenness sends shockwaves through you as he continues to tweeze the other, talented pianist hands performing his musical piece on both ends of you.

His fingers pump into you with determination, finding new depths to explore that he missed out on, and with a curl of his pointer, you blank out, screaming in the orgasm that is washing over you. Every skincell of your body feels the quiver of lust spreading, your cunt squeezing for an eternity, milking the orgasm out to the extent that you can. 

When you look down, your metaphorical orgasmic flood manifestes as a deluge of your arousal leaking on the table. And when you look back up, you can see the salacious ideas making their rounds in Jin’s head as he looks at the inundation you released. 

Hurried hands still convulsing from the intensity of your orgasm, you undo his belt, followed by his jeans and finally - getting the pleasure you were heartlessly denied of - his cock is out, in all its glory, twitching as the cool air hits its naked skin. Jin’s plans don’t go hand in hand with yours though.

“Are we just - holy fucking shit - just, umm, leave that to waste?” he lustfully looks down to your leaking core, and someway, through your hold on his dick, he tries to steer you into his plans.

“I don’t know about that,” you cheekily reply. You have the right idea to satisfy both of you, and get down to the task.

With the flat of your palm, you swipe across the droplets of cum you released, gathering them to transfer them onto his thick length. Jin thrusts into your hand, the wetness jolting him into attention, and he places an arm on your shoulder to steady himself. 

“You’re going to taste yourself?” he asks as you continue your vacillating motion, twisting at the base of his head with the wetness you graciously provided yourself. You give him a nonchalant look, something he is trying to do to you as well. 

“Who said I’m gonna suck you off?”

His look changes, and the one you get in return is cocky, arrogant, downright rude if you were honest. You expected him to play on with your banter, but one raised eyebrow and the lazy smirk he gives, to what he probably thinks is a joke - Zeus could land on earth and not be able to stop you from gobbling his meat. 

Your mouth is filled with his dick even before your knees hit the ground. Jin staggers back, but your suction on his dick is funnily strong enough to pull him back before falling.  You switch positions, having him balance himself against the counter, all while you refuse to leave his cock out. His giggle of endearment has you pouting, but it swells your heart and makes you want to give more, more of anything and everything. With your renewed vigor, you push yourself in until his pubes tickle your nose, and his tip tickles your throat. 

“Your-”, “I-”, “uhh-” 

Every new sentence Jin starts crumbles to your actions. You furrow your brows both in concentration on your blowing skills and trying to decode what he is trying to say. 

Jin takes a large gulp, adamant on making this one a coherent sentence. “You know, I used to imagine this, and in my dreams I used to be very sexy and suave, talking my way throug-oof-” You run your tongue over the tip of his leaking dick, emphasizing the point he is coming to, “Now I can’t even complete sentences here.”

“You being you is super sexy in itself.” And you curve your tongue to match the arch of his cock, letting the incoming saliva pool on it before letting it run down his shaft, dripping down from his balls. Strings of his precum connect to your lips, and you swipe your tongue through them, relishing the salty goodness before going back in for more. 

“Y/N, shit, did you just moan?”

How couldn’t you? The fact that he is horny for you, so much so that rivulets of precum don’t stop drizzling down your throat, has you preening. You hum your assent in response, not willing to let go even for a moment, but Jin pulls you off before you can get a chokehold on the base of his cock again. 

“Never had a woman moan while sucking me off. It’s sexy as fuck,” Jin breathes into your lips as he dives in for a kiss.

Your chest is heaving, catching the breaths you lost when you were down. “Then why’d you stop me?”

“Are you kidding me? I was about to lose it right there.”

“Jinnie, come on,” you break the fragmentary kiss you were sharing, looking into his glassy eyes, “let me feel you come on my tongue.” To emphasize your conviction, you lick his lips, persuading him of the sinful deeds your tongue is capable of doing if he’d just let you.

“Oh man, stop. What’s worse than busting a nut in your mouth? Busting it while you’re kissing me. Making me feel like a teenager.” You erupt into a loud laugh, soon followed by Jin as well. It is so him to joke about this. 

“And babe,” all hints of embarrassment vanishing from his tone, “I’m only going to come inside you.”

“Fuck, fuck, yes. You got a condom on you?”

“Yeah, let me grab my wallet.” The instant he moves away, you feel naked, shivering from the comfort stolen away from you. But then you hear Jin grumble, “I hope I don’t have the bacon-flavored one.” And the absurdity of it all puts you at ease again.

“Ew, stop, even you can’t make that sexy. My lady boner is dying.”

He envelops you again, and you can feel the laughter echoing in his lungs before making it out to your ears. He brings your attention to the familiar rustle of foil wrapper. “Thankfully, we got chocolate.”

“Mmmh, gotta love chocolate.”

You take the condom out of his hands, and roll it onto his stiff length, flattered that he’s holding his erection for so long. 

“Okay, stick it in me!” And you smack your ass in readiness, and a very flabbergasted Jin breaks out chortling.

“Y/N, stop being my best friend for like, five minutes!” His brows are furrowed in pretense exasperation, but you can see his lips holding back a genuine smile through the grimace, just happy that your dynamics haven’t changed the slightest, even though everything else has shifted.

“Okay okay,” you try and suppress your own laughter, before continuing, “how do you want me, baby?”

“Bend over on the vanity. And keep your eyes on the mirror.” And as you move into position, his palms grab your ass and squeeze it hard, feeling your glutes push back against his grip, and he pushes you forward till you're on the tips of your toes. You watch him through the mirror, watch him admire the way your ass curves over the table edge, how your toes struggle to keep you up, and how the dimples of your back are deepened by the arch, peeking under the bunched up robe tails, just waiting for him.

“Jin.” Your hushed whisper puts him in action.

Pushing the head in is anguish and relief at the same time. His bulbous head stretches your entrance; even with your preparation, you feel it sting. The searing gets better and better with every inch slipping in, and when he finally lodges inside, you let out a heavy breath, still panting and keeping yourself from screaming bloody murder in pleasure. Jin bends forward to paint the back of your neck, sucking the flesh till the circular bruise comes to surface. 

“Can you- can you-fuck, no, wait-” Your brain is at war with itself, battling between adjusting to his girth and having him pump you into adjustment. 

You can feel Jin’s snicker from behind you, and he finally makes the decision for you. “I’ll wait, I have things to do here,” he says before playing around the patch of skin, spreading from the base of your hair to the expanse of your back, his teasing licks relaxing your walls and accommodating his girth. The pain is almost gone, expect for the lingering ache that only helps you.

“You can move now, babe.”

“Okay, okay.” Your words snap him out of the painter’s dream he was in, and he twitches inside you. Something about the ease at which you both have adopted nicknames for each other softens his heart and hardens his cock. 

Pulling out till only the head rests inside, Jin himself struggles against the third degree grip your pussy has on him. As he is thrusting inside again, your walls tense up, making it harder and harder for him to hold back. 

“Y/N, sweetie, relax. I got you.”

“Jin, I’m-” You have tears running down your eyes, the pleasure and unsurmountable happiness rolling out in fat hot drops. “Fuck me harder. I won’t last.”

“Shit. Okay, hold on then.”

To what? Is what you’re going to ask before Jin unleashes his carnality onto you. Your breasts, dripping in sweat and saliva, are plastered to the countertop, which in itself is jiggling to the beat of Jin’s thrusts. His dick is curving inside to hit you repeatedly, and you have to gather the satin fabric to wipe your eyes to keep your gaze fixed on him. 

He looks majestic. Forehead embellished with beads of sweat, his hair coiffed up, lips sanguine red after your vicious kisses - you swipe your tongue along your own lips to find them battered in response. His honey chest is heaving with every push, and a particular one hits you just right. 

You let out a guttural groan, and Jin takes note of it immediately. 

“Up,” he commands, and loops an arm under your belly to you pull you up and closer and now every thrust hits deeper into that spot he has found in you, your back connected to his chest as the two of you move in tandem; this is the most together you’ve ever felt with anyone. This moment is to be etched in your memories forever.

You scream into your fist to muffle the sounds, the edge of the table digging into your hip bone as you feel yourself getting closer to the brink. One swipe to the clit is all you have left to bring you to your release. 

And from some telepathic force, or from the clutch your pussy has on him, Jin beats you to it. His fingers come down and carefully find your swollen nub, pinching it between his fingers. If he thought you’d shown him your hardest clench, he was wrong, because right now your dam has broken, and the iron-clad grip you give his cock sends him reeling, too.

You are gushing on his dick, the rubber dripping with your wetness. Jin too releases into the condom in stuttered gasps, his thrusts becoming shorter and shallower as he comes down from his high. 

Petal-like kisses fall on your back as the two of you regain your breaths. The mirror that served you two well is covered in a fog of hot breath and perspiration, blearing your vision of yourself, but somehow, it sparkles with Jin’s reflection. His nobility-esque visuals use the haze as a valance for his appearance, framing them to make him look like you’re among the clouds. And in some way, you actually are.

“Ah, let me go.” You jiggle your shoulders back to make the man above you move. “Fuck, can you check if my spine is in place? I think you dislodged it.”

“Shut up and come hug me, I’ll squeeze it back in place.”

Now this is something you could get used to.

As he ties and throws away the used condom, you flip over to face him and fall back into his embrace, broad shoulders promising to protect you, making you feel safe in his care. Jin on the other hand is simply ecstatic to feel you on him, feeling your thumping heart beat for him, after months of pining and pondering whether anything would become of the seed of your tumultuous friendship. Now, it has blossomed to a garden of prospect and promise, every petal of every flower here reading a new opportunity to tell you how much he adores you, cherishes you, treasures you. How much he loves you.  An opportunity he doesn’t wait to use. 

“I love you.”

The pink tinge of your cheeks either comes from the sex, or from his comment, but either way, he is glad its from him. 

“I love you too, Jin. So, so very much.”

If your heart could leap out of your chest, it would do so, to find its way to his and fuse into one. But for now, your entwined bodies give you all you want. 

You hear Jin stifle a laugh, and pull back in question. He points to something odd on the countertop.

“What is that?”

The cream white surface of the table, that was maligned by your ignoble deeds, now sports two glistening, wheatish semi circles that look very similar to the sizes of one person who was splayed on top of it just moments ago. 

“Is that…” Jin is trying to contort his lips and halt the looming snicker, and he brings his eyes down to your chest (trying not to get hard again), “Did you have makeup on your chest?”

“Shut up.” All you can do is fall closer into his arms, hopefully masking the tint of embarrassment highlighting the apples of your cheeks. “I wanted to make them look extra good for you.”

He’s given up on holding back, the full-bellied laugh that resonated from him echoing across the room. But it dwindles down fast, coming to small chuckles of tenderness, and he slips his digits beneath your chin to have you meet his gaze.

“They always look good,” he whispers, his admittance setting your chest aflame, “trust me, I’d know.”

Taglist 💛:  @little7bitchh​, @afangirllikeme-blog​, @h34rt1lly, @marpotterhead​

Thank you so much for making it to the end! I hope you enjoyed the fic, my ask box is always open for your lovely opinions. To read more of my work, find my main masterlist here. :)

[michimichim]

in-dee-ca | rosé

disclaimer: dom!fem!poc reader x sub!roseanne, substance use, semi exhibitionism, etc.

improved version

the church bells chime a brassy and insistent sound; an ear-splitting, melody you still struggle to get accustomed to as you leave the bustling building. your friends fall into step with you and together you trudge down the steps of assembly hall, hands in the pockets of your school blazer while they chortle with laughter.  

a shiver wracks over your body as the breeze drifts into your hair and frost your cheeks.

“honestly,” it’s one of your closest friends who speaks up, “what does ‘stricter regulations’ even mean? as if the school doesn’t already have a stick up its ass.”  

“it means open up your books for once, dipshit.” jennie, a senior and representative on the school board, snides as she brushes past you along some of her friends busy trailing after, hot on her heels.  

you bite back a laugh whilst a ruckus of guffaws resonate around your small crowd.  

“fuck off, kim.” your friend shouts after her, eyes rolling in nothing but annoyance, however their expression remain soft. they watch jennie’s retreating form before resting their eyes on something behind you. “here comes miss sunshine.” or rather, someone.

you spare a glance over your shoulder, an agitating feeling erupting in the pit of your stomach when your eyes fall on a familiar sight. she's surrounded by a total of three girls, all tittering as they saunter up the steps of the assembly hall. the dark red and blue of the school uniform brings out the peachy color of her skin, singling her out from the small crowd that’s assembled around. picture perfect she is with her plaid skirt hiked up. all pretty, pale thighs and slender legs. eyes naturally veer her way; she always seems to capture everyone’s attention, and it wasn’t solely due to her father being the headmaster, but rather the vivacious and nonpartisan aura she constantly carries around.  

roseanne is the epitome of natural beauty. some still whisper about her loose hair and ruddy cheeks, and stout red lips, and lithe slender body that never seems to walk but rather float through the walls. she's perfect in every sense, the type of perfect that draws in boys and girls alike, girls like yourself.  

as if sensing the heat of your gaze, her eyes flicker to yours and you stare back, eyes unwavering, challenging her to glance away first with a slight cock to your eyebrow. doe orbs scale down your body – syrupy and casual posture leaning against chilly stairs; it gives you an air of nonchalance – in such swift manner it might have never occurred, but attention from roseanne park could never be forgotten. dulce creamed, dreamy eyed with stars in her nebulas roseanne could never be forgotten. she averts her attention back to her friends.

“what’s it with you and the park girl?” it's someone else that speaks up near you, voice tinged with nothing but curiosity.  

you turn to face them; their eyes seem to trickle with a mix of wonder and apprehensiveness.

you shrug in a dismissal manner, “nothing.” you hate denying it, but you learned to be discreet even when the questioning comes from your friends. even when you despised their questioning. even when you despised them for attributing you a role – one that doesn’t include roseanne in it, the golden girl who knows everything, does everything right. you disdain it and so does she.

the conversation lapses into one of silence and your friends say nothing else, some assess you before emitting out a low hum and dropping the topic.  

you tune them out, distracted, as your attention returns to her, the latter’s laughing along to something – could be anything, really. it's not hard to get her laughing. you return your gaze to your friends and stand up. “i’ll text you.” you throw over your shoulder, willing an apologetic smile on your lips as you trade down the stoned stairs.

-

the sun’s seeping through the arched windows, a kaleidoscope of warm and golden light gushing out over your bodies, tangling with roseanne’s blonde locks. the room she pulled you in belongs to an abandoned and obsolete west wing of the school. no one actually comes here; it has been forgotten, gradually, by its founders until room 144 became nothing but a discarded memory. something close yet hidden.  

the furniture around you is covered with white silky material, gently flapping from the frigid breeze sipping through the cracked open window.  

your hand absently brushes up and down her smooth thigh, drawing arbitrary patterns; she's delicate under the pad of your fingers, a skin so silk angels would exchange for their wings. the hem of her blue plaid skirt is sitting higher than it ought to, her blouse unbuttoned lower than the hall surveillants would ever permit, and between her lithe fingers, something her father would pop a vein over – she’s at her best here with you. your rosie who plays the sweetest of melodies with your heartstrings.  

the sound of fluttering pages fills the cracks of the comfortable silence and she shifts, her legs twirling down over your lap, shoes swiftly thrown off and her gaze, unknown to you, flicks towards your face. she calls you by your nickname, head tilted, exposing the slim curve of her neck as she releases a blanket of smoke through the cherry glossed curve of her lips.  

“hm?” you hum in response and with one hand, the other effectively occupied with multitasking where they usually reside, turn the page of your book.  

a laugh escapes the sheen of her lips. “i'm sensing some sexual tension between you and that book, am i interrupting?”  

the side of your face ticks up into a half-grin, warmth infiltrating your ribcage and through your chest. you glance up from your novel, “kinda,” you tease, eyes softening into a warmer hue once they connect with pools of deep, hypnotizing browns. “mind giving us a moment?”    

“ha. ha." the corner of her lips curve upwards, sarcastic, as she removes the blunt from her parted lips. she sits up and slide over the wooden floor, much closer to you and the substantial, sweet floral aroma of her jasmine and basil fragrance mingles with the herbal scent of weed as she hands the joint over.  

“your mother was the one to assign this to me, you know.” you slump your weight against the soft beige wall, holding the blunt between your lips, before taking a drag out of it, inhaling, holding and releasing it through parted lips.  

“of course she did,” roseanne replies, vexation beneath the delicate pastel shade of her words. you abstain from calling attention to it because here, golden girls like roseanne shouldn't feel anything synonym to anguish. golden girls like roseanne have everything, so why would there ever be a fold between her brows? here, golden, beautiful girl roseanne never has anything but euphonious laughter.  

but the glint of sport in her eyes never wavers, so casting the book aside, you resort to laying a comforting hand on her thigh because you know the golden girl with saccharine smiles, the one who evoke tropical storms in your chest is solid bones and perfect imperfections in a sea of deceptive beings.    

“what’s it about?” she adds, her fingers stringing with yours as the syllables overflow on her smiling lips. her smile, all-too-familiar, whirs something up your spine and her touch seems to burn into your palm, through the cracks of your fingers.    

you take a drag, holding it until it burns, and pass it back to her, “charles duhigg,” your hands never part as you reply, a blanket of smoke slipping out. “the science behind habit, creation and reformation.”    

“so, tell me,” she quips, rustling, inching closer, all hot breath and intoxicating perfume, the tip of her ears crimsoning when you maintain eye contact, “would you rather kiss charles duhigg or, me?”    

"roseanne," you taunt good-naturedly, a laugh looming around to waver your lips. "are you jealous of a forty-something-year-old?"  

you follow her eyes fluttering down to your lips, sharp and wanton. she breathes in another hit then says, "can you blame me for wanting all the attention?"

she wraps her lips around the opaque blunt once more, the scene arbitrarily sinful but then, rather than inhaling it, she cradles your jaw and hovers your lips. exhaling her breath into your willing mouth; it's undoubtedly one of the hottest things you’ve ever witnessed, and if possible, it heightens the smoke wafting in your gut with a coiling warmth.  

“there’s no way i can blame you when you’re pulling shit like this.” you breathe out, slightly dazed from the smoke or her. you don’t really know. 

“i know,” she whispers, several beats too late, breath ghosting atop your lips until they’re meeting in a smooth plash of lips, fluttering lashes and warm breaths.  

the second roseanne’s tongue presses into your mouth, light and pliant and sweet-tasting of hot chocolate, imbued with the smoky aftertaste, you float through a state of euphoria. your hands linger down to the soft curve of her ass, squeezing. you can’t resist the urge, sticking a resounding slap on the round of her ass, loving the surprised moan that’s torn out of her.

she captures your bottom lip into her mouth, teeth toying with the flesh and something about that is thoroughly gratifying to you, as is her quiet pant against your mouth when you draw away – dizzy from lungs running out of air, she pecks your lips a final time before shifting back.  

she sinks herself comfortably between your legs again, perched on your lap while you continue passing the second joint back and forth. as it shortens in size, you grow more physical. your hand never leaves her ass, ghosting over the silken lace of her underwear. roseanne is not far off; she sighs under every single one of your touches, hands threading down through the collar of your shirt, nails roaming up and down your back, scratching lightly at the plains of your shoulder blades.  

you take two to four more hits, you think, you’re not too sure. you've lost count because now the haziness in your head is growing stronger, the sounds are softly intertwining with themselves that you have to haul her closer by the waist as to anchor yourself and think.  

“you think,” you clear your throat, trying to swallow down the dryness. “you think we could order something to eat?”  

roseanne turns her head languidly from the tiny spirals of smoke wafting in the air, her eyes fleeting to yours following a couple of seconds. she peeps at you, “mmhm," she utters. "i guess. well, yeah, it would make sense ... right?" and she titters.  

after holding a straight face and retaining the roach (that you still haven’t noticed has been extinguished) for a few moments, contemplating, “rosie,” you let out a stifled laugh suddenly, like a blend between a snort and a chortle. “you really think the delivery guy, like, the car … can get up here?”  

your bones feel weightless. like you’re soaring, there's nowhere else you'd rather be, and every bone in your body is at ease for the first time today. roseanne shakes with gentle laughter, cradling the scrap of the joint in her hands like religion and setting it aside, next to your knees. 

she clumsily knocks the ashtray over, cursing. it's too endearing, you can’t help but mirror her accent, giggling when she pouts and steady herself from falling as you dissolve into a weed-induced puddle of laughter, stomach shaking, fighting a new hurricane of giggles herself. you just have a way of imitating her accent that is almost uncanny.  

“asshole,” she leans her body into yours, pressing your chests together, feeling yours lift against hers. she then stretches her hand to descend the tip of her nail down your collar.    

“your one and only.” you drawl, drawing in a long, faint breath.  

the warmth hasn’t left your body still, it seems to be making its way from your chest to the rest of your being. you tip your head back so it’s resting on the back of the furniture, eyes lazily drifting over to the window. outside, the sky is clear, a stunning tone of cantaloupe, the sun about sitting so low in the sky it dazzles you through the clefts of the buildings and canopy of trees. this place has become your favorite; it’s all just so peaceful and beautiful here, away from the day-to-day activities.  

you're feeling the floor below you stir like you’re in one of those massage chairs at the mall, combating the inexpressible comfort of roseanne’s weight on you and the sudden mass of your eyes – it wouldn’t be the first time you fall asleep right after smoking. usually, you'd instantly pass out to the steadfast rise and fall of her heartbeat, and she’d follow suit, curling in on herself against your chest.  

“this weed is,” the sway of her voice brings you back from your daydream, “wow.”    

picking your head up and letting the blood rush back down your neck, your brow ridges and you shift, sitting upright and inching closer to gaze into her eyes – they’ve turned a reddish hue, heavy-lidded, but as breath-taking as ever with pools of deep, mesmerizing, mocha brown, and you say, “well, it’s definitely hitting.”

you're becoming increasingly conscious of her nail gliding lower between the top buttons of your white buttoned-up shirt – you don’t recollect exactly when they’ve been popped open, but you don’t have it in you to think long and hard about it. the finger’s tracing the dark bites that have been pressed against the soft mahogany flesh of your skin, progressive shivers creeping up your spine.  

“babe,” she whispers, and it’s the lilt of her voice that makes you glance up at her. when exactly did she pick the blunt back up? the shape her lips make to get those flawless smog rings remind you of the other instances when her mouth’s carved similarly – it’s when she first wraps her lips on your thumb and she teases, tongue swirling around the digit, just playing, taunting. she'd push it in and out of her mouth with suction and with her tongue, she’d bob her head, maintaining your eyes locked through the ordeal. knowing all too well that she's gorgeous with your fingers in her mouth.

“you’re okay to keep going?” she questions, moaning when you bunch her skirt up to press your hands back on the soft, small plump of her ass; they fill both of your hands, moulding back against your palms. you land a kiss on the sweet, red blossomed apple of her cheeks.  

“how can i refuse when i’ve been eyeing this ass all day long,” you murmur, running a hand up, snapping the waistband against her skin. 

that’s all she needs to press her lips against yours.  

you lose yourself completely in how thoroughly your lips effortlessly glide against each other, it turns sweeter, cotton candidly sweeter. then lustful and something entirely more celestial. it could just be the weed accentuating the brush of roseanne’s tongue against yours but you know it would feel almost as good when sober, or even better – you’re not quite sure, each time always feels different than the last.  

“rosie,” you ripple against her lips and she hums, moans mingling for a few moments, your hands gripping up the juts of her waist as she detaches from your lips to start mouthing at the junction of your neck and jaw, teeth scouring down your throat.  

she grips, getting a fistful of your shirt in one hand with the other curving within the heated skin at the base of your neck. your bodies are so close, warm, and she wants to look at you but she’s in some kind of stage where all she aches to do is let her lashes wave shut, so that’s what she does along driving her hips instinctively down against your thigh.  

even through all the layers of clothing between you, you can feel the wetness sliding through the flimsy fabric of her underwear on your bare thigh; the delicious friction of against each other. 

your hands part from her hips to shed your school blazer instead, and roseanne opens her eyes to unbutton her shirt as you grab at yours, unceremoniously yanking it out of your skirt and sliding your palm up the delicate valley of her stomach. hand sliding up further still, you’re cupping, kneading her breasts, bringing an exceptional churning in her gut when one of your thumbs stroke her nipple through the lace. it's off with a quick push of your fingers.  

she stretches out her stomach, feline-like, curves her back and chest out, granting you the sight of her petite breasts as she swivels back and forth back along the length of your thigh. “touch me,” she coos, “please, baby.”

“touch you,” you reiterate, finger tracing the outline of the damp spot lining up her labia. she pushes up her knees to raise herself only the slightest bit higher, “here?” she whines as your touch makes her nerves jump, stroking her lips slowly through the cloth, hoping to further drive her out of her mind.  

slipping your fingers into the hem of her panties, the cloth clings against her sex until you push back against it. you shuffle a little so that you could capture her nipples between your teeth, sucking on the bud. her entire body tenses above yours, arms wrapping around your neck, cradling your head closer to her chest.  

slick is smearing all over your panties, merely from relishing her like she’s a fucking gift from the gods, preening when her hands quaintly smooth over the back of your neck and your fingers play, lazily and easily through her lips.  

she gasps against your ear as your fingers run over her entrance, pressing and teasing, slow and calculated, sliding in the slightest so rose could feel the webbing of your fingers just barely inside of her.

a final tug on her reddened nipple, you withdraw your fingers.

without notice, roseanne’s vision tilts, and she finds herself yelping with her back on the polished, wooden floor with your body hovering hers and a dopey smile adorning your lips. her focus narrows into the manner your eyes dilate – lust and the effects of weed in them. “was that … indica?” you ask, a childlike nature to your voice while sliding her panties down her legs, then yours. you drop them near and kneel before her.  

“i don’t –” she cuts herself, contemplating the fleeting body-warming euphoria that expands through melting and blissful relaxation. “mhm.” she titters, letting the word draw itself out slowly.  

she gives you that look – peering up at you, heavy eyes open and telling as she spreads her legs, revealing parted, wet lips, swollen and pink from what feels like hours of teasing. you stare longingly, pupils blown, squirming and urging to get your mouth to taste her.  

you dip down. roseanne feels the warmth of your breath, and then the first hot touch of your tongue on sensitive skin. she breathes out, tilts her hips up against your mouth, so you move the muscle brusquely, forward at an angle that catches at every lap.  

you’re ridiculously skilled at this; seriously, no one, not even her fingers, knows her body as you do. no one else makes the pleasure overtake her mind as you do, as you flick your tongue and suck on her clit, thoroughly enjoying the way her sweet, even as a salty mix dribbles down your tongue. you're murmuring what sounds like appreciative, sugary words that roseanne can’t entirely make out, she succumbs in the soothing oscillations of it, punctuated by the intervals when you prob and poke with the tip of your tongue. she pushes back into it, chasing the feeling of that tongue gently opening her up, exploring for more.  

then, still feeling quite indolent and mellow, you're nonetheless agile to move, sliding roseanne’s long legs over your shoulders. and with a quick mewl and purr tumbling out of you, you grasp her skirt in the balls of your fist and shove it up her stomach, then gather yours to situate yourself over her glistening lips. the first thrust is everything. she had sealed her eyelids shut again, laid back down and gone docile, allowing you to rut freely against her like – contented with being handled however you like. but when her hips roll up to press back against yours, it startles a moan from you, the sensation of it making both of your bodies sigh.

there's a certain rush; like the one you get when you’re veering the wheels of your bike for the first time, or the one where you’re getting away with something you should not have. this rush is the one currently coursing through your veins, a rush of want that floods through you, feeling almost surreal, rendering you lightheaded. you're almost, almost worried something else was laced in the blunt, but roseanne’s pussy proves powerful for it gently coaxes you out of your anxiety-inducing thoughts.  

they're gone with each thrust sending her body forward. you can’t help speeding and hardening the rolls of your hips in quiet appreciation. each jolt makes her whine and thrill— you have to grit your teeth to not reach your high before hers, intent on coming at the same time. you grind harder onto her, make her feel each thrust— no area of her core left untouched.  

“you look so beautiful, rosie,” you lick your lips, the feeling jubilant. past rapturous you can hardly finish your sentence. "and warm, you’re so fucking warm.”  

chest heaving, her throat’s enticingly on display and you think of wrapping your hands around it to feel the pounding of her pulse – it beats against your fingers, singing in no particular rhythm. but it remains a sound you wouldn’t mind feeling and listening to, over and over again.  

you rub harder into the body lying beneath you, brutal and animalistic, carnal taking up your nature to feel more. the space between your bodies is so wet and she might be unbelievably tight, you regret not doing this at your place so you could fuck the living out of her with one of your straps.  

“—fuck,” you hear her gasping, her nails drilling into the hand wrapped around her neck, “keep going, don’t stop—”  

the wet sounds of your flesh meeting, the grip on her hipbone and your hand roaming all over her body every time you buck against her clit, hard and faster —the more you can’t take your eyes away from the jiggle of her breasts. you stroke your thumb up and down, feeling out the little lump of her thin nipple and her mouth opens in mid-gasp, grasping your ass when her hips give out, lazing prone on the cold wooden floor of the room as your body blankets over hers. your hips don't stop thrusting.  

you're rendered voiceless and utterly reckless, letting natural reactions taking over. the sparkle in your eyes burn for a split-second, then a gut-wrenching moan, cut from deep inside you. roseanne throws her head back, returns travelling on her series of heresies, combined with a bit of praise in the mix. “god, babe, right there … mmm—my fucking god,” she cuts herself off as you almost effortlessly pin her hips down, not enough to hurt, but more in a show of dominance.  

and the release that hits you just never fucking ends; it comes in waves. sober, you’d be surprised at how quick you’ve come, losing your thread altogether, but it only takes four long, premeditated but frantic rolls for you to send yourself in a complete state of a body awakening – it's almost too much to move any more than just the bare minimum – two more to enhance the sensations for both you and roseanne, the latter’s body reacting before her mind could race to a conclusion. her eyes flow open, hands scrambling to clutch your asscheeks tighter when she feels herself pulsing, thrumming and seeing white behind her lids.  

“holy -”  

“fuck.” you finish for her, elbows coming down on either side of her head, so close to collapsing if it wasn’t for the way roseanne’s staring up at you. it's the look of admiration she always gives you when you’ve fucked her just right.  

you kiss down her body – but not without a little slap on her ass. as you lay pecks on her thighs, kiss bruises and marks onto them, you bite and nibble on them, clit twitching at the familiar scent of her dripping heat. it just has that thing that makes you delirious, like alcohol. you give a tentative lick.  

she jerks from over-sensitivity, while her cunt throbs for what is to ensue. walls stretching to accommodate the length and thickness of your fingers slowly entering her, lewd sounds and heat licking deep through her chest. you dip the second digit in earnest, your burning touch only seems to make her core burn with greater need.  

then, in the spirit of simply breaking her, you find her g-spot easily, ramming your fingers into it repeatedly with faultless confidence before pulling away.  

roseanne clenches, whining at the emptiness. being filled just a few seconds ago to feeling friction, to her walls abruptly empty. the pressure inside of her gone, she squirms around trying to find your finger to sink back into her body. she moans, then tries again when all she receives is a giggle, hearing the teasing in your voice, but not possessing the patience to deal with it right now 

... “daddy, please.”  

it comes out breathy —imploring and wanton and you almost shake in rapture.  

“you know i love it when you call me that, rosie,” you come up to murmur against the shell of her ear, words dripping an avid rush of honey. it repels any form of weed-produced laziness that’s taken ahold of your limbs. 

roseanne guides your hand back towards her entrance, gripping down so you can’t move away from her – except, she knows it wouldn’t take much to overpower her, but she does it anyway. she feels the plush push against her walls, then you’re slowly filling her again, setting her nerves ablaze and she let herself cry your name, light curses, whatever comes through her mind out as you rub the spot that makes her toes curl.  

you're gradually lured into snapping your hand, just to wallow in the release of breathy sighs and cries of ‘daddy’ in the crook of your neck that leaves the blonde’s lips every time you force the sound out of her.  

you press your body flush against her form and writhe your fingers in a single-minded purpose inside her dripping entrance. you lick at her pounding pulse and plunge deeper in to make it soar higher and faster than weed ever could. she presses her hands into your shoulders, digging half-crescents into the fragile texture of your skin; clutching for more of your warmth against her.  

with the windows open, people could definitely hear the mundane debauchery taking place right up inside the building. but she simply can’t hold in her moans, despite her best attempts at deadening them. 

body unfurling, as your prodding fingers slides out at her entrance, pressing harder and harder until they slip back inside to hook deeper into her warmth — she sighs and throws her head back, body moving, torso arched, light nipples on opaque skin scrounging for your tongue. however, you’re pre-occupied with sliding in and out of her, kissing the pretty gasps out of her lips.  

your palm hits against her clit each time, her inner muscles beginning to contract and squeeze around your fingers. she's so fucking close, you know it, so before she can start thrashing, you get better leverage. you push one of her legs wider with your knee to get deeper and pump freely inside of her, and the increased volume of her moans send a wave of arousal through you.

the more stimulation to her body causes the buzz to alter in one way or another. her vision is fuzzy as lazy eyes squint up at yours, body like jello that could collapse into a puddle any second. for the briefest instant, it’s almost too much to wrap her head around. it's some sort of fucking extraterrestrial experience, her almost entirely useless brain offers, as it proceeds to liquefy completely, overwhelming orgasm burning down her abdomen like scalding lava, leaving her breathless.  

a while later, when the sun’s stopped blossoming in the sky and a blanket of stars have taken the grace of a breeze over your heads, you’re back in your original position – roseanne straddling your waist, buttermilk hair brushing over her breasts, lissome and comely body draped back in her bra and skimpy panties.  

she leans down and inches her chin forward so she can seal her lips and mouth over yours. she drags her tongue, asking for permission. the taste of your skin, your perfume and scent of your body is intoxicating. the high’s worn off, now she could get drunk from just having her thighs wrapped and caging around you, kissing you for hours on end.  

“hol’ up” then she’s pulling away, before leaning over the side to reach for your bag, procuring a small plastic bag.

you eye her with amusement, “while i don’t mind lighting up another one,” you start, the sweet, nonetheless imposing, concern in your voice is palpable, “grab my sweater first in there.” you nod towards the bag. you've closed the window but the weather is known to seep through bones once blankets of dark clouds had already rolled in.

roseanne smiles and rolls her eyes, dropping to kiss your cheek, then neck, then cheek once more. she has to tear herself away with a fit of laughter when you reach up and get a hand in her milky curls, directing her mouth to yours in a show of biting and toying with the sheen of her lips.

the wool blend of your sweater looks the best on her, it draws down to expose one finely boned shoulder and you wish to paint constellations on the exposed neckline, to dart hot kisses against the silky skin.

you watch, admirably as roseanne uses your abdomen as a workplace to pack the bits of weed into the blunt wrap she had also pulled from your bag. her nimble fingers work everything expertly into a rather attractive roll before bringing the blunt to her lips to lick down the length.  

“the joy of roleplay,” she mentions, quite pleased from the attention. “we should do it more often.” 

cocoa eyes peek at you from under long lashes before swiftly looking bavk down at her work. “daddy~” she adds.

“christ, rosie, don’t make me take you here again.” you deadpan, embarrassed, looking at her as though she’s meant to understand the gravity of your statement.

roseanne just laughs, conspicuously displaying how perfectly aware she was on the effect of her recurrent use of your ‘nickname’ in the most inappropriate choice of settings and moments.

you slide one hand up, rubbing and massaging the curve of her waist while she soothes down the edges with her fingertips, and grabs the discarded lighter from the floor to light the end up.  

“professional,” you chuckle, and wrap your arms around her. she blows smoke halos in your face, bubbled laugh when you playfully gust them away before bringing you into a kiss. she hums as she closes her eyes, and glides her tongue across your bottom lip. “we’re never getting out of here if you keep this up.” your words a breathy pant between grazes of tongues.

“good,” she whispers, connecting your foreheads, unfocused gaze of seductive, glassy-eyed squint burning as she flicks them down to look hungrily at you. “because i'm taking what’s mine until i'm satisfied.”  

and you wisely do not voice an objection. one of your last sober thoughts before your skirt’s tugged down your legs.  

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal (Chapter 11)

Chapter Summary: Bucky is ready for commitment.  

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 4.6k

Warnings: fluff. Bucky is so smitten.

A/N: It’s been 84 years, but I hope you have fun! Thank you, @lesqui, for reading it over and helping me out with English and everything. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

Tag list for this story is closed.  

  Placing your hands on each side of your hips, you smirk at the popped-up screen in your office. Another project you just nailed. Ever since the promotion, your productivity has increased tenfold and you feel as motivated as ever, your creativity on a top level. Also, the last few weeks, after you decided you needed some time alone, you did set more focus on yourself and your own projects. Work being one of them.

It’s weird to say the least… you’ve been busier than ever and yet, it seems like you actually have much more time to yourself now. You’ve been reading books you’ve bought but never really got to read them, eating ice-cream at 3am as you watch The Return of the King for the millionth time, your drawers are finally organized and so is your precious DVD collection. You got to explore a great number of parks and spots you’ve never been before, even living in New York for so long. You’ve been going out a lot and catching up with friends and family. 

It was a good decision. You remember in your relationship with Eddie there were always obstacles for you to hang out with people outside the small inner circle of you as a couple. Sometimes the obstacles were subtle, and not always brought solely by Eddie, but also by you who let yourself get involved in that dynamic. You had no idea how much you missed people that were yours only, and not yours and Eddie’s.

It’s been great to be single. Really, really single for the first time in your adult life. No boyfriends or fiancées, no booty-calls or deals. Completely single… A title and state of mind you didn’t really get to enjoy in the first months of being broken up, being too heartbroken to even think of everything you could do with your life then.

Deciding to be alone for a while…It was a great and reasonable decision.

You have to admit something to yourself, though.

Sometimes you just wanna throw “great” and “reasonable” out of the window. Because you do miss him… A lot.

Finding out how he’s changed his mind and predisposition towards your relationship has messed quite a bit with your mind… and heart. You weren’t expecting that at all and now you don’t really know what to do with the chaos that’s bringing upon your feelings. And what’s making it even messier is the other guy who also changed his mind and predisposition towards your relationship… you weren’t expecting that either… however, that particular change of heart hasn’t been making your own heart jump each time you think of it…

Squeaky little yells and an animated chattering sound of female voices catch your attention to outside your office. Your previous smirk turns into a smile while you shake your head to yourself. That type of commotion only ensues when a certain someone drops by the Tech Department.  

With a wave of your hand, you shut down the screen you’ve been working on, before moving towards the sound. What you come to find a few stops outside your office, at the Department’s common area, is a little circle of your female coworkers around a Super Soldier. He’s always a hit among your coworkers, but today it seems like they’re even in a bigger frenzy, fussing around something that he seems to be holding in his arms. You attempt to catch an eye of it, but the bodies in front of you make it quite hard.

He spots you as you approach them and opens a huge grin at your sight.

You smile back at him just as widely and after you come closer and some of the girls make room, your eyes widen and a small little gasp slips out of you when you finally find out what the fuss is all about. They are all cooing and marveling at a beautiful cat on Bucky’s arms, white as snow on a mountain peak, standing there like royalty, staring back like they’re nothing but proud of being where they are.

“Hey,” Bucky greets, prompting your eyes to focus back on him.

“Hi, there,” you answer back while your gaze carries an amused question mark at him.

He lifts a hard drive with his free hand to your vision field, “We collected this last mission, it’s some alien stuff,” he offers you the drive, keeping his eyes on yours.

As you gaze at each other, you reach for the little device. His fingers brush against yours and that’s precisely when the chattering around both of you becomes nothing but a distant and vague noise that barely reaches your senses… until a loud clear of throat sound stands out.

“Alright, girls, let’s get back to our desks and let these two, ahm… work,” Camilla, your closest friend there, gives you a pointed look and a discrete curve curls the corner of her lips as she leads the group - which looks far from happy about it - away.  

When your gaze meets Bucky again, he’s got that shit-eating grin of his that tells you the little interaction between you and your friend didn’t quite skip from his attention.

You bite your lip and are about to say something when he beats you to it, “Sorry, I had to bring her with me.” He looks down at the cat on his arm and gives it a gentle shake, grinning down at her while she looks up at him before her incredibly blue eyes shut in what looks like sheer contentment, “This little girl right here started whining at the door when I was leaving… she just can’t leave my side anymore.” Bucky shrugs and ticks his tongue, before winking at you.

You chuckle, finding the surprising scene before you nothing less than adorable. The fact that you enjoy being in the presence of his charm again doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but you say nothing about it, “It’s ok, of course. I love cats. What’s her name?”

“Y/N, this is Alpine. Alpine this is Y/N,” he introduces you two with pride lacing his voice.

“Oh, hello, Alp-” your attempt of petting the cat comes to an abrupt halt with you withdrawing your hand at the loud hiss the animal aims at you.

Your eyes snap at Bucky to see his jaw dropping and his eyes widening with a mix of shock and fluster, “Fucking Christ,” he gasps, before looking down at the cat who now licks its paws absentmindedly, “What the hell, missy? Apologize. Apologize now,” he scolds, gaining absolutely no reaction in response.

He scoffs, looking back at you with incredulous lifted eyebrows.

You laugh, mainly at his attempt of making Alpine apologize, “Don’t worry…” You wave him off, “How did that happen, though? I don’t remember you having a cat.” You narrow your eyes just when your head tilts.

He bites his lower lip before an almost cringing smile forms on his lips, “Oh well…”

 A FEW WEEKS BEFORE…

 “Weren’t the Skrulls, like, actually good guys?” Bucky frowns, shoving one of his post-missions Oreos in his mouth and crossing his ankles over the spaceship’s dash.

“Every bunch has its bad apple, I guess,” from the pilot’s seat Natasha shrugs, eyeing the apple in question from over her shoulder.

“You’ll regret this,” threatens the prisoner, who’s actually a Skrull slaver named Gragnon and has his hands and feet securely tied up, stuck on a sit at the back of the ship. Still, he tries to get up and advance towards the front, but a shield of red mist surges in front of him, making him fall back on the chair again with a growl.

Wanda, the third member of the party on that mission, smirks from her seat right behind Nat’s.

Nat rolls her eyes, “What a douche… Talos has been leading a search for him for years now, he’d be thankful we’re taking him to them. Feet off the dash, please.” 

Bucky quickly obeys, pulling down his legs to the floor as Wanda snickers.  

“In fact… we should thank the success of this mission to a certain someone, who came up with a device to break alien codes.” The cheeky smile on Wanda’s face as she started speaking only fades so she can shoot a glare back at the prisoner, who’s now revolved by a red mist dome.

“Damn right.” A dreamy little curl pulls Bucky’s lips as he swings on his seat and passes the bag of Oreos to Wanda.

“Jesus,” Nat scoffs, setting the ship on autopilot, before swirling her chair to see both Bucky and Wanda, “Could you ever imagine this could be possible? That this guy would someday be that smitten over someone?” she questions Wanda.

“Not in a million years. I don’t know Y/N that well, but I bow to her.” Wanda mimics the gesture before shoving a cookie in her mouth.

Bucky doesn’t even drop the dreaminess of his smile. He is smitten… completely… utterly… and fuck if that doesn’t feel damn good. He always thought that kind of feeling would be a pain in the ass, boring and painful. It is not. He feels like singing, dancing, hugging every human being and alien he comes across. Fuck, he would hug the Gragnon dude if it didn’t mean to get a kick in the ass from Natasha. It’s been ages that he doesn’t really get high on anything, but that feeling… he’s definitely hooked on it.  There’s not a doubt inside him anymore and he’s in love with being in love with you.

“So, spill it,” Nat crosses her legs, swinging on her chair “You really went to her place and poured your heart out to her? Right after her ex proposed to her?” She questions, “What did she say?”

“Well, first she thought I was kidding and laughed her ass off…” He shakes his head with the same dreamy little smile on his lips, “Then, when she realized I was not, she started crying and, of course, so did I.” He shrugs, ignoring when Nat and Wanda exchange looks, “She wasn’t expecting that from me at all, and, we can’t really blame her can we?” 

“Definitely not.”

“Nope.”

Bucky chuckles at the unison response from her friends before leaning over and snatching the bag of cookies from Wanda, before giving them the details of his talk with you, having their undivided attention.  “And she said she needs some time alone, being single, I mean, to sort her feelings out… Also, it seems like she doesn’t think I can’t deal with the kind of commitment that being in love requires,” he says with a mouthful.

“Oh, honey…” Nat tilts her head.

He notices the sympathy on hers and Wanda’s expressions and waves his hand to brush her worries off, “No, no. None of that. All in all, it went pretty well. As much as I wished it would be different, I think her decision is fair. At least she didn’t say yes to the jackass with the ring,” he huffs, “I wasn’t really expecting her to throw herself in my arms. At least, not just yet.” He smirks.

“What?” Natasha shoots a look at Wanda before turning to him, “You’re not stepping aside?”

Bucky snorts at the question, “Are you kidding me? The first broad I ever fall in love with and you think I’ll leave the path free for that short little clown who thinks ten years matter?” He lets out an exaggeratedly loud laugh, “I’ve lived more than one hundred of them. Ten years mean nothing to me, and soon enough she’ll realize it doesn’t have to mean much to her, either.” A small smile rises on his face, “Of course she can have the time for herself she wants, find out what’s like being single. She deserves that. And she can think and figure out all she needs… have her fun... It’s all good…” He nods, “But in the meanwhile? I’ll be around romancing the shit out of that woman,” he states, right before tossing another cookie in his mouth.

“Holy shit,” Wanda addresses Natasha, with both eyebrows high on her forehead.

“I know…” Nat answers with an equally dumbfounded look on her face, before turning to Bucky, “Listen,” she sighs and tilts her head, “I hate to be such a killjoy here, but… I get you’re in love, and I know this is new and exciting for you.” She’s smiling before her lips tighten, “Having said that… I think she might have a point about you not being ready for commitment Bucky, you never wanted that. I’m gonna be honest here, I’m the one who set what you two had up because I thought it wouldn’t lead to this…” She waves all around him, “Feelings, I mean… and I would hate myself if you two ended up hurt because of it.” She focuses an apprehensive gaze on him while Wanda also rests her attention on him, looking like she agrees with her friend.

Bucky takes a good look between the two of them before putting into words the answer that’s so clear on his head now, “I know it may sound weird and uncharacteristic of me. Trust me, I know that.” He nods at Natasha, taking a moment to silently communicate with her in the way that has been always so easy for the two of them, “You’re right, I’ve never wanted that. Settling down to just one person, commit to a long term relationship…But with her,” he sighs and the corner of his lips curl up without further notice, “I want her and I want all of that with her, the whole package. I’m ready. I’m not afraid. I think the reason I didn’t want all of that before is because I hadn’t met her yet. That’s it. Simple as that. I know it’s not going to be easy, but to hell with easy. I want her. And I want her hard.”

Wanda already has a huge grin on her face when a satisfied little smirk twists Nat’s lips, “That’s what Amanda said.”

Bucky’s eyes widen before he squints at her, “What’ve you been up to?”

Nat puts on a nonchalant face and reaches forward to grab a cookie from the package. She takes a bite and shrugs, “Poor girl… needed some comfort after being let down by your buddy down there.”

Bucky lets out an outraged scoff and throws a cookie on her way, from which she dodges easily as she laughs, “I bet you were of great help in consoling her… Jesus… Amanda and you? The world isn’t ready.” He shakes his head.

Natasha sports a smug smile on her face when she nods her agreement, “You’re not wrong.”

“Alright, as much as I want to hear all about this Amanda girl, we’re getting close to the Skrull base now and we need you to land us, Nat,” Wanda nods towards the dash.

“Copy that,” Natasha makes a military salute at her, before shifting her seat and taking control of the ship again.

“And as for you,” Wanda turns to Bucky, “I don’t need to read what’s on your mind to know you’re telling us the truth. You’re ready for commitment,” she offers him a soft smile, which he reciprocates, “And if you really wanna show her that, I may have an idea.” Her smile turns into a devious little smirk and that’s enough to pique Bucky’s interest.

~~~

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Bucky asks, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walks alongside Wanda through the busy sidewalks of Manhattan, “I mean… I know I said yes, but it is one hell of a commitment, what if it’s not for me?”

“Don’t worry, Bucky,” she smiles, “We’re just gonna take a look around, feel the vibe, and then see what happens. You don’t have to decide anything just yet,” she assures, wrapping an arm around his elbow as he looks down at her, “I just think it’s a good idea for you to get to know a bit more of this sudden inclination to commit…to experiment, I guess,” Wanda shrugs, “Besides, a dear friend of mine runs the shelter and the girl knows her stuff. If she feels like you’re not ready, she won’t allow you to get out of there with one of her babies.”

Bucky lets out a laugh. Feeling a little lighter about the subject, he places his hand over the one Wanda has wrapped around his arm, “Alright… I’m not opposed to the idea of having a dog, I guess. I always loved Labradors…” he frowns, “I would have to switch apartments, though…”

“Look at you.” Wanda nudges her shoulder on him, “Already making plans for your child…”

“Child…” Bucky can’t help but snort. He had agreed to Wanda’s idea of going to an animal shelter because he thought it would be a good way to show you he’s ready for commitment and, like he said, he’s always been fond of dogs and he’s sure if he ends up taking one home he’ll treat them well. But he also never understood how some people could be so attached to an animal to the point of considering them a child, or family…“I don’t know… I’m definitely not taking a pet home today. I agree with you, I shouldn’t decide anything just yet.”

As they walk past a small alleyway, Wanda halts, forcing him to stop with her.

“What?” Bucky frowns down at her.

“Shhh,” she brings a finger to her lips, staring towards the alleyway, “Listen.”

That’s when Bucky’s enhanced hearing catches the thin and shaky little sound coming through the trash cans.

“Come on,” Wanda pulls him to the alley and towards the cans.

What they find behind one of the containers, among all the filth around is a ball of white fur. Curled up and shaking just like the meows they heard seconds ago. A cat, a young adult white cat looks up and a pair of baby blue eyes meets Bucky’s and he just can’t look away from the plea on them and it’s just when something clicks inside his chest.

“Oh, no, look,” Wanda points at the tail, that has an evident injury on it, but when she leans down to examine it further, the animal flinches and rushes towards Bucky’s legs, letting out another trembling and weak meow. Bucky freezes as it starts climbing up his calves. 

Given the poor coordination on their back little legs – probably from the damage on the tail- it can go much higher,  but keeps trying. After the initial surprise, Bucky can’t help but to smile at the little fighter, who seems to reach out at him for protection. Next thing he knows, he’s leaning down and picks it up with all the caution he can muster.

“Hello, little lady… what happened there, huh?” He coos, nodding towards the small injury, which looks like a bite, having the cat meowing while bumping and rubbing the head against his chest.

“Is it a female?” Wanda tilts her head, an amused and questioning expression on her face.

Bucky smirks, not taking his eyes away from the animal, who is now quiet and seems much calmer, but digging her little claws on Bucky’s shirt, “I know a beautiful lady when I see one. Don’t I, gorgeous?”

A purring sound comes out of the now contented animal, the small injury on her tail apparently not being a problem anymore while she climbs higher and practically hugs Bucky with her little paws, whose fur is smudged by dirt, making his heart take a flip in his chest. Damn his heart nowadays…

“Aww, Bucky…” Wanda smiles, placing her hand over her heart, “What are we going to do? Should we take her to the shelter?” Wanda offers, with a bit of tentativeness on her voice.

Bucky’s eyes widen largely, before they snap to her friend. A protective tightness laces his hold on Alpine, who lets out another weak meow. Shit… Alpine? When the hell did he even come up with a name? Fuck if he knows, all he knows he’s done for and can’t possibly think of parting from that white furry little thing, who seems to have gone through a lot in her life already and probably has never met with human kindness before.

He doesn’t need to say anything as understanding falls upon Wanda’s face. He would even guess there’s a bit of pride adorning the smile on her lips now, “Alright, alright… we do need to take Alpine to the vet, though, Mr. I’m not gonna take a pet home today.” She winks.

~~~

PRESENT DAY…

“Oh well…” Bucky scratches the back of his neck while you keep your beautiful interested eyes on him, “I found this beauty on the street… she had an injured tail, poor thing… probably bitten by a dog. But she’s fine now, aren’t you, sweetie?” He coos, putting on the new tone of voice that belongs to Alpine now and loving the sound of your chuckle, “You know… I’m fully committed to taking care of her. I’m a cat dad now.” He says, putting some effort to highlight the word “committed”.

“I can see that…” you comment, nodding with a glimmer of fondness in your gaze at where Alpine is cuddled against him with eyes closed, completely relaxed.

Bucky looks down and smiles. That one is too cute for her own good, but he’s definitely having a talk with her later, for hissing at you like that, like he hadn’t given her a lecture about good behavior and how incredible you were before they left home.  

“So, it’s been a while, huh? How’re you doing?” He asks softly, boring his eyes on you and holding back every ounce of him to not pull you to his arms and shower you with all the intense love he’s gathering in his chest at your sight in front of him. If it was up to him, he wouldn’t have spent those long weeks apart from you, but he met with missions and an Alpine in the way. Also, as much as he’s resolved to show you he’s the one for you, he understands you needed time for yourself. But, hell, he missed you so much.

“Oh, I’m good, I’m good… pretty good,” you ramble, brushing a finger behind your ear, that thing you do when you become a bit self-conscious, which happens often when he places his gaze so intently on you.

He can’t help but smile, his chest impossibly swelled with his feelings for you, because that woman who becomes all flustered with his attention is the same woman who whined to suck his dick while shitfaced after a party. Damn, he’s so in love with you.

“That’s great...Are you free tonight?” He asks, smoothly, “Wanda and Sam will make hamburgers, they’re one hell of a team in the kitchen, you’ll be welcome to come if you want to.”

“Oh… I…” You falter.

“I’m not trying anything, I promise,” He’s quick to add with a chuckle and raises his free hand up, noticing the trepidation in your voice. “Everyone’s gonna be there. We’re just gonna eat and hangout.” He shrugs.

“Oh… no, it’s not that, it’s just…” You tighten your lips “I’ve got plans.” Something Bucky guesses to be disappointment or something like that sweeps into your voice. As for him, he holds his breath, bracing himself for the news that you’re going out with that douche of an ex, “I’m gonna meet some friends from college tonight. I got a reservation for us for dinner and then we’re gonna go dance…”

Bucky lets out a breath and the smile that grows in his face is wide when he says, “Oh, alright. That sounds like fun.” Really, really fun, especially if that jackass isn’t involved. He’s not disappointed. Far from it.  

You smile back at him, matching his mood. It doesn’t slip from his attention that you seem a bit surprised by his reaction at you declining an invitation from him in favor to hang out with your friends, but he says nothing of it.

“Yeah… I’ve been getting reacquainted with them lately,” you say, excitement plastered on the little curve of your lips and the glint in your eyes, “It’s been fun. I’d love to get to know Wanda and Sam’s talent in the kitchen, though….Maybe some other time?” You offer.

“Sounds perfect, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment brings the effect he was aiming for when you promptly does that thing with your finger on your ear again, but it was also noticed by the other girl in the room and currently in his arm, who seems to wake up from her comfort slumber against his chest to hiss at you again.

You look at each other in widened eyes.

“What the hell,” Bucky scolds down at the cat, glancing at you briefly, catching your now amused expression, before addressing Alpine again in a whispery voice, “We’re gonna have a talk back home, young lady.”

~~~

“What a number you put out there, huh?” His voice is gentle despite the reprimanding intention in his words while Bucky crouches and fills her little plate with the special food the vet recommended.

With her crystal-clear eyes glued on the plate, Alpine doesn’t really acknowledge his half attempt of admonishing her before digging in.

Bucky chuckles, “She’s cute, isn’t she? But so are you,” He scratches the back of her ear and she stops eating for a moment to brush her head against his hand, “You don’t have to be jealous, doll. You’re so cute, you’re my girl, too, you know?” he coos, still petting her, “But you gotta help me out there buddy. Ok? She’s really special and I know you’ll love her, too.”

Alpine lets out a weak meow before getting back to her plate and Bucky swears to God he sometimes wonders if the cat is some sort of shapeshifter in disguise, understanding every little thing he says.  

Letting her out to eat, he stands up, “Hey, Friday,” he calls.

“Yes, Bucky?”

“Could you search for a table reservation in the name of Y/N Y/L/N tonight? I need the address of the place.”

A small silence ensues before the A.I speaks again, “Isn’t it a bit creepy?”

He sighs, placing his hands on his hips, “Friday… babe…” He smiles at the giggles that resound in his kitchen, before bringing a hand to his heart, “I’m in love, ok? I’m not gonna ruin her night…If anything, I’m just going to make her night out with her friends more… interesting.”

“Alright, you know I can’t say no to you,” the A.I concedes, “You can find the address in your phone’s map. Good luck, handsome.”

“Thanks, babe,” Bucky grins, before turning to Alpine, who’s now about done with her food, sprawled on the floor busy with cleaning out her paws, “And you?” He calls, catching her attention before he points at her, “You’ll have burgers with your aunt Wanda. I have plans for tonight.”  

~~~

To be continued...

[urimaginespimp]

Breathe (This love pt. 5)

Bucky x Reader

Set during Endgame

Look out for: Stubborn dad Thor, and 40s Bucky.

--------

Previous Chapter

--------

None of you thought it was going to end that way.

When Carol, a new friend of yours, found Tony in space with one of Thanos’ daughters, there was a spark of hope within you. But when your adoptive father chopped the titan’s head off out of rage, you knew you had to go back to the people who might be able tell you what’s next.

To visitors, the Norns’ cave felt eerie. But stepping in it for the first time after Thor took you under his care, it still felt like home. You could already feel the Norns’ presence despite not being submerged in the pool of water.

You smile at the memory of how they have the reputation of being cruel and torturous to anyone they possess, when they have never been less than gentle to you. Dipping your right leg first, you instantly felt how they made the water warmer. Walking into the middle, you waited for them to enter your consciousness.

Taking a deep breath, you laid yourself back and relaxed enough for your body to start floating on water. Then you felt them.

“We’ve been expecting you, child.” Your voice blended with theirs once they spoke up.

I’ve been meaning to visit you. I’m sorry I didn’t go sooner. You replied in your thoughts.

“You feel... broken.”

A titan got hold of the stones and snapped the universe’s population in half. I- I lost most of my family.

“We know. And now you’re here because your heart cannot rest.”

What can you tell me?

“There is a man...”

Of course, there is. You caught yourself thinking. There was a pang in your chest when you remembered how amused you were when one of your Midgardian friends rolled her eyes and said that phrase.

“Now is not the time, Y/N.” They snapped at you.

Sorry. Please continue.

“The man is stuck in a realm in Midgard, and he’s on his way.”

There is a realm within the Midgard realm? Confusion laced your thoughts.

“But remember child, it is not until resentment within your family is put aside, that you would have even an ounce of chance to fix everything.” You think back to how Stark still isn’t speaking to anyone of you. Yiu haven’t heard from him for years now.

How can I fix us?

“You can’t meddle in this one Y/N. It is only with time that the rough patch would heal.” you sighed in frustration but found yourself agreeing. If it’s for the best, then you’ll let time take its course.

“Now, you are banned from leaving the cave until you tell us about this Bucky that’s plaguing your mind.”

--------

When you were first introduced you as Thor’s adopted daughter to the Asgardians, they were polite but you could feel that they were still unsure of you. But with spending time with helping them fish and being patient enough to teach them the Midgardian lifestyle, they now treated you as their own princess despite not being of royal blood. But since Thanos, Thor has been more distant – leaving responsibilities to you and Val.

For five years, you tried to appear as if you were doing better than most. And after taking time to just wallow in sadness for a while, you finally started visiting Nat and Steve from time to time. You were glad to hear that Steve was going to therapy, and you know he means well when he drops hints that you should go with him and join his sessions, but you always gave lame excuses, and often diverted away from any topic that would involve Bucky.

Nat however, has never been one to shy away from calling you out. “I know there’s a part of you that still blames yourself for not bending his blood and brains out.” she once confronted you when you were lounging on the couch, day drinking and eating sandwiches. You sat up and gave her a sad smile, your eyes tearing up.

“Damn it Nat, I came here to drink, not to get therapy from you.” you chuckled, grimacing at how forced it sounded.

“But it was never your fault. Believe me when I say that we all blamed ourselves at some point.” She continued, and your eyes teared up.

In the last five years you thought no one could see that you’ve been beating yourself up for not getting to where Steve and Thor were sooner. You thought that maybe if you had, you would’ve stopped Thanos, and half of the world, including Bucky, would still be here.

“Sometimes I wake up thinking I’m still in Wakanda, and that this has all been a nightmare.” you breathed out, feeling yourself about to break down for the first time. “I can’t find myself to stop waiting for him even if I don’t know if we could ever bring everybody back.” you finally admitted.

“Y/N -”

“Nat, the worst part is that I never got to tell him I love him. I know he knew and didn’t feel the same way. But I still wish I got to.” tears were starting to spill from your eyes, and Natasha was quick to get the drink from your hand before it spilled, and take you in her arms for comfort.

If you were to be completely honest, half the reason you go out of your way to visit Nat and Steve, was so you could also visit The Smithsonian Institution, and just... look at him. You’ve read what was written about him over and over, but it wasn’t enough to replace the yearning that you have inside.

In your sleep you can sometimes still see him just seconds before the blip. On other nights, it’s just the image of him sleeping soundly – his lips parted slightly, and his breathing getting steadier by the minute, the crease between his brows relaxed, and his hair pushed and tied at the back after you offered to - a sight you’ve engraved in your mind after many nights of comforting him following a nightmare.

“He loved you too, Y/N”. Steve spoke out from the doorway, seeing your state. “Maybe not like the way you do, but I know he does. And today I went out for a walk and -”

“Steve, if you’re about to tell her to look on the bright side, I’m about to hit you on the head with a PeanutButter sandwich.” Nat cut him off.

But then everyone’s attention snapped to Nat’s desk, where a notification pinged. It says that someone was outside. Sliding on the call, there was a man outside, asking if anyone was at home. You know you’ve seen his face before, and after he finally said his name, you remembered who he is.

“Is this an old message?” Steve asked after a few seconds in shock.

“It’s the front gate.”

--------

“I’ll do it too.” You spoke up to the group.

The team was going to have two tests – one where it would be a quick time on wherever the test subject would want to go, and if it’s successful, the second would leave the test subject longer in the timeline they choose. And you just volunteered yourself right after Clint.

“No, I forbid you.” Thor spoke up from his seat. Everybody turned their attention to him in surprise. All along they thought he was asleep because he had sunglasses on and was unresponsive.

“Fa-”

He stood abruptly and came closer to you. “This is non-negotiable, Y/N. I’ve already lost enough; I can’t lose you too." Your eyes welled with tears in surprise. For the last five years he’s managed to shut everyone out including you – leading you to believe that he doesn’t care anymore and just hasn’t kicked you out, out of honor.

“We’ll let you both talk first.” You heard Steve say in a low voice, ushering everyone else out of the room.

Thor grunted and moved away back to his seat, still wearing his glasses, while you stayed standing, leaning in the corner. Taking a long hard look at him, you understood where he was coming from. But you also knew getting things right would be the only way to possibly get him back up again. And it was a risk you were willing to take.

“There was a time when I believed you were dead.” You started talking, regardless of not knowing if he was listening. “I jumped right into anger out of guilt, and as I was ruthlessly destroying those outriders, I thought I was gonna have to stay feeling that way forever. Just plain angry.” You chuckled and pushed yourself from the wall.

“But there was a moment where that anger was replaced by worry and fright. It was when Bucky was getting too overwhelmed by the creatures’ attacks. Yes, I almost got pierced like a kebab right after, but it was also the moment I realized that I preferred feeling any other emotions than blinding anger. I don’t want you feeling that way forever too.”

“I’m not angry.” he snapped, standing up once again to get closer to you.

“Yes, you are. But above all you’re hurting.” you stood your ground in front of him.

“I am definitely NOT hurting.” He sarcastically answered.

“Really? Then take those glasses off. Let me see those definitely not bloodshot eyes.” you smiled gently up at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest, when he snorted at you. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you sniffling and trying to hide it by pretend-drinking that empty can of beer earlier.”

“gods, why are daughters so annoyingly observant.” He muttered, finally throwing the empty can of beer somewhere in the room. You can see that the team was back just right outside the glass door. You gave them an assuring smile, and faced him again.

“Well?”

“If it works on Clint, then fine.” He groaned, and you couldn’t help but tackle him out of gratitude.

--------

Clint was on the ground once he returned, and Nat rushed to his side to check on him.

“Hey, look at me.” she asked him, and he turned to look at everyone. His eyes were teary, but it wasn’t from sadness.

It was hope.

“It worked!”

--------

“Now, Y/N. This time you’re going to be there for a longer period, okay? Use your powers if defense is necessary.” Banner instructed you. You were now standing at the center of the machine in your suit. But only Nat and Steve knew what you had under it. It was their idea.

“Are you ready?” This time, Nat was behind the controller with Banner to overlook it. You gave her a small smile and a nod.

“Wait, where are you going anyway?” You heard Scott asked out loud, as Nat input the year. You looked over to where Steve was standing and he was also grinning.

“Say hi to him for me.” you heard him say before you felt yourself shrunk. And you were in.

--------

You made it out of a tent, now out of your suit and left with the old nurse’s uniform you were wearing under it earlier. Everybody else was too distracted, cheering on Steve because he just brought back with him the soldiers from Hydra’s base.

You tried to calm your nerves, just realizing that the people around you were now most likely dead from your timeline. How many of them survived the war, and how many of their grandchildren have you befriended? And how many of those grandchildren were also taken by the blip?

When the crowd was starting to disperse and most of the people were trying to get back to their tasks, you found yourself roaming around, a little lost, trying to figure out where the medical tent is.

“Steve, I told you I feel fine.” you froze when you heard his voice a little far behind you.

“It’s better to make sure, Buck.” you heard Steve insist. You still couldn’t will your legs to keep walking. “And even if you are, you need rest. Just let me find you a...”

shit

“...nurse! Hey, ma’am!” You weren’t sure if you were the one Steve was calling out. Turning around slowly, your breath hitched when you finally faced them. Bucky’s own face went from annoyed to entranced in a second. He was staring at you with the very same pair of orbs you’ve been missing. Only that in this timeline, they still held a glint of playfulness and innocence in them.

You cleared your own throat when you realized it’s been a few seconds since anyone said anything. “Uh, what can I do for you, S- Captain?” you gave them a smile, trying not to chuckle from almost calling him by his first name.

“You know what, Steve, I am feeling a little funny.” Bucky nudged him with his elbow. And you turned your attention to him.

“Right. Uh, allow me to assist you, Sargeant.” you walked slowly towards him, feeling like your heart was going to jump out of your chest.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Steve muttered to him.

He put his arm around your shoulder for support as you start walking to what you hope was the medical tent. It was only then you realized that it was left arm. Your hand shakingly reached for his wrist, careful not to go for the hand, as if you were just making sure that you would be able to help him hold himself up.

“So... what’s your name?” He started trying to make small talk.

“Y/N” you answered, trying to mask your nervousness.

“I’m James. But you can call me Bucky.” Hearing him introduce himself in such a confident manner struck you deeply. You know that after this, he wouldn’t be able to know who he is for decades to come.

You almost wanted to warn him.

“Are you okay?” He asked in concern after being met with silence.

“Yes, sir. I’m just a tad nervous. I’m kinda new here.” you gave him a tight smile.

“Please call me by my name. And lucky for you, I’m the easiest patient you’ll ever tend to, doll. All I need is some company while on bed rest.” He gave you a boyish smile.

“You got yourself a deal, James.” you found yourself returning the smile.

Entering what was thankfully the medical tent, you helped him settle down on one of the beds. There were only about 3-5 other patients, and they were all being tend to already.

“I’m kind of curious, why did you decide to serve?” he gave you a sheepish smile.

“Are you sure there isn’t anything wrong with you, soldier?” you asked him first, and he responded with a small shake of his head. Smiling, you came up with a believable answer. “My dad was a high-ranking officer, but something happened, and they lost a lot of people. And now he’s back home wallowing in guilt. I decided to serve in behalf of him, so now I’m here.” you bit the inside of your cheek. It wasn’t entirely a lie.

James was looking at you in awe, and he took your hand in his left one and gave it a light squeeze. “You don’t have a man waiting on you back home?” you could hear he was almost hesitant to ask.

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill. How would you be able to say something so heart wrenching?

“Bu... He was among those who didn’t make it.” you cleared your throat to compose yourself. This was all too much.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” he didn’t know what to say. He almost kicked himself for having a tinge of relief in knowing that you weren’t committed to anyone.

“He wasn’t really mine... I was in love, yes. And he knew but just didn’t really feel the same. And I never resented him for it. I just wish I was brave enough to really tell him before he...” you choked up and apologized to him, but there was no judgement behind his eyes.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t want for you to be filled with regrets every time you remember him. I know I wouldn’t.” He gave you an assuring smile, squeezing your hand in comfort as the tears finally run down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry for crying. Now they’re gonna think you were being mean to me.” you gave him a sad smile.

“Steve will lecture me about manners for sure.” He chuckled.

“He still does it.” You thoughtlessly blurted out, earning a confused look from him. “I- I’ve heard some people saying he’s been super righteous even way before he became the Captain America.” you sheepishly smiled, hoping he believed you.

“Yeah. Always been a punk.” He replied, but you could hear adoration lace his voice.

“I think I should leave you to actually get some rest.” You knew it was time to go.

He nodded and smiled at you. “You're the most beautiful nurse I’ve ever seen. I don't think most of us wouldn’t mind if your face is what will be the last thing we’ll see.”

“Yeah, there is definitely something wrong with you. Get some sleep, soldier.” you turned and was already near the way out, when he spoke up.

“We’re going on a raid tomorrow. Will I get to see you when we come back?”

You felt your heart drop. You knew what was about to happen to him.

You turned to face his way and walked back to him where he was now sitting up on the bed.

“James, you’re a strong man. You’re going to be okay.” eventually.

“Thank you, angel.”

It was your turn to give his left hand a squeeze. And bringing it up, you gave it a small kiss before gently dropping it back to him.

“I’ll wait for you to come back, Buck.” you smiled, and quickly left the tent before you completely break down.

It was time go back.

--------

@eternalharry @iheartsebandchris @lizzarooni @the-ayo-lit

@tanyaherondale @knowyourworth-sellyoursoul

Today is a great day. Fearless (Taylor's Version) + New TFATWS episode.

[jtsfavslut]

Desperado [GD]

Description: Grayson participates in the famous November challenge, but Y/N has made it her mission to make him fail. 

Warnings: Ahh yes...smut, cinge, idk what else 

Word Count: 2.5K+

Touch starved.

The term was an understatement for your current situation. Why? Because your boyfriend decided to participate in the famous no nut fucking November. To say you hated it was another understatement.

You despised how committed he was to it. And to make matters worse, he didn't shave either.

And you being you, you were a whore for Grayson's beard. It was mid-November so it was right where you liked it, a bit past the scruff period.

Every Time you looked at him, your core did nothing but ache. Your legs clenched at the memory of how good he felt between them, his big arms wrapped around them; Holding you close to him as he made you cum for the 4th time that night with just his fingers and mouth.

"Penny for your thoughts?" His voice ranged in your head making you shake your filthy thoughts and memories away.

"Hmm?" you hummed turning to look at him, a smirk on his face disappearing when he licked his lips, coming back short after.

"Whatcha thinking about?"

"Nothing," you shrugged it off, but he knew. Grayson was fluent when it came to your body language, knowing what everything meant, even the slightest movement.

"Nothing? You've been staring at me and cleaning your legs, you're biting your lip and you're flushed. I know that look from a mile away, Angel," he taunted, making you turn your head and look away, scoffing in response.

"It's just hot in here. You have the heat all the way up," you murmured before getting up and walking away. 

"Are you serious?"

"It's just really hot in here that's all" an idea comes to mind and you strip your hoodie.

Grayson raises an eyebrow, already knowing where you're going with this "really"

"Yeah just really hot" you take your shirt off as well, leaving you in a bra and jeans, you were about to take off your pants before he verbally stopped you.

"Angel, don't you dare," his voice was stern and rough, letting you know you were working him up.

"What? I'm not doing anything bad, I'm gonna go swim," you replied before walking away, a smirk on your face, "To each their own Bailey, to each their own,"

"Keep it up, y/l/n," he whispered but you were long gone to even hear it, your feet dipped inside the cool pool water as you looked up at the clear sky.

Your attempt was a slight fail, it was good, just not good enough to crack Grayson.

Grayson Dolan was stubborn. Maybe as stubborn as they came, you blamed that on three things; his cockiness, his ego, and the fact that his top three had an influence on his personality.

But you couldn't give it. You had made it your mission throughout the entire month of November.

It was now the last day of the month, and you needed Grayson to crack. You needed him to crack hours before the month ended. You wanted to be as close as he could, yet as far as he could. Your plan was evil, perhaps it was, but it wasn't fair that you were forced to compete in a ridiculous, immature, high-school like bet.

You were sure this plan was going to work. You felt it in your bones. You were clever enough to use one of Grayson's qualities, and a few of his traits against himself.

If there's anything that Grayson was, other than stubborn, was dominant and jealous. One wrong look from a guy and he was railing you, fucking the pretty out of you, not that it worked since in his eyes, your prettiest state was when you were fucked out. Hair frazzled into all sorts of directions, a few beads of sweat dripping down your hairline onto your forehead, mouth slightly opened as deep, tired breaths fell past your lips, sore shaking legs, chest rising up as your eyes closed. A sight only he got to see, a sight he caused.

Your skimpy blood-red dress clutched onto your body in the most perfect way, a pair of matching heels covered your perfectly pedicured feet, a pair of silver snake earrings held onto your ears, and a simple matching snake necklace adorned your neck. A silver purse completed your outfit as you applied the last bit of gloss and highlighter you needed before slipping out of your vanity, grabbing your phone before leaving your room, walking towards the couch where Grayson laid on, a pair of gray sweats, with air forces, were present on his body.

"I'll be back around 2 am, don't wait up for me," you spoke, your nails suddenly becoming more interesting than a shirtless Grayson, "Peace you," you turned to walk away before his voice suddenly stopped you, a smirk making its way on and off of your face before you turned back around to face him.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked, placing his phone down before sitting up straight, his once hazel eyes scanning your body up and down.

"Out, where else?" you carelessly replied as he chuckled.

"Out where? With who?" he questioned, a dry chuckle falling past your lips as you shook your head, clutching on to your purse.

"The club, with Vinnie, invited me out for some drinks," you replied, only receiving a glare and a scoff.

"Since when do you go clubbing?" he asked and you shrugged.

"Since when do you care?" you scoffed, "Anyways, he's here, I need to go, have fun," and with that, you were gone.

You were out the door, as Grayson's anger increased. Sure, he did trust you. But he also knew about your history with Vincent.

He knew everything, from how you went from best friends to fuck-buddies, to best friends again, so he felt a bit uncomfortable with you going out for drinks with someone you spent countless nights with.

Vinnie however, was aware of everything. He was your last resort. You knew how jealous Grayson got whenever he was around. Of course, he agreed, knowing how sexually active you were. He knew you couldn't last a month. He was in fact surprised you had gotten this far without touching yourself, which he knew because you told, just like you did with everything else.

"Do you think this will work?" He asked, taking a shot of the tequila he had ordered, "Like was he mad?"

"He was furious, you should've seen his face," you replied after swallowing the aged liquid, the slight burn giving you nothing but satisfaction, "He should be checking my location right about now," you giggled when the tiny typing bubble popped up in your texts with Grayson. It had been a few hours since you left, meaning Grayson was probably getting ready to bring you home and punish you for being bad and bratty.

"Hey, if he doesn't give you what you want, just know, I'm always up for you," Vinnie smirked, flashing his hand on your face, rings adore his fingers, as black nail polish perfectly laid on his nails.

"In your dreams Vincent," you playfully smacked his hand, knowing he was only playing around.

"You're right, you know? I liked you more when I had you to myself," he scoffed, shaking his head, taking another shot letting out a groan at the taste.

"Oh please V, I'm sure you have plenty of entertainment around," you rolled your eyes as you stared at his hands.

Oh, how you wished Grayson would accomplish your wishes of painting his nails black, but he claimed it was simply not his style. Of course, you understood, but you still wanted him to do it, it was, after all, something you found incredibly attractive.

"Not really, no one offers what I need, you know? They all like that vanilla shit, with the aftercare and soft shit,"

"But you did that with me?" you asked confused but he just shook his head.

"Because it's you. You gave me what I needed. But anyways, your boy toy is here," he spoke as he noticed Grayson walk in. An angry look on his face as he caught a glimpse of your back and Vinnie’s face.

"Ughh, finally," you scoffed as your core throbbed, your mind suddenly imaging certain scenarios on how Grayson would take you.

"What are you doing here?" You asked as soon as you felt his presence next to you, his cologne slapping you on the face.

"I came to pick you up and take you home," he said, no emotion laced with his voice, you mentally rolled your eyes.

Your hand reached up to Vincent's, intertwining your fingers with his before letting out a whine, "But we just started to have fun,"

"I don't care. We're leaving," he spoke before leaning down close to your ear, "You're gonna get it as soon as we get in the car,"

"Ughh fine. You're so boring. You should take a shot or two sometime," you dramatically sighed before letting go of Vinnie's hands and grabbing your phone and purse, "I'll see you another time V, love you, take care," you said, sending him a smirk in an angle that Grayson couldn't see.

"Love you too, don't do anything I wouldn't do," he waved you off as Grayson carefully dragged you out of the establishment. He had parked his car in an empty and abandoned parking lot, having a plan thought out for when he arrived at where you were at.

He opened the back door of his Tesla, before throwing you inside, making sure you wouldn't get hurt, but wanting the message that he was upset to get across, "You think you're funny? Acting like a whore, wearing a slutty outfit to go out with Vinnie? Teasing me all fucking month long, acting like a fucking bitch," he spoke as his fingers came in contact with your jaw, squeezing it in the most perfect way.

Never in his life did Grayson think he would call a woman a whore. But when you came along, you brought a Pandora's box with you. He wasn't sure degrading a female would get him laid, but you introduced it to him, at first it was weird, but he took a liking to it, only with you.

"I didn't do anything," you pouted against his hand, making his other hand squeeze your hip.

"Did I tell you to speak?"

"You asked," you scoffed, eyes widening as a burning sensation spread over your thigh, followed by a moan.

"Open," he muttered, tightening his grip on your jaw, making you open your mouth before he leaned down, doing something you thought Grayson Dolan would never do, "Swallow," he muttered after spitting in your mouth. You did what he said, no questions asked, and no ounce of hesitation in your body, "good girl," he whispered before moving down to between your legs.

His hands explored your legs before you felt a couple of cold things making you look down to find a couple of rings on his fingers, yet no nail polish.

"You wanna behave like a whore, I'll treat you like one," he smirked at your facial expression, he was loving every single second of what was happening, "Mouth of fingers? Never mind, you don't get to choose, don't you dare make a sound," he muttered before pulling down your underwear.

Your body slightly jumped and the long-awaited feeling of his fingers. You bit your lip, feeling so touched that just the slightest feeling of his two fingers spreading your arousal around, "Look at you, so desperate, and wet. It's pathetic," he chuckled making you shake your head before throwing it back as he slowly slipped a finger in, just one, feeling satisfied as you spread your legs and threw your head back, he added another one, and you felt out a whine, earning a thigh smack from him, "I said no sounds,"

He dipped his head down, just feeling the presence of his mouth near you pussy was enough to make you bite your lip, and hold back a moan as he pressed soft kissed on the inside of your legs, fingers wholly moving in and out of you, until he finally placed a soft kiss on your clit, and started moving his fingers faster.

You quickly moved your hand up to your lips, muffling any sound and moan that slipped out. The feeling of euphoria and ecstasy spread quickly over your body, and a knot started forming on your lower stomach at how good Grayson was eating you out and finger fucking you.

"Gray, Grays please," you started chanting his name, not being able to hold it back any longer, the amount of pressure building up was much more than what you could handle.

"You wanna cum for me Angel, Wanna be a good girl for daddy?" He teasingly asked, his fingers moving at a pace that you thought was impossible.

"Mhm, I do please. I'll be a good girl I promise,"

"Let it go, cum for me," as soon as the words slipped out, there was no holding back, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as you let a pornographic like moan, squirting all over his face and making a mess in the back seat of his car, your vision had truly gone white, never feeling something as strong before, not that you minded, you loved every single second.

"Oh my God," was the only thing you managed to breathe out, finally opening your eyes after a few seconds, Grayson was above you, his white shirt having some wet patches, showing how good he truly made you feel.

"I don't think you should be saying his name right now," he smirked as you shook your head, "Not after this mess you made in my car, at least,"

"I know a perfect way to make up, but you know, it's still November so," you smirked, looking at your watch, the time being 11:51, he had nine more minutes.

"Really? How so?" He teased, picking you up as he sat down, placing you bare half on his black dress pants.

"To make you feel really fucking good, right here. In this car, and you can do anything you want to me," you smirked, palming him through his pants, his bulge was apparent, but you were running out of time. 11:55

"But it's only valid for today," you added, unblocking his belt before lifting yourself up to pull his pants down, You spit on your hand before moving it, just to make him harder and work him up a bit more.

"But you have to say yes,"

11:59

"Fuck just do it," he groaned before placing his hands on your hips, making sure to align himself before slamming you down on his dick.

12:00

"Look at you, couldn't even wait one more minute," you struggle to say as he bounced you up and down on his dick, loud groaning falling past his lips at how good you felt around him.

"Shut up,"

Please I am so sorry!!! This is so bad and gross, and I got carried away...I also wrote this in like an hour!! But I said I would do it so here we are!! Anyways yeah, if you made it here because you read it I love you!! And big thanks to @blazedgraysons for helping me and motivating me to write it, I love you bitch!!! 

[dashedwithromance]

Secret Moments In A Crowded Room - Princewitch

okay so DISCLAIMER im scared to post this because we’ve never really seen romantic wrath before so idk if people might think this is OOC but i wanted princewitch fluff desperately and cant wait til october. inspired by the teaser quote she released yesterday and ‘dress’ by taylor swift

-

The ball raged on around her, dancers swirling around impossibly fast, flashes of fabric catching the light of the serpent scones. On and on, all without her. Her husband sat to her right on his larger throne, staring into nothing. They had exchanged all of five words that evening.

She did not blame her husband for his coldness, not truly. If their positions were switched, and she had been forced to marry a random demon while still loving and grieving her murdered spouse, she doubted whether she would even manage civility. Pride continued his business, barely taking notice of his young wife, and she was glad, of that, at least. If he’d wanted her... a shudder snaked down her spine, curling in her gut. Her mind still echoed with the unnatural violation of Lust’s magic, and the thought of another demon prince perusing her like that was foul. There was only one prince she wanted, and his sin was wrath.

Dancing in Hell was nothing like she’d seen on the streets of Palermo. Nothing like the carefree dancing of Vittoria, so full of light and life and love that nothing seemed to touch her. Here, movements entwined with danger, every dance a flirtation with living death. People danced with weapons, exchanging daggers and rondels and rapiers like secret lovers. Jewelled garrottes hung around every neck, poisonous pearls glittering in various ornate hairstyles. An unholy masquerade indeed.

Her own mask was a fine decoration of gold and jewels. Metallic serpents entwined across the mosaic-like surface, darker cracks embedded across it. The mask had arrived one evening at her rooms, wrapped in luscious velvet. No letter accompanied it, the only sign of the sender being a golden snake that slithered up her arm before dissolving into sparks. The decoration matched her dress, a similar mosaic of black silk, lace, and golden serpents. Truly befitting a queen.

Fury burned through her as she watched the revellers pass her by. They danced without a care, members of the seven houses intermingling freely. She wanted to scream and shatter the very throne she sat on. How dare they dance as if mere months ago, one of their own had not been taking the hearts of witches? As if she did not sit on a dead witch’s throne? A witch who still had not found justice, who’s body had been ripped to shreds in the cruellest way imaginable?

“Careful, little queen.” Pride’s voice rumbled in her ear. He still did not look at her, but leaned closer to whisper, “Lest the people learn your ungrateful thoughts.”

Closing her eyes to avoid murdering the demon she’d married, she took a deep breath. The air smelt like fire and spirits and the sweat of colliding bodies. Suddenly, the sight of it all disgusted her. The dancing, the drinking, the living, all of it. Selfish, she knew – others were allowed to live despite Vittoria being denied the very same. But she couldn’t help it. She longed for nothing more than her sister to live, even if it meant sacrificing her life to the demon beside her. There was nothing to be done, however. Her sister was lost forever.

The night dwindled on, interrupted by the occasional violent thought towards her situation. Though, as contrary as it sounded, not all was dark about her time in Hell. She had one bright spot, one flame in the dark. Something she kept locked against her chest for fear of discovery.

Casting her eye across the room, she caught the gaze of the hidden secret. Prince Wrath leaned against the wall from across the room, his eyes flickering as they locked with hers. He was dressed in a sinfully beautiful suit, a pattern of golden serpents slithering up the fabric from the floor. The snakes seemed alive in the firelight. Perhaps they were. A smug sense of satisfaction ebbed through her when she realised they matched. No one else would notice – serpents weren’t exactly an uncommon motif in Hell – but they knew, and it was comfort enough. With a movement, so small she nearly missed it, he tilted his head towards the exit.

A thrill raced through her, paired with genuine, loving excitement. They had not been alone in much too long.

Things had not always been so relaxed between her and the prince of Wrath. Her first few weeks in Hell had been spent furiously glaring in his direction. He’d given her the ultimate cold shoulder until she’d nearly burned from it. She’d been full of fury at his leaving her – at the humiliation she felt from having the human audacity to trust a demon. One day, when they crossed each other in a hallway heading to court, her temper had bubbled to boiling.

She remembered yanking him into a nearby room – he let her, she realised now – and yelled at him for the cruelty of leaving her alone. Of giving her hope and wrenching it away, like a child suddenly filled with jealously over a shared toy.

The sheer incredulity on his face was the first indication she was mistaken. He laughed, a sardonic sound coated in disbelief.

“I left you?” His voice was low. The walls around them seemed to thrum in response to his deadly power.

“I left you?” He repeated, “I gave you all the tools to summon me, witch, and you refused. Too good for my help, perhaps.  I have no more responsibilities to you. Our deal is done.”

Wrath turned to leave, but by some miracle, she managed to dart in front of him. Her body was pressed against the door, the cold stone mixing with the heat she felt roaring off him. Emilia should’ve been afraid, should’ve been trembling in her gifted boots at the sight of him, but she wasn’t. Why, she couldn’t quite tell.

His gaze burned into hers, but her own was just as powerful.

“I tried everything to summon you after what Envy did, and you didn’t come.” She hissed. The wrath of a prince was one thing, but hell hath no fury like a witch scorned. “You left me. I was foolish enough to believe you would ca- that you would come for me once, but I will not be fooled twice.”

The look he gave her was indiscernible. Equal parts rage mixed with... something lighter. If anyone else looked at her like that, she would’ve described it as hopeful. But demons did not hope, no more than they loved.

He was scanning her face with the focus of a battle-hardened warrior. Whatever it was he found made him take a step back.

“What did you do wrong?” He muttered, almost to himself.

“I did nothing wrong,” She couldn’t help but fire back, “I did everything correctly – even used the ring you left for me in the drawer.”

At that, he stilled. Stilled and stopped breathing entirely.

Then, as if talking to someone who’d sustained a head injury, he said, “I didn’t leave you a ring. I left you my house seal, solid gold, of course, but no ring.” He went on to describe where he’d left it – the top drawer beside her bed – but she already knew.

The conclusion settled in her stomach like a stone. Another feeling, one she didn’t let herself scrutinise, unfurled within her.

“Someone didn’t want me to summon you.”

“Close. Someone wanted you to think I wouldn’t come.”

A question hung in the air, so loud neither could bring themselves to give it voice.

Would you have come, Prince Wrath? Would you have come to my aid when I needed you most? When I needed to know you were alright?

Keeping those treacherous thoughts under lock and key, she focused on another facet of the curious mystery.

“Who would it benefit? And who would’ve known what to switch – the house was warded, was it not?”

Silence from her princely counterpart.  

“Would the wards collapse with your ‘death’?”

The look on his face told her all she needed to know. Someone had stolen into the house and replaced the seal with a ring to deliberately throw off their efforts. Which meant-

He hadn’t abandoned her at all. Given her the cold shoulder, yes, when he believed she’d forgotten all about him.

What a hellish mess this all was.

From that moment on, the demon and the witch had become begrudging allies once more. Wrath had been furious one of his brothers would dare interfere with his affairs, and she needed an ally, desperately. While it rubbed against her pride to accept help, she knew it would’ve been foolish to refuse. She would be a vengeful queen, but even queens needed council.

Their alliance had turned to friendship, then burst into royal flames as they look the leap to lovers. In the candlelight of a stolen moment, Wrath had held her with more care than she’d known possible. Still Wrath, still echoing that immense power of his, but softer, somehow. Not gentle, not truly, but tender. It was not love, but it was fire and anger and care all pieced together in a ball of desire.  

Which led her to that moment, as she stole away from her husband’s masquerade ball. She had stayed long enough, and the party celebrated nothing of importance. Rather a show of unity between her and Pride, a display of wealth and power.

As she left the throne room she realised she had no idea where her prince had gone. Back to his rooms? No, they avoided meeting there. Being caught together in casual rooms could be explained away as strategic briefings, but being caught in the bedroom of her husband’s brother... did not leave for much escape room.

Just as she was about to curse his name, a snake slithered around her ankle, causing her to start. Was that Wrath’s laugh, she heard? Looking to her feet, the snake stared back up at her, its golden eyes winking in the candlelight of the hallway.

Of course. Wrath and his dramatics.  

The snake made its way down the hallway, keeping close to the wall to be inconspicuous. It led her to an offshoot of the main hallway, then came to a halt at the final door. The serpent dissolved into golden sparks as they reached their destination. She knocked quietly before letting herself in.

Wrath lay stretched out across a dark velvet lounge, watching her entrance. His mask dangled lazily from his fingers, the ribbon used to tie it brushing across the floor. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, a toned chest peeking out from the fabric.

Deadly, dangerously beautiful.

And hers.

“You look exquisite,” He strode across the room before taking her in his arms. His hands quickly untied her mask before tossing it to the floor with haste. He took in her form for a moment, then tilted his face down to capture her lips with his own.

No matter how many moments they stole, it was never enough.

His kiss was liquid fire igniting the flame of her desire. One hand rested against her back, with the other cupping her face. She gasped against his mouth, revelling in how desperately hard his body felt against hers. Greedy hands slipped up his chest to unbutton the rest of his shirt. Pulling the material away, Emilia broke the kiss for a single second to gaze at her lover.

Smooth, tanned skin met her eyes, followed by a swift appreciation of the hard strength that lay beneath his trousers. He laughed as he caught her gaze, knowing exactly what she was admiring.

He kissed her again, this time grabbing the backs of her thighs and lifting her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist. The taste of him- Taste was her speciality, but there were no words to describe how perfectly Wrath kissed her.

After too long and never long enough, the lovers parted for breath. He still held her against his chest. In this position, she was the perfect height to rest her head in the crook of his neck. Their breathing echoed through the room in perfect harmony.

She could feel every rise and fall of his powerful, tattooed chest. Such lethal power contained within his body, yet he held her with all the tenderness the world could offer.

“You know,” He mused, “We never got to dance.”

“Are you asking?” A sly smile in his direction.

“Yes. Witch, will you dance with me.” He said witch the way men said love. She looked down at him, grinning.

“No. I can’t dance.”

He laughed. Such a bright sound for one bathed in darkness.

“Liar.”

“Fine. I don’t dance, because I’m awful at it.”

A teasing hand ran down her back.

“I’ll teach you.” At her raised brows, he continued with, “A queen must use every skill in her arsenal.”

Lowering her to the ground, he held out his hands for her to grasp.

“Place your right hand in mine, and left against my shoulder.” Even through the fabric of his shirt, she could feel the heat roaring off him. When she did as he instructed, he pulled their bodies together until not even an inch separated them. Emilia was fairly certain this wasn’t part of the dance, but she wasn’t going to interrupt. She quite liked this position, pressed against the prince of Wrath, his breath rustling her hair. His hand settled against her spine.

“This next bit is the most important, do you hear? It is crucial even that beginners like yourself get this right.” He teased, and she scowled back at him, though they both knew it was merely in jest.

“Tilt your chin up so you can gaze adoringly into my eyes.” He grinned down her scowl. “I want you to focus on how handsome I am, how talented, and forget everything else. Except how much you want to kiss me.”

She couldn’t help herself, she laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Perhaps.” His voice turned low and seductive as his hand slid down her spine, drawing her a little closer. “But you’re waltzing like a goddess now.” As he spoke, they started to move. Slowly, he stepped back and followed. To the side, and she followed again. On and on, their little box pattern continued, until Wrath picked up the paced and spun her around.

A gasp left her lips at the movement, but before she could overthink and stumble, he caught her once more with a smile.

“Who are you, and what have you done with the moodiest prince of Hell?”

He shook his head at her words, huffing a laugh as he did. She felt the truth bloom in his chest, he didn’t have to say it. These borrowed moments, these secret trysts... it was happiness, rare as it was, that fluttered between them. They both knew it couldn’t last, but for now, it was real. In that moment, it was all that mattered.

“Teasing witch,” He murmured, and kissed her. Kissed her as if they were not members of two rival houses, as if she was not an unwilling wife to his bastardly brother, as if there were not a chasm of reasons to keep them apart. Tomorrow would bring hellfire, and perhaps regret, but tonight was theirs.

They kissed until night dwindled away into day, and their secret was no longer safe. With the promise of “soon” and an unspoken “I miss you”, Wrath kissed her once more before exiting her side.

The queen of Hell picked up her mask from where it had been tossed across the floor, and stood still for a moment, taking a deep breath. The moment had passed, and she was no longer just Emilia, a powerhouse in her own right, and friend and lover of Wrath’s.

She was the Wicked Kingdom’s vengeful queen, and she would find her happiness once more, or burn the world trying.

-

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[heavenbarnes]

do not adjust your set

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings/Contains: cyber sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbating, toy use, swearing

Word Count: 2.1k

the working title was “bucky and the cam girl”, so that is essentially the crux of this and i hope you enjoy x

Bucky understood the general anger towards social media, the way the world seemed to form an obsession with it and take away from the essence of real life.

But there are things about it you just cannot fault.

There were menial things he liked, the fact he didn’t have to leave bed to ask Sam to make him a coffee, or the way he could talk to his friends in real-time despite them being on missions a million miles away.

However, there was that one thing that he just couldn’t get over.

The world may not have the flying cars that were promised for the future, but you know what the world did have?

The sweetest little lady, sitting pretty and doing the naughtiest things, right on your screen. 

You could keep your flying cars, as far as Bucky was concerned, this was the pride of the future.

It’d been Scott Lang that’d first introduced Bucky to the wonders of internet porn during his immersion into the modern day. In the friendliest nature, he sent him a link and explained the very basics, Bucky picked up the rest on his own.

The videos on the site weren’t exactly, friendly? Most of it was incredibly violent and slightly gross, he wasn’t sure if it was his thing. He liked to get rough with a girl, don’t get him wrong, but something about this just wasn’t doing it.

Bucky wasn’t exactly sure how he stumbled upon cam-sites, but once he did, he realized he’d found his speed. Scrolling through the layers of colorful squares, his eyes glazed over the multitude of beautiful ladies, but none stopped to catch his eye.

He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but he knew he was looking for it.

It wasn’t even clear to him what it was about her, but he knew well and good that she’d not only caught his attention, but the hold she already had on him was something wicked.

Bucky fucking loved the internet.

And that was how it went, joining her room in the evening like it was part of a daily routine. Have dinner, wash dishes, go to bed, watch Honey.Ryder in all her glory.

She went by Honey, and Bucky thought that was incredibly fitting. She was sweeter than anything he could’ve conjured up in a dream and when the sunlight hit her through the window? You would’ve thought she was born to the hive, surrounded by workers and royalty.

Honey was more than pretty, beautiful in ways that Bucky hadn’t been taught the words for yet. Her beaming smile that warmed you from the inside out, could drop into a filthy smirk within a moment, turning that warmth into a crackling flame.

Bucky was grateful for pretty girls armed with pink hitachi wands, and the wonders of the 21st century.

Locking his door behind him signified the end of his worries, it was the end of the day and there were no more expectations of him. He was allowed to slip under the covers of his bed and forget everything except a pretty young girl in matching lace.

Undoing the heavy clasp of his belt, Bucky stripped himself of the day’s pressures. He peeled the jeans from his legs, toeing his socks off in the process. His fingers gripped the neck of his shirt, pulling it over his head and discarding it in the pile.

He brought his hands down his face, a deep sigh leaving his body, making him feel almost new. This part of his day was almost ritualistic, but it was almost imperative, without it he’d be strung up and unbearable.

Sliding between his sheets, he pulled his laptop up the bed towards him. He had her page saved under a folder called “instruction manuals” because Bucky had no idea how to put a password on his laptop.

Somehow he had managed to learn how to tip on this cam-site, but even that was a miracle for him. Thankfully he had learnt, because Honey became simply delightful whenever that tipping bell sounded. He’d give up his life savings if it meant he’d always get to provoke those kind of reactions from her.

Honey lit up his screen in shades of red lace, the dim lighting of his room taking on a rosy hue. Perched up on her knees, she lent towards the camera so all those in the chatroom had the most perfect view down her bra.

“Good evening, how are we all doing tonight?” The lilt of her voice was enough to have Bucky stirring in his boxers.

The other members were quick to type out their responses, Bucky wasn’t one for that, he was there to hang back and throw around his money. He was well aware of the fact this was a one sided arrangement, as much as she drove him wild, he knew she was here for one thing only.

As warped as it might sound, the thought of her taking his money and spending it on herself? That wound him up something wicked.

The minute Honey began to put on her show, Bucky wasn’t able to stop himself from gently running his fingertips along the tense muscle of his torso. He could feel the skin rising in bumps in the wake of his touch, the hardening in his briefs a direct result.

Honey’s voice trailed through the speakers with notes of praise, dripping in arousal as she dragged the straps of her bra down her shoulders. Bucky’s eyes followed the path as he slowly moved his hand closer to where he ached for her.

She sat up, shoulders back to accentuate the curve of her body. Bucky’s mouth damn near watered at the sight of her, heaven sent and always righteous. Her fingers trailed up her side, pushing her chest up until it was threatening to leave the confines of her bra.

Watching her remove the clothing, Bucky gripped himself tight through his briefs, involuntarily thrusting up into his palm. The way she gripped at herself, tweaking on her nipples and whimpering so gently at the feeling. His free hand found its way to the “tip” button.

CallMeSarge has tipped $25

Honey’s eyes lit up as she heard the bell, before her lids dropped into a feverish gaze. He knew she was looking at the lens of a camera, but if he didn’t know any better he’d think she was looking into his soul.

“Thank you so much, Sarge,” The name rolling off her lips like a sigh. “It’s always good to see you.”

He’d never admit it, but the sentiment made Bucky’s chest tighten in an instant. Honey drifted her fingers along the band of her red hot panties, toying with the elastic as she rose up on her haunches.

“Because you’re always so kind, I want you to choose how I take off my panties, Sarge.” 

Bucky nearly choked on his tongue, fingers scrambling to type out his message. He wrote it and re-wrote it a couple of times before finally being able to get his fantasy out.

“lying on your back with your legs in the air, please”

Her eyes sparkled at the kind-hearted command, slowly nodding in agreement with his words.

“Sir, yes sir.” She giggled, left eye dropping down into a wink.

What would’ve been a throwaway comment for her, strummed a chord deep within Bucky that had his hips raising straight up into his hand. A wet spot was forming against the crotch of his briefs, cock aching to be released from the confines.

Honey gently lent back, kicking her legs into the air until her face was out of frame. Her pussy was barely covered by the scandalous fabric and you didn’t have to strain to see the way she was already dripping.

Looping her fingers in the sides, she brought the garment down over her ass, trailing it up along her thighs. Soon her sweet little cunt came into view of the camera, glistening in the lights of her room.

Peeling the along her body, she unhooked them from around her foot and tossed them off to the side. Gripping a thigh in each hand, she spread her legs apart until they were nearly against her chest. Bucky immediately dipped his hand into his briefs, placing a firm grip around his cock.

She rolled back up to sitting, legs still spread to give a good view of her pussy. Soon her other viewers flooded the chat with tips, the sound ringing out every couple of seconds. Bucky didn’t mind, it allowed him to fall back into the crowd, an encouraging donation every now and then.

He focused on the way his fist felt as it twisted along his length, fingers rolling up and over the head as he watched her. She reached beside her and brought that pink wand, switching it on until the low rumble of the vibration was a background noise.

Honey lay it down on the bed, kneeling over it until the head of the toy was positioned at the meeting of her thighs. Sitting down against it, she let out a sharp gasp as the vibrations moved straight through her. 

Bucky sped up the movement of his hand to match the rolling of her hips against the toy. She rode it steadily, soft cries and moans steadily slipping past her lips as she bounced on it.

Her hands ran back up along her sides, cupping her breasts as she thrashed her hips under the pressure. Bucky let his other hand leave the tipping system for a moment, coming to cup his balls and roll them around his fingers.

His stomach was still tightening, which every stroke of his hand he felt the heat spread across his lower body. His thighs tensed as nerve in his body was being touched at every moment.

Honey cried out, head tipping back and pussy quivering at the overwhelming sensation seated below her. She brought two of her fingers to her mouth, dipping them past her lips and wrapping around them. Sucking the digits, the sounds were muffled by the motions.

Bucky stuttered an embarrassing moan, the sight of her pretty lips pouted around her fingers. You couldn’t blame him for imagining it was his cock, perched against her tongue and dripping wet as she gagged on him.

He knew her fingers would feel better than his, they’d grip his cock and rub along the sensitive vein so tenderly. She’d be the one with a handful of his balls, her tongue would twist around them and that fuse within him would burn to the hilt before eruption.

“I’m-I’m gonna-oh fuck,” Honey’s breathing stuttered as her fingers fell from her mouth and gripped at her breast.

The grip on Bucky’s cock got tight, Honey tight. His back arched back off the pillows as his head tipped to the wall. His adam’s apple bobbed in his throat, choking back the cries that desperately wanted to fall into open air.

She tipped her head forward, moans naturally rolling off the tongue as her hips bucked wildly against the head of the wand. Her free hand gripped the blanket, balling it up in her fist as she fell back of the toy.

Legs spread and hand at her clit, she quickly rubbed her fingers as her back continued to rise off the bed. Her toes were curling and jaw slacked as she came with the most bewitching whine.

Bucky delivered one more tip before his tension snapped, ropes of white painting his closed fist as he watched the girl unravel in front of him. His chest heaved as he shook with his release.

Honey, as always, was painted with an almost glow at the aftermath of her high. Skin as sweet as honey, worth all the riches in the world.

Sparring with Sam in the gym, Bucky heard the interruption of Tony giving the grand tour to his new assistant. Tony had told everyone about her, but if he was being honest, he didn’t really take in a whole lot of what Tony said these days.

“And here you’ve got the Falcon and the Winter Soldier.”

Bucky straightened up and turned to face the two, immediately his throat grew dry at the sight in front of him. Honey was standing beside Tony, picking up a side job shuffling his papers.

She gave them both that sweet smile he’d seen so many nights before, a shy hand raising to offer a wave. Sam stepped forward to take the hand to shake.

“Please, just call me Sam.”

Bucky stepped forward to shoulder him.

“And you can call me Sarge.”

[pinky-the-elephant-room]

Always

AN: @ladyraeka​ requested a prompt with All Might being overwhelmed and needy. I’ve been trying to reupload this prompt forever. This is my third time. 😭😭

Warning: All Might x Villainous Fem Reader. Explicit smut, Rough sex, Cock Ring, Switch AM, Switch Reader, and Oral sex. Read at your discretion

๑ ๑ ๑...๑ ๑ ๑ 

He wondered why he came back to her over and over.

Toshinori gripped the bedsheet as he felt her teeth nip at the v line a few inches from his abdomen.

“Y/N,” he gasped endlessly like a devotee.

She, like the merciful goddess she was, finally wrapped her moist, hot tongue around his member. A groan wormed its way out of his chest.

They shouldn’t be doing this. Not now. Not ever.

Y/N was a villainess, a small-time thief. All Might should arrest her and make her pay the consequences of breaking the law.  

Yet again, he found himself drowning in her hands.

Y/N lightly sucked and smacked her lips, lamenting the taste.

“Tsk. Tsk. All Might, should you so easy? Look at you, leaking, and I barely touched you,” she commented while observing the precum dripping from his cock.

God, how long has it been? It felt like he’s was trapped underneath her for hours. The cock ring sat snug at the base of his member, and the effect had his jutting erection look even more impressive than it already was. The sneak had pulled it out after distracting him when she took off her shirt. While Toshinori was busy admiring her naked chest, she asked for permission, which he absentmindedly agreed to. Immediately he felt apprehensive feeling the cold stainless steel against his skin. Now, however, with sensations enhanced tenfold over, it was hard to regret the decision.

“Hmm, you look so good like this. It makes me impatient.”

“Yeah?” he hoarsely replied. “Then take off the ring and fuck me right now.”

Y/N only giggled. “I wonder how people would react, knowing the symbol of peace acts like a needy whore?”

Her hand traveled down to his muscular thigh and dug her nails in.

“But this isn’t about you. So, shut your mouth and let me have my fun.”

All Might let out a hiss that evolved into a moan as Y/N returned to lapping his dick. He relaxed his grip on the bedsheets, lest he tore it again.

The lack of control and not pretending everything was ok was just one of these visits' benefits. Y/N made him forget his burdens for a few hours, which was probably one of the biggest reasons he could not deny her. Of course, the mind-blowing sex didn’t hurt either.

Y/N continued her mission to torture him slowly. This time her hands wrapped around his length and started pumping. He was helpless; the blinding pleasure crippling him beyond measure. His legs started shaking, and he couldn’t begin to make sense of the nonsense that spilled from his mouth—just continuous begging.

“Ride me. Please. Need to feel you on my cock,” Toshinori implored, grabbing Y/N's generous curves and squeezing.

“Nope. Not tonight, hero.”

Once again, Toshinori felt her hot mouth surround him, and it made him growl with frustration. Why did she insist on giving him a blowjob when clearly he couldn’t cum with that cock ring on? Oh yeah, because it got her off seeing him become putty in her hands. Just like how much it amused her to know that no matter what she stole, he would never arrest her. He just took back the stolen merchandise and lectured her on becoming a better citizen in the future. Though, they both knew it was futile since soon enough, she would be on the streets trying to steal again.

He couldn’t help the helpless moan when Y/N hummed and bopped along his shaft. Toshinori was starting to feel lightheaded from the pressure of the cock ring. Though he couldn’t tell with Y/N’s mouth filled with his dick, no doubt his erection was turning a deep purple. Just when his thoughts started to spiral and he thought of using their safe word, a phone alarm starting blaring from the side of her bed.

Y/N looked up and shot an annoyed glance at her phone.

With a slurp that sounded indecent, she removed his cock from her mouth.

“Dang, looks like my fun is up. Oh well, we should try this again.”

Toshinori let out a relieved sigh when Y/N carefully maneuvered the cock ring off. She had mentioned keeping it on for a maximum of 30 mins for his first time.

“So, what should I do to you now?” she contemplated with a mischievous grin.

He grabbed Y/N and flipped her onto her back. “My turn.”

She looked a little dazed before a determined look overcame it.

“No. It's still my turn.” And with that, Toshinori was once again looking up at her.

Throwing her long hair back, Y/N adjusted her position back so that she once again eye level with his member. She sat up a bit and carefully nestled it within her bosom. Her soft, squishy cleavage felt overwhelming in the best way possible. Using her hands to squeeze the two breasts together, Toshinori started thrusting when she gave him a nod to start. Unable to contain his soft moans, he let himself go and just let his body succumb.

“Y/N…” he breathed.

It was embarrassing how quickly Toshinori lost control, but he was on edge for far longer than he liked. Plus, the blame could hardly be placed on him. From the day he saw her, all Y/N had to do was flash those sultry eyes at him, and he was a goner. With the way her attention was solely on him tonight, he was undone in a matter of minutes. With a loud groan, he spilled all over her chest and accidentally onto his own as well.

“Look at the mess you made. Guess I have to clean it up,” Y/N said while grabbing the t-shirt she had taken off earlier.

“Here, let me help,” Toshinori replied, trying to sit up.

“Nah, I got it.”

She kept her firm hand on him and didn’t let him up.

Y/N swiped all the viscous cum off her and then tossed the garment on the floor.

“Now for you.”

All Might shot her a confused look at what she was talking about but became flushed when he realized what she meant.  Y/N exaggeratedly licked the drops of sticky cum that dripped onto his abs. Long and hot, her movements made him catch his breath. He trailed his hands down her legs and parted her to stoke her slippery nub. The clit was hard to get a hold of with her cunt being sopping wet.

“You enjoyed punishing me this much?”

Toshinori tightly grabbed her tit and turned her around, so they were spooning. Without wasting a second, he entered her. Setting an almost violent pace, he fucked her with a single-minded focus. Throughout the night, they continued. Y/N begged just like how she made him. Unlike him who pleaded to cum, she implored for him to stop and let her rest. But he only covered her mouth with his giant palm, intend on breaking her.

๑ ๑ ๑...๑ ๑ ๑

The next morning, Toshinori had to patrol and was unable to stay. So, she gazed at him sleepily as he got ready to leave.

“So, same time next week?” Y/N asked as she twirled her hair.

He paused while lacing up his boots.

“We can’t keep doing this. I'm a Pro Hero. It's not right,” Toshinori replied, sounding not entirely sure of himself. A strange sense of guilt because of their relationship always emerged in the morning. Eating away at his morals and sense of justice.

Her eyes flashed angrily, and she grabbed the collar of his hero costume. Tugging him close, she slanted her lips over his. Y/N bit his lip hard and poured her intense feelings into the kiss. He responded eagerly, almost desperately. She tugged his hair roughly and his scalp burned from the harsh treatment. Continuing to kiss her back, he started regaining control. She was forced to step back with Toshinori crowding her. Just as he was about to grab her firm behind, Y/N stepped away from his embrace.

“I’ll see you later, All Might.”

With that, she pushed him out of the door and closed it.

As he left to go about his day, Toshinori knew he would be back again just like always.

[let-them-read-fics]

I’ve Got You

Requested by Anon: “Could I request a jennie scenario where her girlfriend is scared of water / swimming and jen calms her down like reader did in your ‘safe with me’ work?”

Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,626

Warnings / Misc. -- Some Angst, PTSD / Flashbacks, Anxiety, Crying, Fluff, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: To the anon who requested this: thank you so much! I wrote it all in one go (at like 3am, mind you), and I had a blast with it. I took it a little more on the angsty side, but I really hope you guys enjoy it. Happy reading, let me know what you think!

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Waking up in Jennie’s arms has always been a lovely thing, but something about this time seemed even more perfect than usual. Early morning sunlight glittered into the room, creating an almost dream-like haze, and some of the rays landed on her skin. She looked like an angel -- features slightly puffy with sleep, a small pout on her lips. Her head was against your shoulder, and her arms snaked around your waist, anchoring you close to her body. You always loved cuddling in close with her, the two of you keeping each other warm throughout the night.

Stealing a glance at the clock, you realize that the two of you almost overslept; the girls want to meet downstairs at the hotel’s restaurant in an hour. With that notion in mind, you know what you have to do; reluctantly, you gently shake Jennie to wake her up.

“Jennie, baby, we’ve gotta hurry or else we’ll be late.” 

She lets out a groan, her voice a bit gravelly, and ignores your words, opting to pull you in closer instead. 

“5 more minutes.” The words come out as a mumble, barely intelligible, but you grin. Jennie’s always been the type to sleep in when she can, and you can’t blame her; with as hard as she works, it’s completely understandable.

“Alright, but that’s it! We seriously have to get up after that.”

With a gentle nod, she snuggles into your side again, bringing a hand up to rest against your neck.

As your eyes rake over her delicate features, you start to recall the plan that all of you had decided on for the day. With the girls taking a break from practices and rehearsals to shoot a new show for their Youtube channel, you have plenty to do -- today’s agenda called for ziplining and mini golf, to be precise. Given how close you are with all of the girls, it’s no wonder that they were able to sweet talk their managers into letting you tag along for the ride. Of course, you’ll have to wait until they get all of the filming done to join in on their escapades, but regardless, you’re beyond excited to see them having fun.

With the 5 minutes officially over, you hatch a plan on the best way to wake Jennie up again. You start by gently rolling her onto her back, and proceed to pepper feather-light kisses all across her face. Soon, you feel her stir underneath you, her eyes fluttering open in the cutest way possible. Perhaps in an alternate universe, she worked as a Disney princess instead of an idol; she’s definitely qualified to be one.

“Hey cutie,” she says, voice laced with remnants of sleep, and pulls you in for a quick kiss. One of your arms is around her waist, with the other one propping you up so that you can look down into her eyes. 

“C’mon beautiful, let’s go.” 

Once she’s had a chance to rub her eyes and get adjusted to the light, you scoop her up in your arms and carry her to the bathroom. 

“Oh no, looks like we’ll have to shower together if we wanna make it on time…” Her eyes exude mischief as the words fall from her lips, and you play along. 

“What a shame.” 

She kisses you again, smiling widely against your lips, and the two of you start getting ready.

~~~~~~~  

“There you guys are! It sure took you long enough.” 

Both Jennie and yourself have to bite back your smiles. After a quick apology, the girls are already busy talking about what the day has in store.

“I know we’ll probably be tired after filming, but maybe once we get back here we can go down to the pool to unwind? I saw the spa, too; it looked really nice.” At Rosé’s innocent suggestion, you soon find your heart beginning to palpitate. Anything but that, you think to yourself, your mind already beginning to betray you with intrusive thoughts. 

You can’t blame her for proposing the idea -- after all, it’s a beautiful day outside, and the weather is perfect for swimming. But the problem lies deeper: you’ve never told any of them -- including Jennie -- about your fear of the water (swimming, to be exact). Even thinking of it makes you sick to your stomach, and you suddenly feel a bit overwhelmed. 

“I’m gonna run to the restroom, okay? Be right back.” 

As you stand, Jennie asks if you want her to tag along -- had she noticed your uneasiness? With a quick squeeze to her hand, you assure her that you’ll be fine, and you begin your walk. 

Once in the safety of the bathroom, you take a deep breath to steady yourself as your hands grip the marble surface of the countertop. Memories of that fateful summer day come flooding in, and you’re unable to push them away any longer.

It was a gorgeous day, the sun high up in the sky, shedding its heat down on everything below. Your family had decided to spend the day outside, grilling and swimming, the usual summer traditions that you held every year.

Delicious smells carried over from the food being cooked by your father, and you shouted praise to him from across the yard.

“Smells good, pops!” 

He yelled a thank you back, and your brother got your attention from his place beside you. 

“Wanna race in the pool?”

“You’re on, loser, but don’t cry when I beat you!” You throw him a smug look, and laugh when he shoves you.

“Yeah yeah, you’re going down!” He exclaims as he darts past you, getting a head start to the pool.

“Not fair!” You run after him and jump in, ready to wrestle him and make things even.

The water is cool against your skin, working in perfect contrast with the beams of sun shining down. You’re faced with a rude awakening, however, as you come back up to the surface: your brother is waiting on you, and he pounces. 

In the beginning, the wrestling match is quite fun; the two of you can’t contain your laughter as you push each other around, splashing water at one another. In no time, though, things take a tragic turn; with one particularly hard shove, you’re sent under, falling down the slope of the pool and towards the deep end. The slippery surface of the liner underneath your feet offers no grip, and soon you find yourself struggling for even a breath of air. 

Panic begins to spread throughout your body as you feel yourself losing control; oblivious to the gravity of the situation, your brother is still giggling -- he has no idea what’s actually happening. With each urgent thrash, you’re sent a little further away, out of reach of your brother. 

Shortly after he realizes you aren’t messing around, he attempts to help you. Seeing as how he’s only a couple years older and just a few inches taller than you, he’d also be struggling in the deep end. He soon discovers this fact as he reaches for you, only to almost go under himself. He knows he has to think fast and reassess his plan of action, so he jumps out of the pool and runs further down, closer to where you are. 

“Mom! Dad! Help,” he yells out, searching for something to throw to you. He spots a floatie nearby, and tosses it into the water near you. Unsure of if you can even really make out what he’s saying, he still tells you to grab it.

In a flash, your mother and father are next to him, terrified of the sight before them. Without hesitation, your father jumps in, successfully managing to grab your now limp body and pull you out of the water.

Your breathing is shallow, and your family begins to fear the worst. They shake your limbs in an attempt to wake you, but it doesn’t help. Your mother begins compressions, suddenly very thankful that she took those classes in the past, and your brother and father rush inside to call for help.

Despite it taking a few minutes, her actions are successful, and you come to. With a sputtering heave, you lean to side and cough up all of the water that had made its way into your lungs. Your mother pats your back and huddles next to you, tears streaming down her face. When the others return, they hurry to wrap you in their arms and embrace you. A few minutes pass as you all sit together, everyone happy that you’re alright. 

Being the person that you are, you decide to use humor to deflect and cope with the insanity that just went down. “Welp… that was something. Let’s pretend I won that match, okay?” You suggest, looking at your brother with a trace of a smile playing on your lips. He shakes his head at you, confused at how you’re already joking about it, but he laughs nonetheless. “No way!”

As the memories begin to leave your mind, you attempt to get a grip on yourself; surely you had been away for a bit, and Jennie would likely be coming by to check on you any second now. Grabbing a paper towel from the dispenser, you wet the edge of it, and wipe the sweat that’s formed on your forehead and neck. 

After drying yourself off and calming down, you exit the restroom and make your way back to the table. Jennie sends you a relieved look, as if to say, Thank God, I was worried. You manage to send her a fairly convincing smile, and she seems to accept it. Once seated again, she takes your hand into her own, rubbing her thumb in random patterns over your skin. You relax at the contact, and soon join back in with the conversation. 

~~~~~~~

“Today was so much fun! Remember when they dropped Jisoo in super fast? That was hilarious!” Lisa and Rosé cackle at the thought, whooping loudly with laughter. Jisoo proceeds to smack them on the arm in response, saying, “Oh yeah? Well at least I could actually get a hole-in-one when we golfed; Lisa missed the ball completely!” The maknae glares at the other girl for flaming her like that, but soon they’re all trading playful insults and goofing around.

You hung back a few paces, allowing them to have their fun while your mind drifted back to what would surely happen later that evening. As much as you hated keeping something as big as that from them, you were a bit embarrassed. Out of everything there is to fear in the world, yours is water? On top of that, you didn’t want to let them down or spoil their fun; they’d been looking forward to this little trip for awhile, and you didn’t want to keep them from swimming and having a good time. Completely lost in all of the negative thoughts vying for your attention, you failed to notice Jennie approach you. She had picked up on the scowl that fell across your features, your brows furrowed and lips drawn tight in a line. It was clear that something was troubling you, so she went to investigate. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Her words come out softly, a gentle request for you to share what’s troubling you. When you stay silent for a bit longer than she likes, she stops walking, and you subconsciously do the same. 

Releasing a sigh, your eyes cast away from hers, you respond, “It’s nothing, baby. I promise.”

For a moment, it seems like she’ll give in and accept your answer -- which, of course, is the one thing you desperately want. Knowing you better than that, though, she can see right through you; still, she decides to spare you this time. “I don’t believe that, jagi, but I’ll wait for you to tell me about it whenever you’re comfortable.”

���Thank you, Jennie. I will.” You wrap an arm around her, and she settles against your side as the two of you make your way through the hotel lobby. 

~~~~~~~

This was a mistake in every sense of the word. Why didn’t you just stay in the room and let Jennie come down with the girls? They all wanted you there, but surely you could’ve at least tried to talk your way out of it. 

The 5 of you scour the area surrounding the large pool, searching for a table and some chairs to recline in. Eventually, you see one in the distance, and lead the way there. With each new step towards your destination, the fear within you grows a little larger, and you wonder how hard it’ll be to keep pretending like you’re fine.

Once everyone has set their things down, they take their shoes off and begin to pull their hair up. You opt to sit down on one of the chairs and lay back, attempting to calm your nerves. 

“You’re not coming in, Y/N?” Jisoo asks, her head tilted to the side.

You retrieve a book from the bag you brought down and hold it up, saying, “I’ll just hang here and get caught up with some reading. You guys go ahead.” 

Jennie looks to you, but you simply open the book and pretend to be invested in the pages. Telling her about your fear is definitely not an option, especially at the current moment; if you do, you run the risk of throwing yourself into a panic attack. It’s all you can do to seem calm and collected right now, and you can’t afford to blow your cover like that.

She trails after the girls, albeit a bit dejectedly, and you release a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding. Now able to take a moment for yourself, you look around: the evening is just as spectacular as the day had been before it, the deep colors of the imminent sunset lighting up the sky with their gorgeous patterns. Sunsets have always been one of your favorite things, so you take some time to enjoy the sight. 

Jennie steals glances at you from her spot in the pool, making sure to keep an eye on you. It isn’t hard to see that something’s bugging you, but she knows not to push you to open up; she’s always willing to wait for you. A smile tugs on her lips when she sees your face brighten as you look at the sky, and she wishes whatever’s plaguing your mind would just go away. You deserve to be happy like this, a smile on your sweet face, right where it belongs. She wishes she could take away all of your struggles. 

After a while, you’re now -- ironically -- invested in your book. The sound of Rosé calling for you draws your attention to the pool again, and you meet her eyes. “Y/N, my hair tie snapped. Do you mind bringing me one from my bag?” 

Your breath hitches; you weren’t prepared for that one. With a gulp, you nod to her and attempt to send her a smile. It’s not like you could just say no. Your fingers shake slightly as you rummage through her bag in search of one of the bands, and you work to center yourself again. You can do this. 

As you near the edge of the pool, your legs feel heavy, every step seemingly harder than the last. A strange sensation of numbness takes over your fingers -- something that almost always happens when you get this nervous -- and you subtly shake them to gain feeling again. “Here you go.” You manage to make the words sound cheery despite the inner battle you’re fighting. 

“Thank you, love.” At her reply, you return from the crouched position you had been in when reaching it to her, and you think you’re home-free. About three steps later, as you’re walking back to your seat, everything changes.

“Go long!” Another hotel guest shouts from your left.

Before you can realize what’s happening and get out of the way, a body collides with yours, sending you into the pool. It all happens within an instant, and you don’t even have time to hold your breath for the impact. You hit the water with a splash, liquid already shooting up your nostrils.

Your mind is reeling with memories of that day, sending you into a series of flashbacks as you scramble to get to the surface. Strangely, you feel just like you had that day: the panicky feeling seeping in with no signs of stopping, your lungs burning as they plead for air, the feeling of your limbs thrashing hopelessly at the water. 

Before long, two arms wrap around your waist, pulling you towards the surface and side of the pool. You’d know those arms anywhere: they’re Jennie’s. She pats your back -- just as your mom had all those years ago -- and helps you cough out the water. Thankfully you hadn’t been under long, but it was still terrifying either way. The girls all trade scared looks as they do their best to comfort you and make you feel safe. Jennie can sense that you’re majorly overwhelmed, so she decides to take you somewhere that you can be alone and recover. 

Once out of the pool, she quickly wraps a towel around your trembling body and leads you into the hotel lobby, sitting you down on a secluded couch that’s tucked away from everyone’s view. You eek out a quiet thank you, even in the state you’re in, needing to let her know how much you appreciate her help. She sits down beside you, settling into the comforter, and pulls you up against her chest. Soft, soothing circles are rubbed against your back, her other arm keeping your body snug against hers. 

“It’s all gonna be okay, jagi. I’m here, you’re safe. I’ve got you, I promise.” Her lips are beside your ear -- she knows how distant things can sound to you when you’re having an attack. The hand on your back stops its motions; she brings it up your cheek, rubbing the skin there as you lay your head on her shoulder. Her lips press sweet, gentle kisses against your shoulder, and she thanks the universe when she feels you relax some. “I love you, Y/N. I’m not going anywhere.” Those words bring tears to your eyes, and some of them spill onto her arm; as she feels them, she almost starts crying with you. Seeing you upset like this always makes her emotional, but she does her best to stay strong for you.

“I’m sorry, Jennie.” Sobs rack your body, causing parts of the sentence to come out louder than others. 

“For what, baby?” She pulls back enough to look into your eyes, her hand still on your cheek, moving slowly. 

“That I didn’t tell you about what’s bothering me. I’m afraid of swimming; I had a traumatic experience with it in the past.”

“Oh, baby. It’s okay, you don’t have to be sorry. Do you want to tell me about it now?” Her words are so understanding and kind that you curse yourself for not telling her sooner. You simply nod in affirmation, and begin to relay the story. The entire time, her eyes never leave you, and she holds you close. Anytime a particularly hard detail for you to describe comes up, she strokes your hair and tells you to take as much time as you need. There’s no rush, and she makes sure you understand that.

Eventually, once you’re feeling loads better and are fully calmed down, you meet her gaze again. “Thank you for everything. I love you so much; I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you. You knew just what to do.” She smiles that earth-shattering smile of hers again, and if your heart wasn’t so tired from the time it just had, you know it would’ve skipped a beat. “That’s my job, baby.” Her eyes fall to your lips, in her unspoken request to kiss you. You grin, pulling her in closer, and connect your lips. She tastes like cherries and everything else that’s good in this world, and you revel in the fact that you’ll be the one kissing those lips for the rest of your life. The two of you part, both a little breathless as always, and you rest your foreheads together. “Let’s go see the girls.”

~~~~~~~

After many hugs, tears, and one long story later, all of you are in Lisa’s hotel room. The girls understood your fear and didn’t think any less of you at all; they wished, though, that you had told them sooner. They all want the best for you, and to see you happy, no matter what. Everyone is glad to see you doing better, and the mood is substantially brighter than it had been before. 

“Did Lisa tell you that she beat that guy up for bumping into you?” Rosé asks, a smile on her face.

Lisa’s expression shifts into anger at the mere thought of him, and she says, “He deserved it, I’m not gonna let anyone get away with that.” She shrugs her shoulders, and all of you laugh at the fact that she actually roughed him up a bit.

“Can’t argue with that,” Jisoo says patting your back tenderly and sending you a smile.

“And she’ll do it again, BOP BOP!” Lisa says, causing everyone to burst out laughing. Jennie rolls her eyes at the other girl and buries her face in your shoulder, seeking shelter from the cringe. 

“I love you guys.”

“We love you, too, Y/N.” They all say in unison… at least, as close as they can get to it.

Thanks for reading!!!

[aomineavenue]

Homesick (Miya Atsumu x f!Reader) | 008. healing

Summary: Six years ago, L/N Y/N wouldn’t exactly say that she loves her life. It had always been problematic but her best friend, Miya Atsumu, since she was eight when she moved to Hyōgo, has always been there for her, and she wouldn’t change it for the world. However, things would always fall apart for her ever since, so she should have expected of such. Running away from her problems seemed like the easiest route to take at the time, so what happens when the past comes barging back into her life demanding answers? Will she be able to confront her demons?

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x f!Reader

Updates: irregular.

Genre: Angst, ANGST I LOVE ANGST, a lil bit of fluff here and there.

Warnings: Language, etc. 

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters except for the reader and my ideas. I do not claim any images used for content in this fic, everything goes out to their respective creators unless it is mentioned that it is mine.

Status: completed. | series masterlist

↩ chapter seven bonus | healing | at peace ↪

mia speaks:

We’re getting real close to the end, and I don’t think I’ll be ready to part with Atsumu just yet. But I’m super duper excited to start Stubborn. 

If it isn’t too much, please leave a little COMMENT on what you think of this piece or REBLOG if you like it! Thank you.

Rejection can be defined as an act of pushing someone or something away. It is also considered as something to be experienced on a large scale or small ways in everyday life. In the field of mental health care, rejection most frequently refers to the feelings of sadness, or grief people feel when they are not accepted by others. 

In Atsumu’s case, it was the latter. 

The moment he had decided to leave the party to seek you out, he was more or less, on edge. The fear of rejection was eating him out as he traveled back to Kanagawa, and even then as he stared at the hospital door that leads to Atsuhiro’s room where he assumes you’re most likely already in deep slumber from how late it is. However, that doesn’t stop him from his mission, eventually finding the courage to press his knuckles against the door to knock. 

A minute passed and there was still no answer, a part of him decided it was best to leave, so you can rest but wanting to give it another chance, he knocks on the door once more. The lack of response disappoints him but he diminishes it with a little light of hope, telling himself that you’re probably asleep and it was best to try later. As he was about to leave, the hospital door slides open and his gaze lands on your exhausted, surprised, features. 

He stares at you in adoration and before he could stop himself, the words slip out of his lips.  "I love you." 

Silence engulfs the two of you comfortably, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. He wonders if his beating heart was loud enough for you to hear through the silence. He watches in anticipation how your features shift from confusion to something he couldn't quite recognize. For a second, he berates himself for blurting out such foolishness.

Was it horror? Pity? He couldn't possibly comprehend with his nerves on overdrive, about a handful of thoughts swimming in his mind. If only he knew your heart was beating against its constraints just as fast as his, or that you wanted to throw your arms around him and finally claim him as yours at that very moment. He calls out your name in a stutter to pull you out of your shocked trance, fighting his urge to step through the threshold and pull you into his arms. He holds back the words clawing their way out of his mouth, not wanting to overwhelm you with his sudden burst of emotions. But mostly because he was afraid.

Afraid of humiliation, and of rejection. He was afraid that his feelings for you were no longer reciprocated. Though, he wouldn't blame you. He would understand if he was too late. It had been six years after all, and you, out of the both of you, deserve way better than this. Better than him. 

However, a part of him wishes it were otherwise. He recalls the night he summoned the tiniest spark of courage to capture your lips with his own once more after so long. He doesn't regret his actions, because he realized things that night as your own lips move against his own. It was as if the missing puzzle piece had been rummaged through the piles of chaotic emotions and finally found its rightful place. 

It just felt right. 

If it weren’t for the ridiculous hounds of reporters that interrupted the night, he may have used that opportunity to win you over or at least have a proper talk with you since obviously there are still a lot of unfinished business between the two of you that need fixing for the sake of Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro. 

“What are you doing here?” he hears you question, snapping out of his own thoughts, his shoulders growing tense. 

He slips his hands into the pockets of his coat, wanting to hide his trembling fingers from your sight. “I know I should have reached out sooner, and there isn’t any way I could possibly excuse myself out of that. I’ve probably left you wondering again, and that’s the last thing I want.” 

“It’s the middle of the night, Atsumu.” you mutter underneath your breath, brows furrowing. “What were you doing up anyways?” 

He lifts his shoulders up into a timid shrug, “I was at a party. I couldn’t get you out of my head, so I went straight here. I know it’s late and I should have waited but it’s been days since we last spoke and I couldn’t take it anymore. I—I needed to see you.”

“I don’t know what to say…” you release a heavy sigh, shifting your gaze away from him as you feel your cheeks heat up from God knows what. Embarrassment? Flattery? God, you could only curse at yourself for feeling that way ever since the two of you shared that kiss. 

The corners of his mouth tug up to a small smile, “You don’t have to say anything, just hear me out.” As you give him a nod after lifting your head to meet his gaze once more, he’s hit with a sudden rush of confidence, wondering if this was finally his chance to spill the feelings that had been occupying his thoughts since the two of you reunited. 

It was a mixture of anger and hate the moment he had realized it was you, that was for sure, he’d been frustrated but the one thing that’s been bothering him was the thought of you disappearing again. This time, taking the kids, his sons that he had grown to adore, away from him. The very thought had been enough for him to lower his pride, and a good push from his twin brother. His brother’s words replaying his head. 

‘Quit your moping and win her over before I do.’ 

“I love you,” he repeats his earlier words; this time with confidence, arms extending out to reach out for your hands which somehow, surprisingly for the both of you, you oblige, letting his fingers lace with yours. “I’ve loved you as my best friend the very moment when we were kids when you laughed at me for tripping and having the ice cream slip from my hands and landing on our grumpy neighbor’s bald head. I think a part of me started loving you there and then when you pulled me up from the ground and dragged me laughing away to avoid us getting into trouble.” You stifle a laugh, your eyes scrunching up in amusement at the memory and he couldn’t help but let a Cheshire grin form on his own lips at the sight of your happiness, feeling a sudden surge of happiness bubble in his own chest. There and then, he realized that he truly adored you and that he’s missed you. Missed this. 

Missed the warmth that radiated from just your mere touch. 

“I’ve loved you since we started high school and I know I had a really shitty way in showing that, being so absorbed in volleyball and everything, I don't think I ever deserved you then,” he lets out a sigh, “I never deserved your care. Despite me lashing out because of my own frustrations, you pulled me back into reality just as Osamu could and looking back now, I had been so blessed. And I…” he trails off, tearing his gaze away from yours in shame and his heart skips a beat at your gesture, squeezing his hands in a form of reassurance, “I took it for granted. I realized it too late and…” 

He lets out a sob, lifting his head to meet yours once more and he lets the tears spill from the corners of his eyes. Slowly, he lowers himself down onto his knees and he watches your eyes widen as he gives your hands a squeeze of his own, “Let me prove it to you how sorry I am, please. I know I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve to be a part of Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro’s liv—” 

It almost seemed like time stood still for Atsumu as you drop down to your own knees in front of him, pulling your hands away from his grip, only for you to grip the fabric of his shirt beneath his coat between your fingers, pulling him closer to your body as you lower your head to rest your forehead on his shoulder. Despite the layering of clothes that protected his skin from the cold, he could feel the patch of wetness growing on his shoulder from the tears that flowed from your eyes. “I’m sorry, Atsumu. I’m sorry as well,” those words spill from your mouth, despite your words mixed with sobs and you trying to keep your voice to a whisper to not disturb the residence of the hospital on the floor, he could hear you loud and clear. “I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry for leaving you when you needed me the most. I’m—” you cut yourself off with another sob. 

The sight of your vulnerable state was enough for Atsumu’s heart to clench in its confinement and slowly, his arms snake around your hips to pull you closer to his body. The both of you release a sigh from the warmth. You continue, “You deserve to be loved, Atsumu. You really do. I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I’m sorry for depriving you of the chance to raise such wonderful sons. I—I’m sorry.” 

The cold hospital floor didn’t even bother the two of you. The warmth radiating off of each other’s embrace was enough. 

Home.

The blinding fluorescent lights almost stabs his eyes as he slowly flutters his eyelids open, a hiss escaping his lips from the sudden burst of light. He tries to shield his eyes from such torture by lifting his heavy arm only to let out a groan as a shriek echoes through the small room. Groggily, he turns his head towards the direction of the assault to his ears and blinks his eyelids a couple of times to adjust his sight. 

He suddenly wishes he hadn’t woken up right at this moment. 

As the blonde model notices Atsumu moving from his bed, her eyes widen in excitement at the sight of him awake, trying her best to push through his twin’s protective stance. “Tsumtsum! You’re awake and okay!” she squeals and he winces in response. Atsumu knows his brother well, and from the proximity from between the two by the door, despite his brother’s back facing him, he could tell from his mere posture that his twin had his usual scowl on his face when dealing with the women in his life. He watches from the bed as Yumi turns to face his twin, a scowl scrunching up in her features as she crosses her arms across her chest and stomps her feet. “Can you please tell your brother over here to let me through? I’m your girlfriend!” she huffs. 

“Please pull your head out of your ass,” Osamu snaps and continues to hold Yumi back from entering his brother’s room. “You were never his girlfriend and I’m pretty sure he made it pretty clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with you a few nights ago. So why don’t you do the whole hospital a favor? Shut up and leave, because I’m pretty sure your excessive whining is disturbing the patients.” 

Throughout Osamu’s annoyed speech, Atsumu had successfully pushed himself to sit on the bed without any assistance. He lets out a groan of pain and uses what little strength he has to press his back against the headboard of the hospital bed. Just as Yumi was about to retort, Atsumu calls for her attention from the bed. Yumi was quick to react, looking over at Atsumu. “Yes, baby?” 

Osamu scrunches up his face in disgust and Atsumu can only let out a sigh, not having the energy to argue with her. “Please leave.” 

The hopeful features that were splashed in her features disappear in a second at Atsumu’s command, “B—But…” 

“Leave, I’m not in the mood to deal with you.” he sighs, tearing his gaze away from Yumi to look over at his brother who had turned his head to look at him over his shoulder, his eyes pleading Osamu to get rid of the irritating model from the premises, “And you’ll be hearing from my lawyer regarding a restraining order. Don’t think I didn’t hear from my son how some ‘mean looking lady’ had ambushed his mother yesterday on the way to the hospital.” 

The model can only gape at Atsumu’s words, blinking in confusion. She stutters, “S—So—Son?” 

“Goodbye now,” Osamu interrupts by sliding the door shut right in front of Yumi’s face, using her dazed gaze to his advantage by locking the door. Turning around, he arches a brow in curiosity towards his brother who looked nowhere near comfortable in his position, “Are you sure it was the right move to let Yumi, of all people, that you have a son?” 

Atsumu lets out a frustrated sigh before waving his hand dismissively, “I’ll handle it.” 

“How are you feeling?” Osamu asks as he occupies the seat next to Atsumu’s bed, “Judging by the look on your face, probably shit huh?” 

Atsumu rolls his eyes before giving his brother a glare, “Yeah, no shit there.” 

“It’s expected,” his brother lifts his shoulders up in a shrug as he leans back against his seat, “Your doctor did list down what you can and can’t do after this surgery, and well, what you would be feeling right after, so this is to be expected. Unless, you didn’t really listen?” 

“Of course I listened, ya shit.” Atsumu snaps, brows furrowing. 

Osamu lets a laugh escape his lips, a grin taking place on his lips, “Could’ve fooled me.” 

“Why is my head hurting so fucking bad?” he lets out a groan, fluttering his eyes shut in annoyance for the pounding headache.  

“You don’t remember?” 

Atsumu flutters his eyelids back open to look at his brother in confusion, “What are you talking about?” 

“You fucking got out of bed the moment you were put into this room after your surgery, you dimwit.” Osamu scolds him with a glare, bringing his hands up to massage his temples with the tips of his fingers, “You were told to rest, not to get out of bed. You passed out after the nurse tried getting you back to bed, in the hallway mind you, and Atsuhiko had to witness it. You didn’t know how scared the little boy was after you collapsed head first.” 

Atsumu winces from the tone his twin was using, not that he cared for his brother’s scolding but it seemed the medication that was still in his system made everything sensitive, including his hearing. A frown makes its way to his lips at the mention of his son, “How about his brother? How’s Atsuhiro? His transfusion was just right after my surgery wasn’t it?” 

“Stop talking and let me explain,” he sighs at his brother’s impatience but somehow he inwardly smiles at this side of his brother. 

Since Atsumu had rushed out of the V.League Associations Party to confess his feelings to you, almost everyone noticed a change in him. Sure, he still attended training but according to Coach Samson, Atsumu seemed to be in top shape and even seemed to be more relaxed and enjoying his time on court. Of course, people who knew of the situation Atsumu was in, knew exactly the reason as to why he was in such condition. 

Ever since the two of you cried to each other, keep in mind, in a hospital hallway, on the cold floor, there was an honest shift in the atmosphere that surrounded both of you. It was calmer and full of the warmth that Atsumu and you had been longing. And for the volleyball player, having the chance to spend some time with his kids was a huge bonus. 

It made Atsumu feel complete. 

Especially when Atsuhiko and Atsuhiro had started addressing him as their father. Yes, Atsumu was on different levels of high; the highest peak of Mount Fuji, Cloud Nine, heck he was just so happy he doesn’t want to let this feeling out of his grasp. And he’d be damned if someone tried to take such joy from him. There was no way that he’d let this good thing going for him slip through his fingers for as long as he lived. 

So the very thought of Atsuhiko witnessing him collapse and fearing for his state was enough for his heart to hurt, he’d never meant to worry the little boy. As the father, shouldn’t he be the one worrying for his sons? He knows what his kids are thinking, having them (mostly Atsuhiko) bluntly express their fears of their father disappearing again. So the sight of him fainting in front of Atsuhiko had probably sent the little boy into panic. He’d have to make it up to him soon. 

“It’s too soon to tell if the transfusion was a success,” Osamu stars, watching his brother inhale sharply as anxiety bubbled in his chest. “But so far, everything looks good. I was with them earlier when the doctor came in and he said he’ll be staying in for another day to monitor him. If everything’s good, he can leave the hospital and return every 6 months until he doesn’t need to have a transfusion anymore.” 

He nods slowly, “And what about if the transfusion isn’t successful?” 

“I don’t think that would be the case,” Osamu lifts his shoulders up in a shrug and gives his brother a reassuring smile, “Atsuhiro and you are a match, so far there aren’t any complications. It’s a success, ‘Tsumu. Don’t worry too much. Focus on getting better. Oh, and actually…” 

Atsumu raises a brow at his twin, “What? You tell me not to worry and end your sentence like that? I ought to smack you if my body isn’t sore as fuck.” 

A chuckle escapes the other twin seated on the chair next to the bed, a sly grin forming on his lips as he remembers the conversation from earlier. “Mom may, or may not be already planning your wedding.” 

He splutters, eyes growing wide. He feels his cheeks heat up from the sheer thought of approaching you after his own mother had probably brought up the idea of marriage to you while he wasn’t present to stop her. Suddenly, he’s embarrassed to face you. “Please don’t tell me she had been pestering about marriage with my sons present.” 

A smile curls up on Osamu’s lips at how his twin addresses the younger twins as his sons before he shakes his head in response, “Nah, Suwa-san took Atsuhiko out earlier for the day and I was keeping Atsuhiro occupied.” 

“Suwa-san?” 

Osamu rolls his eyes, “Reiji, purple haired dude that’s always with your girlfriend.” 

“She isn’t my girlfriend,” he grumbles underneath his breath, frowning. 

His twin lets out a laugh as he teases, “yet. You two are practically married.” 

“I don’t know…” he lets out a sigh, “Do you think she’d be happier with that Reiji guy? He’s been with her ever since…” 

“You’re lucky you’re in a hospital bed or else I would have kicked your ass for that negative pea brain of yours,” Osamu grunts, unamused by his twin brother’s words. Sure, he often teased his twin but he especially didn’t like it when Atsumu put himself down over something serious. “Don’t go there. Just don’t. The two of you have talked things out haven’t you?” 

“How do you—” 

Osamu cuts him off with a dismissive wave, “She told me. We talked when you were being prepped for your surgery. Just be patient, you can’t rush these things and don’t you dare decide for her either.” 

“When did you become the boss of me?” he scoffs from the bed, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling, “I just want what’s best for them.” 

Knock. Knock. Knock.

His twin stands up from his seat upon hearing the knock, thinking it’s probably the doctor or you. Before he could unlock the door however, he glances back at his brother over his shoulder, “Stop moping and just be there for them whether you end up with her or not.” 

Atsumu watches the hospital door slide open and his heart swells at the sight of you and Atsuhiko and he instantly wants to reach out when he notices the little boy’s lower lip quivering as he peers into the room. As the little boy’s gaze lands on Atsumu, the little boy rushes forward frantically. 

“Daddy!” he cries out, throwing himself onto Atsumu’s body as soon as he gets near enough. Atsumu couldn’t even bring himself to complain of the pain from the impact due to the sight of his son’s distress, reaching out to run his fingers into the little boy’s hair, “You okay now? You scared me, daddy! You fell and you wouldn’t wake up! I tried waking you up but you wouldn’t!” 

He tries his best to soothe the little boy who was clinging onto him from the side of his bed but Atsumu couldn’t contain the excitement he felt upon hearing Atsuhiko address him as his father over and over. He realizes that he probably wouldn’t ever get used to it but he wouldn’t mind hearing it all the time. “Daddy is doing much better. I’m sorry for scaring you, buddy.” 

“Good, daddy. You and Hiro should get better so we can start playing together,” he nods his head happily, his mood shifting from his gloomy one upon hearing his father was okay. The little boy scrunches up his features into a look of distaste as he straightens himself up to stand, folding his tiny arms across his chest, “Daddy, the mean looking lady came again! She was yelling at mommy and saying mean things! Uncle Bo helped and I wanna help too but mommy said kicking someone isn’t nice.” 

Atsumu turns to look over at you with a raised eyebrow as Atsuhiko finishes his explanation and you simply shook your head. Giving Osamu a small smile which he returns before leaving the room for the three of you. You turn your gaze back at the man who was waiting patiently for you to answer as you slide the door shut behind you, letting out a tired sigh. “That woman is not worth our time to discuss further, I’m taking legal actions though. How you ended up dating someone like her is beyond me.” 

“She didn’t do anything to Hiko or you?” he asks, worry laced in his voice as Atsuhiko slowly crawls into the bed and snuggles himself into his father’s side. Atsumu notices you about to reprimand the little boy which he simply shakes his head towards your direction, lowering his head to press a kiss to the top of the little boy’s head. 

“She couldn’t even if she tried,” you let out a snort as you approached the bed. He extends his arm out, his hand reaching for yours which you gladly take with your own and giving it a gentle squeeze, “You feeling okay?” 

He nods, “A little sore but I guess that’s to be expected. How’s Hiro? Should you be leaving him on his own?” 

“He’s doing fine, sleeping and our moms are busy bonding in his room, they said they’ll keep an eye on him,” you reassure him, “Plus this little one over here has been pestering me all day to check up on you.” 

He feels his shoulder relax and a sigh of relief escapes his lips, lacing your fingers together with his as he lifts his gaze from Atsuhiko to look up at you, “I’m glad to hear that.” 

“I’m glad to hear you’re doing fine,” you counter as the corners of your mouth tug down to a frown, “You gave us quite a scare, you know. We thought something had gone wrong with your surgery that caused you to collapse, turns out you were just being the stubborn idiot that you are. You really haven’t changed one bit.” 

He places his other hand on his chest, feigning a hurt expression as he juts his lower lip to a pout to gain some sympathy from you which you simply responded with a shake of your head. The pad of thumb brushes against your skin and he lets out a defeated sigh, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare either of you. I just wanted to see Atsuhiro.” 

“I understand,” you nod as you finally take a seat on the edge of his bed, watching Atsuhiko listening intently to the two of you, his brows furrowed as if he was trying his best to comprehend the conversation. “Just don’t do it again.” 

“I promise,” he nods, flashing you a cheeky grin which you just roll your eyes at. 

Atsuhiko interrupts the conversation by tilting his head to look up at his father as he remembers the task his Uncle Bo had given him when he had asked a particular question after encountering the mean looking lady moments ago before begging you to visit Atsumu. “Hey, daddy?” 

“Yeah buddy?” Atsumu asks, his heart swelling with pride upon hearing the word daddy once more, shifting his attention back to the little boy snuggled comfortably against his side. 

“What does bitch mean?”

[svtkillua]

milk and tea > 2

rating: [pg-13 / angst] genre: soulmate au pairing: todoroki shouto x reader warnings: cursing, heartbreak, angst! word count: 9.5k

listen while you read here! join the discord!

1 - chap 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 [final]

The pendant hanging from your neck felt heavier the longer you wore it, like the days of the week that had ticked past added pounds to the object by the hour. You simultaneously adored it and loathed it, constantly catching yourself staring at it and fiddling your fingers around the chain. You loved that it reminded you of him, that the present special from Todoroki somehow made you feel like you yourself were special, like the gift was as close to a boyfriend like gesture you’d ever get. It made you feel adored, like the silver chain was a harsh contrast to the gold on your palm because it was a different reality, one that for a moment didn’t seem like a daydream. You hated it, however, when you stared too long and remembered that a few minutes after he slipped it on your neck he left to be with her. You loathed it for being a constant whisper reminding you that it was just a necklace, just a birthday present, not a declaration of love in the form of jewellery, but a kind gesture between friends. Because that was all you could be to Todoroki as hard as you tried to imagine otherwise. 

“Are you listening to me?” 

Your head lifted from its downward angle, eyes trailing from the wooden table top to the wide windows of the cafe, the sounds around you feeling too loud for the small space. People were tucked in at all the tables, several offices on the upper floors of the building leading to a packed cafe every lunch rush. You almost always came down to grab coffee and a bagel, used to the hoards of people that blended in with the beige and brown walls, familiar with the scent of roasting coffee beans and the hum of the espresso grinder. You shifted in your seat as you looked back over at your friend, setting down the sandwich you’d been picking at, brushing your hands together in a silent clap in an attempt to brush off the crumbs. 

“Sorry, Izuku.” Your head shook side to side as you eyed his pouting features, cracking a smile at the way he huffed out a breath of air, lips puckered like a child who hadn’t gotten their way. Midoriya was perhaps your closest friend next to Todoroki, someone who had never pitied you but rather tried to fill your life with brightness. It was no wonder his soulmate was so enamored with him, you couldn’t blame her, his personality was affectionately child like, so awake and full of life you almost envied him for his eternal positivity. “I sort of zoned out.” 

“It’s alright, I was kind of rambling to be honest.” He chuckled with a shrug, the sweater he had on bunching slightly around his neck, the fabric looking too thick for the warm spring temperature. He had on wide, round glasses, his hair a bit more curly than normal from the small amount of humidity in the air, fingers wrapped around a huge plastic cup full of peach tea. “How was your birthday? We missed you at the bar.” 

“Okay I guess.” The fidget you made in your seat was involuntary, fingers trailing over the line on your palm out of habit. The light was hitting it just enough to make it seem to glow, the gold glinting in your irises as you flickered a glance between it and Midoriya, shoulders bobbing in a shrug. “Todoroki came over for a bit, we had a pizza.” 

“That sounds like a boring birthday celebration.” 

“Well I didn’t exactly feel like throwing a wild party, Midoriya.” Your eyes rolled at him, fingers drumming into the table top as you glanced at someone who waved in passing. Part of you felt anxious, wondering where Todoroki was even though you knew he was more than likely working out. He tended to work during his lunch breaks most days, which was what got you in the habit of bringing him coffees and snacks on your way back to the office across the hall. 

“Are you okay?” His palm landed on top of your knuckles, the gesture innocent but filling you with a bit of warmth, the genuine flash of concern on his features almost comforting. “I mean, I know you’re probably upset but, you know.” 

“I don’t know.” You sighed, shrugging and glancing at his soulmark, the bright blue on the face of his hand in a swirly pattern, almost mimicking that of a flower. The color bloomed against his skin tone, like a spot of blue sky poking out from clouds on a summer day, Midoriya himself the ball of sun beaming through the air. “It’s not like there’s much I can do to change how things are, everything just feels wrong. It feels unfair, like something’s not making sense how it was supposed to. I don’t know how to be okay when I’m supposed to be happy alone. I don’t feel happy alone, I feel lonely.” 

He nodded slowly, hand retreating to instead pick at his sweater, cup lifting as his lips wrapped around the straw and he took a gulp, adam’s apple bobbing. His eyes danced around the room as he debated what to say, eyelids fluttering as he blinked when the sun hit him directly in the face. You could almost see his thoughts forming, could picture the words as his messy scrawl put them down in his head, the ink bleeding into his tongue as he set his cup down to speak them into existence. 

“Just because you don’t have a matching mark doesn’t mean you have to be alone.” He reasoned, nodding once towards you with a half hearted smile, his gaze flickering over the planes of your face while you tore your focus away. You knew what he was referring to, that several people without soulmates had ended up together, that people with circumstances like yours made their own destiny and chose their own path. It was illegal to not be with your soulmate but if you didn’t have one all bets were off, anyone else who was alone was up for your taking, but somehow that idea didn’t sound right in your head. 

Maybe it was because you’d gotten so hung up on Todoroki but you didn’t feel like you were meant for just anyone, didn’t feel like you could make a deep connection with someone even if you could sit and talk to them for hours. Most everyone you heard of who didn’t have a soulmate was content being alone, didn’t feel so desperate for affection as you were, didn’t long for someone to hold them and be beside them all their life. For everyone else like you, it sounded like they were indeed made to be alone and they liked it that way, but you loathed it. 

You constantly felt lonely, like the rest of the world had left you fend for yourself, like everyone else was paired off and had forgotten you were still there. It was hard to go outside and see people holding hands, getting close to the person that was meant for them. It stung to hear your friends had met their match, to go to their weddings and smile wide knowing that it would never get to be you standing there in white across from your soulmate. It made your chest burn to picture yourself marrying someone you weren’t made by the universe for, to look at the mark on your hand and know you’d never see it on another person for as long as you lived. It was cruel, like going out most days were torture to the beating muscle in your chest, like being happy was going to be one of the hardest challenges to achieve in your life. 

The only thing that made you feel that way was Todoroki, and anymore that happiness came laced with the longing that you’d grown for him in your gut. You’d fallen so in love with Todoroki that it was hard to see past that now, that picturing him was enough to make your pulse quicken and throat constrict. Now the mere idea of watching him marry someone else made your eyes burn, fingers itching to feel him when you pictured someone else touching his beautiful skin you’d grown so attached to. Knowing he was a few floors up in the gym made your lips pull into a faint smile, almost like you could feel him there, could sense the warmth that radiated from his body and imagine it baking your skin. 

Todoroki made you feel things others wouldn’t, and in a way perhaps that was why you’d found yourself growing so infatuated with him. That was always how they made soulmates seem in movies, like they would understand you in facets others couldn’t, that they would be the person that just clicked into place, like a missing puzzle piece you’d finally found. You couldn’t understand how you’d fallen so in love with someone who wasn’t meant for you, couldn’t grasp that even though you felt all the things you were supposed to feel for a soulmate, he wasn’t that person. Things had been hard before he met Momo, but afterwards it all felt worse, the love in your chest like a weight that made your feet drag and posture slouch. 

“I gotta get back upstairs.” Your head lifted as Midoriya stood, your body following suit as he pulled you into a quick hug, smiling faintly with a nod as he walked off right after. You remained in place for a beat, watching his figure with a sigh, jealous of him, jealous of how easy he tried to always find a bright side in his head. You envied how second nature it was for him to be positive, to find a light in a room full of dark. It’d never been that way for you, never so easy to become a spark that filled everyone with vibrancy, if anything, you’d become the one that always turned the lights off. 

After grabbing another coffee and pastry from the counter, your feet carried you up the flights of stairs towards the office, the steps resonating with loud smacks in the half empty staircase. They complimented the sound of your heart beat as it pounded in your ears, matching in rhythm the quicker you ascended them, the heavy door slamming behind you serving like a crescendo to the song being created behind your rib cage. This had slowly become your favorite part of the day, the short walk down the hall towards the double paned glass doors facing your own, admiring the way the sunlight sprouted through them and created hazy shapes on the carpeted floor. It looked so welcoming, like it was the perfect package just waiting for you to unwrap it, like the universe knew someday Todoroki would work there so they created an entry as warm as he was.  

You spotted him as soon as you walked inside the studio room, waving at the receptionist as you strolled past her and further into the space, fans running that created a quiet hum that mixed with the clicking of cameras. He was always tucked back into the corner office whenever he was taking a break, the one directly across from the main studio space, the room with the most windows that overlooked the streets below even if he insisted he didn’t like heights. He was hunched slightly over his desk, camera laying idly beside his laptop as he moved his finger over the keyboard, brows furrowed together and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. His hair was pushed back off his forehead though pieces fell forward, like he kept fussing with it, lips parted as he exhaled, the angle of his jaw accentuated by the light streaming into his space from outside. He was oblivious to your approach, completely deaf to the outside world as he poured himself into his paperwork.

And gosh was he stunning. 

“Todoroki?” 

His head lifted in a flash, lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he blinked rapidly until he focused on you, the curve of his lips spreading until his cheeks bunched upwards, eyes slipping faintly into half moons. The pang of guilt you felt for interrupting him washed away as he took his glasses off and moved to stand while you waved him off, moving closer to set his coffee and lunch down beside his computer. He was staring at you now as incessantly as he’d been doing to his computer, the sound of his foot tapping into the hardwood floors beneath his chair faintly reaching your ear when he sank back into his chair. 

“You didn’t have to bring me lunch.” 

“I knew you wouldn’t eat if I didn’t.” Your shoulders rose and fell with a faint laugh falling from your lips as you used one hand to push your hair away from your face. You looked his way long enough to catch his gaze before tearing your own away, pretending you didn’t feel the way his focus was making your esophagus feel too tight, like your heart had made a new home there. “Someone’s become quite the workaholic lately, hm?” 

“I have not, I just have a lot to do and I’m too tired to continue exercising.” His fingers landed on top of yours as you took a step back to move towards the door, focus shifting back onto his features as he nodded once in your direction. You swallowed hard, trying to force down the rock forming in your throat as he slipped his fingers between your own long enough to give your hand a squeeze with your palms flushed together. It was almost sad how incredible a him barely holding your hand could make you feel, how the smallest amount of affection from Todoroki felt like he’d dropped to his knee and asked you to be his forever. “Thank you though. Stay for a few minutes and keep me company?” 

He hardly had to put up an argument even if you should have shaken your head no, fingers slipping from his grasp as you sunk into the chair across from him, the desk serving as a barrier to separate your bodies. His posture relaxed once you were seated, lips wrapping around the opening of his cup as he snapped his eyes shut and took a quick sip, adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he swallowed and dropped the cup back down. The shirt he had on was gray, like the color of a sky after a thunderstorm in the middle of the summer, the colour making him look more drained as he pushed his wheeled chair slightly back from the confines of his desk, dark jeans clinging to his legs. 

The simple smile that flashed over his features as the paper bag crinkled open between his fingers made your own cheeks tug upwards, nothing but a pastry and the spare half of your bagel shoved inside but it was enough to make him feel appreciated. He always looked grateful when you dropped him off a coffee or snack, always made a point of thanking you for days after, like you’d single handedly made the world spin for him. It was one of the million things you loved about him, how humble he was, how he considered every act of kindness he received as a gift, one he couldn’t wait to return the first chance he got. 

“So what are you working on that’s so interesting?” His head rose when you spoke, eyebrows furrowing together as his lips pursed, jaw moving while he chewed on the sandwich. It made you grin, his cheeks full like a hamsters as he shuffled forward and swiveled his laptop around for you to see. The screen illuminated an article of breaking news covering crimes in the neighborhood, images of black and white mugshots dotted around the paragraphs in order to send a scary effect across to the reader.

“New villains showing up everywhere we least expect.” Your gaze flickered over to him when he spoke, eyes following the way his tongue poked out from between his lips, licking a crumb away from the pink flesh. He nodded his head once towards the screen before you focused back on it, voice thick as he half yawned, arms stretching forward and straining against the fabric of his shirt. “They want to be mysterious, I guess, but they’re not too good at covering their tracks. Quite an easy job for all of us right now.” 

Your head bobbed in a nod as he trailed off his speaking, lifting the bagel back to his lips as you leaned back in your seat and turned slightly to look out one of the windows. You had to squint, the sun steaming in just high enough to cover your face in heat, burning your irises in comparison to the pale coloring of the room. It felt peaceful, your eyelids drooping shut and arms folding over your chest, heartbeat at a steady rhythm while you listened to Todoroki’s quiet humming as he ate. For a moment you let yourself pretend you were at home, that the pair of you was married and this was any regular work day evening, content just spending your time together not speaking, because the love you felt in your chest said enough. 

It was so easy to fall into with him, the lull of security he provided simply by being there was too comforting to fight off. It’d become so natural to tune out the rest of the world when you were alone with Todoroki, like second nature to forget that the day dreams in your head were complete fiction. Being alone with him made it feel like it could be real, like the way your heart rate spiked when he laughed was normal because it was made for him to hold. His presence raised up the bubbles of hope in your chest until you felt like you were floating, like he’d placed you on top of a cloud and was letting you feel that sense of love you’d never really get, like he was letting you pretend your feelings for him were reciprocated without him even knowing it. 

It was like you craved Todoroki as much as you wished you could get away from him, like you wanted to fight the pull he had on you but feared how you would continue to breathe without him there giving you oxygen. He was simultaneously becoming your perfect dream and your nightmare, and slowly the two ideals were mixing into one muddled mess of emotions you were having trouble sorting through. You weren’t sure how to separate your feelings for him from reality anymore, weren’t sure how to continue being in his life without completely destroying your own heart in the process. 

A quiet click made your head move, eyes rolling as you groaned loudly and raised your hands to cover your face, Todoroki’s laughter mixing with the sound as he continued snapping away at you with his camera. You could hear his chair scraping against the wood as he stood up, footsteps indicating he was moving closer to you as your legs lifted, knees bent to try and curl yourself into a ball on the chair. 

“C’mon, stop covering your face, the lighting looks great right now.” 

“Knock it off.” 

“Please?” 

It felt right, with just the two of you there giggling over something so pointless, like that was how it was supposed to be. It felt like this was what the universe was supposed to have done, that all along it should have made the pair of you for the other, that you should have been the one that got to make him laugh like that every day. It felt like everything, for a moment, was how it was supposed to be, how your heart had decided it was supposed to be from the first moment you saw him in the park. Just you and Todoroki and no one else, nothing there to interrupt you besides the sounds of your own hearts beating. 

“Stop!” You laughed at his insistence, peeking out from between your fingers to find him bending closer to you, his cheeks pulled into a wide smile as your eyes connected for the second he lowered his camera slightly. He took another picture, you could tell by the sound of his shutter releasing, another groan falling from your lips, this one laced with laughter as he reached a hand out and started gently tugging at your wrist. The contact felt electric, like he was shooting fireworks off that were spreading up your arm and making your heart skip a few beats out of surprise, his laughter only serving to heighten how light everything felt.  

“Todoroki?” 

It was laughable how quickly your mood could plummet, the air no longer feeling light and delicate, but rather too thick for you to breathe in, spine locking up as your legs dropped back to the ground with a gentle tap from your shoes meeting the wood. Todoroki’s touch on your wrist vanished, his laughter trailing off as he stood upright and cleared his throat, your eyes burning into his as he stared at you before focusing off at the door. You didn’t want to look at who it was, didn’t want to see her smiling face when Todoroki moved past you to give her a hug, just knowing it was happening right beside you enough to make your fingers dig into your thighs. 

“Momo, I didn’t know you were stopping by.” His voice was pleasant but you could tell he was surprised, his posture stiff as he slowly came back into your line of sight with her in tow. You focused on her back at first, on the way her hair was tied up into a tight bun, on the clasp of her necklace that was catching the light as Todoroki pulled a chair over from the corner of the room for her to sit in. 

“I wanted to bring you lunch.” Her voice was delicate, like her full volume was someone else’s whisper, her arms folding in her lap as she sat down, Todoroki’s palm on her lower back as she did so enough to make you swallow harshly. She was wearing one of his jackets, you noted, that brown one with the elbow patch you’d sewn on for him when he ripped it during a night out. “I hope I’m not interrupting something.” 

“You’re not.” 

Her head whipped over to focus on you once you spoke, the smile on your lips feeling as ingenuine as it did uncomfortable, your fingers weaving together as she flashed you an tense grin with her nod. She was holding a paper bag with Todoroki’s name written on it in swirly black ink, a heart scribbled beside the T with a smiley face inside. She passed it off to him, her fingers brushing his own as he nodded in appreciation, setting the bag beside your own crumbled up one, it almost seeming like a metaphor for the two of you, one that made you exhale like a deflating balloon, the false sense of comfort you had now ripped away. Todoroki cleared his throat awkwardly, a silence falling over the room that made you itch to escape it, like the walls were closing in on you the longer you sat there watching him glance between the two of you. 

“Well, good.” She pressed her lips into a thin line as she nodded and looked over at Todoroki, your eyes flickering to her palm, seeing her soulmark when she flexed her fingers back and forth mid air, like she was trying to stretch out a muscle. Your own palm suddenly felt like it burned, like your subconscious was reminding you of how badly you wished you had that mark. You would have given anything to be in Momo position, to be the person that Todoroki would marry and have a forever with, to be the person Todoroki loved so strongly it was all consuming and soul changing. “How’s your day been?” 

It almost felt like you weren’t there, watching Todoroki turn his screen towards Momo as he started rambling on about his morning, like you were seeing a scene from a movie you didn’t want to be watching. You could almost picture them like that, like this was how they’d be as the years passed, chatting in their kitchen while the rest of the world fell away behind them, their skin growing wrinkles but their palms staying matching and pristine. It stung, like the bubbles of hope you let yourself build up were all being popped one by one, like wasps were stinging your insides just to put you back in your place. 

“Todoroki we need you out here for a second?” A girl poking her head into the room looked apologetic as she motioned for Todoroki to follow her, his eyes darting between your own and Momo’s before he was slipping out. You wanted to grab his wrist and drag him back in, wanted to force him to stay and serve as a barrier protecting you from talking to your own worst fear. Momo was everything you wished you were, the person you were most envious of and found yourself loathing when none of this was her fault. 

She couldn’t help it the universe had paired her with Todoroki, she couldn’t help it that she was made for him and you weren’t. It wasn’t her fault that you didn’t have a soulmate and yet on the nights you laid alone in bed you found yourself blaming her, because she had gotten the person you craved like a drug. She couldn’t change the fact that you were made to be alone, that you had fallen in love with a man that was made for someone else, someone you could never be. You could blame her all you wanted but none of this was Momo’s fault, and deep in your chest you knew that, you just wanted someone to be mad at. Disliking her had seemed the easiest way of avoiding the demons you liked to ignore, the truth of knowing that you were meant for no one and there was no reasoning behind it too much for you to accept. You wanted a cause, wanted an explanation, even if you’d never truly get one. 

And through your jealousy that temporary bandage of an explanation had become her. 

“He works too much sometimes, don’t you think?” Her light voice made you lift your head, eyes flickering over her features as she stared at his desk, drawing on the surface with the tip of her finger. She had a half smile on her lips as she shook her head side to side, laughing faintly as she adjusted in her seat, the dark jeans she had on almost matching the ones Todoroki had on, pale pink sneakers poking out beneath the ends of them. “I wake up in the middle of the night sometimes and find him typing away on his laptop.” 

You tried to laugh, tried to ignore how your chest stung picturing them in bed together, tried to pretend the mental image didn’t make you want to curl up in a ball and scream until your lungs gave out. She meant well, she was trying to make conversation rather than sit there in silence in her boyfriends office, but you doubted your amusement was even half convincing. You weren’t sure it was possible to be genuine when your insides felt like they were rotting, weren’t sure if you could even be truly happy when your soul had stopped trying to a while ago. 

“Yeah, he gets sucked into it sometimes.” Your head bobbed in a half nod as you focused back down on your legs, tracing circles around the red scratch on your knee from when you bumped into your bed frame earlier in the week. 

“I’m sure it’s just because he’s so passionate about it, but sometimes it worries me. I’d hate to see him overwork himself.” She trailed off, eyes focused on you judging by the slight shift in voice and the subtle goosebumps rising on the back of your neck. You lifted your head to lock eyes with her, hands overlapping each other in your lap as she pressed her lips into a thin line, like she wasn’t sure what she wanted to say. “Does he mention it to you? That he’s tired or unhappy?” 

Todoroki was never really one to share emotions with people, not the ones that he didn’t deem good or important enough. It took you months of persistence before he opened up about any problems he had, any unhappiness that lingered in his heart. He took a lot on himself, held the weight of the world on the tops of his shoulders but still stood tall with a smile on his face. He didn’t like admitting he needed help or comfort, besides with a few people, and somehow you’d become lucky enough to be one of them. 

You’d become the friend who he called in the middle of the night to talk about the things that were keeping him up. You’d become the one who heard of all the problems his parents had caused for him, the one who listened to the things he disliked about society and the way the world worked. You were his confidant and his comfort blanket, and in many ways he was yours, the one person who never judged you when the mark on your hand made you want to ball your eyes out. He never pushed away from you when the rest of the world sent you judging looks, never let others assumptions change the way he acted around you. 

All he wanted at the end of the day was to be happy, and for the people he cared about to feel the same. You knew how heavily it weighed on him when someone was upset or unhappy, and sometimes he felt the need to try and fix things himself. He always went out of his way to do extra work if it’d help his co workers, always volunteered to be the one paying for other’s lunches so it wasn’t a burden. He always went to his family dinners even if they made him miserable, always put up with his parents nasty remarks and harsh judgements because he thought he had to. He pushed back in little ways, with his career and choice of friends, but sometimes you wondered if it was enough for him. 

He had a heart that was surely even more golden than the shimmering line on your palm, one that shined like a lighthouse in the dead of night, but also weighed heavily in his chest. Sometimes you wondered if he was stopping himself from being as happy as he made most everyone else. You questioned, if he could have anything in the entire world, what he would want, what the secret wishes were he had that he’d never uttered out loud. 

If you could wish for anything, you would wish for him. 

“No, but I don’t think he would admit working too much is a problem anyway.” She nodded, glancing away to focus out the window at your response, the light falling over her features like a spotlight on a beautiful painting. “I should get going, my lunch break is ending soon.” 

Her head moved up and down as you stood, eyes not turning towards you as you tugged down on your skirt, making sure it hadn’t ridden up. She was outlining her soulmark, you noticed, the dark lines stretching along her palm almost dark as the night sky, her teeth digging into her bottom lip. You could picture it on Todoroki’s, could see the mark you’d memorized and tried to wish away like a movie playing in your subconscious. They probably traced eachother’s all the time, probably had dreamed their whole lives of meeting the other and lucky for them they had. Lucky for them they had someone who matched them, they got to love the person they wanted to love and didn’t have to hide it under blankets of self loathing.

From the time you were a child it was all you heard about, soulmates, how magical and wonderful it would be when you met them. Everyone talked about it, about how that one person was the only one meant for you, society ensuring that with the laws preventing non-soulmate relationships over a certain age. There were people who didn’t like it, those who found the laws oppressive and out of date, considering most people ended up with their soulmate anyway, but fighting back was pointless. It was all so ingrained into society at this point, the nursery rhymes you’d sing at recess even laced with the messages of your one and only being the one you matched marks with. 

They always said the only person you’d truly love would be your soulmate, and maybe that was why ignoring how strongly you felt for Todoroki hurt so much. Because he wasn’t your soulmate, he didn’t match your mark and yet you’d fallen so damn in love with him it seemed impossible for your brain to accept he didn’t belong with you. Even there in his office, staring at the girl with a mark on her palm that was an exact copy of Todoroki’s, it felt wrong, like the burning in your chest was more than just jealousy. You loved him more than all the stars loved the night sky and you couldn’t help the thought that maybe you loved him more than Momo could. 

“I like your necklace, by the way.” You paused your movements towards the door when she spoke up, spine tensing as your fingers subconsciously rose to toy with the pendant hanging from your neck. You turned back towards her, her eyes drawn to where your hand was, her lips spread in a half smile that curved downwards as her fingers curled, hand palming into a loose fist on her lap. “Todoroki gave it to you?” 

She phrased it like a question but didn’t seem to want an answer, your lips parted slightly as you swallowed down hard. Your hand slipped away from the necklace, landing back at your side as you nodded once nonetheless, her eyes drifting away from the jewelry to instead float back up to your face, smile faded as she blinked a few times. The air felt heavier, more thick, like the unknown thoughts running through her head were clogging up the space, skin feeling too hot like suddenly you had on a hundred layers of clothing. 

“I found it one day, when I was doing the laundry. He’d forgotten to take it out of his jacket pocket before he tossed it in the hamper. I actually had thought it was a present for me. ” Her voice had dropped in volume, her head shaking as she exhaled all the oxygen from her lungs and took a quick glance at the necklace again. Your stomach felt like it dropped, like it had been filled with cement and was too heavy to stay put, an irrational sense of guilt crawling up your spine from the look on her face. She looked wounded and confused, wistful but unaware of what she wanted to say, mouth opening and closing twice before she finally spoke. “Is something going on between the two of you?” 

“What?” You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, surprised by her rather upfront question, and judging by the way her eyes widened momentarily she must not have meant to be so forward. She cleared her throat, pursing her lips and exhaling heavily as she looked out the windows again, your fingers curling into your palms to close into tight fists to hide how they were shaking. 

“Do you like Todoroki?” 

“Sorry about that.” Todoroki’s rush back into room cut off anything you would have said, lips parted and pulse pounding in your eardrums as you took a step back towards the door. It felt like you’d been caught red handed doing something you shouldn’t, like you were a little kid with their hands shoved into the cookie jar before dinner. Todoroki’s palm landed on your back as you stumbled slightly into him, his eyebrows raised when he focused down on you, hair falling onto his forehead like he’d just combed his fingers through it. “You okay?” 

“I have to go.” The words tumbled out as you stepped away from the warmth of his palm, ignoring his fingers as they tried to grasp onto your wrist, clearly confused as to why you were hurrying out. You could feel Momo staring at the pair of you, could sense Todoroki’s apprehension to just let you run off so clearly bothered. You knew he wouldn’t follow you, not with Momo there, his soulmate, with her perfect packed lunch for him waiting on his table top. 

It was like you were in a haze, barely anything registering in your eardrums as you walked back into your office, sitting down to riffle through the papers waiting for you on the desk, eyes moving over the words but not reading them. You couldn’t feel anything besides the pounding in your chest, the force so strong it felt like it might burst through your ribcage and fall onto your keyboard. 

You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to handle the situation or the question she’d thrown at you. What would she do if she found out you were in love with her soulmate? Would she keep him away from you and cut off the thing you cared about most. Did she know for a fact you liked Todoroki or was she just insecure? Was it that painfully obvious you were completely in love with him? If she knew you liked Todoroki, than did he know? It felt like the room was spinning and no one else could notice but you, like the walls were caving in and on them was written all of your secrets, ready to swallow you whole. 

All the worst case scenarios were flooding into your conscious and making your eyes burn, eyes squeezing shut, the paper fluttering between your fingers as your hands slightly shook from your nerves. It felt like all your emotions had skyrocketed and you didn’t know how to handle it. You simultaneously wanted to call Todoroki to listen to him talk until you calmed down and wanted to run as far away from him as possible, wanted to lock yourself in a room where no one could see you anymore. It was all too much for you to deal with alone but was too heavy of a secret to spill on anyone else. 

Who exactly could you tell that you were madly in love with your closest friend and his soulmate had perhaps figured that out? 

Who could you tell that your world felt like it was about to fall apart?

Sometimes when you were thinking too much your eyes stopped focusing, the world becoming fuzzy as all your attention poured into daydreams rather than what was right in front of you. It felt like a filter, like you’d applied a blur to the colors coming from your laptop, barely registering the sounds of laughter pouring from the speakers. You could fall into a fog when you were like that, could get so distracted away from the world around you with a few dazed blinks at nothing in particular. It always seemed to happen when you had the most on your mind, the loss of focus, your quiet breathing the background noise to the scenarios running through your mind. 

Right now those scenarios were all about Todoroki. 

You’d been thinking about what Momo said all afternoon, that alone enough to make a wave of panic ripple through your gut. She’d looked so distant, so unreadable but somehow intimidating, like she had your entire world in her palms and didn’t realize it yet. You questioned how long she’d been thinking about it, if finding the necklace from Todoroki was what spurred her self doubt or if she’d known from the first time she answered his phone for him and found you on the other end. You wondered if it poured out of you so visibly that everyone knew but just hadn’t had the heart to shut you down, that you were a silent laughing stock to the haves, the only have not there seemed to be who didn’t know their place. 

Your lungs deflated as your lids fell shut, feet shuffling beneath the blanket covering your legs, the sounds of the stupid action film playing on your laptop coming to a stop when you blindly reached out and smacked at the keyboard. The enveloping silence was both too quiet and too loud, letting your thoughts run rampant until they were so aggressive they felt like blood chilling screams. You didn’t know what to do or where to go now, you didn’t know how to handle a situation that hadn’t even happened yet. There were too many what ifs, too many possibilities for how Momo’s question came about and too many options for how bad the outcome from it would be. 

You’d never imagined loving someone would be so messy when you were growing up, always idolizing that passion for another human being as something almost magical, something otherworldly. Everyone made it seem like once you found it nothing else would matter, that the world would stop being so loud until all you could feel was that love in your chest. No one told you how bitter it would be, how acrid the taste in your mouth would be watching the person you loved be with someone else. No one took the time to sit you down and tell you maybe things wouldn’t work out how you wanted, no one set you aside and traced the gold on your palm to warn you maybe you wouldn’t be as lucky as everyone else. 

No one told you back then that maybe you’d be alone now. 

No one told you that love was only magical when someone was loving you back. 

The buzzing beside your thigh made your lids flutter open, the fuzzy light still coming from your computer painting your legs the color of a blue sky. You squinted at your cell phone, blinking rapidly as Todoroki’s name came into focus flashing across the front. He’d texted you a few times since you rushed off so suddenly earlier, always able to tell when something was bothering you even when you wouldn’t admit it. He had a way of knowing things about you before you knew them yourself, always noticing little quirks and habits that he’d point out before you realized you even had them. He knew you better than you did and at times it made it harder to ignore how strongly you felt for him, made it scarier to imagine moving far enough away you wouldn’t see his face everyday. 

Part of you was tempted to let it ring, to ignore his voice just a little longer, to try and peel yourself away from the strong hold he had on you without even realizing it. You didn’t know if he’d talked to Momo, if she told him her suspicions and was now just calling to let you down easy, didn’t know if he was calling to tell you he couldn’t be around you anymore because it caused her discomfort. You didn’t know if you could listen to him reject you, didn’t think you could handle how crestfallen you’d be if he quietly whispered that he couldn’t see you again. You didn’t know what you’d do if your worse case scenario was true and Todoroki was about to be ripped away from you, but the stronger part of your will power was desperate to hear his voice ringing in your ear drum, regardless of the words coming from his parted lips. 

“Hello?” 

“Thank gosh, I was starting to get worried.” His relieved sigh made your lips tug slightly up into a smile on your cheeks, picturing the way his hand was probably tugging through his hair in his bedroom, his legs folded up like a little kid. “You weren’t texting me back all afternoon.” 

“Sorry, I was just sort of out of it.” Your lips pressed into a thin line as you leaned back in your bed, palm resting flat on your stomach, the huge t-shirt that was serving as a pajama top bunching around your waist. “I didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“It’s alright.” He hummed for a moment, ears picking up on the sound of his bedroom window being pulled shut, before he let out a heavy puff of air, presumably moving to sit back down on his oversized bed. You wondered if he was alone in it, gut churning picturing Momo there beside him, nerves swelling with the unknown of where this conversation was going. “You just rushed out so fast earlier I thought I’d done something. You don’t usually ignore my texts and I guess I just thought the worst.” 

His faint chuckle at his own worry made your chest ache, eyes squeezing shut in relief that Momo hadn’t said anything to him, or at least if she hadn’t he didn’t seem to be taking it to heart. You still felt apprehensive, shaken up, like you were on the edge of a cliff and unsure of how good your balance was anymore. It was soothing to hear his voice nonetheless once you got over the initial panic, swallowing hard to get down the rock formed in your esophagus before you spoke.

“You worry too much, Todoroki.” 

“Only about you.” The laugh that followed the syllables made your lungs feel empty of oxygen, body rolling onto its side and face nuzzling slightly in the pillow. If you closed your eyes tight enough you could almost imagine it was Todoroki’s chest you were burying yourself against, could almost smell his cologne you’d memorized the scent of long ago. It was like you were intoxicated and the only think you’d ever tasted was him, like was your drug of choice and biggest addiction, one you didn’t want to worry about the consequences from. “I can’t stand when you’re mad at me. “ 

“I’m hardly ever mad at you.” 

“Remember that time I broke your coffee table and you didn’t talk to me for a week?” 

It was so easy to fall back into him, so easy to let the conversation flow naturally into your eardrums with him giggling through the phone and rambling everytime you responded. It was simple, loving him, when the rest of the world was quiet. It was easier to love him from afar, through the safety of a phone where you could hang up and close yourself back off once it was over. It was more difficult to hide the stares when you were in front of him, harder to swallow back the praises you wanted to shout at him, to stop yourself from grabbing his hand and never letting go. When you were apart you could pretend everything was fine, you could close your eyes and imagine your soulmarks matched, that he was yours and he was close enough for you to touch. When you were in front of him you were reminded of everything you didn’t have, reminded every time you saw his palm that he already had his someone and it wasn’t you. 

He made things feel easy, made the rhythm of you talking feel easy over the time that passed with him speaking to you through the phone. He chipped away at your unease and put a fog over the worries that had been burning into your brain, if only temporarily. His chatter about his afternoon and tangents about things you already knew were enough to make everything feel warmer, more gentle. He knew how to get to the deepest parts of you and brighten them, knew how to pull you from your own thoughts without much effort, in a way that you could only hope you did for him as well. 

“I wish I was there right now.” His heavy sigh made you swallow, rolling onto your back as you took a peek at the alarm on your bedside table, reading the blinking red numbers with a muted yawn. You ignored the fluttering in your stomach at the idea, picturing him momentarily there in bed beside you, imagining how incredible he’d look with his hair all fused up and his chest rising and falling like the rhythm of a slow ballad. 

“I’m sure Momo will be back soon from her parents, it’s not like you’ll be home alone that much longer.” Her name sounded foreign coming from your tongue but you tried to ignore it, arching your back and moving your legs as you tried to pry the blanket up from underneath you, slipping it over your body soon after. It was soft, like the texture of a those giant teddy bears people got for valentines day, the same color of the sun the sky had been wearing that morning. 

“She probably will, but that wasn’t what I meant.” 

You paused momentarily as his words floated through the phone, unsure of what to say to that, not positive what exactly he meant. It made your pulse quicken, pounding in your fingertips and eardrums like you’d just run a marathon in the middle of summer. He seemed to be contemplating how to continue, judging from the deep breathe you heard him suck in before he spoke again, voice somehow more gentle than before. 

“I wish I was there in your bed, in your apartment, with you.” He paused and cleared his throat slightly, the sound of him flopping onto his pillows melding with the car honking as it drove by down below on the street. “I miss you.” 

“You saw me a few hours ago.” You laughed faintly, heart in your throat and pounding so violently it was hard to breathe, something about his tone and choice of words feeling more intimate than you were used to with him. Suddenly the phone didn’t feel like it was giving you much distance from him, felt like it was making you more vulnerable without seeing his face to try and work out what was going on inside his head. 

“I don’t care, I miss you.” His voice dropped in volume, your lids falling shut as you took a heavy breathe, one that felt like it wasn’t enough oxygen even with your lungs swelled like close-to-popping balloons. “I miss your laugh and your smile and that look you get when you stare out the window too long and forget what we were talking about. I love when you do that, have I ever mentioned that to you? I love when you get all embarrassed or angry and try to act like you were listening to a single thing I said.” 

“What are you doing, Todoroki?” 

“I love your soulmark too. I know you hate talking about it and hate seeing it even more but it’s so beautiful. It’s the prettiest shade of gold, it reminds me of what the sun looks like right before it sets.” He ignored the slight wave to your voice as his kept getting softer through his rambles, your hands shaking as you used one to grip the blanket around your waist. It felt like the room was spinning, like your brain couldn’t keep up with the things tumbling past his lips. “Sometimes I wish mine looked like that. Sometimes I wonder how different things would be if mine matched yours.” 

You nearly dropped the phone, your lips pressing into a thin line to stop yourself from saying anything. Your eyes burned as you squeezed them shut, trying not to make a sound as you let the words replay in your head, fingers shaking as you gripped the blanket tighter. It was something you’d thought about a lot as well, about how desperately you wished your marks matched, about how different things would be if he was your soulmate. It was almost strange to hear him saying it, like you were daydreaming rather than being awake, like your dream had come a reality but was laced with a nightmare.

“I was so disappointed that day in the park, when I ran into you and I saw your palm when you went to brush off your sweater. Fuck my stomach just sank to my feet, like someone kicked me in the chest and tried to bash my ribcage in.” His bitter laugh sounded thick, too loud for how mutely he was speaking, your teeth clamping down onto your bottom lip in an attempt to stop yourself from letting him know there were stray tears slipping down your temples onto your cotton pillowcase. “I never hated my own soulmark before that, I never wanted so badly for it to go away or be someone else’s instead. ” 

“Don’t say things like that.” Your voice shook as you interjected him, sniffling once as you shook your head reverently on the bed, the room feeling too small, the air too hot, heart still like a drumbeat in your eardrums. 

“I wanted it to be you so bad.” 

You didn’t bother hiding the quiet cry that fell from your lips as you rolled over onto your side and pressed your cheek into the damp pillow, muscles too tight from how hard you were trying to hold yourself together. It felt right and wrong, it sounded like heaven and hell, hearing him tell you how damn much he wanted you to be his one, because it was what you wanted all along. You’d always wanted Todoroki, you’d wanted him since that day in the park and him finding a soulmate hadn’t changed that. 

But even if he meant the words past his somewhat tired and rambling state of speaking out loud it didn’t matter. Even if he was as in love with you as you were with him, the two of you could never happen, it was never and would never be allowed. Todoroki had a soulmate, and by law he had to be with her. You would never be allowed to touch his skin or kiss his lips, you’d never get permission to marry him someday or fall in love with the eyes of the world watching you. You could never have Todoroki, even if somehow what he was saying held as much weight as it felt like it did. Even if you both loved eachother, you couldn’t be in love, and that was what crushed you the most. 

“Todoroki?” You could faintly make out the sound of Momo’s voice as she called out in the background, cutting off Todoroki as he cleared his throat to say something else, your eyes snapping open, like someone had woken you up from a too deep sleep. Without thinking you pulled the phone from your ear, hitting end and tossing it away to the end of the bed, like it’d been on fire and you’d only now realized. 

Everything felt twisted now, more confusing than before, because Todoroki had never said anything like that to you. He’d never brought up that day you two met in the park, never said that he’d felt as stopped in his tracks as you had been. He never told you that he wished his palm looked like yours, never informed you of how angry it made him that you didn’t match, how much he hated his own palm after seeing yours. 

Todoroki had a soulmate, he had Momo, and he was supposed to be with her, but the words that had tumbled from his lips felt like ones he’d been stopping himself from saying for a long time. He sounded lost, confused, desperate for someone or something to give him a sign on what he was supposed to do, what all the things he’d bottled up meant. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to handle the world piling all of this onto you, onto your already fragile heart and weaning self acceptance. You didn’t know how you were supposed to stop yourself from loving someone when he was making you feel like somewhere in the back of his mind, he loved you back. 

Your hands rose, covering the entirety of your face as you cried quietly into them, chest shaking as you choked on the air you tried to get down, everything feeling like too much once again. You were exhausted and wide awake simultaneously, desperate to sleep but scared of what you’d dream. You didn’t know didn’t know what was the right thing to do and what was the wrong, and weren’t sure which path you even wanted to take. You felt like the world had swallowed you whole, like you were thrown down a pit and left to figure out how to pull yourself free. 

There in your bedroom with his whisper of how much he’d wished you’d been made for him replaying in your head, you had never felt more confused.

-

[previous chapter] - [next chapter]

[mystaracrosstheuniverse]

Last Piece: JB

title. Last Piece pairing. GOT7′s JB x Reader genre. slice of life, romance, attempts at comedy, angst warnings. cursing, jb being a cute cat dad, brief mentions of bullying and anxiety summary. As an English teacher from abroad, you get a lot of perks. One of the best ones is that you live in an apartment for free. Another perk seems to be the elusive, attractive man who lives two floors above you… Though his cats seem to find their way to you a lot. And so does his mail, which makes you travel to his place pretty often regardless of whether he wants to see you or not. new beginnings masterlist. part one. out of [undecided]

______________________________________________________________ You never wanted to see another box again. Or a suitcase. Or anything involving packaging goods. You were done with moving, but as you looked around your new apartment, you couldn’t help but be proud.  Finally, you were here. In Seoul, South Korea, beginning your lifelong dream of being a EFL teacher and returning to the city that had captured your heart when you came to study abroad years ago. The past few weeks had been overwhelming, trying to reconnect with old friends, connecting with your fellow teachers, and getting ready to start teaching at your school. But as you took out the last of your recycling, you could finally say you were settled in and ready for the year in front of you. On your way back up, you ran into one of your neighbors, a kind older woman who welcomed you in the first weeks of you arriving.  She smiled at you, “Hello dear! All moved in?” “Mhmm! Finally. I can’t wait to actually find out more about this building. I feel bad that I’ve only met you and not anyone else I’m living next to.” You admitted, rubbing the back of your neck. You hadn’t really prioritized getting to know more about your neighbors or the building; you were too focused on getting your apartment together. “If meeting people your age is your goal, I’d go to the rooftop,” The older woman suggested, “There’s a community area there and I’m sure I’ve seen some young folks heading up there every now and again.” Well that was interesting. You found yourself following her suggestion after thanking her and bidding goodbye, hopping off the stairs to reach the roof. And you couldn’t say you blamed people your age for coming up here once you reached the top. It was really pretty, with a great view of the city and comfy seating and a fire pit. You could see yourself and your friends cozying up with blankets and a few drinks up here.  You’re almost too busy admiring the view and seeing if you can pinpoint some places to visit on your weekends to dismiss small mewling sounds coming from the door of the stairwell. The unfamiliar noise caught your attention and you went over to check it out.  Sure enough, there was a small cat looking up at you with big eyes, meowing never ceasing. You leaned down to let the cat smell your hand, eyes immediately drawn to the red collar resting around its neck. “So you’re not a stray... Where’s your owner, little guy?” You asked softly, not wanting to spook the cat sniffing at your hand. Deciding you were okay, he snuggled up to your hand, allowing you to bring him into your arms and look around the stairwell.  The thought to go to the front desk and ask about who owns pets had barely crossed your mind when you heard a male voice call out from the stairwell below.  “Odd??? Odd?? Where are you??” Based on the way the kitty perked up at the voice and name, you figured you found the owner of the little guy. So you followed the voice, and not even a full set of stairs down were you faced with a very distressed, erratic looking young man.  At the sight of the cat (Odd, was it?) in your arms, the relief that visibly took over his form was almost cute. You took the time to take in the owner’s features. Monolid eyes with a couple of distinct moles, piercings, and a dark mullet with shoulders as wide as you’ve ever seen before, he didn’t seem like the type to be cooing and currently chastising over this small cat. “How’d you get out?” He wasn’t even talking to you, fully focused as he leaned down to quietly talk to Odd. It was... a little awkward and so you carefully pushed the cat towards his own arms, finally bringing his attention to you. “Oh sorry,” He took Odd from you, holding him like a baby, “Thanks for finding him, his siblings were worried. I was worried... obviously...” His expression turned sheepish, once again surprising you at how awkward this man seemed to be despite his appearance. You loved animals, so you couldn’t help but ask, “Oh? More pets?” At the mention of his other animals, he smiled. “Yeah, four others. They’re all trouble makers.” “If this one,” You gestured to Odd, “Is anything like the others, I’d say you have your hands full as a cat dad.” “They keep me on my toes for sure... But they’re my kids so I put up with it.”  The two of you stood there in silence for a little while, not meeting each other’s eyes. You cursed yourself for being so awkward with the first potential friend that wasn’t a fellow teacher.  “So, uh.... yeah.” You wanted to hit yourself. “I’m... Y/N, by the way. I just moved here.” “Jaebum.” He nodded, careful to keep Odd in his arms as he bowed. You returned the gesture before deciding the awkward atmosphere was too much. “It was nice to meet you, Jaebum. I’ll see you around?”  He nodded, waving you off as he went back to his hall and you returned down the stairs to your own apartment. Once inside you banged your head against the wall. You always struggled with making friends because of your anxiety, and not everyone was as kind or patient to you as Jaebum had been in that first encounter.   You were determined to show him that next time, you weren’t awkward and he could be your friend.                                    ______________________________ As it turns out, you didn’t show him. A week or so goes by and you fall into a routine of going to school, planning, and sometimes visiting friends. Occasionally you catch Jaebum getting mail or walking out at the same time, but each time you keep clamming up and unable to do more than exchange small talk. Which, judging by his barely concealed grimances, he hated. But he was polite and you honestly were just hoping that you’d pull yourself together and be able to hold a conversation that wasn’t laced with uncomfortable awkwardness. You got your chance, though, when getting your mail after school. Your eyes lit up seeing the package, only to frown and pout when you saw it wasn’t even for you.  It did, however bring you a little excitement to see it’s for Jaebum (with JB in big English letters next to his name, you guessed a nickname) and you saw the apartment number listed in the address. You considered it for only a moment before going up the stairs. After all, he’d want his package right?  Coming up to the door, you hear music from his apartment. You briefly wondered what kind of genres he liked the most before knocking, trying to be a good neighbor (and hopefully friend after this). There wasn’t a response so you knocked again, a bit louder in case he couldn’t hear you over the music.  “I’m coming, can’t you just be patient Yug-- Oh. Y/N.” Jaebum swung open the door, looking a little irritated and tired. Headphones slung around his neck, traces of stubble from not shaving recently, and the bags under his eyes only confirm your suspicions that he hadn’t slept.  “Rough night?” You meekly offer, only to want to throw yourself off a cliff a moment later. Really? That’s what you decide to open with? No wonder he’s not your friend. He rolled his eyes at your question, but nods and gave you a look that clearly said “What do you want and why are you here?”. You certainly didn’t need to be told twice, even with body language.  Barely missing a beat, you held up the package in your arms. “So, uh, I don’t know if this will help, but here! This got delivered to me by accident.”  The second he saw the postage label his eyes brightened and a grin overtook his face as he grabbed it from your arms. You managed to ignore the small jump in your chest at the sight of his genuine smile.  “This must be from Mark! He’s my friend, he lived here for a long time but now he’s back in the U.S... I really miss him but I know he’s doing well.” Jaebum rambled, his eyes focused on the package but once flicking up to you, as if to see if you were paying attention.  Is he... initiating conversation? With you? “I’m glad you can keep in touch this way, I understand how it feels to miss friends far away...” You managed to get out, and his smile turned to you. Oh... He has a nice smile. You wondered if he did it often with friends. You hoped to find out.  A small meow captured your attention, and you look down to see Odd and this other fluffier cat coming to inspect you and what their owner was holding. Just as you were about to ask Jaebum about Odd, the other cat swatted at Odd’s face and pretty much pushed him out the door towards you. Ah... You see how he got out now.  “Nora Stop! You can’t do that to your siblings!” Jaebum immediately put the package down, picking up Nora to scold her. You stifled a laugh, seeing him be such a dad with his cats. He wasn’t joking when he called them his kids. Odd didn’t even try to go back inside, meowing loudly and coming up to you, rubbing himself against your leg as if to gain sympathy. It worked. You picked him up gently, rubbing his ears and letting him relax in your arms. When there was suddenly no scolding, you looked up to see Jaebum looking at you intensely, making you shift a little as your anxiety spiked. Did you do something wrong? “Odd really likes you. Huh.” Was all he said, a small half smile coming on his face as he looked at you. Suddenly the walls felt like they were way too close and you needed space immediately.  Putting the cat down, you made sure he went back into the apartment and cleared your throat, trying not to make eye contact as you said, “Okay! Sorry to bother you, I’ll just leave it at the door next time --”  You’re already making your way down the hall when he calls your name, making you pause and count the seconds before your fight or flight instinct forced you to run to the safety of your apartment. “It’s not a bother. If my cats like you, I like you. See you around, Y/N.” He waved, his voice almost gentle as he closed the door to his apartment. Maybe... he didn’t hate you after all.

[theimprobabledreamersworld]

75 with either Royality or Roceit?

This was actually quite fun to write! It's been nice writing a platonic fic again :)

The prompt- “You fainted, straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

General writing taglist: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @lost-in-thought-20 @red-imeanblue (If anyone would like to be added, let me know! :)

Read it on Ao3!

To The Rescue.

Platonic Patton and Roman.

Warnings for frantic behaviour, panicked moments, fainting.

Patton wasn’t exactly a huge fan of exercise. Running in particular was something he would rather avoid doing in any capacity, however, unfortunately for him… he wasn’t going to have a choice today.

It all started when he thought he could impress Roman, his best friend and work colleague by finishing off his section of their quota sheets early, purely so there would be less work for him to do. He always liked being finished early, that way, if he was needed somewhere else in the office, there would be no problems. As his alarm clock went off the next morning, he realised just how much of a mistake that was… Maybe starting his work at 10pm (he could blame watching Disney movies for the late start) then working through to 3am wasn’t such a great idea. Especially when he had to wake up at 6am. He slapped his phone until the offensive noise came to a peaceful silence as he drifted back to sleep, he was rudely interrupted every ten minutes as the snoozed alarm came back with a vengeance; but he could deal with that. By the time it got to the third round of slapping his phone, he woke up with a start and scrambled to check the time. It was now 6:30am, he had to be at work by 7 and he’s already missed the bus. He was screwed, and that was putting it lightly.

He ran around his apartment frantically. If anyone was able to see inside, they would either see a man on a mission, or a man having a mid-life crisis. He desperately running down the stairs before going into the kitchen. He put the kettle on and left his thermal flask on the side, ready to pour coffee into soon, he started throwing papers into a bag while waiting, then he scrambled to pick up all of the ones he failed to put in first time around. The kettle announced it had finished its job, and as he poured the coffee into his flask, Patton looked down at his arm and realised he was still wearing his pajamas. He shrieked and ran back up the stairs to get dressed, he raced around to put on his classic suit with the bright blue shirt under his jacket and his dark blue trousers. He checked himself in the mirror and thankfully, his shirt wasn’t on back to front today which was a relief. He walked briskly out of the door and stopped at the top of the stairs, he looked down at his feet and noticed he’d left his shoes behind. Patton tutted to himself; this wasn’t going to be a good day. He grabbed his shoes and made sure to ties his laces as tight as possible, he was going to have to run across town after all.

He stormed down the stairs, jumping the last three of them before going back into the kitchen. His coffee was still steaming so he sealed his flask, took his bag off the table and slung it onto his back violently. ‘Almost ready to go!’ He told himself with a vague hint of positivity in his voice. The last task was the hardest… where in the name of sanity did he put his keys?

He sighed and he fought every urge to just give up and cry, but he started the search for his keys. He didn’t want to let Roman down, not today of all days. He ran through every room, threw all of the cushions off the chairs, pushed all of the DVDs off of the table from yesterday. They had to be there somewhere! He turned around one more time and he heard a familiar jingle coming from his jacket pocket, he stopped and slowly put his hand into his pocket and pulled out his keys. Patton could have screamed, but instead he glared at his keys like they had stolen the last cookie from his tin. He finally made a sprint for the front door, he was sweating like crazy and he had never felt this dizzy before, but he was ready to go at last. He put the key into the lock and the door clicked open.

He swung the door open and took one step out before stopping in his tracks.

“Roman?? What in the world are you doing here?” He jumped back startled at seeing his best friend standing in front of him with a concerned look on his face. His red shirt complimented Patton’s shirt nicely, they tended to unintentionally co-ordinate their outfits. Patton would have made a comment about it, but at the moment, he was too busy trying to stay upright.

“Well, we both know that you’re never late for work… and when even I managed to get into the office before you, I had to swing by and check what was going on and whether I could come to your rescue!” He held his hands up triumphantly like he was a knight in shining armour. Despite the bravado in his voice, there was still a minute hint of worry. Patton wasn’t sure when he stopped listening to Roman’s speech, all he could see was black spots clouding his vision and then… darkness.

Roman knew he was going to fall, Patton was quite pale and sweating significantly which was unusual for him. If he had to guess, he must have overslept and had been running around manically trying to get everything sorted. Roman shook his head and tutted lightly with a small smile on his face and caught Patton gracefully. He swept Patton up in his arms, carried him back into his apartment and placed him down gently onto the sofa. Roman checked him over quickly before taking out his phone and sending a text to their boss explaining the situation. When the swift reply came back for him to stay and look after Patton, he went into the kitchen and got a glass of water ready for when Patton came around. It was lucky he had been to Patton’s apartment before otherwise he would have no idea where anything was. He softly put the water down on the coffee table before switching on the TV and turned the volume down, he looked at Patton from time to time and he began to stir a little after about half an hour. He shot up in a panic and Roman immediately put his hands on Patton’s shoulders, reassuring him.

“Hey, hey. Look at me. Everything’s okay. We’re in your apartment and we’re taking the day off work.” He spoke softly and Patton relaxed with every word.

“W- what happened? I remember you coming to the door, and that’s all. Logan’s going to be mad if we’re not in. What about the deadline?” His words were rushed and a little slurred, but Roman stayed calm and kept his hands on Patton’s shoulders.

“I’ve talked to Logan, he’s absolutely fine with it. I’ve finished my quota stats, and we’ve just got to send yours when we can. Logan wanted me to pass on the message of… ‘You’re an idiot and please look after yourself today.’” He copied Logan’s voice and made Patton chuckle which was a very reassuring thing.

“Well, luckily, my quota stats are all done as well so we can send those in today. You still haven’t told me what happened.” He looked over in anticipation, almost praying that nothing too embarrassing happened.

“Yooou fainted. Straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” He nudged Patton’s shoulder playfully as he spoke with a teasing tone. Patton laughed whole-heartedly this time and Roman couldn’t help but join in. When the laughter stopped, Patton drank some of the water before apologising profusely to Roman. He turned and rested his head on Roman’s shoulder and Roman wrapped his arm around him in return.

“So… movie marathon? Then fast-food tonight? You can choose.” Roman knew Patton wouldn’t say no. As Patton nodded, he got off the sofa and put in the first Disney DVD he could find before grabbing a blanket off of the floor and draping it over the two of them. As the opening scene started rolling, he heard Patton say very softly.

“Thanks for coming to my rescue.” Roman smiled and gave Patton a strong side hug.

“Anytime, Patton”

[gildedmuse]

Room For One More

I wrote this just off the cuff, for no reason. It was inspired in part by conversations with @jhaernyl and @babblebuzz so I encourage you to blame them, even though neither of them asked for this, wanted it, or suspected they were about to get 1000+ words in their messages. 

It’s suppose to be Mihawk.x Law x Zoro, but it never got so far. It features Mihawk x Law as a married couple, Zoro as Mihawk’s too young and too cute and too sexy assistant that Law finds just suspicious... And also really fucking hot.

PS: Sorry for the requests I haven’t filled, especially Go To War For You. It’s coming, I swear! I just got out of the hospital and straight back to work, and I lost my train of thought there. But I’m slowly writing it out. Because obviously I love me some MiZoLaw

PPS: See people this is what you message me/converse with me. I just write up 1000 words of nothing. You are to blame.

Room For One More: Get Him Out

Ooohh... Au where Law is married to Mihawk and one day he comes home to find his husband leaning over and around this green haired.... KID (that's what he is, he is a goddamn kid, Law thinks. He may be all of 18. Barely.) Law just stands in the door, utterly unacknowledged as Mihawk continues speaking in that low, sexy voice of his and Law is too upset to even hear what he's saying, but he sure as hell can see the way his husband's mouth is so close to the boy's ear the three gold bars hanging from it jingle together. Like a fucking alarm bell as far as Law is concerned.

Law coughs.

Twice.

That finally does it. Both of them turn as if they just noticed Law when he'd come in mid rant about a patient who just won't take his damn meds and paperwork and yet only know have they managed to notice his existence.

Mihawk smiles even as Law glares him down. "Law, you're home early."

"Actually, I'm home precisely when I was supposed to be."

Mihawk nods, brow furrowing for a mere second, thrown by the snippiness in Law's voice. Oh sorry I sound upset about walking in on your clearly private session with school boy jezebel here, honey. "Which in your case, is early. I can't name the last time you did not stay late at the hospital for one reason or another."

"I had a frustrating day, I wanted to call it an early night. I wasn't aware that we'd have... guests." Law's eyes not so subtly fall to the boy, unable to see him completely since he's still sitting there between his husband's arms. Plus he's gone back to whatever is in front of him on the table. Sure, now he feels a sense of shame.

When his gaze goes back to his husband, Mihawk has an eyebrow raised. Law knows that look. The "I am older and wiser than you and do not understand at times why you behave the way you do" look. Law hates that look, but right at this particular moment it makes him want to stab something.

Preferably something green, cute, and sitting in between his husband's arms like it's no big deal.

"I informed you earlier. Red-Hawk offices are under going heavy renovation and will be unusable for the next two weeks, forcing me to work from home." Yes, Law remembers the conversation. Although, admittedly, only barely. He'd had just gotten off two major surgeries and countless troublesome patients and a 12 hour shift. Mihawk himself had apparently been forced to run meeting after meeting, and all alone thanks to the newly wedded Shanks and Benn having both come down with some undescribed illness, that was on top of his normal work overseeing product development, speaking with potential clients, whatever he did at that office of his, the very description of which always bored Law. He knows it's something sports related, that it makes incredibly good money but also keeps Mihawk constantly busy and nearly as exhausted as Law. Just the other day he ended up sleeping over at the office and...

Oh. Oh, fuck, Law has been so stupid and naïve. And he supposes this boy's name just happens to be At-the-office.

"This is Roronoa Zoro," Mihawk continues, ignoring the narrowing of Law's eyes. "He's one of our interns. He's acting as my temporary assistant while Perona is on vacation."

Right... The pink haired gothic doll that acts as his husband's right hand.... Lolita (that wording had never sounded so wrong to Law. He'd met Perona plenty of times. While the girl gets on his nerves, she is apparently incredibly effective. He's also seen her with Mihawk and there is absolutely nothing going on there.) Her absence is part of what's been adding to his husband's recent stress at work.

Stress he's apparently found a cure for. A very new cure, apparently. Barely old enough to be out of testing.

The boy glances back at Law since the first time since he first interrupted them. His husband stands up, freeing the boy to sit up a little straighter. Law had been right. He is cute. Annoyingly so.

"Hey there," the boy says in such an incredibly causal tone it actually throws Law for a second.

"Roronoa," Mihawk's already low voice seems to dip a little deeper, more authoritative. Usually sexy as hell, goes right to Law's cock. Unless he's exhausted. Or it's being used on his fucking boy toy.

The kid actually rolls his eyes! "Sorry. How do you do, Dracule-san," Zoro says, using his schoolboy on his best behavior voice which, who knows, he may actually still have use for. His voice is lower than Law had assumed, almost expecting him to sound like a child not yet through puberty.

"It's Trafalgar, actually," Law corrects him, and it's a pointed correction. Instead of being relieved that at least the boy knows he is indeed the husband here, he's more annoyed than ever. So Mihawk told him he was married and the boy came anyway?

Zoro shrugs off the mistake, apparently entirely unaffected by Law's rather legendary bad looks. "S-- My apologies, Trafalgar, I was unaware."

Law can't help but notice that despite the still formal language, Zoro has already thrown away the honorific. Much like he already thrown away any respect for the sanctity of Law's wedding vows.

You know what, no. Law's day had been hell and this is simply too much right now. "Excuse me. I'm starving," he mutters. He moves by Mihawk without stopping for their usual kiss, not even looking at his husband as he goes to open the fridge.

It doesn't mean he misses the way his husband's striking golden eyes follow him, just like a hawk's would as it studies its prey. Nor does he miss how eventually the feeling burning into the back of his neck drops away. He hears a low sigh, almost neutral except he knows his husband. He can hear the frustration.

Good. Let him be frustrated..

"Roronoa," Mihawk says, sounding almost as tired as Law feels. "Do you remember when I showed you the study earlier, where I keep all the file logs."

Law is too busy trying to ignore the goddamn child in his kitchen to care what he replies. He does, however, get out some vegetables right at that moment, and so sees the way Zoro turns his head up, exposing a long column of his neck, stretching it above the collar of his undone dress shirt, as he gives his husband a sort of searching look, pausing before he nods.

"Could you take the papers up there, please, and finish the form as instructed. Law is trying to dig out a damn chopping block but does hear the boy say, "Yeah, sure." and the scratch of chair legs along with shuffling papers.

Just as Law has finally found what he needed, right where it was supposed to be but that's not the point, he hears Mihawk approaching. Before he even makes it halfway to Law he's stopped. "Wait."

Law looks up on instinct. Mihawk's deep voice also attracts Zoro, who had finally almost been gone. "Don't start the next form until I am there. Simply file what we've completed."

"Yeah, okay."

"That will be all, Roronoa." Zoro actually has the nerve to roll his eyes before he turns to start leaving again. Not that he gets far. "Roronoa," his husband adds with another sigh. Frustrated still, annoyed and... endeared. Yes, damnit, Law knows Mihawk too well.. "It is the other door." Zoro's shoulders go very stiff. He huffs but says nothing, making a quick turn and marching out of their kitchen. At least.

Law slams the chopping board down on the counter so hard he's surprised neither of them breaks.

"Law.." Mihawk places a heavy hand on Law's shoulder which is quickly dismissed. He picks up a knife - perhaps not the best choice at the moment... For Mihawk - and starts chopping away at some peppers. They are nice and green and easy for him to slice apart. "Law... Darling," Mihawk tries again, this time not attempt to touch him. He is watching Law chop apart the pepper, which is good. One of them should probably be paying attention to the way he wielding a sharp blade around his fingers while exhausted and enraged. "Very well, I can see that you've come to certain conclusions, but let me assure you those assumption are entirely incorrect, likely the result of your long shifts and lack of sleep.

Law ends up embedding the knife in the board. He turns to Mihawk, an aura of pure darkness. Honestly, he loves the man, bit is this the time for one of his "be sensible, I'm right" speeches? Law glares up at him, temped just storm out only that would just make Mihawk feel more confirmed in his believe that Law is over reacting.

Instead, after a deep breath, Law starts in on him, his voice low and logical while still with an edge of danger. "I walked into our kitchen to find you leaning over some boy BARELY out of high school - hopefully! - whispering in his damn ear.... Don't think I don't remember you doing that to me. I believe you later admitted to loving being able to watch my face as you slowly worked me up into a frenzy. Was the boy getting hard for you? Or had you only just started?"

Law's voice is laced with some much bitterness and maybe... Maybe some heartbreak but Law is burying that deep right now. Yet Mihawk's face gives him nothing. His husband leans against the counter with his arms crossed, watching him go off on this rant with neutral and yet somehow analytical expression. That just drives Law temperature even further. Even more than Mihawk's utter lack of an answer.

"Your reaction?" Law's voice is raising with every word, furious that Mihawk is giving him so little when Law has every right to be mad. "Once I get you attention, at least. You're very first comment when I come home exhausted and stressed and find you with some green haired, rude little brat? Surprise that I'm home early."

"I apologize, Hawk-ya, that in interrupted your time with-

Mihawk pulls Law in for a kiss. It's not sensual or deep, but it's sincere. Which... Law can't even understand. It makes no sense. It makes Law want to cry and as that realizes comes Law realized he already has been.

Why is Mihawk doing this to him? Just tell him the truth.

When he pulls back, Mihawk appears at least somewhat contrite. Still, when he finally nods it feels like like an agreement and more like he's acquiescing. "Perhaps it would have given the circumstance to give you more time to adjust to this change, but let me assure you that Roronoa is only here in an official, business capacity. "

"And what's his business? Sucking my husband's cock?" Law bites back, no longer wanting Mihawk to try and disguise what is obvious, like he thinks Law is an idiot or, more likely, so overworked and so rarely home he simply would never notice the indiscretion and would be too exhausted to bother caring if he did.

Is that... Is that how Mihawk sees their relationship?

Mihawk reaches for him again but Law has had enough. He jerks away before Mihawk even gets close to touching him, eyes fire and challenges as he stares up at the older man. “Where did you pick him up? A damn kindergarten?”

“He’s an intern for RedHawk, as I explained earlier,” while Mihawk’s words are still rather simple, straight forward in many ways, his tone is patient. Like he’s dealing with a damn child. “And he is nineteen.” Well, he probably has practice since he’s sleeping with one. “Please, Law, you are clearly exhausted. Let me finish instructing Zoro on some final matters and we’ll both of us lay down. It’s been a hard week and-”

Oh, he’s sure his husband will instruct the boy on all sorts of things. Law swings around, hunger completely forgotten. “You’re right, Hawk-ya,” he spits the old nickname with a venom, storming from the kitchen, his hunger completely forgotten. “I do need rest. And frankly I think that is more likely to happen if I don’t have to share my bed with two other people.”