#I shouldn’t even care but it just comes up sometimes unexpectedly and not wanted

[multiversegideons]

Having body image issues can really hurt those around you, and I really try to keep it under control knowing that. Of course, I don’t always succeed in that. It’s one of my biggest flaws, and I hate the hurt its caused to others in my life.

[farfromstrange]

“What if the way you hold me is actually what’s holy?” | Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Warnings: SMUT! (18+), shower setting, oral f!receiving, masturbation, fantasizing, beard appreciation (kink?), dirty talk, mentioned unprotected p in v, slight Dom!Matt, DDBA!Matt, improper thoughts about a certain crucifix necklace, (kind of) religious symbolism, mentions of choking, praise kink, pet names, “good girl”, not perfectly edited (shocker)

Summary: Fantasies about your late-working boyfriend take over your much needed self-care shower—until he’s suddenly (and unexpectedly) right in front of you when you are about to take care of the problem yourself.

A/n: So, the Born Again trailer brought me back from the dead and made me so fucking needy for this man. I thought this would be the best opportunity to rewatch Daredevil and practice writing Matt again because I’ve been a bit out of practice lately. Let’s just say the experiment was successful, but I definitely owe it to my hormone levels. The gif below inspired this fic (as it probably has done to many writers in the fandom these past two days). Anyway. If you want to listen to the song I was listening to while writing, it’s “Guilty As Sin?” By Taylor Swift, hence the title. Other than they, enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated!

Read Me On AO3!

The warm water from the shower head above runs down your clammy skin, seeping into your pores and aching muscles. You have been dreaming about this ever since you got home from work. 

The apartment is quiet, save for the little noise you make in the bathroom. Matt called you earlier, telling you he would be late and that you shouldn’t wait up for him; you expected as much after he and Foggy caught a high-profile case a couple of weeks ago. 

When he isn’t busy at work, he tries to fulfill his duty to protect the city. You’re not mad; you knew what you were signing up for when you fell in love with him, but that doesn’t change the fact that you miss him sometimes. Or rather, all the time. It doesn’t matter if he’s at work or wandering around in red leather, searching for a fight—you always miss him. 

There’s not a day that goes by that you’re not worried he might not come back to you. You can only hold on to the thought of him coming home in the middle of the night, crawling into bed beside you because he’s too tired to shower, wrapping his arms around you as though you are the only thing anchoring him to reality. It makes you appreciate what you have in him. 

The thing about Matt is that he feels he has to do penance for every little thing he has ever done, whether his actions hurt people or not; he loathes himself for who he is, which is absurd to you but to him, it makes sense. Perhaps it’s the catholic in him, or all those years of losing soulmates, or maybe it’s both.

His shampoo smells faintly of sandalwood and the rainforest, but only if you focus closely. You like that it makes your skin soft, and when you wrap yourself in his silk sheets at night, it’s almost like he’s all over you before he physically can be. 

You close your eyes and you focus on the feel of him, imagining your hands are his. You imagine his calloused fingers trailing over your heated skin, exploring every dip and every curve, even though he already knows the wonderland of your body inside and out. His lips on yours, traveling down your neck to your shoulder to your chest… a shiver runs down your spine, pooling in your core. You’re on fire, and he isn’t even with you. 

He’s at the office, sleeves probably rolled up, the first two buttons of his dress shirt undone, loosening his tie with that strained look he gets when he’s stressed. Or maybe he’s on his way to Fogwell’s Gym so he won’t disturb you before he puts the suit on, fists raining down on a sandbag as sweat drips down his body, and he grunts whenever he lands a hit. 

You were just trying to have a nice shower, but Matt always manages to invade your every thought like a burglar on a mission. 

It’s just not fair how he always looks so sinful when he’s at his wit’s end. Oh, you love that look he gets when he’s feral. And you suddenly remember how long it has been since you got to touch each other. Since he let the devil out on you. Since he came home in the middle of the night and fucked you into the mattress because he was still so full of adrenaline. 

It has been so long since you two got to have a nice dinner together and you last rode him on his leather couch until you were both sticking to it, not even thinking about stopping; since he devoured you for hours and hours and hours until you were almost severely dehydrated and overstimulated from the orgasms he tore from you. 

You bite your lip so you won’t moan into the void of the bathroom. If you touch yourself now, he will know when he comes home. For a moment, you consider it. You slide your hand from your chest down your stomach. The water is slowly starting to grow cold. You just need to take the edge off.  Lower, lower, and lower, and—

“Don’t,” Matt’s voice reverberates in your ear. His hand slides over yours, calloused fingers on the back of your hand. 

The veil of fantasy burns to the ground. Your heart stops, then picks up the pace at a million miles an hour. In an instant, you turn around to face him, a gasp dying on your lips.

He’s right there, clothes discarded on the floor before the shower, no doubt. The golden crucifix around his neck offers a sinful contrast to his milky skin. You have always wondered if he was made out of marble rather than skin and bone. How can one person be this beautiful—this close to perfection and still be human? 

Matt is close enough for you to feel his heartbeat against your own. His hands slide to your forearms to make sure you don’t slip. You can see your wrecked reflection in his hazel irises. 

His unfocused gaze is right on you, boring through your skull into your soul. Only he can read you like an open book, listen to your body, and know exactly what you want, what you crave. He thinks of himself as the devil, but all you see is an angel. He’s the sun. To you, at least, he’s everything. The moon, the sun, the stars, and the entire fucking universe.

He caught you when you were about to touch yourself, and he’s naked. Really fucking naked. This is not how you imagined tonight to go. 

His chest heaves with a deep inhale of your scent, forehead coming to rest against yours. 

“You’re home,” you whisper. 

His lips curl into a smile—not a smirk but a genuine smile. “Yeah.”

“But you said you guys had that case, and then you were gonna go out…”

Matt cuts you off, “I missed you,” he says. “Couldn’t go out without seeing you.”

He chose you over the city. You never doubted Daredevil meant more to him than you, but hearing it out loud almost brings tears to your eyes.

“I missed you too,” you answer. So much. Days, weeks, seconds, all the fucking time. 

He’s so smug about it, too, when he tells you, “I know.”

The water keeps falling around you, drowning out the noise of the city and pearling off his necklace. He should have taken it off. If he wanted to shower with you, he should have taken it off because the need for him that makes your cunt pulse in desperation feeds off of the mere thought of taking the cold metal into your mouth while he pounds into you like a madman. 

He doesn’t look agitated, not at all, but there is a dark shadow falling over Matt’s bearded face. It’s a calculated shadow rooted in a need for control, and who are you to deny him the only thing he can control?  

“Hey,” he grabs your chin, “Tell me. What were you doing in there, hm?” 

You bite your lip. “Just… showering.”

“Just showering?” He brushes his nose against yours. “You know I can hear your heartbeat…”

You nod. Your lips brush, but he doesn’t kiss you. Not yet. You can taste the remnants of his last coffee, the familiar warmth of his mouth on yours, but he refuses to give you the satisfaction. You crave him so much that fireworks have started erupting on your skin wherever his fingers dare to travel; it isn’t fair. He isn’t fair. 

Matt studied the science of driving you crazy, and now you are bordering on the edge of madness. Alone. 

“Mhm. So, I know you’re lying…” He moves to your cheek, his breath hot when he speaks, “And I know when you’re touching yourself. ‘Cause I can smell how fucking wet you are, sweetheart.” 

There he is. The relentless, feral animal you fantasized about before. The man driven by primal need and the sheer power of his senses rather than rational thought, and yet he knows exactly what he is doing. He’s a musician playing you like a delicate violin, pushing her to the breaking point but never fully destroying.

“Like I said,” you breathe, “I missed you.”

He presses his lips to your cheek, almost like a reward. “I know,” he says. “Probably been thinking about me, too, with your hand on your pussy…” 

You swallow a needy moan that would have been too embarrassing. It’s been a long few weeks. Neither of you will be able to resist for long, you know that, so you decide you have to be bold tonight. “And what’re you gonna do about it?” you ask.

Though stunned for a moment, the smirk on Matt’s face isn’t far out of reach. “That’s my girl.”

Your back hits the now warm tiles of the shower wall before you can string together another remark, and then, finally—fucking finally—his lips are on yours. Kissing you. Devouring you. Breathing air into your aching lungs. He tastes like paradise, the Garden of Eden, and the six circles of hell all at once. It’s all the same to you, anyway. 

As long as you’re with him, you don’t care where you end up. No amount of torture could take away the love you feel for him, and you know that with Matt, even weathering the stormy seas of hell would be worthwhile. It’s sick and twisted how far you would go for this man, but you can’t find a single bone in your body that cares.  

His tongue forces its way into your mouth, tasting you, and inhaling you like his sole source of life support. You don’t bother fighting for dominance; you’re all his. Your body is telling him to command you. Your mind is screaming for him to touch you in any way he pleases, so help him God, and the chain around his neck keeps sinfully dangling against his toned chest. You want to bite it. You’re going to bite it. But not yet. 

When it is time for you to swim to the surface for air, he pulls away. His lips move from yours to the corner of your mouth. He kisses there, taking his time to explore what he has explored many times before. But Matt Murdock is an addict, and you are his drug of choice, so why would he ever stop? 

He kisses your cheek, your eyes, and the bridge of your nose. That’s how he sees you. Either with his fingers or his mouth or both. Touching you. Listening to you. He wants to see you in his own way. In a way that is far more intimate than you admiring his objective beauty could ever be.

“So beautiful,” he whispers between kisses. When he says it, you know it has to be true, even when you don’t see yourself in the same light as him.

His beard is rough where he kisses you. He has grown it out quite a bit, not having the time to bother shaving. The specks of gray that have started appearing as he got older should be illegal, you think, staring at him through hazy eyes. It should be illegal to look this good.

You caress his face, palm covering the entirety of his cheek. So beautiful, you want to say, but you don’t have the words.

The confession of love tumbles against your skin, softly, breathlessly, and he dips his head into the crook of your neck. He seeks your pulse point to press his lips against the beat of your heart. Your head falls back against the tiles. He’s a fucking menace, but he’s gentle about it. So, so gentle.

The hands-on your hips pull you closer, as close as you can get. Your nipples brush his chest, and you can feel him growing hard against you. He’s hot, red, and flushed, and with his lips against your neck, sucking and biting and licking some more, the shower water isn’t the only thing running down your thighs. You’ve been wet just thinking about him; Matt is here now, and he has no intention of stopping until you’re screaming his name.

Your skin is raw from the way he’s moving his face against you, suctioning his lips right where he can feel your pulse reaching for him. Reacting to him.

“Matthew,” you moan, breathless. “Please.” 

He hums, fingers digging into your flesh to keep his composure. The sound of his name from your lips in such ecstasy makes his cock swell to the point all he wants is to sink into you and fuck you against the wet shower wall until you can’t walk anymore. He wants to wrap his hand around your throat, just holding you there as you take it like the good girl you are. God, he wants to do so many things to you. 

He wants to push all of your buttons and reward you for it. He wants to feel your nails running down his back until he’s bleeding. He wants to eat your pussy until you forget your name, and when he’s done with that, he wants to do even more because that is the kind of animal you turn him into. That is what you do to him. You consume him with your mere existence and your love you keep pouring into him like a glass about to overflow, a glass so full yet so fucking empty at the same time, and he has been neglecting you for far too long to hold back now—yes, the water bill be damned!

“I love it when you beg,” he growls, feeling his voice vibrate through your skin. Like he’s in your veins.

You whimper. Oh, that sound. That sweet, sweet sound. It seems to do him in. Matt sinks to his knees like he would in front of God in church—like Mary knelt in front of Jesus after he got crucified. But there are no stained windows, no crosses, and no confessional booth in sight; you’re his place of worship, and your body is the altar. You are the only constant in his world on fire. You always want him to set you on fire, too. 

Once on his knees in front of you, his cock straining high and mighty against his stomach, he grabs your thigh and places it over his shoulder. No rush. You can barely catch your breath. 

Burning along the inside of your thigh, Matt kisses his way toward where you need him most. Your core yearns for him. Your hand slips from his face, searching the tiles behind you for something to hold onto. 

He’s quick to bring your hands back to his hair. “Don’t let go,” he says. 

It’s almost embarrassing that the only sound you can make is a grunt, and when your brain finally catches up, it’s too late. He’s impatient. Desperate. And he places his lips in a gentle kiss against your clit. The sudden contact makes you jolt, but that is not nearly all of it. 

He tests the waters. Once, twice, even a third time, gently kissing along your slick folds. You instinctively tug at his hair, but that doesn’t deter him. Matt inhales your scent, tasting your essence on his tongue; he would bathe in it if he could. 

You cry out when he dives in. He parts your folds with his tongue, sucking and licking until his face is covered. The obscene noise of lips smacking against wet skin goes straight to your head. He can hear the wetness gushing out of you, every twitch of your muscles and hitch of your breath, and he sucks a little harder on your sensitive clit. You’re scared you might fall. 

“Fuck!” Your moans are as obscene as the sound of him eating you out. You grind against him, at first involuntarily, but then he moans against you, and you can’t help it; the vibrations he sends through you continue to pool in your cunt, tightening the coil that is waiting to snap. 

Matt prods your entrance with his tongue, the tip of his nose digging just right into that sensitive bundle of nerves he lost when your hips first jerked. He’s completely out of it, hooded eyes rolled back into his skull while you are almost splitting yours open on the dark tiles. The cross necklace is sticky with his saliva as he drinks from you like you are the spring fueling his ocean. He’s thrusting into his hand, pre-cum leaking from his cock, but his mouth never wavers. He has a job to do. 

Your walls clench around what little of his tongue is inside of you. There is nothing more arousing than the sight of him touching himself because the taste of you is bringing him to the brink of an inevitable orgasm. Because he wants to come with you. Because he’s desperate and he can only imagine being inside of you as he licks away at you. It’s a kind of dedication that makes you feral. No one has ever loved you quite like he has, and no one will ever eat your pussy as only he can. 

“Matt,” you choke out. “Fuck, I’m gonna—’m gonna come. Don’t stop. Don’t…”

As if he could. He flicks his tongue from left to right, painting shapes you have never felt before over every last of your nerve endings. You’re quivering. You’re shaking. You are turning the bathroom into a concert hall for the symphony of your pleasure. 

He doesn’t stop to tell you to come, that would be futile. You couldn’t possibly stop the wave headed for your shore. You can’t warn him. You can’t do anything other than let it happen. The coil snaps and your orgasm crashes into you at full force, shattering you into a million pieces. You grind against him until you’re sure he is branded into your skin forever. 

Matt holds you through it, working his tongue against you to prolong the electricity running through your veins. He gets lost in the echo of his name, stroking his cock harder and faster, and within seconds of you, he’s coming, too. He spurts into his hand and on your thigh, moaning deliciously into your pussy. For a moment, he’s stiff, though as you are starting to come back to him, he’s starting to come back to you. 

The aftermath of your orgasm is quiet. His lips slip from your swollen folds eventually, and he pulls away to rest his cheek against your inner thigh, the one resting over his shoulder. He’s still catching his breath, cock softening in his hands, but when you look down at him, he’s a wreck. For you. 

Slowly, he rises back to his feet. You look at him, unsteady now on both of your feet. He wraps his arms around you. “You okay?” he asks softly. 

You lean into his hand when he places it on your cheek. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m…perfect.”

“You were so good for me. So good.” 

The distance between you dissipates, foreheads falling together in absolute exhaustion. He smells and tastes of you. You kiss him softer than you ever have. “I love you,” you whisper, and he smiles because he knows.

You don’t count the minutes you stay like that, kissing. It might have been an hour, not nearly enough. Matt reaches for the water when it starts getting cold, and he lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist. 

You frown. “Aren’t you going out tonight?” 

He shakes his head. “No, sweetheart,” he says, “I’m not done with you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Gotta make sure you know how much I missed you.”

The giddy smile on your face when you kiss him again is involuntary, but not unnecessary. He giggles, too, before you finally shut him up.

Hell’s Kitchen can live without him for one night, that much is for sure. And when he finally thrusts into you and you bite down on the golden metal of that godforsaken crucifix to stifle your scream as he fucks you to hell and back in a way that is gentle yet possessive, you know this is the only place Matt needs to be tonight—for both of you.

[baronessblixen]

Prompt: 8. "Give me that, before anything happens."

Sequel to day 22 "Cookie Theft And Other Crimes" but can be read as a stand-alone: What happens when Mulder wakes up with Scully in his arms? (Fluff all the way! wc: 1,137)

Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2023

Fictober Day 27: Christmas With You By My Side

This could be a dream come true; he’s slowly waking up, Scully soft and warm in his arms, still fast asleep and snuggled against him. It would be a dream if it weren’t for the indistinct chatter becoming louder and clearer.

Mulder blinks his eyes open and loses himself in the sight of Scully with her mouth partly open as if she fell asleep in the middle of an argument. He brushes a strand of hair out of her face, afraid it’ll wake her. He’s hoping she’s so used to her family chattering about that they won’t wake her. He was not as lucky.

“Let them sleep a moment longer. It’s still early.” He hears the whispered hiss. That’s distinctively Mrs. Scully. He cracks a small smile. She of all people knows that her daughter needs all the rest she can get.

“Did you not see them?” Bill Jr. is awake too. Mulder is almost sad that he was blissfully asleep when the other man must have seen them down here on the couch together. He takes it all in. There’s a blanket over them so Bill Jr. couldn’t have seen that his sister is draped over him, her leg between his. Her head is resting on his chest, and he tries to keep his breathing even so that she slumbers on. Knowing Scully, she’d feel if something was wrong even in her sleep.

“I think they look cute.” That must be Tara, Bill’s wife.

“Cute? The guy showed up here in the middle of the night and no one even knew about it.”

“Bill, your sister wanted him here.”

“She doesn’t know what she wants.” Mulder takes a deep breath and tries to stay calm. Another glance at Scully to make sure she doesn’t hear any of this. Last night was hard enough. The throbbing in his jaw reminds him of when Bill Jr. discovered him here and showed him exactly what he thought of him. Mulder just took it and he knows he’d do it again. Maybe he shouldn’t have said the thing about him spending the night in Scully’s bedroom, but he couldn’t help himself. They ended up sleeping together anyway. Not in her bed, but why would they do any of this like normal people might? They left normal behind long ago.

“Bill!” Tara says, remembering too late they’re supposed to be quiet. “That’s your sister you’re talking about.” Mulder finds he likes Tara. How she ended up with someone like Bill Jr. remains a mystery. Maybe they can open an X-File on it.

“He’s caused her nothing but pain.” The disdain in Bill Jr.’s words hits Mulder unexpectedly. His eyes find Scully’s face, so peaceful in sleep. Last night all he saw there was hurt and weariness. He held her, let her know she wasn’t alone. And never would be. He made her smile, too. Elicited a small laugh even. Scully has reminded him more than once that none of what’s happened is his fault. Sometimes, though, it’s difficult to remember. What if Bill is right? The guilt gnaws at him.

“It’s not your place to decide who your sister spends her life with.” Mrs. Scully interrupts his pity party. “Fox and Dana have something special. She loves him and he loves her.” Mulder hears a gasp and for a moment isn’t sure if it came from Bill Jr. or out of his own mouth.

“But Mom…”

“You’ll be nice to him at breakfast.” It’s an order so harsh that even Mulder nods. “Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Mulder chuckles and that’s when he sees that Scully is looking up at him with a curious expression and the smallest of smiles.

“How long have you been awake?” he asks in a whisper, their faces close together. He should care about morning breath, but he doesn’t.

“Just a moment,” she says, her voice still sleepy.

“I hope I didn’t wake you.” She shakes her head, stretching, but not leaving his side. Instead, she snuggles closer and he has to control his breathing again. This time to not let her notice how excited he is. In more ways than one.

“No. It was Bill.” Her tone is laced with annoyance. “His voice has that effect on people.” Mulder just grins at her. “You know he’s wrong, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“When he said that you cause me nothing but pain.”

“You heard that, too?”

“I did, and I want you to get it out of your head. It’s not true. I see that worry line on your forehead there, Mulder.” She touches his forehead with the tip of her finger. “It’s not true.” She says, looking into his eyes. “You hear me?” He nods solemnly, trusting her. If she says it’s not true then all he can do is believe her.

“What about the thing your mother said?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” She’s so obviously lying that he has to laugh. Scully covers his mouth with her hand, not wanting to be found out. For the rest of the house, they’re still fast asleep. “Fine, I heard it.”

“You know it’s true on my end. I told you.”

“We’d just fished you out of the ocean, Mulder. I bet you said I love you to every nurse.”

“I didn’t, and I can just say it again now, Scully. I love you. Your mom is absolutely right about that. And you don’t need to say anything else now. I know how you are in the morning before your coffee. I don’t need the words from you. I know it in here.” He puts his hand on hers, close to his heart. “You follow me to haunted mansions and you let me comfort you when things get too much. I have everything I ever could have asked for.”

Scully doesn’t say anything, but he sees the wheels turning in her head. And then, completely unexpectedly, her mouth is on his. It’s a soft and tame kiss, appropriate for Mrs. Scully’s living room couch. But it’s still the best, most perfect kiss he’s ever received.

“Eww, there are grown-ups on the couch and they’re kissing!” A kid yells and suddenly it’s mayhem.

“They’re what!” Bill Jr. yells.

“Better give me that, before anything happens,” Tara says to either one of the kids or her husband.

“You get back into the kitchen, right now,” Mrs. Scully interferes before Bill can make it to the living room where Mulder and Scully still cling to each other and this moment. More and more people of all ages appear in the living room and Mulder doesn’t know who they are or where they came from. He can’t quite care either because Scully is still smiling at him. It’s already the best Christmas he’s ever had.

[ssturniolo92]

Matt Sturniolo-Fight

pairing-matt sturniolo x reader

genre-angst

warnings-cursing, yelling

description-after a fight y/n and matt separate, but they unexpectedly reunite months later

part 2 part 3

you rarely ever fought with matt. i mean of course you bickered, but this time was an exception.

“why didn’t you tell me this?!” he asked holding up the college acceptance letter. you had been working hard for years to get into a good college and you had finally achieved it.

“because i didn’t think you would care.” you admitted.

“what?!” he asked, taken aback.

“i don’t know, matt. ever since you got big on youtube you just don’t seem to care anymore.”

“me?! i don’t care?!” he yelled. “you’re the one who never answers my calls, hardly ever comes over, and you never even come in our videos.”

“have you not seen the hate i get on there?!” you shouted. “people saying i’m not good enough and that you should move on. don’t you think that hurts?”

“what do you want me to do about it?” he yelled throwing his arms in the air.

you didn’t know how to reply so you stayed silent. matt was never like this unless he was stressed, so apart of you felt bad for fighting with him.

“i still don’t understand why you didn’t tell me about school.” he said quietly.

“fuck school! i don’t care!” i yelled. (i hope you get the reference)

“what do you mean you don’t care? this is all you’ve been working for.”

“no, matt. ever since we started talking, all i’ve cared about was you. i put my heart and soul into this relationship!”

“yeah, we’ll maybe you shouldn’t have.”

you were shocked by his words, your mouth left agape. you turned on your heels and headed towards your shared room. you grabbed your car keys and the money you had been saving together and headed towards the door.

“y/n where are you-”

“save it matt, you’re right. i shouldn’t have put everything i had into you.” you said before slamming the door behind you.

7 months later…

it had been 7 months since that day. and you were doing good. as good as you could be.

“i’m doing good i’m on some new shit.”

you were headed to a date with a guy from school, you had wanted to say no. but you had decided that it would be better for you to move on.

“been saying yes instead of no.”

on your way to school a few weeks ago, you were waiting for the bus. a figure that vaguely looked like matt walked by, and you could see him out of the corner of your eye.

“i thought i saw you at the bus stop,”

to your disappointment, it was a stranger. this had happened dozens of times over the last 7 months, but you still held hope.

“i didnt though.”

after one night of sleeping without matt by your side, your insomnia came back. so instead of just sitting in silence staring at your ceiling, you decided to do something productive. you usually either went on a walk or did homework, or both.

“i hit the ground running each night.”

but now you were spending your sunday afternoon going to a movie with some guy you couldn’t even remember the name of.

“i hit the sunday matinee.”

you guessed that most of the time things just didn’t work out. and that was okay, even if it hurt.

“you know the greatest films of all time we’re never made.”

sometimes you let yourself think back to the times of before. you didn’t let it happen often, but sometimes you let yourself think of what could’ve been.

“i guess you never know, never know.”

apart of you blamed him. if he really wanted you to stay maybe he would’ve gone after you. or he could’ve at least called.

“and if you wanted me you really should’ve showed.”

and the other part of you thought that maybe this was just a life lesson or some shit like that. maybe you would learn from this in the future.

“and if you never bleed youre never gonna grow.”

it had been hard to leave him. but it had gotten easier, at least, if you never let yourself think about it.

“and it’s all right now.”

as you were walking towards the building you ran into someone.

“hey.”

read part 2 here!!!

[melloniley]

Preparing for the Easter (Cielinny fanfic: Ciel Phantomhive x Finny)

(english isn't my native language, so please forgive me for any mistakes ^^ was inspired by the art of @i-n-e-a https://64.media.tumblr.com/b1bb86480d0213312610b8988f514840/5f53b9176a293aee-0d/s2048x3072/405a756083becc05e0777f2cca45c47697c2e350.jpg) Rated: PG-13

The kitchen was in complete chaos, screaming and noise. Basically, nothing new for the servants of the Phantomhive’s family. Bard again ruined the pie, for which Sebastian had already reprimanded him, Mey-Lin broke expensive wine glasses. And only Snake and Finnian were calmly busy painting eggs for the holiday of Easter. It seemed that there was no end to this chaos. Ciel was already used to the fact that his house was sometimes noisy, although he did not like too loud noises. However, it was precisely these sounds that instilled a kind of homely warmth that made one feel calm. But not for Sebastian. Perhaps he was already tired of all this, since over and over again he tried to push it into the servants’ heads to be more careful and attentive. The young master decided to check what the younger servants were doing so painstakingly.

While Finny was stubbornly trying to color the eggs, he didn’t even notice how the earl sat down next to him. Snake did it much better because of his long and neat fingers, like a pianist. And Finnian... it took him a lot of effort not to break another egg. However, even this has already begun to crack. This was starting to get a little annoying. Ciel watched this picture for some time, periodically looking at the expression on the blonde’s face. Maximum concentration and slight irritation. “Beautiful...” - a teenager would think. Perhaps this is so, but he’ll never admit it out loud.

Ciel began to notice the makings of feelings for his gardener even while he was caring about him in Sieglinde's castle. Perhaps Ciel missed those very tight hugs and someone else's warmth that Sebastian couldn’t give. And hugging a creature that literally wants to devour you didn’t bring much pleasure. In appearance, the brunette may seem strict and cold, but he still remains that boy with a lack of care and love. The attention from Lizzie was too intrusive and impudent. It was as if she was mentally screaming: “Here I am, only yours, you shouldn’t need anyone else.” In fact, this is how it should be, because she’s the future bride of the young master. The choice for Ciel had already been made a long time ago, which he disliked catastrophically. And Finny is like a small ray of light in this darkness of depressing events. Yes, he’s quite naive and sometimes stupid. But this is the purest soul among all the masked demons. Ciel comes out of his thoughts and notices that the gardener has broken another egg. Taking a deep breath, the boy leaned his head on his hand.

“Finny, do you need any help?” bocchan asked unexpectedly for the blond boy, causing him to flinch. “You’ve already broken the third egg; it seems to me that you need help to leave at least something for Easter.”

“Ah? Young master?!” boy perked up and immediately straightened up. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you. I was passionate about painting Easter eggs... And yeah, I'm not very good at it”

“It’s okay,” the earl laughed lightly. “I see you put a lot of effort into just putting a pattern on an egg. Of course, I can’t imagine how difficult it is for you, but let me hold it and you’ll paint it, okay? At least this way we'll avoid another egg you break”

“Mhm, let's try it. If you think it’ll be easier this way,” Finnian scratched the back of his head and, biting his lip, dipped the brush into the paint again. Ciel sincerely tried to help his servant, as he perfectly understood that the boy gets upset if something doesn’t work out for him. Gardener tried to draw beautiful patterns on the egg, but for some reason it still turned out clumsy and not as beautiful as Snake’s. Sighing, Finny examined the egg from all sides and looked at young master. “How do you like it, bocchan?”

“It’ll do for the first time, let’s do the next one,” Ciel put the painted egg aside and took another. Snake got distracted by the teenagers, looking up from his coloring.

“I think the egg looks strange. As if it fell into a swamp, Oscar said...” he commented, watching gardener and young master.

“Hey! Young master is actually helping me! Don’t meddle with your comments,” blond boy exclaimed and frowned, already applying a pattern of a different color to the egg. Ciel stood up and leaned slightly so that his face was almost above Finny's ear. The earl put his hand on the gardener's hand and squeezed it a little with his fingers to make it more comfortable to hold the brush.

“Look, there’s no need for sudden movements. Since the egg is too small, we’ll draw carefully and slowly,” young master spoke in a measured voice to calm Finnian down a little and give an example of how to draw correctly. The gardener was too stunned by such an action from bocchan that he seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. He was afraid of ruining this moment of sudden intimacy with a person he cared about. But at the same time, he was still able to direct his attention to what Ciel was showing him, although it was difficult to take his eyes off the smooth-looking skin and red lips.

“... And now in the middle of the flower we add yellow to complete our drawing. Like this... Finny, are you listening?” young master turned his head a little to understand that Finnian was watching the movements of his brush.

“Oh, yes... Yes! It turned out just great!” blonde boy beamed, smiling from ear to ear.

“Now try to draw a flower yourself. You can add hearts, stars - whatever your heart desires. I’ll watch you do it,” Ciel sat back on the bench and crossed his legs.

“I’ll try...” Finny bit his lip and, shooting his eyes at the gentleman again, chose paint and dipped his brush into it. He decided to draw the sun and flowers on the grass. Although there’s not enough space for creative thought, he’ll try to draw as beautifully as young master. And Ciel was still watching Finnian carefully. He really tried, because a boy just can’t do anything wrong after he was helped by the young master himself, whom he almost put high up in the sky.

“Here, look at it, young master. I’ve done paint” gardener looked at the gentleman with puppy dog ​​eyes, hoping to hear praise addressed to him.

“You’re making progress, Finny,” Ciel smiled slightly and tucked a lock of hair behind the gardener’s ear. “I hope you can continue without me. I have a French lesson soon, so I’ll have to leave you for a while.”

“Sure! It’s okay...” Finny blushed slightly. Snake followed the young master with his eyes and, looking at the blond, asked:

“How long will you remain silent about your feelings? You can't hide this forever, Emily said”

“Um? You don't understand, Snake, I wasn't even close to the young master... I'm just his servant, the gardener. And he’s an earl...,” the boy drooped and laid his head on the table. “He will never be able to love someone like me...”

“An attempt isn’t a torture. You didn't even try, Wild said” Snake put the basket of eggs aside.

“Maybe I’ll try someday, but not today. I guess I’ve already exhausted my limit of bocchan’s touches for this month,” Snake barely restrained his chuckle.

[2nd2ndalto]

Even Through the Fire

Written for the @writers-choice prompt "blowtorch". Title is from Through the Fire by Chaka Khan.

___

“Will?”

Will spins around, startled. The over-tall stack of boxes he’d been balancing precariously in his arms tumbles to the ground.

Julia, one of the newest Apollo campers, is standing in the doorway of the supply room. “Oh, sorry!” she squeaks.

“It’s fine, I was trying to do too much,” Will says kindly. “What do you need?”

There’s been an influx of new healers this year, all around the same age. It’s great news - camp is always short on healers - but it always begs the question as to what exactly Will’s father was up to a decade prior. A question Will generally tries not to dwell too deeply on.

“There’s a camper waiting for you in the exam room at the end of the hallway,” Julia informs him.

“Oh. Okay,” Will glances in dismay at the mess on the floor.

“Oh I - I can get that,” Julia says.

Will smiles. “Thanks. I’ll go see what’s up.”

Then - “wait,” Will pauses in the doorway. “Isn’t that the room where the light’s burned out?”

Julia blinks at him in confusion, and Will shakes his head. “You know what, never mind.”

Will makes his way to the exam room at the back of the infirmary. The light is burned out in there - there’s even a sign on the door indicating that the room shouldn’t be used.

Will knocks lightly on the door, opening it to see a teenage boy seated on the exam table. He’s slim, with long legs clad in black denim and wearing… a red hoodie that Will thought he’d lost two months ago. The boy smells slightly of… campfire? Sulphur?

“Nico,” Will says.

“Solace,” Nico responds, not turning his head. His face is almost entirely obscured by the hood, and the dark.

Will steps into the room. “Um. Is this some kind of covert operation? Why are you sitting here in the dark?”

They’ve been friends for two years now, ever since Nico came to stay at camp after the war with Gaea. In that time, Will has learned that Nico doesn’t always make sense. It’s part of his charm, honestly.

Will takes a seat in the plastic chair opposite the exam table, leaving the door cracked open so he can see.

The hoodie Nico’s wearing had been a bit big on Will when he last saw it, making it at least two sizes too big on Nico. The sight of the other boy in the too-large garment - in Will's garment - is undeniably adorable, and Will tries to ignore the flutter in his stomach.

There are so very many Nico-related things that Will’s been trying to ignore for the better part of the last two years - first because he was worried about scaring Nico away and then, more unexpectedly, because he was terrified of losing this friendship that’s come to mean so much to him.

Will tries not to think about the way Nico’s dark eyes can make him lose his train of thought. The way Nico chews his bottom lip when he’s deep in thought, and the very closely related way that Will wants, badly, to press his thumb against that same plush, soft skin. It’s harder still, but he tries not to think about the fond way Nico sometimes looks at Will when he thinks Will can’t see.

“Solace,” Nico says, distracting Will from his thoughts. His voice is even, and he keeps his head down. “Do you remember after Christmas, when you decided to cut your own hair?”

Will cringes. He’d been desperate for a haircut and finally just started hacking away at it in the infirmary washroom one day when there wasn’t much else to do. It’s thankfully grown out now, but it hadn’t been one of Will’s better decisions. Boredom combined with demigod overconfidence and impulsivity can be a dangerous mix.

“Yeah. Why? Did you cut your hair?” Will tilts his head to try and get a look under Nico’s (his, actually) hood.

Nico ducks his head further. “No, I -”

“And where did you find my hoodie?” Will interrupts.

“That’s… not important.” Nico shifts awkwardly. He clears his throat.

“What I wanted to remind you of,” Nico continues in the same careful tone, “is that I did not laugh at your haircut. Even though practically everyone else did.”

Will snorts. “Okay, Nico, what’s going on? Are you injured?” He stands, reaching to push the hood off Nico’s head. Nico doesn’t flinch away which, Will registers on some level, really is a sign of how far they’ve come.

“Oh.” Will puts a hand to his mouth, definitely not thinking about laughing, not even the tiniest bit.

Nico keeps his gaze downcast for a long moment, finally looking up dejectedly. “You can’t re-grow eyebrows, can you?”

Not completely trusting his voice, Will slowly shakes his head.

Nico sighs.

“What - what happened?” Will whispers, forcefully pushing down the laughter bubbling in his chest. Nico’s eyebrows are almost entirely singed off, his face soot-stained, and Will realizes that the smell he noticed earlier was burnt hair.

“Leo. Blowtorch.” Nico says shortly.

Will feels his mouth slowly forming an o. “Shit,” he says.

“Yeah,” Nico agrees. “I’m going to kill him,” he adds matter-of-factly.

Nico’s not one to worry much about his appearance, but he does, usually have really nice eyebrows. Dark and expressive, framing his midnight eyes in a dramatic sort of way.

“Well. You know. You could kind of -” and Will reaches out to flatten Nico’s bangs flat against his forehead, mostly obscuring the lack of eyebrows.

Nico snorts, dropping his head again.

Automatically, impulsively, Will reaches out to wrap his fingers around Nico’s chin, tilting the other boy’s face so that they’re looking at each other once more.

He realizes, a second too late, that the gesture is a little too intimate to be… professional. Or even friendly, for that matter. And now, suddenly, Nico - his friend - is gazing at him searchingly with wide, dark eyes, and Will’s heart is beating in his throat. And Will still hasn’t dropped his hand.

“I - I still love you without eyebrows,” Will whispers, because yes, that is a great way to diffuse the tension. Smooth, Solace.

Nico’s mouth twists, but Will thinks, hopes, it’s more with humour than, say, disgust.

“I still love you without eyebrows too,” Nico says, deadpan, his eyes sparkling.

Will feels as if he could fly.

“Can I kiss you?” Will whispers.

Nico rolls his eyes, grinning. “Yeah Solace, you can kiss me.”

Will does. Nico is smiling even wider now, and Will can’t quite help the little giggle that bursts from his chest, but it’s pretty much the best first kiss he could have imagined. Mostly because it’s Nico.

They part, and Will gently traces his fingers along Nico’s cheekbones and then, carefully, regretfully where his eyebrows used to be.

Nico’s still smiling. It brightens his whole face. Brightens the dark room and the blissful happiness swelling in Will’s chest.

“I might not kill Leo after all,” Nico says.

Will grins and pulls him in again, by the collar of his hoodie. Their second kiss is just as sweet.

[caffedrine]

Keith Howell - Chapter 20 - Summary

I pretty much have no idea what I’m doing. I don’t trust me, and you shouldn’t either. This summary is not guaranteed to be accurate, it’s mostly written for myself to follow along with the route.

When he opens his eyes, he’s deep within a dark forest. There is no sounds of animals or nature, but in the moonlight, he can see the figure of a man standing with his back to him. The man turns around, and Nice!Keith finds himself looking in what can only be described as a twisted mirror.

His eyes are cold, but there’s a hint of irritation in them as well. Alter!Keith notes that this is the second time they’ve met like this.

Nice!Keith is somewhat relieved; he’s been wanting to talk to Alter!Keith face-to-face for a while now, even though this situation feels weird. Without hiding his disgust, Alter!Keith agrees that this is a weird situation, he hates it to the point he wants to punch Nice!Keith. Everything about them sharing a body is weird and troublesome, it would be easier for both of them if one would just disappear.

Nice!Keith laments that he has been depending on Alter!Keith all this time and is sorry about everything he’s make Alter!Keith handle. This upsets Alter!Keith even more; he chose to intervene and act in those situations of his own will, not because Nice!Keith made him. He hates the idea of Nice!Keith directing him, as if he has no ability to make decisions on his own.

The conversation ends awkwardly, and they both watch each other. Eventually, Alter!Keith prompts Nice!Keith, from the face he’s making he obviously wants to ask him something.

Back when they first started switching bodies, Alter!Keith had told Nice!Keith via journal that he could only switch in when Nice!Keith was under stress or otherwise mentally running away. But that wasn’t the case back at Sonia’s party. Did the rules suddenly change or did Alter!Keith lie back then?

Back at Sonia’s party, when Nice!Keith had seen Emma being accosted by that duke, he had wanted to intervene and save her. But instead, Alter!Keith had suddenly taken over, even though the conditions for Nice!Keith being stressed were not met.

Alter!Keith admits that when Emma is involved, it’s somewhat easier for him to take over. However, on that same note, sometimes it’s impossible for him to take over, like during the carriage attack. Alter!Keith hates that he doesn’t know what the new rules are, but he does like that he can interfere with Nice!Keith’s plans. Is Nice!Keith upset that he can’t monopolize Emma?

Nice!Keith is aghast at this accuasation. He wouldn’t dream of monopolizing Emma, forcing her to spend time with him instead of whom she chooses. But does this mean that Alter!Keith likes Emma?

Alter!Keith points out that Nice!Keith also likes her, but is just so terrible at approaching her, he is tempted to sit back and laugh. He asks if Nice!Keith intends to take Emma back to Jade with them.

Nice!Keith doesn’t want to subject Emma to a relationship with them. Besides, he has a terrible track record for protecting those whom he cares about, and Emma would be a prime target if she was in Jade. It would be the carriage situation all over again if she were to come to Jade with him.

It’s just that Nice!Keith wanted to know how Emma felt. If she loved him, he could immerse himself in feelings of happiness and love while he remained in Rhodolite, up until he had to say goodbye. Alter!Keith notes that Nice!Keith is unexpectedly selfish and disgusting. Nice!Keith can’t help but agree.

However, something has changed. It was vague, but Nice!Keith was able to see a little of what happened during the last swap that left Alter!Keith in control.

If that’s the case, Alter!Keith wonders how Nice!Keith is able to keep his calm after what happened between him and Emma.

All Nice!Keith was able to see was impression of Alter!Keith’s desire, and Emma suffering. Alter!Keith notes that isn’t much, but it sounds like his perception is improving. Maybe soon they’ll have a shared pool of memories to access, and Nice!Keith will be able to see through Alter!Keith’s eyes when Alter!Keith is in the front.

Maybe it’s Emma’s influence that’s giving Nice!Keith abilities similar to Alter!Keith’s. Thanks to her, he’s no longer trying to look away when Alter!Keith is in control. He must know subconsciously that if he runs away, he’ll no longer be able to see Emma. Alter!Keith praises Nice!Keith for growing into a big boy. Nice!Keith moves on, asking what Alter!Keith did to Emma.

Alter!Keith smirks; they just did the things that lovers do.

(Hehe)

The forest trembles as a sudden gust of wind violently blows through, shaking the trees and leaves.

Nice!Keith’s thoughts are in a whirl as he, with a sense of horror, recalls the bitemark on Emma’s neck when he first came to after the carriage attack. Alter!Keith asks if it bothers him that he kissed the girl Nice!Keith liked before him.

Nice!Keith doesn’t care about who kisses Emma first. What he cares about is the idea that Alter!Keith is forcing Emma to do things against her will.

Alter!Keith asks what is wrong with wanting to get the girl he likes. He’s not a human, he’s a beast, even if it means hurting someone, he’ll take what he wants. Besides, Nice!Keith also wants Emma by his side, right? Alter!Keith adds that he likes Emma’s face when she’s crying far more than when she’s afraid.

Horrified, Nice!Keith asks what he did to make Emma cry. Alter!Keith tells Nice!Keith to go ahead and ask her. Though maybe instead of replying, she might tell him that she hates them.

As Alter!Keith laughs triumphantly, the forest grows dark, and Nice!Keith has the feeling of being pushed out of the forest. He wakes up with Alter!Keith’s laughter ringing in his ears as he belatedly shouts that this isn’t over.

Nice!Keith realizes that he’s in bed, in control of his body. He now has a new problem – how can he even face Emma after what Alter!Keith might have done to her? He roughly combs his hair with his fingers, taking a long deep breath to calm himself.

It’s not quite morning yet, but the door to his room is suddenly opened. Liam, Keith’s butler, comes in, surprised to see that Keith is already awake. Keith explains that he’s had a lot of things to ‘discuss’ with him. Liam nods, next time he would be pleased if Keith would convey his complaints as well.

Meanwhile, they have a new problem. A messenger has arrived from Jade, in the middle of the night, with a message for the Rhodolite King. Besides the urgency of the late arrival, this messenger is from Fernand, Keith’s uncle, and nemesis.

Later that morning, Emma joins Sariel in the throne room. The previous night after parting with Alter!Keith, she had been informed that the final rose petal had fallen, making today the final day of her service as Belle.

The rose itself is no longer in the throne room, having been moved to Sariel’s office due to the lingering foreign princes. Instead, there is a table full of prepared documents waiting for her signature. With some formality, Sariel welcomes Emma to the throne room and asks if she has made her decision.

Emma has.

During her time as Belle, she considered what kind of king the nation needs. It’s not enough to have a king who is a genius, or a king who excels in warfare. They need a king who is generous, can bind the country together and is decisive in his actions. A king rules more than just the country, but the subjects as well. He needs to be someone who not only puts the people first but is also loved by both aristocrats and commoners.  Rhodolite needs Leon to be king.

Emma leaves the part where she based the ideal king off of Keith.

Sariel accepts Emma’s reasoning, adding that the princes will also be satisfied with it. Together, they fill out the appropriate documents, naming Leon as king.

Normally, with Emma’s duties as Belle finished, she would be asked to leave the palace and return to her previous life as a commoner. However, there are special circumstances now – the presence of foreign princes. Since it would be a diplomatic incident if the princes realized that they were being lied to and Emma wasn’t a real aristocratic lady, Sariel asks Emma to continue on at the palace until this international conference is finished. Emma agrees to do so.

Besides, this gives her a chance to finish whatever it was between her and Keith. At the very least, she would have a chance to say goodbye, even if she never figures out her feelings. She wonders what she should do, the last time they had met she had only given him a vague answer on her feelings.

Sariel suddenly has a very grim expression, as if he was suddenly dissatisfied with how smoothly the document signing had gone. Emma asks him if there’s a problem.

There is. Normally this would be a state secret, but since she and Keith are so close, Sariel is unilaterally deciding to tell her. Tomorrow, Keith will return to Jade. Emma is surprised and asks if this was a sudden decision, wondering if this is why Keith wanted an answer from her yesterday.  But she had thought it was simply a natural next step to what had been happening between them.

Sariel asks her to keep the next part to herself. This early morning, a messenger arrived from Jade, with an unbelievable message.

Keith is accused of attempted regicide and patricide.

*Flashback Time*

In the early morning, the two faction leaders of Rhodolite gather in the parlor with the King’s Regent and Prince Keith.

Leon reports; during Keith’s extended goodwill stay in Rhodolite, the Jade king was poisoned. While it is fortunate that he survived, he is seeking medical care as it was a nearly successful assassination attempt. The perpetrator has been caught, however, during interrogation, Keith’s name came out as the mastermind behind the attempted regicide.

Nice!Keith assures everyone gathered that he had no involvement in this plot against the king. In fact, until he was notified this morning, he didn’t even know that an attempt had been made against the king’s life.

Chevalier, who still has not received any of the books off of his wish list, readily believes him, after all, Keith is far too timid to make an assassination attempt. Leon starts to chide Chevalier, but Keith quickly interjects that Chevalier is right; he has neither the fortitude or the motivation to assassinate his father. No matter what, he refuses to do anything that would cause a rift in the people of Jade.

Leon asks if Keith is saying he’s framed. Keith thinks that is definitely what happened. Everything was a trap, including this extended stay of his.

Speaking of which, Sariel would like to know his reasons behind this stay. Back when they agreed to let him stay, Keith had said he wanted to maintain the harmony between Rhodolite, Benitoite, and Obsidian, but he’s guessing that was not the whole truth.

Keith begins to talk, but Chevalier cuts him off. Keith was here to investigate the rumors of an illegal weapons trade between Rhodolite and Obsidian. The Benitoite and Obsidian delegations’ extended stay was just an excuse, if Keith needed to, he would have come up with another reason to stay in order to investigate.

Keith is amazed, and asks if Chevalier heard this from Emma. Chevalier is confused, of course not. He was simply secretly monitoring Keith’s movements; and how most of his work was investigating connections between Obsidian and Rhodolite. In fact, he approached Emma because of that stunt Gilbert had pulled during the opening ceremony, as she would be an obvious lead to investigate. He stopped investigating her relatively quickly once he realized she was simply a red herring. Additionally, Chevalier notes that Keith has been looking into arms dealers, including the black markets.

Keith is momentarily speechless, before admitting that Chevalier is truly a genius. He would hate to make him an enemy.  

A lot less impressed, Leon asks Chevalier if he would like to share anything else important and crucial to national security. Chevalier considers this for a whole half a second before deciding that no, he doesn’t want to. Sparks fly between Chevalier and Leon as they stare each other down until Sariel clears his throat.

(Chevalier doesn't do teamwork)

Getting back to Keith, who is still in the room, do they know where the rumors of this alleged arms trade originated from? Even Sariel, who has his fingers on the pulse of dark rumors, has never heard about this particular one.

Keith explains that the rumor itself is false. He investigated quite thoroughly, and now believes it was an excuse to keep in him Rhodolite and away from Jade. The rumor was told to him by the King of Jade, but honestly, he believes it was his uncle who started it. Leon vaguely recalls that the King of Jade has a younger brother, Lord Fernand.

Keith briefly explains the antagonistic relationship between himself and his uncle, then apologizes for complaining about internal affairs of Jade. He then apologizes for getting Rhodolite involved in his country’s affairs.

In any case, the messenger from Jade wants to take Keith back with them to stand trial for the attempted assassination. Rather than inconvenience Rhodolite anymore, Keith will leave with the messenger.

Leon asks if he’s certain he wants to do this, after all, if the evidence against him is fabricated, he’s not going to easily be able to defend himself. In fact, Leon would be surprised if Keith isn’t found guilty, and even though he’s a member of the royal family, Keith will probably be executed.

Keith assures them that he’s prepared for the consequences, though he intends to put up a fight against them. As a warning though, if Keith is executed and Lord Fernand assumes the throne, Jade will probably end its neutrality.

Sariel admits that it would be a large problem for them, and Leon asks if there’s anything they can do to help Keith, but Chevalier interrupts him. This is Jade’s problem; they should not interfere. If Leon can’t even see that, he won’t ever become king. With a flip of his cape, Chevalier leaves the room.

Leon is about to say something to Chevalier’s back, but Keith interrupts him, assuring him that while blunt, Chevalier is correct. This is something Keith has to handle, otherwise, the tragedy of ‘that day’ will only be repeated.

*End Flashback*

Emma hurries through the palace, looking for Keith. While she doesn’t know the entirety of the situation, Sariel gave her the general outline that Keith will return to Jade due to urgent business. It was vague enough to worry Emma, so ignoring the complexity of her feelings, she is hoping to speak to Keith one last time.

When things came down to it, Keith had always supported her, so now Emma wants to return that favor. She knows that she may not be able to help him at all, but she can’t sit around and do nothing.

She reaches Keith’s rooms and knocks loudly on the door. To her frustration, there is no answer, and both Keiths are good about answering their door when anyone knocks. She begins to turn, mentally thinking of the next place she can check.

Suddenly she is grabbed from behind, and a cloth with a sweet scent is pressed against her nose and mouth.

[moonctzeny]

get to you again

pairing: friends to lovers! hendery x fem!reader 

genre: smut, just a tiny teeny bit angsty I guess but with a happy ending, fluff

word count: 3k

warnings: raw sex, creampie, a little corruption kink?

summary:  “You wanted to lurch forward at him, tackle him onto the dusty road, and thank him by kissing every inch of his face. Hold him under the stars until you were covered with his smell, and the necklace wouldn’t be needed anymore; you could cling onto that memory instead. The urge was so strong that it made your heart physically hurt, knowing that you fell for the one person you shouldn’t have. But the heart wants what it wants, right?”

inspiration: get to you again - mac ayres

tagging the lovely: @markresonates

It had been too long since you last saw Hendery.

You two had met so unexpectedly, both trapped in a small coffee shop a couple years ago, drenched to the bone and trying to find cover from the sudden rainfall.

“I was going to ask you if you were willing to share your umbrella, but I’m guessing you forgot it on the wrong day like me”, he joked, so you decided to share a table instead. After the fourth time he had you clench your stomach in laughter, out of the sheer willingness to make a stranger like you cheer up, you decided to exchange phone numbers, thus starting what would become a beautiful friendship.

It wasn’t easy being an idol. Two promotions in Korea, then a reality show in China, then another comeback. You counted the days, one by one until he’d get to you again. Until you’d finally re-watch his favorite movie with him for the millionth time, just to get to watch him laugh over the same stupid lines.

You weren’t sure when you realized you had fallen for him. Maybe it was last winter, almost exactly a year ago when he handed you your Christmas present. He had driven you on a hill on the outskirts of Seoul, the only place he knew with some privacy from prying eyes, and the breathtaking view of the tiny city lights made the freezing cold worth it. You were both sitting against the hood of his car, admiring the big city that seemed to unravel at your feet when you opened the small velvet box.

It revealed a silver necklace of two wings hanging from a dainty chain, with his initials carved on the back of the charm. As you stared at it long enough to make sure you weren’t making things up, you couldn’t decide which one was more beautiful- the pendant or the stars in Hendery’s eyes as he waited for your reaction.

“It’s symbolic”, he started explaining, a little embarrassed with how much effort he had put into the gift, “I know I’m not around a lot to take care of you, but just know that I’m always there if you need me. Like your guardian angel”.

He sounded so wholesome while saying it, long bangs covering his eyes that bashfully avoided yours. You wanted to lurch forward at him, tackle him onto the dusty road, and thank him by kissing every inch of his face. Hold him under the stars until you were covered with his smell, and the necklace wouldn’t be needed anymore; you could cling onto that memory instead. The urge was so strong that it made your heart physically hurt, knowing that you fell for the one person you shouldn’t have. But the heart wants what it wants, right?

Tonight, it was beating as fast as the rhythm of the blinking Christmas lights decorating your living room. How could it not, with Hendery sitting only a few inches away, sharing a blanket with you? He was a few minutes late due to a last-minute photoshoot, but he arrived at your door bare faced and dressed in his favourite flannel shirt. He was just how you liked him, raw and soft and beautiful.

Unlike what you had predicted, he suggested checking out a new romantic comedy on Netflix. It was one of those that come out every Christmas season, all with the same low budget and cheesy acting that ended with some festive spirit that magically solves every plot hole. Two childhood friends, falling in love with each other, yet the girl thinks that the guy is way out of her league so she does nothing about it. The pure irony convinced you that the universe must be surely playing some sick joke on you, forcing you to look at a Hollywood version of yourself getting a happy ending for the next two hours.

“I don’t understand”, Hendery huffs in frustration, midway into the film by now, “why doesn’t the girl just tell him she likes him? What guy doesn’t want to hear that?”

“Maybe she’s scared of the rejection, or ruining everything-“ you start defending the character with a raised voice, realizing that maybe you’re invested in the movie a little too much, “sometimes there is this line between two people, and it’s comfortable to stay behind it because you don’t want to lose them in case something goes wrong”. You draw an invisible line with your index finger between your bodies, and Hendery focuses his stare on it as if it was real. He looks lost in his thoughts, still frozen in place before shaking his head and murmuring: “I guess you’re right”.

Your comment, his response, the sex scene playing on the screen. It all made you so painfully alert with his presence that your whole body tensed up and your mouth dried up like it was filled with cotton. You both chuckle in the midst of all the steaminess, as the actor fails to drag his former best friend at the edge of the bed by tagging on her ankle.

“What a loser”, Hendery scoffs mockingly at the character’s mistake, and you turn around to give him a side eyed glare.

“Relax, muscle man. Like you would do it better”

He mocks offense by opening his mouth dramatically, and you giggle at the distortion of his face that still somehow managed to look pretty. It was so cute, how he always wanted to look ‘strong’ in the eyes of others, reliable and macho. You didn’t care about any of that, you thought his resolutions were stupid. He was perfect in your eyes.

“Of course I would! I’m strong, look-“

The disaster played out in front of you like a filmstrip. His hands on your ankle, then his own ankle tripping over the blanket on the floor, and finally the feeling of his chest weighing down over your own. With him pressed so close against you, you were sure he must feel the way your heart is thumping, filled with so many emotions that it’s ready to jump out of your body.

The room was cold, but with Hendery’s sudden body heat coating you, you felt like you were on fire. The fleeting thought of you taking off your clothes, to relieve yourself of the suffocating feeling made your cheeks burn even more. Hendery’s neck was exposed just inches in front of you in it’s full glory, and you thought about where those veins on the side of it, visible through his pale skin, ended. You’d gladly kiss along the path they drew, let your teeth leave little violet blossoms on the way, while you’d make mental notes of what kisses made him react the loudest.

It’s his bangs tickling your temples that made you realize that he is still on top of you. You look up into his eyes, expecting a frantic look, maybe a string of apologies leaving his mouth. He was strangely serene, staring at your own lips instead, and for a second you thought he’d finally mercy you and give you what you daydream about every time he comes around. You’d kill for the sight of him with puffy red lips and blown out pupils, messy just for you. You’d kill for the feeling of his tongue against your own.

When he plants a kiss on your right cheek, right over the corner of your mouth, you think it tastes bittersweet. You were still high on the intimacy when he finally apologizes and rips his body away from yours, your crash back down to reality brutal. The movie was still playing on a high volume, yet all you heard was a deafening silence after his trip. You don’t object when he tells you he has to go before you get to see what happens to the couple behind the screen. They were eating you away, all the things you wanted to say to him as you sent him off, so much more than just a ‘drive safe, text me when you get home’.

Those thirty minutes after you close your front door felt like a lifetime. You replayed the accident over and over again in your head, the skin burning where he kissed you. The thoughts of calling him, telling him to turn around and finish what he started, were so loud that you felt like a crazy person.

You certainly thought you went insane when you heard a knock against your door. Peeking through the peephole, you’re surprised to see that, as if you’d unlocked the secret of manifestation, Hendery was standing once again in your hallway.

“Guanheng? Did you forget anything?”

He looked restless and fidgety as he walked back inside your apartment, like he couldn’t wait to let out whatever was on the tip of his tongue. His shoulders were coated in a light layer of snow that had managed to flush his face, and dampen his hair and eyelashes as well.

“No- well- yes, I-“. He stopped himself mid sentence and sighed, and you let him collect his thoughts. He looked serious, the expression foreign on his usually bright features, yet the way he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration made butterflies fly in your stomach. “What did you say about that line between two friends again? When we were watching the movie?”

You blinked back at him in confusion, waiting for him to tell you that he’s joking, he just forgot his charger, and he’ll see you again when his company allows him to. But he doesn’t, so you start to roll the pendant he gifted you between your thumb and index, trying to calm yourself down.

“It keeps two people that are meant to be together apart, but there is too much at stake to cross it”.

You start drawing that invisible line again, the one that separates the miserable comfort of denying your feelings for him and everything you wish you were brave enough to pursue.

He would be brave for the both of you.

Hendery grabs your lifted hand, bringing it on the side of his neck before he crashes his lips against yours. You don’t hesitate in kissing him back, hungry for his lips that taste as sweet as you imagined them to. He hasn’t realized how impossibly close to his body he has brought you, not until his embrace gets so tight that your necklace pokes uncomfortably against his chest.

You suck on his bottom lip and he welcomes you with his tongue, the kiss getting so heated now that you can’t help but tug on his hair to keep you grounded. Shivering from your action, his hands are now sliding from your hips to your waist, following the curves of your body until he reaches the underside of your breasts. You mewl against his lips as his thumbs dig into their softness, discreetly trying to cop a feel through your cotton shirt.

A moan leaves your mouth, lewd and desperate as he swallows it with a kiss, and he rips himself off of you when it seems to reach his stomach. He looks disheveled, as if he woke up from an intense, lucid dream; panting, sweating, staring at you with those big puppy eyes.

“We- we shouldn’t. We are going too fast, right?” You nod in agreement at his question but you’re not really listening. You had your fingertips placed on his moving lips, and he identifies the metallic smell as the remnants of you fidgeting with your jewelry earlier. “I should take you to dinner first, to that one place you like so much”. Losing interest in what he is saying, the words being too distant and grey when he stood so deliciously in front of you, you mindlessly start to unbutton his shirt, fascinated with that mole over his collarbone and wanting to see more.

The fire your fingers spread against his skin, in the midst of the chilliness of your living room has him groaning under his breath, with a voice as low and sexy as in his good morning calls. You can practically see him throw all his inhibitions out the window when he kisses you again, pushing you with his body until your back finds the nearest wall. Hendery’s hands are far from gentle now, leaving bruises behind all the soft spots he kneads with his fingers.

“I want you”, you confess with a whisper as you rid him off his flannel for good, and you can’t stop yourself from tracing all the lines of his toned abdomen. You can feel his heart thumping loudly in his chest, its fast rhythm matching yours. You grab his hand to lead him to the carpet next to the Christmas tree that is blinking along with the lights that adorn it- you’re too impatient in your arousal to take him to your bedroom and he doesn’t protest.

Hendery lays you on your back, finding his place between your legs as you wrap them around his waist to bring him closer. You remove your hoodie and the sports bra you had on, his lips immediately latching onto one of your nipples. He circles his tongue around the bud, licking and sucking on it interchangeably until you’re a begging mess underneath him.

Tugging on the elastic band of his sweats, you urge him to get naked for you completely, and he removes the extra garments with a strong pull. His sex bouces out of its cotton constraint, red and throbbing and aching for you. It makes the heat that’s pooling on your lower stomach spread even further, and you wiggle your hips to remove your sweatpants as well.

There’s something about the frilly pink panties you’re wearing- the innocent design on your shapely body that ignites a carnal instinct in him. He wants to ruin you, mark you, make you his. The sound of fabric getting ripped has your eyes bulge out in shock. You’ve never seen Hendery so determined.

He falls on top of you again, leaving urgent kisses on your jawline as he rubs his hard member against your heat. It’s driving you insane, how he’s so close to where you want him but not quite there yet, and you tug his hair again to make him look at you.

“I wanna feel you raw”

And raw was how he’d give it to you. You feel his warm hand over your stomach, keeping you in place as he aligns himself with your entrance, and the pressure his tip’s already feeling has him cursing out.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this”

He dips himself slowly into your pussy, careful not to stretch you uncomfortably much. His worried eyes are glued to your wide ones, reading your expressions to ensure they’re those of pleasure. And indeed they are, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when he bottoms out fully, a symphony of both your moans filling the room.

He starts out with a steady rhythm, your pussy adjusting to his size with every calculated thrust. You’re getting drunk with the intimacy, with his smell that sticks to your skin and the sweet nothings he whispers in your ear. You feel addicted to it already, to the feeling of having him be a part of you, and as his growing desperation has him picking up his pace, yours makes you wish you could live in that moment forever.

“I don’t think I’ll last much longer”

”Neither do I”

He can tell how close you are, your heaving chest and guttural sounds giving you away. His cold fingers find your clit then, rubbing your sensitivity in messy circles and pumping more blood to the area.

“Yes, baby. Let go for me”

Little stars of various colors dance around in your vision, framing the sight of Hendery fucking into you so beautifully. You enjoy the hypersensitivity that the continuing motion of his hips gives you, locking your legs around his waist as his thrusts turn sloppy.

“Come inside me”

Just those simple words, slipping out of your pretty mouth are enough to send him over the edge, grunting as he paints your walls in ropes of white. You feel him twitching inside you for a good while, your belly bulging in fullness. It drips out of you slowly when he finally gets off of you, his hands spreading your thighs apart so that he can admire his creation.

He chuckles in disbelief of what you two just did, removing a piece of fake snow that somehow landed on your hair. You can only admire the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down, all the little curves and shadows on his neck, his smile that gives you tunnel vision.

“All this time…”, he whispers softly, “you liked me too?”

You silently winced at the naiveness of his words, knowing damn well your feelings ran way deeper than a simple attraction. Nodding affirmatively, you avoid looking at his eyes by pretending to play with his fingers. You can’t let him see the way they have glossed up, yet the numbing feeling of disappointment is getting hard to ignore.

He doesn’t let you distance yourself from him further, lifting your chin up so you can make eye contact with him again. To your surprise, he looks way more nervous than you, subconsciously nibbling on his lower lip. He takes a deep breath, mustering up some courage before verbally letting his thoughts out of his chest.

“What if I told you I am in love with you?”

You were shocked at the confession, so much so that this reality seemed like a figment of your subconscious mind. You expected to wake up at any moment, to find yourself asleep on your couch, two feet away from him and still stuck in the sucky friendzone. But that moment never came, no matter how long you held your breath to trigger your awakening, and you let it go with a sigh and a blurb of your own thoughts.

“I’d ask you to be mine”

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 1) - The Nanny

Summary: The reader interviews for a new live-in nanny position with Jensen and quickly gets the job but she starts to slowly see that her new employer is going to be different than any other she’s had before...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Square: Slow Burn

Word Count: 4,800ish

Warnings: language, mention of death of a spouse/death of a parent

A/N: Please enjoy the first part of this series! This was also written for @supernatural-jackles​ Tell Me A Story Bingo!

________

If someone had said you’d be celebrating your 30th birthday by accepting an interview to be a live in nanny when you were a kid, you would have told them they were nuts. Beyond nuts. Beyond help for that matter.

But there you were. Thirty. Single. Childless. Taking care of other people’s families and not doing much else with your life. You weren’t sure if your mom would have been on you about the no kids thing or the no boyfriend thing more to be honest.

But the pay was normally good and sometimes great and it gave you a taste of family, even if you were just the help to the adults most of the time.

You buzzed the button by the gate at the end of the driveway, a brief moment passing before it opened. It was probably on a timer like most of the people you’d worked for before, an alarm system kicking on at some point in the evening that required a buzz in, the code or a car sensor. You drove down the driveway and parked a little behind a black SUV. The house was a little modern, a little grand, a little overwhelming. A fence and lots of trees surrounded the property. The yard appeared large but you could see houses on either side. Private but suburban. 

The cadillac wasn’t a shocker. Most everyone in these neighborhoods had Escalades. You walked past an open garage on the way up, a muscle car and a more modest smaller SUV parked inside. You went up the very short path and stepped up, ringing the doorbell and fixing your shirt. You were in jeans and a plain gray shirt. It was your normal wear for chasing small children around all day and you weren’t a fan of uniforms.

“Hi,” said a very tired, very handsome man as he opened the door. “You must be from Nanny Core.”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N from Home Pair,” you said with a smile. He shut his eyes and leaned his head against the door. 

“The last girl was from Nanny Core,” he said. He blinked them open and shook his head. “I’m so sorry. Yes, Y/N. You’re the one that’s a consultant, not firmly associated with Home Pair, right?”

“Correct,” you said as he opened the door more and you stepped inside.

“Can I ask what the distinction is?”

“Mostly it has to do with benefits,” you said. “Consultants pay out of pocket for their own or negotiate with their client for those to be covered.”

“Gotcha,” he yawned. You looked ahead and he wiped his hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I must seem like an ass.”

“You seem tired is all Mr. Ackles. Not a crime,” you said with a smile. He nodded and he returned it, no fake cheesiness to it. 

“Mind if we do the interview in the kitchen over a cup of coffee?” he asked.

“Wherever you like, sir,” you said. You took off your shoes when you noticed he didn’t wear any inside and he chuckled as you walked back farther into the house.

“Uh, for the record, call me Jensen. None of that sir stuff. They must teach that at nanny school or something huh?” he said, motioning to a table. “I noticed all of you do it.”

“Something like that,” you said. You took a seat and watched him go to a coffee machine, fumbling with it before he spilled some ground coffee on the counter. He shut his eyes and gripped the counter’s edge, taking a deep breath to himself. “How about I make the coffee and you take a seat, hm?”

“I’m okay,” he said as he opened his eyes. 

“Well making you coffee is probably going to come up in my job quite a bit so consider this part of the interview. It’s alright, really,” you said. He glanced over to you and you smiled. 

“Thank you,” he said. You swapped places with him and got him a cup going, taking a mug off the counter and waiting a beat before liquid started pouring out. “I’m gonna ask you the same question I’ve asked all seven other women I’ve talked to today.”

“Yes?”

“Why should I trust you to watch my children?”

“Honestly?” you asked as he nodded. You smiled and carried the cup over to him, Jensen taking a long sip. “You shouldn’t.”

“I shouldn’t. That seems counterproductive.”

“I wouldn’t trust any stranger with my child. Trust is earned, not given. I think the real question is do you believe I’m capable of earning that trust with you and that’s something intrinsically only you know.”

“How so?”

“You meet a lot of different kinds of people with this job. My gut reaction to you is stressed, overwhelmed, sleep-deprived father who doesn’t really want any nanny at all but is forced into this situation. It’s going to be impossible for you to trust any of the seven woman from earlier or me off the bat, Jensen. You should be thinking of who will you come to trust. Who can you count on.”

“This is why my wife should have been the one doing this,” he said, smiling to himself as he drunk down most of the hot liquid.

“We could always re-schedule for when she’s available.”

“Oh, we’d have to wait a very long time for that,” he chuckled. He sat the mug down and glanced down briefly, smiling as he looked up. “She passed away unexpectedly six months ago. Car accident.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you said. He nodded and made a face like he wanted to make a comment. “My mom died kinda unexpectedly. I know it’s...harder.”

“You’re young. How old?”

“Turned thirty today,” you said. He laughed and you heard the life behind it, Jensen shaking his head.

“Well Happy Birthday. I meant with your mother though. If that’s okay with you I mean.”

“It’s fine. I was sixteen,” you said. 

“That...fucking sucks doesn’t it?”

“So does losing your wife,” you said. 

“Yes it does. I’ve grieved. We all have. The kids are small. They’ll be okay.”

“Is dad okay?” you asked.

“Yes. Ready to start moving on with life again,” he said with a soft smile. “You’re kind. Not in a I’m trying to get this job kind of way. Just kind.”

“Well being cruel doesn’t sound like very much fun,” you said.

“You’re not trying to impress me.”

“The first rule of nannying, Jensen. You think you’re interviewing us when in reality we’re interviewing you too.”

“How am I doing so far?”

“Nice coffee choice,” you said with a smile that he nodded at. “You respect people. You’ll employ me but won’t treat me like I’m second class. You’re checking the boxes so far.”

“What if I don’t check all the boxes?”

“You don’t get to know the luxury of knowing the answer yet, Mr. Ackles,” you said. “Interview isn’t over.”

“You got fucked over by somebody, didn’t you.”

“Also perceptive,” you said. “Like I said, I don’t tolerate being treated unkindly anymore. It’s why I left my last position.”

“I have one more question,” he said. “Would you treat my children like they’re your own?”

“Again, asking the wrong question,” you said. He sat back and crossed his arms, smirking at you.

“What exactly should I be asking?”

“Will you treat my children kindly and with respect but take charge when required?”

“What’s the difference?”

“One is me doing my job and the other is me doing yours.”

“How old did you say you were again?”

“Thirty today.”

“Right. Well I think I know where I stand. Do you have anything for me?”

“Can you show me a picture of your kids?” you asked. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. “You answered my question.”

“I didn’t show you anything yet.”

“You’d be surprised how many fathers I’ve met don’t carry pictures of their children in their wallets. That one is just a me thing.”

“Your dad do that?” he asked as he tucked it away.

“Maybe,” you said with a shrug. He was polite enough to not go down that route though and this was already getting more personal than you anticipated. “I think I know where I stand as well.”

“I’d like to hire you,” he said.

“Assuming our negotiations go well, I accept,” you said. He held out his hand over the table and you shook it.

“I did come up with what I thought was fair for salary and benefits. Let me go grab the paperwork and hopefully settle on something,” he said. He excused himself and you looked around the house, already trying to familiarize yourself with things. He was more relaxed when he returned with some papers and a notebook, handing you a few sheets. “If I’m missing anything let me know. I-”

“This is my weekly rate?” you asked when you saw the number at the top of the page.

“Oh no. That’s your daily,” he said as he took a seat. “So I think that’s-”

“Jensen,” you said, pushing the paper back. “I have to ask, things like insurance, are those coming out of your pocket or mine?”

“I’ll cover the expenses of your health, dental, all of that. You just choose and I’ll subsize it as part of your paycheck,” he said. 

“This is for a live in position. Um...can you just...explain what makes up that daily rate number?” you asked.

“It’s simply your base pay. Obviously I pay for housing, utilities, gas obviously. I will get you a credit card to make purchases with for the kids and all of that so it’s simple to keep track of. You’re free to any of the food in the kitchen. I’m guessing the salary is the sticking point here.”

“Jensen,” you said as you scratched your head. 

“I can go up fifty more dollars a day.”

“Jensen. This is way, way too much money. Way too much,” you said. “The average rate around here is about twenty five an hour or two hundred a day. Jensen this is double that. Are you factoring in like time and a half for additional nights and weekends?”

“No. That’d be on top of that. I thought that was a fair value based on the fact you are going to be taking care of the most valuable things in my life. It’s gonna get taxed too so it’s not like you see all of it.”

“You’re sweet, Jensen,” you said, writing down a number at the top of the page. “The average in Austin is twenty five an hour. I would be very happy with that.”

“You have to literally be the first person in existence to negotiate their salary down from the offer,” he said.

“Are you rejecting my offer?” you asked. He took the paper and crossed your number out, jotting down his own and spinning it back. “Jensen.”

“Y/N,” he said, crossing his arms. “I came down. Now it’s your turn. Do you accept?”

You knew thirty five was still way overpriced for the job, especially considering everything else he was paying for.

“I will accept on the condition that you get four hours of what we’d call evening or weekend at the normal rate ever week.”

“I can agree to that,” he said with a smile, writing that down. “So medical plan. Single, plus one, family?”

“Single for all that,” you said. 

“I should mention that there is an in-law suite off to the other side of the garage where you’ll be staying. It’s just down the hall but it has its own small living area and kitchenette. There is a separate entrance to it. If you have guests over I just ask you keep them to your area of the house,” he said.

“Absolutely. I don’t tend to bring people over much anyways while I’m on the job,” you said. He let you read over the rest of the benefits, a good amount of sick and vacation time too. Technically you were free evenings and weekends but he could ask you to work longer if he needed you and you were available. Overall everything seemed in order. “Alright. Everything looks good to me.”

“Awesome. Are you available to start Monday?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said. “It gives me plenty of time to move in things tomorrow so I can jump into the kids routine first thing Monday.”

“Perfect,” he said. “I’ll show you around. We can start with your side of the house.” You got up and followed him over to near the front door and down a long hallway, past a set of doors. There was a frosted glass one to your left just before he pushed open a wide white one.

Behind it was a living area and kitchen. Not huge, about the size of a small apartment. There was a TV and sectional, a table tucked against the wall and a kitchenette like he’d mentioned with full size appliances. 

“Like I said, I know it’s small. Please like, seriously watch TV out in the family room at night if you want or hang out wherever or the yard or pool. This is just your own space when you want to be away from us.” You hummed and he showed you a closet and then a bedroom and bathroom. It was simple but decorated nicely and looked relaxing. “If there’s something obvious I’m missing please let me know. A cleaning service does come by every two weeks on Tuesdays at around ten in the morning. They’ll do in here too. Otherwise you can keep after yourself. Cleaning stuff is in the laundry room. Oh yeah. Um, this is probably the last time I’ll like, ever come in here unless you need help moving things in since this will be your space.”

“Thanks. I don’t have too much. I do have one request before we sign all the paperwork.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d like to meet the kids if that’s alright. There’s not much point in hiring me if they hate me.”

“Fair point. We’ll get ‘em over here and then get you all squared away.”

Monday Morning

“Good morning,” you said, a cup of coffee in your hand already as Jensen yawned. 

“Morning,” he mumbled. His hair was a mess and he was in only a pair of boxer briefs before he paused and looked down. “I should probably put on some clothes.”

“This is your house. Wear whatever you normally would. Pretend I’m invisible,” you said as you poured a cup of coffee into a mug for him.

“Sounds like you worked for some real assholes,” he said, graciously taking the cup. “As long as it doesn’t bother you, me walking around in my undies.”

“No, not at all,” you said with a smile. “Would you like me to drop the kids off at school and daycare this morning?”

“Sure,” he said. “Car keys are on the table by the garage.”

“Okay great. I’m used to driving that kind of SUV,” you said. You snuck a look at your schedule you’d printed out again, knowing the twins would get need to get picked up around noon. You started to work on their lunches and snacks for the day while he took out the carton of eggs from the fridge. He cracked one into a pan and turned the heat on, yawning again as he got out some bread and threw it on a plate. “Would you like me to make lunch for you as well?”

“No thank you. I’m getting lunch with my manager today. You don’t have to make me coffee in the morning either, Y/N. Your job is to take care of the kids, not me,” he said.

“A cup of coffee is not difficult, Jensen. My job is to help you so if I can make dad’s life a smidge easier it’ll make theirs better too,” you said with a smile.

“You’re not like, a morning person are you,” he chuckled. “I don’t do peppy in the morning.”

“Oh no. I’m always a little nervous when I start a new job. I’ll get a rhythm down soon,” you said.

“So what do you normally do once the kids are dropped off?” he asked as he got out a spatula.

“On a weekday I’ll review their schedule, see if anything different is going on. An average day like today I will clean their rooms, their bathroom, do some laundry while they’re at school, maybe some shopping. I’ll pick up the twins, bring them home for lunch, a little playtime, a nap. We’ll have some quiet time and maybe a craft or coloring before we get JJ from school. Then I’ll give them all a snack, we can get outside and play to get some energy out. I’ll help JJ with any schoolwork she has while the twins play and then I will start on dinner about the time you’ll be getting home. Since you have no plans currently tonight I’ll leave you guys be at that point until tomorrow unless you ask me for help.”

“So when do you take a break?” he asked.

“Naptime. I’ll have lunch with the twins. Don’t worry about me Jensen. That’s my normal plan but if you would like me to run some errands in the morning I can,” you said.

“No, no. Just…” he trailed off. “I still want to make them breakfast and dinner and play with them too is all.”

“We’ll figure out the right mix of things,” you said. “You just gotta tell me is all, okay? It can vary day to day too,”

“Yeah,” he said, taking his fried egg out of the pan and placing it on one piece of bread. He made a sandwich and took a big bite, looking out the back window. “I never asked. How was your birthday?”

“Hm?” you hummed, dropping some carrots into a reusable bag.

“On Saturday you said it was your 30th. You do anything fun that night?” he asked with a soft smile.

“I got a new job. That was the highlight of my day,” you said, Jensen cocking his head. “I ordered pizza, binged netflix. My normal Saturday routine.”

“I know everybody jokes about 30 but it’s really just jokes. Wait until you’re 42,” he chuckled. “Then you really feel old.”

“Most 42 year olds would kill to look like you,” you said. You shut your eyes and shook your head. “I’m so sorry. That was so inappropriate.”

“It’s alright. I took it as a compliment,” he said, smiling again. “So you did nothing for your birthday, huh?”

“Uh, no,” you said, mixing in some grapes into each of the snack bags.

“I’m gonna get you a birthday cake,” he said.

“Mr. Ackles-”

“I thought I said it’s Jensen. I’m the boss so what I say goes. We’re gonna have a birthday cake for you tonight. So. What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Whatever you want is perfectly fine.”

“Y/N.”

“...I like red velvet,” you said. He smiled and chuckled. 

“That was my wife’s favorite,” he said. “Haven’t had that since her birthday. She would have liked you.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You’re quite kind to me. She was always protective of me, even if she was the scaredy cat most of the time.”

“Can I ask how…” you said as he took another bite.

“Accident. Tractor trailer versus her car. He tried to miss her but it was too late. I wanted to hate the guy too but it was an accident and I couldn’t blame him for that.”

“My father died in a car crash when I was six. It does get better with time,” you said.

“That’s why you didn’t know if he had a picture of you in his wallet or not,” he said as you nodded. “You’re too young to have that much tragedy in life.”

“So are you.”

“I’m not young anymore.”

“You’re young and overly generous,” you said with a smile. 

“Misery loves company,” he said as you both heard a few feet above you running around. “Munchkins are up.”

“You want to make breakfast or should I?” you asked.

“Give me five minutes to get them in some clean clothes. Then I can show you how they like their eggs.”

“Sounds like a plan, Jensen.”

Later That Evening

“Y/N?” said Jensen, knocking on the door to your room. You got up from the couch and answered it, Jensen standing there with a smile. “The kids and I were wondering if you’d like your birthday cake for dessert.”

“You actually got me a cake?”

“I did indeed,” he said. You followed him down the hall and back into the living space, Arrow running up to you.

“Y/N! Are you sleeping over?” she asked as she gave you a hug.

“I live just down the hall now, cutie,” you said.

“Daddy, can we have ice cream too?” asked Zeppelin as he climbed up into his chair at the table.

“Sure thing bud. Girls, would you like some too?” he asked. Both the little ones said yes as he looked back at you.

“I really shouldn’t,” you said.

“We eat ice cream in this house,” he said.

“You don’t have to twist my arm over it,” you said. He got out the container and set it down on the table by the cake, lighting the match on the candle on top. “Oh please don’t-”

He started to sing though and the kids joined in, Jensen having a really good voice actually. You blew out the candle when they were through and he dished up some dessert for everyone.

“Y/N, can you read me a bedtime story later?” asked Zeppelin and you glanced at his father, Jensen making a face.

“Well Y/N’s not at work right now so she doesn’t have to unless she wants to,” said Jensen. “We’re already cutting into her-”

“I would love to, Zepp,” you said, his little face lighting up. “Maybe you guys want to join us?”

“JJ’s a little big to get read to at night I’ve been told,” said Jensen.

“Am not,” she said. “I can get a story too, right?”

“Of course,” you said. You took a bite of the cake and hummed. “This is really good.”

“I bought it myself,” said Jensen. 

“Well you have good taste,” you said. “In fact, I’m gonna have another slice.”

“Good,” he said as Zeppelin grabbed the ice cream container. “Alright, alright. You can have a bit more, bud.”

“Night, JJ,” you said, getting a hug from her as you put her back to bed an hour later. JJ smiled from her bed and you flicked off the light, pulling the door shut after you turned on her night light.

“Thanks for giving up your night with them. I didn’t mean to have that happen,” said Jensen as you headed downstairs with him.

“It’s no problem. It’s good bonding for us,” you said. You helped him pick up the plates at the table and wash them off, Jensen grabbing a bottle of whiskey from a tall cabinet as you covered up what was left of the cake. 

“Drink?” he asked.

“A small one,” you said. He poured a single into a whiskey glass and slid it over to you, smirking when you took a sip. “Oh that’s smooth.”

“Very,” he said, drinking from his own glass. “Thank you for tonight. JJ’s been…”

“She’s the oldest. She’s gonna have a harder time with it.”

“You were about her age when your dad died you said?”

“She’ll be okay. She’ll miss her but it won’t be a deep pain. She’ll have nice memories of her mom. She’s doing pretty good, trust me.”

“Can I ask another personal question?”

“I’m off the clock. Shoot,” you said.

“Your mom ever...try again with someone else?”

“Yes. Years later she found a good guy. He actually is who I stayed with after she passed. He’s married now, has some kids of his own but I know if I call him up he’d drop everything for me.”

“Good. I was getting afraid you were a complete Shakespeare tragedy,” he chuckled.

“Nah. I’m not at that level of crazy in my life,” you said. “As long as we’re off the clock, can I ask if you’re asking because you’re thinking of getting back out there?”

“I am. My wife kind of insisted on it. When we first got serious we had this deal that we’d go try again if something happened. I mean, I don’t cry everytime I think about her now. I can smile and be happy and that ache doesn’t try to swallow me up everyday anymore. I think it’s time I could get back out there.”

“I’d say it is. The kids are ready. They’ll understand.”

“You think your mom loved the second guy as much as your dad?”

“For sure. She was a bit of a free spirit but she didn’t think you had to have just one soulmate. She told me that after she’d met Ray. She said she got two so maybe I had two out there. I haven’t found either one of them yet so I’ll take increasing my odds as best I can.”

“Well you’re not gonna meet your soulmate sitting at home on Saturday nights, Y/N.”

“Just a lot of douchey guys,” you said.

“Ah. You need to meet a better kind of guy is all,” he said.

“Yeah see I’m thirty. All the good guys are married by now.”

“Oh all of them are taken. I didn’t realize that,” he said with a chuckle. “What am I then? Another douchebag?”

“You don’t count. You’re…”

“Too old for you?” he chuckled.

“My boss. Plus you’re like famous. You can go get like a victoria secret model or something.”

“Looks ain’t everything.”

“Maybe I ought to try older guys now that you say that,” you said.

“Y/N, you gotta be careful with that. I don’t want to see you get taken advantage of.”

“And this is why I watch netflix on Saturday nights,” you said.

“You serious about the older guy crack?” he asked. 

“I do find them more...attractive sometimes. I guess it depends on how old. Why?”

“I got a friend my age, might be interested?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you said. “No offense to your friend but...I mean if he’s 42...I want kids and stuff you know? Although a dude it doesn’t really matter how old...I don’t know.”

“It was just a thought,” he said with a smile.

“I’ll think about it,” you said. “He’s not a weirdo, right.”

“No. He’s an actor. Something to think about,” he said.

“I will,” you said. “Thank you for the birthday cake, Jensen. You’re a good person.”

“I bought a cake.”

“Yeah but I haven’t really had one of those in years. You’re a good person.”

“You’re very welcome,” he said as you slid off your seat. “You’re free to hang out if you like.”

“I’m kinda tired. I won’t be getting up that early from now on I don’t think.”

“I completely understand,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight Jensen.”

________

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[cherryatiny]

𝐃𝐚𝐝! 𝐀𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐦𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑑𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑖𝑒𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑤𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑡𝑒 𝑑𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑑 <333

𝐺𝐼𝐹𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑑𝑖𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑤𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑠

⩥ 𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠

Letting the last droplets of water fall on your exposed shoulders, you turned the water off, putting the showerhead to its previous place after showering the bubbles of your body. Drying your body with a soft towel you prepared beforehand, you slipped into your underwear, opening the bathroom door and going to the bedroom, being met with the sight of your husband Hongjoong, who was currently laying on your shared bed, watching some things on his phone with headphones plugged in.

His eyes peeked on your exposed figure and as they landed on your stomach, they immediately widened, you could see how he swiftly jumped from his place, falling on the ground from the unsuccessful jump. Collecting himself, he got on his knees in front of you. „What the fuck are you doing Joongie?” Hongjoong was switching between looking at your belly and looking up at your face.

„Oh my, you grew a baby bump, oh my god, that's my baby inside you.” His hands cupped the bottom of your belly, poking it with amazement in his eyes, trying to find out if it's really a baby growing inside of you. „Waah, neither of these feel real, whether the fact that there's a tiny clump of cells growing inside of you, that will eventually turn into a human being or the fact that you're so fucking cute with this cute little bump. Literally, how did a deserve you?“ letting out a small chuckle at his words full of amazement, you kneeled to be on his eye level, looking deep into his sparkling dark eyes and pecking the tip of his nose, putting your hands on top of his. „I have the same question, Kim Hongjoong.“

⩥ 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚

Stirring the veggie mix in the wok, you rummaged through the cabinets, looking for soy sauce to add to the vegetables. Humming to a random song you heard on a radio a few days ago, swinging your hips to the rhythm. „What are you cooking, darling?“ Almost jumping from your spot as your husband Seonghwa unexpectedly wrapped his arms around your waist, you tried to calm your breath still shocked from the unanticipated touch.

„Hwa, baby, you should work on this awful habit of yours, I felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest. Please let me know beforehand before you talk or hug me from behind. Stirred veggies with rice and tofu.“ Nuzzling his face into your neck like a hurt puppy, he apologized for scaring you in a tiny barely hearable voice.

Embracing you in a tight hug that kept you close to him as you cooked. „Hm, wait, what is it?“ Turning your head around to look at his confused face. „What do you mean?“ His hands started to caress your lower stomach, poking and pressing on it. „What are you doing Hwa? It tickles!“ Not stopping his actions you slipped out of his embrace, turning your body around to face him.

„Wait, let me touch it again, I swear it changed,... like the structure of your stomach, it's different.“ Kneeling in front of you he lifted your t-shirt, looking at it and resuming his previous actions. Squirming from the tickling touch of his fingers, you let out soft squeals. „Oh my god, Y/N, it really changed. Could it be the baby? Oh my, right, it must be the baby, your lower belly is rounding.“

„You weirdo, examining the changes in the structure of my stomach.“

⩥ 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨

As you finished cutting some fruit for the boys, you placed the bowls on the coffee table in their living room. Your husband Yunho sitting on the couch watching as you took care of his friends, his hand wrapping around you and pulling you back to his lap, your back falling onto his chest. „Rest baby, you don't need to take care of them, they're adults, even though they sometimes don't act that way.” nodding and smiling at his playful advice. „But I want to, you know I have to train these motherly skills for our baby.” whispering into his ear for only him to hear, you turned around to face the boys who were half-arguing about who's the best character in a show they're watching.

„Eat up, I cut those fruits for you, you need vitamins.” before you even finished your sentence, Yeosang was already stuffing his mouth with watermelon, making you all burst out laughing. „No worries Y/N, you should rest, also can I ask you something?” nodding to Hongjoong's hesitant words, he asked you the question he was referring to.

„I don't want to come off rude or anything, so please don't take it that way, but isn't your baby bump showing already?” the man underneath you quickly straightened up, bending down to look at your stomach because of his hyung's words. „Oh my god, Y/N, why didn't you tell me your baby bump is showing.” turning around to face Yunho's surprised face. „I thought you noticed..?”

Wooyoung and San let out loud laughter at how flushed Yunho was. „Yunho you should've seen how you looked right now, you really didn't notice Y/N's baby bump? I can't with you. Try to use your eyes sometimes. But to be honest, who would've thought that your sperm would grow to this size, impressive.” Those two couldn't stop laughing, Yunho only put on his expression of a hurt puppy as you pecked his nose with reassuring words. „Don't worry Yuyu, it might work out next time.”

⩥ 𝐊𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠

When Yeosang found out that you're pregnant, he couldn't hide the happiness. He was so excited but so scared at the same time. Buying a lot of educational books and attending workshops, to know how to become the best dad. At the same time, he wanted your pregnancy to be memorable so you two can have lovely reminiscences to remember in a few years. Apart from the basic medical record, you two built up a habit of taking pictures every week, to see how your body changed as the weeks of your pregnancy passed.

„Okay okay, go there Y/N, keep still as every week.” Snapping the picture of your figure standing in front of the white wall from side and front. You sat down on Yeosang's lap, arms wrapping around his neck as you looked at the screen of the camera in his hands, switching between today and last week's photos. „Wah, Y/N look! Your baby bump got visible since the last week. Aww, our baby is growing well inside you.” smiling at his adorable attitude. „Aww Yeosangie, are you crying?” Amazed at how quick you noticed it, he swiftly wiped the tears off his eyes. „No I'm not crying, it was just dirt in my eye.”

„One day, when our baby will be older, I will tell it a story about how its father teared up when it was growing in my womb.“ Giving you a death glare, Yeosang turned off the camera with the photos he took. „Try to embarrass me in front of my child and I'm going to sublime into another galaxy.“ Chuckling at his sarcastic remark you hugged his muscular frame. „Please don't, I'd have no one to tease then, Sangie.“

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐧

Looking at yourself in the body-length mirror, you examined your body, hugging your frame and trying to cover the parts you didn't like. Especially the gained pregnancy fat on the lower stomach. Turning around, trying to find the angle you looked the best in. Not aware of your husband San observing your movements, while leaning on the door frame. His voice scaring the heck out of you, as he spoke. „What are you doing, darling?“ Turning around you looked at him, your hands wrapped around your body to cover as much as possible. „I- Don't you think I gained weight, Sannie? Especially some fat on my stomach and I'm not even that far in my pregnancy. What am I going to do? I feel so bad.“ San put on his pout at your negative remarks, approaching you, he stood behind you, looking at you in the mirror.

„Baby, I can't explain how much it hurts me to hear you thinking this way of yourself. You're absolutely gorgeous Y/N, darling, it's not any belly fat, and even if it was, it doesn't matter, it's your cute little baby bump. That's our baby that's showing and you shouldn't talk so negative about it.“ Kissing your temple and shoulders, he dropped on his knees, hands falling onto your bump, caressing it and letting his lips brush against your skin, giving it small pecks full of love. „Please Y/N, I'll do anything I can if it helps you overcome your insecurities. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever laid my eyes on. You're also the woman that carries my child, and you have my full respect for that. And this cute little baby bump makes you even prettier honey. Now, should I make you some snacks? You need to eat meals with a lot of nutrients so you and our baby can be healthy.“ Smiling at his heart-warming words, you took his hand that tugged you out of the room, taken aback by how did you deserve a man like this.

⩥ 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢

„Mhm Y/N... I'm so exhausted“ your husband Mingi whined, coming out of the shower after working out. „Do you wanna watch a movie? Come on, lay yourself on me and relax, Mingi. There won't be as many opportunities to do this from now on, so lay down.“ Nodding the tall figure of your husband approached you, sitting down on the couch, you spread your legs to create a space for him to lay in, before turning on the TV with your favourite series playing. As Mingi was about to lay his head on your lower belly, he noticed the slight change in its size. Lifting your t-shirt he saw how your lower belly rounded.

„Oh my god- Y/N! Why didn't you tell me your baby bump was showing omo! Y/N Y/N, that's my baby!“ chuckling at his excitement over your belly rounding, you agreed to his words. „Yes, Mingi, that's your baby. Now lay down please, so we can watch the series.“ Brushing your fingers through his brown locks, you tried to softly push his head to lay in your lap. „I don't want to Y/N. You lay in my lap, I don't want to lay on your belly, what if I hurt the baby? Oh my, that would be horrible, I'm sure that since the baby is growing already, it would feel suffocated by my head laying on your baby bump.“ Raising your eyebrows at his gibberish, trying to hold back the laughter at his cute dumbness. „Mingi, please, respectfully shut the fuck up and lay on my lap, you don't want to anger a pregnant woman by not agreeing with her. You won't hurt the baby, so lay down.“ Putting on his 'scared puppy' expression, he listened to you, laying carefully on your belly, your fingers playing with his soft hair, making ponytails and braiding them as you two watched the series.

⩥ 𝐉𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠

Clipping your fancy earrings and necklace set, you finished adorning your look with accessories. Looking at your figure in the tight-fitting velvet dress, that perfectly fitted the occasion of Wooyoung's business gala. Your eyes dropping at the baby bump that was getting more visible as the weeks of your pregnancy went on, especially in this dreses. But maybe it was just your detailed eye since no one appeared to notice, not even your husband.

Walking down the stairs to the living room where your husband Wooyoung was, already dressed in a well-fitting tuxedo. Playing some games on his phone while waiting for you to finish dressing and stuff. „Woo, I'm done.“ He turned around to look at you, his eyes widening at the ethereal beauty. „Waau, baby, that dress is breath-taking, absolutely worth the money. You're gorgeous, you look like an absolute goddess. Can you turn around?“ Turning around on your heels, showing off yourself in all angles for him to see, his cheerful clapping, like he was your number-one fan, let you gain confidence in yourself. „I don't remember marrying a model, but you for sure look like one.“ coming closer to you his arms wrapped around your frame, one hand falling onto your lower stomach. Leaning closer to you, Wooyoung whispered into your ear: „Especially with that baby bump, you look so cute, it adds to your beauty.“

„I didn't know you noticed...“ Wooyoung pouted at your words because he didn't know that was what you thought of him. „Of course I noticed, what do you take me for?... I just didn't want to mention it, because I didn't know how you felt about that and didn't want to make you insecure by mentioning your baby bump growing, but I just couldn't help myself, it looks too cute on you.“

⩥ 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐢 𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨

Work tired the heck out of you and Jongho couldn't watch your soulless state full of stress anymore. So his surprising gift for you in a form of a wellness trip was very appreciated. Having a week to spend to focus on yourself, your husband and the little bundle of joy in your womb, was the best thing he could give you. So as you two packed your belongings, and Jongho drove you two to the wellness hotel you could finally breathe out.

„Come on Y/N, let's take our luggage to the hotel room and then dive straight into a hot tub, I feel like my muscles are as stiff as rock.“ taking the luggage out of your hand, Jongho took them to your hotel room, your body fell on the soft mattress of your king-sized bed. „Get up, princess, we gotta go swimming and then we can go to a hot tub. Light exercise is important for a pregnant woman and her baby.“ groaning, you took the swimsuit Jongho threw at you and went to the bathroom to change, putting some dress onto it so you're not bare when you walk through the hotel.

Taking a deep breath after the hour of swimming, you thought you'd collapse from how exhausting it was. „Jongho I'm gonna kill you, you told me that we were gonna rest the whole week.“

„But exercising is resting as well. Okay then, if you're so exhausted, you can be glad that you have such a caring and strong husband, who has no problem with carrying you to the hot tub.“ Glaring at him, you could sense that he was just teasing you with his words. You yelped as he suddenly picked you up, carrying you bridal style, before getting into the hot tub with you still in his hands.

As he sat down with you still in his hands, you wrapped your arms around his neck, nuzzling yourself into his chest. Not aware of his eyes glaring and examining your stomach. „Baby.“ raising your eyebrows at him, thinking he wanted to tell you something, since baby was one of the many nicknames he had for you. „Baby. There's a baby in you. I can see it, oh my- Can I touch it?“

i couldn't find Mingi's gif from this set, i'm gonna cry

[iwannawritelots]

Watch You Sleep

Originally written May 2022

Ship(s): Belphegor X MC

(they/them)

(not requested)

Trigger/content warnings: chapter 16 spoilers, depictions of murder

Headcanons/notes from the author: inspired a bit by the included song

Brief Blurb: Belphegor reflects on his murderous intent towards MC and conflicting feelings.

Belphegor didn’t mean to let you fall asleep in the attic. It was something he avoided at all costs, especially since he needed you to free him before he could give into the temptation to sink his claws into your throat. Something Lucifer loved to tell you was that demons couldn’t resist temptation… it was only half true. It could be resisted, but it was excruciatingly difficult. Staring at you, listening to you breathe… it irked him.

The second time it happened, he could barely handle the itch to dig his nails into your neck, or beat your head into a messy pulp of red. The urge was making him so frustrated with himself. If he killed you before you freed him, then that would defeat the purpose of keeping you alive this long! Yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your face… calm… as if he didn’t want to tear you limb from limb.

It became a habit of yours, curling up against his thigh and falling asleep. He attempted to keep you awake so many times, but you ignored him. Lucifer trusted you to be in bed. Why would you want to sleep in here with him anyways? Humans are stupid.

Still, every time he watched your peaceful features, he felt a little less angry. He ignored it at first, assuming it was because his sin was so closely associated with slumber. Of course he would find it endearing when you snuggled closer to him, or mumbled incoherently in a sleepy voice… but it wasn’t just the sleep. The fact that you were keeping him company, telling him about his family’s antics, even wanting to be close to him… that was the truth. He was starting to like you. He was falling in love with you.

So how did he end up here, with his fingers tearing into your throat, and watching your once peaceful face contort through pain and fear…?

When you went cold in his hands, he felt his whole world stop. What had he done? Wasn’t this supposed to show Lucifer how awful he was? A moment ago, all he could see was red. All he wanted was to kill your beauty. How dare you be so wonderful when humans are the bane of his existence!

“Belphie?”

Belphegor jumped, unexpectedly snapped from his thoughts by Lucifer’s voice. “Oh…” He tore his gaze away from your sleeping form and took his hands out of your hair. “Sorry.”

“I’m surprised they sleep in your lap like that.” Lucifer sighed and shook his head. “You can’t hurt them since you have a pact anyway, so I don’t care what you do.” He sat down on the couch next to the both of you, watching Belphegor’s face. “What are you thinking about?”

Belphegor unsurely began to pet your hair again. “When _____ would visit me in the attic.” Lucifer said nothing, which Belphegor took as a clue to continue. “They would come to the attic often, and sometimes they came just to sleep. I don’t know why. I guess they… trusted me…” his voice began to shake. “I didn’t even realize it then, but they trusted me.”

“It seems like they still do.”

Weakly, Belphegor mumbled, “Humans really are stupid…” He watched your face, blinking out tears as he brushed a few stray hairs from your eyes. “I still haven’t properly said anything to them because I know I’ll cry… and they shouldn’t be comforting me, which they’ll do, because they’re a stupid nice human.”

“Well…” Lucifer glanced at you, then Belphegor, then settled his gaze towards his lap. “Stupid nice humans need to hear these things.” He stood, then patted Belphegor’s head. “Especially since they seem to really care about you.”

Fixing his gaze on your face once more, Belphegor nodded. “Yeah…”

Once Lucifer left the two of you alone, Belphegor gently blew on your face to wake you up. A small groan escaped you, and you rubbed your eyes. “Hi Belphie.”

“Hey, beautiful.” He chuckled and rubbed your cheek with his thumb. “Sleep well?”

“I always sleep well with you, Belphie.” You sat up, then leaned on his shoulder. “Why were you crying?”

“H-Huh?”

You poked his cheek. “I can tell you were crying. Did something happen?”

“I… I mean, not really?” Belphegor sighed and wiped his face. “I just kept thinking about stuff.”

“What stuff?”

“Um…” he fumbled with your hand, wanting to tell you but afraid to. “I was thinking about when you fell asleep in the attic all the time.”

“Oh…” You snuggled closer into him. “Why were you thinking about that?”

“‘Cause you were sleeping on me again, dummy…” he made a weak chuckle. “I just… I wish you hated me, sometimes.”

You frowned. “That’s a bit difficult to do.”

“Why would you not hate me? I literally killed you.”

“I know I should hate you,” you stated plainly. “I just don’t. I’ve tried.”

“I don’t understand you.” Belphegor felt tears roll down his cheeks and sighed frustratedly. “I tried avoiding you, but you still came around to spend time with me. You still sleep in my lap or next to me. You still hug me and nap with me…”

“I love you, Belphie,” you blurted. “Is it not obvious?”

Eyebrows furrowed, Belphegor gazed at you in bewilderment. “You… what?”

“I love you,” you repeated. “I’ve loved you for a while.”

It was quiet for a moment. You thought maybe he was attempting to figure out how to say he didn’t return your feelings, which would make sense. He did try to kill you after all… no, he did kill you. “Are you messing with me?”

“Of course not.”

Still fumbling with your hand, he mumbled, “I love you, too. Fuck, I loved you when I killed you. I’m so evil.” He didn’t dare look at you, afraid of your response. “What do I do?”

“Well… I want to kiss you.”

“I… want to kiss you, too.”

[mypoisonedvine]

Consolation || Bucky Barnes x reader

summary: you know it’s probably not great that you always turn to your best friend Bucky whenever you’re especially hurt by your husband.  you know your husband should probably care that you spend so much time with him, but he doesn’t.  which is good, in the end, because you two really are just friends… until you’re not.

word count: 4k

warnings: smut!, infidelity (see summary, reader is married), descriptions of failing/sexless marriage, angst, fluff, ~feelings~

You were good at hiding it— the real reason why you showed up at Bucky's apartment unexpectedly, that is.  

It wasn’t entirely unexpected: you sent a text first, asking if he was down for a movie night, telling him you missed when you used to hang out more.  He did, too, but he had always been afraid your husband would be an issue.  Nice enough guy, but he didn’t seem to trust Bucky entirely… certainly didn’t seem to love that you two were so close.

And who could blame him?  A beautiful, sweet, smart girl like you… he understood why your husband didn’t want you hanging out with other guys when avoidable.  I’ve told him a thousand times, you’re just a friend— you’re just Bucky, you would tell him when you were recounting arguments, explaining why it had been a while since you two had had a chance to catch up.  But Bucky never told you that your husband was right to worry, that he had dreamed since he met you of being more than ‘just a friend,’ that he himself was the reason you two didn’t spend more time together: because he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from confessing his feelings.

Because of course he would never make a move on his best friend— on a married woman.  It would be so overwhelmingly inappropriate, such a colossal waste of time; and it wasn’t like he couldn’t handle just being your friend.  Sure, it killed him a little bit sometimes, but it was worth it a million times over to be near you at all.  He would take what he could get… and if that meant platonic movie night because you’d had another argument with your husband, then so be it.

“I stopped by the store on my way; heard your ice cream reserve was depleted,” you explained as you brandished the Ben & Jerry’s before slipping past him to put them in his freezer.  

He watched you walk there, silently hating how comfortable you were in his apartment.  He loved it, but he hated it, too.  

“What are we watching?” you asked, snapping him back to reality.

“Uh, I dunno…”

“You were supposed to pick while I was driving over, genius,” you grumbled sarcastically.

“I narrowed it down to The Ring or You’ve Got Mail,” he decided suddenly.

You chuckled lightly and the sound lifted his spirits. “Okay, so, two drastically different evenings."

“I mean, if you think about it, they’re both about meeting new people through technology,” he corrected.

“Do VHS tapes count as technology?” you raised an eyebrow incredulously.

“They do to me,” he shrugged.

//

With the ice cream supply exhausted and Bucky’s largest plastic bowl now containing only the unpopped kernels and little broken pieces of popcorn that didn’t make the cut, the third act of The Ring was beginning and you were spending more time covering your eyes than not.

“Let me know when the scary part is over,” you requested weakly from between the hands on your face.

“It’s a horror movie; the whole thing is one long scary part!” he laughed.

You peeked out through your fingers only to see another terrifying moment, yelping and hiding yourself in his chest.

He froze, not sure at all what to do with your face pressed against him; he held his breath in case the inflation of his chest would disturb you.  

“I can’t look!” you whimpered, voice muffled by his shirt.

He lifted his hand in consideration of stroking your hair comfortingly, but ultimately decided against it and set it back down.

Thankfully, the movie was almost over and you wouldn’t stay cuddled up to him after it ended— meaning he’d finally be free from the glorious torture of your nearness.

But then the credits were rolling and you still didn’t budge, holding him tight.  At first he thought you were just still scared, but then you took a slow, shaky breath… and he realized something was wrong with you, way beyond just a spooky movie.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly, preparing to hear you explain what really happened with you and your husband that made you come here.

You just shook your head a little against his chest, making him sigh.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he continued, and you hesitated before pulling back and sitting up straight again.  As painful as it had been, he missed your touch already.

“Yes,” you answered, “but I shouldn’t.”

“Okay,” he nodded.

“But I need to.”

“Okay.”

“But I can’t.”

“...okay…”

You groaned and hid your face in your hands— not from fear this time, but exasperation.  “I told myself that if it ever got to this point, I’d tell someone.  But now I… I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” he soothed.

"He doesn't… we don't…” you started and stopped a few times.  “God, Buck, I can't even say it…"

"You don't have to—" he began to tell you, but you said it anyway, tearing your hands away from your face and looking back at him sternly.

"He hasn't touched me in months.  And today marks an entire year since the last time I had sex."

He tried not to choke when he heard that.  He figured you were just going to say that he was texting a female coworker too much or flip-flopping about if he wanted kids or not.  This was something else entirely.  "Oh… um, wow."

“Yeah.”

He wasn’t sure where to start.  In spite of all his obliviousness, he was pretty sure he should say something, he just didn’t know what.  “And he… he knows that you… want that?  I mean, you’ve like… tried to, you know… initiate things, right?”  He cringed at his own voice, and stupid question.

You laughed a little, in a sad way.  "I've begged him for it, fuck, it's so humiliating.  It doesn't even work.  He's always too tired, not in the mood, busy with something.  And of course I want to respect him and not pressure him into anything but at the same time, I feel so fucking unlovable— so hideous."

"You're not hideous,” he said firmly, more sure of that than anything else he’d said so far.

“I try to believe that, really,” you mitigated, “I try not to take it personally— but fuck, it feels personal.  Do you know how often people talk about sex?  It’s like society has this idea that men just wanna bang twenty-four hours a day and the only thing stopping them is women being prudes.  Do you know what it’s like to hear people talk like that when your husband rejects you every night?  Do you know how it feels to hear your girlfriends complaining about how their boyfriends are pestering them for sex too often, and you’re just sitting there screaming inside your head ‘at least he wants you’?  Bucky, you can’t even imagine…”

“I can’t,” he agreed.  

"It's been so long…” you sighed shakily, collecting yourself before you started again.  “It's been so long since somebody touched me.  I wondered if I would forget what it felt like."

His hand shook a little as he reached out with his flesh hand and brushed it against your arm, staring into your watery eyes and finding less fear there than he expected, thankfully.

"Did you forget?" he asked softly.

"I must have," you mumbled, "it feels better than I remembered."

The heartbreak in your voice made anger bubble up in his chest, amazed at how your husband ever allowed this to happen; ever allowed you to become so touch-starved that even just a brush on your arm made you emotional.  "I can't imagine being with you every day and not wanting to touch you whenever I could get the chance,” he admitted.  “I can't imagine being your husband and not making love to you every day, every hour, whenever you wanted; whenever you'd let me.  I can't imagine having you beg me for something and not giving it to you— I'd give you everything."

He had to fight a gasp as you suddenly grabbed him and pulled him into a kiss, a bit sudden at first but melting into something gentle and patient and soft.  

“Then do it,” you whispered as you finally pulled back; he could barely think straight to even process what you were saying.  “Give me everything.”

He nodded a little before he kissed you again, rough but deep and slow.  His hands roamed your body like he'd wished to for so long; his tongue slid against yours and the taste of you drove him wild.

As hard as it was to break from your lips, he moved his kisses down your jaw to your neck, sucking at your pulse as you groaned and clutched at his shoulders through his shirt.

"Fuck," you whispered under your breath, and he must've heard you swear a million times but this time it sounded so different.  

His cock was straining against his jeans already, just from this— it was like he was a fucking teenager again, but to be fair, you'd always had that effect on him: sweaty palms, stammering, sudden boners.  It was like lifelong puberty with you around.

When his fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt, just barely brushing over the skin right above your sweats, you pulled back briefly to pull your shirt off over your head.  He thought it might be awkward if he just stood there gawking at your chest, so he only allowed himself a moment of it before he got back to work holding you tight and kissing your collarbones.

He pulled you closer and you must've felt his cock pressed against you because you gasped a little.  And you must've liked it, because your hand slipped down and rubbed him through the front of his jeans, making him choke on nothing.

“S’big,” you mumbled, and he grinned a little.  

“Feel what you do to me?” he asked softly, and you nodded a little before grabbing his wrist and pulling his hand down your body and into the waistband of your pants.  He shuddered when he felt how warm your skin was, the lacy fabric of your panties, the slick folds you guided his fingers through.

“Feel what you do to me?” you shot back, but your cockiness faded when he circled his middle finger over your swollen bud.  He loved the way your body reacted so easily, subtle little gasps and shivers, your hips jolting forward for more stimulation.  You both moaned when he pushed a finger into your channel, your walls already pulsing around him.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

You whispered your approval and he twisted the finger inside you.  Even just that made you let out a heavy breath, your hands reaching down to grip his wrist— they didn’t push him away, thankfully, just reminded him to be gentle with you as he added the second finger, pushing a bit deeper than before.

“More,” you whimpered your plea, “I want more.”

For a second he thought you meant more fingers, but then you opened your eyes and gave him a look… that look.  

It made it abundantly clear that fingers weren’t going to be enough.  After all, you had asked him to give you everything.  So he gladly obliged when you started to tug at his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside.  You lifted your hips to let him pull down your sweats, not giving him much time to drink in the sight of you before you started opening his fly for him.

Being undressed by you made his heart race; the way you rushed, like you couldn’t wait a moment longer to have him, was flattering yet relatable.

You sighed when you got his cock out, instantly wrapping your hand around his shaft and stroking.  He shuddered at the softness of your hands, at your gentle but persistent exploration.  Clearly it had been a while since you’d gotten the chance to interact with a dick, but it didn’t show in any lack of skill— if anything it just made you more eager, your grip firm but your touches gentle.  He kissed you again, holding your face in one hand and leaning you back with the other until you were laid on the couch and he was hovering over you.

He guided your hand away from his cock, replacing it with his own as he guided the weeping head over your slick folds, smiling at your gasp when he bumped against your clit.

“Do you want this?” he asked, fully prepared for you to back out now before you did something you really couldn’t take back.

“Yes.”  Your answer was more confident than he was expecting, but he still couldn’t really believe it.  It was just too good to be true.  So he had to check again.

“...are you sure?”

"Don't make me beg, Bucky," you whimpered, "I've done it enough, I can't do it again.  Just make love to me— I need you inside me, please…"

Your head fell back as he pushed into you, your nails digging into his shoulders until he stopped from fear of hurting you (even though it took more willpower than he knew he had).

"Don't stop," you whined, "need to feel all of you, Bucky, please please don't stop—"

He definitely didn't have enough willpower to resist that.  Slamming into you all at once, he hissed as you cried out, baring his teeth at the sight of you quivering and moaning beneath him.

"I— I need a second," you explained, voice tight with ill-concealed pain, "it's been a while.”

"I can wait," he nodded, "I won't move until you're ready."

He could tell you were struggling, because how could you not be when you felt so fucking tight around him?  He guided you to breathe slowly with him, feeling your body relax slightly and noticing the way your face untwisted as you became more comfortable.

You nodded a little, but he needed to hear you say it.  "Fuck me," you whispered.

And he did.  

He still kept his pace measured and relaxed, savoring every inch of you— savoring your reactions to every inch of him.

But watching your face was going to push him towards the edge too fast, and he wanted to make this last if possible, so he leaned down to suck on your neck, thoroughly tasting your skin as you moaned and writhed beneath him.  It felt incredible to surround your body with his, to cage you in and pin you down with his weight— it made him feel like he could protect you, keep you safe, even though he knew he couldn’t save you from heartache as much as he wanted to.

If you wanted someone to touch you, to give you affection, to make love to you and make you feel loved, then you’d come to the right place.  That came to him naturally; the hard part was going to be letting you go, letting this be the one-time favor for a friend that he already knew it was.

“You feel so good,” he found himself whispering against your skin, just beside your ear, “so good for me.”

The praise must have had a strong effect on you, because your walls tightened around him suddenly.

“So perfect,” he continued, wanting to feel it again, “my perfect girl.”  And you weren’t his girl, but maybe he could pretend you were; you certainly seemed to enjoy pretending, with the way your moans egged him on.  “God, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good around my cock.”

“Bucky,” you whined, arching your back, and he grinned because it was obvious that you responded even better to dirty talk than praise.

“You like that, huh?  You like makin’ me feel good?” he pressed, laughing a little when you nodded feverishly.  “Fuck, such a good girl… takin’ me so good, so fuckin’ deep…”

You grabbed him by his hair to make him kiss you again, hungry lips smashing against his.

Inspired by your passion but afraid of what he’d do with all of this control, he wrapped his arms around you and hoisted you up until he was sitting while you straddled him, looking up at you with a grin.  "Ride me, pretty girl, show me how bad you want it," he instructed lowly.  The way you rocked your hips and threw your head back was everything he'd dreamed it would be, increased exponentially.  Of course, he'd never told anyone that he dreamed about that, but he'd also never thought it could ever come true.  He ran his hands over every part of you he could reach, just to make sure it was real; just to make sure he memorized the feel of you while he could.

He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around a hardened nipple, sucking gently and smirking a little when you moaned loudly.  “You’re sensitive here,” he noted aloud, kissing his way to the other nipple but still teasing the first with his metal fingers.

Your moans came faster and louder, your fingers combing through his hair and pulling seemingly unintentionally.  He noticed that you let your eyes fall shut, your head crane back, and although he was glad that it was a sign of pleasure, he wanted to see you; he wanted you to see him, know that it was him making you feel this way.  so, he reached up and cupped your face in his hand, cradling your cheek, pulling you closer to look at him, staring into your eyes— and he knew it wasn't a subtle move, wasn't believable as a guy just helping out a friend, but he didn't care anymore.  When he kissed you again, it almost felt like you meant it, too; like you wanted him first, and not just as a consolation prize.

But you pulled back a little too soon, a reminder to both of you that this couldn’t be anything more than what it was.

Your hips gyrated faster and more vigorously, his hands gripping you tight and guiding your movements while you sighed and bit your lip.  You looked so indescribably good when you were immersed in pleasure like this, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly for balance, your chest swelling and deflating with quick breaths.

“So fucking beautiful,” he whispered below his breath as his hand softly trailed from your collarbone down to your thigh.  The sounds you made were constantly changing, a little more high-pitched and needy now as you rode him faster.  He was already picking up on the little signs that you were getting closer: your thighs flexing where they were straddled beside his own, how your body jolted and shivered in his grasp, your eyes wrenched shut and your skin breaking out into goosebumps.

Already he knew your body so well, but he knew there was so much more he would never get the chance to discover.  For now, he’d just have to settle for a preview of all the perfect little ways you fell apart.

And, in the interest of speeding that process up a bit, he reached down to where your bodies were joined and circled a thumb over your clit.

“Fuck!” you yelped, your inner muscles bearing down on him out of nowhere until he was forced to groan from your tightness.

“You close?” he stammered out, way less confident than he meant it to be.  He should’ve said something cool like ‘I know you’re close’ or ‘aw, baby, does that feel good?’ but no, he was too far gone and gave his own desperation away.

"Yes, baby, I'm so close," you sighed, "I'm gonna come— you're gonna make me come."

You said it with a hint of shock in your voice, like you could barely believe it.  He couldn't believe it, either, because it was surely too good to be true.

"Come for me," he instructed firmly, pulling you closer until his nose brushed against yours, "say my name when I make you come."

It was unfair, but he needed to pretend you were his for just a moment.  Only his.

"Bucky," you whimpered shakily.  Your walls tightened around him so perfectly, over and over, until it took everything in him not to bust right then.  "Bucky, I'm coming, fuck, I'm coming—"

"I know," he whispered, "I know, pretty girl, keep going."

Your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even notice the pain when he was watching your face as you came— it was tight and twisted at first, before falling into a gasp and a moan that made his heart swell along with his cock that painted your walls the absolute second he knew you’d come.  It was intense, not just from holding back for so long, but from knowing he was coming inside you.

He sighed and started to catch his breath as you slumped forward and buried your face in the crook of his neck.  His arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer, the warmth of your body nearly overwhelming now as he felt little aftershocks ripple through your channel around where he was still within you.

"Thank you," you whispered, so quiet he could barely hear it.  But he did, and he nodded a little as he rested his face against yours, stroking your hair gently.  You held each other in silence for a long time, so long that when your breathing slowed down significantly and he could feel your body relax entirely, he realized you had fallen asleep.  

Carefully, he held you tighter so he could stand up and carry you to his bedroom, your body instinctively wrapping around him like a koala… like even in your sleep, you could act all adorable and break his heart just that much more.  

He did his best to tread quietly and gently, laying you down onto the bed and only then pulling his softened cock out of you, finding his discarded boxers to put back on before joining you between the sheets.  

He knew you would be gone in the morning but he indulged himself in holding you tonight, breathing your scent and pressing your back against his chest.  He didn't want to fall asleep because he didn't want to miss a second of your body wrapped in his, but it was impossible not to with the soft pace of your breathing almost rocking him to sleep like a beautiful lullaby.

Where there was warmth and peace before, he awoke to cold and emptiness— both between his sheets and in himself.

It’s not like he really expected you to stay, and even if you had it wouldn’t mean that you would leave your husband for your best friend, that this would have ever been anything more than a glimpse of what could’ve been in another life or another universe.

He could still smell you, barely, and he buried his face in the sheets to take it all in before it faded away.  When it was gone, he pulled back only to find a wet patch of his tears there instead.

[ifmywishescametrue]

Choosing which prompt to send you from list was an impossible task!! They’re just all that good🥺 but if u feel inspired, maybe 15 or 76 would be really cute for stevetony?

Also, hope you have the best and loveliest day, friend 💖💝

thank you for sending one!! for #76 - "thank you for making me smile" - here's 1.6k words of getting together and absolutely terrible jokes

also i hope you have the loveliest day too 🥺

"I'm never listening to your advice again," Steve says the second he walks in the door. He lets it slam shut behind him and stomps off to his bedroom with another rough bang.

Tony and Bucky exchange a look on the couch, and Tony pauses their video game.

"Me or you?"

"Probably you," Bucky says. "Your advice is usually shit."

Tony scoffs, "Please, I'm a genius for a reason. All of my advice is amazing. Or are you forgetting that I'm the reason that you have a boyfriend right now?"

"One time in the last three years and you won't let it go."

"It'd be you and your right hand for the rest of your life if it wasn't for me."

Bucky rolls his eyes, "I would have made it work with Sam on my own eventually. But that's besides the point. I haven't given Steve any advice lately, so it has to be you. And in case you forgot, I don't even live here. He didn't know I was here when he said it."

"You don't live here?" Tony says with mock surprise. "Wow, you eat an awful lot of our food then."

Bucky grins, "It's payback for all the times you did the same to me before I moved out. Now go fix Steve. We'll rematch tomorrow."

"I didn't break him," Tony argues, even as he sets his controller down and stands from the couch. "I am a beacon of wisdom."

"You started a fire in the microwave twice last week, beacon."

Tony flips him off on his way to Steve's bedroom. He knocks once and ignores it when Steve tells him to go away.

Steve is sitting at his desk with his back to the door and his sketchbook open in front of him. He has a pencil in his hand, but the page is untouched.

"So, uh, what's up with you?"

"Nothing."

Tony nods slowly, "Right, okay. Care to share what advice of mine went wrong exactly? Cause I gotta say I'm drawing a blank."

"I was talking to Buck."

"Oh," Tony says in relief, then he frowns. "How'd you even know he was here?"

"When isn't he here? Our fridge is always empty because of him."

Tony smiles and flops down on Steve's bed, propping himself up against the pillows with his arms folded behind his head. He pushes the back of Steve's chair with his foot, making it spin his way.

"So what did Bucky do?"

Steve looks like he's about to say, but then he bites his lip and shakes his head instead. "Really doesn't matter."

Tony looks at him for a long moment, taking in all those subtle tells of his. The slight downturn of the corners of his mouth and the crease between his brows, but they don't come with any tension in his jaw or shoulders, which means he's more disappointed than angry. His eyes never hide hurt, but there's none to be found in them. Whatever it was didn't crush him, and Tony knows just how to fix him when he's like this.

He pokes Steve's arm with his socked toes. "Hey, Steve, why did the golfer bring two pairs of pants?"

Steve sighs, but there's already a hint of a smile. Further evidence to support Tony's hypothesis.

"Why, Tony?"

"In case he got a hole in one."

Steve presses his lips together and shakes his head. "That's not very funny."

"Why do bees have sticky hair?"

The look Steve gives him is long-suffering.

"Because they use honeycombs," Tony grins, and Steve relaxes back into his chair a little. "What kind of music do planets like?"

"Neptunes," Steve says, smirking a little, and Tony pouts dramatically.

"Nooo, how did you know that?"

"Used it on me two months ago. Remember when you broke the sink and you didn't want me to be mad at you anymore?"

"I also remember fixing the sink in the same day, but fine dwell on the fact that I broke it in the first place."

Steve laughs, and Tony feels the knot in his own chest loosen. He hates it when Steve's upset. It throws him off his own axis, because his world revolves around Steve's sun.

He gets up from the desk chair, and Tony shifts over to make room for him on the bed. They reach for each other's hands at the same time, interlocking fingers in the small space between them.

It's moments like these when the longing hits him the most. When Steve is this close, but it doesn't mean nearly as much to him as it does to Tony.

Sometimes he pictures what it would be like if he leaned over a little more. If Steve's eyes would flicker down to his lips, then away quickly like he didn't want to be caught. He wonders what Steve's cheek would feel like under his hand as he pulls his attention back, silently telling him it's okay to look.

It always stops there in his mind, right before a first kiss that he just knows would change his life. Guilt creeps in, because he should be happy with what he has. Happy with all of the pieces Steve lets him have now. It's more than most people will ever get.

"Thank you," Steve says. "You're the only one who can ever get me to smile after a day like today."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Tony asks, tilting his head to the side to look at him.

Steve bites his lip again, staring up at the ceiling. It takes a long moment for him to talk.

"There's somebody that I like, but they don't like me back. Not like that, anyway."

Tony's heart sinks, but he tries not to let it show. "You told them and they rejected you?"

Steve shakes his head, "No, I don't need to tell them to know how they feel. But Bucky said that I should find someone else to get over them, so I asked out that girl in my art history class."

"The one with the nose ring?"

"That's the one, yeah. We went for coffee this morning."

"How was it?" Tony asks, and more guilt accompanies the fact that he's actively and selfishly hoping Steve is about to say that it was awful.

Steve shrugs, "It was fine, technically. But then she tried to kiss me, and I sort of freaked out and ruined it. She looked at me like I was insane, and, god, it was so embarrassing, but I just couldn't do it when I know that I don't actually want anything like that from her. I didn't want to lead her on. It's not fair to her."

"Not fair to you either," Tony says softly. "You shouldn't force yourself to like someone you don't. And whoever the other person is, the one that doesn't want you back, they're missing out on someone really amazing, and they're stupid to let you go."

Steve smiles, but it's tinged with sadness as he turns his head to look at Tony. "I don't know about that. They can do better than me."

"Hey, no, don't say that. You're incredible. You're funny and smart and gorgeous, and I've never met anyone as kind as you in my entire life. There isn't anyone better than you, okay? And if they don't see that, then fuck them. Clearly, they're dumb as hell anyway," Tony rants, getting progressively louder as he goes and his free hand gesturing wildly.

"They're kind of a genius, actually."

Tony rolls his eyes, "Yeah, sure they are. Way to miss the point."

Steve's smile turns amused. "No, but they really are."

"What is this?" Tony asks with narrow eyes. "Are you trying to make me jealous by saying you know other geniuses? Cause I'm the only know-it-all in your life. I claimed the spot. It's mine."

"Definitely yours," Steve agrees, and he shifts a little to turn on his side. With his left hand, he tentatively reaches up towards Tony's face, and Tony's breath catches at the brush of fingertips against his cheek. "I think I might have been wrong, though, about how they feel about me."

It takes a few seconds for it to click in Tony's, but even when it does he doesn't believe it just yet.

"Why's that?"

"Apparently they think I'm incredible, and they get really angry when anybody else thinks otherwise."

Tony smiles softly, "Yeah, they really don't like that."

Steve's thumb strokes across his cheekbone, then his fingers drift back to run through his hair.

"They think I'm funny, too, but they've also got a terrible sense of humor, so I don't know how accurate that is."

Tony laughs, then says, "You know what I think?"

"What's that?"

"I think you should kiss them. Just go for it and see what happens."

Steve smiles, slowly leaning down, "You really think so? It could make things weird. We might not be able to be friends anymore."

Tony puts his hand on the nape of Steve's neck, drawing him further in until he's a scant inch away. "Trust me, they don't really want to be just a friend, anyway."

He finds out that Steve's skin is smooth and warm beneath his palms, and his lips are unexpectedly soft. His hands are constantly in motion, slowly mapping out Tony's hips and sides and back like he's memorizing the feeling. As if it's his one chance to learn what Tony feels like he won't let it get away from him. But it won't be the only one. There will be second, third, and hundredth kisses, because Tony knows better than to let someone like Steve slip away.

"Hey, Tony?" Steve whispers after.

"Yeah?"

"What's the best thing about Switzerland?"

Tony smiles, "What?"

"I don't know, but the flag is a big plus."

They stare at each other, and Steve is the first to crack, but his laugh makes Tony follow right behind him.

[quirklessthot]

kinktober: day 3 | nudes [dabi]

warnings: 18+

word count: 1.1k

a/n still going strong with day three! (p.s. you canNOT tell me dabi wouldn't pull this shit)

⤿ kinktober masterlist

You’re sleeping peacefully in your bed, dead to the world, until the loud ping of your phone receiving a message wakes you. Groggily, you crack open your eyes and feel around blindly for your phone. You bring it to your face and turn on the display, instantly regretting having the backlight on so high. After nearly getting blinded, you can make out the words on the screen.

[unknown]: u up?

The contact might be listed as ‘unknown’, but you know exactly who would wake you up with a text like this at 2 am. Your phone pings again.

[unknown]: its dabi

You know.

Heaving a tired sigh, you roll your eyes but answer anyway, thumb lazily tapping on your onscreen keyboard as you yawn and hug your pillow.

[You]: I am now. What do you want?

His reply is almost immediate.

[unknown]: my dick is so hard right now

Seriously? Could he be more of a fuckboy right now?

Apparently, he could, because his next message is a shaky picture of his hand wrapped around his hard dick. It’s a terrible quality photo if you’re being honest: the lightning is bad, there’s no finesse and most importantly, you didn’t ask for it. A 3/10, overall.

[You]: That’s rough, buddy. Goodnight.

The next few pings come in quick succession. Great, he’s double-texting.

[unknown]: babe

[unknown]: c’mon

[unknown]: dont b like that…

[unknown]: pls?

Your eyebrows raise almost to your hairline. You didn’t Dabi even knew the word ‘please’ existed. He must be really desperate.

[You]: Well I’m not sure what you want me to do about it? I don’t even know where you are…

The next message almost has you throwing your phone.

[unknown]: send me a pic of ur tits

“You’ve got to be shitting me…” you mumble into the quiet darkness of your room.

[You]: I’m not giving you nudes Dabi.

[unknown]: i gave u sum!

[You]: I didn’t ask for a picture of your dick!!

[unknown]: :(

Such a simple emoji shouldn’t fill you with so much remorse but a part of you knows how hard you find it telling Dabi ‘no’.

One picture and that’s all he’s getting.

You hike your shirt up to tuck it under your chin, nipples instantly pebbling under the cool night air. You angle your phone and snap a picture, making sure to keep your face firmly out of the frame. It’s a little dark – you’re too tired to get up and turn any lights on – and it’s not exactly the sexiest pic you’ve ever taken but he’ll have to make do.

Your thumb hovers over the send button before you take the leap and press it, wondering in the back of your mind just how much you’re going to regret this.

It takes a while for him to respond and you hate how antsy it’s making you. You’re on the metaphorical edge of your metaphorical seat as you wait. Does he like it? He’s the one begging for nudes at two in the morning, he’d better like it!

[unknown]: fuuuuuk babe

[unknown]: wish i was thr

[unknown]: hav u suck m e off

[unknown]: cover thse perfct fukin tits in my c um

That’s more typos than usual, and it’s probably not because of his usual laziness. You greatly suspect he’s multitasking.

The thought of Dabi pleasuring himself to a picture of you has warmth spreading through your body. You squeeze your thighs together as you type.

[You]: Yeah? What makes you think I’ll let you

[unknown]: u’ll let me

[unknown]: cuz ur my prefect lil cumslut

[unknown]: isnt that right ?

You mutter a curse under your breath as your hand finds its way between your thighs. Images of you gagging on Dabi’s cock flash in your mind, the most recent rendezvous – from about a week ago. You can almost feel the heavy weight of his girthy cock on your tongue. You subconsciously lick your lips as your hand speeds up.

Another message.

[unknown]: busy?

You can almost feel the smugness radiating from that single word. Groaning, you ignore his taunt and put your phone down to continue rubbing yourself over your underwear, making sure to put most of your focus on your little clit.

Your phone pings again.

[unknown]: i kno ur touchin urself

[unknown]: u wet for me baby?

You whine and nod your head before remembering that he can’t actually see you.

[You]: Yeah, I think I soaked through my panties

[unknown]: hm not sure i believe u

The horny haze you’ve unexpectedly found yourself in has you thinking you need to send him proof and you reach over to flick on your bedside lamp, bathing the dark room in warm, artificial yellow light. Settling back down, you quickly snap another photo and send it to Dabi.

This one is focused between your spread thighs, underwear pulled taught over your mound and leaving little to the imagination. The sizeable dark patch is hard to miss.

[unknown]: fuck i wish i could call u right now so i can hear those cute little noises you make when u play with urself

[unknown]: guess I’ll have to make do with pics huh?

Taking the hint, you quickly roll down your underwear, discarding it somewhere onto the floor, and take a picture of your cunt, lips slick and shiny with your arousal.

As you wait for Dabi’s reply, your hand slowly slides between your thighs. A shiver runs through your body at the feeling of your slippery, heated skin under your fingertips. Focusing tight, slow circles over your clit, you begin rocking your hips, already lost in pleasure. Too impatient for anymore teasing, you slip two fingers inside, arching your back and gasping at the delicious stretch.

You alternate between fucking yourself on your fingers hard and fast and feverishly rubbing your clit, sometimes giving your pussy a firm, teasing spank – just the way Dabi likes to do when he’s knuckles deep in you. You’re so wet you’re beginning to make a mess but at this moment – right on the precipice of pure bliss, you don’t care.

It only takes a few strokes and you’re falling over the edge, entire body spasming as you cry out. When you fall back onto your pillow, you let out a deep, pleasured exhale, fully satiated.

The last photo you send is of two of your fingers inches away from your bare cunt, glossy with your slick - a few strands are connected from your soaked digits to your puffy, swollen lips. Seconds later you get one of Dabi, shirt pulled up and spent cock lying on his stomach, white traces of his cum all over his stomach and chest.

Still on cloud nine from your orgasm, you get up to clean yourself up. When you lie back down in your bed, you pick up your phone to shoot Dabi a quick text.

[You]: Ok, I have to admit that was fun but you’re going to delete those, right?

Read 2:27 am

[You]: Dabi?

Read 2:28 am

[You]: Dabi. That’s not funny…

Read 2:28 am

[You]: DABI!

[mystic-sky]

|✨Part 1✨| |✨Part 2 ✨| of the Friends with Benefits Series.

Your relationship with Suguru started off somewhat unexpectedly. A new semester romance, however it was unwanted after dealing with Satoru Gojo just last year. You tried not to blame yourself for the situation unraveling the way it did. You did your best to make Satoru comfortable with you- at least you thought you did.

He cut you off as soon as you made your feelings apparent. You wondered if he somehow did it for your own good, or maybe there was something deeper that went along with it. No matter, you remained optimistic. You were young, and bound to make mistakes. This was just a story to tell your children about in the future if you ever felt it was necessary.

But back to Suguru, who had wiggled his way into your life somehow. He wasn’t a random guy actually. More like a familiar face you’d seen in a few of your classes because you both were in the same major. Just so recently, he decided to talk to you.

You weren’t expecting to hit it off with him so easily. He was sort of scary looking, which led you not to engage with him in the first place. He never tried talking to you before 5 months ago. And neither did you, considering you thought he was so handsome he’d break your heart too somehow.

His arms were sleeved with tattoos that would bridge at his chest. The tattoos would sometimes peak out of his wide collared shirts if he chose to wear one that day. He had a thing for wearing these huge ear gauges that had his favorite anime on them. Though, you never noticed until you sat close enough to him to see the designs. It was a rainy day, and both of you ended up sitting beside each other in your sociology course in the back of the classroom. You were both late, having come in just after the other.

It was weird seeing him this close. He never did come late to any class you’d ever been in with him. Even if you wanted to sit with him, like Satoru, he never had any available seats beside him. He didn’t disturb you until the lecture ended, commenting on one of your anime themed mechanical pencils. That sparked your first conversation with him, and he wasn’t shy to ask you out for coffee right after.

He’s been keen on you since, and you just barely give him the time of day in the beginning. You were just cautious, after the whole Satoru situation. Suguru was fine with whatever you wanted the situation between you both to be. But you will admit, the conversations he’d keep you up with at night made it hard to not fall in love with him.

He’d take you out to dinner, study with you, and sleep with you from time to time since the sexual attraction between you was hard to deny. You think your favorite thing about messing around with Suguru was how he’d always pick your brain after sex with manga theories and better endings than the canonically debuted ones. He was a really good cook, and you often challenged him to make your favorite dishes. They were excuses to invite you over to his place, so he gladly took each one with merit. It was friends with benefits but with far much more substance to hold onto.

He never poked you about getting serious. Whatever you both had was still young at barely 5 months. He could tell you’d been going through something mostly because of how you sexed him. Sometimes you were the dominant one- you’d throw him on the bed and bounce yourself on his length until your knees were far too tired to go on. Other times, he’d steal the show from you, showing you just exactly what he was capable of.

He spread you onto the desk in his bedroom, face deep into your folds. He also loved to spoil you, like Satoru, but you did your best not to think of him when you both were together. Suguru had so much more hair to grab, considering his tongue work was so good it scared you.

“Be a good kitten and cum for me.” He said between sucks on your clit. You often couldn’t think, and that was a good thing. He numbed you in plenty of ways, he knew he had been helping you get over something. He had been doing the same thing but you could care less.

“Actually, I changed my mind.” He tore his mouth from your steaming sex, wiping his chin. You gasp as he lifts you up off the desk, holding your body without leaning against anything for support. You felt weightless, feeling his length prod at your entrance. You tried to hold back a giggle as he smiled smugly at you.

“You ready?” His eyes were sincere, asking for your consent again as he was aching to sink you onto himself.

You nod, feeling a bit nervous. “Stuff like this is about balance. Start flailing around again and I’ll drop you.” He teased. Your hands found some of his hair again, tugging on it a bit.

“Just fuck me.” You roll your eyes as he slams his length into you, making you cry out and clutch your arms around him. His large hands firmly grasp underneath your thighs, using the way your ass recoiled against his thighs to keep a steady rhythm. He’s immersed in the way your broken moans pour into his ear, fueling his stamina. He’s a stickler for teasing you the entire time, praising you for taking his length so well.

“Such a good kitten, you’re taking it so well.”

It was the third time he’d ever held you up to fuck you. After letting go of the fear of him dropping you it became incredibly easy to focus on the pleasure.

“You’re gonna cum aren’t you? Don’t worry about the carpet baby, make a mess for me.”

He knew how to mix things up the way you needed. On your rough days he’d sex you slowly, more passionately and generously. If you were happy and feeling frisky he’d fuck you accordingly. He was pretty good at reading your body just after the first few fucks you had. You hated comparing the two men, but it did happen from time to time when you were in solitude, plagued by your own self-deprecating thoughts every now and then.

It was weird how they emanated each other’s personalities in certain ways. And then you found out that they used to be good friends in high school until something happened. You never poked Suguru about it, since he’d seem to get irritated when you were around groups of friends and Satoru’s name was mentioned. You did your best to be satisfied with what you had. He was handsome, smart, and possibly wanted to be your boyfriend in due time.

But you couldn’t help but think about Satoru. Not only was your experience with him a wild one, but he was fucking everywhere. It’s always like this for you. It’s not until you’re trying to avoid someone do you begin seeing them absolutely everywhere.

You stared at Satoru over Suguru’s shoulder, poking your cheek with your tongue. The audacity he had, showing up in the cafe where you both first met while you and Suguru were on a routine study date. Well, it was a hotspot for a lot of students, so who are you to say he can’t come in here.

“I think I’m overworking myself today, we can go eat now.” Your mood change was evident to Suguru, but he couldn’t put his finger on why at first. He watched you get up and pack your things before shortly following.

As you tossed your bag over your shoulders, he took hold of one of your hands, squeezing firmly. He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze.

“Is it something I can cheer you up from when we get back to my place?” Suguru was a bit smug about it, and also painfully intuitive about your emotions even though you’d been close for such a short time. Your cheeks went red, eyes burning holes through the floor.

“It’s nothing, really. Let’s just get out of here.” You manage to look back at him, just barely glancing at Satoru who probably had been looking in this direction. Suguru pressed another kiss to your forehead, wrapping his arm around you and leading you out the cafe. He nearly touched shoulders with Satoru and his own dame, smirking just loudly enough for him to hear.

Suguru wasn’t dumb, finally having noticed your energy change just a few moments after Satoru Gojo entered the cafe. This was your favorite place, and he hated how someone could ever ruin that for you. He felt urged to do something about it- with or without your consent. He doesn’t poke you about it until you’re in the car.

“Random question, but do you know Satoru Gojo?”

The question like a pin in your spine, making you visibly un-slouch in the drivers seat. He doesn’t look at you, feeling that would make it easier for you to talk. You take this the wrong way, and feel even more tense.

“I do, we were a thing at one point.” You manage not to stutter. You had no idea why you felt scared or touchy about the subject- you shouldn’t be. His entire vibe had changed, and he didn’t have his usual grin peaking at the corners of his lips.

“Oh,” he says simply. The longest ten seconds of silence reign throughout the vehicle. You’re anxious to turn on the radio, anything to rid the first bit of awkwardness the two of you had ever shared.

“He’s an asshole, isn’t he?” He randomly chuckles heartily, somewhat calming you.

“Yeah,” you’re exhaling properly now, “he really is.”

“We were best friends for about four years. I know him like the back of my hand. Granted, he’s probably changed a lot since high school.”

“But you’re both so-

“Different?” He chuckled. “Yeah, I know.”

“If he was an asshole then, he’s multiplied tenfold.” You roll your eyes. “You both don’t talk anymore?”

You knew they didn’t, but you took the opportunity to ask anyway.

“Nah, he’s a slimy bastard. I hope karma turns him rotten.” You’d never seen Suguru scowl before. He must really hate him, you thought. Still, what a small world; first Satoru and now his ex best friend.

“You still talk to him?” He pokes again. His tone is just barely playful. God, you changed your mind. You didn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“No, we don’t talk anymore. It ended pretty badly.” You say simply. You also decided not tell Suguru that the both of you messed around just before you started messing with him.

“Sorry about that. If we were friends sooner I’d have told you about him.” Suguru is apologizing for something you weren’t entirely ignorant about in the first place. You knew what you were getting into.

Satoru never tried to convince you the situation was anything other than what it was— until the end. The sweet things he started saying to you during those final months often echoed in your head- like he meant all of it.

The sex developed into something that it shouldn’t have. Sex that passionate should be forbidden if you aren’t already in love. And the things he said to you the last time he dropped you off didn’t make it any better. You wanted to slap his stupid, pretty face.

“I’m over it now.”

Suguru pans his gaze to watch you nonchalantly staring out the window. He knew better than to ask anymore. He was more elated that you didn’t interact with him at all. He didn’t need Satoru painting a picture about him in your head before he could first.

What sucks the most about dating people you go to school with is how often you’d see them. Satoru was fucking everywhere. The local restaurants, the library, the cafe, and he’d registered for two of your classes this semester. He didn’t speak to you at all, but he was always just there. Perhaps he’d always been around but since you’d been involved with him you were more aware of his presence.

You were standing in line in the library, attempting to return some books. He entered the space, and walked up behind you, standing on the line and giving your space. You turn your body slightly, peering up at him. You thought to leave, but just because you resented him didn’t mean you were going to cower every time you had to be around him for a while. You let out a sigh as you tip toed to peer in front of yourself; at least the line was moving.

Both of you had made it to the front, talking to separate librarians beside one another. When they both got up from their seats to head towards the back, he spoke directly to you, without actually looking at you.

“(Name), word of advice— I’d steer clear of Getou Suguru if I were you.”

Anger poured over you; you did your best to keep your voice low and eyes forward when saying this.

“That’s the first thing you say to me after almost a year? Go fuck yourself.”

He bites back a witty response, poking his cheek with his tongue. “Whatever. Find out the hard way.”

“You’ve got a lot of nerve. Why the fuck are you telling me this?” You’re whisper-shouting, considering it’s a library.

“Because,” he turns to look at you, “I care about you.”

“What a load of shit.”

Satoru Gojo doesn’t care about anyone, you learned that the hard way.

He let out a sigh. He knew he had no right, but even if he couldn’t get you back, he wanted you to know what kind of guy you were seeing. He couldn’t say anything, he knew you wouldn’t listen. Not like this anyway. Both librarians returned, and gave you back your borrowing passes. You quickly departed, refusing to give Satoru another opportunity to speak to you. His words stuck with you on the way home. You didn’t have any reason to be afraid of Suguru, right?

Two months had passed since Satoru had “warned” you about Suguru. And nothing has happened to lead you to be cautious of him. Satoru hasn’t spoken to you either.

You’re sitting in the guidance counselor’s office as it’s the end of the semester once again. You typed away on your phone, telling Suguru you’d see him for dinner in a bit before throwing your head back and shutting your eyes. The heaviest sigh left your lungs, you were thankful the semester was nearing its end. You had quite enough of studying and needed to unwind.

You feel a presence on the end of your bench, making you open one eye. You see white tresses, and you catch the scent of familiar cologne.

Satoru doesn’t look at you, but he’s quite aware that he’s sitting beside you as well. You almost scoff, only crossing your arms and legs. Noticing the undone laces of your boots, you lean forward to tie it. Your loose bag on your shoulder which unfortunately wasn’t zipped, spilled small notebooks and pencils all over the floor. Spare change rolled across the walk way along with other items.

“Fuck...” you muttered. His head snapped towards you as you let out a sigh and bent down to pick up your things. Your phone that was your on your lap hit the ground as well. You saw his hand in the corner of your eye reaching down to help.

“I got it.” You say sternly, and shamelessly picking up your things. He retracts his hand, and instead gets up to pick up the items that were further away from you, ignoring your request not to help.

He sits back beside you, handful of change and pens. He holds it up towards you quietly while you attempt to fix your bag back to the way it was. You turn to look at him for what feels like the first time in forever, blue eyes pouring into your own (eye color) ones.

“I didn’t need you to do that.” You say, taking your things. You initially thought to take your things from him without a word. He went back to staring in front of himself, waiting to be called. You shifted uncomfortably, and fidgeted with your fingernails. You forced yourself into to pay attention to the soft music playing from the back of the office until he spoke.

“How have you been?”

For some odd reason though, you wanted him to say something to you. You had a lot of things to let off your chest considering the way things ended. You thought of giving him a piece of your mind right there in front of all the staff members, but you restrained yourself.

Instead, you found yourself saying “I’m doing great.”

“That’s good.” He says nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. He didn’t even sound sure of his own response. A few minutes of silence resumes after. You’re a bit startled when speaks again.

“I’m definitely out of line right now, but I’ve been wanting to talk to you about some things.”

“What could we possibly have to talk about?” A lot. You were bubbling over.

“There’s a lot of things, at least for me, that I’ve never really told you.” He’s looking at you now. “Can we talk somewhere quieter? Whenever you’ve got the free time, and only if you want to.”

He was offering closure to you a bit too late. Or maybe all this time you’d convinced yourself you’d moved on. You often found yourself replaying the morning he brought you home and all the things you should’ve said in that moment.

That’s not exactly moving on. Unfortunately, you also found yourself comparing him to Suguru more often then not. That’s not moving on either.

“Okay,” you said. “Later on today. Round 8pm.”

He looks thankful. Just as he spoke, your counselor called out to you to come into their office. You stand up, looking down at him.

“Cafe then?” He suggests.

“That’s fine. See you.” You shrugged. You didn’t care that much for the place. You heard him say goodbye as the door shut behind you.

You had half a mind to never speak to him ever again. Though both of you were using each other, he knowingly crossed a line, making you feel things for him in a situation where feelings weren’t supposed to be involved. And he never gave you a chance to truly address the situation. Now, almost a year later, he’s ready to speak to you on his own terms. You’d be sure to tell him you had no intentions of making amends with him. If you personally didn’t have interest in what he had to say, you wouldn’t bother gracing him with the ability to explain anything to you.

You would’ve made him suffer. He’s lucky you’re still a bit distraught about the situation. Any longer into your situation-ship with Suguru and Satoru wouldn’t even have the slightest chance at something like this.

Dinner with Suguru was transparent. He could tell something was on your mind but he didn’t pry much after his first attempt. The last time you both talked about Satoru he turned into a different person, and it didn’t sit right with you. You did your best to brush it off, assuming he was just protective over you. But Satoru’s warning in the library echoed in your subconscious more and more. Just what happened between them, and would it be okay for you to ask Suguru about it?

He wasn’t your boyfriend either, but you suppose he wanted to be? You hadn’t brought up the dating conversation in while and you probably wouldn’t until you situated the Satoru thing.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” Suguru’s holding your face, brushing your hair out of your eyes. His smile is incredibly gentle and you feel guilty for keeping this from him.

Perhaps you should hold Suguru accountable too, for being so sweet to you like this. He informed you he wouldn’t up and leave unless you wanted him to and that he’d never say anything he didn’t mean. But after dealing with trauma from past relationships, affection like this was always perceived cautiously.

“I know,” you say, feeling his lips press against your forehead again. “It’s just not easy to talk about right now.”

“That’s alright,” he assures you. “I’m here whenever you’re ready.”

His lips connect with yours while his hands slide down your back. He feels you relax a bit, and that makes him smile. How could he possibly be a bad person?

“I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”

You nod, watching him part from you and get into his car. You never did come to understand how he could afford it; a black Mercedes Benz-Coupe. You assumed that and his nice apartment were inherited wealth from his parents.

You wave at him before going into the station. Luckily he had things to attend to, and you didn’t have to bother making up anything about tonight. It was just barely any of his business, right?

You had an idea of what to expect from Satoru when you got there. You were rehearsing things you wanted to say in your head, some of them incredibly mean. You wanted to hurt his feelings too, if you had it in you. It didn’t take you long to get to the cafe, and you’d arrived early, already finding Satoru in the very back, furthest away from people. You gripped your bag strap, before sitting across from him.

“Hey, you’re early.” He says surprised, looking up at you from his phone.

“You’re the early one.” You say, not even cracking a smile.

“How are you?”

“Same as earlier. What did you want to talk about?”

He’s visibly gulping, and you’ve never seen him this nervous. He places his phone face down on the table, turning the sound off. You cross your arms.

“Right,” he lets out a heavy sigh. “Where should I start?” He attempts to gather his thoughts, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans.

“I’m not the kind of guy who really addresses his feelings, if you couldn’t already tell at the time we, you know... I’ve been fucked over a lot. I don’t have a lot of actual friends, and I’m constantly aware that people cling to me for my money or looks.”

He never acted like his entourages bothered him per se, but you did notice that he never bothered being around people anymore when the two of you were a thing. You prompt him to continue with your eyes.

“The only best friend I’ve ever had used me until I realized what was going on and cut him off. The first girl I ever really loved chose him instead of me shortly afterwards. Obviously, it’s not a legitimate excuse to have treated you the way that I did, but I guess what I’m saying is that I’m cautious of people and have been for a long time now.”

“But I never tried to use you,” you interjected. You felt a bit insensitive for spitting it out like that, but he really did hurt you.

“I know, and I realized that a bit too late.” He sighs. “But more importantly, I realized that I didn’t talk about or convey my feelings correctly. I know I confused you a lot, and you didn’t deserve that at all.” He tried to keep eye contact with you when he spoke, but your lion like force was pretty strong.

“And when I dropped you off— I shouldn’t have said those things to you. You were so much more than a warm body to me. You were the first real friend I’ve had in a long time. Things got so cloudy for me since we were sleeping together. I didn’t know how to address it, and it freaked me out when you told me you wanted more. I should’ve been elated, but I suppose I didn’t want my heart broken again either.”

“So basically...” He breathed out, “I’m really sorry. I’ve got some messy emotions, things I’m gradually learning to deal with. I’m not making excuses for myself. It’s just I never did talk about myself much when we were a thing, so I wanted to tell you something at least, and apologize. I hated the way I left things. I know it’s long overdue for an apology but...”

“But?”

“I still have feelings for you. I never stopped. The more time passed, the harder it made it for me to apologize and tell you how I feel. And then I noticed you were going out with... him, so I thought it was too late. But I still wanted to try, I guess.”

He looked so awkward, you almost laughed. Apologies were definitely foreign to him. You could tell he meant it, but even so, he wouldn’t be getting a relationship out of you, if that’s want he wanted.

You let out a large sigh. For some weird reason all the angry things you wanted to say wouldn’t come out. You wanted to be angry at him but you just couldn’t. And your heart was swelling at the idea of him still having feelings for you. Did he really mean that?

“We’re not together. Not yet anyway— it’s complicated.” You crossed your legs and leant back in your seat. Suguru probably would’ve been your boyfriend already if you weren’t so stuck on Satoru.

“Oh,” he said quietly. You’d never seen him look so small, it was definitely out of character for him.

“I forgive you,” you lean forward, holding your head in your hands. All this time and you still had soft spot for him.

“Really?” He’s surprised. Your friends will be too after you tell them this story.

“You want me to take it back?” You’re pinching the bridge of your nose.

He chuckles nervously. “No ma’am.”

“Are you... doing okay though?” He probes after noticing the stress in your brows.

“I can’t stay mad at you. And I want to so bad. It’d make my life simpler. Now I’m conflicted.” You drag your fingers under your eyes, before smooshing your own face, stressfully so. He thought you were cute, but he felt bad being the source of your distraught-ness.

“So I take it you still have feelings for me?” His voice is regular now, and just barely his normal cocky tone.

You won’t even look at him. “I mean...”

How do you explain to him that the only reason you’re messing with someone right now, who just so happens to be his ex-best friend, is because you were trying to forget about him in the first place?

“I get it if you don’t.” He says. “It’s been a while.”

“I do.” It’s almost instinct for you to correct him. “That’s the problem.”

“Ah, I see.” He’s rubbing the back of his neck again. You wished you could start over with a clean slate. School and dating shouldn’t be this difficult.

Satoru thought to warn you again about Suguru in that moment, but he held his tongue. He didn’t want to make it seem as if he was badmouthing him so you could favor him more, he wanted you to lean towards him naturally, if possible.

Silence reigned throughout your little booth in the cafe. The sound of rain hitting the window screen made it easy not to talk so much. It also made it hard to see a certain black, long-haired male in his Mercedes Benz, parked just across the street.

Suguru threw his cigarette out the driver’s window, continuing to watch the both of you inside. He shook his head disappointedly before starting his car.

“And that reminds me,” you say, making Satoru swallow hard and shift in his seat.

“What was that nonsense two months prior, about Geto Suguru?”

[leoneslover]

Reacting to their s/o calling them a pet name ☆

Jojo’s(2-5) x reader(gn!)

Synopsis: pretty self explanatory, just their reactions to you calling them a loving pet name for the first time!

Warnings: none

A/n: I may have added some pet names in Italian for some of these lol I hope you enjoy.

☆彡 JOSEPH:

You’ve been dating for a while, and it was no secret that the man here was all lovey-dovey with you all the time

Whether it was by touching you in any kind of way, or calling you sweet names, he was constantly sharing his appreciation for you.

And while he understood that you could be a little bit more on the quiet side when it came to love (unlike him), he still wished that some of his actions rubbed off on you.

So when you finally decided to start opening up to him, he was beyond elated.

It happened one day after hamon practice.

He came back to your room, completely exhausted and in need of cuddles.

You watched with a soft smile as the tall male made his way towards your bed, flopping into the empty space next to you.

“(Y/nnnnn)” he called for you, his voice muffled since his face was hidden in the sheets.

You laughed lightly, perfectly knowing what it meant.

You patted your thighs, as an invitation for him to lay his head on them.

“Come here, amore”

His head immediately snapped up at the sound of the word falling from your lips.

He looked over at you, eyebrows rised in surprise and a faint blush on his cheeks.

You smiled back at him, a little embarrassed.

He grinned as well, moving towards you and laying his head on your lap.

You started to play with his hair, a content sigh escaping his lips as he spoke.

“So... amore huh”

You smacked his head lightly, as a sign for him to shut up and not bring it up.

He laughed loudly, a string of ‘sorry’s’ following.

“It’s alright baby cakes, I like it... I like it a lot actually”.

“Yeah, you better” you snorted, still feeling your face a little warm from the embarrassment

He smiled, the word amore still echoing in his head as he slowly fell asleep to your touch.

☆彡 JOTARO:

Oh my boy Jotaro did not see that coming.

He wasn’t particularly the most loving boyfriend per se, but that didn’t mean he was a bad lover.

However, his vague love language didn’t really help in giving you confidence to show your love to him.

That’s why he thought you just weren’t one for romance either, which he didn’t necessarily mind.

So when you unexpectedly called him other thing rather than his name (or nickname for the matter), he didn’t really know how to react.

The burning heat from outside was slowly killing you, even after finally spending a night at a hotel instead of camping in the middle of the desert.

“Darling, can you turn on the fan please?”

Your boyfriend looked up at you, a small frown of confusion painting his features.

You looked back at him, waiting for him to do what you asked him to do.

However he stood still, looking intensely at you for a solid minute.

That’s when you realized what you had called him, and you couldn’t help but feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you.

“S-sorry I didn’t meant to... it just kinda slipped y’know...” you tried to explain.

But to your surprise, he just sighed, standing up to turn on the fan for you.

“Thank-“

“I don’t mind you calling me that by the way” he let out suddendly, his gaze not meeting yours.

“Oh, really?” A glimmer of hope flashed through your eyes.

“You can call whatever you want, I don’t really care” he tried to play it nonchalantly, laying down on his bed, hat falling over his face.

“Oh... ok then, darling” you smirked playfully, looking directly at him.

“Yare yare daze” he pulled his hat down.

But you still managed to see the small smile tugging at his lips.

☆彡 JOSUKE:

Please, the first time it happened he almost had a heart attack.

I like to think of him as the perfect middle ground, not too overwhelmingly loving, but not too dry either.

He plays it cool, holding hands while you guys are outside, the occasional peck in the cheek or forehead when he has to go.

Y’know, casual interactions.

So you decided to play along, mainly so both of you could be comfortable enough and go at your own pace.

But sometimes slips happen.

Like the time when you were sitting in his bed, watching amused as your boyfriend tried to get his hair right for the thousand time.

“Goddamit” he sighed, frantically combing it upwards with a deep frown on his face.

You giggled behind him, taking one of his pillows in your arms.

“It looks good love, you don’t have to worry about it”.

He was about to complain, but then he realized what you just called him, making any attempt of discussion die in this throat.

He stared at you through the mirror, eyebrows raised and comb forgotten in his hand.

You stared back at him, a little embarrassed, but also amused at his reaction.

“Um, thanks I guess” he blushed, still taken aback by the whole thing.

You giggled, watching as he tried to hide his burning face in the mirror while adding his ‘finishing touches’.

Then he stood up with confidence, slight grin plastered on his face as he turned to look at you.

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He extended his hand for you to take it.

Now it was your turn to get flustered, and he couldn’t help but laugh loudly at your expression.

Taking your hand in his, he dragged you out of his bed, deciding to get on going with your date.

However, the little kiss he pressed at your temple before he opened the front door didn’t go unnoticed by you.

☆彡 GIORNO:

I like to think of Giorno as a little bit more on the romantic side.

Which means that he was probably calling you sweet stuff before even getting together.

So when he finally could call you amore mio without it sounding awkward, he was on cloud nine.

However, as much romantic he can be, he also understands boundaries, so when he noticed that you weren’t as responsive with your love language as him, he thought that maybe he needed to tone it down a little.

Don’t get me wrong, the fancy dinners each weekend and the opening doors for you is still a thing.

But besides that, he tries to match your love language the best he can so you can be comfortable.

(He still calls you amore and cara every once in a while tho).

Anyways.

He wasn’t really expecting for you to be all lovey-dovey at any point really, so the whole interaction took him by surprise from the start.

You entered his office late at night, while he was still working even though he shouldn’t.

He briefly looked up from his desk to look up at you, shooting you a little smile before going back to his work.

You walked up towards him, rounding the desk and getting behind his chair to see what he was up to at such a time in the night.

“It’s late amore you should go to bed” he spoke, scribbling something on a piece of paper.

“But how can I go to bed if you’re not there with me tesoro”.

He stopped his ministrations, almost freezing in his place as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders.

“Come to bed with me? Please?” You begged, pressing your cheek agaisnt the top of his head.

He couldn’t help but blush to tip of his ears at both your words and actions, his heart fluttering at your affection.

Oh how could he resist when you were just so cute?????