#JUST TO ADD ONTO THE ANGST ON MY DASH OKAY

[improbable-outset]

📂 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞

𝐀/𝐍: So I got bored at work and done this. Some of these head cannons might contradict to the current fics I’ve written but who cares, this is fan FICTION. I did try to add both genitals here… but I’m used to writing fem reader when I write for Miguel so there’s heavy emphasis on AFAB reader.

𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

📄 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I see a lot of people writing him as very attentive and soft when it comes to stuff like aftercare which is totally okay. But I like to put a little bit of angst in my writing and personally, I think these tender moments won't come naturally from him. Not yet.

This man has a lot of baggage and is fully aware of it. He lost his daughter and is living a post-tragedy. It’ll take some time to get used to being emotionally vulnerable with someone again, including giving aftercare.

The first few times you did it together, he’s still clueless about how to take care of things. At most, he'll probably hand you his shirt to keep you warm and give you some wet wipes to clean yourself up. You’re going to have to be patient with him since he is a little rusty and trying to relearn these intimate gestures. If you communicate your needs, he’ll do his best to fulfill them.

Tell him you want to shower together and clean each other off, cuddle with him, tell him to stay with you because he makes you feel safe. Sooner than you might expect, he'll be all over you when it comes to you and being attentive to your needs and desires.

📄 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Miguel really loves his arms and how big they are. Pretty sure I can recall him carrying an anomaly with one hand before dashing it through the portal. I could be wrong… Of course he’ll take advantage of his strength and that means picking your up with ease whether it’s over his shoulders to spank you, or bridal style to bed if he’s feeling extra romantic.

I see him as a thigh guy when it comes to his partner. He just loves feeling your thighs, whether he’s kissing you passionately with you laid beneath him, or would grasp onto them while going down on you and feeling how your legs tense around him as you fall apart.

If you’re a woman, he will delve into your breasts the second you take your top off for him. Whether you're small or heavy chested, he’ll adore it all the same. Especially when you’re lactating…especially when you’re lactating. Be prepared for him to gently suck on them, maybe even leave some bite marks.

📄 𝐂𝐮𝐦.𝐝𝐨𝐜

A man with his size, he comes a lot, and that's just from one orgasm. That being said, you can imagine how intense it can be when you suck him off and he comes inside of your mouth. It can get messy, very messy, and he can fill your mouth faster than you can anticipate so be prepared.

He likes to watch his cum leaking from your hole after stuffing you with his load. It gives him a sense of pride knowing that he’s capable of doing that to you. He’ll even give you kisses and praise you for taking all of him so well in the end.

On occasion, he does like to spray his cum over your chest and stomach. Though he’d prefer to do it inside so it’s less of a mess to clean up after.

Also might I add, I saw someone had a head cannon that his cum comes out as cobwebs/has a cobweb texture. That might spark some inspiration for future fics… we’ll see.

📄 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I don’t know what it is, but I have a feeling he’d probably jerk off to you pre-relationship. He didn’t know at the time what made you so enticing that he pleasured himself while thinking of you. Maybe it was the way you moved, the way you carried yourself and how smooth you were with everything.

It makes him feel absolutely filthy even thinking back to it, that he allowed himself to think of you in that way. But after a while, he just couldn’t get his mind off of you and reluctantly, he found himself doing it again.

He’s never admitted it to you though and would probably take it to his grave. He doesn’t want to creep you out or think of him as a perv, even after doing it with you several times.

He secretly wants you to use a butt plug on him too or call him a good boy but his pride will never let him admit to it.

📄 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Given the fact that Miguel is canonically a cheater, I think it’s safe to say that he has had his fair share of experiences lmao.

I haven’t read the comics but I can see him as the type to fuck around in his late teen years since he was a little rebellious according to the wiki page and supposedly cocky in bed too.

Most of them were probably nothing serious anyways.

If you have no experience and he’s your first, he’ll be as slow and gentle as he can, constantly reassuring you that you’re doing well ect.

📄 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Missionary: The classic I’d call it. I think it is obvious that this is one of his favourite positions to do with you: he can see your face and most importantly eye contact. It’s easier to feel your body too, gripping onto your waist and maybe steal a quick kiss in between before he continues to fuck you senseless.

Mating press: Same reasons as doing missionary but he can push himself deeper inside of you with your legs resting on his shoulders with better leverage. He likes to see your legs go limp on his shoulders after he comes inside of you and pulls out.

Doggy style: He loves giving you back shots. What more is there to say? He loves the feeling of your ass against his crotch and he has easier access to your hair to tug from time to time.

Prone bone: Same as doggy style in addition to seeing you bury your face into the pillow to muffle your moans. It’s more comfortable laying down on the bed on both of your parts too.

Lotus: On occasions when the mood is more sensual and romantic than usual and he wants to feel more connected with you, he’d stick to the lotus position. He might just want to do it after a rough day, and feeling your embrace without being on top of you will definitely lift his mood.

📄 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

You’re probably going to have to initiate anything remotely unserious during sex if I’m going to be honest. Just like the intimate gestures, it won’t come naturally to him.

Not saying that this man is stone cold, we’ve all seen how he smiled with his daughter and how she was smearing her ice cream on his face in the movie. I think he does have a funny bone deep in his body somewhere under the stoic demeanour. It’ll only take the right person to bring it out. And bear in mind, he doesn’t trust openly.

Maybe chuckling softly before he dips himself to kiss your neck and hearing you whine for more. He might throw a lighthearted witty remark to throw you off. Your reaction amuses him. A lot. Shock, what has he done to you? Definitely see him as a tease but we’ll get to that in a bit.

📄 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫.𝐝𝐨𝐜

He chooses to keep himself trimmed but with his heroic duties and leading the Spider Society, it’s hard to keep up with his shaving routine

Though, you did mention how you liked his hair brush against your ass when he’s fucking you from behind, so there’s that…

📄 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Something that will take time as mentioned earlier. After the loss of his daughter and monitoring the multiverse, he’s had a hard time emotionally connecting with people. Most of the time it’s cause of him shutting everyone out.

Once his emotional barriers have cleared with you, he’ll become more open with his affection especially in bed. He’ll praise you and mumble a few ‘te amo mucho’ while kissing you everywhere and learning every crevice of your body.

📄 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Not as often now that he has you other than watching tapes of you. We’ll get to that in a bit.

But even before you got together, he never had the time to pleasure himself.

Whenever he does come around to do it, it’ll be from the stress and pressure he faces everyday. But he hates the mess he’ll have to clean up after, and there is a lot of mess.

📄 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Breeding kink: I think the majority of Miguel fans agree that he has a breeding kink. Whether you can carry a child or not, he will stuff you as he climaxes. If you do get knocked up and you start to show, he’ll be all over you, reliving the moment of the baby’s conception again and again while kissing all over your swollen stomach. Yes, he misses his fatherhood days and wants to try again with you.

Lactation kink: Just as we discussed earlier, he loves seeing you lactate. It’s one of the things he admires about how your body changes as you carry and grow his child. Catch him suckling on your breast midway as he kisses all over your body.

Bondage (with his webbing): It comes to no surprise that Miguel will use his enhanced abilities and powers to his advantage in bed. That being said, he will use his webbing to limit your ability to move. He might start off with webbing your hands together or maybe tying both wrists to the bedpost, depending on where you do it. It’s amusing to him watching you squirm from his touches while being tied up.

Sensory deprivation: According to cannon, he has enhanced vision and can see in complete darkness, since he doesn’t have Spider Senses, and he will be using that in bed with you. Maybe when you least expect it. He likes fucking you in the dark and watching your reaction while you, on the other hand, lay still in anticipation and react to his different touches. This also might awaken his interest in fear play with you but he won’t discuss that with you unless you're 100% comfortable.

📄 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Your shared bedroom is his safe place where he can let loose and lose himself in his desires with you.

He likes doing it in the kitchen. He doesn’t know why it excites him, but seeing you in the middle of either cleaning or cooking and watching how your hips sway with each movement, he can’t help but grab your waist and pull you closer so you can feel his hard on from behind.

On occasions when it is just the two of you in HQ, he’ll probably sneak in a quick fuck with you before a anyone comes in after their mission task and report to him, and he’ll act like nothing just happened between the two of you.

📄 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜

One of Miguel’s main motivations is watching you play with Mayday or just handling babies in general. It instantly kicks the breeding kink and baby fever on overdrive and he will take you to bed the minute you arrive home.

Another motivation, as mentioned earlier, is watching the way your body sways gracefully as you complete your domestic tasks. It’s even more enticing when you’re completely oblivious to how sensual you are in his eyes. You’ll be the death of him and you don’t even know it.

📄 𝐍𝐎.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Being called ‘master’ in bed. Though he does like being in control and taking the lead, being called that, especially by his romantic partner, is uncomfortable for him. Having said that, he wouldn’t mind being called ‘sir’ from time to time, especially if you were to use that sultry voice on him. It makes him weak in the knees everytime.

Collars and leashes are a big no too, it hurts his pride being used on him, and seeing it on his partner is…unsettling.

He refrains from using his venom on you too. It was you who initiated the idea but he refused. Physically, the furthest he’ll go is tying you up.

He tries to avoid shower sex, but if you coax him and rile him up enough, he might give in. Just try not to over do it otherwise he’ll stop doing it all together.

📄 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Miguel is fully aware how big he is so he wouldn’t expect his you to suck him off if you can’t handle it. But when you do, he’ll be driven up the walls. He loves watching his cock disappear inch by inch and fully engulfed into your pretty mouth.

He watches how your perky lips wrap around his length before you start moving. He’d have to hold back, using every fibre in effort to not grab your hair and start fucking your throat straight. The last thing he wants is for you to gag or chock midway.

He loves giving it to you though. He can’t get enough of how your legs enclose around him as he delves into your sex. He finds it amusing how you would buck your hips up for more friction especially when you whine for more, only for him to grip your sides and hold you down.

📄 𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Depending on the mood. He’ll be slow and sensual if you want to take your time especially after a long, rough day at HQ and all he wants to do is unwind and make love with you and just pour all of his affection and appreciation in one night.

If you’ve teased him, giving him hints and the ‘fuck me’ eyes throughout the whole day, be prepared because he will not hold back. Since he does have a high stamina, not just in combat but in bed, he’ll rut for hours— and in different positions too.

I mean, you brought this upon yourself so you have to deal with the consequences. Should’ve seen it coming querida, hm?

Sometimes there’s room for both if you have more time together.

📄 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Definitely would want quick fucks in the morning before he starts his day, especially knowing that the fate of the whole multiverse is dependent on him as he always says to you.

He will be away from you the whole day and expect to be under a lot of pressure and withhold that responsibility, so a quick release inside of you will boost his morning before he has to get out of bed.

📄 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐤.𝐝𝐨𝐜

He’s usually pretty sensible when it comes to having sex in a private space like your bedroom but for some reason, being with you awoken something in him. Maybe it was the way you were a tease.

He never thought he’d be fucking you in the middle of the day while on duty. He reluctantly let you suck him off while he was overseeing the multiverse once. He was stressing out and you insisted on assisting him relief some of that pent up frustration.

📄 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I don’t think I need to go into full detail here. We all know this man has superhuman stamina. His body releases less fatigue toxins than an ordinary human so he will use that in bed with you.

If you don’t have the same level of energy as him, he wouldn’t mind either taking a break or stopping all together. He’s aware that his high stamina is because of his DNA that not everyone can keep up with.

📄 𝐓𝐨𝐲𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Other than the butt plug I mentioned earlier, Miguel doesn’t seem to see the use in toys. He’d rather do the work with his hands and his dick. Furthermore, he can always use his powers and enhanced abilities in bed too.

He does use a vibrator with you from time to time just to edge you a little.

📄 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫.𝐝𝐨𝐜

In time, when Miguel gets in the swing of things he will tease you, especially knowing how bad you want him (and vice versa). Whether it’s hearing you beg him to touch you or to reach your orgasm, Miguel will tease you when he’s in the right mood for it (or when you’re being punished).

Orgasm denial will happen often so don’t think he’ll let you come that easily. He secretly wants you to do the same to him too but, again, his pride will never let him admit to it. Give it time. Trust me.

It’s been a while since he had a connection like this with anyone and having someone want him this much will do things to him.

If he is planning on getting you knocked up, all the teasing goes out the window. He will please you all he can and prepare you before he spills his seeds in you, in hopes of you getting pregnant.

📄 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I can’t imagine him being the type to be loud in bed but I can definitely see him being vocal, especially when it comes to praising you or coaxing you to come. Sometimes you just can’t control your mouth in the spur of the moment.

He might groan and grunt from time to time when he’s focusing on reaching his climax or when he’s trying to hold back.

And those who want to hear him whimper….maybe try and top him and see how that’ll end up.

📄 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Been waiting to get to this! He gets off watching holograms sex tapes of you either pleasing yourself or squirting/ejaculating.

He’s able to watch from every angle and will rewatch it again and again until he’s finally alone with you and can see you come in person from his touches.

📄 𝐗-𝐫𝐚𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

We’ve all seen the fandom talking about Miguel fingers being 11 inches. Someone said that his hand is bigger than an A4 piece of paper (Don’t take my word for it lmao)

So it’ll only make sense if he’s dick is big too, same size as his fingers I’d say, maybe an inch or two smaller, because holy fuck he’d split you in half with just his dick!

Pretty girthy too so he’ll rub on every crevice of your silky walls, giving the best friction.

📄 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.𝐝𝐨𝐜

It makes sense that Miguel has a high sex drive especially with his pent up stress. He would take it out on you in bed after a long day and grin as you beg for more.

He wouldn’t initiate anything for a while until he’s properly settled with you and once he’s comfortable enough, he’ll pull you towards him in the most unexpected moments.

📄 𝐙𝐳𝐳.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Miguel’s suffering from insomnia is one of my head cannons, so don’t expect him to drift off immediately after sex anytime soon. He battles haunting nightmares of the multiverse collapsing one day and sometimes his brain replays the image of his daughter fading away in his arms over and over again.

But eventually they do begin to relent. Listening to your steady breathing as you sleep, nestling in his arms or on his chest really helps calm his nerves.

Cum.doc please 😭

[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 1

Title: Same coin, different faces

PAIRING: Bang Chan x Reader

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: Despite not being together with Chan anymore, you somehow end up in the back of his car...fogging up the windows.

TAGS: pre-established breakup trope, swearing, a dash of angst but also a hint of resolve, mentions of alcohol (neither the reader nor Chan is drunk), a bit of manhandling by both parties, oral sex (reader receiving), car sex, unprotected, sort of hate/rough sex. 

MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER LIST

(This is currently unedited but I will be proofing it later on)

It wasn’t as fun as you had hoped it to be, a party that is. Given it was the end of the semester, people usually prefer to go all out - which they did, but you weren’t feeling it. There were far too many people off of their faces, including your entire friend group that you showed up with.

Two of them were playing drinking games in the kitchen, one of them - Minho, who had completely disappeared for the past few hours, and another one who had found himself someone to hook up with. 

In the end, you were on your own for the remainder of the party. After having found a way into the lounge through the masses of people attending and remained on the couch, watching those around you for a while, you decided to get back up and grab a drink. There wasn’t an entire selection to choose from; either warm beer or cheap wine, which you grab from the latter and pour some in a plastic cup to try and fit in with everyone else. 

The briny taste of the wine was enough to make you think that maybe it was time to go home. It wasn’t fun, interesting, nor a good way to spend your time on a Friday night. Before being able to make the decision to leave, you find yourself planted on the ground when your eyes catch onto a familiar figure amongst the people. 

Chan. Your ex-boyfriend - your ex-best friend at that too. 

It was a surprise to see him given that he isn’t really a party goer, but also a surprise to see him in general after the pair of you went through such a tumultuous breakup a month ago. Things just didn’t work out the way they were supposed to which was unfortunate because Chan is one of a kind.

There isn’t anybody like him that exists in this world. He’s gentle, caring, and has a bottomless well of love to give. Now that you’re not together anymore, you know that whoever he ends up with in the future is well taken care of. 

“Hi,” Chan says, walking up to you. 

“Hey,” you respond back, unsure of how to actually talk to him now. “What are you doing here?” 

Chan sighs, looking at the screen of his phone momentarily then turning his attention back to you, “trying to find Minho. I’m here to pick him up, but I can’t find him. Is he here?”

“I haven’t seen him for the past couple of hours,” you answer. “I highly doubt he’s actually here still.”

He sighs and rolls his eyes, “course he’s not.”

“He probably went to Jisung’s at some point,” you add.

“Yeah, that makes sense,” he replies before his eyes peer down at the plastic cup. “Drinking? That’s not like you.” 

“It’s the end of the semester,” you say in your own defence. “I was trying to finish off strong.”

“Right. Have you got a ride home then?” 

Your eyes dart beyond Chan to ‘your ride home’ who has probably now consumed half of his body weight in alcohol. Chan catches your gaze, turns around and sees Seungmin throwing back another shot with a couple of strangers, presumably his classmates.

Chan sighs once more and faces you again, “don’t tell me he was supposed to sober drive.” 

“He won’t be now,” you respond. 

“Okay well, I can drop you off. Minho’s not replying and he’s probably not here, plus I’m getting tired,” he offers. 

You ponder for a moment. Since Chan had come up to you, you hadn’t felt that sting of pain that a breakup usually induces. Not since the day you both called it quits on the relationship. But that’s only because things were never awkward with him. It’s only until now that you realise how depleting life has been without him. It’s not colourful anymore. 

It’s an issue because you don’t want to be reminded of what you don’t have anymore. Sometimes, the best things can be the worst for us. 

“It’s okay, thank you though,” you decline respectfully. “I might tell the others to get ready to head off.” 

“And who’s going to drive them? You?” He asks with a brow raised then shakes his head with disapproval. “You’ve been drinking.”

“Not that much,” you retort. “I’m not even tipsy, plus I don’t want to leave them behind.”

“Seems like they left you behind,” Chan points out a very good point which you find hard to not be in denial about. 

He takes the plastic cup out of your hand and places it on the nearest surface cluttered with other discarded items. He then returns back to you to gently take hold of your wrist and leads you out of the lounge full of people. 

“Wait-”

“I’m not letting you drive under the influence, end of story,” he decides. 

With that matter in hand, you’re quickly reminded that Chan has always had a strong head on his shoulders and his morals are very clear cut. He held reasonably strong opinions on doing unnecessarily dangerous things, particularly when it comes to you. It happened to be one of the poisonous factors that pierced the final dagger into the relationship. 

The cold air then hits you when you both make it out into the front yard. 

“I can walk thank you,” you say to Chan who forgets that he’s still holding your wrist. He looks down at his hand and releases. 

“Sorry,” he apologises. “Car’s this way.”

He leads you once more just across the street to the vehicle while you think about the fact that you never actually agreed you were going to accept his offer to take you home. In saying that, there was no other alternative other than walking which Chan wouldn’t have put up with anyway. 

The pair of you hop in his car, finally able to catch a break from the blaring music that was blasting throughout the house. After both of your seatbelts are on, Chan starts the car and drives away down the street. 

It’s not long until silence falls quickly. Things had never been this terribly awkward between you both, but there had been pockets of quietness which used to be comfortable to sit in. Now you can see that it’s not as nice. 

“So what have you been up to these days?” Chan asks out of the blue, breaking that silence. 

“Nothing interesting I guess,” you answer blandly. “Just studies and that’s it.” 

He nods, “how’s that going so far?”

“Fine, I suppose.”

Chan lets out a small huff, “you know, it’s still okay for us to talk right? We don’t need to be so hostile.”

The glow of your phone from your lap catches your attention away from his comment. You blink down at the screen and read a text from Felix. 

Lix: ‘Saw you leave with Chan. Please tell me you’re both back on.’ 

You roll your eyes. You love Felix, but sometimes he can be too optimistic. There wasn’t any way you and Chan were going to find your way back to each other. If anything, it wouldn’t be the same anymore. 

“I wasn’t being hostile, plus there’s not much to my answer anyway unless you want me to lie?” You respond back.

“No, I don’t want you to lie,” Chan adjusts his tight grip on the steering wheel. “But you speaking just proves my point on why we shouldn’t act like that.” 

You turn your head, shooting him a well-deserved glare. This isn’t usually how Chan acts. He never says backhanded things as such even though he can be relatively blunt. Whatever subtle malice was behind his words obviously came from the same place that helped the relationship tear apart. 

“This is why we never worked out because you always had to have some degree of control,” you scoff, ignoring the fact that you’ve now doused the flicker of the argument with petrol.

“I was only doing what I though was safest for you,” Chan argues back strongly. “It was never about having any type of control, it was because you couldn’t see what the consequences were.” 

“Then why couldn’t you have let me figure it out for myself? How else am I supposed to learn, when you’re not here anymore?” 

“You, driving drunk isn’t something that you just learn not to do. You don’t do it, full stop. Anyone with common sense knows that,” Chan bites back. 

“I’m not even talking about that! When have I ever driven drunk? Now you’re just fucking reaching for things! All I’m saying is that it didn’t matter how much time I spent with you, I never got to be my own person. It was like I was turning into another ‘you’.”

Chan shrugs, “in comparison to what you can be like sometimes, I honestly don’t think that’s so much of a bad thing.” 

The last nerve inside you, had been struck.

“Stop the car, I’m getting out.” 

“No, we’re nearly at your h-”

“I don’t care Chris, I seriously don’t want to be anywhere near you right now,” you cut him off sharply, not wanting to hear another word come out of his mouth. 

Chan looks over at you, absorbing how painfully angry you look right now and the fact that your hand is on the door handle, ready to bolt as soon as he pulls over. It was fairly obvious because once he did, you were out of the vehicle before he could say anything more. But as fast as you are out the door, Chan is already on the other side to meet you. 

“Don’t go home angry,” he says urgently. 

You shoot him a dirty look, thinking who the hell is he to tell you what to do, “or what?”

“Well can we at least talk then?” He questions, trying to grasp onto some common ground here. 

With as much force as you can muster, your arms come up to shove Chan by the chest, “fuck you.”

He stumbles back a few steps and is not as nearly as surprised as you are by your own behaviour. Never has anyone elicited as much of a reaction from you until now. The shock has you to the point where you can barely assemble an apology to Chan. Even so when he comes back forward, grabbing you by the sides of your arms, and shoving you right back against his own car. 

Before either of you say another word, his mouth crashes straight against yours. His swift hands are quickly groping and roaming in every place around your body that he can reach while you submit to his moves. You’ve forgotten how electrifying Chan can be at times when it comes to intimacy, that you really start to feel it when he slides his knee in between your thighs. 

You gasp against his lips, yelping almost when his hands reach behind you to squeeze your ass and to try to bring your body as impossibly close to his as he can. For a split second, you break away to consolidate what is happening. Chan remains latched onto you, his mouth now working its way to your jaw and down to your throat, sucking and biting into your skin. 

Neither of you care about whether or not he’s going to mark you up. All you care about at this point in time, is the hope that he’s going to fuck you. 

“The door…open the door,” you mumble to him, even though you’re trying to find the handle yourself. 

Even with the unshakeable frame of mind that he’s in right now, Chan listens to you. He pulls you forward with him so that he can yank the backdoor open. You hop onto the seat, pushing yourself backwards to the other side of the car to create room for him to join you. But Chan had his own idea planted already. 

He grabs you by the ankles and pulls you right back to the edge of the seat closest to him. His hands take pride in reaching underneath your skirt and tearing your underwear down your legs. 

He doesn’t even get the opportunity to fully take them off as they dangle on one leg. In saying that, it doesn’t take you very long to click onto what he wants to do. So you help him by doing your best to hike your skirt further up your thighs. Chan decides to take a few seconds to appreciate being able to relive this moment once more by using his thumb to swipe over your wet slit, collecting your juices only to bring it up to his mouth and suck it right off. 

“Fucking missed this,” he speaks for the first time in about five minutes before lifting both of your legs and separating them for his head to slot in perfectly between. 

The fan of his hot breath washes over your skin, already making your squirm forward towards his mouth. It’s been a long time since someone had touched you and Chan could tell. He knows how needy you can be, but not when you’re like this. Not when you’re straining to reach for the back of his head to pull him closer to your pussy. Not when you’re already moaning when he’s barely touched you.

Not when you’re wetter than what he usually thinks you are.

“Y-Yes…right there,” you sigh out and lie back down, waiting eagerly. 

One of your hands threads through his dark hair and tugs every time he sucks on your clit. Shivers of pleasure reverberate throughout your body, already making your legs tremble on his shoulders. If anyone were to drive past, you know you and Chan would get done for public indecency. Except that devious consequence became an elicit far away thought drowned out by your own moans the more Chan continued to eat you out. 

The best thing about it is that he’s not going easy on you. He’s being deceptively rough by digging his nails into your thighs and showing zero remorse when he relentlessly licks over that same sweet spot. The more work he puts into trying to make you cum, the harder he gets in his pants, straining at this point.

“P-Please Chan, hurry,” you cry out, trying to sit up and slide down further into his mouth. “Need to cum, please.”

When your begging and moaning become increasingly louder and more frequent, Chan knows you’re on the cusp of an orgasm. However, as much as he used to enjoy you cumming on his face, the idea of you cumming on his cock is just as good, if not better. So just as you’re about to tip over the edge, Chan pulls back. 

You blink in amongst the haziness of what was about to be a mind shattering orgasm to see Chan who’s head had lifted up from in between your legs. His mouth and chin were covered in your juices, and is completely unashamed about it. 

“You can just fucking wait,” he snaps and begins to adjust your legs so that he makes sure they cage his body at his sides, that way he can grab onto your thighs and fuck you hard and steady. 

Although you can barely see, you hear the zipper to his pants open before he takes out his cock, hard and ready to put it to use on you. You bite down on your bottom lip when Chan uses his tip to tease your entrance. He pushes his hips forward, enough to make his cock slide up and in between your pussy. 

Chan’s shaky hand manages to get a proper hold around his dick, aligning it with your wet hole, and slowly pushes in as the heat begins to encapsulate around his length. The top half of his body nearly falters forward if it weren’t for his hips that thrust forward first. 

“Chris…” you mutter in an aspirated voice, feeling the fullness of his cock stretch you out.  

There is no forewarning for the strength he has behind each buck of his hips. It takes you back to times before during your relationship and how deliciously memorable the sex always was. Chan’s main priority was to always make you cum first and regardless of his own needs and pleasure. Whether you misbehaved or were being an outright undeserving brat in bed, even then he would still let you cum. That’s how much he loved you. 

“Nobody can ever fuck you the way I do,” Chan grits his teeth, his eyes watching his cock disappear inside of you each time he rams forward, hard and fast. 

Every second that goes by, you’re grappling more and more onto your last threads of sanity. It’s hard to keep up and absorb Chris’s stamina and pace - a relentless and unapologetic pace that hits the same spot inside you over and over again until that build up of pleasure starts spreading around your lower abdomen. 

“Make me feel…so good,” you mumble incoherently. “Gonna make me cum.” 

It’s been a long time since Chan has heard you say those words - hell, even heard you moan at the very least. It’s enough to keep his pace steady but he’s very wary of the fact that he himself is already near the edge of an orgasm too. Nonetheless, he’s determined to get you there first once more. 

So Chan lets go of one of your legs at his side so that he can use his thumb to now rub fast circles over your clit. Your hands grip at the hem of your skirt, back arching as you start submitting to the crest of intense pleasure Chan has built up for you. Then within seconds, Chan has you cumming hard around his cock, shuddering, and straining his name out of your mouth as it rings throughout his car. 

“Fuck, baby…” he groans as his head tips back before he starts spilling white inside of you. 

His hips stutter finally, gently slowing down to a leisurely pace while he drowns in the afterglow from one of the most transcendent orgasms he’s ever had. He gives you both time to come down before he carefully slides out of you. It takes you a while to fully fathom what just happened, but you allow yourself to think about it. Whatever it is, it’s not regret. There’s a longing feeling there, a borderline sense of relief. 

Once Chan is decent, he helps you slide your underwear back on even though you’re both fully aware of the fact that he just came inside you. It’s not like either of you were prepared for this to happen. In saying that, Chan gently takes hold of both your hands and gets you to sit up.

“You okay?” he questions, using his finger to hook some of your messed hair out of your face. 

You nod, “yes. You?” 

“I’ve been worse,” he answers, making you smile. “I’m really sorry for what I said earlier.” 

You shake your head, “I’m sorry as well for being so stubborn. I figured that the more hostile I am towards you, the more I push myself away so that I don’t have to deal with any feelings from before.” 

Chan completely gets it, “I know. I thought I could do the same, but it seems that I’m too nice.”

You roll your eyes, “you’ve had your moments.” 

“I definitely have,” he replies. “Anyway, we should go in case anybody just saw that.” 

A bashful sense of embarrassment washes over you. It’s been minutes before you realised that you just fucked your ex. But even so, it doesn’t really feel that way. It’s just Chan, someone who you still have a lot of love for. 

“You can stay at mine, it’s late,” you suggest to him. 

Chan smiles softly, “as if I’m going to say no.”

-

A/N: Yes, I am a day late already to Kinktober - I just realised bc my dumb ass was trying to figure out time zones and when would be the best time to upload for people bc I’m quite some hours ahead from other countries. So I’ll just stick to my time zone, that way you’ll get my works a few hours earlier x

KINKTOBER TAGLIST: @mal-lunar-28 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @lizzetmv @luneskies 🩷🩷

[skzfairyy]

11:23pm

Pairings: Lee Minho x reader!

Genre: fluff, fluff, a bit of angst if you squint (Lee Know being... Lee Know, ya know)

Warnings: lots of kisses !!

Wc: 743 words

AN: Minho being soft behind closed doors was on my mind and it just had to be written lmao -Y2

The boys had been in the living room enjoying each other's company for a couple hours now. With their new album coming out soon, they were extremely busy with fully packed schedules, meaning she’s rarely gotten to see Minho and his bandmates have any actual fun all-together. So being the courteous girlfriend that she was, Y/N decided to give them their space tonight, and let them enjoy the little bit of free time they did have.

Her living room had been turned into the ultimate video game lover's dream, thanks to Felix and Jeongin bringing over their consoles for the group to play on. Minho had ordered some pizzas and made sure they were fully stocked up on their favorite snacks and drinks. Meanwhile, Y/N took this time to binge her favorite show with the fur babies to keep her company.

She was holed away in her home office, comfortably dressed in her favorite loungewear set and fluffy socks. She’d made it to episode fourteen before noticing the previous noise from the tv and loud laughter of her boyfriend and his friends had quieted down. 

     “Shall we go check on Daddy, kitties? It seems like everyone’s finally left.” 

With Soonie cuddled in her arms, her slipper-covered feet pad against the ground softly as she makes her way over to the door. Cracking it open, Doongie and Dori dash past her ankles and towards different nooks in the apartment that they like to hide in. With a skip of her teeth at the sudden betrayal, Y/N walks into the now-empty living room. 

     “Boys and their need to have every snack known to man while they game…” Y/N grumbles aloud as she lets the cat in her arms go to pick up empty snack wrappers from the coffee table.

Though it’s not a giant mess, she takes it upon herself to tidy up the common area as she waits for Minho to return from walking his friends out. 

Soonie announces Minho’s arrival with a soft meow as Y/N just finishes her cleaning. She’s now scrolling through her phone on the couch when her boyfriend appears in the doorway. 

     “Everyone get home okay?” 

     “Yeah. Innie left one of his controllers, so I met him at that convenience store down the road so he didn’t have to come all the way back." He leans down to pet the cat’s head briefly before walking into the living room.

     “Hosting is so exhausting.” He adds after plopping down onto the couch, his eyes closed as his body sagged against the cushions as if spending time with his best friends was the most draining thing in the world. 

     “Yeah.. but you still had fun.” A small giggle tumbles from her lips as she puts her phone down to look at him, giving Minho her undivided attention. 

She watches him silently with a small smile, his nose twitches briefly as his eyebrows furrow. Sometimes he’ll be doing the most mundane things and she can’t help but feel overwhelmed by how beautiful he is. After leaving her usually stoic boyfriend alone for most of the day, Y/N couldn’t help herself as she leaned forward, kissing his frown gently before moving on, peppering light kisses over his face. 

In return Minho grumbles, faking his displeasure as his own hands contradict him. They move to rest on her exposed thigh, his fingers tracing small circles as she smothers him with affection. 

     “If the boys saw you enjoying this, you’d never hear the end of it.” She teases between her kisses. 

     “Who said I was enjoying it?” Minho’s eyebrow raises as he opens one eye to look at her. 

     “Oh if that’s the case then I can go-“  Y/N halts all affection and moves to stand up from the couch. Only for him to reach out and grasp her wrist, quickly pulling her back down into his lap. 

     “No! I was joking! Keep kissing me, it feels nice.” He whines out as his arms move to wrap around her waist with his face near her own, ready for more affection.

     “You’re impossible, Lee Minho.” Y/N’s laughter rings out through their apartment as her finger comb through his hair lazily and her soft kisses once again decorate his face. 

     “You love it.” He voices with a small smirk, pinching her sides playfully before catching her lips into an actual kiss, which Y/N returns with a smile.

Y2K masterlist

[spectres-n-soap]

Hand in Hand

Content Warnings - afab and fem reader, pregnancy, angst, hurt/comfort.

A/N - What I'm about to do in the next chapter will rip out my heart.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

His words echo in your head as you open the window. The smell of breakfast Simon is making wafts through the flat, its pleasant. Domestic in a way that twists the knife in your chest and shoves it deeper.

You close your eyes and take in a deep breath, the rain of early this morning fills your senses. You shut the window quickly, slam it closed as your eyes fill with tears. You lean your head with closed eyes against the glass, the coolness of it helps with the heat in your forehead. A few tears slip down your cheeks and you look at your stomach. Sometimes, as silly as it made you feel, you forgot you were pregnant. Its natural, second nature these days as you caress it and you immerse yourself into the fantasy that's been keeping you going.

Its his hand, warm and calloused, being gently placed onto your stomach where his baby resides. Johnny rests his chin on your shoulder and presses a kiss to your cheek, everything is okay. "Yer doin' amazin' bonnie." He whispers into your ear. "Ye look amazin'." One hand wrapped around your waist and the other over your stomach, you lean back into his touch.

"Breakfast is ready." Simon calls out. You open your eyes as reality closes in. There's no one to lean into, Johnny is dead and he didn't even know. The same questions that you've been asking yourself since the very start echo through your mind. Frankly, you're getting quite tired of those questions.

How would have he reacted? Would he have married you? Would he have wanted to keep it at all? No, he would have wanted to keep the baby. This wonderful creation of both him and you. You swallow down the lump trying to form in your throat and waddle your way, because these days all you can do is waddle, to the dining table. You sit in silence as Simon fixes you a plate and then sets it in front of you. Its a typical breakfast, sausage links with eggs, buttered toast and grilled tomato. You feel like a toddler as you push the tomatoes to the side but you can't help that they make you want to throw up. Eating in silence with Simon is easy, like breathing or making the mad dash for the bathroom after the baby kicks your bladder. Simon had always been quiet long before you knew him as Simon, back when he was just Lieutenant Ghost. Back when you were just a sergeant who cracks a few jokes with Soap on comms. 

Back before the kisses, the near death experiences or this. Whatever this was.

"I think you should see a therapist." Simon finally speaks.

Your mind careens, your thoughts are sent flying like a grenade just landed at your feet. "What?" The question slips from your mouth as you look up with what must be confusion or something equal to it because he winces. 

"That came out harsh."

"Do not baby me Simon." You snap, the words come from your mouth easily. Its a comfort, to snap at him or anyone really. "Why do you think I need a therapist? Better yet, why do you think you have the right to make such a comment at all?"

"I'll go to." Simon offers up automatically and that's when it clicks. Oh, he's been thinking about this you realize. "You- I; we've not been handling his passing well." You bite your tongue and swallow the bitter laugh and words that try to rise up your throat. "The baby is less then eight weeks away from coming into this world and maybe talking about it would help with stress?" Simon adds on and you narrow your eyes at him.

"Did a nurse suggest this?" You question, stabbing the eggs as the anger rose up like a tidal wave ready to wash everything away.

"Your doctor and Mrs. MacTavish." Simon whispers the last part and your shoulders sink.

"How is she?" Your eyes don't look up from the eggs you had impaled on your fork moments earlier.

"She's worried, love. Worried about you and the baby." Simon is looking at you, you can feel it. His gaze always holds this chest collapsing weight but in this moment its a comfort. It weighs you down softly, keeps you connected to the moment.

You gnaw on your bottom lip before you concede. "I'll go." You whisper and his shoulders sink. Why does it hurt? Why does the fact he was ready for a screaming match hurt? You push those thoughts away. "Do you have a referral?" You question and he nods.

"The doctor gave it to me while you filled out the discharge papers."

"Alright then." The rest of breakfast is silent.

You lay awake again that night with sleep far outside your grasp as you stare at the wall. Simon is sleeping on the couch again but you doubt the sleep part. You swallow and turn over onto your other side, readjusting the pregnancy pillow to support your stomach again. Your hand is open and hanging off the side of the bed, right where it was connected to Simon's that morning. You stare at the wall, the only thing that separated you from him and you knew you'd only have to ask and he'd sleep on the floor again. You'd only have to wander out into the living room, swallow your pride and ask.

Was it really that terrible? Putting aside your pride? You'd already done it once today, twice if you count the sleep dazed request from when the day was still in the early hours. You shut your eyes and sink into another fantasy.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his warm chest. His body warms yours and becomes a beacon to you, a lighthouse that splits through the dark stormy night to guide you to shore. 

You launch out of bed, the fantasy wiping itself away as you wrap yourself in your blanket and wander into the living room. From your position, you couldn't see much of him but you did see his arms behind his head. Little tufts of blonde hair barely visible from behind the couch. You were right, he was still awake. The moment you step further into the territory of the living room he sits up. 

Simon sees you there, standing with a blanket wrapped around yourself like a shield and he doesn't need you to speak. He gets up from his spot on the couch and follows you into your room. He settles down by the side of your bed as you climb back into it, after listening to you get comfortable once again, your hand hangs off the side of the bed. He loops his fingers through yours and listens as your breathing slows as slumber over takes you.

He finds he can’t stay awake much longer either.

tag list - @pepsicolacoochie @http-paprika @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @snoopyee

[quinnick]

Byler Fanfic Recs

This post has been a long time coming and got jumpstarted by seeing @buck-yyyy

This list will have a break down of any tw content, set up for what to expect, side ships, and anything you may find in the tags. I also am basis towards my friends so I have limited myself to one fic from any given writer but in the future I may make rec lists with specific types of fics but for now this is just random. Also want to say, this will be from a readers stand point for readers but I also write so full disclosure. You can find all my fics in my pinned post if you are interested

Last but not least (before we begin), please please leave a kudo on the fic if you enjoyed it. And if it is your favorite thing ever, leave a comment or bookmark

Okay, without further-a-do, the list

Things I Can't Say by Chiquitablanquita

Warning for underage drinking Your classic sketchbook notebook swap with love confessions in every page. This fic is unique in the way it presents itself with majority of it’s chapters being poems. This fic is Byler focused with only mentions or references to past El/Mike. this is a first kiss and pre-relationship fic. Gay pining is everywhere in this fic and miscommunication is a big thing to. But if you are a byler who hates miscommunication... idk what to tell you (/lh) this fic is completed and is 15 chapters. Only  6470 so it’s easy to get through

Hold My Breath As I Wish For Death by LadyLillyGray

Warning for discussion of and references to suicidal ideation and self harm. Also references to canon homophobia

Will finds out about the stunt Mike pulled at the quarry in s1. It’s mostly just Will and Mike talking and sharing their feelings and I do like a good old fashion discussion fic. This is pre-relationship and first kiss. Also a Byler focused fic and other characters show up for like 5 seconds. hurt/comfort leaning on past hurt and a lot of comfort. Still has angst though. it’s just a one-shot with only 1,540 making it a light read. A good bed time story honestly

But Boys Don’t Cry, Right? by heyits_L

Warning for reference to suicidal ideation (in reference to the quarry scene again), No happy ending, major character death

A poetic listing of all the terrible things that happen in Mikes life. This fic utilizes a poetic rhythm and stanza based writing to tell a snappy story. This is a heavy angst fic with no happy ending. Short description for a short fic. it’s a one-shot with only  787 words so it is a very quick read. Not a bed time story. Unless you like heavy angst before bed I guess.

lying on the floor (typing your name into the internet) by andiwriteordie

Will thinks the barista at the coffee shop is cute but also he may have a major crush on his online bestfriend. This a AU with no UD stuff and technically a coffee shop AU. not super big part of the fic. Focused mainly on Byler but with background Elumax. This is a kind of meta fic but it is so fluffy and just super cute. There isn’t a ton to say other then that I love it. It’s a one-shot with  6252 but it’s a super light breezy read. 

What do you do now, Will the Wise? by RainbowNixie

The party plays DnD and Mike (who is DM) is doing all in his power to get the paladin and cleric to flirt. This is a cute little DnD fic that’s pre-relationship and first kiss. They are just cringefail losers the whole time and it’s stellar. It’s a lot of flirting and a lot of tension building. It is a one-shot with 11534. It’s a nice bed time story if you can read fast or want a long story. 

This is just a few for right now but tell me if anyone is interested in more of these lists ! And please make your own fic rec lists !! Always support writers and share fics you like. Feel free to send me your fav fics via ask as I am always looking for suggestions. I wouldn't add onto this post with more recs but would encourage you take make your own so those fics can circle around the tag and not just your dash. Have a lovely day

[rayslittlekitten]

No Sugar, All Spice

“Dad Will” Masterlist

A/N: So I've been slowly chipping away at this. There is a change in POV in the middle of the fic. I really wanted to stick with Lucy's POV, but I wasn't able to tell the whole story in just hers so it changes in the middle of it.

Thank you @spanishmossmagnolia and @lovebarefootblonde beta reading!

Word Count: ~1460

Pairing: Dad!Will x Wife F!Reader; Dad!Will & Daughter OC (Lucy)

Plot: You and Will take the first step in trying to mend your relationship.

Contains: angst, some fluffy father-daughter moments

Lucy looks around for her mother’s car as she waits with her classmates to be picked up.

“Luciana! Your father’s here!” Her teacher calls out.

Lucy perks up and quickly scans through the line of cars to look for her dad’s car. She instantly dashes to it by where her teacher is standing.

“Mr. Miller, I’m so sorry to hear about you and your wife. Luciana has been telling me things have been rocky between the two of you?”

“I appreciate that, Miss White, but we’re working things out,” Will nods. “I just hope Lucy isn’t affected by it too much.”

“Call me Jayne. She’s been doing well and keeping her grades, but I can tell her mood has changed a bit,” she replies.

Will’s lips form a tight line and he nods at her.

“Um, well, if you ever need to reach out, for anything, here’s my number,” she smiles as she offers him her card.

“Thank you,” Will says. “But we already have the school’s number if we ever need to contact you.”

“Daddy!” Lucy shouts when she reaches the car.

“Oh!” Miss White chuckles and moves out of the way.

Lucy opens the door for the backseat and hops in, tossing her book bag onto the seat next to her.

“Hey kiddo!” Will turns around to face Lucy.

“Daddy, how come you're picking me up today? Where’s mommy?” Lucy asks.

“She’s at home waiting for us," Will smiles. "Buckle up!"

As Lucy buckles herself, Will turns his attention back to her teacher. “You have a good weekend, Miss White!" Will nods and then takes off.

"So how was school, Lucy?" Will asks as he's driving down the road.

"It was so fun! Miss White showed us some cool science stuff. She was mixing all these different things together and made things blow up and stuff. Tomorrow we're going to learn how to make our own slime!" Lucy excitingly rambles on about her school day and it genuinely brings Will joy. He's so proud of his little girl.

"Yeah? It sounds like you had quite an adventure today," Will smiles at her through the rear view mirror. "Also sounds like this little adventurer needs a snack maybe?" Will suggests.

"Ooh! Yes, please!"

"How do you feel about getting your favorite cookies from Astrid's Bakery?" Will asks.

"Yes, please please please!" she bounces in her seat.

"And you can help me pick something out for mommy too," Will adds. "You want to surprise her with something?"

"Mommy likes the poppy seed lemon pound cake."

"Then we shall get that for her," he nods.

"What are you getting for yourself, daddy?"

"Maybe I'll pick myself up a brownie. We'll see. I'm just happy we'll all be together again," Will smiles.

"What do you--" Lucy gasps. "Daddy, are you coming home? For good?" she shouts.

"Yes, daddy is coming home. For good. No more sleepovers at Uncle Benny's!"

"AHHH!" Lucy shrieks while flailing her arms and kicking the back of the passenger seat.

"Okay, baby, I know you're happy and excited, but please don't kick the seat," he turns to her for a second.

"I'm sorry, daddy," she apologizes quietly with the biggest grin on her face.

*******

Will pops open the trunk of his car to grab his duffle bag. Lucy tries to help, but he lets her carry the bag of goodies they had just picked up from the bakery. When they enter the house, Lucy starts shouting for you.

"Mommy! We're home! We have a surprise for you!" Lucy darts around the house looking for you and she finds you in the kitchen.

"Hey there, sweetheart!" You hug her and kiss her forehead. "What's this?"

"Me and Daddy stopped by Astrid's and got you your favorite!" Lucy presents the paper bag to you and you peek inside it. "Thank you so much, baby!" You give her another hug. "Looks like you ate your favorite on the way home, huh?" You brush some cookie crumbs off her shirt.

Will leaves his duffle bag at the front door and walks into the kitchen watching his two favorite gals in the world.

"Mommy, can I have a snack?" Lucy asks as you lean down to clean off her shirt.

"Didn't you just have a cookie?" you ask her.

"Daddy only let me eat half because he didn't want me to spoil my appetite for dinner."

"I told her you're making her favorite," Will jumps in and makes his way closer to the two of you.

You turn to his voice and look at your husband. You hadn't seen him in a while, at least not for more than a moment, usually at night in passing when he's home. The two of you have mostly communicated through texts or phone calls. He looks a bit different during the day. The bags under his eyes are very prominent but he seems to be in better spirits.

"Mom?"

You turn back to your daughter. "You can have one snack, okay? And then you're going to go do your homework?"

"Yes, mommy!" she reaches up to kiss your cheek and rushes over to the pantry.

You go to the fridge to pull out the ingredients you need to start prepping for dinner.

"You need help with anything?" Will asks.

"Uh, no, I'm fine. I got this."

As you start washing the vegetables in the sink, you feel a presence behind you. You ignore it and focus on the produce. You then feel a set of hands on your waist and hair tickling the side of your face.

"I missed you so much--"

“Will, I can’t… I can’t do this yet,” you tell him as you shrink away from him. “I need some space.”

After retrieving her snack, Lucy watches you shut the sink off and walk away from Will who looks defeated. She notices you wiping your eyes.

"Daddy?" Lucy asks quietly.

"Yes, baby?" Will turns his attention to Lucy.

"Why is mommy crying? I thought everything is back to normal now."

"Me and mommy still have some things to work out, but we're a step closer to it, okay?" Will walks over to her.

Lucy nods while holding her snack.

"Now why don't you go do what mommy asked you? We'll let you know when dinner is ready," he winks at her.

"Okay," Lucy nods and walks off.

******

It's the first time in a while the whole family is sitting down together for a meal. Lucy's heart is ready to burst from joy as she eats her lasagna with a smile between her parents. She notices mom and dad are extra quiet tonight. Mom keeps her head down while taking small bites and drinking more than she's eating. Meanwhile, dad is stealing glances at mom right across the table.

"How's your food, baby?" mom asks her.

“It’s delicious like always," she smiles and then takes a bite of her garlic bread. "I miss daddy's fajitas though. Can you make them this weekend, daddy?" She looks over at dad.

"Don't talk while you're chewing. And yes, I can, that is if mommy is okay with it?" Dad glances over at mom.

"Yeah, sure. I could use a night off cooking," Mom flashes a tight-lipped smile and takes another sip of her wine. "So how was school?" she asks, changing the subject.

"We did some really cool stuff today and experimented. Miss White always makes learning fun," Lucy replies.

"I'm glad you're enjoying school." Mom reaches over to tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.

"Mommy, can we do movie night tonight?" Lucy asks. "We haven't had one in a long time. Not with Daddy." She glances over at dad and dad looks over at mom.

"Sure, sweetheart. You can pick the movie," Mom smiles at her.

*****

After dinner, Lucy skips into the living room to pick something out to watch. While she's doing that, you and Will are in the kitchen cleaning up. The two of you are working together quietly to clear the table and load the dishwasher until Will breaks the silence.

"Why don't you go relax? I've got this," Will suggests.

"It's fine. I'm almost done anyways," you reply. Will glances over at the sink still half full.

"You cooked. At least let me take care of the dishes." Will tries to take the plate in your hand from you.

“I said I’ve got this!” you say to him curtly and yank the plate out of his grip.

Lucy flinches when she hears something crashing down. She timidly walks over to the kitchen and sees something shattered all over the kitchen floor.

“It was my fault, I’m sorry. I’ll clean it up,” Will immediately goes to fetch the broom. “Luce, don’t walk in here without any shoes.”

It is clear to Lucy that it’s going to take a while before things get back to normal, if at all. For the rest of the night, Lucy lays across you and Will who are sitting at the opposite ends of the couch, with her head in his lap and her feet on yours while watching the movie she picked out. No words were uttered between you and Will until it was time to call it a night.

“Good night,” Will says as he cautiously reaches for your hand in one last ditch effort after you had set down his pillow and a blanket on the couch for him. You’re not quite ready to share a bed with him again.

His fingertips brushes up against yours for a moment to test your reaction. When you don’t pull away immediately, his fingers glide up your palm. Right as he gently grasps your hand, you slip away from him, but not before he grazes your wedding ring.

“Good night,” you tell him quietly before heading upstairs.

[hansensgirl]

please don’t take him (even though you can).

summary. | She can have anyone she wants, but you can never love again. Not without him.

warnings. | Major angst, cheating, nightmare mentions, anxiety, yearning, nail-biting, insecurities, mental heath issues, mentions of violence, abandonment, implied smut, talk of death, grief, some religion stuff (not major), loneliness, mentions of torture, PTSD, split personality disorder i think, this is really angsty and possibly triggering so please be aware of the warnings! 18+

word count. | 12k.

pairings. | Bucky Barnes x Reader, Winter Soldier x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Natasha Romanoff.

a/n. | THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 6K!!! i love each and everyone so much like serious i will kiss you all!! happy valentine’s day as well!! based off of jolene by dolly parton and love by daughter. thank you to my love @mypoisonedvine for beta-ing and listening to me talk about this fic every now and then! ilysm! this fic is very near and dear to me, so please reblog it 🥺

The Soldat’s sentences are broken, just like he is. The words fall apart as soon as they roll off of his tongue. So much to say, so few words, so little time. His hands are as cold as the bitter Russian winters, as cold as his stare. The Soldat doesn’t know what to feel. He’s as numb as when one’s entire body has been bitten by frostbite.

His voice is deeper than it was for the man he once was. From the screaming, from the crying, from the torture. He has no control, not even over his own voice. He keeps quiet and thinks. He thinks, and he thinks, and he thinks. Something has dawned on the Soldat. He does have control. But for how long? He only has it for a few minutes, maybe even hours. But it’s enough. He only has it until the soul of his mission’s body has left. He only has it until their eyes hold no life in them.

It’s 2014, and the first sentence he has completed is “I love you.”

You can remember it well. November 17th, the snow had fallen early and neither of you were prepared. Milk intended for hot chocolate boils on the stove and the crackle that the fire brings was the only sound in the room. He watches you from afar as you slowly stir the milk with a wooden spoon — the only one that he hadn’t accidentally snapped.

He doesn’t like the cold, he never has. Though he’s always warm, the cold haunts and taunts him. Memories and nightmares come with the snowfall and ice. “Are you okay, Winter?” you ask him, and he snaps out of a blank trance.

Winter. He likes being called Winter, although he loathes the season.

He nods his head after some careful thinking. Through the mess that is his mind, he manages to ask himself if he’s okay. Is he? No, he isn’t. He’s not sure why he nodded, but damn is he grateful for that smile you give in return. One in a million, you’re a burning star. The brightest there is, and the shiniest diamond ever. You’re rare, the person who poets write about and singers cry about. But you’re the only one for him. Only his.

“What flavours, Winter? Would you like to try something new?” you ask him, bringing the heat down and taking the milk off of the stove. Winter gets up from his spot near the fireplace and strides over to you. He likes the way you don’t choke in fear when he walks towards you.

You show him the numerous flavours of cookies you had baked that morning, and allow him to take as long as he’d like to choose. “M…” He struggles to say the word, scared that he’s being too demanding and that it’s a trick. HYDRA often did that. Fooling him just so that they could harm him, even though they never really needed a reason. “You can have anything you want, Winter. Anything.”

You reassure him, hesitatingly putting your warm hands on his warm face. He looks up at you, and you give him a soft smile that makes him want to cry with love. “Macadamia?” he requests politely. You hand him the macadamia cookies and smile, before grabbing one of the chocolate bombs you and he made the other day.

“Would you like to pour the milk, Winter?” you question him, grabbing his favourite mug. It was white and had a cheesy pun that always made him smile. “Yes.” He keeps his answers short, scared that he’ll say the wrong thing, or that he’ll abuse his privileges. The stories… The harsh stories they tell about him contradict him. He looks just like that feared soldier; the one you should run from.

But God, he’s just a broken man. Not too far past repairing, but just enough that it takes certain special tools to fix him. He towers over you like a brute, a powerful stare that would make anyone but you cry. He takes the carton of milk for you, cracking a slight smile when he remembers that you were so weak that your hands would shake when lifting it.

Your heart warms as his lips stretch. Before, you weren’t sure if you even had a favourite sight. But now… now you know. He’s your favourite sight. He pours the milk with shaky yet careful hands, and you envy his strength through your admiration. He stops just at the right time without having you tell him. Independence. He’s learning.

You break pieces of chocolate into the cup and let the hot milk melt the sweet treat, before adding a dash of cocoa powder. You both watch in wonder and awe as the milk turns into hot chocolate. Winter takes his cup from you, and thanks you. “You’re welcome, Winter,” you say, placing your cold hands on the mug.

He watches as you sigh at the warmth, knowing that your body doesn’t radiate as much heat as he does. “S- Share?” he offers you, taking note of how you’re slightly shivering. You nearly choke on your hot chocolate as he proposes the utmost tempting action ever. “My blanket…” He adds on, making you take note of the blanket your father gave you that rests on his shoulders.

It’s not necessary, but it gives him a type of comfort that only you can give as well. “Please?” you ask, shivers crawling up your spine and goosebumps rising on your skin. You walk closer to him, padded feet barely making any noise as they rest on top of creaky wooden floors.

He opens the blanket like wings and takes you under his arm like a bird. Ready to show you the world, even the nastiest bits and pieces of it. He wraps the majority of the blanket around you and he’s infatuated with the relaxation that you radiate. No threats, no impending dooms. You stand side by side, not so silently sipping on your hot chocolate because you love the little smile he gives at the slightly loud slurps.

Winter doesn’t know what comes over him. Courage? Cowardice? A spur of love? His mind is too messed up to think that clearly. He turns you around to face him, the blanket falling to the floor with a slight thud. Who knew wool could be so heavy?

Heavy like your heart. Heavy like the tension that lingers.

Perhaps it’s not courage or cowardice, and in fact, it’s Bucky who used to flirt like a maniac with every girl in the neighbourhood. He bends down and plants a kiss on your lips — at least that’s what he thinks it is. You’re easily goo beneath his coarse hands as they cup your cold face. He doesn’t move his lips and you don’t either. You’re both content with the simple yet unique kiss.

He pulls away and you have to admit — you’re breathless. From both the lack of air and from happiness. It’s rare to have such feelings be reciprocated. “I love you,” he bluntly admits, and never in your life have you been so shocked. “W- What?” you ask incredulously, taken aback yet you can already feel your body, soul and mind taking off to cloud nine.

“I love you.”

He repeats himself and God knows he’s willing to say those three words and eight letters over and over again just for you. “You do?” you ask him, feeling tears well in your eyes. “Yes. I love you. Love has immense, yet measurable effects and changes in the biochemistry of the brain. I mean- my brain? The three basic parts of love are driven by unique blends of brain chemicals…”

He pauses to take a deep breath.

“Every time I look at you, I have the term, ‘butterflies in the stomach.’ It’s caused by a reduction in blood flow to the stomach. I have the strongest urges to protect and love,” he explains with more words than ever.

Never in your life have you ever heard the words that are pouring out of his mouth. “Do you…?” he nervously questions, feeling his heart palpitations speed up at such a rate, it’s like he’s having a heart attack.

“I love you, even more, Winter.”

It’s 2016, and your Winter is almost a different person.

His name is Bucky– James, he tells you. You call him Jamie. Information discovered from trips to the museum and paragraphs of articles and textbooks fill out the blank spaces of his life. Apparently, students learn about him and the rest of the Howling Commandos in school. But you haven’t been, so you wouldn’t know.

The night terrors are tough, but they’ve been slowly improving with you by his side. You’re both broken in your own ways, but you have each other, and that’s enough. He doesn’t mind it when you call him Winter, but you know it makes more sense to call him by his true name. You’re fine with anything, as long as you have him.

“My, my… Did you wake up in a good mood?” you ask him, hugging him carefully from behind because you know that sometimes he doesn’t want to be touched. That’s fine. “Maybe… I was thinking of going out today. Alone. Will you be safe?” he asks you, handing you the best meal he can scrounge up. Biscuits and tea. “Always, because I have you,” you tell him, making him give you a sad smile.

You don’t have a table, so he lifts you up onto the counter that is next to the sink. Inside, there are stacks of dishes. Neither of you have the energy to wash them, but today you will, to keep yourself busy. He’s already dressed; tight red henley on top of two more sweaters that are stretched out over his broad chest.

Jeans that barely fit his thick legs, combat boots that he stole and a cap that conceals his identity from wandering eyes. He watches as you eat, just in case you accidentally bite your tongue, burn yourself or choke. He’ll always be there for you. “Did you eat?” you question him, breaking your last biscuit and handing the bigger piece to him.

At first, he refuses to take it. Doubts from HYDRA still linger, they never can go away even with the most reassurance and love from you. “Please? You can lie and you can choose to not answer, but at least take this,” you beg, placing the half in his gloved hand. He presses a chaste kiss to your lips; the taste of orange pekoe tea making him sigh.

He’s always been partial to green, even though he can’t recall ever drinking it. He reluctantly eats the piece and you stare him dead in the eyes as he does so. “You know I’ll always love you, right?” you speak up once he’s finished. You know all the proper manners like they’re written on the back of your hand. When you were younger, they were.

In loopy cursive. Black Sharpie ink settling into your skin and you can remember the way your father scolded you for doing so. The memory is fresh, fresh like the tears you notice in Bucky’s eyes. He nods, and you down the rest of your tea. You never had a preference between tea and coffee. You were grateful to have either.

They both had their flaws, and they both had their strengths. “And I’ll always love you, лунный свет,” he whispers, closing the space that divides you both. His lips — slightly chapped yet so soft — are pressed against your cold forehead. Your mouth falls open in a gasp, but it’s not one of surprise.

No.

It’s of satisfaction, and you find yourself doing it more often than once. “What does that mean?” you ask him as you trace the teacup with one of your fingers. There’s still a bit of tea inside of it, but it’s barely anything. Not enough to quench a thirst. But since it’s come from him and since his murder-scarred hands made it, it’s enough for you.

Your finger dips, and it’s only then when you notice there’s a small chip. You don’t resent the cup for it, no, not at all. In fact, you find yourself a bit more enamoured with the piece of cheap china in your hands. “Moonlight,” he bluntly tells you, before taking the cup from your hands. You don’t even realize it until he replaces it with his hands.

Oh… He doesn’t like it? Now– now you hold a little bit of resentment towards it because if James doesn’t like it then maybe you shouldn’t. “Why?” you ask as you wrap your hands around his. You lace your fingers together and you can feel the stark contrast. On one hand — your right hand — your skin is comforted by the cotton glove he wears.

On your left hand, your skin is comforted by his bare, rough hand. “Well, лунный свет, what do you think it means?” he asks you in return as you trace the stitches on his glove and the grooves of his hand. “I… I’m not sure. I’m sorry,” you apologize to him. Your head ducks down in disappointment, but not with him. It’s for yourself, as always. “Don’t be, sometimes we don’t know everything,” he tells you softly, “and that’s okay.” His words reassure you as always.

“You’re just like moonlight. You’re wise, the brightest of them all. No matter how small you make yourself, you always manage to make everyone marvel at your beauty. You’re mysterious, always a surprise, but only for some. Your aura– your brightness, it never ceases to amaze people. It helps me through the darkest times. The world needs you, I need you,” he monologues to you, and you find yourself at a loss of words. “James…” You whisper, looking up at him.

His eyes are still a bit bloodshot, but they’re glassy and you can see right into his soul. “I love you, лунный свет, until the end of love,” James whispers to you, and he places a chaste kiss on your lips. “I love you, even more, Jamie, until the end of love. Until the end of time,” you whisper back, shutting your eyes. Bucky squeezes your hands, and you do the same in return. His head slightly knocks yours as he places his forehead against yours.

“Until the end of time, лунный свет.”

It’s still 2016, and you’ve lost your Jamie.

And it’s not like he’s somewhere in a sea of people, or some nook of a large building. No, he’s gone and you don’t know how to get him back. He told you to wait in the park that nobody usually goes to. Well, if you count both yourself and James as nobodies. You watch from afar as destruction and terror rips your home apart, and you pray that James is okay. You need him.

Surprisingly, nobody notices you. You wear most of James’s clothing, as it all couldn’t fit in the two backpacks he packed. You don’t mind, because you’re trying to forget about the small gun that’s in your boot. You don’t even know how to use it, and he knows that. “It doesn’t matter, лунный свет, once they see you with a gun, you’ll automatically be the strongest person there.” His words echo in your mind and so do his actions.

He dressed you in a rushing manner. His eyes kept locking with yours. Through his soft, almost scared complex, you can see the soldier you met two years ago –– only murder in his eyes, ready for a mission.

You bite your nails and try to ignore the screams from passersby “Until the end of time, until the end of time, until the end of time, until the end of time…” You repeat the phrase over and over, hoping the Gods above can hear the plea in your voice. “Please don’t take him, even though you can, please don’t take my Jamie,” you beg out loud, looking up to the sky that greys the same way old memories do.

He’s not okay, he's probably dead… And you left him there to suffer. How selfish could you be?

“Shut up.”

I’m not wrong, I never am. I wasn’t wrong about Father, was I?

“I… That’s different.”

Is it though?

You bite your tongue, whatever snarky remark you just had has now lost itself in the mess that is your mind. You’re conflicted as always. Should you stay, and let Jamie get hurt? Or should you help him? You spend a good few minutes repeating those questions over and over. You feel like you have a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other. You let out a satirical laugh, and you know that you seem insane.

Two days ago, you had brought up a saying to Jamie.

“My father… He had this saying. When someone has lived their full life, but it still seems to go on and on, it means that God and the devil haven’t come to an agreement yet,” you tell him, pulling at a thread that hangs on his jacket. “An agreement about what, лунный свет?” he asks you, looking up from the pamphlet he stole from a museum in a town near Bucharest.

It’s crumpled, but everything is legible still. “Who has to take them,” you smile up at him, and he returns it. “Perhaps, that's what's happening. They’re still arguing, still negotiating. That’s why you’re still here. If one of them were ready to take you, they would’ve done so already. But they haven’t,” you explain to him in your usual soft voice. He once told you that your voice is one of the best things to listen to.

Better than music, better than laughter, better than the admissions of ‘I love you’ you tend to trade.

“Maybe you’re right, лунный свет. You know, you’re different from the rest of us– them,” he whispers to you, taking in the way your face creases in certain spots when curiosity takes over. “How so, Jamie?” you ask him, setting down the needle, roll of thread, and jacket. “You have hope, faith,” he starts, “it’s both dangerous yet helpful. It’s what separates you from the demons of the world.”

“лунный свет!” James calls out. You look up from the ground and the movie of your life with James pauses. “Jamie…” You whimper, taking in his form. He’s bruised and battered, cut up and injured. Just like when you found him on the porch of your home. “Oh, Jamie… What happened?” you ask him, feeling yourself begin to panic. Your heart quickens, and you rush to him like he’s about to die.

“We have to go, лунный свет. It’s a hideout, it’s for your own safety,” he briefly explains to you and he grabs your arm. His grip is perfect. Not too tight, but not too gentle. You can tell he’s scared, but you know he’ll never admit it. “I have to go fight, but I’ll be back for you. Do you know the Avengers? It’s– Argh– We don’t have enough time. But I’ll tell you all about it later, лунный свет.” James is all business and nothing else.

You’re worried, so worried. But you have hope, and you have faith, and you know everything will be okay in the end. “But you’ll stay safe, right, Jamie?” you question him. He doesn’t respond, the only thing coming from him are grunts of pain and puffs of determination. “Answer me, Jamie. Promise me you’ll stay safe,” you demand of him in a strong voice. Never in your life have you ever raised your voice like this, but when it comes to James’s safety, you no longer care.

“I promise, лунный свет, until the end of time.”

It’s still 2016, and your Jamie is going away.

He’s leaving this world, but it’s for himself. You hold back all the pleas, all the begging you have in your body because you know he wants this. He needs this. His train is going to depart soon, off to a faraway land. A cold one, to be exact. You feel tempted to remind him how much he hates the cold, but you choose to keep your mouth shut. You’ve learned a lot in the past few days, more than when you were in high school.

Steve, Jamie’s past, what HYDRA is, the Avengers, the types of evil in this world–– They’re all things you’ve learnt. Your Jamie isn’t a different person, he isn’t. He just has more to him now. You replay the horrific memories of the past days in your mind over and over, even though you hated them. You look through the glass doors, and ahead of you is James in all his beatific glory.

In front of him, though, is the Black Widow. You don’t know if she’s from Jamie’s past, but you know they have a connection. The way they speak to each other; low and soft, just like summer rain. It’s almost the same way you speak to Jamie, but it’s not quite like it. He smiles up at her, and you remember how much you love his side-profile. It’s envious, really. But then again, Jamie is perfect in your eyes, despite his horrors and his scars of his past.

Of Winter’s past.

Your Jamie and Winter have their similarities. You’d make a list, but it would go on forever. You keep your eyes trained on his face, one of your favourite things to look at. Dare you say, he looks at her like no other. You’ve never seen this look on his face. But then again, your Jamie is going away and maybe it’s that impending nervousness. She looks at you. Her green eyes –– ones that just encapture you in the best way possible –– lock with yours. You feel insecure, almost as though she’s judging you.

But one of Earth’s mightiest heroes would never do such a thing.

She’s judging you, you know. Probably thinks you’re some nobody, some pathetic little girl who can’t even defend herself.

“No, she isn’t,”

And how can you be so sure?

Right. How can you be so sure? You watch as she gives James –– your Jamie –– a pat on the shoulder. She walks out, through another door and you feel as though she did that just to avoid you. And honestly, you don’t blame her. You walk in, hesitatingly of course. Each step of yours is wary. Your old, beaten-up sneakers barely make a sound against the floor. Your Father always said you walked like a ballerina and spoke like a princess.

“H– Hi, Jamie,” you quietly greet him. He looks up, his eyebrows drawn together and his lips are puckered in thought. He gives you a small ‘hi,’ and you smile at him. “Are you hurt anywhere?” you ask him, taking his form in again. His cuts and wounds are all bandaged and healed up. You recall the marvel that is the explanation of how he heals so quickly. The super-soldier serum, curated by HYDRA just for Jamie.

“No, Shuri and Helen fixed me up. And now, they’re gonna fix my mind,” he tells you, all while letting out a light-hearted chuckle. You smile again, just to ease the tense a bit. But even you can’t fix it. “I may be back to my old self, but I’m a walking time bomb. I’m dangerous, and I need to heal. For the sake of myself, and others,” he tells you sadly. He looks up at you and he gives you a grin that isn’t his usual happy one.

Yours falls, and his follows. “It’ll only be a year, maybe even a few months. Everyone here is smarter than Tony Stark, they’ll probably figure it out,” he reassures you just like how he used to whenever you got worried. You nod, and it’s just a farce. You’re not sure if you hope he can see through your façade or not. He sighs and looks at the door. The same door that Natasha walked out of just a few mere moments ago.

You don’t look back. You don’t follow his gaze. Why waste your time on something that will hold no meaning in the future, when you have the love of your life in front of you? You tilt your beard and swallow, just the way your mother used to. At least that’s what your father told you. “I love you, Jamie. I’ll always love you, until the end of time,” you whisper to him.

“And— And I love you too, лунный свет.”

It’s 2017, and along with your Winter, they’ve taken James’s love for you.

You don’t blame them. You don’t hate them. They’ve helped James heal, help him be better (even though God has already curated such perfection). The past seven hundred and thirty and then some days have been painful. The past seventeen thousand, five hundred-twenty hours have been slower than ever. It’s not like you’ve been keeping count. No, but Friday has.

The team — the Avengers — don’t allow you to come with them on their trip to Wakanda. You expected it. Ever since Steve and Tony put their differences aside for the sake of the world, you knew you’d be shunned from the team. Wanda, Sam, and Rhodey have tried to be friends with you, but after a debriefing with Tony, they couldn’t even lock eyes with you.

Once again, you don’t blame them.

You stay locked in your room, and you don’t mind it. It’s nice. It is true that people really do look like ants from such a height. You know the glass is bulletproof, but it feels like it’s seconds away from breaking. You love seeing the rain patter against the glass, just like how you love to see the snow melt as soon as it touches the clear surface.

You wonder if they’ve cut his long hair. You love his locks. Strands of brown mixing, the occasional lighter brown strands standing out. You love the length of his hair, too. Reaching just at his shoulders, and even past them. You love the way it tickles your face, especially when he bends down to kiss you.

You love everything about him. You always have, and you always will.

Your room is small. You can’t handle big spaces — Friday tells Tony, and he scoffs. Truthfully, you’re content with anything. He could’ve given you a broom closet to live in, and you wouldn’t complain. But you like small spaces. Big spaces make you feel a bit overwhelmed. Stark Tower has many wonderments to it.

For example — the technology. If you don’t like the scenery of the concrete jungle, you can change it to the view from Tony’s vacation home in the Hamptons. You always did have the wish to travel the world. From the streets of France to the lovely waterfalls in the Philippines. But the thought of being high up in the sky, with the small chance of crashing. It may be one in five million, but you won’t take the risk.

Even air crafts have their faults and flaws. Like having only two or three backup plans, the bathrooms, the limited space, the fact that if you pay extra you get better treatment, and the food options. But everyone looks past these things and they’ve been reduced to small issues that just don’t really matter. As long as the big picture looks perfect, the small details don’t matter.

You wish you could see yourself that way. A beautiful person at first glance. Where your details –– your flaws –– don’t mean anything. Because as long as the big picture is perfect, the details don’t matter. But you’re a detail-oriented person and every single thing matters. Even the little things that nobody will see. If only you could see yourself the way both Jamie and Winter see you. They know you have flaws, like the way you don’t like listening to helpful advice sometimes.

“Ms… Mrs. Barnes?” Friday calls out. You look up to where the voice comes from. Up above you, and a little to the side is a speaker. It’s small, barely noticeable. “Y- Yes, Friday?” you ask her, setting down the old mirror that was once your grandmother’s. It has a few cracks, but they aren’t serious enough to mess with anyone’s reflection.

“The Quinjet with Ms. Maximoff, Mr. Stark, Mr. Wilson, Mr. Rogers, Ms. Romanoff, Mr. Vision, Mr. Rhodes and Mr. Barnes is arriving,” Friday tells you. You swallow thickly — nervously. You may have been preparing all week, but all that effort goes down the drain. Will he act differently? Will he be ecstatic to see you? You ask yourself all these questions, and the answers to them just seem to taunt you.

“Will you be waiting at the entrance for them?” She speaks up after a few beats of silence. You nod before you remember Friday doesn’t have eyes. She can see, but she can’t see. “I will, Friday. Thank you,” you tell her. You set down the mirror with its face on the top of your dresser. You look around and you can just feel as though there is something missing.

Truthfully, you aren’t used to your room. You miss the wooden walls that held scratches from the furniture. You miss the coziness the fireplace emanated. You miss the view of the hills covered in snow. You miss it all. This concrete jungle isn’t made for you — you aren’t made for it. You stand up and with short steps (intentionally short), and the feeling of marble underneath your feet instead of wood works up your nerves even more.

You can hear commotion –– more so people whisper shouting at each other. “God, Rogers, get a grip! You look and sound like an old lady worrying about her grandchildren,” Tony snaps at Steve, before calling out for Friday. “Friday?” he yells, shoving one of his hands into the pocket of his pants. “Yes, Mr. Stark?” she answers back.

“Is the room ready?” he asks her, and the rest of the Avengers take a seat in the living room. “Yes, Mr. Stark. Welcome to the Avengers Compound, Mr. Barnes. If you need any assistance, just call for me.” Friday’s voice is always lovely. She reminds you of an aunt who is always ready to take care of her relatives.

You don’t hear Jamie’s lovely voice and you’re worried. You can see some parts of the living room from your spot in the hallway. “Just try not to kill any innocent people, okay?” Tony sneers, earning a smack on the shoulder from Pepper. Pepper always seemed nice to you, but your encounters with her were usually a bit awkward and short-lived. Steve is ready to throw his shield at Tony and so do the rest of the Avengers who were on the Captain’s side.

“’S fine, Steve. I deserve it anyway,” Bucky whispers loud enough for you to hear. Your heart jumps for joy — your Jamie really is back. You take another step, carefully, of course. “You don’t deserve that… Are you okay, Buck? Do you need to lie down? Drink water? Fresh air?” Steve attacks your Jamie like a mother and you can see why they got along so well in the past.

“I’m fine, Steve. Really. I just want to take a tour of this… this place,” Bucky admits to Steve, and Tony just can’t pass up the chance to roll his eyes. Bucky turns his head around as he takes in the large room. The television was so huge, he feels as though he is at the cinema. He doesn’t turn all the way around, so you must deal with the sight of his back. His clothes are nothing like the clothes he used to wear back in Romania.

He looks like he just attended his own funeral.

“You sure, Buck?” Steve asks him for reassurance. Bucky nods and he thinks about how much he misses his goats. “Alright, but remember to call for Friday if you get lost.” Steve pats Bucky on the shoulder and Tony is the first to walk out of the room, as usual. Pepper follows him, knowing how Tony gets whenever he sees Bucky. “Can I see my room first?” Bucky quietly asks Steve, making sure nobody else hears.

“Of course, Buck. It’s upstairs, is that fine?” Somehow, Steve believes that Bucky has a fear of heights. Though Bucky fell from a great height back in 1940-something, he’s not scared of heights. He’s more terrified of the cold and of trains, especially ones that run between mountains.

“Everything is fine, Steve,” Bucky snaps, growing tired of his best friend’s constant worrying. Steve raises his hands in surrender and you can tell Bucky doesn’t like that. “Hi, Jamie,” you greet quietly. You immediately regret ever leaving your room as everyone whips their heads around to face you. Bucky’s lips fall open in a gasp.

“Doll,” Bucky whispers beneath his breath. You take in his face and he’s just as beautiful as ever, if not more. Wisps of his hair fall and frame his face. He has a slight five-day-old scruff, one that is clean but also slightly messy. You remember the way you would sit in his lap, razor in hand, as you clean up the edges of Bucky’s beard.

He pushes past Sam, past Wanda, past everyone — hell, even past Steve who doesn't take the shove lightly. He nearly trips over the white couch that stands in the way. He comes up close to you, and you look up at him. You watch his eyes — but you don’t look into them. For some reason, you can’t seem to lock eyes with him. “Oh, my doll… I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers softly as he cups your face with his murder-scarred hands.

“Jamie…” You easily mimic his look of shock with a mix of adoration. You’re not sure how you ever said goodbye to the man in front of you — no, the man he used to be.

Now, he’s different. He’s not your Winter, your Winter is gone. They’ve taken him from you, and if it weren’t for the circumstances, then you would’ve fought them until the last tooth and nail. “I’m back, Doll, and ‘m all yours,” he whispers, bringing your face forward to his. You close your eyes and you think he’s going in for a kiss, but he stops when his lips are inches from yours.

“But I need to get better first, Doll. I need to get used to everything, is that all right?” He asks even though he should already know the answer. Right? You don’t know what they did to your Jamie. The rushed explanation filled with words you don’t understand only left you a confused mess. “Of course, Jamie. ‘Until the end of time,’ remember?” You whisper back.

He keeps quiet.

It’s still 2018, and you’re at an impasse.

You loathe impasses. You may persevere every now and then, but impasses just seem to love you. The saying, “you attract what you fear,” is terrifyingly true. You’re scared of impasses. You know they love to knock you down and kick you until you’re sputtering with blood leaking from the corners of your mouth that rarely ever turn up anymore. But they still occur.

It’s been a year and five months since Bucky came home, and each passing day has its difficulties. Whether it be nightmares, panic attacks or intrusive thoughts. But you’ve been there with him for every step. When he didn’t want to go to therapy alone, you went with him. When he couldn’t sleep after a rather gruesome nightmare, you told him some childhood stories. It feels like nothing has changed, truly.

But Jamie isn’t Jamie — and you don’t know what to do. “Jamie, do you want anything to eat?” You ask him, holding a plate of pancakes you whipped up once you knew nobody would be in the kitchen area. “Is– are those pancakes?” He asks you, turning around from his desk. You nod and look down at the impressive stack. Dr. Cho told you to make sure Bucky continues to eat. Sitting on the small table next to you – the ottoman – is a cup of steaming hot tea.

It’s not orange pekoe, it’s earl grey, Your father loathed it, saying that it’s meant for the elderly even though he had a head full of greys and aching joints. You’d laugh him off, but then pour him a cup of green tea. “Yes, some of them have blueberries,” you tell him, stretching your full arms out at him. You see that look of contemplation in his eyes again. “Would you like to eat with me?” You ask, knowing how he can get when those thoughts pester him.

“Of course, I’m all but a gentleman,” he jokes, and you give him a smile. “That you are, especially when it comes to the ladies,” you add, and he blushes. Bucky looks down and tries to hide the shy smile from you, and you allow him to do so. It’s not like you haven’t memorized every bit of Jamie, even down to the small things. “Is there any syrup? I’ve been craving sweets all morning.” Bucky grabs the second plate and he almost hesitates in grabbing a few pancakes.

You turn back around to get the tea, knowing that Bucky wouldn’t feel as embarrassed with taking food. “Here’s some tea, you don’t have to drink it, though.” You set the filled China cup on the glass table and the clink it gives lasts for a split second. “Remember when we would buy about three boxes of orange pekoe tea? Even though it wasn’t the best — especially since it was for so cheap — we’d still drink it like it was water,” you reminisce to him out loud as you take a pancake off of the stack.

There’s silence, and you swallow thickly. “It’s okay if you don’t remember, Jamie, I myself forget a lot of memories too,” you quickly reassure him, fanning the flames before they could even start to burn. “No, it’s not okay… I’m sorry,” he apologizes, gripping the specially made fork tightly. He hates it. It makes him feel like some sort of danger. Someone that breaks people and things so easily.

“Don’t be sorry, Jamie, or else I’m going to have to start apologizing for things that aren’t my fault,” you threaten him, and he cracks a smile. “Alright, only because I know you’re going to become annoying.” He grabs the syrup and drowns his pancakes with sticky delightfulness. “Yeah…” Your voice is all but monotonous with a hint of sadness.

He probably thinks you’re already annoying, you follow him around all the time… Do you ever let him do other things? Without you? Like hanging out with friends, healing on his own, cooking his own food… You’re so clingy.

“Shut up.”

You only want me to shut up because you know I’m right.

“What are you doing today?” you suddenly ask him. You haven’t dug into your pancakes yet, so you stare at the food in front of you with a strong glare. “Uh, well I’m not sure,” Bucky admits, and you only then realize how much you’ve held him back. “You should hang out with Sam, or Steve, or maybe even accompany Banner in the lab,” you suggest to him, looking at his plate. It’s nearly clean, with some streaks of syrups and a few occasional crumbs.

“Sam’s busy training with Steve, and I know Banner works best without someone hovering over him like a hawk — well, more so a raven. I’ll probably just hang out with ‘Talia, she’s been of great help with my healing.” Bucky takes the tea from your side and slowly sips it. “‘Talia?” you ask him. The name doesn’t ring a bell, but you’re sure that it’s a nickname. “Natasha, she went through something similar as me, so I’m hoping she can give me some advice,” he clarifies quickly.

“Oh, that’ll be great for you,” you exclaim to him. “I know… You don’t mind, do you?” he asks with one of his eyebrows raised. He’s never done that before. “Never. Go enjoy yourself, Jamie,” you urge in a soft voice, looking at him from the brim of his teacup. The sight reminds you of when you first moved away from the city.

The sun was rising in the distance. A few clouds shrewd over the lovely sight, but the yellows and oranges were stronger than the greys. From over the horizon, the sun made its way up to the sky. You watched from the porch with a blanket wrapped around your body. You miss those simpler days.

The ones where the only problems you had were the cold weather and the homework your father had given you. Sheets of paper sat on the table in the living room, with your multiplication tables written on them. Your sevens and eights always messed you up, but your father knew you could do it.

“Do you have any plans for today?” He questions, staring into the half-full cup. “I might go to that huge library Tony has, one of the agents was saying they have these seats called ‘bean bags,’ isn’t that funny?” You let out a harmless giggle, one of those small ones a protagonist would have that would make their love interest swoon. “I’ve sat on one. Not very nice. Natasha and I are the only ones on the team who hates them,” Bucky says as his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek.

The other day, you caught him with a mouthful of blood. It wasn’t from a punch in the face or a knife in the guts.

“Oh, maybe I’ll join you two,” you playfully tell him, wiggling your eyebrows to the best of your abilities. Bucky just stares at you, a small glint of humour in his eyes but it slowly disappears and your smile goes away along with it. “Hm.” He downs the rest of his tea and you wonder how he isn’t wincing with pain from the heat. Oh, right, he’s a super-soldier.

Bucky begins to stand up and moves to take the dishes to the kitchen but you quickly stop him. “It’s alright, I can take it,” you reassure him. Without realizing it, your hand strokes the wrist of his bionic arm. You look up at him and smile, instinctively giving him that look you used to give Winter. Bucky hesitatingly shrinks away from you, and your smile drops. Nononono– Too much…

He smiles and walks out the door, not even sparing you one of those lovely second glances. Sighing, you settle the plates upon each other and the tension leaves the room behind him. You’re careful to avoid the syrup on one of the plates. The feeling of stickiness against your dry, cold hands will be unpleasant.

The thought of it has you shivering. A small electric shock climbs up your spine and you’re glad that nobody is there to watch you shake it off. You carefully pluck the fork from Bucky’s plate and place it next to yours. “Hey, Friday?” you call out into the empty room. “Yes, Mrs. Barnes?” she answers, ready to be at your service.

“What books are there in the library?”

It’s been around 92 days since Jamie told you about him and Natasha, and you can feel reality slip through your fingers.

Bubbles of giggle erupt from the common room. Never in your life would you ever have called a living room the common room, but words always seem to stick. Just like the syrup on these plates that just don’t seem to go away. You don’t mind cleaning up after the heroes. You’re glad.

You have something to occupy yourself with, or else there’d be holes in the floor for your incessant pacing. You run semi-lukewarm water over the plates, hoping the dried syrup would melt. You recall the way your father would terrify you into loathing sweets. He’d show you the way syrup would ‘harden underwater’, and he’d tell you that’s what occurs in your blood.

It’s too bad that a few days later, you learned that blood is thicker than water and the world is filled with nothing but lies. It’s scary, really; trusting someone with your whole life while they toy you around like seeing you be oblivious is a pass time.

Your hands warm up under the water and suddenly you wish you hadn’t left your bed this morning. “Bucky, stop, my face is all red,” Natasha demands through her laughs, and James snorts. “So? I like seeing you red, it’s my favourite colour,” he retorts and Natasha rolls her eyes.

You can’t see the playful, friendly banter, but you can hear it. It makes you smile. You love knowing Jamie is having fun, he deserves it. “Hey, you,” Sam greets, walking into the kitchen. “H- hi, do you need anything?” you ask him, halting your movements.

“No, just got done training those new recruits and I’m already fed up,” he complains and you giggle. You know Sam is being light-hearted, so you don’t take his words too heavily. “Well, a busy man like you needs a big breakfast. There are some pancakes over there, help yourself.”

You wait until he busies himself so that you can continue to wash this plate. You look at it — it’s covered in a mix of suds, syrup and water. You notice there’s a small chip on the edge of the plate and you can’t help but wonder where the piece went. If it were a piece of clothing, you would accuse the washing machine. But it isn’t, so you suppose it just went missing.

You place the plate back in the sink and sigh, before grabbing a sponge. The colours always confuse you. How can two contrasting colours go so well together? It’s beyond you, truly. Maybe your grandmother would’ve known, she always did know a little bit about everything.

Maybe she’d know what’s wrong with you.

You don’t say anything, knowing that you might weird Sam out. You roughly scrub the syrup off and it’s a bit too joyful to see it all gone. “Hey, Sammie,” Natasha chirps, patting her fellow teammate on the shoulder. You halt your movements. “Hey, Nat. Are you doing anything today?” Sam asks her, his eyes following her.

“Other than hanging out with Bucky, no, not really.” She tells him. She stands right next to you, a little too close for your personal liking. She opens up the cupboard and you continue to wash the dishes. You ask yourself if she’s watching you, or if she’s judging you.

Looking up, you accidentally make eye contact with her. You quickly look away and you’re not sure if she does the same. “‘Scuse me,” she whispers, stretching over to the cupboard on the other side. You stare straight at the sink, but your eyes fail to miss the locket that hangs from her neck. It’s slightly opened, and it’s absolutely gorgeous. The gold is slightly aged, perhaps a gift from when she was younger. Or maybe she got it recently, and a battle in the fields damaged it slightly.

On the outside of the locket is an engraving. You squint your eyes to read it, as the shaking from her movements messes up the text. “Until the end of time…” You read in your mind, and you drop the plate in the sink. Everyone in the room flinches and Natasha steps away. Sam stops eating and you’re utterly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you quickly apologize, picking up the plate. It’s not broken at all, but you still feel so guilty.

Natasha looks at you for a brief moment and you look back at her. She darts her eyes to your still hands. If she focuses just a bit more, she could see the way they shake. You look at the locket one more time, trying to see the inside of it. You need to know who’s a photograph she cherishes. You need to know who she cherishes in her heart, until the end of time.

The black and white photo of Jamie moments before he was shipped out reveals itself, and your heart drops.

“Friday?” you call out, setting your book down onto the bed. You place your makeshift bookmark –– a polaroid of Bucky — into the page. “Yes, Mrs. Barnes?” she answers. “Isn’t it a good thing that Jamie is socializing with his teammates?” you ask her, sounding like a worried mother. “It is. It’s just what the doctor prescribed,” she jokes, adding a mechanical laugh to her words. “Well, more so his psychiatrist. Dr. Cho is the doctor he gets his medication from. And his psychiatrist suggested socializing,” she clarifies.

You wonder if she’s against the joke mechanism Tony added to her system.

You laugh, just to ease the tension but it doesn’t do anything since she’s an A.I and you’re the only person in the room. “Thank you for laughing, Mrs. Barnes,” she graciously says as much as she can. “If it’s a good thing, then why do I feel so…?” You trail off because you don’t know any words to describe the emotion you’re feeling. “Anxious?” she completes, and you sigh. “Yes, anxious,” you admit.

“The other day, I was washing the dishes. I could hear James and Natasha laughing. Jamie’s laugh was music to my ears. It was like that song you hear on the radio occasionally, you know? But he doesn’t laugh like that with me, he doesn’t laugh like that with anyone else,” you solemnly tell her. “He spends so much time with Natasha — and usually I wouldn’t mind, I wouldn’t even bat an eye — but it just makes me anxious, Friday.”

Your voice is filled with concern, and Friday herself has never heard you so worried. “She… She had a locket. It was gold and heart-shaped. It had a very special phrase engraved on it, and the picture inside is Jamie.” You swallow thickly as even you can’t fathom the words that are falling past your lips. “I held back from telling you this, but Ms. Romanoff and Mr. Barnes had a past together,” Friday admits.

“Pardon?” you ask incredulously. “Back in Hydra, Mr. Barnes trained Ms. Romanoff. They had secret romantic rendezvous and were in love. Then, when the Red Room and Hydra found out, they were separated,” Friday tells you. “It’s probably why they’re so close, Mrs. Barnes. She’s his most recent relationship before you,” Friday reasons to you. It makes sense, it makes so much sense. “Should I be worried, Friday?” you ask her, smoothing your hands over the sheets that you lay atop of.

“No, Mrs. Barnes. Would you like to know why?” she asks you. “Yes, please,” you whisper, looking down at your hands. They’re sweaty, yet so cold. “Because that was in the past, Mrs. Barnes. Mr. Barnes is in love with you, he’ll love you until the end of time,” Friday sweetly tells you. You smile and then dip your head. Bucky loves you just as much as you love him.

It’s been a month since the talk you and Friday had, and you’re starting to doubt her words.

You lie awake in your bed. Caffeine-provided adrenaline pumps through your veins. This isn’t the first time you’ve stared up at the ceilings since you’ve arrived. Ever since Sam made you a cup of coffee from the new machine Stark bought, the bags under your eyes have gotten worse. You warned Bucky about it and he laughed. Just not as hard as you wanted him to. At least he heeded your advice.

Bucky lays asleep next to you. He lays on his right side, even though laying on his left side would make more sense. Bucky always gets better sleep when he lays on his left. You crack your knuckles quietly, even though you can’t wake him up. He used to be such a light sleeper, only because of the vivid nightmares he would get. You hate when he would get his nightmares. The terrifying images that taunt him would always cause him to have a panic attack.

It’s been over a few months since his last nightmare.

You want to turn on your side so badly–– and you can. But your mind can’t help but make you wonder if he’ll wake up. You look to your side when you hear a snore escaping Bucky’s mouth. You let out a coo, even though you used to think snoring was annoying. Your father’s snores would always bother you. You used to joke and say that one night, he’ll wake the sun up.

You gently turn on your left side and a small part of you hopes he’ll do the same. Maybe then you’ll get some warm cuddles to make your sleep. You shut your eyes because the city lights are far too bright at night. The sheer curtains obviously can’t hide New York’s bustling and liveliness. You slow your breathing down and relax your body. Hopefully, sleep can come to you soon.

Next to you lies Bucky. He’s quite literally in dreamland and he doesn’t want to ever wake up. Everything is so realistic, almost as though he’s living another life when his eyes are closed. He has a smile on his face, one that can charm almost anyone. The last time he had a dream like this wasn’t back in the forties — no. It was last night, and now sleeping is a lot better for Bucky.

Natasha giggles, loudly. It’s a cacophony of different sounds. It’s not fake, like the ones you hear on television. It’s real. It’s so vividly real that it makes his heart swell loudly. He looks to her first, making sure she’s enjoying herself before facing the judging stares from Tony and Rhodey.

His hand is intertwined with hers. He rubs his thumb on her skin and he knows what’s running through her mind. She shoots him a look, one that he chooses to ignore. He gives her a smirk and then brings her hand up to his face. He closes his eyes and presses a kiss on the diamond ring she wears.

The scenery changes.

It’s some time in 1992, and he’s holding onto her tightly. She’s asleep, with her locks of auburn hair spread out against the floor. She lays on his chest, and he makes sure she’s comfortable enough with him. Sure, his spine may ache and his under-eye bags may have deepened but he doesn't care.

“Natalia?” he whispers, checking to see if she’s asleep.

She’s knocked out cold and he’s glad. After what he just put her through, he doesn’t blame her. Hours upon hours of what they both like to call ‘training’ has her sleeping like a baby. He chuckles, and he hopes the rumbles in his chest don’t wake her up.

“Hi, Winter,” she hums, rousing from her sleep.

He curses and she giggles. Natalia rubs the tiredness from her eyes and she stretches as much as her body allows her to. “How long until they come?” she asks him. He looks to the make-shift alarm he stole from a mission and sees an hour marked on it. “One hour, Natalia,” he says.

She hums in delight. “Do you think this one hour will take a while? Or will it go by as fast as light?” she questions. Her accent is heavy, but it’s so beautiful. “Fast. Time well-spent goes by fast,” he tells her. “And how do you know this will be time well-spent?” she looks up at him.

“Time spent with you, is always time well-spent, Natalia.”

You hold your breath. Bucky mumbles sweet nothings to Natalia — Natasha. You want to cry so badly but then again, you don’t want to wake Jamie up from his dark paradise. You try to tell yourself it’s just a dream, that everything will be okay and that there’s nothing to be worried about. But even your thoughts fail to reassure you about the man lying next to you. You don’t know whether you should wake him up, so you bite down on your bottom lip and hope that this whole thing is just a dream.

“Did you sleep well, Jamie?” you ask him, folding his laundry for him. He looks up from the book he’s buried in and nods. “Amazingly, I’m so glad I can finally get some shut-eye now,” he tells you. You hum and Bucky looks at you. “Is everything alright?” he asks. “Yeah. Just peachy,” you say. He mumbles a quick okay and goes back to reading his book.

Jamie has a wonderful attention span, so there’s no reason for him to be stuck on the same page for around ten minutes. You have an idea as to what’s on his mind. Well, more so who. Natasha. “Any weird dreams?” you ask him after a few seconds. This time, you’re pairing up Bucky’s socks. “N– No, I don’t think I dreamt of anything.” He lies through his teeth and you know this because he has a tell.

Whenever he lies, he stares out into the distance. It’s usually to your right, but that doesn’t matter.

“But that’s good, right? No more nightmares.” You hold a pendant in your hand and it’s not yours because you broke your necklace a few days ago.

“That’s true,” he dryly agrees. It has the letter ‘N’ written on it. It seems like it’s new, unlike Natasha’s locket. You place it on the dresser softly. “You know, everything has a meaning. Nightmares, dreams, even dreamless nights,” you start. “I know, some are worse than others, though,” he follows. “Sometimes, nightmares mean change,” you continue.

He nods, but you don’t see it. “When you dream, it might be that you have some wishes or conflicts that have been suppressed,” you sweetly tell him. Bucky looks at you, but your back faces him. “And even not dreaming means something. When you don’t dream, it might mean that your mind is free of all the bad things,” you roughly shut the filled up drawer and Bucky squeezes his eyes shut at the loud sound.

“Sorry…” you sheepishly apologize. “S’ alright,” he smiles. “Well, my burning question relates to that, I guess,” you admit. He raises an eyebrow and you turn around. Your fingers tap against the oak wood of the dresser. Sweat that has built up for the past morning or so leaving an imprint of your fingers on the wood. “Do… Do you remember when you used to call me ‘moonlight’?” you ask nervously.

Bucky pauses whenever small movements he was making and you make direct eye contact with him. You look away immediately, though. “A– As a nickname?” he asks. “Yeah… You’d say it in Russian. There was beautiful reasoning and meaning behind it…” you explain to him. Your voice carries more hope than anything. He stays silent and you shakily exhale.

You know exactly how to pronounce it. “лунный свет.” You look up at him. “I… What was the meaning?” he asks. “I– I have it written down. Just wait, don’t go.” You move towards the bed and reach underneath your mattress. Your father would always hide things like that. Sometimes, you’d catch him placing your works of finger-painting underneath the bed.

You lift it and retrieve your little notebooks. It’s not much, but it’s something. You flip to the page that you wrote on two years ago. You smile once you reach it and turn back around. Jamie hasn’t left. “This page. I wrote it down when you left to go to the market. I remembered each word and I still do,” you cheerfully tell him. He smiles up at you and you hand him the book.

You’re just like moonlight. You’re wise, the brightest of them all. No matter how small you make yourself, you always manage to make everyone marvel at your beauty. You’re mysterious, always a surprise, but only for some. Your aura– your brightness, it never ceases to amaze people. It helps me through the darkest times. The world needs you, I need you.

The words are beautifully written. They’re traced over in black pen and even have little stars scribbled around them. “I said this?” he asks, in an almost incredulous tone. “Yeah, word for word,” you assure him. “This is really sweet, and I probably said this, but I don’t remember calling you moonlight, Doll. I’m sorry…” He sadly admits to you. Your heart drops, but it’s alright. He may not remember it, but you do. Maybe one day he will.

“It’s okay, don’t apologize,” you tell him in a sad tone. You take the notebook back from him and place it underneath the mattress. Jamie watches you as you do so. “Are you sure?” he asks on more time, just to be sure. “I’m sure. Dr. Cho and the others said this is normal, Jamie,” you assure him. “Alright.”

Everything is alright. Everything was alright. Everything will be alright.

You carry the laundry basket against your waist and you can’t lie and say you didn’t just bury your hands between the clothes as soon as they came out of the dryer. The common room is mostly empty. Wanda and Clint are out on a mission. Tony, Rhodey and Pepper are on a trip. Steve and Sam are training recruits. Vision and Bruce are in Dr. Cho’s lab. You assume Natasha is in her room and James is in yours.

But even assumptions can be wrong.

You hear that laugh that’s as soft as summer’s rain — Natasha’s laugh. It’s beautiful, just like her. But you can’t compare her beauty to anything, it’s beyond that. You walk up to the room where you can hear her, and pear through the small crevice the door has. She looks at Bucky with those emerald green eyes of hers. In them is absolute love and adoration.

“лунный свет, you look so pretty when you laugh,” Bucky tells her. She smiles and blushes, before giggling again. “You’re too sweet, Buck,” she whispers. Bucky grabs a hold of her hand, and his thumb rubs against her ivory skin. “Can never be too sweet when it comes to you, лунный свет,” he counters.

Your heart cracks, especially at the seams.

It’s been a week since Jamie called Natasha “лунный свет,” and you’re determined to get him back.

She must know she can have anyone she wants, but you can never love again. Not without him. That’s why you’re wearing a dress you borrowed from Wanda. You bite your red-stained nails nervously. It’s an improvement since your last date night with Jamie. Last time, you both shared a box of macarons that he stole from the grocery store. Underneath the moonlight, he once again professed his love for you. But this time, he gave you his dog tags to wear.

You have them on. They clink with your each and every movement but you don’t mind the sound at all. You spread a blanket onto the wooden floor. It has some similarities to the two sleeping bags you used back then. They were similar colours and took up the same amount of space. You throw some pillows on top, arranging them in a circle. The record player in the corner plays “‘Till the End of Time” by Perry Como.

You hum along to the melody of the song. You remember when Jamie said it was one of his favourites. You jumped in joy because it’s also one of your favourites. You carefully light the candles that are scattered around the room. Friday is already on alert in case one of the flames gets a little too big. You open the box of macarons and place them inside the little circle you have going on.

You set down other food items — such as croissants and a charcuterie board. It was all for cheap, mostly due to the bargaining you did with the old lady at the store. As soon as you dropped the words “date night’, she immediately went with whatever you had to offer. You turn back around and try to search for the scrapbook you have been making for the past two years. You always saved it for something, but that something doesn’t seem to be in your future.

“Where are you, little book?” you ask out loud. Your voice is in a sing-song melody, just like how your father would have his. You search around the dresser. You check in the drawers and the jewelry box but you can’t seem to find it. You decide to check the desk, because if it’s not here then it has to be there. You scan the top of the desk but don't find anything.

Carefully, you grasp the golden handle of one of the drawers and pull it open. The drawer glides easily, and if your father were here, he would’ve marvelled. You don’t find it, so you lift some stray sheets of paper. “Please be here…” You beg out loud. But it doesn’t turn up, and you pout like a little child. You drop the sheets of paper, but something grazes against your finger.

If you weren’t so out of it, you’d probably squeal in fear. Twine that’s pulled at the ends tickles you and you giggle. Your eyes follow to where it comes from, and you find a sealed envelope. You frown out of pure, ingenue curiosity. You pick it up and spin it around in your hands. It’s a beige envelope, one of the many you gifted Bucky on Valentine’s Day.

The twine wraps around it with no useful purpose. Only for the aesthetics. On the back has your name, written in cursive scrawl that belongs to one James Buchanan Barnes. You turn it back around, and carefully open it. Your father taught you that there’s a specific trick for opening envelopes. It was one of the many secrets your family had. And by family, you mean Jamie, your father and your grandmother.

It may not be much, but it’s more than enough.

Inside is a letter. More of Jamie’s handwriting fills your view and you don’t mind it at all. You pull the letter out and unfold it. You start to read it, only taking in the way his handwriting looks. You sit down on his chair and your eyes take in each word.

Dear лунный свет,

I’m sorry. From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry. You can hate me, you can be disgusted with me. You can do whatever you want. But promise me, you won’t let what I’m about to say hurt you. I’m in love with Natasha. I’ve fallen out of love with you and listen, it’s not your fault. How can it be your fault? You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.

But I’m in love with Natasha. I have been for the past year or so. When I saw her again two years ago, something inside me happened. I got butterflies, as stupid as it sounds. She’s everything I want, everything I need. We go way back, and she knows me like the back of her hand. I’m sorry, лунный свет. I am so fucking sorry. I know writing this letter isn’t the best way to do this, but I feel the need to do so.

Love,

James Buchanan Barnes.

You can die right here, right now. You wonder if this is some kind of sick joke Bucky is playing on you, but after sitting there for a few more minutes, you realize it isn’t. Suddenly, the candles burning around you are pointless and so is your entire being of existence. You sit there, stupefied and filled with hurt. You let the letter fall into your lap and slip down to the floor, where it meets the wood with no sound.

The record scratches but you don’t even wince. Now, the voice of Perry Como is all warped and haunted. You hate it. You hate everything. You shut your eyes and sigh quite loudly. She took Jamie from you — your Jamie. Your throat tightens up and you feel like time slows down. You break down, the dam crashing down as the water flows at high pressure. It’s all so much at once. Tears leak from your eyes and drip down to the desk.

You hang your head, almost in shame.

Why are you crying? This was bound to happen.

“Can you just shut up for once?” you cry out.

“Mrs. Barnes, is everything alright?” Friday asks. “Yes, Friday. Do you mind leaving me alone, please?” you politely request. Your voice nearly cracks from the tears. “Of course, Mrs. Barnes,” she says, before dinging away. Mrs. Barnes… You’re not Mrs. Barnes, were you ever? She was always Mrs. Barnes, and she always will be. You let out a choked cough, one that uses all the strength in your body that isn’t destined for your crying.

You look down to the opened drawer and then to the letter on the floor. A groan escapes past your lips. It’s one of pure hurt and pain. You can feel your heart shattering into pieces. Each shard cuts your insides and you struggle to calmly breathe. You grab a sheet of paper from the drawer and pluck the pen that lies on the desk. You take a deep breath and begin to write your heart out.

Natasha,

Please, please don’t do this. I know you may be in love with him (which is the best feeling ever, I know), but please don’t take him just because you can. I also know that nobody can control their feelings. But even love disappears one day, right?

You could have your choice of man, Natasha. But I don’t think I can ever love again. Not without him. If only you could see the way Steve, Sam and Bruce look at you. You can have any of them, so why did you choose Bucky? Why are you taking my Jamie from me?

He dreams about you. He calls your name in his sleep. He calls you moonlight and I’m sure you don’t know the true meaning of it. But if you ask, he’ll probably tell you. This is coming off as rude — I know. It’s not what I want but I want you to ask you one thing only.

Please don’t take him, even though you can.

You scribble your name at the bottom of the page. A tear drops from your eyes and soaks into the paper. You re-read each sentence, and with every word, you hate yourself even more. You throw the pen at the wall, not caring that it breaks at the impact.

You want to send it to her so badly, but your father always told you to never fight fire with fire. Would she even listen to you? Probably not, so why try? Jamie isn’t coming back because Jamie doesn’t love you, he hasn’t for a while. You look away from the letter and to the candles that decorate the room.

You’re so foolish, thinking Jamie could ever love you. He did once, but this isn’t your Jamie. Your Jamie is gone and so is his love for you.

You fold the letter up until you’re satisfied. One end slightly overlaps the other but even the smallest things that would usually bother you doesn’t matter now. Nothing does. You bring the letter to the burning candle and let it light on fire. Along with the paper goes your instinct to fight for the love of your life.

You can never love again. Not without him.

[illegal-spiegel]

“Mr. Coffee-Shop-Hotshot”

Pairing: Hikaru Hitachiin x f!reader Genre: fluff, angst, smut Warnings: jealous and possessive Hikaru, unprotected sex (wrap it up), a dash of degradation, choking, and I think that’s it lmao Summary: You’ve been dating Hikaru since high school but that doesn’t stop him from getting jealous of your coworker at the coffee shop Word Count: 4.1k words  A/N: characters are aged up!! Prompt #72 from my 1k Followers Event: “You’re Mine.”

You and Hikaru have been sweethearts since high school. The thing is, when you two first started dating, no one thought it was going to last, seeing as how you two were literally enemies until Hikaru kissed you to shut you up. After that kiss, you two avoided each other until Kaoru tried talking to you while pretending to be Hikaru. You weren’t blind though. You could tell it was Kaoru instead of his twin. You played along until the end though, only revealing you knew it was really him until he got his point across. His point was “I’m sorry for treating you so poorly. I’m just not very good with feelings and I didn’t know how to face you after the kiss without arguing with you.” You figured that Kaoru wouldn’t say something like that unless Hikaru felt that way himself. So, you grew a pair and talked to Hikaru after he was done with the Host Club. 

“It appears I’m going to be the man in this relationship.” was the first thing you said to him, to which he scoffed at because A. if anyone is going to be the man, it’s him and B. who says you two are in a relationship? 

You just kissed him and that easily proved your point. From then on, you two started dating, to everyone’s surprise. Just because you two were dating though doesn’t mean you two stopped fighting. While everyone else has their honeymoon phase, you two went right to the old married couple stage. They weren’t ever serious fights though. One time you two argued about who had better eyes. Hikaru couldn’t admit to you that it was definitely you and you couldn’t admit to him that it was actually him, so you both claimed that it was yourselves. 

After that phase ended though, you two went into the honeymoon phase, which just confused everyone, including you and Hikaru. Suddenly, him leaving his used cup on your bedside table didn’t bother you anymore. You’ll just bring it down with you when you go downstairs. Hikaru realized that he didn’t mind you having your clothes thrown out in every other direction in his room anymore. His maid will just clean it up anyway. No harm done. 

The honeymoon ‘phase’ was more annoying to everyone than the old married couple phase. Now, instead of you two arguing who wants the last piece of candy, you two are ‘arguing’ about who gets to kiss who last. It makes everyone gag. Honey senpai seems to think it’s really sweet though. 

That was four years ago and now, you two are just as bad now as you were back then. Everyone, luckily and unluckily, decided to go to the same university. It is way out of your price range but that wasn’t going to stop your boyfriend of four years from getting you to go there. “I’ll pay off all your bills, babe. Don’t worry,” he’ll always reassure you despite your worries and nagging. You refuse to let him pay for it all though, so you got a job. 

It was actually pretty easy to nail the job, seeing as how it’s at the coffee shop where you and the gang always went for energy boosters and to study. You were already friends with the manager from going in there so much, so when you asked if they were hiring, they practically hired you on the spot. 

Hikaru didn’t like you having a job though. 

“Why do you even work here? I can pay for everything, babe. You don’t have to worry about it. So why don’t you just quit? I miss hanging out with you,” he complains every time you leave for work, when he shows up to your work, and when you come back to your shared apartment. His argument, in your royal opinion, is stupid. If anything, you see him too much as it is. I mean, you already live with the guy and have half of your classes with him. What more does he want from you?

It took him a month to finally accept the fact that yes, you will pay for things yourself, and no, you are not quitting just because he wants you to. Once he realizes that you can secretly give him free coffee though, not that price ever mattered to him, he was happy. “Okay, but I also want a free muffin,” he finally agreed. 

It was like that for maybe half a year before new problems started to arise. Your boss hired a new guy who you don’t even know the name of yet but, oh, Hikaru hates him already. “I don’t like him. He smells like too much Axe body spray and he has a weird, purple piercing in his eyebrow. And! And, he has a tattoo. A tattoo! Who does he think he is,” Hikaru complains to you while you try to do homework. He had gotten your schedule mixed up and when he went to go see you on your day off, he ran into the new guy. You weren’t surprised that he could tell he’s new since Hikaru is practically there as much as you are. He knows everyone and, of course, everyone loves him. 

Not this guy though, apparently. 

“When he gave me my coffee, it tasted off! Then, I realized, he didn’t add sugar! I didn’t say anything about sugar!” he continues to rant, making you sigh and set your pencil down. You turn to face him now, placing your hand over his and soothingly rubbing your thumb over his smooth skin. 

“Baby, I’m sure it was an accident. He’s new, remember? I’m sure he just forgot to add it,” you reassure, giving his cheek a kiss once he takes a deep breath and lets it all go in one breath. 

“Fine. I guess you’re right. But if he messes up again, I won’t hesitate to say something next time!” You giggle at this and nod your head, giving him a proper kiss this time to relax him even more. 

“Okay, baby. You do that,” you tease before going back to your homework. This, of course, was just not okay. 

“Babe, we’ve been studying for hours. Let’s take a break,” he coos, moving closer to you and starting to place kisses along your neck. You try to ignore him and focus but your boyfriend knows you too well. Knows your body too well. 

“You mean I’ve been studying for hours. You’ve just been talking and playing on your phone,” you tease, a gasp ripping from you when he sucks and nibbles on your sweet spot. You feel him smirk against your skin, his hands coming to squeeze your thighs. 

“Fair point. Makeout with me a little and then, and only then, will I study,” he bargains, making you roll your eyes. 

“Fat chance,” you decline him as you playfully push him away, making him whine loudly. 

“But baby—”

“No. Study and then, and only then, will I makeout with you,” you bargain right back, a smirk of your own coming to your face. 

“You’re wicked,” he says with a dramatic gasp and a hand across his heart. When you don’t reply or even react, he groans before finally picking up his pencil. “Fine! You better take your shirt off too then,” he snaps before focusing on his work. Most of your study sessions go like this. 

The next day at work, the new guy, Ritsu, came in in the middle of your shift. Your boss introduced the two of you once he put his stuff away in his locker, the guy seeming nervous for his next shift today. You smile at him and shake his hand, reassuring him that you’ll help him out today. He seems to relax at this, thanking you before starting to get to work. Whenever he had a question or messed up, you were right there to help him. The day, overall, went pretty smoothly you think. 

At the end of your shifts, he grabs his things from his locker before walking to the front with you. “Do you need a ride home?” he asks as he walks over to his motorcycle. You smile at him but shake your head, taking your phone out of your pocket to check your messages. 

“No, that’s okay. My boyfriend is picking me up and taking me out to dinner. Thank you though!” you reply with a sweet smile, Ritsu flashing you a smile back as he climbs onto his motorcycle. 

“Okay, good. I didn’t want you walking home alone at night. I heard there was a robbery a couple of roads away from here,” he explains as he pulls his helmet on. 

“Oh yeah. It was at the corner gas station. That’s so sweet of you to think of me though. I’ll be sure to let you know if I ever need a ride!” you thank once more. He nods as he turns the vehicle on, bidding you farewell with a salute before pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road. 

You check the time and see that you have a few minutes until your boyfriend gets there. Luckily, he seemed to have left early because, within the next minute, he’s stopping right in front of you. “Well, hello there, good lookin’. Do you need a ride?” he playfully flirts. You hum and pretend to think about it as you walk over to his window. 

“Well, I don’t know. Are you going to show me a good time?” you playfully flirt right back. He hums as he happily lets his eyes trail over your body despite your hideous work clothes. He didn’t seem to mind them though. 

“Oh, you have no idea, baby. Don’t tell my girlfriend though.” You scoff as you burst into a fit of giggles, lightly hitting his arm before going to the passenger side. 

“Well, that depends. Am I prettier than her?” you reply, batting your eyelashes at him as you slide into the car and pull your seatbelt over your body. He hums and nods his head, putting the car in reverse as he replies. 

“Oh, most definitely. She’s like a fat cow,” he jokes, making you scoff and hit him again. 

“I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate you saying such things about her. What if I decide to tell her what you said about her?” you argue, crossing your arms over your chest as if you’re mad at him. You know for a fact that he’d never cheat on you. You always tease him that he’s too obsessed with you. ‘I love you! I’m not obsessed with you! There’s a difference!’ he’d always argue to your joking jab. 

Before he can leave the parking spot, he stops the car to look at you with this new glint in his eyes. “What if I eat you out so good that you can’t even remember your own name, let alone mine?” he whispers right into your ear, his tongue licking around the shell of your ear. You let out a shaky breath, not expecting his sudden change in this little game you two were playing. 

“I doubt you’re any good,” you sass, it lacking the power that you want it to have. He pulls away from the side of your head to make eye contact with you again, his eyes shining with a newfound lust. 

“Well, I’ve only ever been with my girlfriend, so it’s possible. You should hear the way she screams my name though. She’ll cum three times from my mouth and fingers alone before I even give what she really wants inside of her,” he says lowly, your eyes moving to watch his lips as he talks. You press your legs together, already starting to feel arousal bubbling low in your gut. 

“Is she any good in bed?” you decide to ask, bringing the attention off of him. You wait for him to say something along the lines of ‘no, she’s horrible’ but it seems he decides to stop playing your little game all of a sudden. 

“She’s better than good. She sucks me off like I’m a popsicle and she just got out of the desert. She’s always so desperate to unravel me but I never do only because I know it works her up even more. She then starts acting like a brat, trying to get her way. We both know that’s just her way of annoying me to the point that I punish her. Mmhm, her screams sound so good when her face is shoved into our mattress,” he replies, his voice dropping an octave or two. You gulp at this, feeling your panties dampen with your slick. 

“No wonder she’s your girlfriend,” you whisper, your throat suddenly too dry for your liking. He only hums before continuing with his driving, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it once you two get on the road. 

“What do you want to eat? I’m kind of in the mood for Mexican,” he says to you as if he didn’t just make you so horny that the only thing you can think about is having him inside of your mouth instead of food. 

“That sounds fine,” you say softly, trying to think of anything but that. He smirks at the way you sound, which is slightly wrecked, and starts to head in the direction of a Mexican restaurant that you two like. That night ended, of course, with him deep inside of you and grunting out all sorts of deliciously dark things into your ear. 

Things continued on like normal for a while. You went to work but didn’t get to work with Ritsu again for a week, so Hikaru never ran into him again. The day you did work with him though, he seemed to be struggling more than usual. So, when there was a break in customers, you decide to ask him what was up. 

“Sorry. I got into this fight with my girlfriend, Mei, this morning,” he explains, a frown hanging heavy on his face. You nod your head, only too familiar with that feeling. You and Hikaru don’t have serious fights a lot but you, obviously, have them just like every other couple. 

“It’s okay. I understand. Do you want to talk about it? Maybe I can give you my opinion or some advice?” you offer, wanting to help him feel better. He thinks about your offer for a moment before sighing and giving in, starting to tell you everything that had happened that morning. You two occasionally pause to help a customer but always end up focusing back on his situation. As a woman yourself, you look at his story from her point of view and figure out what might be the cause of her frustrations. 

“Okay,” you say once he finishes his story, “I think I see what the problem is.” You then tell him what you think and what he should do to mend their relationship. After hearing your advice, he realized what he did wrong and gets so excited that he hugs you. 

“Thank you so much! It all makes sense now! No wonder she was so upset! You’re seriously a lifesaver! I owe you one!” He hugs you tightly, making you giggle and return the hug. 

“It’s no problem at all,” you reassure. You two pull away when you hear the bell ring, automatic smiles coming to your face to greet your new customer. Your eyes widened when you saw your boyfriend instead though. A very angry and brooding boyfriend at that. “Babe? What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t going to be here for another hour?” you ask confusedly, walking around the counter to give him your usual hug and kiss. 

His eyes are on Ritsu though. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you not want me here? Am I interrupting something?” he snaps, his eyes squinting at Ritsu as he says this. Your brows furrow at his words, stopping in front of him and dropping your arms since it’s obvious that he’s not going to give you a hug. 

“What? Well, I’m working but—”

“Oh, sorry to bother you then. I’ll let you get right back to it,” he snaps, turning his glare to you before leaving without another word. He doesn’t stop or turn around when you call after him either, making you sigh as a frown comes to your face. 

“What’s up with him?” you mumble, trying to think as to why he would be mad. That’s when it hit you. You hugging Ritsu? Did that upset him? But why? You hug guys all of the time. Well, not all of the time. And then again, they’re his friends too or your family. You snap out of your daze when the bell jingles again, signaling a new customer. You sigh and go back behind the counter, smiling and greeting the customer happily. Guess you’ll just have to talk to him about it later then. 

When you get off work and you get back home, you find that Hikaru isn’t home. You think back to what he was telling you yesterday, remembering him telling you his plans for today. You check the time on the microwave before looking at your fridge for any notes. He doesn't have any plans right now that you are aware of and he didn’t leave a note telling you where he was going or when he’ll be back. Maybe there was an emergency? That just makes you worry more though.

You let it go with a heavy exhale, trying not to read too much into it. You don’t have to know where he is every second of every day. 

You go to your bathroom to take a shower and get the smell of coffee off of you. You end up accidentally using his body wash though, the smell of cinnamon and ginger filling your nostrils. It’s not your favorite but it’s what he’s been using for years. He pulls off the smell really well though. 

You step out of the shower and wrap yourself up in a baby blue towel, leaning against the sink to look at your skin in the mirror. After applying some lotion to your body to make you feel extra nice, you leave the bathroom. You stop at the door though when you find Hikaru sitting on the bed, his feet still on the floor and his hands hanging between his knees. Now you’re even more concerned. Normally, he would’ve jumped at the opportunity to take a shower with you but now he won’t even look at you. 

“Hikaru,” you call out softly to him, seeming to bring him out of his daze. You walk over to him and come to stand in between his legs, making him sit up straighter. His eyes glaze over your bare collarbones and neck, something spurring to life in his eyes as water droplets cascade down your soft skin. 

“You’re mine,” he says suddenly, his eyes snapping to yours. Your eyes widen a bit at this random declaration, your brow raising curiously at him. 

“What?” is your brilliant reply to him. You gasp when he stands and switches your positions in a flash, the back of your knees hitting the bed before you fall back onto it. You gape up at him, your hands clinging to the front of your towel. 

“You heard me. You’re mine!” he growls, his hands snagging your towel away from you before you can even attempt to stop him. His eyes wander your body, a dark look in his eyes as he takes his sweet time admiring your naked body. 

“Hikaru,” you breathe his name, goosebumps crawling over your flesh. He hums in response, one of his knees coming to the bed so he can lean over you, his fingers starting to trace random lines and patterns into your skin. 

“That’s right. Say my name, baby,” he coos, his fingers coming to tweak your nipples. You moan his name in response, back arching up into his hands. He watches you with attentive eyes, not daring to look away from your lewd expressions or wet hole for even a second. He loves how quickly you react to his touch, your body always craving his as much as his craves yours. “Who do you belong to?” he asks as he crawls completely over you, staring into your eyes as he lets his hands crawl down your body. 

“You,” you whisper breathlessly. 

“Who?” he growls, suddenly shoving two of his fingers into your drooling heat. 

“You, Hikaru!” you cry, back arching when he slips a third finger in. He hums lowly as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, scraping the pads of his fingers against your g-spot to get you really moaning for him. 

“That’s right, baby. You’re all mine, now and forever,” he whispers before pulling his fingers out, making you whimper. He brings his dry hand up to your throat, squeezing it lightly as he stares into your eyes. “Shut up! Dirty whores like you don’t get to cum until I say so,” he hisses, not letting your neck go as he uses his other hand to remove his pants and boxers. “‘M gonna fill you up, remind you that you only belong to me,” he mumbles, his hand frantically trying to pull his member free. 

Your brows furrow at this as you bring your hands up to his chest. Before you can question him though, he starts to push into you. You both groan in sync as he slips inside, your eyes rolling back into your head for a moment. You forget about his words for now, your brain only thinking about the way he feels inside of you. 

He just barely bottoms out before he’s already pulling back to thrust back in, starting a frantic pace. You moan his name loudly, your nails lightly scratching his chest, causing him to hiss. He keeps up the frenzied pace, your breasts bouncing with each thrust. 

You both cum almost at the same time, Hikaru finally giving you permission to cum after denying you your orgasm over and over again. He keeps true to his word, pushing deep inside of you and coating your walls white. He stays inside of you for a while, his chest heaving as he tries to get air back. He slowly releases your throat, and instead brushes his fingers against your cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his eyes shining with regret. You’re confused for a moment, thinking that that’s some of the best sex you’ve ever had. Then you remember his words from before, how he kept saying you’re his and that no one is going to take you from him. 

“What’s going on, my love?” you whisper, still a little breathless. He looks away from you, starting to worry his lip between his teeth. 

“Don’t leave me for him,” he whispers, and if you weren’t just a couple of inches away from him, you wouldn’t have heard it. He pulls out of you then and moves to lay beside you, putting his back to you. 

“What? Hey. Hey, look at me,” you say worriedly, pushing yourself up onto your elbow as you use your free hand to gently trace random shapes into his back. It takes him a minute but he eventually turns onto his back, staring at the ceiling instead of you. “What’s all this ‘leaving me’ talk about? We’ve been dating for years, Hikaru. Why would I want to leave you for someone else?” you ask with furrowed brows, starting to run your hand through his hair to help soothe him. He leans into your touch, his eyes finally meeting yours. Despite your reassuring words, he looks scared, worried. 

“What about Mr. Coffee-Shop-Hotshot? You seemed to like him a lot,” he grumbles, his mouth turning into a scowl just at the thought of the man. You can’t help but smile at how jealous he is, your heart swelling with the amount of love you hold for the man before you. 

“You dope, he was asking me for advice about his girlfriend. That hug happened because he was thanking me for basically saving his relationship,” you inform, a smirk on your face as you watch the realization come over his face. 

“Oh,” he squeaks out, his face turning sheepish and red. You snort and move to lay your head down on his chest. 

“You’re such an idiot. You should know by now that you’re the one for me, idiot and all,” you tease, gently rubbing his chest and abdomen. He huffs and wraps his arms around you, holding you tightly to him. 

“Whatever. As if you wouldn’t get upset if I was hugging another girl,” he accuses. 

“You act as if another girl would even come near someone as ugly as you,” you tease, obviously joking. 

“Hey!”

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[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (PT.3) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART THREE

Summary

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother. 

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

A/N: A little Iwa and Hoisuke sketch to accompany this chappie ❤ Thank you for all the love and support. My inbox has boomed since I last posted and I’m so grateful that it is being appreciated by y’all :,) <3 

ON TO PART THREE! Let me know what you guys think of this part :) xx

PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART 

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"Miss Y/N! You came!"

Hoisuke has a beam on his face the moment you step into the Iwaizumi household. That slightly calms your jittery nerves as you remove your shoes and step in, balancing the container of cookies in your hand.

"Hi Hoisuke," you greet back with a smile, "I brought your favourite cookies."

"Really?!"

"Really," you hand him the container with a grin, relishing as he oohs and aahs as he gets a whiff of the said baked treats. He beams up at you, "thanks miss Y/N. You're so cool."

"Not as cool as you are," you ruffle his hair and he giggles, before grabbing onto your hand and tugging you inside, "come, Daddy's warming up the pizza."

To be honest, part of you had combusted when you'd read over Iwaizumi's message repeatedly to make sure you weren't reading it wrong. The other part of you was screaming that this was definitely out of bounds and plus, could you consider this to be a sort of date?

No, of course not. Definitely not. He'd invited you over as a friend. And because Hoisuke liked you.

When you put it like that, it stung a little.

As Hoisuke drags you into the living space, you spot Iwaizumi grabbing for beers in the fridge and he nods at you, "hey."

"Hi," you reply, feeling a bit shy.

"The pizzas just got here," he says, chin jerking towards the pizza boxes already set upon the coffee table, surrounded by four plates, "a friend of mine is joining. I hope you don't mind."

"Oh no, not at all."

"Uncle Tooru! He's the best volleyball setter ever!" Hoisuke adds with a clap of his hands, eyes sparkling with excitement, "do you play volleyball miss Y/N?"

"Nope," you singsong, "I can't even catch a ball."

"But you always tell us to do well in PE."

"Do what I tell you and not--"

"Not what you do," Hoisuke sings along and you can't help but laugh before ruffling his hair fondly, "at least I know you're listening in class!"

"I always listen to you, miss Y/N."

"Unlike his father," Iwaizumi points out while walking over to the pair of you and handing you a beer can, "whom he never listens to."

"But you don't listen to me, daddy."

"Wha--yeah I do."

"Noooo uncle Tooru had to beg you to invite miss Y/N over when I told you a hundred times!"

You burst out into a fit of laughter just as Iwaizumi hollers out, "wha--No! That's--"

"Uncle Tooru said that you should man up and invite her otherwise he'll do it himself," his son chatters on, oblivious to the redness rising in his father's ears, "what does man up mean, miss Y/N?"

"Okay that's enough babbling," Iwaizumi's hand shoots out to press down onto Hoisuke's head. He nudges it towards the couch, "bring miss Y/N to the living room. Scoot."

"But--"

"Now." His father scowls. His son scowls back and you try to shove down the round of laughter bubbling up your throat, for they look like the spitting image of each other and they probably don't even know it.

You reach out, tugging Hoisuke by the shoulder, "come on then. What movie are we watching?"

It makes you slightly giddy on the inside to hear such words fall from Hoisuke's mouth. If there's one thing you've learnt from being around children is that they never lie. That, coupled with the way Iwaizumi's face has reddened a deep shade of tomato, is enough to cause a small tingling in your chest.

Since Oikawa is goig to be late, the three of you decide on watching Harry Potter -- Hoisuke's current obsession at the moment -- while munching on too-greasy pizza and washing it down with beer, coke for the minors. It's been a while since you've watched the series, thus finding yourself cheering and hollering along with Hoisuke which feels like you're seeing it for the first time all over again.

Multiple times, Hoisuke would turn and beam up at you, sometimes hugging your right arm and burying his face into your shoulder during action-packed scenes. You'd be lying to say you don't enjoy his warmth sticking to your side, sniffing the soft baby scent of his hair that still clings to him. The smell of childhood filled with innocence and maybe out of impulse, you pull him a little closer.

You're so immersed in the moment to notice the pair of coffee-coloured eyes are gazing at you with growing tenderness.

"Hellooo! Cool and Handsome Uncle Tooru is here!"

You jump at the sudden intruder's voice booming through the apartment, followed by Iwaizumi's scoff upon meeting your eyes. Hoisuke bounds up without delay, rushing to the door while crying out, "uncle Tooru!"

"Hi my beautiful boy!" Oikawa does not hesitate to sweep him up into his arms, kissing his cheek in affection and causing the child to giggle, "how's my favourite person doing? Has iwa-chan been treating you well?"

Hoisuke nods jovially, giggling some more when Oikawa pinches his cheek, "alright alright. You look dashing--oh, Iwa-chan! And this must be the famous Miss Y/N you've both been telling me about?"

You pink at his words but it doesn't faze Hoisuke in the least, "yeah! Isn't she pretty? She's the best teacher ever and her cookies are amazing!"

"H--Hi," you nod at Oikawa shyly, quickly avoiding his gaze to stop yourself from combusting with embarrassment. You've forgotten how beautiful this man actually is even though his reputation preceded him.

"Ahh it's nice to meet you Y/N," he flashes you a sweet smile, causing you to flush right down to your toes while you manage to stutter, "n--nice to meet you too, Oikawa-san."

"I see why Hoisuke and Iwa-chan like you," Oikawa turns to wink at Iwaizumi, "I approve!"

"Shut up Shittykawa," Iwaizumi scowls.

Oikawa gasps mockingly while covering Hoisuke's ears, "Iwa-chan! Not in front of the child and the lady!"

"I said fuck off--"

Oikawa's quick to slap his shoulder, hollering, "no swearing either! Oh gosh, excuse him Y/N. He gets very flamboyant whenever I'm around. If ever he does swear at you, it's just a matter of showing his affection."

You let out a laugh, spurred on by how red Iwaizumi's ears are, "I'll keep that in mind. I didn't know Hoisuke's dad was such a potty mouth," you say, narrowing your eyes playfully at the said man who scowls in return.

"Only when Oikawa's around," he states, crossing his arms over his chest with an expression that mimics his son's sulking.

"What's a potty mouth?" Hoisuke asks as he and Oikawa take their respective seats, the latter swiping a slice of pizza out of Iwaizumi's plate, who growls and kicks at his shin in turn.

The handsome man groans while you turn to Hoisuke, "potty mouth means someone who swears a lot."

"Like daddy?"

"Uhm--" you stutter, his response causing Oikawa to burst out laughing, "yes! What a bright little mind! Totally like your Uncle Tooru!"

Before Iwaizumi can bash Oikawa's head in, you hurriedly resume the movie with the excuse that the best part hasn't come up yet. That simmers down the atmosphere a little, all eyes now captivated by Harry Potter and his friends fighting against the ogre. Hoisuke gasps, nails digging into your arm as he latches on for dear life, all actions not going unnoticed by the pair of men.

"I like her," Oikawa mouths out to Iwaizumi, whose scowl deepens tenfold.

As per what the rumours stated, Oikawa is fun and easy-going to hang out with, a complete stark contrast to his best friend. You understand why people tend to gravitate towards him the more the evening wears on. It’s not just the fact that he puts you at ease and is naturally adept at making conversation, but it’s in the genuine spark of interest in his eyes, a look that says that he’s listening to you even if that might be faked on his part. It’s that expression stating that he cares, that makes you realize why Oikawa Tooru had been such a hotshot back in your high school days. 

So why do your eyes still manage to find their way to the brooding figure on the other side of the couch, who is filled with nothing but spiteful comments and sarcastic responses? 

Oikawa's little 'pssst' snaps your attention back to the present to find the sais man pointing at Hoisuke while mouthing "he's asleep." Indeed, your eyes travel down to Hoisuke's tiny figure slumped against your side and your mouth curves up in an affectionate smile.

You're about to shift him into your arms but Oikawa beats you to it, deftly slipping the boy into his arms and glancing between you and Iwaizumi with that same knowing smile that sets you on edge, "I'll tuck him to bed. Iwa-chan, buy me snacks would you?"

"Hell no--" Iwaizumi starts protesting only for Oikawa to walk out of the room, whistling softly without waiting for an answer. You sigh silently, pressing your lips together and glancing at Iwaizumi from the corner of your eye.

He averts his gaze, but not quickly enough, grunting softly, " wanna go?"

"To the convenience store?"

He nods, already moving to grab his jacket by the door as you scramble to join him while trying not to act so desperate to spend just a little more time with him.

The evening is colder than you'd expect, a mixture of wind and rain that makes him curse slightly while you hurriedly open up your umbrella the moment you step into the street. He nods, mutters a 'thanks' and guides you down the pavement where you jostle your way through evening strollers.

Quite surprised by the amount of movement on the street, you catch yourself asking, "is your neighbourhood always that busy?"

"I think there's a fancy fair around the corner," Iwaizumi sidesteps a man as he speaks, his shoulder brushing yours and sending warmth all the way down to your toes, "give me that."

Without warning, his hand engulfs yours holding the umbrella up and jumping at the contact, you quickly retract your hand, "thanks," you murmur, glad that the dark conceals the red splotches dotting your cheeks.

Your mind races to find something --anything -- to get you out of this awkward predicament. You'd die if he finds out how fast your heart is beating, "so uhm--Oikawa-san seems nice. You still keep in touch with him frequently then?"

"More like I can't get rid of his annoying ass," Iwaizumi mutters.

You chuckle, causing his eyebrow to quirk up, "what's so funny?"

"I'm just wondering whether Hoisuke will turn out like you when he grows up," you can't help but grin up at him, "you have a talent for dissing people."

"Only the ones worthy of my attention."

"Am I not worthy of your attention?" You tease.

He scowls down at you, "you're Hoisuke's teacher, that complicates things."

"In what way?" A passerby suddenly nudges against you and you stumble slightly, only to feel Iwaizumi's arm clasp your shoulder to steady you.

He's warm, your mind chants. And he smells good. Like citrus.

He, on the other hand, doesn't seem to notice your flustered countenance, "watch it," he barks out. Then, he turns back to answer your question, "how do I know you won't make Hoisuke fail his grade if I upset you too much?"

"Woah there mister. I didn't know I was that low on your list."

"That's not what I meant," he growls. A few weeks before might have caused you to fear his temper. But things are different now and you've come to know that it's just in Iwaizumi's nature to be so rough around the edges.

So you just bump your shoulders against him, flash him an understanding grin, and say, "I get it, hothead. No need to get riled up."

"What'd you call me?!"

Bursting into fits of laughter at how easily triggered he gets, you reach up to ruffle his hair, "down, boy--"

And that's when it hits you -- you are touching Iwaizumi's hair. Iwaizumi.

Oh fuck.

Your hand drops like wildfire, body instantly cowering away with a furious blush, "I'm so sorry," you squeak out, "that was not appropriate I know--"

Someone else bumps into your back which knocks you straight into the said man's chest. His hands find your waist on instinct as he steadies you both and for a minute, the world stops moving. Nothing matters, apart from the fact that your face is pressed against his torso, his scent overwhelming your nostrils with bliss, his warmth making you melt ever so slightly.

"Asshole," you hear his dim hiss like an echo in the back of your head. Dazed, your eyes stay glued to his shirt in hopes that he won't notice your embarrassment, "s--sorry about that," you squeak out.

Only then do you feel his gaze slide down to your face. He asks gruffly, "you okay?"

"Fine."

Dear god. Someone kill you now.

"Come on," and before you can protest, you feel his warm hand wrap around your own as he tugs you along, ensuring that you are tucked into his side while he weaves through the throng of people.

You're glad he can't see your face, nor the way your pulse is racing underneath your skin.

And the more you gaze at the strength of his shoulders, the more you are hit by a crumbling realization:

That you might be falling for Iwaizumi Hajime, and that might be the worst decision you’ve made yet.

----

He tells you about his married life when you sit outside the convenience store that evening, about how young and inexperienced he was, and how it had ended on pretty bad terms.

The fact that he even opens up about the topic surprises you, but nevertheless, you want to hope that it's his way of showing that your relationship isn't just tied by Hoosuke.

“Why...” you hesitate slightly, tentative, unsure whether one word will cause him to clam up, “why did it not work out? With you and Hoisuke's mother?” 

It is to be expected that you are met with his silence. It’s stoic and filled with warning, and you quickly scramble for an out, “I’m sorry, that was inconsiderate of me,” you bow your head and bite your lip. 

“She wanted more.” 

His words catch you by surprise. You blink, before looking up at him. He doesn’t look away.

It takes a moment. Then, he murmurs: 

“She wanted more...of everything. Things I couldn’t give her.” 

It stuns you, that he’s so outright. Your mouth opens, but you don’t have anything to say, and you don’t realize that you’re holding your breath until he continues thickly, “she was never satisfied with what I gave her. Always complained that I wasn't enough of a man to sustain a family," he pauses, "I think she was envious. She worked in a big corporation as a financial auditor, and her friends -- well, they all live pretty decent lives. So when we always had our arms full with cleaning up after Hoisuke, they went to get cocktails and eat sushi. I guess she felt like she was missing out somewhere along the line."

It's not the things he says, it's more about the way he says it, voice so thick with emotion that you can hear the tears about to fall from his lips. Your own chest aches with sympathy and your fingers ache to reach out to just hold him.

But you're not that close. You know it's not within your boundaries.

Iwaizumi chuckles before your mind can form a coherent answer, "sorry. Didn't mean for it to get depressive."

You turn to look at him, gaze at the way the streetlight dances over his side profile and down his jawline, "You don't have to say sorry, Iwaizumi-san," pausing and unsure whether you should go on, you decide it's worth the risk, "and while I don't blame her priorities, well, ...was money really such an issue that she left you and Hoisuke behind?"

He shrugs half-hearted, "not my place to say. I was labelled the cheap bastard that wasn't worth shit when she decided to sleep with her ex."

Disgust coils in your stomach, but you decide on letting the anger simmer silently in the pit of your stomach. You don't realize, however, that your fist is clenched so hard into your lap until the warmth of Iwaizumi's fingers flutter over your own.

You look up in surprise only to find his dark orbs searching your face, "hey," he murmurs out quietly, voice surprisingly soft, " s' okay."

You flush against the chilly night air, "sorry," you mumble, "I just-- I know how it feels like. Not to feel like you're enough."

He doesn't respond, only watches you intently. You continue, "my boyfriend cheated on me back in college. I didn't know about it, until six months later."

Iwaizumi sucks in a breath and his fingers tense over yours. Your throat feels scratchy, "so I know the feeling."

"Asshole," is what slips out of his mouth. You chuckle half-heartedly, though with the way he isn't pulling away from your hand makes you feel warm and giddy on the inside.

You'd like to think that this little bit of time spent together has brought you closer, if only to share your woes. But one thing's for sure, you think to yourself as you slowly walk back to Iwaizumi's flat now that the crowd has thinned out, Is that you both have Hoisuke's best interests at heart.

And that is your top priority that you should not forget. Even if you can feel your breath tug in your chest every time your eyes linger a little too long upon each other's.

----

Ha, who the hell were you kidding?

It’s almost impossible to put the certain dark-eyed, dark-haired scowling face of a man out of your mind as the next week comes by. It’s even harder when Hoisuke is more than intent on spending time at your desk in-between classes, chatting on about what he and his father were up to throughout the week. And though you restrain yourself from asking too many questions burning at the back of your tongue, you can’t help but be drawn to the small snippets of Iwaizumi’s life as presented by his son. Even if it’s presented by his son.

So why do you find yourself back in his apartment the very next week with flour all over your clothes ans currently coaching Hoisuke to make figures with his clumsy five-year-old hands?

"This is hard miss Y/N," Hoisuke pouts, arms dropping to his sides, "can't you do it?"

"But that would be no fun," you nudge him playfully as you work on your own little cat figure, "all you need is patience, practice and love."

Glancing at the clock above Hoisuke's head to see that it's already past six in the evening, you wonder where Iwaizumi and Oikawa have disappeared off to. They hadn't told you anything, only that they were picking up some groceries. You guessed it was merely the thought of baking that made them so reticent.

"Don't worry miss Y/N. Daddy's coming back soon," Hoisuke says, as if knowing exactly the thoughts occupying your mind.

"Where did your daddy go anyway?" You decide to play along and ask casually as you move behind Hoisuke to help him mold tiny fingers.

"He and uncle Tooru said that they wanted you to taste the food from the sushi place they love," he then adds casually, almost like an afterthought, "daddy said you looked tired."

He said what now? Your eyebrows shoot up in curiosity.

The sound of the door opening grabs your attention, revealing a dishevelled Oikawa in the doorway with grocery bags hanging from his arms, "we're back with food!"

"Uncle Tooru! Look at the cookie I'm making!" Hoisuke doesn't hesitate to tug onto Oikawa's shirt and drag him to the kitchen counter to marvel at the little misshaped man. Dusting your hands onto your apron and turning to help Iwaizumi, your step falters upon noticing the undecipherable expression shadowing his features.

"Iwaizumi-san?" You blink.

It's gone in a flash, replaced by his usual scowl, "sorry we're late," he murmurs as you help him with the takeaways. You try not to think too much into the way he'd been staring, but your own heart skips a beat at the possibility that maybe--

Stop. You mentally slap yourself. Stop it right there.

Similarly, Iwaizumi is having the exact same mental debate.

Don't get him wrong. There isn't anything he loves about the fact that you've just created havoc in his kitchen. Had he insinuated it when he'd asked about your famous cookie recipe? Maybe. But shit man, call him old and cranky but the amount of cleaning up after the mess in his kitchen is something he isn't looking forward to.

But that small nugget of stress instantly melts away the moment he lays eyes on you and Hoisuke, together. Hoisuke is giggling, you are holding onto his hands, maneuvering them so as to make a semblance of a human limb. You're both dusted with flour, pink in your cheeks, and Iwaizumi swears his heart is going to drop out of his chest.

"Daddy daddy! Wanna see the man me and miss Y/N made?"

"That miss Y/N and I made," you corrected out of impulse, grinning as the child repeated what you saie with no less conviction, and Iwaizumi forced himself to move towards his son with nonchalance, "let me see."

Now that he thinks about it, he shouldn't be inviting you over so casually like it's a weekly thing. And maybe you don't even want to be there. Maybe you're just doing him a favour because you pity him. That's enough to make him sick in his stomach.

But this thought dissipates the more the evening wears on and the more he catches your soft eyes, the motherly affection you radiate towards his child, the gentle giggles falling from your mouth.

Iwaizumi wants it. He wants it so bad his heart aches.

And Oikawa seems to know exactly what he's thinking. Or maybe he's too obvious.

"This is so good," you groan in satisfaction while digging into the takeout sushi. Oikawa doesn't hesitate to pipe up, "right? Iwa-chan literally dragged my butt out of town for th-- fuck!"

He howls, clutching his leg where Iwaizumi had kicked at it in growing irritation and when you look at him in confusion, he feels his face grow red, "don't listen to him."

"Uncle Tooru, you're a bad man. You said the F word," Hoisuke chimes in, "it's okay though, daddy. You don't have to be embarrassed."

The redness of a fire engine can't compare to the flush riding the back of his neck. He wishes for the ground to swallow him at this very inetant, though his lips do quirk up in a smile seeing you burst out laughing before ruffling Hoisuke's hair.

"I see the way you look at her," Oikawa tells him a few nights later upon meeting up at the gym where they both train a few nights a week. It is also one of the few times where Hoisuke stays at his mother's place.

Iwaizumi grunts in response. He turns his head away to focus on his pushups, but if his best friend can deduce from his face alone, then that's an obvious way of showing his embarrassment when he is past the point of denial.

"She likes you too you know," Oikawa casually throws in, wiping the sweat from his face as he straddles a rowing machine, "she's like an open book."

"You don't know that," Iwaizumi hisses as he bends his arms, lift them with another grunt.

"Oh yes I do. And if you're smart you'd do something about it before someone else comes in to swoop her away."

As annoying as he is, Oikawa has a point. The nagging thought eats away at his subconscious mind the more Iwaizumi turns his feelings over in his hands. Despite this, he invites you out with him and his best friend one Saturday night and is mildly surprised that you accept so quickly.

"How have we never met if you went to Aoba Johsai?" Oikawa asks while munching on a french fry. As per his request for greasy comfort food, they'd ended up dragging you to one of their local eateries that make the best burgers in town, "would've noticed a cutie like you."

You can't help but roll your eyes, grinning, "simple, I didn't have any talent. I sang like I was deaf and had two left feet. And don't get me started on sports."

"You could've been a cheerleader," Oikawa smirks evilly, causing you to swat him and reply, "unless I wanted to come out of high school with two broken legs, which I did not."

"Good thing anyway, Iwa-chan hated those cheerleaders with a passion," Oikawa nudges him, "whenever I'd get bombarded with them he'd just scowl and they would scurry off like ants. They were scared shitless!"

"As if you didn't like watching those cheerleaders," you throw Iwaizumi a smug, pointed look with raised eyebrows, to which is scowl deepened. But you're used to it at this point, it doesn't even make you flinch.

"They were annoying and whiny. Why would I like them?" He muttered into his strawberry milkshake. A surprising revelation, considering his bitter, rough countenance.

"Cause they were hot."

"Cause they had long legs."

You and Oikawa blink at each other before you burst out laughing. Iwaizumi merely rolls his eyes, "idiots," but his mouth says otherwise, tugging up in amusement.

"Do you have a girlfriend, Oikawa-san?" You ask aa you munch on your burger.

"Bah, girlfriends don't agree with me."

"He's too much of a playboy to get himself a girlfriend," Iwaizumi mutters loud enough to reach your ears and you snort at the dagger-eyed stare Oikawa throws him, "I can't just give that," he motions towards his figure, "hot bod to anyone, Iwa-chan!"

"Mine's hotter than yours."

"Shut up! Why are you always so mean to me? You know I've been working my ass off for those back muscles!"

Your snort causes your milkshake to spurt from your nose and as Oikawa yelps and scoots furthest away from you, Iwaizumi doesn't hesitate to thrust a bunch of clean napkins in your face, chuckling deeply as he eyes you with the same fond amusement he's been denying himself of in the last few weeks.

Is it selfish? To want more of you than he can have? To feel the naked throb of his fingers that ache to reach out and just tuck your hair behind your ears?

Of course it is. If he does that, he'll cross a line he isn't quite certain he's ready for yet.

Daddy, do you really really like Miss Y/N? Hoisuke's voice is as clear as water that same evening, after he's tucked his son in, after all lights have dimmed in his flat and he sprawls atop his bed with heavy eyelids and a content stomach.

Yes, he thinks to himself as his eyes slowly slip shut, I think I do.

Fuck.

-----

Taglist: @multi-fandom-fanfic, @168-cm-png, @bakugouswh0r3, @yatoatyourservice, @ayocee, @marvel-ing-at-it-all, @astrolcve, @lilith412426, @elianetsantana, @schleepyflocci, @oohlalie , @kaashikoi , @tendo-sxtori , @iwaroses , @its-the-aerieljeane , @lalalemon101 , @lanaxians-2 , @dora-the-grownup , @sharin-gone , @nekomavsnohebi , @crayonwriting , @imafan , @random-fandom-girl-24 , @bucinhajime , @izumikunmy , @iwaoioioi​ , @evesmores​ , @meri-soni-meri-tamanna​ , @paintedstarres​ , @okadaxo , @michaki​

[ellohcee]

I’m baaaack with @jaspvid-week day 3: Hurt/comfort and angst (mainly the hurt/comfort part)

I have... too many mermaid AUs, and this is from my first mer!Jasper fic, with a bit of that down under the cut-

He watches the night sky quietly from the back porch, eyes slowly tracing patterns and constellations in the stars as he sips his cooling tea. It’s late, a sleepless night, warm enough to enjoy the coastal breeze as he listens to the gentle roar of the ocean waves. Even if it can’t coax him to sleep, it’s always so soothing. Absolutely quiet save for the wind and the waves, far away from the noise and lights of the city.

It’s probably close to 2 am when something catches David’s eye and makes his head turn to the beach, leaning forward a little in the creaky old garden chair. There’s something big at the edge of the water, too large to be a fish, maybe a dolphin? It shifts weakly as waves wash past, lethargic, and David’s heart clenches. Whatever is beached on the shore looks hurt, and it only takes a moment of chewing his lip to put the tea down and stand up, heading inside.

He trots through the little seaside cabin and opens the front door, forgoing any shoes to head barefoot down the dirt path that leads to the beach. As he approaches the creature in the light of the full moon, he stops in surprise as he realizes exactly what he’s happened upon. This is no dolphin.

There’s a human torso attached to that large tail. A mermaid.

He’s only seen them in the news, either captured in nets or washed up dead on shore. But he’s never seen one in person and definitely not washed up on his shore. He swallows nervously and approaches, hesitating when the mermaid- merman- shifts and rolls a bit to one side, catching sight of him and making them both freeze.

Those eyes seem the glow in the dark, his face shadowed since the moon is behind him, staring at David in warning.

“Hello,” David calls nervously. “Are you alright?”

The merman stares at him, his gaze unwavering, intense, and David just barely catches the faint tremble in his body, as if he were exhausted. He carefully steps closer, until that tail shifts surprisingly quick and makes a swipe at him, causing David to stumble back. “Nonono, it’s okay, I just- I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to help!” he insists, as that one act seems to sap the merman of his failing strength, the arm he was propped on giving under him.

David eases closer again, holding his hands up in attempt to soothe the merman as those blue eyes lock on him again. “It’s okay, I won’t hurt you,” he insists once more, gently, keeping a careful eye on that tail and the spiky fins running down the sides of it. The merman remains still, breathing heavily, his eyes starting to flutter. David slowly kneels. “Are you hurt? Can I help you?” he asks softly.

The merman is still silent, staring at him for a long moment before rolling onto his back, exposing the large, raw wound on his side, covered in blood and sand. David sucks in a sharp breath at the sight, it looks like a bite of some sort that had gotten mangled in a struggle. “Okay that- that’s bad, that’s serious,” he murmurs frantically, a hand over his mouth at the grisly sight. “Gosh, I can’t- I can’t take you to a hospital, they’ll-” he cuts off in dread, unwilling to even say it. He looks back up at his cabin, mind racing as the merman watches him warily.

David looks back down at him, biting his lip. “I can help you- if you’ll let me,” he says. “That’s my cabin right there,” he adds, pointing over to the house just a ways up the beach. “So you don’t have to go far, and there’s no one there to see you, you’ll be safe,” he insists. “Can I take you there, and I’ll patch up your injury?” he asks, almost pleading. He can’t stand the thought of leaving him out here to die.

The merman stares wordlessly at him for a long moment, before letting his eyes close and giving the barest shrug of his shoulder, as if simply resigning to die one way or the other.

“Okay,” David says, moving closer to the prone body and getting himself situated in a crouch. “I’m going to lift you part way,” he warns, carefully digging his hands between the sand and the man’s back to help him sit upright. He hears a sharp breath, eyebrows furrowing as he sees in better clarity the wound. It looks awful, and he hates to cause the merman more pain, but it has to be done otherwise he’ll surely die.

“Okay, can you hang onto me, around my shoulders?” he asks, moving one hand under the large indigo tail about where the knees would be on a human.

The merman opens his eyes just barely, slowly attempt to move his arms up before wincing.

“I’m sorry, I know you must be in a lot of pain, just as best you can,” David soothes, leaning further down to make it easier.

The merman takes a breath and reaches the rest of the way, managing to hook one arm around the back of David’s shoulders.

“Okay, perfect, you’re doing great,” David says gently, adjusting his hold to be a little more secure as he digs his heels firmly into the sand. “I’m going to lift you on three. One, two, three,” he says, carefully standing at the knees and bringing the merman up with him, letting out a small grunt of effort as he lifts the body further in his arms. He manages to stand up straight, holding the merman close as he turns towards the cabin. He begins to trudge up the beach, his calves already burning from trying not to sink into the sand.

And then, to his surprise, the merman finally speaks.

“Strong, for such a skinny thing,” he mumbles in an exhausted voice.

David glances down at him, finding his eyes closed, face pinched with pain, but even so he still hears the dash of reluctant amusement to his statement. “I have my moments,” he replies softly, unable to muster anything more. He’s too worried about the state of the merman, and how much blood he’s possibly lost so far, how in the world he’s going to treat that wound well enough for it to close and if he’ll make it through the night-

David takes a shaky breath and looks forward to make sure he doesn’t stumble, desperately hoping he’ll be able to help this man.

[thescarletwitchsapprentice]

Sweaters, Snowballs, Cocoa, and Kisses (Wanda Maximoff x ADD!autistic!reader)

*Not my GIF.

Summary: (Y/N) doesn’t like extreme temperature, but Wanda really wants to play in the snow, so do the other Avengers. Along with that, Christmas is coming up. Basically a fluff fic with a small amount of angst.

Request: Not this. I’ve got one, but it’s angsty. I need fluff.

Warnings: Meltdown/shutdown, fluff, a small dash of angst, Christmas, some Hallmark-y sappiness.

Word Count: 2823

Note: Some wintertime fluff in May. Why not? And Pietro and Vision are alive because I say so.

You hate winter.

It’s always so cold and it makes you shiver even thinking about it. All of that cold snow, hypothermia, frostbite, not to mention the slippery ice. You’re so scared you’re gonna fall and break a bone. You’d much rather admire its frosty beauty from within, sipping hot cocoa and wearing comfy pajamas, cuddling up with a loved one, watching old Disney or holiday films.

Your crush, Wanda on the other hand, LOVES winter. And you love her. But shy little ole you hasn’t worked up the courage to talk to her. Every time you try, or even think about trying, you feel the butterflies of love all a-fluttery in your tummy. Your cheeks turn into red roses. (Not literally, of course. That’d be EXTREMELY concerning) You feel yourself stumbling over your words, even in your mind. Not to mention you get weak at the knees. Social skills aren’t exactly your strong suit as it is, so this extra layer is just....it makes you feel embarrassed. 

And no one can blame you. Wanda caught your eye immediately when you first joined the team. She has such a softness about her, even if she seems slightly aloof at times. You’ve heard her playing guitar and singing while passing her room at the compound, and your heart just about stops whenever you do. She has the voice of an angel. Her laugh is made of sunshine and rainbows. Her voice as soft as a marshmallow pillow. So much more inviting than even the beautiful, but biting, winter wind.

Not to mention; Wanda loves wearing fluffy sweaters in December. They always look so soft and warm and.....how you long to just snuggle up against her on a couch by the fire in comfy pajamas and fluffy slippers while watching a cute holiday film or an old Disney film. Maybe even give her a cute little peck on the cheek. But shy little ole you chickens out all the time. 

===============================================

And then one winter day, there are no missions. No training. Nothing.

You’re using your light powers, one of your powers, to decorate the place with Steve and Bucky when Peter bursts in with snow clothes for the whole team.

“Guys!” he exclaims excitedly. “It’s so beautiful outside. We should go out and play!”

As much as you hate the winter, his enthusiasm is contagious. Wanda looks up from her book.

“I love that idea,” she smiles. “Pietro and I used to play in the park whenever it was safe to go out in the winter.”

Her brother zooms inside, startling Peter.

“I heard my name?”

“I was just mentioning how we used to play in that park in Sokovia in the winter,” she says. “Remember? Mama and papa would make sure it was safe before taking us. Even if it was for only a few minutes, it was always so fun.”

“And that one time I hit you square in the face with a snowball?”

“I got your TV night pick after that,” she giggles.

Your mind begins to wander as Wanda and Pietro talk a bit more about winter in Sokovia. You think about just how beautiful, how adorable, how dreamy, how......perfect Wanda is. You’re so distracted that you almost don’t notice Bucky stumbling on the ladder. Luckily Pietro rushes over to stop him from falling. 

“Steve, (Y/N), you two need to be more careful.”

“You’re one to talk about careful, Needy for Speedy,” you joke.

All of a sudden, you hear that cute little giggle. You look to see Wanda smiling at you. Immediately you go weak at the knees and your cheeks are the reddest they’ve ever been. Even your nose is red.

“You’ve got a little something on your face, Rudolph,” “Need for Speedy” jokes back at you, smirking as he sets Bucky down.

“What’s going on?” Nat asks as she enters dressed in casual attire.

“It’s so beautiful outside,” Peter says as he finishes reorganizing the clothing that Pietro startled out of his hands. “I was thinking we should have a snow day! You know? Go outside and play!”

“That sounds kinda cool,” Nat shrugs. “I’m down.”

“Count me in,” Bucky adds.

“I mean, it can’t be colder than the ice I was frozen in,” Steve shrugs.

“I’ll go too,” Pietro agrees.

“I talked to Mr. Stark, Dr. Banner, Clint, and Thor,” Peter tells the rest of you. “And they said they’d be up for it as well. Vision told me he’ll hang back. What about you, (Y/N)?”

“Oh,” you exclaim. “I’m....I’m not a fan of winter.”

“Ah c’mon, kid,” Steve says. “We won’t be out for too long.”

“It’s just....well, I’m sensitive to the really cold and really hot and I’m scared of slipping on the ice,” you admit sheepishly. “It’s okay. I can stay back with Vision.”

“I don’t want you to miss out, though,” Peter tells you. “You’re part of the team. I mean, Vision is too, but I don’t know how he reacts to the snow, so I’m okay with him staying behind if it means he stays safe.”

“When we come back, we could have a movie night and hot cocoa,” Wanda suggests. “One of the best parts of winter is warming up after being out in the cold. If you want, you can hold onto my arm if you’re scared of slipping when we’re walking to the park, (Y/N). And if it gets too cold for you, you can just let me know and I’ll go back to the compound with you.”

You didn’t think your face could glow any redder. You thought wrong. Wanda actually said your name. To you. And she’s offering to help you.

“I, uh....” you stammer. “Wanda, you....you really don’t....you shouldn’t waste....”

“I want to,” she insists kindly. “You seem really sweet.”

Oh Lordy Lordy-Lord....you feel like you’re about to faint. The butterflies are extra fluttery today. Why is an angel like her wasting her time on someone like you? You have no clue. 

“I-I mean, if....if you’re sure....” you stammer on. 

“Of course,” she smiles. “It’s like Peter said. You’re part of the team as well, and I don’t want you to miss out either.”

You nod. 

Maybe a little too much.

“Okay, that’s enough, Bobbly McBobble-Head,” Pietro jokes with a knowing smirk. “Let’s get ready.”

=========================================

Soon enough, you’re all bundled up and on your way to a park just a small walk from the compound. Despite Wanda supporting you, well actually because of Wanda supporting you, you still feel like you’re slipping because you’re so weak at the knees. This leads to you apologizing to her every few seconds.

“You have nothing to apologize for, (Y/N),” she tells you gently.

How is she so patient? How is so sweet? How is she so compassionate and understanding? So many questions like this plague your mind as you slip to the park. When you arrive, everyone else is getting right to playing. Nat, Steve, Pietro, and Bucky are all in an intense snowball fight. Tony and Peter are building a snowman together. Clint and Bruce are sliding down the hill on sleds. 

“I think I’m going to make some snow angels,” Wanda muses.

“But you’re an angel already.”

The phrase somehow slips out of your mouth and into her ear. Her face turns red and she giggles, her nose scrunching up.

“I was right. You are sweet, (Y/N).”

You’re like a snowman in summer, about to melt at any moment. Wanda helps you get onto solid and steady ground before heading off to make snow angels. For several moments, you just stand there. Here you are, out in the cold, because an angel of a woman wants to make sure you’re included in the team. The thought is just.....surreal.

You end up kind of just walking and standing around for a while. You’re extremely worried about how you’re going to react to the snow if you sit in it, let alone lay down in it. You end up kind of just drifting off into a walking daydream; one day, you want to work up the courage to admit your feelings to her. You’re worried about being rejected, but at the same time, you don’t want to lose that chance. There’s always a chance that she might have feelings for you as well. There’s always a chance.

“Yeah,” you say to yourself. “There’s always a cha--”

THWACK!

A stinging burst of cold hits you square in the face and brings you out of your thoughts. You find your vision obscured by snow. Immediately you go into a panic. Your chest tightens up and your breathing becomes shallow and rapid, your heart beating wildly. Tears well up in your eyes. Instinctively you drop to the ground and begin to rock as you hear footsteps rush over.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” you hear Bucky exclaim. “I swear I didn’t mean to hit you.”

You wince and make a small squeak as he tries to put his hand on your shoulder. 

I wanna go back, I wanna go back, I wanna go back.

“Back up,” you hear Nat tell them. “Give them some space.”

“Wanna go, wanna go, wanna go,” you repeat as you rock.

Then you remember. 

“And if it gets too cold for you, you can just let me know and I’ll go back to the compound with you.”

“Wanda!” you cry out, your tears almost freezing to your face. “Wanda!”

In moments she’s at your side. 

“It’s going to be okay, (Y/N),” she tells you gently. “It’s going to be okay.”

You finally brush the snow off your face, but the experience has still left you feeling panicky.

“Wanna go, wanna go, wanna go,” you repeat.

“We can go back to the compound,” Wanda assures you. “Come on. I’ll take you back.”

You blink out the snow that remains in your eyes and reach a hand out to Wanda. She gently takes it and helps you up. 

“(Y/N), I-” Bucky begins.

“Bucky, I don’t think this is the time,” Clint says. “They’re clearly overwhelmed.”

Wanda leads you out of the park, trying to make sure you two get back as quickly and safely as possible.

==================================

The two of you arrive and take the elevator. Wanda helps you out of your snow clothes.

“Is there anything else I can do to help?” she asks you.

“Cocoa, cocoa, cocoa,” you repeat as you take off your snowpants.

“I’ll get started on it,” Wanda tells you.

Once the snow clothes are off, you head to your room and throw off your clothes, changing into warm pajamas and fluffy slippers. You impulsively rub your arms to get the heat back in them, and you place a warm wash cloth on your face, the tears still rolling down your face.

You flop onto your bed and let the silence and warmth cover you. It’s not too hot, but it’s definitely not freezing-cold. That’s when the realization hits you. Wanda Maximoff, your crush, walked you back to the compound and is doing what she can to help you through your sensory overload. And now it’s just you and her in the compound.

Well, it’s actually you two and Vision, but he was staying back anyway. 

About half an hour later, there’s a knock on the door.

“(Y/N)? I’ve got your hot cocoa ready.”

It’s Wanda. Your heart is pounding fast and the butterflies have returned. Trying not to get weak at the knees, you wobble over and open the door. There’s Wanda with a mug of hot cocoa and a plate of something. And she’s wearing one of her fluffy sweaters; this one is holiday-red and has a snowflake on the front.

“You okay?” she asks. 

You nod. 

“Y-yeah.”

Your cheeks turn absolutely rose-red.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “It seems like you just get so wobbly around me.”

So she has noticed! 

“I....Wanda, I.....I’m....” you stammer. 

She smiles kindly.

“How about we go to the lounge and talk?”

You nod again, and the two of you head to the lounge, decked out in holiday decor. Wanda sets the hot cocoa and plate, which you now see is full of Christmas cookies, on the table and sits on the couch. You wobble to a spot next to her and sits down. For a few moments, you say nothing. The butterflies are at maximum flutter by now. 

“Just tell her, you blushing idiot!” you think to yourself. “Just tell her that you’re in love with her!”

You gulp.

“W-wanda?” you ask.

“Hm?” she responds curiously.

You try to gather up what to say. 

“Um.....I.....I’m.....you.....with.....love.....in.....” you begin, stumbling. “For a.....been...long time.....in love....I’ve.....with you.”

Wanda smiles kindly.

“I know,” she says matter of factly.

This somehow comes as a shock to you.

“How.....?”

“I’m a telepath.”

You mentally facepalm yourself. Of course! How could you forget?

“I think....no, I’m almost certain that I’m in love with you too,” she replies. “I’ve seen you interacting with the others and you’re just so sweet and shy and adorable.”

The color returns to your face with a blush. 

“You....you really are? Why didn’t you say anything?”

She shrugs. 

“I guess I wanted to hear it be said in your real voice. And I suppose I was a little nervous to approach you.”

“You? Nervous? To approach me?”

Wanda nods. 

“Do you want to cuddle with me?” she asks.

You nod, moving in timidly. Thankfully Wanda lets you take your time and you slowly lean in close until your face grazes her sweater. Your head immediately drops on it, beaming. It’s even softer than it looks. Wanda smiles at you as she offers you a blanket, which you graciously accept. 

“So....are we, like, a thing?” you ask her.

“Do you want to be?” she asks.

You glance away, feeling shy and nod slightly.

“Yeah....I’ve been in love with you for a long time now.”

“Then we’ll be a couple.”

Your heart is beating wildly, all sorts of happy thoughts flying through your heart and your head. You and Wanda cuddle on the couch for a while when something catches your eye. You look to the ceiling, and right above you and Wanda, is a sprig of mistletoe. She notices and looks up.

“Oh!” she exclaims smiling, her face turning red.

You two look at each other, both of your faces rose-red. 

“Oh my.”

You hear Vision’s voice and turn to see him entering with another plate of cookies. 

“I’ve heard that mistletoe is used to ward off witches and demons. Also that lovers are to kiss under the mistletoe.”

“That’s what I’ve heard,” you shrug, trying to stay calm. 

“Steve told me to hang it there,” Vision admits. “I have to wonder if he knew this would happen.”

Wanda giggles again.

“I imagine he knew something would happen.”

She glances to you.

“Do you....want to?”

Can your face get any redder? Apparently. You nod hesitantly, leaning forward, uncertain of how to approach this. After some blushing and contemplation, you decide to just go for it and give her a sweet peck on the lips. You feel fluttery and on Cloud Nine. Wanda leans in and gently places a kiss on your lips, longer than a peck. You can taste a small scent of frosting, almost as sweet as she is. Slowly she pulls back. 

“I love you so much,” she replies softly with a gentle smile.

You turn your face away, but she gently guides it back. 

“No need to hide,” she assures you. “I love to see your beautiful face.”

The two of you look at each other for a while.

“I...I love you even more,” you reply.

“No, I love you more,” she giggles, booping your nose.

It twitches like a little bunny rabbit’s in response. 

“No, I love you more,” you smile, booping hers in return, and she also twitches it like a little bunny rabbit’s nose.

“No, I love you more.”

“No, I love you more.”

“I love you to the ends of the earth.”

“I love you to the moon and back.”

“I love you to the moon and back times one-hundred.”

“I love you to the moon and back times one-thousand!”

“I love you to the moon and back times one-million!”

“I love you to Pluto and back times one-billion!”

“I love you to the ends of the multiverse and beyond!”

This goes on for some time. Sure, it’s sappy, but you love it. You two end up in a fit of giggles and nose-booping before turning on some classic Disney films and cuddling up close. By the time the others return, you and Wanda are falling asleep to The Winnie-the-Pooh Movie with you leaning your head on her sweater and smiling. 

The others may know that you and Wanda are a thing. But how you two became a couple? That’s between you and her. 

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[twst-campos13]

headcanons for Rook, Malleus, Silver, and Vil when their m!s/o jumps on their back biting their head screaming nonsense like a mad man. the first year gang coming running and one explains wheezing “mistake in potions, physical capabilities inhanced, out of control, immune to magic, help”

the rest of the day is spent with literally all the twst boys chasing after their insane boyfriend. tears were shed, dignity lost, pride scratched.

by the time he’s caught it’s nearly midnight and none of them know what’s real anymore since he kept screaming very philosophical things.

i await your answer with anticipation~

*weakly grips you,,,* 

it is...finished....i will leave most of my commentary in the notes...also please read the warning tags carefully! 

Warnings: language, mild physical violence, implicit dementia (Vil’s part!), poison, blood, depiction/description of death, goofy’s trial dialogue (Vil’s part), mild gun threat (Vil’s part) << no actual guns were present but was mentioned Tags: male!reader, angst, crackfic

This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Ace started it. Deuce aided. Epel volunteered. Jack said it was a bad idea and Sebek warned them. Yet in the end—in the end—they contributed. They helped. And when the smoke cleared from the explosion that shattered the laboratory's windows, beakers, and test tubes, spilling chemicals on the ground—on you—it was too late for Crewel to protect you. For your friends to protect you.

Grim called your name. Once. Twice. Thrice in a yowl of panic as Deuce held him back and carried him away when he tried to get closer to your unmoving body; it's laying in a puddle of liquid. Black? Brown? Gray? He doesn't know the colors—how doesn't know what's happening—he doesn't know and he doesn't care because he just wants you to be safe.

Ace couldn't speak. Deuce couldn't move. Epel started shaking but hid behind a mask of control. Jack's ears and tail were erratic and Sebek broke the silence with a firm command of retreating. Let the professor handle this. Let the adult handle it.

Then you moved.

They watched you rose from the ground like a corpse from the grave.

And hell breaks loose.

➸ Why did you bite his head and messed his hair up

➸ He got no time for games, fool

➸ KIDDING

➸ Granted you did jump at Vil when his Flying Class was done. It startled him and shocked everybody. His face flared because he thought your surprise hugs had gotten too far. It took Mr. Ashton and a few of his classmates to get you off him. He's pretty sure you managed to tear off a few hairs from his scalp—and skin apparently because he felt blood drip down his lashes. 

➸ Okay, that's not normal behavior for you-

➸ You were more than disheveled; your lab coat was torn and singed, blood was seeping from your clothes, and you had a dazed look. Vil fixed himself immediately, of course, but it's natural for him to get worried about you. You looked awful. Vil was sure the chemicals splattered on your skin and uniform was what was making you disoriented. What are these fools doing still holding onto you? You should be taken to the infirmary this instance! 

➸ Vil wasn't prepared for what you did next. The moment Mr. Ashton held your shoulders to lead you to the infirmary, you knocked him out with an elbow strike. What the fuck.

➸ Okay, obviously, you're defensive. Vil took out his pen and—along with a few other students and the professor??—tried to restrain you. Vil was careful not to cast any harmful spells on you but for some reason, the professor and the other seniors seem to go off on casting advanced spells that could quite literally kill you! Du spinnst wohl are they insane?

➸ It took a lot from Vil to not be hysterical. Panicking will not do him any good but having to witness you get blasted by magic and only shake it off while maddeningly laughing is frustrating. He couldn't bear the sight of seeing you get hurt and argued loudly with one of the seniors to go easy on you. The fact that you were spouting nonsense doesn't help your situation at all, especially when you declared this, "ah-hyuck! I'll fucking shoot 'em again."

➸ "Love, will you please cooperate!" was what Vil wished to say, but seeing you in this state brought a jab of pain in his heart. The familiarity of this situation—the confusion, the frustration, the worry, the pain—adds up to the pressure and desperation of just saving you from whatever the fuck this is. 

➸ Vil doesn't even want to look at himself in the mirror. He fears that he'll end up breaking the mirror from what he'll see, but he's pretty sure, with the fight and the chase you're giving everyone, that his makeup is running and his hair is a mess. Amidst nausea and chaos, Vil came up with a solution to restrain you. So, gathering what is left of his dignity and pride, and his love for you, Vil wiped the sweat and smudged makeup off his face and ran back to Pomefiore.

➸ Don't ask why he has a ready-made collection of poisons. Just don't. It's for emergencies—such as this. 

➸ Rook found him hunched over his table with the vials of poison. He calmed Vil down and assured him that you'll be alright. The only fear that Vil has is losing another person he cares about—that includes you. Rook kissed his hand and told him he will bring the poison to you. Rook knows how much you mean to Vil, and because of his devotion to his roi de poison, he will do whatever he can to ensure your safety for Vil's sanity.

➸ Rook advised Vil not to come with him, but he wants to. Vil wants to be able to hold you in his arms and be the first to make sure that you're okay. 

➸ When the deed has been done, Vil rushed to your side. He expected your body to be as cold as a corpse but still, it shocked him. He ignored the whisper of doubt and tended to the wound Rook made to put you to sleep. You've been taken to the infirmary along with everyone else that you caused inconvenience. Vil didn't come for the anxiety settled with the fatigue in his body.

➸ When Vil came back to the Pomefiore common room, sluggish and tired, he found Rook holding Epel's shoulder. The little potato couldn't look at him in the eye and frankly, Vil just wanted to spend some time in his quarters. However, Epel's confessed, and a little bit of energy came back to Vil so he can process what the little potato said to him.

➸ He what.

➸ His hand sprung up instinctively and Epel flinched. But Vil knew this wouldn't undo what happened. He knew it isn't worth it. Vil doesn't have the strength to be angry or blame Epel. It was a mistake, after all. A very stupid mistake. Epel looked pitiful crying for forgiveness so Vil asked Rook to send him back to his room.

➸ It's proven enough just how Vil cares about you.

Vil sat down in front of his vanity table. He could not bear to look at himself in the mirror. All he could do is stare blankly at nothing. Your words made no sense and Vil feared the worst when you wake up. If you wake up.

"Great Sevens..." he muttered and wiped the tears that fell from his face. He knew what he had to do next. He just had to be prepared for it.

➸  Imagine Rook saying "oh mon Dieu" with the most neutral face and surprised eyes as if the explosion was just a mild inconvenience. 

➸  POV: you're Trey Clover 

➸  He and Trey were just cleaning around in the greenhouse when the explosion occurred. Rook knows that you have a special assignment with your friends. You didn't tell him what it is but he doesn't need you to. (He overheard Epel and Ace chill he respects you enough as his boyfriend to not pry into your private life via stalking)

- ➸ He wasted no time dashing to the potions lab. Being a hunter makes you very quickly as well as expecting the unexpected. However, he didn't expect the First Year Gang to be thrown out of the door and you emerge from the smoke as if you were some sort of ravaging beast. 

➸  If you weren't obviously covered in soot and blood, Rook would have fainted from the beauty and badassery you're currently conveying. 

➸  Now is not the time to be in awe—you jumped wall to wall with a speed faster than a cheetah's and Rook was able to deflect your attack by sidestepping. However, a few students got injured in the process. Rook saw your intention despite Monsieur Heart warning the students to not get in the way, lest they hurt themselves. You had no intention to harm—only run. 

➸  Rook has two options: follow you empty-handed or grab his bow and risk losing you

➸  He's confident in his skills in finding you, so he chose to gather information first. By that, well, pulling Epel to the side to calm him down then ask him what happened. Rook managed to understand the situation despite Epel shaking like a leaf. He doesn't feel angry. Such emotion would only intensify his instincts and he might do something that will put you and everyone else in harm more. So instead he thanked Epel, gave his head a pat, and quickly dashed to his locker for his bow and arrows. 

➸  Your boyfriend is a madman before you, for he immediately knows where you were after getting his bow. Rook attained higher heights for a better view and from the roof, he saw your figure dashing towards the forest. Ah, so your instincts led you to where you wish to be. Alright, this isn't Rook's first hunt. 

➸  When everyone else had trouble tracking you down, Rook doesn't. He reminded himself that you're not in the right mind. His monsieur filou is akin to a startled, confused, and defensive wild animal at the moment. Like a little rat, he supposed. Your movements aren't that hard to decipher for a hunter like him plus he can hear your kitchen philosophy from a mile away. 

➸  He has to apologize to Vil for taking a few vials of ready-made poison. But this is a matter of life and death. You are in danger from yourself, and as your knight, Rook will save you. Quiet as he can, he laced the tip of his arrow with the poison and aimed it at you. Rook closed his eyes and reminded himself that he is doing this to save you; not to harm you. 

➸  He notched his arrow—and you caught it with your bare. Fucking. Hand. SINGLE HAND!!

➸  Rook, internally: holy shit that was hot 

➸  Well his covers have been blown and you waved the arrow around screaming something about "I trusted you little guy!" before throwing the arrow with such accuracy while saying "go and take your little mice friend family rat with you!"

➸  Mon Dieu, he does not appreciate being called a rat!

➸  The chase continued and you quite gave everyone a workout. As much as Rook appreciated the stimulating experience you gave him, he much rather wants you subdued and safe, not running around with so many people after you. Luckily, Vil came in and gave him a new vial that is much more potent than the one he stole. He is amazed by the preparedness of his roi de poison but he is much concerned at the potency of the poison. 

➸  Vil strictly stared at him and nodded at the new direction you ran to. "With his state like that, you need to take the risks." Rook took his advice. Vil is always sharp as a dagger after all.

➸  Which means he had to use a dagger than an arrow to subdue you. Yes, Rook took the risk of having the poison close to him and closer to you in a 1 v 1 scuffle. Ah, this took him back to when he wrestled his first bear. Except the bear is his boyfriend and you're still quite human...and he's going to drive the blade of his dagger in a non-critical part of your body.

➸  Finally, the drama ended, and the curtains closed when your body fell into his arms. Your blood trickles into a small stream from where he drove the blade in. Rook knelt to the ground and cradled your body in his arms. Sweat dripped everywhere on his skin but he doesn't care about that. He cares about you. 

➸  Rook reminded himself that you can be cured of your sleep-like death and prioritized the wound that he engraved on your skin. He kissed the place where he stabbed you and solemnly apologized for defacing your body. Worry not, he will have you stitched in the infirmary, and you will awaken with his kiss...atleast he hoped you will. 

➸  Epel was waiting there when Rook brought you in. The poor boy had been crying and he apologized to Rook for the mistake he had done. Rook felt no anger and instead felt sympathy. He too had done his fair share of mistakes, and Epel should not burden himself with those. Instead, he told him, take this as a learning experience as to not do it again.

➸  Rook saved Epel from Vil's harsh scolding. Now, the only one that needs saving, is you.

Even in a sleep-like death, you are still beautiful. Your pale skin is a worrying sight to many but Rook managed to calm himself by admiring it instead. Your body is like marble with blue veins spreading in varied directions.

Rook knew he cannot distract himself by admiring you like a statue of art. You are an art, not a statue. Only histories remain as statues—and you will not become history. He knew what he had to do.

"Oh, mon filou," he whispered against your cold lips, "forgive me."

➸ Just a reminder: Malleus cares for you deeply :))

➸ He was just minding his own business when you suddenly attacked him from behind. Malleus thought you were just being your usual self and lifted his head so you'd let go of his horns. But you didn't and instead, you pulled on it harder that it startled him. He knows how strong you are—meaning something is wrong-

➸ You had quite the vice grip on his horns even when he used his tail to try and pry you off and even shake you off. He didn't want to use his entire strength to throw you but the moment his skin broke under your nails, his instincts came in first, and he threw you across the hallway. 

➸ Malleus was horrified. He didn't mean to throw you much less even hurt you. The panic got to him faster than the pain on his head as he rushed to where you flew. Was it possible to feel overwhelming fear? When Malleus' saw the outline of your figure cut clean on the window, he felt something more than fear. If he had lost you and it was his fault, then his promises for you are broken. 

➸ Then he spots your hand reach through the hole in the window. And you pulled yourself up and through the hole before dropping to the floor like a ragdoll. You were covered in bruises and cuts. Malleus feared that you have a concussion as well for you were muttering loudly about the stars melting and the Moores burning.

➸ Well, Malleus could worry about that later. You were injured and disoriented. The amount of blood coming out of you is increasing and his priority is getting you to safety. 

➸ However, just before he can scoop you in his arms, his knights came to his side. Silver looked like he'd been roused from his sleep as Sebek is disheveled. He made a firm declaration of protecting the Young Master, and that would have been normal for Sebek...if he was standing proud and tall as he said it. Malleus could easily smell the anxiety and lingering guilt from the young fae. 

➸ Things got even more concerning as Professor Crewel, Crowley, a few senior students, and Sebek's friends joined in. Malleus looked back at you and saw your cornered state. He doesn't understand what's happening yet but one thing is for sure—you're equally terrified as he is. Everyone was on guard, the Headmaster and the Professor spoke to you as if you were a wild animal—which you were—but all Malleus could think of is grabbing you and flying you away to safety.

➸ Which he did do despite public opinions

➸ By public opinions, the shouts of protests that soon fell quiet when he grabbed you and disappeared...also the "protest" falling from you which Malleus couldn't really understand. It was philosophy and poetry and a prophecy that he can comprehend little; for all Malleus cares about is you.

➸ "My dear, please, what had happened to you?" The desperation was painfully obvious in his tone as he restrained you with advanced magic. Yet as he tried to call you out of your subconscious he realized that magic is futile. Whatever state you are in you are able to break free from his magic. Malleus stayed on the defense as you attacked him, yet he recognized your attempts of attacking as desperation for help. If you crying and wailing out "save me" and "free me" isn't enough to give it away.

➸ No matter how many cuts you give him, no matter how much he will bleed, Malleus refused to fight you. 

➸ He just wants you to be okay :((

➸  Malleus knew what he had to do but he doesn't know if he had the strength to do it. Your face streaked with tears and pain pushed his heart to do it anyway. So, Malleus shoved you away with a quick pulse of magic, just enough time for him to summon his staff. He blocked your mouth from biting his neck with his arm, and even if it hurts, seeing your eyes begging to be saved hurts more. 

➸ When Lilia and the others found him, he was cradling your body in his arms. His staff laid on the ground and his tears dripped down your face like a fickle rain. Lilia didn't need an answer to know what he had done. 

➸ Malleus pulled your unconscious body close to him, hoping—desperate—to feel your warmth. But he couldn't. He couldn't hear your pulse, your heartbeat, and he couldn't feel your warmth. All he could feel is cold and numbness. But atleast you are at rest. You are saved. You're okay. You're okay, you're okay, you're okay.

➸ But he knows deep down that you're not. Because if you are okay, he wouldn't be noiselessly crying and clinging to your body as if you just died. You're alive but you're also dead. Knowing the cure for this dilemma tore his heart to pieces because deep down Malleus is still afraid. He feels like he lost you even though the truth isn't far from it. 

➸ Your words echoed in his mind before he hit you with his Unique Magic. You started hissing and wailing and finally, you raised your arms in the air and shouted, "this curse will last till the end of time—no power on earth can change it!" 

➸ Can you blame him for putting you in a sleep-like death, a sleep which you will never awaken unless by True Love's Kiss? He panicked :((

➸ Malleus kept your body close to him even when he stood up and looked at Sebek bowing deeply on the ground. He was shaking but his tone was loud enough for Malleus to have an understanding of the matter and of Sebek's apology. 

➸ Hearing that he was an accomplice of what happened to you gave him mixed emotions. 

➸ Sebek vowed his loyalty to Malleus, and when you came into his life, Sebek vowed to protect you as well. And he failed. That is very clear. The poor boy must be getting gnawed inside out with guilt. Well, Sebek did say that he will accept whatever punishment that is will befall him. He should stay true to his words because Malleus is furious. 

➸ Malleus vowed to protect you and raise Hellfire to whoever will cause you harm. He wanted to curse him, burn him on where he stands, and make him pay for what he had done unto you. He could do all of these for he can.

➸ But Malleus won't. He won't do those things to Sebek. He held himself back, swallowed the anger, remained in control of himself in front of the pitiful boy. Sebek is your friend. Sebek is his family. In the end, despite his loyalty, despite his duty, Sebek is still a kid. And Malleus knows that. He won't let this burden the young boy despite him taking full responsibility for the situation.

➸ But Malleus doesn't have the words to say what he wants to say. Instead, he told Sebek to rise from his feet and wordlessly left to bring you to the infirmary. 

➸ In the end, what matters most is you.

Your words remain in his mind to echo along with the voices of his fears. Malleus wished to feel the warmth of your hand again, for when he grasped it by your bedside he could feel nothing.

True Love's Kiss can wake you. True Love's Kiss. But do such a thing exist in Twisted Wonderland? Of course, it does, Malleus, of course, it does. However, seeing your pale lips are more of a dreadful reminder than a hopeful invitation.

The fear settled in his stomach along with his insecurities. Malleus cannot lose you. He can live without you, but he does not want to.

➸ Homeboy was just sleeping under the tree,,, he didn't hear the explosion go off or even heard you running at him at full speed

➸ By that, well, running at inhumane speed and pouncing right on him like a rabid animal.

➸ He woke right up when he felt the pain immediately. It was like getting hit with a spine of a book—it jostled him enough to wake him, at least, and the adrenaline rushing through him was enough to knock you off. Silver didn't have time to get what the fuck was happening but thank the Sevens he was trained enough to be quick-footed. 

➸ He had time to grab his baton but he didn't have time to block your pounce. And damn you hit like a truck! Silver had to use his baton to block your face even if your entire weight was pressing down at him. There was something definitely wrong with you—and it's not just the look in your eyes-

➸ "What's gotten into you?!" the sudden shout made you calm down—thankfully—and Silver thought you're fine again. You looked at him blankly and the anxiety nipped at his skin. "Are you talking to me?" ????? Who else is he talking to??? 

➸ When he talked to you, like, yes dear I'm talking to you, your face contorted into something akin to bashfulness—the tipsy kind of bashfulness. The next thing you said confused and worried him more: "Mrs. Robinsons...you're seducing me."

➸ ???? Who the fuck is Mrs. Robinsons???

➸ Well, Silver doesn't have time to think what kind of enchantment table language you're daying because you're suddenly thrown away from him by a burst of magic—advanced magic that he only saw Malleus cast once because of the sheer force it can create. By that, meaning, one single hit of that magic can KILL A REGULAR HUMAN BEING.

➸ It was Professor Crewel who fired the blast and even he looked astounded at what he'd done. Silver didn't waste any time rushing to where you were blasted off. He was expecting you...dead, remains, fuck...what he wasn't expecting was seeing you still standing. Barely alive with your skin blooded and peeling and regenerating—but alive, nonetheless. 

➸ He locked eyes with you again and the cold feeling settled at the pit of his stomach looking at you. "Hey. Don't look at me like I'm fucking Frankenstein." You opened your arms at him and gave a solemn nod. "Give your father a hug." 

➸ Silver, softly: what the fuck

➸ When Professor Crewel withdrew his wand again you literally hissed like a raccoon. And it looked like he wasn't alone for Sebek pulled Silver away from your range. Ace, Deuce, and Grim were here too. Silver took a deep breath and looked at Sebek wordlessly demanding what the fuck is happening. 

➸ Sebek, as quick as he could, explained the situation to Silver. The quick run-down of things swum around in Silver's head as your nonsensical remarks made him dizzier. Guess that explains your strength and immunity to magic. 

➸ Silver: who did this to him?? Sebek, sweating: it's a funny story, really

➸ Silver stared at Sebek. He didn't have time to process what the fuck Sebek just confessed to because you screamed again. Sebek and he whipped around to see you viciously tearing apart roots and magical bonds set off by the professor along with the senior students that rushed to the scene. "ALRIGHT," you screamed, yeeting Ace, "I'm TIRED of these EFFIN snakes on this MOTHERFUCKIN' TRAIN!" Then you took off running the other direction toward the forest, and the chorus of frustration reminded Silver of the gravity of the situation.

➸ The absurd weight on his entire body made Silver wish this was just a nightmare.

➸ But it would be a nightmare to lose you. 

➸ Even when the night was starting to stretch, and the others were sent by the staff to the infirmary, Silver went to the forest with a heavy heart and his baton in hand. Sebek followed him—for what, a sense of responsibility?—and stopped him before he runs into a tree or worse. Silver snapped at him, the anger finally reaching its surface, and he glared at the young man. Silver isn't the type to fight with his fist nor his words, but this is about you. You who were struck by a mix of potions and magic and currently missing because someone's big head got you in trouble.

➸ Silver knows that Sebek knows how much you mean to him. He's also well aware of Sebek's particular dislike for humans. That remark made Sebek slightly stumble. A flash of hurt and angry was in his eyes but he never tried to hit Silver, despite almost losing control over himself. 

➸ "Fighting would not bring him back, Silver. Arguing will not either," Sebek told him. "I know my apologies will be useless in this situation and that is why I will do everything that I can to fix this." 

➸ Silver is on the verge of fucking tears but it won't compare to Sebek who remains a straight face while his nose turns bright red from holding back tears. Fortunately, before things get worse, Lilia and Malleus came from the trees. In Malleus' arms was you, quiet, and sedated. Silver would have jumped at Malleus and whisked you away but he's suddenly overcome with fatigue that Lilia had to place his arms around him. 

➸ Apparently, the two found you by the river doing whatever then Malleus struck you with his Unique Magic. At that mention, Silver felt cold. He didn't realize how tired he felt, from running around to worrying about you. Despite the heaviness on his shoulders and eyelids, he kept his eyes on you. You looked peaceful but hurt. And Silver wished he can keep you close to him to make you less hurt.

➸ He's glad that you're okay now but he feels dreadful about what's to come next. That dread never left, though, even when the slumber takes him.

"Poor things," Lilia sighed, stroking Silver's locks as Sebek carried the boy on his back. Malleus still has your unconscious body in your arms. His expression is unreadable.

Sebek felt the guilt suffocating him but he remained calm despite the lodge in his throat. "M—Master Lilia—Young master—It...this is..." Sebek stammered, failing to grasp the appropriate words for a sincere pardon. Yet Silver's weight is just as heavy as his sins. Lilia, however, stroked his head. "Save your strength, little one. The best you can do for now is take Silver to the infirmary," the elder fae instructed.

Sebek only nodded and obediently abided.

[alexisqueen-137]

How could I (D.M x Reader)

Hey guys, so this is my first fic that I am posting, I really hope you enjoy this, also, requests open! feedback appreciated whether good or bad, and i apologize if some bit’s in the story are a wee bit cringy... and btw the angst will be much more in the next parts! (btw I don’t write smut AT ALL)

warnings: angst, reader almost get’s raped, mentions of self-harm, mentions of abuse

Word count: 1k+

summary: Pansy uses the unforgivable torture curse on y/n, and after that y/n changes turning into a total badass, catching draco’s eye even more than before...fluff if u squint

The leaves on the withering grass indicated that finally, most finally, Autumn had come once more on the beautiful castle.

Students rushed from classes to see the wonderful sight awaiting them at the meadow. The biting breeze didn’t change their stubborn minds, infact, it most probably encouraged them to sit around the black lake, watching the giant squid with far-away looks in their eyes and pumpkin juice in their hands. 

However, probably the only soul still inside of the towering castle walls was Y/N L/N. The crumpling, aching feeling inside of your chest was only growing and though you wished to let it all out, you weren't able to. Your burning tears were held inside of you too  scared to fall and be for once free. 

Staggering to the dungeons, y/n couldn’t breathe normally or walk properly because of the pain that wracked her body even until now.

And finally have you reached your dorm, you shut the door and made sure no one was there, only to fall on your knees and let all the tears you had been holding slip, slip onto your forest green carpet and dampen it.

It was a habit, a habit of yours to cry as silently as possible, because you were still haunted by your memories as a child being beaten up by your drunken father.

All the walls that you had built inside of you were now by this point fragile; cracking; falling apart...

y/n was not a foolish sensitive girl, oh you were much more. You were so strong to have gone through all of the trials and mishaps that would have destroyed most people. Even though, it still broke you...You were a human being too, in the end. These things you went through were the reason you made those thin scars on your arms and thighs with the silver knife you inherited...it soothes you, this act. It reminds you that you are a normal person who can still feel pain.

However, what happened to you this time must be the end of it all.

It all started when you entered your potions class which the Slytherins (such as yourself) shared with the Gryffindors. You were a bit late, which was unusual since you were one of the best students in your year. Always after Hermione Granger and before Draco Malfoy. Oh how you loathed him. He made your life hell and well...you didn’t need much of a reason to hate him.

you walked over to your seat next to Blaise Zabini, who was your best friend, since he was one of the only who didn’t mind you were a half-blood Slytherin. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley glared at you because they hate all Slytherins, albeit you never did anything to them...

you ignored them, half annoyed, half overlooking the whole situation. Professor Slughorn started explaining the properties of a well-made draught of living death as you took notes. Then Slughorn said something that caught everyone’s complete attention; he was giving away a small vial of liquid luck to whoever made the best living death potion.

Everyone started working, and you started working too, extra hard, because you reallyyyyyy needed that liquid luck. For a reason you would never admit to anyone but yourself. you wanted to give it to- yes, believe it or not- Malfoy. Not because you  liked him or something, no you hated him, it was just that he kept bragging to the Slytherins how the Dark Lord gave him a job and he was chosen for blah blah blah...And you couldn’t really let him kill himself, right?

You side glanced at Potter to see how he was doing, only to see that instead of cutting up his Sopophorous bean, he was crushing it, getting much more juice than you, you followed his lead and crushed your bean with the back of your silver knife watching the liquid ooze out of it’s shiny shell...

*after class*

 you put the golden liquid in your pocket feeling quite happy with yourself, you and Potter had made equivalently perfect draughts, earning the both of you felix felicis. 

Just as you were heading to your next class, you bumped into (rather unfortunately), no other than Pansy Parkinson, the pug-faced slut. Apperently, she made it her all time mission to annoy the fuck out of Y/N.

“Watch where your going, Bitch” She retorted. You huffed. She continued, “I don’t think you can though, not with that ugly hair covering your filthy face!”

She cackled like the whole thing was so funny. You rolled your eyes, and then cleared your throught; “Bugger off, Parkinson, I don’t need you all in my face like spot cream or something, not that you would know of it, looks like you’ve never used it your entire life!” you smirked, not caring about the consequences this would bring.

Pansy’s eyes flared with anger, she said: “Think we’re so smart, don’t we? Forgot that your superiors (she said that while gesturing at herself) could handle you without much looking at your hideous face! You are sooo unbearable! First, you steal my Dracey from me (at these words you frowned, not knowing what she meant), and now you’re acting all snotty in my face, I think, it’s time for me to TEACH.YOU.A.LESSON! (she practically screeched those words) ughhhhhh I hate you so much, L/N, I DON’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT YOU, YOU KNOW SO, crucio!”  You gasped and before you could react an invisible force squeezed your bones and burned your skin, tugged on your flesh and stabbed you dozens of times at once; until you were screaming and wailing on the ground, writhing in agony, unable to do anything to that horrible skank, all until your vision went black and yout hit the floor, unconscious…

 *after you woke up*

 Unsure for how long you were out, you staggered up, and grimaced form the pain. All you knew that miss ruthless Pansy left you alone in the dark, cold empty hallway. All you knew was that the tears you were holding would burst soon if you don’t hurry to your dorm.

 *present*

 And now, after you had cried your heart out, you realized you didn’t just cry because of the physical pain, but from the mere thought of not being able to stand up to yourself and shoot back at the motherfucking bitch- Oh, how you promised yourself you would change that day. How you would be a new woman with a much bigger attitude, how you would take care of yourself.

 And that’s just what you did.

 *Two months later*

 You had died your hair black from the top, and silver from the bottom, keeping it long, and you always made sure your hair was always wavy, you kept worn down all the time, and it framed your face perfectly.

  Instead of the pants you used to wear, now you always wore a skirt underneath your robes, with black tights and short heels, not forgetting to add a dash of makeup. Not only have you changed your looks, but your attitude aswell. Anyone disrespects you, oh they will pay for it. Admittedly, you had to thank Parkinson for changing you like this, but you thought better than to.

You were top of your year and you helped people whenever they want. You were kind, but one hell of a badass.

However, you still thought about the day Parkinson cursed you, what had she said, I had stolen Draco from her? You didn’t understand that. You and Draco had no romantic relationship. Albeit, when you started to change, he found it better for him to be your friend. (Blaise couldn’t shut up about it, he was so relieved that both his best friends weren’t enemies anymore) After getting to know him better, you came to the conclusion that Draco wasn’t as bad as he seemed…not at all.

Yet, you still hadn’t given him the vial of liquid luck, afraid he might reject it from you.

*one day*

You took a bite from your green apple as you made your way to class, you would be 10 minutes early if you went now, but, since you had nothing else to do, you made your way into the empty hallway leading to the transfiguration classroom. you had this weird feeling that someone was watching you though...

As you were walking someone called “Hi honey”, you didn’t turn around, he was probably calling for someone else. “L/N, sweetie!” you froze. You turned around and looked at the boy behind you. “what did you just call me?” “You know what I said y/n. The boy got dangerously closer and you realized it was Theodore Nott, Slytherin. 

He came forward even closer, pushing you into a broom closet. your heart pace was by now going so fast you were sure it was about to jump out of your chest. “I know you check me out when you see me, darling. Why don’t I give you what you’ve been wanting for a long time?” “g-get off of me” was all you managed. He came closer and trailed kisses on your neck, and you yelped. And maybe, just maybe, if you hadn’t screamed, and then who knows what would have happened.

From outside, someone yelled “WHOEVER IS IN THAT CLOSET LEAVE Y/N RIGHT NOW BEFORE I HEX YOU INTO OBLIVION!” You recognized the voice as Draco’s. you couldn’t help but sigh in relief when Nott let go of you in a hurry and you watched as he scrambled out. After he went and got hit with a couple of good spells,  Draco rushed to you and got you out of the closet. Once he touched you you felt all the stress leave you, and you thanked god he came to save you.

“Are you okay? did anything happen to you? did that motherfucker hurt you? answer me, y/n!” without realizing, you’ve been holding a shaky breath. and at his questions, you covered your face with your hands and burst into tears. “H-he almost r-raped m-me..” 

“It’s okay, don’t worry, I’m here for you” he cooed. And gently ever so gently, he pulled you into his grasp, tightly wrapping his hands around you. You stiffened, but then relaxed saying: “It’s been so long since someone hugged me...I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be held...”

(part 2 coming soon!)

[multifandhoem]

server collab || i

Server Collab from the Haikyuu HQ server with the prompt: Mirror fuck.

A/N: i apologize already to everyone reading this. It is LONG.

Genre: fluff, smut, a little bit of angst

Warnings: girlxgirl, girlxboyxgirl, it’s polyamory people you get it, some cursing, dom!Hanamaki, dom!Kiyoko to some extent, a bit of switch!Kiyoko, sub!Reader, anal stuff, toys, double penetration, oral everywhere, praise kink (is that a warning?), no actual mention of the word but.. anxiety, teeny tiny bit public stuff, mirror sex (duh)

Word count: 11.402 (i am sorry)

Gripping the straps of your backpack tighter you stepped into the hall of your new university, the bustling and shuffling of all the new freshmen and welcoming upperclassmen intimidated you a little bit. The girl that stepped infant of you seemed like an angel sent from heaven, something to concentrate on in this sea of new information. 

Her talking to you was probably mandatory. But after looking at her and not believing your own eyes after realizing the immense beauty she possessed made you feel special that you were the one receiving attention from that goddess. 

She introduced herself as Kiyoko Shimizu, a college senior, who wants to inform you about all the things you could do to put emphasis on yourself in college, especially if working and/or studying in a male-dominated environment.

You could hear your heart beating in your ears, desperately trying to snap out of the daze you were in to actually engage in a conversation with her. 

“What about potential jobs in my field?” You feared you were rude by interrupting her, but you had to blurt it out before the courage left you again. 

And the way her eyes lit up at the question of interest, fumbling her phone out of her pockets and basically thrusting it into your face. “I can tell you in detail if you want! Over coffee! Today or tomorrow, whichever you prefer!”

You didn’t even like coffee. And you had plans for the next days. But you still couldn’t stop yourself from eagerly typing your number into her phone, telling her you’re free whenever. 

Kiyoko messaged you two hours after you’ve left the venue, only walking around with your head in the clouds after the encounter with the pretty girl, which was also smart and seemed interested. A jackpot. 

She asked you if you were free the next day at noon and you replied embarrassingly fast, agreeing to the time and place she picked out. You would even grab something to eat together! Not just coffee! Did this classify as a date? You were more or less fresh out of high school, taking a gap year in between to take internships, travel, and really decide what major to choose. 

And now this drop-dead gorgeous woman wants to have lunch with you. 

Kiyoko told you to call her Shimizu in the first fifteen minutes of your lunch date. She laughed at your awkward jokes and even wiped some crumbs of your cheek. You talked about the ways how you could get a job in your field and she gave you helpful tips, but you also talked about everything else. Favorite foods, childhoods, family, and so on. 

Your nervousness faded the longer you talked and you really started to be yourself around her, especially when you left the small diner to just aimlessly walk around, chatting the whole time. It wasn’t until the end of your meet-up when everything came crashing down. 

“I have to go now, every Thursday it’s movie night for me and my boyfriend and today it’s my turn to pick! But we should totally do this again!” 

Of course, it was too good to be true. She hugged you with blushy cheeks, keeping her hands on your shoulder after distancing herself again. “Where do you live? I’ll walk you home!” 

“Oh, that’s not necessary. I live on campus, it’s close by!” You tried not to let your hurt show in your words. 

Why were you even hurt? You met for the second time today. You didn’t even know her. Your stupid hopes were to blame. You turned around quickly, throwing her a half-assed smile before hurrying back home to have a frustrated cry and then hopefully getting over her. 

— — — 

“15 minutes later and I would’ve been legally allowed to choose!” Hanamaki Takahiro waved his favorite comedy around with a cheeky grin, standing up to press a kiss to Kiyoko’s lips when she kicked her shoes off and placed them neatly onto the shoe rack next to the front door. 

“I’m going to change, then I’m ready.” She gave him another peck, before sauntering off into their shared bedroom, fingers already tugging on the blouse she had tucked into her jeans. “How was the lunch date with your junior?” 

Makki plopped back down onto the couch, spreading his long limbs, waiting for his girlfriend to come back. “Good. We talked a lot, she’s really nice. And very cute, too.” At that, he perked up. “Yeah?” The door to the bedroom opened again and Shimizu came out, now clad in sweatpants and a loose shirt. “Yeah. Reminds me of Yachi a bit. But in a hotter way, you know?” 

“In a hotter way? Tell me more! You should invite her to the apartment sometime!” With a big grin on his face, Makki pulled her closer to his chest, after she finally put her choice of a movie into the DVD Player and sat down onto the couch. 

“Maybe I will. She doesn’t really know anyone here in Tokyo. Maybe we can invite Mattsun, too. Or Iwaizumi. Maybe some of the Karasuno boys. But only Sawamura or Koshi, the others are too wild.” Makki had to laugh at that. “You just said she was hot and now you want to play matchmaker?” 

“Let’s talk later and watch the movie. But I really want to do more with her. She’s nice.” 

“And cute in a hot way,” he teased her, before concentrating on the starting movie. 

— — —

When Shimizu messaged you and invited you for dinner at her place you nearly died a little on the inside. That was until you remembered the boyfriend. But did it really matter? 

You still don’t know her fully, having only met her a couple of times. And you had great conversations the times you’ve met. Maybe you should get over your teeny tiny crush you imagined for the girl and just try winning her as a friend. 

You regretted it a bit when she asked if it was okay if her boyfriend and a friend of his joined you. But you still said it didn’t matter. 

So here you were, the bottle of mediocre white wine in your slightly shaking hand in front of the building. Shimizu had sent you the address the day before, also telling you which floor and apartment so you slowly entered and made your way up the flights of stairs, to not be sweaty when appearing in front of her doorstep. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t her who opened the front door when you finally rang the doorbell. 

The man had a bright grin in his face, looking down on you with an unusual amount of interest. 

“You must be, Y/N, right? Nice to finally meet you, Mizu has been talking a lot about you!” I extended his arm in a friendly manner, even though he seemed more like the hugging type. 

Maybe Shimizu had told him that you weren’t that keen on first-time skinship. 

“I’m Hanamaki, but you can call me Makki.” He started talking again and only then you realized that you had not said anything yet. “Sorry, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, too!” 

Why did you introduce yourself again? He already knew your name. Stupid. 

But he practically beamed at your response, stepping aside to let you in. “Come in, come in! Mizu is in the kitchen. I’m going to show you around for a bit. Well, it isn’t big anyways. As you can see we’re in the living room.” He seemed a bit nervous, but maybe you were just misinterpreting him. 

Shimizu interrupted him by coming out of an archway, hugging you in an instant. “I am so happy to see you again! How are you?” 

You felt your ears burning, being this close to her, but still managed to stutter out a response. “I’m fine, I think I’m kind of getting used to living alone.” Shimizu smiled at you approvingly. “Well, if you need help with anything, don’t be afraid to ask. Even if- oh shit!” Ringing from the room, you presumed it was the kitchen, interrupted Shimizu and she was quick to dash back there, leaving you alone with Hanamaki again. 

It was quiet only for a second before he was talking again. “Well, there is the kitchen. The apartment is pretty small really, through this door is a small hallway, our bedroom is on the left and the bathroom on the right.” He opened the door to the small hallway, pointing at the two doors while talking. 

“Ehm... Hanamaki-san.. is there a place where I can put this?” He blinked at you for a second, before his eyes darted down to your hands, which still clasped the bottle of wine between them. “Oh shit! Sorry, sorry, I’ll take it and put it in the refrigerator. That’s what you’re supposed to do with white wine, right?” He beckoned for you to follow him into the kitchen, where Shimizu was busy cutting away. You immediately felt a bit more relaxed around her and it seemed as it was the same for Hanamaki-san. 

“By the way, you really don’t have to call me Hanamaki-san. Just Hanamaki or Makki is fine!” The grin on his face was inviting and even though he didn’t seem that much as you type, you still found him attractive at that moment. Lazily leaning back against the counter, eyes focused on you, and grinning in such a friendly but still with a teasing edge to it. You nearly forgot to answer. “O-okay, Makki-san.” He playfully rolled his eyes at the honorific but decided to leave it at that. You had to chuckle a bit at his antics, missing the content smile that adored Shimizu’s face while she was watching you over her shoulder. 

“Can I help you with anything, Shimizu-san?” You felt bad that she was the only one working, now stirring the pot she had added the freshly cut vegetables into. “No, no, it’s okay! I’m nearly finished, anyway, I just need to add the stock and then this will have to cook for a while.” She threw you a dazzling smile and to accentuate her words, she poured a jug of liquid into the pot, putting a lid halfway on afterward and setting a timer. 

You knew that it would still take a while until you would start eating together. But it still felt weird being here without any purpose. 

“Let’s go back into the living room!” Hanamaki gently laid a hand onto your back, pushing you back into the biggest room of the apartment while Shimizu washed her hands. “Do you want to open a bottle of wine?” Shimizu called after you and you made an affirmative noise. “For me a beer!” 

Hanamaki and you took a seat on the couch, he was comfortably spread out while your position was still a bit stiff. You didn’t know him after all. 

 “Wait, babe, you should’ve said something!” He shot up again, helping Shimizu, who balanced two wine glasses and a bottle of beer in one hand and a wine bottle already in a cooler in the other. “You could have used your head!” The jab could’ve been snappy, but the playful tone softened in a way that made you understand their relationship for the first time.  

They must’ve known each other for a long time.

“How did you two meet?” The question escaped you before you could hold your curiosity back. “I managed the boys' volleyball team in high school and Hiro was on our opponent's team,” Shimizu explained while giving you a filled wine glass. “I nearly hit the other manager of her team with a stray ball.” Hanamaki giggled at the memory. “Mizu here saved poor Yachi and I went over to apologize and well, as they say, the rest is history!” He blinked exaggeratedly at Shimizu, who just scoffed with a smile. “We didn’t really start talking until we moved to Tokyo. And then I met him on my way to the convenience store and we decided to talk a bit.”

It was so normal and simple. But still very romantic in your eyes. “Like we were meant to be!” Hanamaki dramatically threw himself back onto the couch, his now opened beer bottle securely in his hand. Shimizu took a seat in the armchair slightly across from you and you felt kind of weird, separating the couple like that. But both looked content, you didn’t want to destroy the atmosphere by doing something awkward. 

Knowing you, it would happen sooner or later anyway. 

But at least for the next few minutes, you had peace, engaging in various small talk with the two of them, gradually relaxing and even cracking some jokes on your own, much to the delight of Hanamaki. And as the lightweight you were you could already feel the glass of wine, admittedly, you had downed that very quickly on a near-empty stomach. But you didn’t mind the relaxed atmosphere. Not worrying about everything you did or said was quite soothing for a change. 

“Oikawa was pretty dumb, you know one time…” Hanamaki interrupted himself by laughing and seeing his eyes crinkle in joy made a dreaded warmth bloom in your chest. You were reminiscing on your old high school days, Hanamaki being at it with stories from his team captain for the last twenty minutes. When he wanted to start again, still gasping for air, the doorbell interrupted him, and an excited look shot across his face. “Mattsun!” 

With a huge grin on his face, he darted across the room to the front door, opening it in an abrupt motion, to showcase the tall dark-haired male behind it for a second until he was already engulfed by Hanamaki. Both men hugged for a solid minute until Hanamaki ushered the other one, Mattsun apparently, in. Shimizu had also stood up to hug the newcomer, leaving you kind of awkwardly standing by the side. “That’s Y/N. She’s a friend of Shimizu’s and a freshman!” Thank god for the wine or you would’ve nearly passed out when Hanamaki suddenly threw an arm around your shoulder and pressed you into his side. 

“Hi, nice to meet you! I’m Matsukawa Issei. Hiro and I went to high school together.” The tall stranger extended his hand towards you and you shook it with a friendly smile on your face. “Nice to meet you too, Matsukawa-san.” 

After Matsukawa had finished his first beer, you and Shimizu were nearly down with the bottle of wine, the timer rang from the kitchen, indicating that the sauce was finished and the meat was perfectly tender. 

Eating something felt good, it cleared your head a bit from the alcohol, especially the glass of water you had next to your wine helped. Matsukawa was a bit quieter than Hanamaki but still held an active conversation. Shimizu however was another story. She was much quieter than when you met up with only the two of you, silently observing everything going on at the table and only occasionally adding her thoughts. You liked it. It would be overwhelming to have multiple different opinions voiced at all times. And getting to know something different about Kiyoko Shimizu was always a pleasure.

Matsukawa and Hanamaki were joking the whole time, making you snort into your glass more than once, but you got rewarded by the proud smiles they sent your way. As the second bottle of wine slowly disappeared into your’s and Shimizu’s stomach, the men cracked their third or fourth bottle of beer open when everyone was more than stuffed with the delicious dinner Shimizu and Hanamaki had conjured. 

 “So, I would say we load up the dishwasher, and then we wait a bit before dessert or else Mattsun will blow up.” Hanamaki stood up and started collecting all of the plates, ready to take them into the kitchen. “Damn right, I will,” Mattsun grunted affirmatively but stood up with everyone else to make the cleanup faster. 

Shortly after you were all huddled in the living room again, the couch now more crowded with Shimizu, Hanamaki, and you, while Matsukawa took up the armchair, dangling his legs from the sides. If you would shift just a bit, your thighs would be touching Shimizu’s. But you tried to contain yourself. It would only make everything uncomfortable for everybody around. 

It was weird sitting there with them. You anticipated feeling left out, they all knew each other since high school and you only got to know two of them today. Yet everything fell somehow into place. Shimizu’s occasional giggle or when she added something to the stories the other two were animatedly telling, Hanamaki’s touchy personality, where he hit you continuously every time he laughed too hard, apologizing afterwards, still with a glimmer in his eyes and Matsukawa’s jokes he cracked. 

The evening turned into nighttime and sooner than not you were growing tired, yawning every other minute, head slightly dropping down only for you to catch yourself again. 

“Aw, baby, are you growing tired?” In the past hours, they had teased you about being the youngest, all of them being two years older than you. Shimizu had once even described you as her baby, obviously not knowing what it did to you. She even asked very concernedly if you were alright when your face looked like a blazing tomato. 

You could only nod at Hanamaki’s words, rubbing your eyes and standing up, a bit wobbly on your feet from sitting so long and the amount of alcohol you had consumed. “I’ll call it a night then. Thank you for inviting me.” You shot a smile at Shimizu and Hanamaki, turning to Matsukawa right afterwards. “It was nice meeting you!” 

“Likewise!” You shared a quick hug before you made your way over to the door, to slip into your shoes. “I’ll walk you home, it’s already late.” Hanamaki surprised you a bit when he also slipped into an oversized bomber jacket and worn down sneakers, grabbing a set of keys and patiently waiting next to the door. 

“No, no, you really don’t have to. I’ll be fine,” you tried to convince him, only receiving an unimpressed stare as an answer. “It’s better like this. It’s dark and you drank something. But still text me when you get home, okay?” Shimizu embraced you in a long hug, swaying you around very slightly while you nuzzled your face into her shoulder.

“Makki?” 

“Yeah?” 

The fresh air had done wonders to sober you up and now you had been walking alongside Makki for a while, engaging in a bit of small talk but it had been quiet for the last few minutes. “What do you do for a living? I just realized you never said anything.” He chuckled at your question. “I thought something serious was coming. And I work as a real estate agent. I like working with people and so on, but I don’t think it’s something longterm. I’m honestly considering just dropping everything and getting professionally trained in pastry making. Maybe even going to culinary school, who knows.” 

The smile he shot you was different than the others you had seen from him. It was rawer, more gentle than his usual teasing ones. “Really? I can actually see it, I mean the small raspberry cakes were amazing! I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything that delicious before!”

His smile widened at that and he straightened up a little bit more. “That was nothing! You should taste my creampuffs. They are my favorite, that’s why I make them so often, they’re kind of my specialty,” he admitted and scratched the back of his head. “I’ll make them for you next time. You should come over soon anyways. Shimizu likes you. Usually, she doesn’t talk that much when we have people over.” You looked at him surprised. Shimizu talked even less usually? Does that mean you weren’t wrong when you thought you had a special connection? 

A blush crept across your face at the thought but you quickly tried to dismiss it again. “You know, you’re pretty cute.” 

Remember when you tried not to blush that hard. It’s not working. Not at all. 

“You can’t say something like that!” Wildly flailing your hands around did nothing to help your flustered state and that strawberry idiot had the audacity to laugh at you! 

Apparently, the alcohol hadn’t cleared up as much as you had thought, or else your heart wouldn’t hammer so loudly against your chest. 

Luckily your building was coming into view, hopefully freeing you from your embarrassment. “But I’m serious, we should do something together again. Soon. If you want, Mattsun is still here tomorrow, we could hang out again. Or well, anytime you want to hang out, I’m sure you just have to give us a call and in like 95% of all cases we’re down.” He scratched the back of his head again. “Oh.”

That kind of surprised you. It was already a wonder that Shimizu, the hot senior girl, talked to you for more than a second. But now her equally hot boyfriend wanted you to join them more often. You weren’t anything special, why would they want to hang out with you? They for sure had other friends. 

“I am free tomorrow if it really isn’t a bother.” You had to take your chances right? Even if hanging out with the attractive couple would probably make your heart go into overdrive the entire time. 

“Of course it’s not a bother!” His step was a lot more feathery, that was until you came to a stop in front of your building, him stopping a couple feet in front of you, turning around with a questioning expression on his face. 

“That’s my building,” you explained, vaguely gesturing towards the entrance. “Okay, alright. Do you need me to walk you up to your room? It really would not be a bother!” 

“It’s okay, there’s security. But thank you for walking me. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” Saying goodbye felt kind of weird.

“Yeah, sure, I think Shimizu will text you the details, if not, I will!” 

After a goodbye hug which lasted way too long to be considered normal, you parted again, with him watching every step you took towards the entrance hall. 

“Y/N! Over here!” Shimizu was waving her arm around for you to spot her easily. As if it wasn’t easy enough already with Hanamaki and Matsukawa towering over her and literally everybody else. “I’m so happy you could make it!” Shimizu clasped your hands in hers, pressing them unnecessarily close to her chest, in your opinion. Had nobody here respect for your poor heart? 

The group had planned to do some shopping before Matsukawa had to grab his train back to Miyagi. It was quite fitting anyways, you needed some new clothes. 

Matsukawa left after a few hours, hugging every one of you for goodbye. You had offered going home too, not wanting intrude on their couple time, but both of them were adamant about taking you with them. So here you were, looking at some clothes while Shimizu was in the aisle behind you and Hanamaki was roaming through the dresses next to you, after you had mentioned you wanted some. “What do you think about this?” Shimizu reappeared in your aisle, holding up a dress for you to look at. “Well, it’s pretty, but I don’t know if it’ll suit me..” Cue to the dress being thrust into your hands. “You never know until you try!” You kept on browsing for a while until you and Shimizu disappeared in two changing cabins with Hanamaki waiting in front of them in the designated seating area. 

“It’s pretty, but a bit short I guess. I mean, if you bend down you would flash literally everyone.” “If it were tighter around the waist it would be a better fit.” “That’s good, but not elevated. A nice dress for your free time, you know?” Hanamaki was a surprisingly good shopping companion, giving insightful comments to everything you and Shimizu tried on. 

“Oh, this one looks so good!” Shimizu was already finished, now sitting outside with her boyfriend, looking at you with wide eyes as you came out with your personal favorite. Hanamaki’s eyes shot to Shimizu for a second, before landing on you again. “You look hot!” Shimizu nodded in agreement. “You have to take that!” You blushed at their comments, fingers toying with the hem of your dress. “Are you sure? Isn’t it too much?” To be fair, you were fishing for compliments a little bit. It looked really good, but it was also kind of expensive. Not that expensive where you have to gasp when seeing the price but it wasn’t classified cheap either. “Yeah, take it. Hiro is right, you look stunning.” The way Shimizu talks is as if she’s always stating facts does something to you. Especially when she was praising you like that. 

After those two days you spent with them, your hangouts became much more frequent. If your schedules aligned you would eat lunch with Shimizu in the cafeteria, Hanamaki would pick you up in his car when the weather was bad, driving you to your dorm or occasionally to their apartment. You had stopped feeling weird about hanging out with them on your own. They were a great couple to be around, not overly touchy, and just respectful of you being there. 

The worst part was by far the fact that your initial attraction to them had blossomed into a full-grown crush. It didn’t help at all that Makki was a touchy person, often throwing arms around your shoulder or your waist, sometimes cuddling up to you on the couch on movie night every Thursday. But you didn’t want to let that have any impact on your friendship. Not only were they really great friends, but it was also pretty helpful as a freshman in a new city to have older friends from college and work life, who could help you with some things where you would usually have called your parents in frustration. So you just kept it to yourself, blushing every time when Shimizu nuzzles her face into the crook of your neck or holds your hand to not lose you in a crowd. 

You still wouldn’t have it any other way. Being with them like this was enough for you, especially since they liked babying you as the youngest. To be honest, you thrived in the attention you were receiving in those moments. 

One time you were cooking together and you had cut your finger, it wasn’t anything deep, really, but you bled a little. And both of them immediately huddled around you, cleaning your finger and putting a plaster on the cut, all while Makki was holding you and Shimizu was cradling your hands, even pressing a small kiss on the cut. 

But at the end of the day, you were still only friends while they were a couple. Even if you wished it was different. 

“Here, little one. Here, babe.” The kiss Makki pressed to the crown of your head startled you. Usually, it was Shimizu who showed her affection like this, and feeling his lips on your head made a heat blossom in your chest, all the way up to your face. He did the same to Shimizu, setting two small plates with sweets in front of you, together with a new jug of lemon water. 

You shot him a thankful smile, even though the redness on your cheeks was probably still prominent. 

It was leading up to finals week and you and Shimizu were studying alongside at their kitchen table, trying to push every last drop of information into your overflowing brains. 

Makki was also pretty busy since he decided to really quit his job and start an apprenticeship at a bakery in the midst of Tokyo. 

“You should take a break, babe.” 

“Yeah, Mizu, you’ve been studying for hours, come join us.” 

Makki and you were trying to coax Shimizu into joining you on the couch to relax a bit before going back into studying. You had finished the course you wanted to revise today and called it a day since it was already late, but Shimizu was still going strong, not even pausing once for anything other than going to the bathroom. 

Makki threw you a look when Shimizu didn’t respond and in a second he hurled her up into his arms, forcefully carrying her over to the couch. You giggled a bit at the picture, skipping behind them to sit on the other side of Shimizu, throwing your arms around her. “What are you doing? I need to study!” She was squirming in your holds but it only made you hug her harder. “No, you need a break. Let’s order pizza and cuddle.” 

Makki chuckled at your words. “That’s a perfect idea. You can still study afterward, okay babe?” Shimizu slowly gave up in your holds and an idea came to your mind. 

Before your courage left you again you moved a bit and pressed a small peck to her jaw, something she had done to you countless times. 

A gasp escaped her and she looked at you with wide eyes, making you blush instantly. “I’m sorry, I thought it was oka-“

And suddenly her lips were on yours. The sensation left before you could even blink. Your eyes were fixed on the dark-haired girl in front of you, who nervously bit on her lip, then they shot to Makki. And he smiled. Why was he smiling? His girlfriend just kissed someone else in front of him? 

Nobody said anything for a while and you felt like you were going into overdrive. You didn’t feel like you could move and the beating of your heart was prominent in your ears. What was that supposed to mean? Was it a friendly kiss? Why were they looking at you like that? 

“I- I mean we, we kind of like you, you know.” It was Shimizu who finally broke the silence, nervousness evident in her tone. What.

They liked you? You? Out of all people? And where were they going with this? 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I thought you were interested, too. I didn’t want to ruin anything!” Tears were appearing in her eyes and your heart broke a little at the thought that you were the reason for that. 

“I- know- I mean I like you. Both of you. But- why?” You finally managed to push some words out of your mouth, still not believing what was happening. “Why we like you? Oh, Y/N, you’re like so nice, and cute, and you’re always there and brightening up our lives! In the beginning, we thought it was just an attraction, but over the past year it became so much more than that.”

One of Makki’s arms left its place around Shimizu and he gently cradled your face in his hands. “We would like to try being in a relationship. With you. Like all three of us, together.” 

This was a dream. It has to be. There was no way they would sacrifice their normal relationship to do something like this with you. 

“Can I kiss you again?” After you didn’t answer for a while, Shimizu shyly spoke up again. “Please.” If it was a dream you could at least live it to its fullest. 

This time you kissed her back, pushing yourself against her until you all fell against Makki, who leaned back and let you make out on top of him. 

Softly, Shimizu’s tongue started prodding at your lips and you opened your mouth a bit too willingly, ready to take whatever she was willing to give to you. 

“Can- eh- me too?” Makki’s eyes were big and hopeful when you parted and surprised you turned your head towards him. They said they both liked you. But it was still unbelievable. 

You leaned down, either way, to connect your still wet lips to his’. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been that content as you were now.

“So, you want to try? The relationship? With us?” It had taken a while until you were finally able to disconnect your lips from theirs, as soon as you finished kissing one, the desire to feel the other one would arise. “Are you sure?” You felt dumb as soon as you asked the question and Shimizu’s small giggle only confirmed your fears. 

“Of course, we’re sure. We’ve talked about it for months since we weren’t sure how to introduce you to the topic without it being like weird or overwhelming.” Makki pressed another kiss to your lips, chuckling at the way your face lit up afterwards. “Is that a yes to the relationship?” 

“Yeah, of course! I mean.. I really like you.” They cooed at your words and immediately you were getting covered in kisses again. 

“Do you want to stay the night?” The question made you tense up. Even though you had moved to the bedroom to continue your kisses in a more comfortable way than with one of you nearly falling off the couch, you still didn’t think you were ready for something sexual. You couldn’t believe everything was real yet anyways. “Not in that way. Like, just sleep,” Hanamaki was quick to correct himself. 

 Despite being friends with them for almost a year you had never stayed the night alone. Once, three other people from their high school days, Daichi, Nishinoya, and Mattsun, stayed over after all of you went partying, but every other time Makki or both of them had walked you home since your apartment was only a 20 minute walk away. 

“I- yeah sure.” Sleeping and cuddling were fine. And you wanted to live out this dream for as long as possible. “I’ll give you a shirt of mine and some shorts from Mizu! Do you want long or short stuff?” Excitedly Hanamaki jumped off the bed, leaving you cuddled up in Shimizu’s arms. “Short, please.” Shimizu and you also stood up, once Makki had everything laid out, leading to a slightly awkward moment, whether you would change here or separately. “I’ll head to the bathroom.” You didn’t quite feel comfortable shedding everything right now so you used the opportunity where none of them offered something else. 

When you came back, both of them were already in their sleeping attire, too. A sting of jealousy hit you right in the heart, at the thought that they had already seen each other naked and once again your brain reminded you of the fact that they were already in a relationship for more than three years, making you just the new awkward add on. But they immediately took you back into their arms and it was like all your worries disappeared. 

“I can’t stop kissing you.” To emphasize his words Makki pressed little pecks all over your face, making you giggle. “I can’t believe you’re ours now.” Shimizu looked at you with big loving eyes, squeezing your hands for a second. 

“Well, let’s continue our earlier plans. Pizza and cuddles, right?” 

In the weeks to come, you didn’t have as much time for them as you would have liked. Hopefully, after your last exam that would start to change, especially since you were getting kind of needy. There were only that so many times how often you could wake up with Hiro’s boner pressing against your ass without him doing anything, other than maybe grinding up into you when you started a small make-out session. You really wished that would change once you all had more time on your hands. 

“Congratulations on finishing all your exams!” Shimizu engulfed you in a hug before you even had time to shout your hello’s. “Thank you, Mizu.” You giggled excitedly, the euphoria of finally completing all your exams overwhelming your emotions. “What do you say we go on a date? We never went on an official one, so we can do that once Hiro’s off work.” You nodded excitedly at her offer, pressing your lips to hers. You were becoming addicted to their kisses, never being able to go long without them when they were in close proximity of yours. 

It didn’t take long until her fingers were tangled in your hair and you were pushed back on the couch, her other hand roaming over your body, but being careful not to touch any of your intimate areas. 

Only when you obviously ground up into her hands she tentatively took one of your boobs into her hand, squeezing it experimentally. It wasn’t much but for your touch starved body, it was enough to enlist a small moan. 

“We should wait for Hiro, baby.” She was a bit breathless when she sat up and withdrew her hand from your boobs. “Don’t pout. Go shower and get ready for our date, I’m going to make reservations and inform Hiro.” She fully crawled off you, leaving an empty feeling behind but you still complied. “Where will we go?” Your voice was a bit hoarse from not talking for the last 20 minutes and you coughed a little to get it back. 

“Something fancy. Do you have fitting clothes here?” Smiling she leaned down again to kiss you another time, much shorter than before and that made you realize that maybe, she was equally addicted to you. 

“I have some dresses but I don’t know if it’s really fancy. Maybe I’ll have to go home for a bit,” you admitted. “That’s okay baby if you do your makeup here, how much time do you think it’ll take?” If you already knew what you were going to wear it shouldn’t take long. But maybe you had to iron it for it to really look good. But probably a max of 20 minutes. “I don’t know, 20 minutes maybe if you help me pick something out.” Shimizu chuckled and the sound alone was enough for a smile to emerge on your face. “We will join.” 

After her promise she sent you to the bathroom with a slight tap to your butt, sending tingles up your spine with the short contact. 

You really hoped that she got the hint that you wanted to do something more. You would probably be to shy to ask them directly. And you even shaved every hair on your body that wasn't necessary in your opinion. You wanted to be at your best for them, cleaning especially thorough down there.

Never in a million years would you look good next to the goddess named Kiyoko Shimizu. She had an enticing lipstick on and you never wanted anything more than to kiss it right off her. Her body was adorned by a black midi dress with a slit at the side and a dangerously low cleavage. 

“Shimizu you look so good!” You couldn’t stop gaping at your girlfriend, hands running over her sides, smelling her sweet perfume. “Thank you, baby!” She pressed a soft kiss to your lips, careful to not destroy your makeup. 

“Shit, I’m so lucky.” Hiro was staring in awe when leaving the bathroom, his eyes trained on Shimizu, whereas your eyes couldn’t believe what they saw. In what world did creampuff loving Hanamaki Takahiro have a body like that?

He was fresh out of the shower, only clad in tight black boxer briefs, ruffling through his hair with a towel. It was like a painting. And when he came over to give Shimizu and you a kiss on the lips you once again realized how gorgeous those two people were. And then there was you. 

“Do you have any idea what you’re wearing yet? Thanks, babe.” He took the grey button-up and the black pants with a slightly checkered pattern Shimizu ironed earlier out of her hands with a huge smile. 

“Noo,” you wailed and dramatically fell back onto the bed, pleased with yourself once you heard them laugh. “I’m sure we’ll find something amazing. You look hot either way. You already do, now. I could eat you!” Shimizu jokingly pulled you closer to the edge where she stood by your legs, hovering over you only to press a feather-light peck onto your lips. 

Hiro chuckled at the way you shuddered and shot you a knowing wink once your eyes met, making you blush a deep rose. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been here.” Hiro and Shimizu looked around interested, even though your small room was not that great at all. “It’s nothing special.” You got a bit shy at the way they were inspecting everything in great detail, leaning down to analyze every picture. 

“What do you think of this?” You tried taking their attention off your family picture you had on your desk, holding up a dark green trouser with a black blouse. “It’s cute, definitely a contender. I would have to see it on you, though.” You nodded in agreement, laying the outfit down carefully on your bed, which has been nearly unused for the last month. “What about this?” Your next choice got a unified shaking of heads and after the third failed attempt you didn’t know if there was anything left in your small closet that was to some extent suitable for today. 

That was until you pulled the last dress out. Personally, you probably wouldn’t have gone for it out of fear to be overdressed, but Shimizu and Hiro were delighted. “That’s it. You have to wear that! We’re going to be the hottest group in Tokyo!” Hiro was especially enthusiastic but he got quiet real quick when you shyly pulled your sweatshirt over your head to change into the dress. It wasn’t as if you had other choices. You didn’t want to change in the bathroom down the hall and your room didn’t really have any other options. 

 “Fuck, baby, give a man a warning next time, will you?” Both of them moved closer to you, hands starting to roam your body, pressing the occasional kiss to your shoulders. “You’re so beautiful, baby.” Shimizu’s fingers played with the hem of your sweatpants, helping you out of them. “We have to go to the reservation, don’t we?” Hiro’s voice sounded pained and he pulled back his hands from your body. Shimizu followed his example, giving you room to continue changing. Now overly aware of their eyes on your body you slipped into the dress, turning around in a silent request for someone to pull your zipper up. 

“God, you’re hot.” To hear something like that from Shimizu, the equation of a goddess was unreal and in an instant you blushed again, hand moving up to fix your hair, which didn’t need any fixing at all. 

“But there are some panty lines visible.” Hiro’s comment made all eyes fixate on your private region and the lines on the side of your hips. “Do you have any other underwear here?” You shook your head at Shimizu’s question. “I already chose the one with like the least seams. “I don’t think we have time to go back to the apartment or else I could’ve lent you some.” Shimizu seemed deep in thought and even though the thought of wearing Shimizu’s underwear made you feel some kind of way, you only had one possible option in mind. “I could take them off.”

“Do you need anything else? A coffee maybe? Or another drink?” The waiter in the restaurant was reappearing, after taking your empty dessert platters back. “No, thank you. Just the check please.” Hiro’s hand felt hot on your thigh. It hasn’t moved since the main course was finished, occasionally giving it a squeeze. 

When the check arrived and you wanted to fish your wallet out of your bag the hand squeezed you again, harder than before. “It’s okay, baby. I’ve got it. This is a celebration for you, after all!” You didn’t order anything of the most expensive stuff, but you still felt bad at him spending money on you. “You don’t have to, you know? I can pay for myself!” He silenced you with a smile and just gave the waiter his card, not letting you see the amount under the line. 

“Thank you, really. You didn’t have to pay for me.” You took both of their hands in yours, squeezing them to really show your thankfulness. “Baby, we wanted to. On top of that, splitting the check would’ve taken too long. I’m quite impatient, to be honest.” Shimizu smiled at you knowingly, only making you blink dumbly. “Impatient?” 

They both laughed at that, Hiro opening the car door for you and Shimizu as you reached the vehicle. “Knowing that you don’t have any underwear on is killing me on the inside.” He murmured into your ear and immediately you felt heat engulfing your entire body. Flushed with embarrassment and excitement you took your seat on the backseat. 

Only then you realized that both of them seemed pretty tense, hurrying already in the restaurant to go home as soon as possible. You had thought that maybe they had another thing planned and apparently you weren’t that far off with your assumption. 

Nervousness was laced in every step you took up to their apartment. “Hey.” You jumped a bit when Shimizu laid a hand on the middle of your back in front of their front door and turned around to face their concerned expressions. “We don’t have to do anything, you know that, right? We can stop at kissing, we can go all the way or something in between.” You nodded. “I want to.” Your voice was quiet but certain. And as soon as you said that she kissed you in a way she hadn’t kissed you before. The prior make out session probably came the closest but with this kiss, you could feel every intention was to get you naked and writhing underneath her. 

Hiro gently pushed you through the now opened door, feeling you up at the same time. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous. And so filthy. Going out without your underwear. How did it feel knowing you were sitting in that room full of people?” His hand sneaked over your backside, squeezing and pinching every bit of flesh available. 

“Did you ever think what you were doing to us? If it was me without any panties I would’ve for sure creamed on the chair with how wet I got at the thought of you.” You whimpered at their dirty talk, unable to form an answer, only trying to make them feel what you felt, hands carefully groping at Shimizu’s breasts, hips rutting into Hiro’s crotch. 

“Come on, baby, go to the bedroom. Today’s about you.” They followed you closely, closing the door behind themselves. 

Immediately the feeling in the room was different. You turned around to face them and came to face with Hiro unbuttoning his shirt and helping Shimizu out of her dress right afterwards. It made the fire of anticipation burn even hotter in your chest. Their hands soon were back on your body again, this time even slightly dipping under your skirt, caressing your bare thighs. “Turn around.” You nearly missed the murmur of Shimizu against your collarbone if it weren’t for her turning you around herself. She pulled the zipper down excruciatingly slow and you felt goosebumps appear all over your body at the way the dress slowly slipped from your figure, different pairs of lips covering every newly exposed skin in light kisses. 

They led you towards the bed, making you lay on your back. It felt weird, having your lower half uncovered but still having a bra on. Apparently, Hiro thought the same thing, releasing you from the garment. “You’re dripping,” Shimizu noted, dipping a finger between your lips and coating it in your essence. “Give me a taste.” You didn’t know you could get even hornier just by watching Hiro lick your arousal from your girlfriend's finger. “Please.” 

Both of them looked at you with a smile on their faces and Shimizu brought her finger back down, softly rubbing at your clit, enjoying the way your body twitched at the small shots of pleasure. “Adorable,” Hiro commented, perching himself next to you on the bed to dedicate himself to your boobs, nipping and licking away at your nipples. 

Your hands twitched towards Hiro, wanting to touch him, too, to do something other than just laying there, but they were immediately swatted away. “Next time, baby.”

You wanted to protest, but Shimizu’s finger slipped into your cunt, wiggling around and making you gasp in surprise. “Hiro, babe, you should continue, you have bigger fingers and we really want to spoil our princess, don’t we?” He pressed one last kiss to your breast, leaving your abused nipples to let his hand wander towards your pussy, not giving you any time to adjust but just pushing his pointer finger inside and relishing in the way you moaned. “Shimizu. Please. I want to do something!” Your breathing became more uneven by the second but you still weren’t content with just laying there doing nothing. “If you’re a good baby and come soon you can eat me out while Hiro fucks you,” she offered you, making your hips twitch towards Hiro’s hands, to speed up the process. Him fucking you with his finger felt good, but you would need more than one to come. “More fingers, please!” He complied with a chuckle and added a second one. 

“Greedy little baby.”

He fastened his pace too, varying between just thrusting his fingers and scissoring and curling them, making all kinds of noises escape your mouth. Shimizu straddled you backwards, facing Hiro and hovering her cunt in your field of vision but just out of reach. You could just grab her and pull her back towards her face but as soon as your hands even twitched by your side Hiro let out a warning growl. “Don’t even think about it or I will tie you up while I fuck her on top of you for hours.”

You whimpered at that, crying out in surprise when suddenly Shimizu began rubbing your clit again. The combined stimulation was already making the knot in your stomach form. You would’ve never thought that just looking at Shimizu’s pussy would do that much to you. You could see her folds glistening and it looked downright delicious. If you breathed in deeply you could even smell her. 

She intensified her rubbing on your clit, leaning down more to take her tongue into the action, lapping at your bundle of nerves without hindering Hiro in his moves. Your moans got louder and you became more and more breathless by gasping for air the whole time. And when Hiro added a third finger, thrusting into you even harder you were done for. 

Spasming under Shimizu’s weight they didn’t halter their movements, holding your legs open to continue. 

Hiro hadn’t even pulled out his fingers completely when Shimizu was already moving back, thrusting her pussy into your face, making you lap up her juices like a starved man. You couldn’t hold back your moans at the way she tasted, relishing in the deliciousness. 

“Here babe.” Hiro thrust his fingers into Shimizu’s mouth, making her gag and as a result her pussy clenched around nothing. How bad you wanted to just finger her, maybe fuck her with a dildo, make er feel good. But you were scared they were going to stop completely when you disobeyed.

All your thoughts vanished when Hiro suddenly pushed his whole length inside you, making you moan loudly against Shimizu’s cunt. “Fuck, you’re doing so good, baby, please keep going, I’m going to cum soon.” She started rutting against your face, trying to rub her clit against your chin, while your whole body shook with every thrust Hiro delivered. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re tight. You’re practically milking me!”

The overstimulation was going to your head, you were already feeling another orgasm approaching. The attempt to rut your hips against Hiro’s was quickly diminished by his large hands holding you down onto the mattress. 

“You look hot, babe.” You could practically hear his grin out of his voice, feeling Shimizu chuckle. Then there were two new sensations. Two fingers slipped between your chin and Shimizu’s clit, rubbing figure eights, as well as on your clit. The pleasure was building up more and more, you couldn’t even try to decipher whose hand was whose, you just wanted to chase your high and apparently they shared your sentiments, since this time nobody intervened when you met every thrust of Hiro with your hips. 

You were the first to come with a loud cry against Shimizu’s cunt, still trying to stick out your tongue to maybe provide her with more pleasure. Shimizu followed with a guttural moan, a new gush of wetness releasing all over your face, getting greedily lapped up by you.

She climbed off of you not long after, chuckling at your whine when Hiro pulled out. “On the floor, on your knees.” Both of you complied instantly, waiting next to each other as he started jacking himself over your faces. 

It didn’t take long until spurts of hot semen shot across your faces, partly landing in you awaiting mouths. “Fuck you look good like that. My girls. I’m so lucky, shit.” He lovingly caressed your chins with his thumbs, pushing some of the excess cum into your mouths. 

You already wanted to swallow, when Shimizu turned your head towards her, connecting your lips together and mixing your spit and cum, probably tasting herself in the process.

When you parted again Hiro looked incredibly proud, helping you back to your feet. “You both did so well. Lay down, I’ll get a towel.”

You had often cuddled with Shimizu, but feeling her naked skin against yours was a whole other feeling. But you weren’t complaining. And when Hiro joined you, too, after having cleaned up your faces and lower parts, it was as if everything was perfect.

You didn’t know why it hurt so much, seeing them walk up the stairs arm in arm. Of course, they were having dates on their own. You sometimes hung out with one of them at a time, too. But something about them being all dressed up and in love without you made pain shoot through your chest. 

You had a really bad day, the weather was shit and you had woken up late, nearly missing one of your most important lectures, only forgetting your umbrella and coming to university wet from the rain, in sweatpants without having brushed your hair and without any makeup on. 

 And now seeing your boyfriend and girlfriend happily coming back from a date after not answering your calls if one of them could pick you up because of the weather, it hurt. 

You couldn’t help the tears that shot into your eyes and in an instant you tried to escape the oncoming situation, dashing towards the elevator, pressing the button to hopefully disappear before they saw you. “Y/N?” Shit. That worked out perfectly. You rushed into the elevator, not being able to repress your sob, immediately pushing onto the buttons that closed the door and the ground floor. “Y/N!” 

Your eyes met for a second and you could see them taking hurried steps towards you when the doors closed. As soon as you were out of their sights the tears didn’t stop falling, the painful twinge in your chest getting stronger by the second. Gasping for air you tried to not cry before being back in your room, which you wouldn’t have for long, anyways. You had been in a relationship for nearly a year and it was in the planning that you would move in with them soon, but you weren’t so sure if you wanted that anymore. You always felt like the add on, especially with them living together and you spend at least two nights a week at your own place before morning classes, since your way to university was shorter that way. 

What you didn’t expect as soon as the doors opened again at the ground floor was Hiro, nearly taking four steps at once, flying down the stairs to pull you into his arms as soon as you even stepped out of the elevator. 

“Please don’t leave.” His voice was strained as he mumbled the words into your ear and at that moment every resistance you had broken down, tears falling freely, soaking his black button-up as you shook in his arms. 

You couldn’t even try to form any words to explain yourself, to bring yourself to turn away, everything that escaped you were loud sobs as he slowly maneuvered you back into the elevator and pressed the floor of their apartment. He was stroking your back constantly, pressing kisses into your head in-between mumbled shhh’s. 

When you were back in front of the apartment the door was already open, Shimizu waiting with a worried expression, rushing towards you as soon as she laid her eyes on you, making you cry even harder.

They settled you onto the couch, caged in their arms without any of you saying a word. 

“Baby..” You were shocked to see tears streaming down Shimizu’s face when you looked up to meet her eyes. How could this affect her?

“I’m sorry,” you finally brought out. “I don’t want you to feel sad!”

“Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. What happened? Did we do something wrong? We didn’t have any connection in the restaurant and when we tried to call you back you didn’t answer.” They had called you? Did your phone die? It must have. You didn’t hear any ringing. “I’m sorry,” you repeated. 

The way they were clinging onto you made you feel incredibly loved. You already didn’t understand how you could ever think they didn’t love you. They had shown you multiple times how much they cherished you but your doubts always got the better of you as soon as you were alone. 

“I’m sorry! I- I had a bad day and then you didn’t pick up and I thought you were tired of me.” Finally, you could give them an explanation. And show them that you really had to apologize for jumping into conclusions and making them worry. You didn’t deserve them.

“Of course we love you, Y/N. We love you so much, I can’t even comprehend sometimes how I can love somebody as much as I love you and Shimizu.” Even Hiro was crying, his face still buried in your hair. 

“But you’re so perfect! And I’m me. I always doubt myself and need constant verification for everything.” 

“That’s the point, though. You’re you. And we love showering you in affection. At least for me, it makes me feel like a goddess, being able to put a smile on your face just by kissing you and giving you handmade lunch for uni.” 

“But you are a goddess,” you pouted, making her laugh slightly. 

“Let us show you again.” Hiro lifted his face, hands cupping your face to wipe your tears away, softly kissing you. “Please let us show you.” 

“Look at yourself, Y/N. You’re beautiful. You’re everything we could ever want in a girlfriend.” They had stripped you bare and sat you on the bed, facing the big mirror on the closet doors. Shimizu was kneeling on the floor between your spread legs, softly kissing the inside of your thighs, smiling at you through the mirror. “Caring for you, making you come, seeing how you’re desperate to please us, and follow our command, it makes us happy. There’s nothing I would want to do more.” To confirm his words Hiro took your hand to rub it over his hard length without allowing you to grab it. “And seeing you cry was horrifying, to be honest.” Immediately you felt bad at Shimizu’s words. Your puffy red eyes were still a constant reminder of that, practically mocking you in the mirror. “So let’s make you cry because of a different reason.” You couldn’t even try to think about what she meant when she dove right in, lapping at your pussy with long strokes of her tongue, nibbling on your lips every now and then. 

You moaned in pleasure, closing your eyes and leaning back against Hiro to really relish in the feelings. “Keep your eyes open, baby. Look at us pleasuring you. Look at us enjoying it.” 

You opened your eyes again and they immediately fell on Shimizu’s face. She was looking up at you from your cunt and you could see so much adoration in her eyes you already felt tears of shame prickling in yours at the memory that you had ever doubted them. 

“Babe.” Shimizu got alerted through Hiro’s call and you also looked in the mirror to see what he was doing behind you, moaning when you caught sight of the double-ended dildo you had often used with your girlfriend, sometimes with Hiro joining in, sometimes with him only watching, sometimes with him only being able to enjoy the aftermaths when he was coming home to you two being completely wrecked, the dildo lying forgotten on the floor. 

“You want us both today?” Shimizu licking her lips after departing from your pussy made you moan again and you nodded wildly only for her to dive right back in, this time lowering herself quite a bit. Hiro adjusted your position, spreading your legs further and making you slide farther towards the edge of the bed so Shimizu could continue prodding at your asshole with her tongue. “I can’t wait, please, finger and lube.” Hiro laughed. “Help her, then.” 

Shimizu detached herself again, moving to the side a bit so you could have the full vision of yourself in the mirror, your own fingers toying with the tight muscle, slightly pushing in even without lube. “Don’t be greedy, baby.” Hiro took it upon himself to take the clear gel and let it drizzle over your fingers, generously coating them. Taking the finger was much easier now and in a matter of minutes, you had two of them in, your arousal only heightening when having eye contact with your partners through the mirror. 

It was unusual for them to be this quiet, normally endless praises would be falling out of their mouths. “I’m ready! Please!” You hadn’t prepared yourself as thorough as usual and by a cock of his eyebrows you realized that Hiro knew that, but he didn’t say anything when he heaved you onto his arms, hovering you over his erect dick. 

“Fuck, I love your ass.” He was nearly halfway in and you felt more stretched than you ever had all the other times you had taken him like this. Your thighs twitched and you slipped even further down, when Shimizu pushed one of her slender fingers into your dripping cunt, wiggling it around slightly. “Don’t be impatient, Mizu. We have time. Look at our princess. She’s dripping.” You moaned at his praise and thanked every god that Shimizu didn’t interpret Hiro’s words as a command to pull her finger back out. “She’s gorgeous. Looking so pretty with her ass filled.” She pressed more kisses on your thighs, only stopping when red bites and bruises were littered across them. 

Hiro slowly pushed the last inches in, letting out a guttural moan when he was finally fully buried within you. Shimizu took that as her cue to start moving her finger, adding a second and third one after a couple of seconds before finally taking the dildo into her hand, holding it up to your mouth. “Don’t just lick. Take it in.” You complied, taking as much of the double-sided dildo into your mouth as possible. “Hold.” She let go from the other side, moving out of the way for you to have a full view of yourself in the mirror again. 

“Look at you. Maybe I should just fuck myself on your mouth, leaving your little cunt empty. Would you like that?” You tried shaking your head without letting the dildo falling out of your mouth. Your pussy was aching to be filled. Tears were already forming in your eyes from the constant strain on your throat, but the proud smile on Hiro’s face only showed you that this was exactly what they wanted to do. Make you cry out of pleasure. 

With one hard tug, Shimizu pulled the dildo out of your mouth, not caring about the trail of spit that fell down your face and chest. The power with which she shoved it into your cunt made the first tears escape your eyes as you yelped in pleasure. “Fuck, yes, please, Mizu, more!” She looked happy with her accomplishment and then she sank down onto your cock, taking the other side of the dildo deep into her mouth until her nose touched your clit, nuzzling it a bit just to toy with you, shaking the dildo doing so and making you shake out of pleasure at the same time. 

She didn’t repeat that maneuver often, the small drops on the floor already evidence enough that she was equally as impatient as you were. 

“Look at yourself. Look how two people are fucking you at the same time.” It was hard to see anything clearly as soon as Shimizu sank down onto the other side of the dildo and both of them began to move, Hiro gripping the middle of the dildo to make it thrust in and out of both of you in an equal pace. “Still think you’re not loved?” 

“No, no! I am loved, I love you, both of you, so much. I’m so sorry I thought otherwise. I love you, I love you!” You couldn’t chant anything else, the pleasure being overwhelming, tears streaming down your face even though you were not sure if that was out of happiness or pleasure. “I- I love you too, baby.” Shimizu’s movements got even faster and she kissed you with all of her heart, shoving every ounce of love in there. 

“Fuck, baby, I’m going to come. Your sweet ass is making me come. I love you so much, baby, shit.” Hiro’s thrusts became harsher, making you snap up into Shimizu, all three of you groaning and moaning while desperately trying to hold on to each other. 

As announced, Hiro came first, filling your ass with his cum, stilling afterwards but still slightly thrusting the dildo between you and Shimizu. 

You didn’t know who of you came first, just that both your movements suddenly stilled, clasped in absolute pleasure, connected at your most intimate parts. 

“Look at you. Does that look like someone who isn’t loved?” You tiredly raised your head, drinking in the picture before you on the foggy mirror. 

It didn’t. Hickey’s were littered across your thighs, Hiro’s come was slightly dribbling out of your asshole and onto his only half-hard dick, Shimizu was covering your top half with her’s, the dildo lying on the floor forgotten, both of your holes still twitching, wetness coating your cunts and thighs. It didn’t look like anyone of you was not loved at all. 

“Thank you.” Your throat was dry from moaning too much and you swallowed a couple of times before continuing. “I’m sorry again for doubting you. I know you love me a lot. I always know.” You kissed both of them and shot them a smile, hoping that they were going to forgive you. 

“Stop apologizing. Everybody has those days from time to time. The most important thing is that you know now again.” Shimizu was nearly sleeping but you couldn’t blame her, the post crying and post-sex exhaustion catching up to you. 

Not much later you were all cuddled up on fresh sheets after taking a short bath to clean yourself from all the sweat, cum, and lube. 

“I love you, Hiro. I love you, Shimizu,” you mumbled contently smiling at their similar answers. Maybe this really was paradise. You may not deserve it, but you certainly weren’t complaining. 

[notnctu]

sugar | s.j ❀

━ listen to: sugar by brockhampton 

❀ johnny suh x fem!reader ❀ genre - smut, angst, fluff? ❀ details - fwb!au, kinda unrequited love? who knows lol, sweet love makin ❀ word count - 2k ❀ synopsis - he’s always a call away, ready to love you when you think no one else will. and this will be the one time you ask him to spend the night because johnny suh is the only sweetener you need in your bitterness. 

❀ a/n: hello its author doie❀! its based off of the song sugar which is one of my favs ever so i hope u enjoy this smut, rlly this was just me avoiding explicit words lol ps i have never laughed harder in my life when @legendnct​​ (ily hannah) asked me if i was J O R N Y when i told her i was writing this at 4am 

The honey dripping, rush of candy goodness, and sugar high of a man --- Johnny Suh. He’s like walking on sunshine, no other cares in the world can harm him, and with a bright happiness that promises anything worth fighting for.

He stands six feet tall of sunflowers that turn up to the clear blue skies and soak up the positive energy needed for growth. Johnny Suh, the man that has sugar addicts craving for a slice of his attention; Johnny Suh is the epitome of goodness and virtue.

And the puzzling, estranged question of why you are his subject of sweetness is beyond any galaxy and he’d never tell a soul his reason behind his many dazed gazes, or if they even had much meaning to them. Johnny Suh is the one boy that wears his heart on his sleeve, but holds your’s at his fingertips.

There have been many countless encounters of long and, some unfortunately short, nights of sleeping with bodies that only add to the list of people you’ve kissed. But to have consistency in that aspect? Quite hesitant, to say the least.

While you are able to tolerate a random one night stand with no necessary remembrance of the individual’s name, to give your vulnerability and consistent attention to one person is asking for too much. A flawed characteristic of yours is falling in love too easily.

The hookups are meaningless, quick fucks to fill the evening and rid the irritable desire of lust. The muscles involved exclude the heart because there is no opportunity to fall for someone if you are only going to part ways right afterwards.

Yet, the one remarkable night with Johnny turned into several nights which led into your current relationship with the glowing sun. The one thing you had wished to steer away from --- a friend with benefits.

There was no metaphorical gun to your head, you weren’t forced to sign a contract, there were no ridiculously restrictive rules. No boundaries to hold you back.

When there is no fencing around the edge of a cliff, is that grounds for people to free fall? Regardless, your lack of self control and demising loneliness had you jumping and falling into Johnny’s comfort. The golden boy is someone hard to come by, and you’re not foolish enough to turn down this once in a lifetime chance to be intimately acquainted.

But as you continued to see him, there was an unconscious decision to stop your other random flings. It felt like you already had someone to fulfill the ache, someone to spend your nights with. If you needed him, he’d be there. So, unknowingly by choice, you made yourself exclusive to him, even though Johnny did not decide to do the same.

That shouldn’t bother you, right? But it does. The worst part is that it’s no one’s fault but your own. Johnny’s harmless actions affect you because your feelings allow them to. As much as you ignore the fact you two are nothing more than friends with benefits, the annoying drumming of your foolish heart reminds you of your denial.

While you’ve always had a bitter palette, the dash of sweetener never hurt anyone. He never hurts anyone, with his best efforts. And the intent should have been made clear, that your nightly hookups are an unhealthy coping mechanism. Too much sugar has your glucose levels derailing and seeking out the one person that lights up your endorphins.

The love for Johnny stems from his warmhearted character. His bubbly, goodwill nature that has him overextending himself for people who take him for granted. An extroverted, head-turning personality that you can’t despise and look away, instead are easily attracted to.

Johnny is kind, he’s thoughtful, yet entirely complex as a human being with a fair share of cloudy days. He is simply someone you want to get to know because he makes the atmosphere a safe space and he reads like an open hardback book.

Everyone has a small crush on him, it would be a complete tyranny of your feelings to deny it. Some infatuations are bigger than others and you’ll shamefully admit that you fit under this group of individuals.

On another lonely night, you wonder if he’d be at your will and call, if he would drop the world to come make you feel better. One moment, you are staring at his contact name and imaging the deep voice answering with his signature greeting. The next, you’re actually hearing his voice on the other end of the receiver and panic settles as it’s too late to cancel the call.

“Hey baby, what’s up?” The nickname sends a crown of hearts swirling around your temples. However, he sounds rushed, like he had been in the middle of a strenuous activity.

A nervousness has stammered words falling from your lips, and you’re too incoherent for even your own mind to understand. Johnny chuckles lovingly, and the slight rustling that distorts the background has you imagining that the phone is pressed between his cheek and shoulder. “Collect your thoughts, babe. I’m ready whenever you are.”

A heavy notable sigh erupts into Johnny’s ear, but he doesn’t pull away from the device. He’s all ears, attentive and patiently waiting for you to speak, despite having company on his bed.

“I need you. Can you come over?” If only pride wasn’t so hard to swallow, the question would have flowed much smoother. As if your heart grew hands, it chokes your throat from the inside and you’re preparing yourself for the rejection.

Truthfully, he isn’t obligated to come and there have been rare nights where he declines your offer. But your hope holds onto the slipping strands and the tension of your nerves have fists forming and eyes squeeze shut.

Johnny takes a fast peek at the girl already in his sheets, mindlessly and effortlessly scrolling through her social media. There is a hint of sadness in your voice that he can’t let go and while that’s usually not entirely uncommon, he can tell it took a lot for you to call tonight. So, he finds himself pulling up his sweats and a clean shirt over his head.

“Be there before you know it.” And the clench in your throat relaxes, along with the other parts that had your nails digging moon crescents into your palm and wrinkles forming at your tight creases.

And with a sweet goodbye, he hangs up the call and politely offers to take the girl home as he makes his way over to your place. And you’re dosing yourself in puffs of fruity scents and cleaning up the runny mascara around your under eyes.

With no words exchanged, Johnny knows every way to heal you and dawn a warmth that coats your darkest corners. All you have to do is open the door and let him in. His strength has you lifted from the ground, lips hungry to devour your softness.

A few fumble steps, he reaches your room at ease and gently lays you on your neatly made sheets. Johnny is consistent, no missed beats when it comes to loving you, and without a fail, he always takes a moment to himself to step back and admire your beauty. And your priceless shyness is also an added delight to the scene.

Each article of clothing is discarded and left at different areas of your small room, kisses lining your worst parts to you, but the best parts to him. When you can’t love parts of yourself, Johnny loves them for you and makes you whole.

“Were you in the middle of something?” It did not become aware to you of the possibility that you had interrupted something else, or someone else. And even if Johnny did choose to see you over spending time with them, you have the decent courtesy to make sure he is okay with his decision.

“Nothing important.” You’ll never be able to read him or notice any lies he tells. His smile is enough reassurance, and your question is quickly forgotten when his fingers dive into your wet flower. He uses his thumb to soothe circles around your growing bud, making your whole lower half blossom with trembling ecstasy.

His lips leave soft reminders to love your thighs, your legs, to not overlook their importance: they carry your graciousness into new ventures. Then, he pushes them wide open as he bends your left knee and your right dangles over his sturdy shoulder. The tight grip on your hip is bound to leave marks the next morning, along with the dark love bites he leaves across your canvas.

But his thoughts are focused on the meal ahead, your sugary juices coat the plush of his tongue. He remembers exactly how you like it, where melodic sounds hit the silence in gasps or groans. He suckles, he licks, he kisses your bead in a speed that has his brown locks tangled in between your fingers.

He drinks up more than your wetness, but also the pure image of your fucked out expression and the twists of your reacting body. He wants to surpass your limits, max you out until there isn’t a hint of melancholy in your tone anymore. To remember, to remind, to recall your happiness through heightened pleasure.

At the announcement of your high, he enters your spasming hole with rubber already on and groans at your walls squeezing around him, which halts him in place. However, the dragged movement of his length hits your sweet spot, your orgasm prolongs into a rapturous euphoria and you’re no longer in control of your body.

Johnny’s toned arms hold you close to him. The chemistry in your gazes has your heart pounding faster than his hips. As ruthless as each thrust is and each push moves you an inch upward on the bed, Johnny’s eyes are still kind and loving.

His fluttering kisses are delicate and nurturing. The marks resemble a healing touch that will settle you enough for the next day. For the night, he rids any angst that corrupts your mood by loving you when you think no one else will.

Together, your bodies fall into one another with a bite of elation as he finishes into the protection and your walls hug around him for the last time tonight. Even when your bodies disconnect, the feeling of fullness lingers and you wish to keep this for as long as you can. No more emptiness, not right now.

Perhaps it's the daze of your orgasm, but your hand reaches for his wrist to stop him from making his exit so soon. Selfishly, carelessly, honestly, this will be the one time you ask for him to spend the night. You can’t stand seeing him go, not at this instant. You refuse to spend one more night alone when your heart longs for him to be by your side when you fall asleep.

While the big heart of his beats speechlessly at your request, he lays down to draw you into his toned chest and pampers your forehead with honeyed pecks. Like many times before, no words need to be exchanged for him to know the remedy to your somber.

Possibly, the scene with Johnny caressing your chin and tracing your smile lines is all too perfect for your imperfect reality. And him whispering and wishing a happier narrative for you is more than what you had asked for. Nonetheless, he’s very good at it, mentally noting the fact that he’s probably done the same to other hookups or broken friends.

While you can get used to this form of aftercare, the guards you put up tell you that this is a one time thing. So, you’ll take and indulge all of Johnny’s affection and false love for the next few hours you had left of the night.

Nevertheless, even sweetness can be an overpowering flavor when consumed in tremendous amounts. And you wonder when you’d grow sick of his candied sugar or if you’d just forfeit your health to keep indulging more into your addiction. A sickly saccharine question of your own will be the pit of your downfall: do you love me?

[matthewtkachuk]

how to be a heartbreaker: rule five - rafe cameron

Rafe Cameron’s privileged upbringing has let him get away with far too much, for far too long. Between his tormenting of the pogues, running his mouth without consequence, and arrogant attitude, it’s time someone knocked him down a peg. Breaking his bones didn’t work, but maybe you can break his heart.

co-authored with my love, freya @rekrappeter

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader, unrequited!JJ x reader

warnings: angst, starting a relationship under false pretences, drinking and drug use

word count: 4.8k

a/n: here she is the last rule. all i have to say is we’re sorry and we love yall so much, don’t cancel us on the dash. please please please leave us feedback, freya and i read every comment and cry, love you guys so much!!

“Is this last rule even necessary?” you rolled your eyes, listening to JJ blabber on and on. John B jumped in now and again to add extra information that JJ glossed over but for the most part, your blonde friend took the lead again.

Kie chimed in, “I don’t think that y/n of all people needs to be reminded not to fall.”

“Yeah, do i look stupid enough to fall for Rafe Cameron’s charms?” You said, giving JJ an inquisitive look. 

JJ smirked at you, shrugging his shoulders, “Look, I trust you but you John B thought it might be a good one to add.” 

“You never know what life could throw at you, kid,” John B chuckled, sipping on his bottle of beer, “to be on the safe side.” 

You stood from the couch, a grin on your face as your hands rested on your hips, you looked at each one of your friends in the eye. “I promise you all now, I will not fall in love with Rafe Cameron.” JJ smirked at your response to the worried looks, reaching out to do your handshake with him before he started to talk about the next rule.

“Rule five: when they call, don’t be the first to fall”

Weeks passed in a blur, punctuated with spending more and more time with Rafe - more movie dates in the back of his truck, spending time at the driving range as he jokingly accused you of embracing your inner kook, taking you for rides on his yacht (which you had to admit was much more impressive than the HMS Pogue), and eventually taking you to that fancy restaurant on the coast. It was also interspersed with less and less time spent with the Pogues, you were pulling away from them whether you realized it or not.

On a night when Pope finally convinced you to spend time with them all, you were perched on a broken lawn chair as your friends sat around the dying fire with you. 

As you sat there, nursing a can of warming PBR, your mind wandered to what a certain kook was doing. You thought about the way he made you laugh, how his body felt against yours, the slow way he claimed your body and your mouth, the look in his eyes after you had both finished, sweaty and spent, wrapped in each other’s arms. You thought about the soft way he played with your hair as you laid your head on his chest, the way it felt to fall asleep next to him, and the soft and quiet joy you felt waking up with his arm around your waist. Panic set in as you realized the implications of your feelings. Your.... feelings. You felt your chest tighten and your eyes widen as you began to comprehend the truth, stupid bet and stupider plan be damned, you were falling for public enemy number one, Rafe Cameron himself. Your mouth went dry and you began to have difficulties breathing. Suddenly a mess of blonde hair was in your face as JJ kneeled in front of you. Despite your earlier fight, you were still his best friend and when JJ noticed you about to slip into a panic attack, he reacted quickly. 

You vaguely recognized the words leaving his mouth as your name and, ‘are you okay?’ but the sight of him was distressing you more. How could you be falling in love with Rafe Cameron when you were already deeply in love with the boy in front of you? The two were bitter enemies, no love lost between them. The thought distressing you more and more you could only shake your head and weakly attempt to push his hands from their place on your knee, gasping out “Pope, I need Pope.”

JJ’s face fell, the realization that he’s no longer the one you turn to for comfort stings but he calls out for Pope, stepping back at letting his friend help you through it. He watched intently as Pope calmed you down, breathing with you and trying to get you to focus on his voice and your surroundings. JJ stumbled over a branch, watching you grip to Pope like a lifeline, and he realized then that he lost you. He hasn’t seen you in weeks, and if he did, it was for ten minutes maximum. He’d come by your house and it’d be empty, he’d wait in your bedroom and each time your bed looked as if it hadn’t been used in days. His messages went unanswered and it was getting hard to ignore the gossip of Rafe Cameron dating a pogue that fell off every middle aged woman’s tongue as he mowed their lawn. 

He took one last look at you before turning his back to his friends and stalking away from the chateau with only one mission evident in his blurry mind. He ignored the protests of Kie and John B, feeling his friend grip his wrist to stop him but he made a clear break to his bike, jumping on it and starting the engine, making a beeline to figure eight. 

An hour or two later you were making your way down the beach away from your friends. You had noticed JJ wasn’t there when you’d finally calmed down in Pope’s arms, but you just shrugged it off, assuming he’d found some blonde barbie touron and gone home with her. Your heart was pounding in your chest at the anticipation of seeing Rafe, he had messaged you earlier to meet him down by the lifeguard station. Despite your earlier freak out, you knew that your feelings for Rafe were genuine and you couldn’t wait to see him, to put all this behind you and start a real relationship with him, if he’d have you.

Spotting his tall figure sitting on the beach, you smiled to yourself and approached him quietly, covering his eyes with your hands and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. You felt him tense up, and your brows furrowed, Rafe had never acted so stiffly around you. Not since you’d started whatever was going on between you. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he spoke lowly, sounding as though his throat was raw as he pulled your hands off of him. 

“D-Do what?” you asked, stepping in front of him and grabbing his face in your hands. He leant into your touch for a moment, eyes closed before they slowly opened, revealing his red eyes. 

“Pretend,” he looked right into your eyes and deep into your soul as you felt your heart shatter. 

“Pretend? Rafe?” you don’t know why you were asking him, the realization had set in quickly that JJ wasn’t off with some touron, he was off ruining your happiness. Rafe stood up from the sand, his stature towering over you but he didn’t look as intimidating or as confident as he usually did, he looked heart broken. You had done it, you thought bitterly to yourself. You had perfected how to be a heartbreaker.

“Maybank told me everything, your stupid little plan, the stupid bet. All of it,” 

 “R-Rafe,” your voice broke, taking a step closer to him but he stumbled away from you, “It’s not what you think.”

Rafe scoffed drily, shaking his head, “You’re going to do that now? I know everything, y/n! You can’t fucking deny it! I trusted you with things, I-I opened up to you about everything… my mother,” he cried, ignoring the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. He didn’t care how he looked in this moment, he couldn’t care less if someone was filming him to expose him at some big party; he fell in love with you and he was broken, he wanted you to know how you made him feel.

“Rafe, when I agreed to do this, I wasn’t thinking about the ending… I was just thinking about how to get back at you for all the shit you put us through.”

A loud, heavy sigh passed his lips and the anger furried behind the agony, “That’s the problem with you and your fuckin pogues,” Rafe snapped,  “You think you’re all innocent and I'm this awful monster you can pin the blame on. As if Maybank doesn’t start half, if not more of our fights, as if he’s never said something disgusting about my sister to me thinking he could get away with that. As if you didn’t pretend to fall in love with me just to see the look in my eyes when you tell me it was all a lie.” 

“Yes, okay, I admit it, I was pretending at the start,” you shouted at him, feeling all your emotions piling over the edge, “But I wasn’t pretending for the last few weeks. Rafe I-” You blinked back tears, sobs threatening to rip from your lips, “I fell in love with you too.”

“How do I know you aren’t pretending right now? I bet that would be real funny to you and your friends, convince me that you’re in love with me too just to make it hurt even more when you pull the rug out for real.” He shook his head in utter disbelief. He couldn’t believe he had been so wrong about you. He thought that you cared for him, that you wanted him as badly as he wanted you. When JJ had showed up at his house, Rafe hadn’t believed him at first, you couldn’t be that cruel. But the look on your face when he said ‘you don’t have to do that’ confirmed it all for him. Rafe thought the worst pain he would ever feel in his life was standing over his mother’s casket at her funeral, but this came close. 

“I'm not, Rafe, trust me… I’ve never felt this way about anyone and yes, I’ll forever regret how it started but-”

“You already won, you don’t have to pretend anymore,” he shook his head, interrupting you and turning to walk away.

“Rafe, stop!” you begged, grabbing onto his wrist, but he easily shook you off. 

“Congratulations, you got what you wanted, I fell in love with you,” Rafe muttered, disdain dripping from his tongue,  “I hope you and Maybank are really happy together, don’t ever speak to me again,” he snarled, giving you one last look before he walked away from you. 

“Rafe, please,” You begged, before you felt your knees give out, collapsing into the sand. The sobs you had barely been keeping at bay finally escaped your lips, the sound heart wrenching to anyone who was unfortunate to be near enough to hear them.

JJ must have been nearby, because he was on you in a second, “y/n?!” He was gripping your shoulders, attempting to pull you in for a hug, but you shoved him as hard as you could away from you, and frantically clawed at the sand to propel you backwards, away from him.

"This is all your fault!" You wanted to scream and shout at the top of your lungs, but you couldn't, your voice was a weak whimper. JJ watched you intently, his heart slowing at the sight of you, tears streaming down your face. He can count the amount of times he'd seen you cry on one hand, and it was a sight he wanted to erase from his mind completely.

"Y/n, i-" but he didn't know what to say. He knew what he'd done, he wasn't thinking about you when he said those words. He was solely focused on breaking Rafe's heart that he never considered yours.

“I know you couldn’t ever love someone like me, but that didn’t mean you had the right to stop everyone else from it. Am I that repulsive, that disgusting that you feel the need to ruin any chance I have at happiness?” You sobbed, head falling into your hands. You knew JJ would never love you the way you wanted, and you knew that he was always threatening boys to keep them away from you, but you never thought he would actually do this.

“Y/n, that’s- that’s not-” he was struggling to find the words to say to show you that wasn’t how he felt about you at all. 

"I-I'm done, JJ, I'm done chasing something that will never happen," You shook your head, voice hoarse from the screaming and the crying. The one man you wanted to wrap his arms around you and comfort you couldn’t even look at you anymore; the man you shared the softest of moments with in such a short span of time, the man that made you feel something, made you feel wanted and loved. 

“Y/n, we can work this out,” JJ pleaded, kneeling down in front of you but you shook your head, pushing him away again. “You’re my best friend and I love you, y/n.”

You choked out a strangled laugh, “Love? Fuck you JJ, you don’t know the meaning of the word.”

“That’s not true, I know I love you.” He pleaded again, stupidly reaching for you a third time. But this time his fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you to him and he crashed his lips against yours. You struggled against him, his grip strong and tight until you bit his lip. He let go of your wrists in shock and you took the opportunity to slap his cheek as hard as you could. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You cried at him, “You can’t just do that to me JJ. You know that I have been in love with you our whole lives, you don’t get to do this right now. You don’t get to do this ever.” You finally managed to get up, tears falling from your face.

“Y/n, I-” he started again, realizing that he had well and truly fucked up this time, possibly ruining your friendship beyond repair.

“Congratulations, you broke Rafe Cameron’s heart… but you also broke mine.” You spit at him and walked into the night.

JJ sat there on his knees for a moment in shock, staring at his hands that had just held you. His lips were tingling with a kiss that he had craved since the first and last time when you were both fourteen. But it was all wrong. He had waited too long, thinking that you would always just be there in the wings, waiting for him to get his shit together and then you could be together. He had always just taken for granted his beautiful best friend, the one who he swore up and down he didn’t have feelings for, but deep down he always knew he did.

One minute, he’s wallowing in the consequence of his actions, the next, Pope is shoving him, telling him to ‘get up’.

“You idiot!” Pope shouted. JJ had never seen his best friend this mad before, and never at him. Not when JJ had pulled that gun on Topper, not when they had sunk that boat, not even when JJ had attacked you for sleeping with Rafe. But here Pope was, practically shaking with rage that was all directed at him. “When I said tell her how you feel, I didn’t mean destroy her relationship with Rafe and attack her with your face.”

“Yeah, but it was a relationship with Rafe. Cameron.” JJ enunciated the syllables of his enemies first and last name. 

“A relationship that you unconsciously set up, and no matter who it is with, y/n is our best friend! We should support it, but we’ll never get the chance now because y/n is a sobbing mess in the house adamant that Rafe wants nothing to do with her. Because of you!” 

“I- I didn’t want to hurt her,” JJ lamely replied, eyes downcast on the sand rather than look into the rightfully furious eyes of his best friend.

“And what did you think was going to happen when you exposed the plan to Rafe? Or when you tried to kiss y/n right after her heart was torn out of her chest, huh? What is wrong with you?”

“I wasn’t really thinking, man,” JJ ran his hands over his face, exhaling loudly. 

“Clearly,” Pope replied drily, shaking his head at the idiocy of his best friend, wondering if there was a way to fix this, or if JJ had ruined everything.

Only a few feet away, you lay curled up against Kie’s side as she stroked your hair and let you cry on her shoulder. “I love him, Kie, I love him and he wants nothing to do with me. And he’s right to want nothing to do with me. What do I do?”

“Right now, you sleep it off.” She said softly, not understanding your love for the boy who had only ever made your friends’ lives hell, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t support it, support you. You loved her for that.

“And then?” You whispered sleepily, the exhaustion of the last hour of your life seeping deep into your bones.

“I believe if two people are meant to be together, eventually they’ll find their way back.” 

Tag list:

htbah taglist (link to add yourself to the google form in the series masterlist!): 

@solllaris @drewswannabegirl @starrystarkey93 @httpstarkey @sweetlysilent @drewstarkey @dontjinx-it @ultranikilove @spencereidbasis @meaganjm @starlightstarkey @thortheestallion @jiaraendgame @idocarealot @tempestuousjj @pink-meringues @dpaccione @arianabrashierstuff @softstarkey @loveylangdon @xenagzb @teenwaywardasgardian @prejudic3 @nxsmss @canibeoneofthepogues @outerbanksbro @obx-direction-sos @nqbmf @digniteas @annedub @colorful-queen-of-the-roses @yesp0ny @loveniallandharryonedirection @fantasticpsychicfanfish @girls-breaking-hearts @beautyandthebleh @casper17 @mozz-are-lla @parkershoco @unfortunatekiwitrash @loverofmineluke @slutforjjmaybank @skiesofthesketchy @httpstarkey @sugarcoatedcalum @amorisxx @trinnwazheree @stargazingstarkey @obx-saltlife @juliarose21​ @hyperactive2411​ @mcarignan​ @feyrecauldron-blessed​ @sportygal55​ @popcrone818​ @wtfkie​ @raekenliar @letsgotothehop​ @walkingtothesun​ @outerbanksbro​ @summerkaulitz​​ @glux64​ @itslilithsstuff​ @softsunlightskies @kaitieskidmore1​ @mycowatemyhw​​ @poguepunk​​

rodeo rafe babies who said they were interested:

@royalmerchant​ @outerbankslut​ @honeyycheek​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @ilovejjmaybank​ @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless​ @girlsru1eboysdroo1​ @https-luna​ @butgilinsky​ @rae131415​

diverdcwn everything taglist:

@velyssaraptor​ @danicarosaline​ @copper-boom​ @x-lulu​ @prejudic3​ @downbytheouterbanks​ @ilovejjmaybank​ @bricksatanakinswindow​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @sunwardsss​ @rudyypankow​ @im-a-stranger-thing​ @alexa-playafricabytoto​ @maybankfullkook​ @sortagaysortahigh​ @socialwriter​ @bluesiderudy​ @anxietyandtacos​ @diverrdown​ @stargazingstarkey​