#anyway yeah hi i am sitting on my bed chin in hands kicking my feet like a daydreaming teenage girl and thinking of julien and mathilde

[the-starry-seas]

Oh oh me!! May i get a techo with tech jr drabble pretty please? I NEED to see them being cat parents

i asked for drabbles and immediately went to bed, who am i

"I have decided. We must alter our domicile to be safer for such a companion," Tech insists, not looking up from his datapad as he adds the thirty-seventh pint to the list.

Echo uses his spring-loaded catapult finger to fling a raisin at him, since they're objectively the worst fruit, and Tech's been talking about this for two hours instead of paying any attention to him.

Tech pauses, shakes his head to dislodge the raisin from the side of his glasses, then looks up. "You are not taking this seriously."

"She's lasted this long. I think she'll be okay. And it's not like you're going to clear out your bunk."

"Why would I do that?"

"You have a live wire in there."

"I have intentionally left it that way." At Echo's sudden change of expression, he decides he should clarify. "In case you need to charge your legs."

That is not true, but Echo's expression changes again, for the better this time, as far as Tech can tell. That seems better than the scrunchy frown sort of thing it was doing a minute ago. He might not be good at recognising expressions, or emotions, but he knows when Echo's making a face that will be followed by something else being thrown.

"Why are you worried about her now, anyway?" Echo asks. There's a change in his voice that Tech usually associates with Omega getting some kind of mild injury. Concern, likely.

Tech isn't about to admit that Junior was nosing around at a live wire. Instead he says, which is also true, "I have researched the standard operating procedure for introducing a new animal into a social unit. A primary concern is removing any hazards from the environment. I now have a list of things to check for."

"A list," Echo echoes, in a tone of voice that usually results in him swatting Hunter or Crosshair upside the head for something. He sighs and shakes his head a little, a smile curling up the corner of his mouth before he gets up from the co-pilot's seat. "Okay, hon. Enjoy yourself. I'm gonna lay down."

Tech looks up so suddenly that his goggles shift. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah, just got a pinch in my hip." He leans down to kiss Tech's forehead, then tilts Tech's chin up with his knuckle to kiss his lips.

Tech doesn't realise for several minutes that he's staring at the now-empty doorway, a smile on his own face.

His plan to tooka-proof the ship works well, in his opinion. Hunter will be complaining about all his knives being moved, but that's Hunter's problem, and he should have thought of that before now, frankly, because the others have all yelled at him for it before.

Somehow, it also takes four hours. He hadn't realised that part until Junior screams at him, and he checks the clock on his datapad to see if her food bowl needs to be refilled.

There's a smiley face drawn on the erasable board above her food bowls, with the date and time next to it. Echo's handiwork, he knows. The wonky line of the smile itself is... strangely endearing.

"You do not need food," he tells Junior.

She screams at him again, and wraps around his ankle to kick at it with her back feet. He waits for her to stop. She does, but when he tries to leave the galley, she follows him and starts biting again.

He goes to get the last of the caf that Hunter left in the machine. She smacks his hand until he has to let go. Well, if he can't go back to the cockpit, and can't get any caf... what is he supposed to do? Go to bed?! That's entirely unreasonable!

Junior sits in the doorway leading to the cockpit, her tail flicking back and forth in a way that he knows is dangerous.

He knows when to admit defeat, so he scurries the other way, hoping to outrun her.

It takes him a few minutes to realise that she's herding him toward Echo's hammock. Fortunately Echo himself is awake, browsing something on his own datapad. He squints over the edge of the screen at Tech and smiles.

"Hey," he says. "Junior got fed up with you being awake, huh?"

"She would not stop biting me," Tech explains.

Echo raises an eyebrow. "So you brought her over here?"

In hindsight, not the best choice. He has no good answer to that, so he just carefully clambers his way into the hammock. Echo's mood almost always evens out when Tech is touching him. Tech finds it fascinating.

And true to form, after a few grumbles under his breath, Echo calms and shifts slightly to be facing him. And then a new look of concern crosses his face.

"She's never seen me without my legs."

Ah, yes. Echo takes his legs off to rest, and Junior prefers to keep to her own devices at night. What, exactly, he's not sure, but there's been several times that Wrecker's woken up the whole ship by screaming because she ran up to him in the dark and bit him.

Tech has no immediate answer to this, and stares at Echo's waist as he tries to figure it out. Junior's seen him working on Echo's spare leg before, so maybe she knows something...

His thoughts are interrupted by Echo pulling a blanket up, hiding himself from sight.

Tech blinks at him.

"You were staring," Echo says stiffy.

"Sorry," Tech says, because that has an 83% chance of beginning to defuse the situation, even when he doesn't know what he did. And besides, he can't try to spin it in a better light. Echo has a thing about even making out when Junior's watching them.

Something furry and sharp hits him right in the spleen as Junior hops into the hammock with them.

"Unfortunate aim," he says, wheezing a little. It's been a while since he brushed up on his knowledge of internal organs, but he's fairly sure he still needs that particular one intact.

"I dunno, I think she did a good job."

Apparently Echo has no intention of helping.

"I believe we should consider doing something about this," Tech says, trying not to sound nervous at the way Junior starts clawing gently at his chest. Kneading, Echo calls it, and insists it's normal. Tech is still unconvinced. It seems to him that she could be attempting some kind of revenge for not feeding her a second dinner.

His concerns about revenge are assuaged when Junior smashes her face into his throat, like she typically does to show affection. He has no idea why, but he kisses the top of her head like he always does. She'll start biting him otherwise. He's a bit nervous about that too.

"You're adorable," Echo says, tucking an arm behind his head, careful not to elbow Tech in the face.

"I am a scientist," Tech corrects him with a sniff.

"Maybe scientists can be adorable."

"'Adorable' is not a quantifiable descriptor."

"Leave the quantifying to me, babe, it'll be fine."

"Very well. I trust your judgment."

Echo smiles at that, the kind that seems- different, from usual, in a way that Tech still can't describe. In a way that only Tech has seen.

"Did you get your standard operating procedure done?" he asks.

His voice is a little quieter than before. In the calm way, Tech assures himself, not the pained way.

"I finished approximately 93% of scheduled procedures."

"Seems pretty good."

"Junior would not let me finish."

"Yeah? How's that?"

Tech doesn't want to admit that the tooka chased him all through the ship, but Echo can always tell when he tries to lie, so he does.

The way Echo laughs makes it worth it.

Junior pops her head up at that, and stomps across another two or three of Tech's vital organs on her way to sniff at Echo's face. He doesn't seem to know what to make of that. Then again, neither does Tech. So far, Junior has only really paid attention to Tech, except when she occasionally hunts one of the other Batchers for her own entertainment. Tech can understand that impulse.

He thinks they're both surprised when Junior curls up on Echo's stomach and starts purring.

"Should I do something?" Echo whispers.

"You should probably refrain from rolling over."

"I'm not going to do that, you dingus."

Well, there's no need to be rude.

"Then I am sure you will be fine," Tech says. "Junior is a wonderful companion." When she's not biting.

Junior is currently doing an impressive impersonation of the rock grinder that Echo got Tech for their last enniversary. She even rolls over, stretching all four legs out.

"I know better," Echo tells her.

Tech doesn't, and scratches at her stomach until she starts biting him again. She doesn't draw any blood, so he assumes she doesn't mind. There's been apologies for blood before, among all the Batch. She's simply one of them.

"Do you like her?" Tech asks.

Echo glances at him curiously. "Yeah. Were you worried about that?"

"Yeah," Tech admits. Echo means everything to him. Tech doesn't want to have to choose between him and Junior. They're both too important.

"Don't worry. We'd figure it out."

Hm. They do seem likely to do that.

"We have a sufficient rate of success when it comes to Junior," he agrees, and takes his goggles off before Echo can fuss at him for falling asleep in them again. He stretches, like Junior had, and curls up at Echo's side, not-so-subtly kicking the body pillow off the end as he does.

From the snort Echo gives, he knows exactly what Tech's doing, but he doesn't comment. Instead he cautiously brings his hand up to rest on Junior's back. She begins licking his wrist, and doesn't seem to mind when he snorts another laugh.

Tech falls asleep to the sound of Junior purring, and the warmth of Echo at his side. It's exceptional.

[andessence]

not me clowning over mr julien sorel le-rouge-et-le-noir and his sensitive and angry bitch behavior.... not me losing it over ms. mathilde de la mole le-rouge-et-le-noir and her rich girl goth stylings

[baroquebucky]

fool for you

bucky just wants to be with you forever

word count: 1.9k

masterlist

a/n: hi bffs !! hope u are all well <33 pls enjoy this v fluffy one shot inspired by own post :’ ) let me know what u all think !!

You were tired, your eyelids felt heavy and you struggled to pay attention to the tv. Your head falling to the side as you drifted off, eyes shooting open when you realized you were falling asleep. You got up quickly, splashing your face with water and settling back on the couch, rubbing your eyes and focusing on the tv again.

1:57 a.m.

You checked your phone in hopes of a “five minutes away :)” text from bucky, but there was none. You yawned again and changed the channel, flipping through some channels to try to wake you up before deciding to just switch to netflix instead.

You smiled as your favorite show played, nuzzling into the blanket bucky had given you and focusing on the show. The sound of keys rattling woke you up, you hadn’t even realize you had fallen asleep.

“shit” bucky whispered as the door slammed into the wall. “sorry” bucky spoke, apologizing to the wall before dragging his suitcase as quietly as he could. He kicked off his boots and his eyes landed on you asleep on the couch.

“buck?” you mumbled, willing your eyes open. Your vision was fuzzy and you could hear the tv still playing, you moved a little, forgetting you were on the couch and slipped off the edge. You couldn’t even process that you had fallen by the time bucky caught you in his arms, smiling at you.

“hi doll” bucky smiled at you, kissing your forehead gently and easily lifting you in his arm. He turned the tv off and carried you into your shared room, gently placing you on the bed.

“what time ‘s it?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes and yawning, finally waking up.

“almost 3” he smiled at you softly, rummaging through his drawer and taking out a change of clothes. You nodded as he pulled out a black t shirt and some boxers, walking towards you and kissing your temple.

“I’m gonna shower doll, you can go to sleep” he assured you and you nodded, knowing full well you’d end up waiting up for him anyway.

“don’t slip” you smiled and he rolled his eyes, waving you off with a small smile on his face.

“it was one time!” He groaned before closing the door to the restroom.

You smiled to yourself as you heard the shower turn on, rolling over to your side and closing your eyes. The sleep that had been taking over you earlier was nowhere to be found. You kicked the covers off you and groaned, frowning as you stared at the ceiling. You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and scrolled through Twitter for a while, waiting for bucky to finish showering so you could cuddle up to him and fall asleep.

You could feel yourself growing hungry, glancing at the time on your phone you frowned a bit, it was already 3:07 am. you drank some water and tried to fall back asleep, cuddling into your pillow and letting out a soft sigh when you finally got comfortable. Right as you were finally going to sleep bucky opened the restroom door, the sound making your eyes shoot open and heart race. 

“did I wake you?” bucky whispered, a frown on his face as he heard your heart rate quicker than usual. You shook your head with a small smile. He knew you were lying but he didn't say anything, he just threw his dirty clothes in the laundry basket and settled next to you under the covers. He threw his right arm around you, pulling you closer to him and kissing the top of your head. 

“g’night doll” he mumbled and closed his eyes, already falling asleep from how exhausted he was. 

“goodnight buck” you replied softly, closing your eyes and relishing in the feeling of his arm around you. It was silent, with only the sounds of the city flowing through the Brooklyn apartment. 

Then your stomach growled, causing bucky to looked at you with wide eyes and you stifled a giggle. You mumbled a ‘sorry’ before closing your eyes again, hoping it wouldn't keep growling. 

You were wrong. Your stomach was relentless, and finally you got up, slipping from Bucky grasp and scurrying into the kitchen to find something to eat. Bucky felt your absence almost immediately, he opened his eyes and frowned, getting up and making his way into the kitchen. 

“didnt mean to wake you angel” you apologized as he walked towards you. He shook his head and wrapping his arms around you, letting his chin rest onto of your head. His eyes fluttered closed as you relaxed into him, your arms snaking around his waist and leaning your head against his chest. The sound of the microwave made you pull away from him, grabbing the hot cup of Mac and cheese and setting it on the dining table, Bucky soon following you and sitting next to you. 

“now im hungry” he frowned and you laughed, giving him some of your Mac and cheese which he gratefully ate. Within minutes the small bowl of Mac and cheese was empty, the two of you still hungry.  You stared at bucky, a small smile creeping onto both of your faces. You were both thinking the same thing. 

“no we shouldn't” you shook your head and bucky agreed. 

“yeah no its almost 4 we should get to bed” he replied, you both got up, making eye contact before bursting into a fit of giggles and smiles, heading straight towards the kitchen and definitely not bed. You pulled your phone out and put on some music. 

“you were thinking about French toast right?” you asked and bucky smiled, already opening the fridge for the ingredients, you grinned and you opened the pantry to get the other things you needed. You both sang along to the music softly, swaying to the beat. 

As bucky made the mix you grabbed the bread and two plates, heating up the pan and putting some butter on it, letting it melt. You moved easily in the kitchen with bucky, ever since you had moved in together everything just seemed to work for you guys. 

As you dipped the bread into the batter before putting it in the pan. Turning to bucky and using the spatula as a microphone, singing along to some 40s song you had added for bucky. You smiled as he took the spatula from your hand, setting it down and grabbing your hands, dancing along to the song. 

Bucky had the brightest smile on his face as you followed his lead, letting him twirl you around as the song played. You looked up at him as he danced with you, meeting his light blue eyes. Your eyes met and bucky couldn't stop himself. 

“I can't wait any longer oh my god” he rushed out, letting go of you and rushing back into the bedroom, leaving you along in the kitchen. 

You frowned, did you do something wrong? You focused back on the French toast, flipping the slice so it wouldn't burn before placing it on Buckys plate. You frowned as you looked for the powdered sugar. Realizing you hadn't taken it out you turned around to get it, your back to the bedroom door. As you searched for it your mind raced, was he breaking up with you? Was he just really tired?

Meanwhile Bucky was rummaging through all his drawers, wondering where the hell he put the ring he picked out with Steve seven months ago. His heart was racing as he heard you cooking the french toast, confused as to why he left you. Finally he found the black velvet box in the back of his sock drawer, smiling as he ran back out to meet you in the kitchen. 

Bucky saw you facing the drawer, so he wasted no time sneaking up behind you and getting down on one knee silently, opening the small box to reveal the ring. 

You finally found the powdered sugar, opening it and turning around. You turned quickly, eyes immediately landing on bucky, right in front of you. 

On one knee. With a ring.

You dropped the powdered sugar, causing it to land all over you, bucky and the ring. Your hands flew to your mouth as he smiled at you brightly.

“are you joking? this is a joke right?” you questioned and bucky shook his head, still on one knee despite having powdered sugar all over his shirt. 

“y/n I love you so much, I wanna spend forever with you. Everything feels so right with you I just- its like we’re just meant to be, I can't imagine a life without you. I wanna make you happy, I wanna travel the world with you, I wanna dance in the kitchen at 3 am and make French toast at ungodly hours with you for the rest of my life” he rambled, you felt your ears burning as he continued, your mind still processing that he was actually proposing. 

“-I love how competitive you are and how excited you get over anything and everything, I just love you so much-” he cut himself off when he looked at you for the first time since he started rambling, smiling softly up at you as you looked at him, fondness in your eyes and a tear rolling down your cheek. 

“will you marry me?” he spoke, breathless. 

Never in your life have you nodded so quickly. 

“yes, of course yes” you whispered and bucky smiled, jumping to his feet as you cupped his face, crashing your lips onto his, smiling into the kiss. You pulled away with a sniffle, smiling as he took your hand and slid the ring on, he blushed at the sight of it. 

You looked at each other with a smile, kissing once more before you realizing the french toast was cold by now. You pulled away quickly, grabbing the powdered sugar bag from the floor and sprinkling some lightly on your plates. 

“sorry about all that” you laughed, motioning to the powdered sugar all over the two of you and the floor. Bucky just grinned, waving it off as the two of you ate the French toast, a smile never leaving either of your faces. Both pf you giggling as the sun came up and birds began to sing. 

Not long after you finished Bucky cleaned up your mess, you changed into one of his t shirts and slipped into bed, a smile on your face as he walked into the room, taking his shirt off and slipping out of his sweats before moving into bed next to you. 

You wasted no time as he laid on his back, moving his arm so you could rest your head on his chest. He cradled you gently as you got comfortable, kissing the top of your head once you settled in. 

“love you so much angel, can't wait until we get to spend forever together” you mumbled with a smile on your face, already drifting off to sleep. Bucky smiled at your words, letting his fingers run through your hair. 

“and I love you more than yesterday” he whispered, “but less than tomorrow.”

Bucky meant his words. He meant them with everything he was. He fell in love with you everyday. He always found himself falling deeper and deeper, but he never complained. Now could fall in love with you for the rest of his life.

[sunmoonandeddie]

and he kissed me right here

pairing: modern!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 6,100

summary: I've always been sure that all I ever wanted was a glamorous life.

warnings: Cuss words, mentions of the Afghanistan war (Bucky is a veteran), angst, happy ending, cheesy romantic confessions, age gap

a/n:  This is based on the song 'Stars and the Moon' from Songs for a New World! It's the first one shot in my musical series! This is written in first perspective, but there is no physical description or use of a name in this!

Twenty-Two

I sighed as I tossed a few more dirty plates into the dish window, wiping my brow. After a shitty dinner rush and an even shittier rush around two in the morning consisting only of drunk ass college kids looking for some sort of carb to suck up all the alcohol in their systems, I was ready to go the fuck home.

“Sweetheart, you head on home now,” the head chef insisted as he watched my head nod slightly as I tried my best to fight off sleep. “Ain’t nobody comin’ in before Melissa gets here. No point in you staying on your feet any longer.”

Louis was a godsend. At sixty-seven years old, you’d think he would rather be anywhere but a diner at almost four in the morning.

“Nah,” he had said when I’d asked him a few months after I’d first started. “My Ginny died a few years back, and since she’s been gone, I don’t really have the stomach to sit around that house all alone.” He had laughed, but there’d been a deep sorrow that had come over his deep brown eyes. “Kids are worried, but… Sleeping the day away is better than laying up at night staring at her side of the bed…”

“You sure, Lou?” I asked even as I headed for the back room where all the employees clocked in and kept their possessions in their own little cubbies. I did my checkout in view of the security camera, just like always. I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I stole anything.

Everyone who knew me knew that I wouldn’t, but I’d worked at two many places where the girls tried backstabbing each other and sabotaging everyone else to get them fired.

Though people were a lot nicer in Louisiana than any of the other places I’d lived.

Louis chuckled as he set a to-go box in the window, nodding towards it. “Mmhm. Long as Buck is getting you home safe.”

I gave him a joking eye roll as I took the to-go box gratefully, grinning at my name written in all caps with green Sharpie on top. “You know you don’t have to make me dinner every night.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, shooting me a look. “How else do I know you’re getting enough food in you, huh?” He pointed his rag at me. “Now you go ask him to get you home. Tell him I said he can clock out, and that he’s supposed to text me when he sees you safe inside. You better not say you’re gonna ask him again just to walk yourself home.” The old man shook his head as I headed for the back door, muttering to himself, “Damn girl thinks I’m gonna believe she’s feeding herself good enough when she’s risking her damn ass walking home alone.”

Despite the fact that I’d put off asking for Bucky Barnes’s service, I really did appreciate how fiercely Louis cared about me.

It had been a real long time since anyone had cared so much.

I hesitated at the back door of the diner, my hand resting against the cool metal.

What if he said no?

Granted, he most likely wouldn’t. But what if he said yes, and he secretly thought me some dumb little girl that couldn’t take care of herself?

What did I care if he thought that?

“I don’t care what he thinks of me,” I huffed as I straightened my shoulders, holding my chin a little higher.

“Stop talking to yourself and get going!”

I jumped in surprise, before shooting a glare in the direction of the kitchen. “Stop listening in on my private conversations!” I demanded before storming outside with new found vigor.

Only to freeze when Bucky looked up from where he was sitting on the curb, smoking a cigarette.

God, he was handsome.

“You okay, doll face?” He asked, his New York accent a sharp contrast to the southern drawls you were used to.

“Um… Y-Yeah,” I said faintly, glancing back at the door that I’d come in from. “Um… L-Louis wants me to ask you… Can you walk me home? Or give me a ride? I don’t… I don’t know if you drive…”

“I do drive.”

“O-Oh. Okay. Great.”

“But I don’t have my car on me.”

I peered at him curiously. “Oh. Um… I can just walk by myself. I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna be a nuisance…”

He stood up, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out. “Don’t be ridiculous, darlin.’ Come on. I’ll walk you.” He shoved his hands in his pockets as he began to head for the street. “Besides… It’s a real nice night.”

“Oh…,” I said in surprise at how ready he was to be of service. “Okay. But only if you’re sure.”

A faint smile graced his lips as he glanced at the ground, letting out a faint chuckle that rumbled deep in his chest. “I’m sure, darlin.’ But you gotta lead the way.”

I was surprised by the rapid pitter patter of my heart beat as we walked side by side down the street, the chorus of ‘Yellow Brick Road’ getting stuck in my head on a loop.

Bucky was an enigma that I found myself wondering about more often than not, but I always ended up talking myself out of going there. After all, he was an older man. A much older man. At least fifteen years older than my own twenty-two years, or something along those lines, not that he looked it. The man looked like some kind of rugged Greek god. Like Hades if Hades was born in the eighties. His dog tags clinked together under his shirt as we walked, his metal prosthetic glinting in the moon.

“So how did you end up in NOLA?”

It took me a moment to even realize that he was talking to me, my heart skipping a beat and my face going hot in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” I asked.

His bright blue eyes flickered over to look me over. “How’d you end up in New Orleans?”

“I actually don’t know,” I snorted, avoiding his eyes as I kicked at a few broken up pieces of asphalt. “I just… Picked a bus ticket and ended up in one of the Carolinas. Then I picked another bus ticket and ended up in Minnesota. And then I picked another, and another, and another, and then I actually just… ended up here.” The months I’d spent alone on those Greyhounds felt both so long ago and also like it was just yesterday. “The diner was the first place someone recommended for food that’s good but cheap, and as I was eating my mountain of cheese fries, I saw the flyer that said they were hiring. So here I am now…”

“Huh,” he said, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t take you for the type of person to run off on your own… riding buses all over the country…”

Head tilting to the side, I gave him a long look. “You didn’t? What kind of type did you peg me for?”

Bucky gave me a long look, a single brow raised as though silently telling me that I jumped to conclusions. “Just that jumping from place to place can take a lot outta someone,” he said slowly, his voice low and soothing. “Hell, if you were my girl—” He broke off as his cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink, his long hair falling in his face.

I swore my heart had stopped inside of my chest, and I swallowed thickly around the lump in my throat. “Oh?”

He rushed to try to correct his wording. “I-I just mean, a lady should be comfortable. And if I had a g-girl like you, well… You’d never want for anything,” he stammered, stumbling over his words like a flustered school boy. “Hell, I… I’d give you the stars and the moon…”

I was shocked into silence, staring up at him like he was the sun itself. “Bucky…”

“No, no, don’t say anything. I… I know that was a lot,” he insisted quietly, unable to meet your eyes as he stared up at the shitty apartment building you called home. “Hell, you probably don’t want a gross old man hitting on you.” His metal hand, glinting in the low light of the street lamp, reached up to brush against my cheek for just a moment before it quickly dropped. “Just let me walk you home each night so I can make sure you’re safe, yeah?”

“Yeah,” I breathed out, unable to take my eyes off of him as he took a few steps back.

There’s a somewhat playful smirk on his lips as he watched me stumble up the steps, continuously glancing back at him. “Goodnight, baby doll.”

“Goodnight,” I said, barely audible before I finally headed inside.

Bucky kept his word. He walked me home every night, and honestly, there wasn’t a moment that I wasn’t thinking about what he had said, about if I was his girl.

What if I was his girl?

But… with that meant I’d have to give up the life I’d dreamed for myself. I wanted luxury, to never worry about bills or where I was gonna get my next meal or if I could afford to buy the nice work shoes or if I could only get the cheap ones that would fall apart in three months and then I’d just be right back where I started.

I wanted the life that celebrities lived. Hell, I wanted to go to parties on the same yachts the Kardashian-Jenners did, even if I couldn’t fucking stand them.

And with Bucky… I wouldn’t have that.

“So why’d you go on the run anyway?” Bucky asked one night as we sat on the curb, eating ice cream in the Louisiana heat. “I know you told me how you got here, but you’ve never told me why.”

“You’ve never told me how you ended up here or why either,” I shot back, nudging his shoulder with my own.

Somehow the age difference seemed non-existent as we sat there. Honestly, I felt like we were just a bunch of dumb teenagers, shooting the shit and enjoying each other’s company.

Bucky took in a deep breath, his shoulders sinking in a way that made it look like he had all the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I was over in Afghanistan for a long time,” he admitted quietly. “When the war first started, I was 19. I had no idea where my life was going and I had no options except my dad’s mechanic shop. So I enlisted with my best friend, Steve. The one I told you about.”

It’s completely silent except for the sound of an occasional car horn off in the distance.

“Neither one of us knew what we were doing. We realized very quickly that we had no reason being over there, but… but there was nothing else,” he said, swallowing around the lump in his throat. The ice cream he was holding was melting in his trembling hands. “I didn’t know how to do anything else, so I stayed. Steve moved up in the ranks, but I stayed pretty low… I didn’t mind. Kinda liked being the older guy all those young kids could talk to, could rely on… Because they were just like me, getting into a fight that wasn’t theirs because they had nothing else.”

My heart was shattering inside my chest as I scooted a little closer, my knee knocking against his as I tried to give him some sort of silent comfort. He’d been through Hell and made it through.

Bucky let his head rest against mine, his eyes closing as he breathed in the scent of my perfume. “They eventually moved me to some kind of specialized team… Called us the Howling Commandos. I found out that Steve was heading it and he picked me to be part of it. That’s how I met Sam, because he was on some sort of similar team with the Air Force, except it was just him and his friend, Riley,” he continued, taking a bite of his chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. “I am proud to say that I didn’t kill a single person while I was over there. I just couldn’t. Hell, they’re people just like me, terrified and unsure of what’s going to happen.” His lips pressed against my forehead, letting it linger. “But then about five years ago, I was on a mission with the Commandos, Sam, and Riley, and… this bomb went off while we were playing a game of soccer. I wasn’t even in a fight. That thing took my arm and it took Riley.”

Tentatively, I let my fingers find his, holding his hand and squeezing reassuringly.

“Sam decided to come home with me.” There was a forlorn look in his eyes, as though he was right back at that game of pick-up soccer. “After losing Riley… he couldn’t find a reason to be over there. And then Steve decided to stay, and hell, he’s still over there, leading that fucking team…” Glassy baby blue eyes finally found mine, the both of us doing our best to not cry. “I couldn’t face my family for a long time, so Sam asked me to come stay in Louisiana with him and his family, and I haven’t left since.”

“Have you gone to see your family?” I asked slowly, almost like I was scared I’d frighten him if I spoke too loudly, like a wild animal. “Let them know where you are? That you’re safe?”

He turned to look at me, his baby blues shining. “You worried about me, baby doll?”

“I can’t help it,” I said honestly, unable to tear my eyes away. I hadn’t opened up to someone like that in so damn long. “I can’t help but worry about you.”

The way that I felt about Bucky absolutely terrified me, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. It snuck up on me, like a train coming around a bend.

I hated it.

“What do you want out of this life?” Bucky asked on one walk home, his arm linked in mine. He’d become so much more… tactile. If anyone took a moment to look at us, they’d think we were a couple on a romantic stroll.

Perhaps we were.

But I couldn’t help but grin as I looked up at the sky, taking in the warm air. “I wanna live like how the movie stars do… I want a big house on the beach and twenty cars and a yacht and… and…”

He looked at me long and hard. “And you never wanna have to worry about where your next meal is coming from, if you’re gonna have a place to sleep at night…”

For some reason, I’d felt a bolt of panic over whether or not he’d understand. Whether or not he’d think differently of me, but I should’ve known that he wouldn’t. Hell, he knew me better than anyone else.

“You understand,” I said quietly, my hand squeezing his bicep gratefully. “I want to live how the other half lives for once. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

A small smile graced his features as we shuffled along. “There isn’t. But… What about love?” He asked.

“Love?”

“Love.”

Love.

Could I even have love? Did I want it?

“I don’t know if there’s a lot of room for love in my plans,” I admitted after a long moment. “In my experience, love has always just been a lie. A word used to manipulate and eventually abuse.”

Letting out a snort, he let his fingers tickle down my tricep until his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’d show you it’s not… I’d show you what real love is,” he said. “I’d give you every part of me, give you all my strength to help you grow into who you wanna be, even if I don’t particularly care about being famous or rich…” He brought my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I’ll give you a love story, a life, that’s a million times better than any recycled Hollywood plot… I’ll give you the stars and the moon, if you would just let me.”

I hated the way that he made my heart beat faster, the way my breath hitched. “Jamie,” I breathed out quietly, the two of us having stopped in our tracks to just… take each other in. Live in each other’s presence for a moment. “I…”

“You want a big life… one a lot bigger than little old me,” he said simply, shrugging. His blue eyes were so honest, so loving. So warm. A warmth I hadn’t ever experienced before. “I know. But that doesn’t change that I’m in love with you. And if you ever change your mind…” Bucky reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, pressing it into my free hand. “This is where you can find me. I figure it’s time for me to go home.”

We’d come to a stop in front of my building, and I was shocked at how tight my chest felt. My eyes watered as I stared at him long and hard. “Jamie, please… I⏤”

“Don’t say it. It’s okay,” he insisted as he cupped my cheek, letting his thumb run over my skin as though he was memorizing it. “I just want you to be happy, darling. You got that?” His lips pressed to my forehead, letting it linger. “Go get that life you’ve been dreaming of.”

Twenty-Three

I left New Orleans the next day, grabbing a bus ticket after throwing all of my belongings into my old duffel bag. It was time to move on.

But God, did it hurt.

I didn’t stop crying for weeks, fighting the urge to go right back to Louisiana and tell Bucky to take it back, to get him to beg me to stay with him.

But what kind of life would that leave me with? Working in the diner day after day? Never getting anywhere?

But you’d have James, a voice inside my head reminded me snarkily.

Then again, he most likely wasn’t even in New Orleans anymore, if what he said was true when he gave me the business card of his father’s mechanic shop. Was he really planning on going home to New York City?

A few months later, and I’d worked my way all through the southwest to Santa Fe, where I met Pietro.

My heart was pounding as I pressed in the familiar numbers, having memorized them from the business card now soft and faded from how often I held it in my hands like a lifeline. “Come on… Pick up… Pick up…”

“Barnes Tires and Motors, this is George,” a man said in a gruff voice when he finally picked up. “How can I help you?”

“H-Hi, is James there? James Barnes? Bucky?” I stammered out, hands trembling so bad that the old payphone was almost rattling.

There was a pause, and then muffled talking away from the phone.

And then I heard it being picked up. “This is Bucky,” he said.

It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of my lungs. How had I gone so long without hearing his voice?

Breathing in sharply, I tried to figure out the words to say. But my throat was dry and it was like I’d suddenly forgotten the entire English language.

That was all that it took for Bucky to realize it was me. “Baby doll? Baby doll, is that you?” He asked quietly. “I…” He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “You don’t gotta say a thing, sweetheart… But just know that if you’re in trouble or you need help or… or anything at all, you better call me…” His voice wavered, as though he was fighting tears just like I was. “God, I miss you so much, baby doll. I love you.”

I love you, too.

I hung up before I could actually say the words. “God, I’m so fucking stupid,” I whispered as I leaned back against the wall of the gas station I’d found myself at, rubbing the heels of my hands into my eyes.

My dumb ass had decided to wander from the bus station, and I’d walked over a mile away. Unless I was staying in Santa Fe for a bit, I’d need to start making my way back.

“You okay?”

In my distress, I hadn’t even heard the rumbling of the motorcycle or noticed the handsome man making his way to me. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I said even as I wiped my nose with a pathetic sniffle.

He eyed me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my figure. “You hungry? I know a great little place nearby. My treat.”

And well, I was never one to turn down free food.

Even if that ‘little place’ ended up being a food truck.

“You know, when you said it was a little place, I didn’t picture it having wheels,” I said teasingly, licking salsa off of my lower lip. “Though, it is the best food I’ve ever gotten from a food truck before.”

“Oh, come on. This is the best food of all time!” He laughed, shaking his head.

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” I snorted, finishing off my flautas.

Pietro looked at me long and hard. “So, are you gonna tell me what the hell was going on to have a pretty girl like you all teary eyed?” He asked, his head tilting to the side.

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “Was this your plan all along?” I asked. Wiping my hands off on a napkin, I did everything I could to avoid his eyes. “Get me all fed and then question me?” But at the same time, the thought of being able to finally talk to someone about it was so appealing… After a long moment of hesitation, I finally gave in. “I fell in love with a man, and he let me go because he knew that I want a life he can’t give me,” I said. “And I was a bitch who didn’t even tell him I love him back when he said it to me.”

Pietro took in a deep breath, slowly letting it out. “Damn. You really are a stone cold bitch, aren’t you?”

“Hey!” I indignantly threw a chunk of tomato at him, glaring. “I just opened up my heart, you dickwad.”

“Dickwad?!” He said, blinking at me in shock. “No one’s ever called me a dickwad before.”

I raised a single eyebrow at him. “Maybe not to your face, but they definitely have.” He gave off the vibe of a fuckboy, of a really, really bad fuckboy.

“Well, since you’re running away from your feelings, how about you spend a week or two with me on the road?” He asked with a grin.

I couldn’t help but blink at him in shock. “What?” I let out a laugh, pulling one of my legs up to my chest. “Do you throw that line out to every girl you meet? Or am I just special?”

Pietro threw a chip at me, and I barely managed to dodge it. “No, I don’t. But… You remind me of me. Needing adventure. A life bigger than four walls and a fence.”

Instinctively, I wanted to snap back that sometimes, four walls and a fence could be an adventure, could be the biggest life there was, as Bucky’s face flashed across my mind.

But I couldn’t do that. Not when I wasn’t ready to face the truth myself.

“Come on, sweet cheeks,” he teased as his foot hooked around mine. “Just think of it. The open highway, a rhythm beneath your feet… Nights full of passion and days of adventure…” Pietro’s voice was deep and husky, as though he was trying to lure me in. “No strings… just warm summer rain soaking us to the bone before we find some cheap motel to huddle down in…”

Plastering on a smile, I stood up and brushed myself on. “Thanks, but… I’d rather be drinking champagne, and the quicker I get to LA, the sooner I will be.”

He let me go with a kiss on the cheek and his cell number pressed into my hand, with a promise to come and pick me up the second I rang.

And despite how sweet he was, how wild and funny and charismatic, there was only one man I wanted to call.

Twenty-Four

I sipped at my martini as I sat at the rooftop bar, absentmindedly watching the television that was mounted on the wall as people droned around me. I’d been in Los Angeles for a year, and I’d spent my time finding the best places to find a husband who could give me the life I dreamed of.

As much as I didn’t want to admit it, it took connections to build a career, and the best way to get a foot in the door when nepotism was so rampant was by marrying someone in the industry.

My silk dress was the most expensive thing I owned, something I’d saved up for months for, had skipped meals for. And fuck, was it worth it. I could feel the stares, the lingering gazes on the little bit of thigh that was exposed by the slit in the dress.

I’d already turned away several men, able to tell just from their expensive watches and cheap suits and shoes.

It was amazing how all the up and coming finance bros thought they fit in with the truly big dogs.

“Well, hello, gorgeous.”

I turned to see who was speaking, my heart skipping a beat when I realized who I was speaking to.

The world famous (or infamous) director, Tony Stark.

“Hello, handsome,” I said smoothly, my lashes fluttering innocently as I took a sip of my horrible drink.

I fucking hated martinis. Always had.

But ordering a martini was more sophisticated than ordering a frozen strawberry margarita.

“Is this seat taken?” He asked as he motioned to the empty bar stool right next to me, even as he was already sitting down. “Let me buy your next round.”

“I can’t think of anything better,” I said, feeling as though my dream life was already in reach.

Twenty-Eight

“Tony, where are you taking me?” I laughed as I let my boyfriend lead me to the private dock at our Malibu mansion.

Well, his mansion. I just happened to also live there.

It had been a whirlwind of a year since I had met Tony, and he’d bought me that second round. He’d taken me all over the globe, anywhere my heart desired.

But I made sure to avoid New York City, though he never understood why. I would never tell him.

Not when I was so close to my dream. I could practically taste it.

“Come on, come on. I have a surprise for you,” he said, keeping his hands over my eyes. He was sure to keep me from tripping and busting my ass, thank god.

The ocean waves were so comforting as they hit the shore, a sound I’d gotten used to over the past year.

He finally brought me to a stop, quietly telling me to keep my eyes closed. “Okay,” he said finally. “Open them.”

My eyes slowly opened, adjusting to the bright light of the California sun. But I was more shocked by the sight of Tony on one knee in front of me, holding out a box with a sparkling diamond ring in it. “Tony?”

The ring was the size of a fucking meteor. It was easily the biggest ring I’d ever seen.

“You know, I never thought I’d meet someone like you,” he said quietly, his dark eyes shining. But his voice was steady. “Someone who understands me, who doesn’t expect me to change into someone I’m not. You accept me as I am, and that’s why I want to give you the world.” He couldn’t help but grin as he nodded to the right. “Starting with that yacht you’ve always dreamed of.”

I hadn’t even noticed that there were two yachts at his private docks instead of just the one. The new one had SS Princess emblazoned on the side, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh… Tony…”

“So, what do you say?” He asked, bringing my attention back to him. “Will you be my wife?”

“Yes.”

Thirty-Two

Swallowing nervously, I looked down at the business card in my hand for the millionth time, the stock paper soft from how often I’d looked at it in the past ten years.

Hell, just how often I’d looked at it in the past six should’ve made it fall apart by now. Not that I didn’t have it memorized.

I’d finally ended my marriage after being miserable for so long. I’d gotten my yacht, my fancy houses, my career, all the jewelry that I could dream of, and none of it made me happy. Tony and I… never grew. And I never dreamed. Every day was the same, and every day was torture as I realized that I didn’t have the one thing that actually mattered.

The garage in front of me was busy, music blasting and the sound of men shouting to each other as they worked.

Suddenly I felt absolutely ridiculous wearing a Chanel dress and Gucci heels, an Hermés bag on my arm.

BARNES TIRES AND MOTORS was lit up along the top of the shop in bright red letters, though the lights in the ‘r’ of ‘motors’ were out.

I felt like a fool. I had wanted the life I had so desperately that I gave up everything for it. I got the movie star life, my name on billboards and my face on magazines.

But it wasn’t ever enough.

My heels clicked against the blacktop as I slowly made my way towards the front area of the shop, bells clinging above my head to let them know someone was there.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” A man asked as he came around the corner.

He looked so much like Bucky, it punched the air straight from my lungs.

“H-Hi. I’m looking for James Barnes. Is he here?” I asked after a long moment of hesitation. There was no way that the man was Bucky, but I didn’t doubt he was related.

The man raised his brows, wiping his hands on a rag. “My son’s in the shop. I’ll take you to him.” His full head of hair was white, his thick facial hair matching. Even with all the wrinkles on his face, he was a handsome man. Holding open the door for me, he led me into the loud shop, some eighties rock song blasting over the speakers.

I couldn’t help but smile as ‘Rock You Like a Hurricane’ by Scorpions came on. It was one of Bucky’s favorites back when we worked in the diner together.

“BUCK! YOU GOT A VISITOR!” The man shouted, causing several people to look our way.

My cheeks felt hot as I avoided their gaze, hoping they wouldn’t recognize me. I didn’t want to be a famous movie star anymore, a celebrity that had to beg for scraps of privacy.

My mind went numb, my heart stopping inside my chest as he stepped around a gray Ford Escape another man was working on.

He was even more handsome than he was the last time I saw him.

“Can I help y—” He broke off, his blue eyes going wide when he realized that it was me. “Hi.”

All of a sudden, everything I’d planned to say flew out of my head. All of the eloquent words I’d strung together were gone. And I just proceeded to word vomit.

“Did you know that, uh, when you marry someone you’re not in love with, you won’t… you won’t grow into it?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Um… I married a man who could give me a life I thought I always wanted, and he just… sucked.” Eyes stinging, I fought back against tears. “And I thought that all I ever wanted was the life I have now, was the life movie stars and the Kardashians lived. But… But I hate it. I hated every second I was away from you.” I let out a weak laugh, unable to stop the tears. “I wanted to turn around the second I got on the bus in New Orleans, but my stupid stubborn ass didn’t. I should have. I should’ve gotten off and just run right back to you because I… I love you, James. I always have.”

The garage had gone almost deadly quiet, and my heart sank when I realized Bucky looked almost frozen in shock.

“I know that I shouldn’t have showed up like this,” I scrambled to say. “But I… I’ve been trying to get my divorce finalized for two years and I finally did, and I kept telling myself that once it was done, I’d never hold myself back from what I really want ever again. From who I want. If… If you want me.” My face felt like it was on fire, my hands shaking. I shook my head as I took a step backwards. “What am I thinking? There’s no way you’re not married. I… I’m so so—”

Before I could finish the word ‘sorry,’ Bucky had closed the distance between us, his hands cradling my face so gently. He held me like I was made of fine crystal as he kissed me. He kissed me like his life depended on it, like I was the one source of oxygen.

And I kissed him back just as fiercely. “I love you. I love you so much,” I breathed out in between kisses, unwilling to let him go as my Hermés bag fell into the dust and oil on the concrete below.

Bucky smiled into the kiss, his arm wrapping around my waist to keep me pressed to his chest. “I love you so much, darlin.’ God, I’ve missed you…” His nose nudged against mine as we finally broke for air, both of us breathing heavily.

My knees felt like Jell-O as I held onto him. His grip was the only reason I hadn’t fallen to the ground already.

“I’m sorry I was a dumb twenty-two year old,” I said, snorting as he stole another kiss.

“No… Don’t be sorry,” he insisted, his fingers massaging my scalp as our foreheads pressed together. It was like he was scared to stop touching me, like I would disappear at any second. “You were young… You had to go out and make your own mistakes… I’ve just been waiting for the day you were ready.”

All the years apart melted away and all that remained was the two of us, two souls so intertwined that there was no way to truly separate us.

Our lips were half molded together as I said, “I’m never leaving you again. I promise I swear on everything…”

My heart almost stopped inside my chest as I heard someone clearing their throat, looking to see Bucky’s father staring at us with his arms crossed over his chest. “M-Mr. Barnes, sir…”

He gave a crooked smile that was so reminiscent of Bucky that I couldn’t help but grin back. “The Mrs. will wanna know if you’re staying for dinner.”

“Yeah,” I said as I looked up at Bucky, toying with a strand of his hair. “That sounds perfect.”

Later that night, Bucky and I laid in his bed, a mess of bare limbs as his fingers ran up and down my back soothingly. “What do you want from this life, baby girl?” He asked absentmindedly.

Humming, I traced shapes on his bare chest, sometimes pressing a kiss to where his prosthetic met his shoulder, on the tender scar tissue. “You.”

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, despite the already mischievous look on his face. “Really? Not even the stars and the moon?” He asked teasingly.

I knew he’d give it to me anyway, give me all that he could. But I was sure now that the only thing I wanted from this life was his love. “Not even the stars and the moon.”

[sukirichi]

happy little accidents

— Life is a series of unfortunate events, but sometimes, there are happy little accidents.

REQUEST. (accidental pregnancy, fuck buddies au) + childhood friends to lovers + baby moments with father! megumi

CONTENT/WARNINGS. slight smut, slight exhibitionism (I think? there’s a CCTV lmao) just daddy megumi uwu

NOTES. hi anon, thank you for requesting and joining the event! I have to admit...I don’t really know how to write this and I just had to ask my mother about her experiences in pregnancy LMAO. I apologize in advance if this sucks, I’m pretty good at fluff but domestic and cute stuff with children isn’t my expertise asggkhl I’m awkward around babies and kids so anyways, I hope you like it! OH AND ALSO I HAVE A CAMEO LMAO

Megumi’s hands runs up under your shirt, bringing about a shiver forward when his cold fingers come into with your warm skin. You feel him smile onto the kiss, his grip nothing but teasing before he brushes the underside of your breast, prompting you to grip closer to his hoodie. You and him were childhood friends; having always liked one another until playing house was no longer a game a but dream, but his family was too strict and controlling – they’ve made it clear long ago this relationship could never and would never happen.

His Uncle Naoya made sure of it.

But that didn’t stop the both of you. All the way from highschool until now in your university days, you and Megumi are still stuck together by the hip, occasionally fucking whenever time allowed. Weekdays are spent staring longingly at each other in the hallways, the weekends flourishing into finally’s and hushed kisses under the sheets, completely unaware of the world you both trudged in.

Today was one of those days, and you’re nothing less of passionate as you swipe your tongue out to taste his lips, smiling when you realize he’s also grown used to wearing your mint flavoured lip balm. “Mhm, Megumi, I missed you,” you placed your legs beside his arms, a contented sigh entering his mouth as he closed his eyes.

“You miss me? I’m always around you,” he reminds you, pulling away momentarily to tug your shirt to the side where he leaves a soft patch of kisses. “Never gonna leave your side, baby.”

“You better not. I’m the best you’ll ever have.”

Megumi nods wholeheartedly in agreement, not wasting time before he pulls you closer to him. You’re almost weightless as you crash on top of him, hands tangled into the other’s hair and his large palm squeezing your breast. It produces a breathy moan from you, a thread of saliva connecting your lips when it comes again – that hellish bitter and sour bile that flows up to your throat. You push yourself off him and run to the bathroom, the content of your stomachs poured while your groans echo around the room.

He’s beside you in an instant, crouching beside you to pull your hair up and pat your back. Once you’ve finished throwing up, you clutch at the indistinguishable bloating of your stomach, leaning back into his touch while you slowly regain your composure.

Your head is throbbing uncomfortably again, one that wouldn’t go away no matter how much you press your thumbs against it.

“Wh-what’s wrong? Are you sick or something?”

You chuckle a bit from the way he frets over you, hands tilting your cheeks side to side while he pales, a sheen of worry visible on his hairline. He’s always been such a worrywart. You look behind him and see the box of condoms in your half-open medicine cabinet, the sight making your heart drop in your chest.

“Megs...when was the last time we had sex?”

“Well,” he scratches the back of his head, “We’ve both been busy from uni, so...last month, I guess? It’s been a long time.”

You swallowed audibly. You’ve recently gotten that box of condoms because if you remember correctly, last time you both skipped straight to the deed after realizing you ran out of it. Eyes flicking over his confused ones, your throat ran dry and itchy from the throw up session, your voice low as you say, “I’m three weeks late on my period, Megs.”

He looks just as shocked as you are, but he doesn’t give you the time to recover before he rushes out into your apartment. For a moment, you’re left heartbroken at the cold bathroom tiles, thinking that he left, but Megumi comes back a few minutes later, a pregnancy test kit and some chocolates inside a plastic bag. Your eyes widen when he gently ushers you to sit on the toilet, his feet tapping impatiently on the floor while you both wait for the result.

And there it is.

The timer on his phone goes off. Megumi rushes beside you, his chin resting on your shoulder as he blinks at the test kit. He turns to you and blinks in question, wondering what the hell it meant.

“’Gumi...it’s positive,” you cry out, sending him into a stagger backwards when you jump at him. Thankfully, he’s carried you too many times to count that he’s natural at hoisting you into his arms, still rendered speechless as you announce, “You’re going to be a dad!”

It’s been five whole months since you and Megumi turned into being stable fuck buddies, intent on hiding your relationship from both your families, into homeless and young parents whose fear over life and the future only increased tenfold now with the growing baby inside you.

You still remember that dreadful moment when both of you are kicked out into your family estate, Megumi’s Uncle Naoya especially enraged over the news. He doesn’t even give his nephew a chance to pack his bags before he signals the bodyguards to escort you out, then takes away all Megumi’s privileges and former luxury of being part of the Zenin Clan. You assume he’d want to strangle his pitiful Uncle for the never ending mistreatment, but your now boyfriend is nothing but happy, relieved that he’s been freed from the tight reins that always got in both your way.

Unbeknownst to the controlling Zenin Clan head, his wife is much more cunning than he is. He knows his wife always had some sorts of tricks hidden up in her sleeve, but even you were surprised when Megumi’s Aunt Suki shows up in your college dorm one day, throwing a set of keys your way with a wink before driving off back to become Naoya’s beloved trophy wife.

She lent you one of her high-estate apartments and even a humble car, silently wiring fees into your bank account since Megumi’s was already shut down.

Truly, if it wasn’t for her, you and Megumi wouldn’t be able to live this comfortably no matter how much both of you worked your ass off.

Now, none of you had to worry about not getting to make ends meet, no more worrying about putting your health at risk by working two jobs a day along with university – you and Megumi agreed to take advantage of her kindness just until the baby was born, opting to live quietly and comfortably in your shared home that would soon be filled with more memories. Well, as comfortably as you both could anyway, since pregnancy – although a beautiful experience – wasn’t always rainbows and unicorns.

Megumi comes home one day, the food you’ve always been craving from the Chinese restaurant from the other town present inside his bag. He’s tired from uni, even more so that he shares your burden of becoming new parents, but every time he comes home to you, all his exhaustion is wiped away, especially with the evident growth of your belly.

Your boyfriend runs up to you after placing the food on the counter, his arms wide open to get a hug – he’s gotten extremely touchy ever since the pregnancy – when you reel away from him, face turning green.

Your fingers come to pitch at your nose, eyes narrowed at his confused pout. “Ugh, Megumi, your deodorant stinks.”

“You were the one who got this for me, though,” his brows furrow as he lifts his sleeve up to sniff himself. He doesn’t smell bad... “You said you liked it on me,” he mumbles more to himself than you, staying still in his spot when he sees how colourless you’ve become. “Why are you looking at me like that? I showered today.”

“I can’t stand the smell of you, I can’t, gosh,” pushing past him, you rush to the toilets, the morning sickness well present all the way until sundown as you throw up. Megumi stands at the doorway, hands extended in front of him as he’s unsure whether he could help you or not. You firmly shake your head at him, lips turned into a sneer. “No, don’t get near me or I will honestly whack you with my purse, Megumi. Get rid of that deodorant and find a scent free one or something.”

Megumi is left with a slack jaw when you hop into bed afterwards, too tired and irritated to finish your papers. Seeing that he should probably do the same and pamper you instead, Megumi is silent as he crawls under the covers, only to be kicked out with a harsh kick to his thigh and a fiery, “Get out!”

“Nobara,” he whines into the phone, too fearful to even look at the bedroom at the thought that you’d feel his gaze and get even angrier. Your instincts and senses sharpens with each passing day; he won’t risk it. “My girlfriend hates me!”

“I could see why.”

Megumi groans at his friend’s flippant tone, the sound of a nail file grazing acrylics mixed with lo-fi music playing from the other line. “I’m serious – she doesn’t even want me a foot near her! When I tried to join her on the bed, she literally woke up just to hit me with a pillow. Right in the face!”

“Let me guess, you’re banned from the bedroom and staying on the couch?”

“Yeah, I am,” he sulks on the couch, “I don’t know why she hates me. I can’t imagine what I did wrong.”

“You don’t have to do anything wrong for a pregnant woman to hate you, Fushiguro. It’s not your fault your face is just really annoying,” Megumi makes a sound of protest before slapping a hand over his lips, nervous gaze darting at your door again. He relaxes into the seat; you’ve probably fallen asleep. “But on a more serious note, I think it’s the hormones. She’s erratic right now and you can’t blame her, she’s literally growing a child inside of her, dude, are you crying?”

“She might divorce me because of my deodorant.”

“Idiot, you two aren’t even married!” Nobara bellows loud enough that Megumi pulls the phone away from his ear, waiting until she’s calmed down and continues speaking like she didn’t just burst his ear drums. “Listen, just be extra sweet and careful around her, okay? Don’t open your mouth as well unless you want to die. Now get a notepad or something, we’re going to devise the best Baby Mama Seduction Plan that is guaranteed to win her heart.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Nobara!”

“Hmph, you owe me tickets to that fashion show though. Get your rich ass uncle to pull some connections or something.”

“Nobara, you know I can’t—”

“Oh shit, is that your girl about to kick you in the face?” Megumi yelps as his body flips at the direction of your room, both hands raised in surrender with his phone pressed between his ear and shoulder. He sighs – the door is still closed – he should be safe for now. Meanwhile, Nobara snickers cockily, almost as if she could see everything. As always, Nobara was triumphant. “That’s right, we both don’t want that to happen, so stick to your end of the deal man.”

Megumi stays up the whole night to execute Nobara’s plan. It’s tiring to run back and forth in the open convenience stores just to fill the fridge up with all your favourite food, but Megumi is determined to have you accept him again, even if he knows you’re not actually rejecting him.

By the time you’ve woken up, all beautiful and glowing as you pad out your room, Megumi stands up straight to conceal his body ridden with exhaustion. He just wants to make you happy.

“What’s all this?”

“You’ve been working hard,” he starts off unsurely, a hand scratching the back of his head as he gauges for your reaction. You plop down on the dining table and don’t scowl as you take a whiff of the food, blinking for a few seconds before you dig in. It’s enough for him to take as a go-signal, and he walks beside you carefully, his voice wavering and soft. “I just wanted to surprise you – show you how much I love and admire you...all that.”

“That’s suspicious,” you mouth through a mouthful of dumpling, but smile anyways with your arms extended. “Come here, give me a kiss.”

Megumi is beyond elated as he buries himself in the warmth of your arms again, sighing when you kiss his cheeks and jaw. “Are we good?”

“Did you replace your deodorant?”

“Yes...”

“Good boy,” you kiss him on the lips this time. Megumi has the audacity to blush as if he didn’t just fuck a baby into you, making you laugh before you slap his ass, last night’s irration now replaced with a reminder that this was Megumi – your first love and everything more. There was no way you wouldn’t be ‘good’ with him; you’d go to heavens and back for him, but maybe once you’re done birthing his child. “Yeah, we’re good. Get the mint choco ice cream pint for me?” Megumi sprints to perform your commands, and you reward him by pulling him in for a deeper kiss the time, his lips so sweet and minty. You can’t help but sigh, falling for him over and over again. “You’re such a sweetheart, Megs. This is why I’m head over heels for you.”

“You didn’t want me sleeping beside you for a week straight though.”

Your nose scrunches at the memory – that slight change in your expression making Megumi step back – as you wave a spoon at him, glaring at him in warning. “Like I said, you stank.”

But...pregnancy wasn’t all that bad for the both of you. There were times you’re unable to keep your hands off him. Although unexpected and mostly occurring in the most inconvenient situations, Megumi can’t say he’s complaining, especially not when you push him towards the wall just as the elevator doors closed.

“Daddy,” you moan, guiding his hands into your already soaking wet panties. Megumi breathes sharply as he cups your drenching core, wondering how you’ve gotten this aroused without him doing anything sexual in particular.

The nickname spilling past your lips is unforeseen though, as is his growing kink for it when he hardens immediately.  

“Please, please, please, I need you so much – make me feel good, will you?”

Megumi has to pin your needy, trailing hands all over his chest down to your sides, his pupils blown wide as the elevator ascends from one floor to the other. His eyes dart to the blinking red light from the cameras, his Adam’s apple bobbing when you don’t stop in the slighthest, only leaning forward to tug and nip at the skin of his neck. Megumi groans at your ministrations; you know very well that was his sensitive spot. “Y/N, we’re literally in the elevator, just wait until we get back home—”

When Megumi tries to push you away to stop your hands from palming his boner, you growl, eyes fierce and heated as you turn to him. “Do you want me to chop your dick off and prevent you from having a second child?”

“N-no.”

“Then shut up and fuck me.”

“Fuck, okay, don’t blame me if I make you sore, though.”

You roll your eyes at him, your hands moving expertly as you bunch your skirt up to your waist to show him that your bud was already swollen just for him. “Megumi, my boobs are already are its most sore point, I don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Megumi makes quick work of shoving his pants down just to his knees, gentle yet needy as he pushes your chest flat on the walls, round and perky ass puckered for him to take you already. He could cum just from the sight of you bending over for him like this, your arousal already dripping down your thighs as you wiggle your hips at him, breathless in the desire to be taken once more.

There were still fifteen floors to go before you reached your destination. Megumi’s brows pinch together in anxiety that anyone could press for the lift, but you’re also submissively bent over for him, moaning and gasping his name even when it’s only the tip of his cock sliding into you.

He sees the way your fingers hover over the buttons, clearly more prepared to shut the doors and deny others entry than he was, and he thinks fuck it to himself before he buries himself deep into you, head thrown back at the heavenly and salacious feeling of fucking you raw. You’re somehow warmer and tighter, wetter with puffier lips during your second trimester. Just as he blanches at the thought he could hurt you, he remembers the doctor’s encouragement of more sex. Being the good boyfriend he is, Megumi fucks hard into you, groaning and panting when your walls clamp down on him.

He only wants to help you.

Days of rubbing your feet and singing to your belly were gone – now replaced with laughter pouring into your house and switching from listening to Mother Mother into actually enjoying nursery rhymes playing from the stereo.

It feels just like yesterday when he rushes you to the emergency room, your hand nearly crushing his during your contractions before you gave birth to his child.

Megumi has never really been much of an emotional person, preferring to be calm and stoic unless you’re around; the rare times he actually lets his walls down. Surrounded by a group of doctors, though, Megumi stops caring about saving face when they hand him his daughter. He isn’t the least bit embarrassed when he sobs upon seeing the tiny bundle of joy in his arms, so small and vulnerable that promised there and then – he’d do everything he can to protect his child and give them the best future.

Fushiguro Megumi is a hands-down helicopter dad. The moment you’re able to take your daughter back home, he’s already had the whole house baby proofed. Along with studying for his exams, he’s also switching back and forth to parenting guide books.

You can tell he’s taking his job as a dad very seriously. Megumi doesn’t hesitate to shoot out of the bed in the middle of the night whenever he hears his daughter cry, racing you to her crib while he rocks her back and forth and you prepare her milk. You’re both utterly tired and sleep deprived, your head resting on his shoulder as your baby calms down in his arms. Faintly, you feel him kiss the top of your head, encouraging you to go back to sleep with the assurance he can handle it.

But of course, you’re the stubborn parent, and you drag your boyfriend and daughter back to bed, making sure there was enough space to make her comfortable before falling asleep.

Being a parent – especially with the love of your life – has never felt any more magical.

Of course, it was hard and definitely not a walk in the park, but it was worth it. Every time you came home from school, Megumi would already be there, his daughter babbling nonsensically in his arms while he prepared her meals. At the sounds of the door opening, both of them would run to you, showering you with kisses while you did the same.

Both your families have still refused to accept you back – not that you both minded – but it was getting shameful to keep relying on his relative to provide for your family. Eventually, you and Megumi decided that the other stays to take care of your baby while you work after class.

You’re staggering inside your home like a zombie after a long day, muscles aching from too much work and brain barely functioning due to the lack of sleep. With a long, drawn out sigh, you plop on the couch next to your boyfriend who jolts back awake, still careful not to let his drooling daughter wake up in his arms. Upon seeing it’s just you, Megumi leans over to kiss you on the nose, smelling sweetly of floral detergent powder and baby cologne.

“Welcome home,” he murmurs at your skin, your eyes already fluttering close at the comfort and warmth of home. “Scarlet is fast asleep. She couldn’t wait for you to kiss her goodnight anymore.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Mommy will always come home to the two most precious people in the world,” Now, it’s your turn to kiss Megumi to remind him he’s also doing a great job. You know he’s working just as hard you are, and you honestly don’t think you could do this without him. “Megumi,” you begin, tracing soft circles into his wrist to feel his lulling heartbeat.

“Hmm?”

“Have I ever told you I loved you?”

“I think I know that already,” he smiles romantically at you – even after years, you’re still very much smitten with that smile, and the sight of him and your daughter alone has you relaxing back in your seat.

“Yes, but you need to hear it again,” you tell him, cupping his face into your palms. Megumi sighs as he leans closer into your warmth, his hands patting your daughter’s back to soothe her in her slumber. “You’re such a natural at this – being a father. I’m really lucky I had a family with you. It’s all I ever wanted,” Burying yourself closer into his arms and collecting the both of them into an embrace, you smile into his shoulder, feeling like you’re on cloud nine. “I don’t think life is gonna get better than this, Megs. I’m so happy right now I feel like I could die.”

“Don’t say the d-word around her,” he jokes, the two of you sharing tired and dry laughter. Once the amusement subsides, Megumi’s other hand shifts to squeeze your thigh to get your attention. “Y/N...do you ever think about...making us official?”

“What do you mean?” you mumble sleepily, “How else official could we get? We live together and we have a baby. Soon, we’re going to be employed too and then we can provide better for her and stop relying on Aunt Suki so much,” Megumi nods above you, but his lack of response is worrying that you look up to him, frowning as you see that his face is pulled deep into thought. “We’re already a family, Megs. What’s on your mind?”

“I want to marry you,” he blurts out, “I want to make you mine and mine only – I see a future and a forever with you,” Megumi looks you straight in the eye the whole time. “Marry me, Y/N. Please.”

You’re rendered speechless.

You love him so much, you really do, and nothing about that will change. After spending a lifetime with you, Megumi knows just by looking at your face that there’s a but coming afterward and he clenches his jaw, sadness swirling in his eyes that you have to stop him before his thoughts run off again. “I want that too, Megumi, believe me,” you reassure, brushing his hair back with your fingers; a gesture that always pulled him back to you. “I just don’t want to rush things, you know? We can still barely stand on our own and we have Scarlet to worry about. I think we should focus more on her future than ours.”

Megumi nods, albeit disappointed, though this doesn’t stop him from kissing you straight on the lips before he mutters, “I understand but...think about it, at least?”

“You already know my answer would be yes.”

“Scarlet! I wonder where my little princess is hiding,” Megumi announces from outside your room, your toddler giggling beside you as you both hide behind the closet hand-in-hand. Four years later, you and Megumi are married, and life’s gotten a lot easier – in addition to it being a whole lot more domestic since Megumi takes his husband title just as seriously as being a father. Right now, he’s crawling outside, his voice lowered in an attempt to be scary. “If I find her, she’s going to face the wrath of the tickle monster!”

“Tickle monster!” Scarlet gasps beside you, turning to you with wide eyes. “Mummy, I don’t want tickles!”

“Then we better be quiet so Daddy doesn’t find us!”

With your voice intentionally louder than a whisper, it doesn’t take long before Megumi opens the closet doors, carrying you both effortlessly before dropping you all down onto the bed. “I found you!” You all tickle each other and laugh, your daughter falling into panicked squeals while you chortle at the side. Megumi then hoists Scarlet up before the both of you kiss both sides of her cheeks, sending the giggling child into an utter ticklish mess.

While the two are busy tickling one another, you feign a gasp, clutching at your husband’s bicep.  “Megumi!” your eyes widen, pointing deftly at the kitchen with trembling lips for effect. “Can you please check the oven – I think I left something in there and it might be burning!”

“I don’t smell anything,” is all he says, but runs there anyway. Megumi stands in front of in confusion, Scarlet safely bundled in his arms while her father opens the oven, frowning as he takes the object out and inspects it. “Mittens? But Scarlet is already—” Just then, Megumi’s jaw drops, his grin stretched wide while Scarlet keeps poking at the mittens, trying to make them fit into her slightly larger hands. “No way. Another one?”

“Another candy?”

You laugh at Megumi’s beaming face that matches his daughter’s – the two looking too much alike – but for completely opposite reasons. “We’ll get you all the candies you want, sweetheart,” you swipe a candy from the counter and hand it to your daughter’s grabby hands, pecking Megumi’s cheeks who is still beyond flustered at the announcement. “But yeah we have another one – and it’s a boy!”

[sacredsorceress]

Secrets (One) || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: when your husband, bucky barnes, leaves to go to work intruders invade your home. although you escort your children to safety, when the intruders find you they have a lot of questions about the “winter soldier”- a name you’ve never heard before.

a/n: finally posting the first chapter! most of at least the first bit of the series is going to be absolute angst so I apologize in advance (if you’re looking for fluff to cleanse the palate you can check out my masterlist linked below)

word count: 2.6k

warnings: kidnapping, violence, angst, swearing

Prologue

masterlist || request || taglist

You woke up to the sound of the alarm clock blaring, darkness still encasing the room. Throwing your arm out to your side you reached for your husband, but before your fingers could feel his chest you felt the cold sting of metal catch your hand midair.

Although the room was dark you smiled, opening one of your eyes to peek at the man beside you.

Your wrist still in his hand, he smiled back at you, leaning down to plant a kiss on your forehead. “Go back to sleep, doll.”

You groaned, pushing yourself up to instead lean on your elbow. “Do you really have to go? It’s Saturday.”

He dropped your wrist from his hands, sighing as he kicked his feet over the side of the bed, silencing the alarm that sat on his night stand.

“I’ll be back before you even notice I’m gone.”

Instead of resting your head on the pillow and allowing yourself to drift back to sleep, you sat up in bed, slowly slinking your arms over Bucky’s shoulders and down his chest. Leaning into the crook of his neck from behind, you left a kiss on his jawline.

“I always notice when you’re gone, baby.” You hummed into his skin. “Gonna leave me all alone with those brats today?”

Even though the Sun hadn’t risen and the only light shining in between your shades was that of moonlight, you could see the tired smile form on his face. He chuckled and you wrapped your arms tighter around him, feeling his chest rumble with his laughter.

As much as you called your children brats playfully to your husband, he knew how much you adored them.

“They like you better anyway.” He said, picking up your hands that had been resting on his chest, leaving a soft peck on each of them before resting them back on the bed.

He pushed himself off of the bed, making his way over to your shared closet, tugging the first t-shirt he grabbed of his over his head and you watched him stretch as you laid back down in your spot, tugging the sheets tighter around you.

“That’s not true, James.” You said. “You have a metal arm! Do you know how cool that is to a four-year old?

You heard him chuckle, making his way towards your side of the bed. You felt him tuck you in tighter under the comforter and lean over, planting a kiss on your temple. “You don’t have to pretend for me, doll.” He whispered. “They’re smart to like you more than me. I know I do.”

You smiled as he pulled away. “Be safe, okay?”

“Always am.”

-

When you woke up hours later, it unfortunately wasn’t to the sound of an alarm clock, your kids shaking you or your husband’s kiss. When you woke up again it was to the sound of a vase shattering downstairs.

At first, you bolt up in your bed, throwing off the sheets prepared to yell at whichever one of your children had irresponsibly broken one of your possessions. When your hand reached the doorknob, however, you heard the sound of men’s voices echoing from downstairs.

You immediately rushed to your bedside, picking up your phone with trembling hands to dial your husband’s phone number. As you waited for Bucky to pick up you carefully opened your door and tiptoed across the hall over to your daughter’s room, praying that your floorboards wouldn’t creak beneath your feet.

When you saw your daughter still sleeping peacefully, sprawled across her toddler bed you breathed a sigh of relief. Tucking your phone between your shoulder and ear, you carefully picked up your daughter, resting your free hand behind her head to allow her to rest in the crook of your neck. Instinctively her tiny hands tugged on your shirt even in her sleep.

“Hello? Y/n? What’s wro-”

“Someone’s-” You paused, eyes widening as you heard two men now loudly arguing downstairs. “Someone’s here. I can- I can hear them downstairs, Buck. There’s someone in the house.”

At first he didn’t say anything and you were afraid he didn’t hear you properly until you heard him cursing on the other line.

“Y/n, listen to me.” You heard him say finally- you weren’t sure if you had ever heard him so serious. “In the basement underneath the rug there’s a door. If you open it up there’s a crawl space over there- take the kids and go hide there until I can get there.”

Even though he couldn’t see you, you nodded, tip-toeing out of your daughter’s room and into your son’s, still hearing shouting downstairs.

“Okay. Okayokayokay.” You whispered into the phone, reassuring yourself that you could get the task done. “Incase anything happens-

“D- don’t say that.” You heard your husband stutter on the other end. “You’re going to be okay, baby. I’m... I’m gonna get there soon, okay?”

“Okay.” You assured him, not really believing it.

Your phone still tucked beneath your ear, you shook your son awake and as soon as he opened his eyes, you placed see your hand over his mouth.

“You have to be quiet.” You whispered, just enough that he could hear. “Can you be quiet for Mama?”

Eyes still wide, you watched as your son nodded his head.

“There’s bad guys in the house, okay?” You said, pulling on his hand to help him out of bed. “So you and me and your sister have to go to the basement and wait for Dad. We have to be super quiet, okay? They can’t hear us.”

“L-like spies?” He asked.

“Yeah, buddy.” You smiled, trying to hold it together for the children in your arms. “Like spies.”

Picking up your phone one last time you told your husband that you loved him and without another word, you hung up on Bucky, slipping the phone into the pocket of your sweatpants. 

Squeezing your son’s hand and being sure to not step too heavily on the wrong floorboards, you peeked around the doorway to make sure no one had made their way upstairs. When the coast was clear, you tip-toed down the hallway to the top of your staircase. Listening, you heard more than two men arguing downstairs. 

You swore to yourself, afraid you wouldn’t be able to make it to the basement without getting caught when you heard the door to your garage swing open and the men’s feet slowly become quieter as they made their way into it.

Thanking God for your chance, you sped down the stairs, your children in tow.

Swinging the door open to your basement you raced down another flight of stairs, unsure of how much time you had left before they realized that you were there.

You moved your daughter out of your arms and into those of your son, pulling the rug off of the floor to unveil a hatch.

Seeing the hatch in the floorboards, a part of you questioned how you had never seen this before. How did you not know about this? What wasn’t your husband telling you, keeping random crawlspaces a secret?

Pulling it open you saw a small crawlspace hiding inside, about three feet deep and four feet wide. The only thing kept inside it was a large safe.

Assessing the situation you realized that you had two options- either attempt to take the safe out of the crawlspace, risking making a loud noise that would alert the intruders in your home to come straight for the basement... or safely hide your children in the spot that was left in the crawlspace.

“Shit.” You swore to yourself, hands trembling at your side.

“What’s wrong, Mama?” Your son asked, behind you.

At the sound of his voice, you spun around to face him.Taking a deep breath to compose yourself and smiling you kneeled in front of him placing your hands on  his shoulders.

“Everything’s okay, baby.” You assured him, smiling. “I just... do you think you can take care of Rebecca for me?”

Not speaking another word, he nodded still holding his sister in his arms.

Holding yourself back from allowing your voice to crack you pulled your daughter out of your son’s arms.

“I knew you could, hon.” You smiled and grabbing his hand you led him into the crawlspace, helping him jump down into the hole.

When he sat down comfortably in the corner of the crawl space, you carefully lowered your daughter into his arms. Fighting back ears in your eyes you pat his hand.

“Keep her quiet, okay?” You said, placing your finger over your lips. “I need you two to stay nice and quiet. I’m going to shut the top and you don’t say anything until your hear Daddy, alright?”

Nodding, your son hugged his sister tighter in his arms. Reaching out your hand to brush your thumb against his cheek you gave him one last smile.

“I love you so, so much- you know that?” You told him, sitting on your heels on the edge of the crawl space looking over them. “Now stay still, okay? I love you so much.”

And with that you shut the hatch, a loud sound ringing throughout not only the basement, but the house as you did.

When you heard multiple footsteps stomping down the staircase, you quickly threw the rug over the hatch and fell onto your back on the floor. Looking up from your spot you found three men standing above you- the one in the center looked older than all the rest and once your eyes met his, he took a step towards you, causing you to scramble backwards towards the wall.

Despite trying to leave his grasp, he leaned down, grabbing your chin in his hand and pulled your face only inches away from his.

“Where’s the Winter Soldier?” He asked, so close you could feel his breath on your face.

To say you were confused was an understatement. When you heard intruders break into your house, you were sure it would be to rob you, but now as this man stood in front of you, all he did was ask you a question you couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

“Who....” You shook your head, your eyes scanning the faces of the other men behind the one in front of you. “What? I... I don’t know what you’re talking about-”

Grasping your chin tighter, you could see the scowl grow on the man’s face.

“Don’t-” He sighed. “I know you know who he is.”

In your mind you ran through the name, but as hard as you tried it didn’t ring any bells. Frustrated and terrified you shook your head.

“I swear.” You told the man in front of you, desperately. “I don’t know who that is. You have the wrong person.”

The still unnamed man released your chin from his grasp before turning his head to look at the frame that hung on the wall beside him. Tearing it off the wall, he shoved the frame in your face.

“So, you don’t know who the winter soldier is?” He asked again. Looking at the picture you saw it was one of you and your husband from years ago when you had first bought your home. Shoving the frame closer to your face, the man pointed at Bucky. “Then who’s this?”

You glanced at the other men in the room before looking back at the man.

“That’s my husband!” You shouted. “Who the fuck is the winter soldier?”

As soon as you shouted the words, the man threw the frame against the wall and you jumped as you heard the glass shatter and fall onto the ground.

“That’s the winter soldier!” The man in charge shouted, pointing to the broken frame now lying on the ground.

You flinched as the man shouted and kicked the glass shards across the basement floor. 

You were so consumed in worry and terror over the situation that you could barely understand what the man was telling you. Who was the winter soldier? What did he want with him? Why was he telling you that it was your husband?

He paced across the basement and you watched as he finally stopped in front of the two men that were still standing above you and faced them.

“Fine. That’s it.” He grunted. “We’ll take her with us.”

Without another word, the man in charge shoved through the other two men and made his way up the staircase. As soon as he ascended the flight of stairs, the two men made their way towards you and as much as you attempted to make your way to your feet and scramble your way out of their grasp, their hands landed on your arms and pulled you towards the stairs.

“Let go of me!” You shouted, kicking your feet on the steps below you as they dragged you up the staircase from the basement. “You have the wrong person!”

The two men said nothing as they continued to drag you out of the first floor of your house and into the front yard where an unfamiliar car was waiting. As one of the men swung open the back door of the vehicle you struggled in the other man’s arms.

“I’m not the person you’re looking for!” You shouted again desperately and helplessly.

As the two men threw you into the backseat of the car, tying your hands behind your back before you could attempt to do anything else, you finally heard the voice of the man in charge once again, sitting in the driver’s seat.

“You’re right.” He told you, meeting your eyes in the rearview mirror. “You’re not the person I’m looking for... but... you’ll bring me the person I want.”

You listened as one of the men who had grabbed you, made his way into the front seat while the other slipped into the backseat of the car beside you, slamming the door shut.

“What are we going to do about the winter soldier?” The man in the passenger seat asked his boss.

“Don’t worry,” The man in charge said, shifting the car into drive. “The winter soldier will come for her... and he’ll pay for his crimes.”

-

As you hung up the phone with the last words leaving your mouth being a shaky “I love you”, Bucky stood in the corner of the room, staring at the phone in his hands, beginning to feel his hands shake and his heart practically beat out of his chest.

“Buck?” Sam asked, laying his hand gently on his friend’s shoulder. “Hey man, you good?”

Staring at the wall in front of him all he could think about was what he had done to you. Those weren’t random intruders- they couldn’t be. He had no doubt in his mind that they were after him, but you- and possibly even your children- were the ones who were dealing with the consequences of his mistakes.

“Barnes?” Natasha asked from her seat at the table, glancing between Bucky and Sam.

Squeezing his shoulder once again, Sam asked. “Who’s Y/n?”

Without turning to face any of them, still staring at the same spot in the wall- he finally spoke.

“My wife.”

You were his wife and you were in trouble all because of him. All because he couldn’t tell you the truth. All because he couldn’t protect you. You didn’t even know what you were getting yourself into.

“I have to go.” He said, brushing off Sam’s hand before leaving the room.

You were his wife and he was going to get you back- whatever it took.

[dekuskacchan]

i will follow you into the dark

Rating: T

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a happy ending, Fluff

Summary: Izuku has finally returned to UA, and Katsuki will never let him go again.

Or: Izuku and Katsuki finally discuss their feelings.

A/N: Hi again, friends! Since chapter 322 is out now and dominating all of our lives, I felt inspired to write. This is intended to be a sequel to my fic "Tell Me I'm Dreaming," and takes place immediately after the events of chapter 322. So, spoilers are ahead for that chapter! I hope you like it <3

I'd also like to note: Izuku ate and took a bath when he got back, I just couldn't figure out how to work that in. Fear not, he is a clean and fed boy :')

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33153718

-

Katsuki watches the gentle rise and fall of Izuku’s chest as he sleeps, undoubtedly for the first time in days. He’d fallen asleep the second his head hit the pillow on the small bed in Recovery Girl’s office, and hasn’t budged since.

In the 12 hours Izuku has been back at UA, Katsuki has left his side once, only with substantial convincing from Glasses and Shitty Hair.

“Dude, he’ll probably be out cold for a few more hours. At least go scarf down some food and take a nap,” Shitty Hair said.

“Shut the fuck up,” Katsuki retorted, “I ate this morning. And I have slept.”

Kirishima let out an exasperated sigh that irritated Katsuki to no end.

“Did you come here just to piss me off?” he snapped.

“We are concerned for your well being, just as we are Midoriya’s,” Iida said, “you haven’t fully recovered from your own injuries yet. You need to rest.”

“I said I was fucking fine.”

Iida looked at him with knowing eyes and a gentle smile. It annoyed Katsuki even more.

“He won’t disappear if you stop watching him, Bakugou."

“Yeah. We’ll stay with him,” Kirishima added with a thumbs up.

Katsuki gritted his teeth. As much as he hated to admit it, they were right. His empty stomach only served to fuel his anger more.

“I hear they’re serving spicy curry for lunch in the cafeteria,” Iida coaxed.

Katsuki had relented at that point, not because it was his favorite, of course, the growling in his stomach was just giving him away.

Katsuki returned less than an hour later. Kirishima and Iida admittedly had reassured him, to some degree, but it wasn’t enough to quell his anxiety. Iida scolded him for refusing to rest, but did nothing to stop him, as if he knew his efforts were futile. The pair stayed with Katsuki at Izuku’s bedside a while longer, but left him to his devices nonetheless.

Half and Half stopped by some time later, tapping on Katsuki’s shoulder and waking him from a restless sleep in a shitty plastic chair at Izuku’s bedside.

“Wouldn’t it be more comfortable to sleep in your bed, Bakugou?” he asked, sitting in a chair adjacent to him.

“I was sleeping just fine before you fucking showed up, you Half and Half bastard,” Katsuki snarled.

“I’ve been here for an hour and a half, actually,” Todoroki stated. Always so fucking deadpan.

“Why the fuck did you wake me up now then?”

“You looked uncomfortable.”

“I’m fine, asshole,” Katsuki grumbled. Todoroki looked unconvinced.

“I figured you would say that. Here, I brought you this,” Todoroki produced a blanket from behind his chair and handed it to Katsuki.

“I don’t need your fucking charity," Katsuki grumbled, but accepted it anyway, silently grateful for refuge from the chill in the room.

“It’s no trouble,” Todoroki patted his shoulder.

“Tch.” Katsuki shrugged him off.

They sat in silence for a while. Izuku still hadn’t budged. Katsuki was worried, but some part of him was thankful that Izuku was finally fucking resting.

“Everyone is proud of you, you know,” Todoroki said quietly.

“Haah?!”

“It took courage, what you did. We know it’s not easy for you to express your emotions,” he paused, considering his next words, “it... doesn’t come naturally to me, either.”

“No shit!” Katsuki barked. Todoroki raised a finger to his lips to shush him and nodded at Izuku, who had grunted in his sleep.

“I’m just saying, your efforts aren’t unseen. We know you’ve been working hard, and that this has been weighing on you for a long time. If it weren’t for you, Midoriya might not have listened to us.”

“You don’t know shit,” Katsuki grumbled, averting his eyes. Katsuki was beginning to feel uncomfortable. He wasn’t good at this shit, and Todoroki knew it, so why wouldn’t he shut up?

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. We can change the topic,” Todoroki said, as if he could read Katsuki’s mind.

“Or we could stop fucking talking altogether,”

Todoroki smiled and nodded, returning his gaze to Izuku. Katsuki’s eyes followed and he frowned.

“He’s such a fucking idiot,” Katsuki muttered, leaning forward in his chair and resting his chin on his hand. Todoroki chuckled.

“He is certainly reckless,” Todoroki nodded, “I’m disappointed to learn he felt he had to keep such a big secret. But, he is my friend, and I will continue to be as supportive as I can. He would do the same for us.”

“No, he’d do more, and end up getting himself fucking killed."

“That’s…" Todoroki frowned, "probably true."

They were quiet for a few minutes, and then Todoroki fucking piped up again, much to Katsuki’s dismay.

“I know Midoriya appreciated what you said,” his voice was soft.

“Words don’t matter. Actions do,” Katsuki’s response was immediate.

“Well your actions have spoken clearly. “You're a better person than you think you are, Bakugou.”

Katsuki whipped his head to glare at Todoroki with an insult on his tongue, but he found himself speechless instead, staring with an incredulous look on his face. He mentally kicked himself for it.

“I just hope you know that, too,” Todoroki offered a half-smile.

Katsuki was frustratingly taken aback. He averted his eyes and looked at the ground with a scowl. That damn fucking Half and Half.

Todoroki thankfully shut his mouth after that. Katsuki wasn’t sure how long they sat together in silence. It wasn’t until the sun had set and the room began to fill with darkness that he heard Todoroki rise from his seat.

“I’m going to go lie down. You should, too,” Todoroki said plainly.

Katsuki sighed. He was right, but there was a sickeningly uneasy feeling in his gut whenever he thought about leaving that he just couldn’t shake.

“I…I can’t,” he whispered.

“Okay.”

Todoroki patted his shoulder again, and Katsuki didn’t push him away this time.

“Thanks,” Katsuki shrugged, “for the blanket or whatever.”

Todoroki nodded. He left the door cracked behind him on his way out.

Katsuki pulls the blanket around himself and reclines in his chair, putting his feet up on Todoroki’s abandoned one. It’s really fucking uncomfortable, but Katsuki knows it would be impossible to sleep if he were anywhere else.

After too many attempts to reposition himself comfortably, Katsuki groans and sits up straight, turning his head to watch Izuku again. He’s still sleeping soundly.

Katsuki leans forward and, without thinking, brushes his hand through Izuku’s hair, pushing back a few stray curls. The moonlight flickering through the blinds illuminates his face, and Katsuki thinks that, somehow, this is the most peaceful he’s seen Izuku in ages.

Katsuki can’t remember the last time Izuku wasn’t at least slightly on edge. He is always looking over his shoulder, as if he’s expecting the enemy to be watching. He spends every minute of his free time training or muttering to himself about battle strategies. The nerd doesn’t even know the meaning of the word “relax.”

Katsuki slides his hand down to cup Izuku’s cheek. His skin is soft and warm, just like last time, and he can’t help but feel an awful sense of dèjá vu. He stays that way for a few moments, just reveling in the fact that Izuku is really here. This isn't a dream, he’s finally here, and Katsuki will never fucking let him go again.

When Katsuki reluctantly moves to pull away, Izuku reaches up to grab his hand, nuzzling into it.

Katsuki is startled, as Izuku is seemingly still asleep. He brushes Izuku’s cheekbone with the backs of his fingers, and swears he sees the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“You’re a dumbass,” Katsuki mumbles, propping his elbow on the bed to rest his head in his free hand.

“I can hear you, Kacchan.”

Katsuki jolts up in surprise to see Izuku staring at him with one eye cracked open and a smirk on his lips.

“Shit, did I wake you?” Katsuki tries again to pull his arm away, but Izuku holds on tight, as if Katsuki is his lifeline and he’s barely hanging on.

“D-don’t go,” Izuku stutters, burying his face in Katsuki’s hand. Katsuki caresses his cheek again and frowns when he finds wetness there.

“Are you crying?” Katsuki asks, though he’s not sure why, because he already knows the answer.

“N-no,” Izuku sniffles. Katsuki rolls his eyes and sighs.

“Hey, look at me,” Katsuki whispers, lifting his free hand to Izuku’s other cheek and turning his head to face him.

Izuku whimpers, holding Katsuki’s arms in a vice grip as he looks up. His eyes are sunken and glassy, overflowing with tears that Katsuki wipes away with his thumbs.

Fuck, he looks like a fucking zombie. His face is paler than usual and littered with scratches, and heavy, dark circles line his eyes. Katsuki suppresses a sudden urge to wrap him in his arms and hold him tight.

“What’s wrong?” Katsuki murmurs, stroking his cheeks in what he hopes is a soothing manner.

Izuku’s face contorts and a new wave of tears begin to fall.

“I-I’m so s-sorry Kacchan,” he snivels.

Katsuki holds his face tighter.

“I told you, we get it. Don’t beat yourself up, you’ve already done plenty of that.”

Izuku chokes a laugh through a broken sob and Katsuki counts it as a small victory.

“I a-am pretty messed up, h-huh?” Izuku hiccups, “but so are you.”

“Tch. I’m fine,” Katsuki lies, feeling a familiar twinge of pain in his side.

“I kn-know you better than that, Kacchan,” Izuku meets Katsuki’s gaze, “d-don’t think I didn’t see you bleeding back there.”

“I was bleeding. I’m not anymore, see?” Katsuki points to his newly applied bandages, “The old lady patched me up.”

Recovery Girl had given Katsuki a thorough scolding for tearing his wounds. Something about being too reckless, to stop throwing himself in front of danger because isn't it hypocritical of you to tell Midoriya to look after himself, but you won't do the same? That had pissed Katsuki off to no end, but he’d accepted her help anyway.

“Y-you could’ve hurt yourself-”

“But I didn’t! Quit worrying about everyone else,” Katsuki looks Izuku dead in the eyes, “think about your goddamn self for once.”

Izuku shakes his head frantically.

“I can’t. I said so many terrible things I- I h-have to apologize-,” Izuku tries to get up, but Katsuki is lightning fast as he moves to sit on the bed in front of him, gripping his shoulders to hold him in place.

“You can do that later. You need to fucking relax. Did you forget you were beaten to a pulp?” Katsuki reminds him.

“Kacchan, I’m f-”

“Don’t fucking say you’re fine! You’re not, and you know it.”

“It doesn’t matter, Kacchan!” Izuku shouts,“I can’t- I can’t just sit here while everyone else is-”

“Everyone is safe,” Katsuki lightly shakes him, “and we’re safer if we're together.”

Izuku presses the heels of his hands to his eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” Izuku repeats himself. His voice is shaking. “I ne-”

“Shut the fuck up. You matter,” Katsuki says firmly, pulling Izuku’s hands away and holding onto them.

Izuku weakly lifts his head to meet Katsuki’s eyes. He looks taken aback, and even more exhausted than before, but Izuku is just as stubborn as Katsuki is, and Katsuki can tell he still has an argument left in him.

“Izuku,” Katsuki watches Izuku's eyes widen as he utters his name for a second time. It feels foreign on his tongue, but he knows the weight it carries, and he'll say it over and over if it makes Izuku happy.

Katsuki pushes back the hair that’s fallen in front of Izuku's face and knocks their foreheads together.

“Izuku,” he repeats, “ You fucking matter,” there’s a sharpness to Katsuki’s tone he hadn’t intended, but he can tell Izuku gets the message. He swears he sees the color return to Izuku’s bloodshot eyes before they squeeze shut, overflowing with new tears.

Izuku buries his head in Katsuki’s chest and wails. Katsuki immediately wraps his arms around him and pulls him into a tight embrace, ignoring the aching pain in his injured shoulder and side.

“I-I’m s-so sorry,” Izuku’s entire body shakes as he clings to Katsuki. Katsuki holds him tighter, rubbing gentle circles on his back.

“Shh, it’s okay. Everything’s okay,” Katsuki murmurs, trying his best to soothe him, but Izuku only cries harder. Katsuki’s own eyes begin to burn.

“It’s s’not o-okay, Kac-chan,” Izuku stutters.

“Nobody is mad at you."

“Th-they should b-be,” Izuku insists miserably

“Well they’re not.”

“I think All M-might is.”

“Haah?! The fuck kind of reason does All Might have to be mad at you?” Katsuki is baffled. “I should fucking clock him in the face again.”

“Y-you punched All Might?!” Izuku lifts his chin to stare incredulously at Katsuki.

“Damn right I did. But that’s beside the point. Why the fuck’s he mad?”

Izuku hides his face again, his voice muffled by Katsuki’s now damp shirt and his own sobs, “I w-was so mean t-to him. I told him I d-didn’t need him anymore and r-ran away, I-”

“Breathe, Dek- Izuku,” Katsuki whispers, brushing Izuku’s cheek with his fingers as Izuku begins to hyperventilate. “Breathe. He’s not mad, he’s probably just worried.” He better not be fucking mad.

“I-I have to t-talk to him too,”

“It can wait. Right now you need to fucking rest.”

They stay that way for a while, wrapped in the safety of each other’s arms as Izuku’s cries slowly start to dissipate. At some point, Katsuki isn’t sure when, traitorous tears start to roll down his own face. Izuku notices before he does, feeling the sudden moisture on his shoulder, and he tells him so.

“I’m not fucking crying,” Katsuki grumbles, though his voice is hoarse.

“It’s o-okay Kacchan,”

“Shit,” Now they’re both blubbering idiots.

Izuku squeezes Katsuki tighter as they cry together. Katsuki tries not to wince as he returns the gesture, his shoulder screaming in protest, but Izuku notices. Of course he fucking notices.

“K-Kacchan-,” Izuku’s voice is laced with unnecessary concern as he immediately loosens his grip and starts to pull back.

“Don’t,” Katsuki growls, rubbing his eyes, “Don’t fucking worry about me.”

Izuku sniffles and shakes his head, “I c-can’t help it.”

Katsuki heaves a sigh. “I know.”

Izuku places his shaky, scarred hands on either side of Katsuki’s face in a gentle caress that makes Katsuki’s heart fucking squeeze. When he finally lifts his eyes, he finds Izuku looking at him with a wobbly smile. His cheeks are tear-stained and there's a trace of something haunted behind his eyes, but it's undeniable that a weight has lifted from his shoulders.

Katskui quirks his lips in a half smile. Fuck, he’d missed Izuku.

Izuku yawns and lies back in the bed. “I’m tired again.”

“Well, get some sleep then, nerd,” Katsuki moves to slide back in his chair, but Izuku stops him, grabbing his hand.

“Wait! I- could-” Izuku bites his lip, “could you...stay with me?”

Katsuki squeezes his hand. “I’m not going anywhere, nerd. Someone has to keep your ass in line," he smirks.

Izuku laughs, the first real laugh Katsuki has heard in ages, and Katsuki thinks it might be his favorite sound.

“No, I mean here, next to me,” Izuku scoots over in the bed and pats the space next to him.

“I don’t think-”

“Just until I fall asleep,” Izuku pleads, “...please?”

Katsuki finally relents and slides in next to him. Izuku looks relieved, draping the blanket around them both and curling up to Katsuki’s uninjured side. Katsuki wraps his arm around Izuku’s waist, careful not to dislodge the bandages there. He briefly wonders why this feels so natural.

Izuku’s voice is barely above a whisper when he speaks next. “I- I’m scared, Kacchan.”

“I know. But everything’s gonna be fine."

“I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of me.”

“No one’s gonna get hurt. We’re gonna figure this out, and we’re gonna figure it out together.”

“I really shouldn’t be here,” Izuku sighs.

“Shut the fuck up. You really wanna be out there? Where people are lookin’ to wring your neck at every turn?”

“Of course not! But that’s exactly why I should be. No one here is safe while I’m around.”

Izuku startles when Katsuki suddenly grabs his chin and lifts it up with his free hand to make Izuku look him in the eyes “Bullshit. I already told you, you can’t win this alone. So stop trying."

Izuku swallows hard, on the verge of tears again. Katsuki tucks Izuku's head under his chin.

"Saving people is how we win, remember? That means you gotta let us save you sometimes, too." Katsuki holds Izuku tight as he cries, gently combing his fingers through thick green curls.

“You should be here," Katsuki continues, "you belong here, Izuku." With me, he adds, but only in his thoughts.

Izuku stills and lifts his head from Katsuki’s chest to stare at him with wide, curious eyes. He's no longer crying. “Kacchan?”

“What?” Katsuki is confused as he watches Izuku’s cheeks flush a deep red.

“I belong with...you?”

Fuck, did he say that out loud?

Katsuki suddenly becomes very aware of their proximity and feels his own face heat.

Their faces are already inches apart, and Izuku is coming closer, cupping Katsuki's cheeks with freezing cold hands. He's close enough that Katsuki can feel Izuku’s heartbeat, his breath on his nose, and fuck, when did their legs tangle together?

Izuku’s thumb lightly strokes his cheekbone and Katsuki finds himself inadvertently leaning into his touch. His breath catches in his throat when he finally meets his gaze. Izuku’s eyes are soft and warm and he’s smiling, a real smile that is secretly Katsuki’s favorite, one that he hasn't seen in far too long. He decides he would sooner die than see it extinguished ever again.

He's embarrassed by his accidental confession, but something about the way Izuku is looking at him, with that soft gaze full of light and wonderment Katsuki knows is reserved only for him, makes the anxiety melt away. The eyes that used to infuriate him now leave him feeling warm and safe, like he has a place in this world, and he realizes there's nowhere he'd rather fucking be than right by Izuku's side.

"Did you mean that?" Izuku whispers, breaking him from his reverie.

“Yeah. Stay with me,” Katsuki grazes his fingers across Izuku's cheek. "...please."

Izuku's smile is breathtaking. It lights a fire in Katsuki's chest.

"I will," Izuku breathes, leaning in to close the distance between them.

Their lips meet halfway in a desperate kiss and a jolt of electricity courses through Katsuki's body. Izuku's hands tangle into Katsuki's hair and Katsuki cradles his face as they explore each other for the first time. It's messy and uncoordinated, but Izuku's lips are soft and inviting and nothing has ever felt so fucking right.

Katsuki's hold on Izuku's waist tightens, pulling him closer, but it's still not close enough. They've been through a decade of miscommunication and separation, unchecked feelings, and the debilitating fear of losing each other. Now that Izuku is here, safe in his arms, Katsuki wants nothing more than to stay in the warmth of this moment forever, to melt into each other and never let go again.

"K-Kacchan," Izuku pants as he slowly pulls away. Oh, right, breathing.

He presses his forehead to Katsuki's as they gasp for air, and they cling to each other as if the other could disappear at any moment.

Katsuki's head is spinning as he looks at Izuku. His cheeks have flushed deeper, lips kissed red and swollen, eyes blown wide as he stares in amazement.

"I missed you," Izuku whispers between heavy breaths.

"Me too,"

Katsuki tucks Izuku's head into the crook of his neck and holds him tight.

“I am….glad to be back,” Izuku murmurs, “it was terrifying out there. I was so exhausted."

No shit, Katsuki thinks.

"Do you want to...talk about it?"

"I-" Izuku pauses, considering. His voice is small when he says, "Maybe later. I don't...I don't want to think about it right now."

Katsuki laces the fingers of one hand with Izuku's and squeezes.

"Okay. But, uh, I'm here if you do. Want to talk or whatever." Katsuki tries his best to sound encouraging. Izuku tilts his head up and nods with a smile.

“Okay.”

There's still so much Katsuki wants to say, but he can't put it into words. He's always been better with actions. He thinks back on all that he said before Izuku passed out in his arms, and wonders if it was enough.

Out of the corner of his eye, Katsuki notices Izuku peering up at him.

“What are you staring at, nerd?” Katsuki smirks as Izuku averts his eyes, color blooming on his face again.

“I- I’m not, I just- thank you, Kacchan.”

"For what?"

“For everything.”

Katsuki shrugs. “I didn’t do shit."

"Yes you did," Izuku brushes a lock of hair behind Katsuki's ear, "you're here right now. You listened, you encouraged me, you made me feel safe enough to come back here. I wouldn’t have had the strength without you.”

Katsuki is at a loss for words.

"Todoroki was right, you know," Izuku says softly, "you're better than you think you are."

Katsuki feels his face flush and looks away. But then it dawns on him.

"You were listening to us?"

"Uh- just a little...only bits and pieces."

"You were awake? Why the hell didn't you say anything?"

"I didn't want to interrupt you," Izuku shrugs. "You and Todoroki never talk, it seemed important. Plus, I was so out of it I thought I was dreaming at first."

"So you were just eavesdropping like a creep?" He teases, snickering when Izuku buries his face in embarrassment.

"I'd rather talk to you than that Half and Half bastard, dumbass," Katsuki ruffles Izuku's hair.

"Sorry, Kacchan."

"Quit apologizing."

Normally he probably would be pissed, but there isn’t even a trace of anger in him right now.

"I'm not the only one who's reckless, by the way," Izuku playfully nudges Katsuki.

"I'm not fucking reckless."

Izuku frowns. "Kacchan, you were stabbed. And you tore open your wounds trying to get to me when you should've been taking it easy. You took off into battle without a second thought."

"Sounds familiar," Katsuki glares at him.

"I know. I admit I don't always think things through….and sometimes I think too much. I never put myself first. You made me realize that. I'm...going to try to work on it. But you can't deny that you do it sometimes too."

Katsuki is silent again.

"And when was the last time you ate? Or slept somewhere other than a tiny chair? You tell me I need to take better care of myself, but you don't do the same."

"I'm fine." Katsuki insists, but Izuku knows him better than he knows himself and sees right through the lie.

Katsuki sighs. Deep down, he knows Izuku and the old lady are right. Sometimes... he can be a dumbass and a hypocrite.

"My body…I told you, it moved on it's own. I just saw you in the air and fucking panicked. You were about to die," Katsuki’s voice shakes, “You were about to die, and it was like… like my entire fucking life flashed before my eyes. There was so much I needed to say to you, I couldn't handle the thought of losing you, Izuku. Especially before- before I had the chance to-, " Katsuki squeezes his eyes shut and grunts in an effort to hold back tears that were threatening to fall.

Katsuki feels Izuku's gentle touch on his cheek again and meets his gaze.

"I know. It's okay. Let's just agree that we're both idiots and try to be better, together. If not for ourselves, then for each other. I can't stand the thought of losing you either, Kacchan," Izuku's eyes are impossibly soft

"I really do appreciate everything you said, Kacchan. It means so much to me. I know it's not easy for you to do that."

"I meant every fucking word," Katsuki says firmly.

"I know. And I forgave you a long time ago, Kacchan. Yeah, things were rocky for a while, but I see you. I see how you've changed, and how much effort you've been putting in. I feel safest and strongest when I'm with you. You're the most amazing person I've ever known, and you always will be."

Izuku's eyes well up with tears again as he smiles, and Katsuki feels like his heart could burst out of his chest. He presses a gentle kiss to Izuku's palm and cups his face, tracing his lips with his thumb.

"You make me stronger," Katsuki stares deep into his eyes.

Katsuki feels his brain short circuit as Izuku presses a gentle, sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth. Katsuki holds him there as he pulls away, chasing his lips with his own.

This kiss is softer and less hurried, but just as passionate. They're completely enveloped in each other as they revel in the fact that this is real. There’s nowhere in the world either of them would rather be. Katsuki didn’t realize just how badly he needs Izuku until he was gone, and thinks that, maybe, Izuku feels the same way.

It feels like it’s been an eternity when they slowly break apart, and Katsuki can’t help the smile that spreads across his face.

Izuku lays his head on Katsuki's chest and cuddles up to his side. Katsuki idly strokes his back, just relishing the moment.

Fuck, he’d missed Izuku.

"I don't mind if- uh, if you keep calling me Deku, by the way," Izuku mutters..

"You don't like it when I say your name?"

"No! No, that's not it- I mean it is a little weird, but uh- I like it? Hearing it in your voice, I mean," Izuku rambles on, and Katsuki finds that he's even missed that too.

"I just, um, I mean- Deku is fine too. It has a different meaning for us both now, you know? It stopped being an insult a long time ago. And, uh, it feels, um...special, I guess? I don't know. My point is, either is fine. I don't want you to feel like...like you're disrespecting me, or something," Izuku's face is bright red as he notices Katsuki smirking at him.

"You're such a nerd," Katsuki laughs when Izuku scowls, and presses a kiss to his forehead, “I’ll call you whatever the fuck you want me to call you.”

“Either is good. I promise.”

“I guess we’ll have to wait and see then, huh?”

"Yeah," Izuku smiles, then his brows furrow and he pauses. "Katsuki."

They both frown and Katsuki shakes his head.

"Nope. Too weird. I'd rather be Kacchan forever,” Katsuki grimaces.

“I think so too,” Izuku laughs.

"You should sleep, nerd." Katsuki murmurs.

"Mm, yeah,” Izuku yawns, “You should too, Kacchan."

"Yeah, yeah."

"But you'll still be here when I wake up, right?" Izuku looks up at him with pleading eyes.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Izuku breathes a sigh of relief and snuggles closer.

"Tomorrow...tomorrow is gonna be hard."

"Nah. I'll beat the shit out of anyone who tries anything funny. Like I said, we'll get through this.”

"Together?"

"Together."

-------

bonus:

Sunlight is filtering through the blinds of the room's tiny window when Katsuki awakens. He feels more rested than he has in ages. Izuku is still curled up at his side with his head on his chest, snoring softly, and Katsuki can’t help but smile.

“Nice, bro!” someone whispers from the doorway. Katsuki’s head whips up to see Shitty Hair and Sparky, grinning at him with their thumbs up.

Katsuki is filled with white hot rage as his face flushes. If it wasn't for the fact that Izuku has him pinned, he would beat the shit out of those assholes.

“See ya, loverboy!” Kaminari whistles as they bolt out of the room.

Oh, they are dead meat when Katsuki’s hands are free.

--

A/N: I wrote this while listening to "I Will Follow You into the Dark" by Death Cab for Cutie and "Make You Mine (acoustic)" by PUBLIC-highly recommend them if you're looking to yearn lmao

The large block of italicized text is meant to be a flashback- I hope that was clear :')

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!! Feedback/reblogs are appreciated as always <3

Also- shout out to @sheiireen for her very helpful advice on this. She's amazingly talented, you should check her out!!

[writingtoforgetreality]

Stockholm Syndrome (Helmut Zemo x Reader)

[Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: During the fight with the Dora Milaje in his safe-house, Zemo made an exit. But not alone. For inexplicable reasons, he dragged you along. Probably because he wanted to mess with Sam & Bucky. Would the Baron kill you? Or worse?

Words: 4,083

Warnings: language, angst, fluff (?), kidnapping, spoilers for TFATWS, (Let’s put the angsty shit in this part & the fun stuff in the second one.), (Y/E/C) = your eye color, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

The fight in front of you held your entire attention. Eyes focused on moving bodies, kicking, punching their way through. While you were not inexperienced when it came to battling, you preferred holding back. Bruises were not necessarily your favorite. Not these kind of bruises at least. All your ears could make out was the grunting radiating from the combat. Hence why the movements behind you stayed inconspicuous. Only when a cloth pressed against your nose & you had no choice but to breathe in, did you notice the jeopardy of the situation. Darkness enveloped you. The last thing you perceived was a dark silhouette picking you up. As much as you wanted to fight back, to defend yourself, it was impossible. All strength had dissipated. Whatever was happening, you hoped you would wake up again. This could not be how you died. You would not die.

Pain woke you up. But you were not hurt. At least that was what you remembered. Then it came to you. Someone had kidnapped you. If your eyes did not open soon, you would regret it later. Heavy eyelids slowly opened. Though it took many attempts to keep them that way. You scanned the room. There were no windows, no light which would have made that task easier. It took a few minutes to adjust to the obscureness. And once you did, you found yourself as perplexed as before. No restraints were obstructing your motions. Technically, you could up & leave. But it was never that simple, was it? The door was opposite of you. Your muscles were still sore. The act of standing up & waltzing over seemed like too much effort for you. The bleakness of the wall your back rested against was a more welcomed sensation. Your knees scooted closer to your chest. Arms raking around them, you hugged yourself. Hoping it would bring you a bit of comfort. Your brain failed to work properly. Because you were stumped. Who could have possibly seized you? Walker was busy getting his ass kicked. Lemar imitated his partner, pretty much. Sam ordered Bucky to help out & went into the battle right after. And Zemo was… Yeah, where the hell was Zemo during all of that? If you recalled correctly, he held a drink in his hand. Like you, he kept away from the fight. And then? You were aware that the Baron was not a saint. Neither were you. But you did not believe he would pull something like that. Then again, it was Zemo. Nobody knew his next step. Nobody but himself. Your foot tapped a rhythm on the cold, grey pavement. Usually, when your anxiety acted up, you distracted yourself. Fiddling with your hands or bouncing your legs. Something you could focus on that was not life threatening to your mind. The unknown beat managed to calm you down the slightest. Whoever held you hostage would be back soon. Your gut feeling told you so much.

Maybe you dosed off again. Because your body flinched when a creak reached your ears. Quickly, you looked around for possible threats. The only thing that had changed was the door sitting ajar. Only a diminutive gap. It was noticeable due to the light illuminating the room. There was no piece of furniture which meant that nobody lived here. It resembled a cell. But even cells had a bed, a chair. Something. The room turned dim again but only for a second. A shadow, you figured. Your captivator was here. So close, in fact, goosebumps erupted. A chill ran down your spine. This single interaction could modify your imprisonment. You still needed time to consider a successful escape plan. Which meant that you needed to observe the person keeping you here. Movies displayed such situations more than once. It was manageable. If they decided to show themselves & reveal their identity. Your eyes fell to the boots first. Black or a dark brown that was not detectable due to the lack of brightness. Next were the pants. Black again. The end of a coat came into view. Dark grey, almost anthracite. Your thoughts instantly went to one person. You could be mistaken. He was not the only one with a coat like that. Your gaze flickered up to his hands. The leather gloves were proof enough. Your (Y/E/C) eyes locked onto his brown ones. There was no shock written over your features. After all, deep down, you awaited this sight to be met with. As much as you wanted to withhold it, your eyes rolled & the sigh that left your lips was one of pure exhaustion. Zemo never made a secret out of it. His dislike for you started off the moment he first laid his eyes on you. From then on, it only seemed to increase steadily. You were a simple person. If someone treated you like shit, you returned that favor with pleasure & ten times worse.

“You are awake.” he stated the obvious after his frame entered through the doorway.

“Pretty sure I’m still dreaming.” you replied sarcastically, your elbows propping onto your knees. A smirk formed at the corners of his mouth. Whatever you said, it was the wrong thing.

“You dream about being locked inside a small cell? And I make an appearance as well? This does sound problematic, (Y/N). Nothing I would not be able to help you with.” he enjoyed this. Disgust made itself shown onto your face.

“Yeah? How could you possibly help me with that?” it took you a second to fully realize what you said. Immediately, you corrected yourself. “You know what? I don’t even wanna know.” your head rested in your hands, slightly embarrassed by turning this conversation awkward. Maybe it would have been more convenient if you just kept quiet. Zemo chuckled shortly but did not comment on it again.

“I assume you wonder why you are here.” the Baron observed your small frame on the floor. It was easy to recognize how uncomfortable you were.

“Your assumption might be correct.” your head tilted upwards, trying to hide the fear. Burying it deep down. You needed to think clearly so you could escape him.

“Would you like me to declare your purpose?” he questioned, eyebrows raising.

“Enlighten me, Baron.” you wasted no time with your reply. Maybe you imagined it but you could have sworn that his muscles tensed up when you called him by his title. You were the weaker one here so you kept your jokes at bay.

“I have no desire to get involved with the Wakandans. A getaway is more enjoyable with a suitable associate.” his hands gestured & you fathomed the seriousness behind his words.

“Oh, so that’s what I am now? An associate? Could’ve sworn I was your enemy. Improvement, I guess.” you focused on a lighter spot that interrupted the evenly dark color of the cement wall.

“I never declared you my enemy. That is solely your imagination.” Zemo stared at you but you would not give him the satisfaction of holding eye contact with him. He did not deserve it.

“I prefer my imagination then.” you stated & earned another chuckle from the Baron.

“Our departure is soon.” he let you know & left you alone once again. Great, so he did have a plan for you. But it did not seem like he wanted to murder you brutally. Basically, you could do nothing. The lock of the door clicked. No way out of this room. And your cellphone was no longer with you. He probably removed it from you while you were unconscious.

The drug Zemo had you breathe in really affected you. Tiredness rushed through you still. Falling asleep once again was inevitable. A steady, loud noise stirred you from your slumber. When your eyes opened, the chair you were seated in felt familiar. Your surroundings were not new to you. It was Zemo’s private jet. No sight of him. No sight of Sam & Bucky. The only company was the engine of the small plane, creating a ringing in your ears. Surprisingly, you were well rested. Your sleep schedule was messed up. On a good day, you slept for three hours. On a normal day, though, you were lucky if the dreamland even invited you in. Did that mean that you should thank Zemo? For drugging you? Your gratitude could stay inside, for now. It was kind of embarrassing to admit that you had enough rest because of him stunning you. All it would do was feeding his ego. He had enough of that already. Would it be clever to hop out of a plane that was thousands of feet in the air? A clever suicide mission, maybe. Zemo would not harm you. If he truly wanted to, you would be a ghost already. Where was he anyway? Certainly, he would not leave your side after kidnapping you. A look down your lap confirmed what you had feared. The trembling of your hands was noticeable. Almost worse than usual. If push came to shove, you could defend yourself perfectly fine. The Baron did not strike you as a fighter type of guy. Sure, he could handle a gun. In reality, the one thing he could really handle was his alcohol. If you had been in a cell for almost ten years, you would not be able to cope with this world either. Now that you were thinking about it...when was Zemo not drinking? Ever since you guys had teamed up, he had taken every chance to get some liquor into his system.

“How are you feeling?” a voice startled you. The cause of it was your dear captivator. His strut brought him over to you, taking a seat right opposite of you. Plopping down onto the soft cushion with a sigh, he intertwined his fingers in front of his chest. His chin rested on the back of them. The intensity with which he eyed you was unsettling. Your body curled together, shifting away from his rigid glance. The man in front of you frowned. Never before had you behaved that way. Usually, you were sarcastic, humorous. Your current state was uncommon. The fight or flight instinct kicked in. If you played by his rules, the cards were on your side. So the only natural thing was to answer him.

“Okay.” it was short but the tone held much meaning.

“Okay is not good.” he mumbled quietly, though you could still make out his words. The clouds outside of the window you were sitting next to looked like cotton. Smooth, soft. Perfect if you wanted to jump in. The sunset colored the sky in various, bright hues. A phenomenon. That was something that had always fascinated you. “Astonishing, is it not?” the silence broke when he spoke up yet again. You nodded, still gazing outside.

“We will arrive soon.” another voice joined you. The startle from your side could not be stopped. You hated how jumpy you were. Especially during such a situation. The strong, independent woman you usually were was gone. Right now, you were like a little girl, awaiting punishment for misbehavior. Apparently, the Baron was a mind reader because he soothed your worries immediately.

“You did nothing wrong, if that is one of your concerns.” he started. His eyes then flickered to the other man on the private jet. “Thank you, Oeznik.” small smiles were exchanged between the two of them. The assistant disappeared through a door again. Zemo being the only company left.

“Where are we going?” you had to know.

“Somewhere safe. Where nobody can locate me.” as his eyes met yours, he finished. “Us.” your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. His explanation was not helpful at all. You were still left in the dark. Your destination was unknown but he assured you that you would be safe. Zemo would never lie about something so significant. This bugging feeling was still present. If he did not tell you more about the location, maybe he could elucidate this.

“Why me? Why, out of everyone, did you kidnap me?” slight anger was behind your eyes but one could only notice if they looked precisely. The Baron’s head tilted. In amusement, you guessed. His forming smile held a hint of another emotion you could not quite identify.

“Kidnapping is such a harsh word, don’t you think?” was it mockery you could hear? “I believe there is no need for us to repeat our previous conversation. I told you why you’re here.” he stood up from his seat, dragging his body to the very end of the plane. There, he picked up two small glasses. The liquid of the half empty bottle of scotch poured a good amount in both of them. Evidently, one for him & one for you. His hand stretched out towards you & he offered you the drink. You eyed it suspiciously. While you were not one for drinking alcohol, maybe it would assist to calm your nerves. In the end, you reached for it, touching his hand in the process. The skin contact sent an unintended chill down your spine. Goosebumps were forming. The pit of your stomach felt odd. Never before had you experienced such a sensation. Though, & you had to admit that, it was everything but unpleasant. Your body language spoke louder than you would have liked. And it did not go unnoticed by the man in front of you. To avoid an awkward tension, he decided against commenting on your body’s reaction.

The first sip made you wince. A burning sensation washed down your throat. The Baron handled his alcohol way better than you did, that much was obvious. Unfortunately, the liquor did not numb your anxiety right away. The effect was awaited but luck was not on your side. Would it be rude to ask for another drink? The downside was not realizing how strong it was. If you got wasted then Zemo could take advantage of your state. Depended on how he defined taking advantage of you. The conversation that had died down for a while was resurrected. This time, it was you. This shocked not only you but also him.

“I don’t like you.” you stated monotonously.

“I am aware.” he chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

“You don’t like me either.” one of your eyebrows raised.

“An incorrect assumption.” his hands gestured to emphasize his words. You rolled your eyes, throwing your arms up in frustration.

“A freaking obvious fact.” you breathed out, falling back into your chair. The softness caressed you tenderly. A hum left you & your previous desperation was replaced by some sort of relaxation. Why did your emotions change so quickly? One moment, you were scared. The next, you were furious. Then, you untightened. All in the presence of the man who had kidnapped you.

“What is going through your mind right now?” seemed like he was eager to talk to you. Comfortable silence with Baron Zemo was not possible. It was either awkward or not quiet at all. Your head snapped into his direction. He was deep in thought. Occupied with whatever his mind came up with.

“I-I don’t know.” you were being honest. Spending more time with him meant no lies. At least not about such things. The next question came naturally. “What about you?” one corner of his lips lifted slightly. The first step in the right direction. Deep down, Zemo was aware that you did not exactly hate him. Liking him would be too far but at least, you tolerated him. Accepted his presence.

“I am quite fond of bringing you with me. Sam & James are irritating. Helpful but irritating. You are a delight to be around.” he confessed & you had the urge to call him out on his ridiculous behavior.

“Sounds fake but alright…” your annoyance was audible.

“I beg your pardon?” he abandoned his glass, placing it on the small table nearby. Elbows propped onto his knees & his upper body leaned forward, closer to you. But not close enough to make you feel uncomfortable.

“Ever since we met, we’ve been arguing non-stop. This is the first normal conversation between us.” your fingers pointed to him & then to you, signaling what you were talking about.

“Arguments are not an indicator for antipathy.” Zemo explained.

“Oh, they’re not?” the sarcasm was more than obvious. “What then?”

“They are concealing true emotions, burying your urges deep within.” casually spoken, as if he had prepared this exact speech multiple times before.

“My urges?” you questioned, making fun of his statement.

“Indeed.” he wore a winning smile & you hated the effect it had on you.

“Sure.” you chuckled, shaking your head in disbelief. “My only urge is to punch yo-“ both of your heads turned into the direction of Oeznik who unknowingly interrupted your conversation.

“We’re here.” he claimed, nodding briefly, & left you alone again. By the way his face changed, he looked like he was sorry for bothering the two of you. Truthfully, you were glad that he joined you because without him, you would have said something regrettable.

Paris. He dragged you to France. If your situation were any different, you would have felt excited to be here. Before you exited the private jet, Zemo threatened you. If you had the glorious idea to speak up before you arrived at your destination, you would regret it later. Basically, you thought he would kill you. Of course you had no clue that the Baron would never hurt you in any way. After all, you were a victim of his kidnapping. Whether he called it that or not. The small alleyways were decorated with narrow buildings sitting next to each other. The cobblestone street underlined the atmosphere perfectly. Eyes wide, you were overwhelmed by the impression of the beauty of the sweet town. When one of his hands reached for yours, you did not even flinch back. Because, if you were honest, it felt good. Your intertwined fingers brought you warmth. A feeling that spread out through your entire body. Sparks, almost like the beginning of a firework, started forming. The sun shone brightly. Your eyes closed contently. Hence why you did not notice Zemo watching your every move. He reminisced your features closely. The sunlight brought out the beauty of you in a way that was worth remembering. Your body sensed something. It was in your nature when someone stared at you. Carefully, your eyes opened, showing the (Y/E/C) colors that glowed almost mysteriously in the light. Warm brown ones locked onto yours. The two of you exchanged an honest, almost shy smile.

“What?” your head tilted to the side, observing his face. Looking for a sign. Any sign. But Zemo was a clandestine guy. It was almost impossible to look through him. Something inside you took that as a challenge. Maybe you could make his walls come crashing down. Maybe you were the one to change him. Wait. Why were your thoughts running down that road? He was the person to take you away from your friends. The sympathy that started building up was wrong. That much you knew. Resisting felt like a tough task. What did he say during the flight? Something about pushing down your urges. This was the first time you understood the meaning.

If you thought the town was pretty then the apartment you entered was stunning. It was on the top floor. Spacious, furnished in a minimalist way. Overly white, accentuated with colorful artwork. Special pieces to complete the look of it. It screamed expensive. The process of taking everything in took a few minutes. It was overstraining. In the best way possible. You should screw down your excitement. After all, you were part of an incredibly dangerous situation. But you let his touch linger on your skin. Just for a fraction longer. If you really wanted to, you could have retreated. Something told you that Zemo would not have forced you to hold onto him. That thought alone calmed you down a little further. Technically, he was not a stranger. Throughout the missions you had performed together, with Sam & Bucky, you two had become acquainted with. You were associates, apparently. And associates were not supposed to fear one another. Then again, associates would not kidnap each other. Your body was overthrown with mixed signals. Unknown what was wrong & what was right. Your friends would probably describe you as insane, reckless. Maybe you were. Maybe the last few weeks had formed you into a different type of person. That type who sympathized with a criminal. With a criminal who broke out of a high security jail. Since when had criminals become your type? And why were you starting to think in a very friendly, almost amorous way? Looked like you really were insane.

Who would have thought the Baron to be an excellent chef? Definitely not you. But here he was, preparing a meal for you. This was actually pretty sweet of him. His body behind the stove & his eyes focused on the task. It was a sight for sore eyes. Only, of course, if he were not Zemo you were referring to. While he cooked, you set the table. He assured you that you did not have to but it felt like the right thing to do. It was the least you could do. What were you even saying? He kidnapped you, for God’s sake. Your body, your emotions, should be damned.

“Is this something you do often?” Zemo’s question caught you off guard. For a moment, you halted in your tracks. Cutlery was being put down. A deep breath left your mouth.

“What?” your bewildered expression made him chuckle. Funny to watch your perplexity.

“Living in your head more than in the present.” his proclamation cut through the tension.

“I…um, haven’t realized that, actually.” you answered awkwardly. Your hand raised to the back of your head, resting behind your ear.

“You do. When spending time with Sam & James. And now. It is quite entertaining.” he eyed you closely. It made you slightly uncomfortable.

“Why?” your curiosity got the best of you. That was nothing new. Even before he brought you here, your nosiness was on of your more obvious characteristics.

“Because the light in your eyes shifts. You are more at ease. Not to forget your smile…” Zemo trailed off at the end of his sentence, voice a little softer than usual.

“What about my smile?” you really were curious. Would it be in your favor or not? There was only one way to figure that out.

“It differs from when you are actively engaged in a conversation. The corners of your mouth lift in a softer way. No hesitation or restriction.” he finished, his sparkling brown eyes meeting yours. Due to the embarrassment, you could not keep eye contact. So you averted your gaze, facing the almost empty plate in front of you.

“You talk like you’ve known me forever.” your whispers were almost missed. The tone so quiet, even your racing heart was louder.

“I am simply skilled at reading people. You facilitate that process, actually.” every single word he spoke made so much sense that it almost did not make sense anymore. There was no other way to describe it.

“I do? How?” your constant short questions were amusing to him. On one hand, you wanted to distance yourself from him as much as possible. On the other hand, you inquired every single time he finished talking.

“I assume it is because you do not fear opening up to me & letting me in.” people who did not know your history would have believed you two had been friends for years. By the way he discerned the small, almost unnoticeable details about you. Details you did not even know existed in the first place.

“You assume an awful lot, Baron.” you teased, eyes moving to his face gingerly.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” but you could not. Because it would have been a lie. A smirk made its way onto his face when you did not give him a reply. Unintentionally, you mimicked his expression. He had you. Right here, he had you. And he was not the only one aware of the shift in the situation. You were just as deep in it as he was. It was a game with fire. Who would get burned in the end?

~to be continued~

Published (04/28/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @yallgotkik, @noavengers, @lieutenantn, @birdieofloxley, @aisling1985, @trelaney, @hiddlestoner-cumberbitch, @msmarvelsmain, @friday18eo, @crackerjackharkness, @waiting-for-motivation, @obsessedwithfandomsx, @friday18eo, @bibliophilewednesday, @princess-yuna, @trenton007, @pedropascallovebot, @your-lovers-heart, @stressedoutsteph (thanks for your support <3)

[mageofseven]

Bros and undateables react to MC who bakes in the middle of the night when stressed

I read this and my brain was like "so Beel's dream MC?". Of course, doing it out of stress isn't good, but Beel would definitely enjoy midnight sweets~

Anyway, will do, Nonnie! Please enjoy 😊

Also, like always, I'm splitting this into two parts: one for Brothers and the other Undateables for space reasons.

~

Lucifer:

Was heading to the kitchen to get himself more coffee to continue his paperwork.

When he saw the kitchen light on, he expected to catch Beel raiding the fridge.

Instead, he found MC at the oven, pulling out another set of cookies to add to the already monstrous pile of them on the counter.

"MC, what are you doing?"

The human jumped at his voice then gave an awkward laugh.

"Baking..."

"Yes, I have eyes, Love." He tells them. "What I mean is, why are you baking at 1am?"

"...I dunno."

The man sighed before approaching the human and turning off the oven.

"Regardless, I believe you've made enough cookies for one night. It's time for bed."

The human didn't move however.

"Darling?"

"I can't sleep..."

MC proceeds to explain how they get bad anxiety at night and how usually they can power through it, but with some school stressors on top of it, it became overwhelming and they just needed to do something to distract themselves.

The demon frowned.

"Love, you should have just came to me if you were having issues."

"But you're busy with your work--"

"That doesn't matter if you need me though."

The firstborn smoothed down their human's hair, which was messy.

"Now follow me to my room. I'll make sure you get some rest."

"But what about the cookies?"

"I'm sure Beel will wander in and take care of them for you."

Mammon:

Just got back from a party and was heading to the kitchen to grab a snack before heading up to his room

Only to find MC awake and... icing a cake?

"Oi! Human! What's with the cake?"

"I baked it."

"Well duh. But why?"

The human finished icing it, making the cake a colorful one with all of the brothers' colors.

"Because I wanted to." The human shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "Do you want a piece?"

"Uh.. sure." The demon mumbled.

He hopped onto the counter next to them as he watched them grab a plate and cut a piece for him.

MC handed the plate and a fork to him.

"It's red velvet." They said proudly.

"Yeah, yeah..." The man mumbled, taking a bite.

His eyebrows raised.

"Man, this is good!" His face went red at his words so he dialed back. "I mean, its okay... ya know."

MC gave a small smile, but it quickly fell into a heavier look.

"Hey, what's with that face??"

MC quietly hopped on the free counter next to him.

They didn't answered, just lightly kicked their feet as they stared at the floor.

"Oh c'mon, Babe, talk to me 'ere!"

MC sighed.

"I'm sorry. My anxiety is just bad tonight... I wanted to keep busy."

...oh.

The Avatar of Greed sat the plate down and put his arm around his Human.

"I don't get why you went to straight to baking..." The demon thought aloud. "But it doesn't matter. I'm home now, got that? You don't have to be anxious on your own..."

MC gave a soft smile.

"Thanks, Babe."

"Nothin' to thank me for. Now just let The Great Mammon take care of you!"

Leviathan:

This boy's sleep schedule is kinda fucked up

So it's not unusual for him to be up at 3am.

The Avatar of Envy ran out of pop in his room so he ventured out to the kitchen to get some more.

Which is how he found MC in the kitchen with like... seven cheesecakes???

"...What am I looking at?"

"Cheesecake."

"Well duh, normie." The demon rolled his eyes. "But why did you make cheesecake at like, 3am?"

Silence. Levi was suddenly worried that they hurt his Human's feelings and the look is their eyes definitely wasn't filled with the positivity that he's used to.

"Look..." He came up and hugged them close. "I just don't get it. Please don't be upset."

MC laid their head against their boyfriend's chest.

"It's fine." They mumbled. "I'm sorry... I just couldn't sleep so... I just came in to bake and this was the outcome."

"You should have just came to my room." He pulled back to look at them. "You could have been watching me play Rune Factory or something."

MC turned away from the demon, wrapping their arms around themselves.

"I'm not too clingy... right?"

"I... what?"

MC sighed.

"I didn't go to you because I was worried that you just wanted time to yourself and I'm always with you during the day..."

Levi just shook his head at every word they just said.

"Look... I always want my Henry with me." He blushed. "And yeah, I like my time away from other people, but that doesn't include you; just other normies."

"Are... are you sure?"

"I mean, yeah." He mumbled. "So... just don't worry about it, okay?"

Satan:

This man usually has a better sleep schedule but tonight he had stayed up reading just a bit too long.

He started heading to the kitchen to get some water and found MC with counter surfaces covered with cupcuakes while they looked really stressed and teary-eyed down at the one they were drawing on with icing.

"Kitten?"

MC jumped and quickly raised their hand to wipe their eyes.

Satan strode over and stopped them, looking down into their eyes.

"Kitten, what's wrong?" He wiped away a fallen tear.

They avoided their boyfriend's gaze.

"It's not working..." They mumbled.

"What are you talking about?"

"The cats aren't turning out right..." Their gaze falls to the dozen cupcakes with cat faces drawn on them in icing, but didn't meet the human's standards apparently.

The blonde raised an eyebrow. Surely they weren't in the kitchen crying over cupcakes because their designs weren't coming out well?

He sighed.

"Give me your hand." He took the human's hand with the bag of icing and brought it over a cupcake. He guided them with the design and helped them make a cleaner-looking cat.

"Thank you." MC sniffled.

Satan pressed a kiss to their forehead.

"Now what's the real issue, Little One?"

MC didn't say a word, just lightly sat the icing bag down and stared at the cupcakes.

Their boyfriend waited patiently and just rubbed circles on their hand with his thumb.

"I... I'm not gonna be sent away if I fail a class, right?"

"What are you talking about?"

MC shifted their gaze to the ground.

The blonde sighed once more and wrapped his arms around their waist.

"Talk to me, Kitten."

They sniffled.

"I'm failing my Hexes class." They mumbled. "This semester got so much harder and my grade took a nose dive... and the requirements to stay in the program say I gotta keep my grades in a certain range..."

"MC... you should have told me sooner." He tightened his embrace around them and set his chin on their shoulder.

"B-But you can't always help me--"

"Yes I can, Kitten. I'm always ready to help you when you need me."

"Satan..."

He kissed their cheek.

"And trust me when I say I would never let anyone take you away from me." He told them. "I'd fight the whole Devildom to keep you by my side."

He placed one last kiss on their temple.

"I'll help you study tomorrow. For now, let's clean up and get some rest."

Asmodeus:

Another one who just came home from a party and was heading towards his room when he heard a frustrated sigh come from the kitchen.

The demon poked his head inside and found MC staring down at... something. Whatever it was supposed to be, it just looked like charcoal now.

"Doll? What are you doing up?"

MC sighed.

"Baking." They eyed the black brick on the counter. "Or well... tried to anyway."

Asmo stepped inside and immediately went over to kiss his human.

They smiled a bit.

"Welcome home."

He smiled back and gave his Doll a big hug.

MC relaxed into the hug.

"My anxiety is just bad tonight for basically no reason." They explained, burying their face in the crook of his neck. "I was waiting for you to come home."

"Aww, Dolly." He pulled back and kissed their check. "You should have texted me! I would of been home sooner!"

"No, no, it fine." They pulled away. "Did you have fun?"

"Yep! Of course, I would have had even more fun if you came me, but I still made do~."

He gave them another kiss, this time on their nose.

"Now why don't we lay down now, hmm?"

MC smiled.

"Okay, thank you, Azzy."

Beelzebub:

Midnight kitchen raid. A usual nightly occurrence.

This time however, the Avatar of Gluttony's nose was greeted by a sweet smell as he approached the kitchen.

"Oh Beely!" The human displayed their plate full of fudge squares to him. "Please try them and tell me what you think."

Was he dreaming? The man felt like he was dreaming. Still, he didn't hesitate to accept the human's offer.

He made quick work of the fudge and smiled happily at his Muffin.

"Good?"

"Amazing." He stepped forward and hugged his human.

After a moment though, his smile fell.

"Wait...what are you doing up?"

Silence.

"Muffin?"

MC broke away and sat the now empty plate in the sink.

"I dunno. I just couldn't sleep." They explained. "I guess I just..."

The demon stared down at them, waiting patiently.

"Ugh..." MC let their face fall into his chest.

He stroked their hair quietly, brows furrowing in concern.

"I got a test on Friday and no matter how much I study for it, I can't stop stressing about it." They sighed.

"What class?"

"History..." They mumbled. "Why do we have to cover a whole century of events in one test?"

Beel patted their head and hugged their human close.

"Can I sleep with you tonight, Beely? I don't think I wanna go back to my room."

He kissed the top of their head.

"Of course, Muffin."

Belphegor:

Believe or not, its common for Sleepy Boy to be up late at night.

He sleeps so much during the day that he's usually awake starting from after his dinner nap to about 4 or 5 am.

Hence him being awake at 2am and heading towards MC's room, only to notice that their room was empty, but there was noise coming from the kitchen.

He found his Human sitting on the floor in front of the oven, staring into it.

"What are you doing?"

"Waiting for the brownies to bake." They said dully, not looking away from the oven.

"Are you baked?"

MC lightly hit his arm, but broke out into a small smile.

He smirked.

"Come on, I mean, who bakes brownies at 2am and just stares at them?"

Their smile fell, as did their gaze; they stared down at their bare feet.

Belphie frowned.

"Okay, what's the problem, Butthead?"

No response. He gave a small flick to their head.

"Ow..." The human rubbed their forehead, looking to the Avatar of Sloth as he stared expectantly at them.

They sighed.

"I've been getting nightmares lately... at least I think I have been."

The demon raised an eyebrow.

"You think you've had nightmares?"

"I... can't actually remember them." They mumbled. "All I know is that I'll have them and wake up crying with my heart pounding... but I can never remember why. Like, what the dream was about..."

"How long has this been going on?"

"About... two weeks I think?"

He flicked them on the forehead again.

"Ow!" They rubbed their forehead once more.

"Dummy. You are literally dating the demon whose an expert on sleep and stuff."

Silence. He sighed.

"Come here." He pulled them in for a hug. "Come to my room. I'll keep the nightmares away, got it?"

[dashielldeveron]

and i’ve gotta crow | takami keigo

hawks x pro-hero! reader. quirk unspecified.

summary: “You’re suffering from amnesia,” says Hawks to you, in your hospital bed.

No, you are not.

“We’re engaged to be married.”

No, you are not.

After an accident that was that bastard Hawks’s fault, you decide to play along with your diagnosis of amnesia, among other things, because how far can you make your former bully bend over backwards for you?

fluff/trickery??? completely avoidable angst, bc reader is a little shit. hawks is a scumbag bully at first. reader is honestly kind of violent. dealing with acne in a scene.

When the first things you saw after groggily blinking your eyes open were multiple IVs in the back of your hand, you flipped over and snuggled farther into your hospital bed to deal with it later, but against your will you were forced to lie flat on your back to stare into the hospital fluorescents.

When the nurse fiddling with your IVs came into focus, he said, “You need to lie on your back. You have deep gashes on your lower abdomen, and tossing about too much could open the stitches.”

That sounded like bullshit, but you were too out of it to care. “Yeah, okay,” you said through a croak, “Oh, fuck.” You wrestled a hand to your throat, massaging it. “Am I waking up from a coma? Don’t let anyone see me until I’ve done my eyebrows.”

The nurse laughed through his nose. “No, don’t worry. You’ve barely been—” He cut himself off and frowned. “The news should probably be broken to you when you have emotional support. I’ll be back soon.”

He left.

Emotional support? Wouldn’t that fucking gash on your stomach be—ooh, ouch, don’t move.

Where’s your phone? Where’s your goddamn phone; where’s any of your personal belongings? If they got crushed, you’re killing Hawks on sight.

Hawks, oh, my God. Where is he? He’s dead. If he still has the audacity to bully you professionally—fuck.

He’d cornered you on patrol earlier—whenever that was—and cut into you in that casually, negging-type way that wasn’t enough to report but enough to make you stay up late and freak out about being good enough. It hurt your chest whenever you thought about it.

But this was the first time he’d gotten seriously physical.

He’d alit on the top of the warehouse next to you, landing what would have been haphazardly for anyone else (the arch of his feet against the edge, his toes barely touching roof) and had crouched next to you, his scarlet wings completely blowing your cover as they stretched and shuddered.

“What’s a little girl like you doing in this part of town?” Hawks had propped his chin on both his fists. “Thought shoplifters were more your calibre.”

“Hawks, this is actually really important to me, so please, please leave,” you’d said, keeping your eyes on the group you could barely make out through the skylight. They’d already been partially concealed by crates, so they were hard to see.

“Someone else give you a tip for their location?” He’d tapped your opposite shoulder with the end of his wing, but you hadn’t even flinched.

“Bruh, you know I’ve been on this for weeks,” you’d said, shifting away from him, “I even shared intel at your last briefing.”

“Is that what you were talking about?” Hawks had scratched his chin. “I zoned out. Usually the little cases female heroes present aren’t in my circle, and I like to unwind when brain power isn’t needed.”

You’d planned to rip his wings out feather by feather while you’d gritted your teeth. “You can’t talk to me like that, Hawks.”

He’d laughed, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “C’mon, babygirl, have a slice of chill, won’t you? I thought you were one of the cool girls. Relax. I don’t mean anything by it.”

“Leave me alone, Hawks. You’re not gonna bully me into joining your agency. You’re not gonna bully me into quitting being a hero,” you’d said, inwardly screaming, “I’d tell you to go talk to someone who’d fall for your shit, but then, she’d have to suffer, too. So, fuck off into a sewer, jackass.”

“Oof,” Hawks had said, placing a hand over his heart and shaking his head, “You don’t have to be such a bitch, sweetheart. I’m only looking for my better half. Didn’t think it could be you, but I’d thought I’d give you a chance to prove me wrong. Don’t take yourself too seriously; just be along for the ride like the rest of us.”

“Huh,” you had said, and you’d stood and strode to the edge of the warehouse to your harness and rope, and you rappelled down the side of it as stealthily as you came up.

“I’ve been watching you all these years, sweetness, and I know you by now; I know how you really feel,” Hawks had said a bit too loudly while he flew downwards at your speed (braggart). “Strip away all of your busy work, your so-called hero trappings, and we’d mesh together just fine. We may be rough around the edges, but we clean up really nicely, don’t we?”

You’d unclipped your carabiner and stepped out of your harness, stashing it in your pack. “Fuck off.”

You’d moved towards the back entrance, but Hawks had slammed a hand against the concrete wall in front of you. You’d ducked under it and carried on, and he’d grabbed the back of your shirt.

“C’mon, if we didn’t know each other, and our eyes met from across the room at some hero gala, you’d be all over me, wouldn’t you?”

You had swiped his hand away. “I’d be putting a lid on my drink.”

His arms behind his back, Hawks had followed you through the door and behind the exposed pipes and closer to your targets. “Saw you coming onto Todoroki at the last one. You looked fine in his colours, but you would’ve looked better in mine.”

Don’t grace him with an answer; don’t grace him with an ans— “I wasn’t coming onto Shoto,” you’d said, pulling yourself up a couple of pipes for a better view—and you’d hit him when he flapped his wings to hover the few feet you’d ascended, because the noise might alert them.

“Yeah, you just simp for him, right? Then you didn’t step outside your comfortable ice queen act?” Hawks had gripped onto a pipe just underneath your ass. “You’re too much of a natural tease for that.”

How can you report him when he’s the head of his own agency? You guess the commission might listen, but what can they do besides slap his wrist? There’s really no one who can stop him, is there?

You hadn’t replied but instead crawled onto the iron catwalk. If you could position yourself about three-quarters of the way across, you’d be able to effectively activate your quirk and get this over with—wait, why would you think like that? You’d been waiting for this for ages.

A hand spreading across the small of your back had reminded you.

You’d flipped over with fire in your eyes and kicked him away as quietly as you could, but all he’d done was sit back on his knees to grin down at you, army-crawling your way through a dirty warehouse.

Would he take credit for your work again?

You’d shaken yourself. Eat my entire ass, Hawks. And with that, you’d continued inching towards your targets. When you’d gotten into position to watch them, Hawks had merely watched you.

You had scowled. “I’m gonna tear you a—”

“You had a hard childhood, didn’t you?”

A chill had unfurled up your spine, simple as that. Hawks now not only had the annoying air of an arrogant pick-up artist but also gave you an intense sense of danger. You’d moved away from him, regrettably away from your target, but Hawks had followed you, getting closer until his body heat had seeped into yours, a self-satisfied smirk plastered across his dumb face.

“I could take suuuuch good care of you, little girl,” he’d said under his breath, “if only you’d let me. No one else is crazy enough to call me out or want more than the bare minimum.” His wings had folded in on his back, making themselves as small as possible to get closer to you. “If you give in, tell me yes, say please, you wouldn’t have to let any worries cross your pretty little mind. All you have to do is let me in.”

“Yikes,” you had said, sucking in through your teeth, “God, you’re a creep.”

Hawks had slammed you down onto the catwalk, iron reverberating through the warehouse as it struck your head, and your targets had looked up by the time the catwalk hinges had loosened and had come crashing down in the midst of their meeting.

You’re really not supposed to shoot guns inside. Don’t they know that’ll ruin their ears? No matter, really. You had fought them anyway, amidst crates splintering open from whatever they were shooting at you—fuck, that was a big hole. What’s oozing out of that? Gross, don’t step in it.

One with a normal revolver—his arm had given a woody crack when you’d bent it backwards—God, that was nice. Good sounds. If you could sample them into a rap track, you would.

You’d been planning a collab with a popular rapper while you’d hurled yourself at another villain, sawdust flying—just to keep your mind busy, really, but fucking—fucking Hawks had bested whoever he’d half-assed to the ground and had shouted your way.

“C’mere, you little shit—”

He’d scooped you up while you’d been taking care of it by yourself, and he had pinned you down behind a stack of crates that reached the remains of the catwalk, straddling you but keeping most of his weight off, his wings outstretched yet still hidden from the cloud of sawdust rising with deep gurgling on the far side.

“What the fuck is wrong with you,” he’d said over the chaos, spit flying, “You can’t handle this; you’re gonna get fucking killed. I can’t babysit you all the time.”

“Get fucked; I’m the number fourteen hero,” you’d said, deadly still, but twitching in fury, “I can handle anyth—”

“Aww, fourteen. And one day babygirl might reach the single digits.” Hawks had sneered in your face. “If she manages to fuck her way through them.”

Your jaw had dropped, and you pretended to cough on sawdust and kicked him off in the confusion. Hawks had grabbed a hold of your calf, grappling for your thigh, while you’d scrambled to climb over crates to the gurgling mess on the other side; you could handle it, and you would.

You’d slapped his hands away, wrestled out of his grasp again and again, and you’d launched yourself into the dust—

Yeah.

While the fluorescent lights flickered overhead, you picked at a hangnail. You hadn’t braced yourself for the explosion, so, you guessed you deserved whatever was wrong with you now. Big-ass gashes on your stomach. Probably broken ribs. Something felt off in your left leg, besides—oh, ho, what had the doctors thought when they’d seen Hawks’s scratches?

What an idiot.

When the door creaked open, the nurse returned with a mug of water for you, but—what? Who’s that bitch following him?

You blinked, twice. With his hands in his pockets and his nasty little wings tucked in behind him, Hawks meandered to your bedside, his gaze on your throat as you swallowed down water.

God, you’re too tired to deal with him. Let’s get this over with.

The nurse glanced over his clipboard. “I’ve already told your partner this, but I thought you would want him here.”

Maybe if you ignore Hawks, he’ll leave.

“You were very brave today,” said the nurse, “Your work as a hero is greatly appreciated. You’re on temporary leave to heal, though. Like I said, you’ve got three, major gashes on your stomach, and your leg’s broken—the fibula split, if you want to know. You’ll be on crutches for a while. You have four broken ribs, and—” The nurse bit his lip and softened his voice. “You hit your head pretty hard. Nothing’s broken, but you should have amnesia, with the trauma you’ve endured.”

Should have? They don’t know? You sure as hell don’t fucking have amnesia. It barely happens in real life, and it definitely hasn’t happened to you. You remembered every fucking infuriating thing Hawks did to ruin your mission, and if he doesn’t square up—

“I’m so sorry, baby,” said Hawks, grabbing your hand. He stroked the back of it with his thumb, and then he took his glove off to hold you skin-to-skin. “You remember who I am?”

You just stared at him.

“Your fiancé’s been a real presence in the waiting room,” said the nurse, “He hardly stopped pacing the entire time you were in surgery. He wouldn’t even talk to fans.”

Oh, my God.

Holy fucking shit.

“Oops, sorry,” said the nurse, covering his mouth, “I know you were keeping it a secret. Don’t blame him, please; he only told me to be able to see you immediately.”

Shutting your eyes, you took a deep, deep breath. You have been handed a golden opportunity on a fucking Hawks-shaped platter, holy fuck, and by God are you going to take advantage of it. Imagine how much you can fucking humiliate him, how far you can take it. How much you can make him pay for how he treated you, and now, if he says he’s your fiancé, then he’s gonna fucking worship you. You’re going to mould him into your little bitch, and he’s going to thank you for it. And you’ll get endless dirt on him just by seeing his place.

Don’t fuck this up.

Exhaling, you opened your eyes, blinking a bit. You curled your lips into your mouth, biting the lower one. “I remember you’re Hawks,” you said in a nervous voice, “and I remember, uh.”

“Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart.” Hawks squeezed your hand, his tone kind. “It’ll come back in time.”

You clutched Hawks’s hand while the nurse rattled off instructions and gave you your crutches, and Hawks squeezed your hand back, softly smiling at you.

When the nurse left, you turned to Hawks and said, “I’m so, so sorry, but I—I feel like there’s something big missing that I can’t remember.” You scratched your forehead with your free hand, dragging the IVs with you.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Hawks tilted his head, still gazing decidedly down at you.

“Oh, God,” you said, “Oh, fuck. I don’t know. Um.” Take it back. Take it way back. That way he’ll dig himself into a deeper hole. The more lies he has to create, the funnier it’ll be. “Let’s see, I, hm.” You already weren’t speaking like yourself, but you looked upward as you faked combing through memories. “I don’t know how things work chronologically, but the most recent memory I have of you is—it’s after a press conference, and I’ve never been in the building before,” you said slowly, “And I can’t find the bathroom, but some press keeps following me, and I—I faceplant in between your shoulder blades, right between your wings. You—” You lowered your voice, shrinking a little in the hospital bed, “You got rid of them so easily, with just a gesture, and you put your arm around me. You were—” You shook your head, staring at both of your hands. “—so warm.”

Was that too thick? That was too thick, wasn’t it?

His free hand shot to his mouth, and he bit his knuckle. “But sweetheart, that’s,” said Hawks, his eyes watering, “That’s only around the third time we met.”

You know.

“Shit,” you said, widening your eyes, “How long ago was that?”

“Three years.” Hawks squeezed your hand and kept the pressure longer than was necessary. “Three fucking years. You don’t remember anything past that?”

You pretended to be scared to look at him. “I’m sorry; I’m so sorry—”

“No, no, you don’t have to be,” said Hawks, and he leant towards you to lift your chin, rubbing his thumb against it, “It’s not your fault.”

You had to hand it to him: Hawks was a good actor.

But so were you.

***

Hawks disappeared for a while after that, but he manifested the day you were loosed from the hospital, more than giddy to carry all of your shit all the way to your flat. He was probably getting some sick pleasure from watching you hobble on your crutches.

“I can help you, if you lean on me,” said Hawks, giving you an easy grin, “I don’t want you to be in any more pain than you have to.”

“This is something I should do myself,” you said in what was hopefully a tough-it-out voice, “I’d like to be able to walk without depending on anyone.”

“I honestly think you ought to be in a wheelchair.” His wings bristled. “But what do I know? I could fly us to your place, if you like.”

“I don’t like. I’ve gotta concentrate on limping. Stop talking, Hawks.”

You got to your flat, and Hawks had guessed which key opened the door on the first try. Drat! He was already doing a good job of acting like he’d been here before, like he’s not surprised that the number fourteen hero lives in a pretty shitty apartment (you started living here as a student and got too damn comfortable for your own good—plus, you didn’t want your cat to endure the trauma of moving).

Hawks plopped your keys in the bowl by the door with a clatter, and he shut the front door behind you, flipping one of the locks.

He set your stuff neatly on the kitchen table—your purse, your tactical pack, your ropes—and lay your dry-cleaned hero suit over the back of a kitchen chair, and his hands were on you the next moment to guide you to your tacky, sunflower couch. Removing one crutch, he put your arm over his shoulder instead, one hand planted on your lower back above your bandages, and he eased you down onto the cushions.

Hawks then stepped over your legs to sit on your opposite side, and he brought your legs to rest in his lap, his hand gripping your non-casted leg. “Gotta keep it elevated, chickadee.”

You let yourself giggle. Time to get this shitshow started. “Thank you so much for helping me, Hawks; I know I’ve been a real hassle these past few days, and you shouldn’t have to deal with that sort of stress. You’re already under so much. I don’t understand how the commission would let you date anyone, let alone propose.”

“Oh, I know,” said Hawks, spreading himself out on the couch. He shifted himself to face you in addition to accommodate his wings—he was now positioned so that they’d drape over the arm of the couch instead of being squished against the back cushions. That bitch, he probably wasn’t used to couches that weren’t custom made to his special body requirements. Spoiled fuck.

“The commission was really pissed when they found out. Do you remember how, sweetness? Right, I’ll tell you,” said Hawks, running an ungloved hand through his hair before shaking it loose. “You remember up to the press conference with the faceplant. Short version is that you hated me for a good year before something clicked. You started acting awkward whenever I was around, avoiding me, and stuff. Sometimes getting red. I thought it was cute.”

You ducked your head. Flustered. He probably likes easily flustered women.

Wait. That’s not who you are. And he’d like you for who you are, if you’re engaged.

But at the same time, if you’re (gag) in love with him, wouldn’t you be flustered by some of the things he says?

Easy, baby. Take it as it comes. Pick your battles. Go with your gut.

And gut says make Hawks eat shit.

“You think I’m cute?”

“I know you’re cute.”

You’re going to stuff his own feathers down his throat.

“We got together at that dinner Endeavor’s agency sponsored. Do you remember that at all? That place with the purple lights. You’d gotten nervous from the crowd and had gone to take some of your anxiety meds. I caught you in the hall back from the bathroom and talked you down before going back out there.” He grinned sheepishly. “I’d like to say I’m the one who kissed you, but you took initiative before I had the guts.”

Funny. Hilarious, in fact. That was the night Hawks had solidified himself as the Biggest Dick in the World, because yeah, he’d caught you in the purple-lit hallway, but he’d caught you on the way to take your meds, not on the way back. You were talking yourself down from a panic attack and couldn’t argue him away, so he’d followed you into the bathroom, running his mouth and acting like it was an accident when the tip of his wing had knocked your two capsules down the sink.

He’d told you that if you’re a big girl, you’d be able to handle the rest of the night. Or you could leave at any time with him, and he’d make excuses that everyone would have to accept.

Honestly, you’d love to let his fake memory be true, because then, you’d be able to wear purple again without feeling queasy.

Cocking your head, you smiled. “That doesn’t sound like something I would do.”

Hawks let out a light laugh, craning his neck to rest his head on the back of the sofa. “That’s what you said that night, too. About how it felt out of character.”

“Was I good?”

Lifting his head, he raised an eyebrow at you: probably the first genuine emotion he’s shown you the whole time he’s been here. “Hm?”

“When I kissed you. Was it good,” you asked flatly.

“Oh,” Hawks said, his wings puffing out just barely, “Oh, sweetheart, you were amazing. Groundbreaking. Show-stopping.” His tongue flicked over his lower lip, and he shifted underneath your legs, leaning slightly towards you but holding eye contact before carrying on.

You shook your head. “I don’t have the energy to give you the makeout session you deserve,” you said, envisioning drowning him in the bathtub, “I’m exhausted. Forgive me.”

“Always,” said Hawks, “Want me to keep going?”

“You can hardly eat me out when we haven’t kissed yet.”

“I meant,” said Hawks, pausing to visibly swallow (was it real?), “about our relationship, but if you wanna eat—”

“Nah, keep going. So, I started the relationship? I must be crazy. Neither of us have fucking time to sleep, let alone be in a relationship.”

Hawks never shut up about how he was taking time out of his endlessly packed days to spend time with you, how time was precious to him, and if he’s spending time with you, why, then, you’d better pay up, bitch (always accompanied with his hands on his belt, subtly pointing his thumbs towards his cock).

Hawks shrugged with his wings instead of his shoulders. Interesting. Has he ever done that before? “The commission said that, but after I insisted we’d make time, they relented. Eventually,” said Hawks, jerking his head to the side, “Our quirks don’t exactly fit well, so we haven’t worked with each other professionally too often, and, of course, we’ve had to hide our relationship so that we can’t be a public weak spot to each other. Plus, we’re more marketable as eligible, young heroes.”

“Fuck the market,” you said, slumping into the pillows.

“There’s my girl,” said Hawks, grinning with his tongue caught between his teeth, “There’s her spark. I know, baby. I feel the same way, but being made into libidinous body pillows pays the bills, y’know?”

Nodding, you brought one of the couch pillows around for you to hug, and you smushed your chin into it. “Hawks,” you said, so quietly you almost couldn’t be heard over the A/C kicking on, “How long have we been engaged?”

“Four months,” he said, his grin unconsciously fading until he was essentially baring his teeth, “Since the twentieth.”

Taking a moment, you said, “I can’t remember anything at all.”

“That’s okay. It’ll come back.”

“No, I can’t—” You slid your hands through your hair, pulling at it, and you heaved a sigh. “Goddammit, Hawks. I wish I could—fuck. I’m missing something huge. I know I am.” Make him nervous. Make him lie awake at night. “I’m sorry, Hawks. It’s probably something really important, and I—”

“Shh, shh, shh, shh, it’s all right,” said Hawks, and he stood to lean over you, his hands rising to cup your face, and holy shit, his hands cover so much of your skin; is that legal? He’s got hands. “Don’t worry, baby. You’ve had a big day. Turn your brain off. I’ll take care of you.”

Red flag! Big, red flag! Creep! He’s a creep!

Your gaze fell to his jacket pockets. Does he carry date rape drugs on his person?

“Hawks, I don’t wanna inconvenience you any more than I have.”

“I’m your fiancé,” said Hawks, actually looking you straight in the eyes and not breaking, “I want to take care of you.”

“Sure, in the way the mob takes care of people.”

Hawks’s mouth opened slightly, and his eyes narrowed.

Cover it up. “I’m not sorry. I don’t trust your cooking. You’ll poison my spaghetti!” You made a dumb gesture, pinching your fingers together. “Have you seen The Godfather? There’s actually a pretty legit spaghetti recipe in it; it’s not too bad, but it’s kind of watery—”

Hawks brought your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles and let his lips linger. “Watch it with me?”

You shook your head. “I’m too tired. I’m going to bed.”

“I’ll join you.”

“No,” you said, “My bed’s not made with your wings in mind.” Fuck off to your own little sex next, Hawks. Get out of here. “If they got hurt, it’d be my fault. Go sleep in your own bed, all right?” Go home. Get mugged on the way.

Hawks sighed, blowing his hair out of his eyes. “If you insist. But you’ve gotta reach out to me for anything you have trouble with, yeah? Memories, opening jars, orgasms, you know.”

“I’m leaving,” you said, reaching for your crutches, “Ten minutes ago.”

***

“You didn’t tell me how you proposed.”

Hawks froze mid-bite of his ramen, but after a quick beat, he slurped the rest of the noodle up. “I was hoping you’d recall that on your own, baby. Get your own feelings about it, instead of me telling you how to feel.”

If you weren’t faking amnesia, you’d fucking break his nose for that. Bastard.

“I imagine once you tell me, the feelings will rush in,” you said, clicking your chopsticks twice for emphasis, “I want to remember everything, and if I don’t, well, I want to fall in love with you again.”

Hawks’s gaze glazed over for an infinitesimal moment. Score.

“It’ll sound goofy once I describe it.” With his wings cramped against the back of the booth, Hawks scratched the back of his neck—a classic move for pretending to be embarrassed. “I’m not exactly known for being romantic.”

Yeah, he’s known for fooling around with anyone who’s glittery, like a goddamn crow. If you’re paying attention.

“Aw, but Hawks, you’ve been nothing but so effortlessly romantic to me since I’ve been convalescing,” you said, rolling up the paper wrapper of your straw and soaking it in the ring your cup left on the table.

“Right, well. I flew us out to the countryside, to this overlook halfway up a mountain. You liked going rappelling there a lot. To practise for missions.” Hawks had some of your habits down, at least. Bet he gets the location wrong, though. “We watched the sunrise. We shared a thermos of tea. I asked you once the sun had risen, but you didn’t say yes right away,” said Hawks, “You jumped off the overlook without your gear, and I caught you. You were furious about it—you didn’t want me to see you overwhelmed. But you said yes.”

Ugh. That sounded about right. That sounded pretty realistic. Hawks was a fucking stalker.

“Fuck,” you said, burying your face in your hands, “That’s cute.” You stretched the skin of your cheeks before releasing, and you returned to your ramen. “Question: did we put the ring into storage, or something? I don’t have the little indent on my ring finger from wearing a ring too long, and I haven’t found anything at home.” Make him sweat. Make him stumble. Where’s the ring, Hawks?

With a flash of his eyebrows, Hawks maneuvered his straw to his mouth using only his lips, looking quite stupid, in your opinion. “Figured you’d ask that at some point. I’m so overjoyed to see you every time that I forget to bring it up. The ring’s been sent off to a high-level, government-backed, support company. I’ve pulled in a favour from the higher-ups. I wanted to turn your ring into something a little more personal and incorporate one of my feathers into it,” said Hawks, taking a moment to slurp his drink noisily, “Depending on how well it goes, I’d be able to help you if we’re separated and know where you are. At the very least—” Hawks ducked his head to give the illusion of staring up at you with wide eyes, his blond eyelashes light against his skin. “—I’d be able to feel your heartbeat. It would bring me great comfort.”

Great, so he’d have a GPS on you at all times, knowing whether or not you went somewhere he didn’t want you to. He’d be able to tell if you went somewhere your non-amnesia self would know about. Great. Phenomenal.

“Hawks, that’s very sweet,” you said, fiddling with the remnants of your straw wrapper, now fizzled out of its snake shape, “Wouldn’t the process hurt you, though? Since you can feel it.”

“Nothing more than a twinge, sweetheart,” said Hawks, holding up his hands, “And I’d bear any amount of pain for your sake.”

You fantasised about beating his head in with the back end of a rifle.

***

When you were told Hawks was waiting for you outside of the recording booth, you told the messenger that Hawks could wait until you were finished with five more takes. You could picture Hawks’s little pout at the news, his feathers bristling despite the closed space, and resigning himself to sit in one of those clangy, metal chairs out front, having to hunch forward so that he didn’t crush his wings.

The idol group adored the ingenuity of bone-crunching as percussion in a song, and along with that and some other combat foley, you were singing the bridge with the rapper of the group (the dance captain would sing your part for live shows). It’d be a good promo for the girl group and for you, and the song, “Spine,” was going to be released as a single as soon as it was polished.

Hawks perked up the moment you stepped through the secondary door to the booth, his eyes brightening and wings spreading to take up more space. “I didn’t think I’d catch you,” said Hawks, standing to take your hands (the cold leather gloves sucked the heat out of your hands), “I’ve got to fly, soon, but I wanted to tell you personally.”

“You’re not pregnant,” you said, fighting the urge to break his goggles/visor/hat thing.

His lopsided grin widened. “Not yet, baby. There’s gonna be a heroes’ gala held at the end of the month, and I wanted to let you know that I’m doing everything in my power to make it a positive experience for you. Here, I’ve got this woman’s phone number,” he said, fishing a slip of paper out of his jacket, “She’ll help accommodate the venue for your leg.”

Stupid fucking bastard man. He probably wanted to pick out your clothes himself, infantilise you and dress you up like a goddamn doll. Deny you your personhood. “I’ll be out of the cast by then.” You slid the paper into your back pocket.

“I know,” Hawks said in a way that was a fucking lie, “I just don’t want there to be any accidents. I can’t have my babygirl any more hurt than she is.” Hawks placed his cold, gloved hand against your cheek, and you, shutting your eyes, made yourself lean into it. “But contact her. She’ll make it the safest place it can be for you, even when I have to leave your side.”

God, galas were great. Big events for villains to ruin. You licked your lips thinking about using a new move you’ve learnt to take a villain down (involving clamping your legs around the villain’s neck to choke him as he crumpled to the floor—your combat coach had banned you from the move after you made her pass out). “Are we announcing our engagement, then? If we’re going together?”

“I’d love to,” said Hawks, “but only if you want to. The ring could be ready by then, if I ask them to rush it—”

“Let’s do it.” If you plunged the ring into icy water, would he start to shiver? Ooh, your ring’s going to act as a fucking bay leaf in your soups for a while.

“Oh,” said Hawks, sighing lightly with his eyes fluttering shut. He pressed his forehead to yours and rubbed his thumb over your cheek. “You have no idea how much that means to me, sweetheart. You are so dear to me, and I want everyone to know it. The best damn thing in my life. Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, placing your hand on his face to push him away, “Don’t you have work to do, screw boy?”

***

“Did we have a date?” you asked from the edge of the bathtub.

Hawks dipped the razor in the water, washing off the hair and shaving cream. “We’ve gone on so many, darling; you’ll have to specify.”

“No, I meant for the wedding.” Let’s once again play: Can Hawks Cover His Own Ass?

Hawks dragged the razor down your freshly exfoliated, freshly-un-casted, freshly not-broken leg, starting at your knee. “Nope!”

“No explanation?”

“You wanna get married tomorrow? A six-month engagement is rather short, don’t you think?” His nose twitched. He’d said the scent of your shaving cream irritated his nose. Good.

“I don’t. Why didn’t we have a date for the wedding?” You eyed the actual and literal pile of your dead skin on the towel. Maybe you should make Hawks snort it.

“We were too busy working; you’d said you didn’t mind having a long engagement, so long as I was yours. Then, uh, you know. The accident,” Hawks said with a shrug—with his shoulders this time, because if he moved his wings while he was crouched in your bathtub, he’d soak them, and they were a bitch to dry, apparently. Suffer, you rat bastard.

“The commission isn’t involved in that decision?”

“I thought that was implied,” said Hawks, gripping your ankle to turn your calf to the side, “They don’t want it to be a huge spectacle, so even I don’t know how much of a wedding wedding they’d let us have.”

He’s too damn good at this. If he weren’t a pro-hero, he’d fit right along in a theatre troupe.

You’re going to wring his neck.

You caught him staring at the crotch of your underwear (bone-dry, you might add) while he shaved your thighs, and he spent more time rubbing lotion into your inner thighs than anywhere else. He tossed your dead skin before you could make him eat it, and he scooped you up against your protestations about your weight and capability, humming while he carried you to your bed.

The fucker tucked you in and rounded up your cat to place in your arms (your cat disagreed with him and promptly leapt off the bed).

“Let me stay with you,” said Hawks, kissing each of your fingertips. It’s an order.

Yet you shook your head.

***

“The doctors said you shouldn’t drink,” Hawks said under his breath, taking the champagne flute gently from your grasp.

“But I want to,” you said, sticking out your lower lip, “I’m wearing goddamn heels and a fucking dress. I’ve got on makeup, for Christ’s sake. I’ve done my time; let me drink.”

“Baby, you’ve got to stay safe,” he said, and he set the glass next to some 40s-level hero’s place at the long, white tablecloth. “There’s already press paying more attention to us than usual. You wanna make a fool of yourself?”

“Yes,” you said, lifting another champagne flute from a passing gala waiter, “Who gives a shit about the press.”

Hawks laughed too loudly to be natural before lowering his voice. “Baby, you are gonna be the death of me.”

“Promise?”

***

When “Spine” was released on a cool, spring morning to an excitable audience, you were lurking in alleyways by the docks, searching for a fight. When the music video dropped, you were smashing some guy’s face into a concrete wall. While more and more citizens recognised you and your talent, your work for the community, your connections, your popularity—with your rank steadily rising—you were rappelling down a port sewer to pummel a slime villain into dust.

You wiped his blood off on your pants, hands devoid of anything that could taint. You’d left the ring at home.

***

“You tricked me,” you said, scowling as Hawks pushed you forward, “This isn’t the rock climbing park.”

Once you deliberately smashed your face into the glass door and crossed your arms, Hawks held the door open for you. “Would you have dressed up so nicely for rock climbing?”

“A meta-game challenge,” you said, “to rock-climb in a long skirt.”

You glowered about the restaurant while you and Hawks stood in the lobby, his hand low on your back, suspiciously respectfully. You made no effort to hide your distaste: it was the place with the purple lights.

Over there at the absurdly long bar, Endeavor had drunk flat whisky without so much of a growl at anyone, despite it being his event. Hexagonal tables with lilac tablecloths dotted the floor—you’d hidden in one of the few booths, up against the exposed brick wall—but your hiding place had been ruined once a violet disco ball had emerged from the ceiling. Shiny, wooden floor that had reflected your post-panic attack face right back at you and let every shoe strike it with a clatter. No silence allowed.

The whole restaurant had lavender LED lights running around the walls, swathing the place in a distorted sort of purple haze, and any candles lit on the centre tables had indigo flames—you’d focused on how those might have been made in the process of coming down from your panic attack.

God. You’re going to throw up.

The hostess escorted you and Hawks to a farther back room, this one with booths separated by small, brick walls that didn’t reach the ceiling yet concealed the booths’ occupants from each other—unless you were passing directly in front of one.

Hawks made you sit in the booth first, trapping you in as he settled. He had to be on the edge, anyway, he told you, because of his wings. You’re going to rip them off and boil them in the soup.

The two of you ordered. You don’t remember what. You can only channel so much of your nerves into jostling your leg. This is not cool. This place is not cool. You need to get out.

“Hey, let me through,” you said, nudging Hawks, “Bathroom.”

Once there, you lightly slapped your cheeks a couple of times, trying to ground yourself through physical sensation. No use. Can’t they fucking use normal lights in this place?

You didn’t have your panic meds, because you’ve never needed them rock climbing. You can do it. You’re fine. You’re fine. Your tongue is too big for your mouth.

You took your time meandering back to the booth, coming to a halt at the end of the narrow hallway and ducking behind the corner.

Endeavor stood by your booth, his arms crossed over a flaming chest. You caught your breath at the sight of his orange fire, a comforting contrast to all the damn purple, but still—Endeavor. Talking to your (gag) fiancé.

Without the courage to interact with Endeavor, you listened at the corner for his departure.

“Nah, she can handle her bladder just fine. It’s her nerves,” Hawks was saying, hidden by the bricks, “She likes hiding. She doesn’t necessarily like being in the spotlight.”

“Yet she hasn’t completely withdrawn as Eraserhead has. You’ve picked a strange one to marry.”

From the angle Endeavor glared at him, Hawks must be slumping in his seat. “But that’s what so great about her. And it’s hard to process, y’know, like, she’s finally mine. You follow?”

“Regrettably,” said Endeavor, “Regardless, I offer my congratulations that your courtship finally worked out in your favour. You should have told me sooner.”

Courtship. That’s a funny way to pronounce bullying.

“Eh, I’ve gotta have some secrets, don’t I? Can’t betray my otherwise cool exterior.” Hawks laughed. “I can’t believe I’ve been allowed such happiness. The woman I’ve loved for years is gonna be waking up to me every day soon, y’know?”

Hawks has got to know you can hear him, otherwise he wouldn’t be saying those things. Endeavor must be in on Hawks’s ruse, since Endeavor is Hawks’s closest—actually, Endeavor isn’t the type to revel in romantic shit. Endeavor straight-up isn’t the type to revel. To the best of your knowledge, Endeavor doesn’t genuinely like Hawks as so much as tolerates him; when did they get so close? It must have taken a long time—

Time.

You could feel your IQ dropping as you actually considered: had you been in a legitimate coma? Had you (fuck) genuinely had amnesia?

No, no. You don’t live in Crazytown. Your eyebrows hadn’t been overgrown when you’d woken up in the hospital. You’d only been there a day.

Of course, Hawks is a vain piece of shit and does his own eyebrows, so he might have considered that yours were a piece of pride/insecurity for you and may have done them while you were—did Hawks do his own eyebrows? That spoiled fuck probably had someone else to do them for him. If they were naturally like that, you were going to throttle his ass.

You didn’t fucking have amnesia. Hawks is and always has been a stupid, clammy birdbrain. He’s always been cruel to you. He didn’t fucking like you.

He sure as hell wasn’t in fucking love with you.

Oh, my fuck, what if your memories of Hawks have been fabricated by a coma-addled mind and that—

“Hey, there,” said—said someone, some pale-ass, sleep-deprived freak who startled you out of your head, “Are you all right? You look—I mean, do you need some water? A chair?”

You blinked, yet he wouldn’t come into focus—you were taking in details about him, ones that didn’t fucking matter (chain on his wallet, three rings all on the left hand, a button-down missing the last button, a cloud of axe body spray), but he didn’t register as a human person. He couldn’t; you hadn’t grounded yourself yet. You yourself still had a frazzled, cartoon scribble buzzing inside of your chest, and until you vomited it up, a panic attack may yet still happen.

You can’t deal with anyone new right now.

A spark of recognition crossed the new guy’s face, and he, through a smirk, asked if you were your hero name.

Oh god oh fuck not now

“Sweetheart,” came Hawks’s melodious drawl (registering first his voice, then bodily warmth, then the wingtip covering your ass), “You were taking so long that I came to check on you.” He pulled you by the waist towards him, blocking the guy from seeing your face by pressing it into his chest. “Who’s this?”

Who cares. All you could focus on (sharp and overwhelming, nothing else but) was how fucking incredible Hawks smelled, and at this point, you’d use anything to bring yourself back down to earth. A small voice in the back of your head told you that freaking out to this degree in this particular situation was leaning towards pathetic, since basically nothing happened, besides being in an uncomfortable environment and being accosted by a fan at the wrong time, but you? You did not control the rate at which your brain panicked.

And really, no rhyme or reason played into why your grabby little hands itched for human contact once safe in the booth again, why Hawks’s scent lay on your tongue more heavily than your soup, why the overwhelming sensation of being so fucking spaced out of it threw its entire weight upon your shoulders—you couldn’t find yourself. You were lost.

And in this horrible, purple place, the only thing that’s familiar was Hawks.

When you scooted as closely as you could to him in the booth, keeping your glare towards your lap while you looped your arm under his to snuggle into it, Hawks cleared his throat to say, “What’s this?”

You scowled into his jacket, both hands gripping his forearm.

He set his chopsticks down. “How can I help, darling?”

Growling, you bonked your forehead against his shoulder, dragging your hands down to his.

“Hey,” said Hawks, and he guided your face towards his and stroked your cheek with his thumb, “Did that guy bother you too much before I got there?”

Turning your mouth towards the hand cupping your cheek, you kissed his palm, bit the leather, and kissed it again before burying yourself in his shoulder again.

He rested his hand on the crown of your head. “What’s the matter? Can you tell me?”

“Not sure I can put it into words,” you said, “I think I wanna go home.” You bit the fabric of his jacket and gnashed it between your teeth.

“I can handle that,” said Hawks, “Gimme a moment to get takeaway boxes, yeah? Then we’ll leave, and you’ll be safe. Don’t worry.”

Unfortunately, you were still clutching onto his arm by the time he unlocked his darkened penthouse (because you’re not gonna hold his hand. God), but you slapped his hand away from the light switches.

“Turning them on would be too much stimulation,” you said, “Please don’t.”

Hawks hummed against the top of your head, placing keys and both of your phones on the kitchen counter. “Bed or couch?”

“Window,” you said.

“Window?”

“I’m assuming you’ve got one.”

“I do,” said Hawks, guiding you through his dark apartment, probably past scarily expensive, posh shit. He led you to what was most likely his living room, with the cool, dim light of the night sky through a vast, single-frame, wall-to-floor window illuminating furniture custom built for his wings, but he eased you down onto the carpet, tugging your shirt upwards so that the window would be touching your bare skin on the small of your back.

Hawks yanked his boots off, late, instead of at the door, and he tossed them over his shoulder. He took yours off, too, and once he’d set them aside, he sat next to you against the window, a hand on your thigh.

“Better?”

“Probably,” you said, staring at the triangle of light beige carpet between your crossed legs.

“Need me to talk? You need to talk?”

“Not right now.”

Hawks was a dumbass. He’s such a fucking dumbass. But he’s a dumbass who’s here right now, and he’s interested (?) in you, interested in helping you. And good golly, you have to be touched. Hawks’s offering warmth, freely, potentially lovingly, and all you had to do was reach out to take it, even if you didn’t reciprocate whatever sentiment was motivating him yourself.

Do you really want to take what you have no feelings for?

Hawks lies a lot to Endeavor. To everyone. He might not have been lying earlier. What reason had he to lie?

Guess it didn’t matter, because you were lying.

But good God, you haven’t been kissed in a long time. Haven’t felt safe or loved. You could…you could indulge for a few hours in order to calm down. You could pretend.

The last ten months had proved that.

“Hey,” you said idly, reaching out to grab the inner fleece lining of his jacket to rub it between your fingers, “Hawks, I’m gonna—I’m gonna put my mouth on your mouth. Okay?”

Hawks’s wings ruffled and constricted themselves so that he could move closer to you, and his hand has migrated from your thigh to grip your hip—how could anyone’s hands encompass that much of you? Your fucking hands couldn’t, not in the way his does.

(Bird man big and safe.)

([No, fuck you, don’t think that.])

(BIRD MAN SAFE—)

Shoved is how you’d describe the first few seconds of the kiss, followed closely by wet and you’d think his teeth would be sharper. Your lips didn’t line up with his completely until he adjusted your chin with two of his fingers, guiding it open just barely, as well, so that his tongue could graze your teeth—it took you a moment of processing before parting them, with a final don’t think! shouted to your neocortex.

Birds have a higher body temperature than other animals, on average having a body temperature of 105 degrees Fahrenheit (40 degrees Celsius). The colour of their feathers, of course, affects how much light and heat they absorb, with the lighter coloured feathers—say, red—reflecting more, rejecting outside heat sources.

Yet Hawks gripped you like he’d fucking freeze if he weren’t clutching you, if he weren’t straddling your legs, one palm flat against the cool of the window by your head. The other snaked around you, his forearm lying almost vertically up your back to press down between your shoulder blades, keeping you as near to his chest (he probably didn’t realise it, but his fingers ran across the curve of your shoulder blades where his wings were on his own body.

For some reason, the thought crossed your mind that you weren’t enough for him, because you were too dissimilar.)

Don’t think!

When he massaged your tongue with his, applying pressure sporadically, you returned the action—have you ever seen a bird tongue up close? They’re fucking nasty little things, looking more like a grub than anything else. Thank God Hawks had a normal, human tongue that performed particularly delightful, normal things, like drag across the roof of your mouth and aid in sucking phenomenal hickeys onto your jawline, licking over where he’s bitten and kissed.

Stop thinking about bird anatomy. Hawks has no discernible bird traits except for his fucking wings. He’s not a fucking bird man. He’s just some dude with wings. And not all birds have functional wings; for example, the ostrich and the penguin do not have wings to be used in flight—

Oh, my fuck. Turn your brain off.

Your stomach lurched. That had been something Hawks had told you too often, back before your accident.

It’s what he wants.

Hawks fucking whimpered when you pulled the shorter hairs at the back of his neck, prying him away from your skin with great difficulty—he kept trying to touch you with his mouth and tongue in the process.

“Let me have more,” he said, panting, his breath heavy and just below your ear, “Please.” He pressed his lips to the spot in front of your ear in a weak kiss, having spent himself for the most part. “I’ve missed you so much, baby. I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me for so long.”

“I don’t—” You fake-stuttered, but it turned out you needed the time to put your thoughts into words. “I don’t think I’m back yet. I’m,” you said, taking as deep a breath as you could with Hawks smushed against your chest, “Something’s missing. Something big.” That’s right. Steer it back in his direction. Make the bird man sweat. “I don’t—something doesn’t feel right.”

It took a moment, but Hawks nodded fervently, shutting his eyes. “Of course. Yeah. Yeah, I get it, sweetheart. Can’t do anything when your heart’s not in it.”

Your heart’s not the problem. “Thank you for being so understanding, Hawks,” you said, untangling yourself from underneath him, “Would you just, uh, hold me for a while?”

His wings wrapped around the both of you on his enormous bed, still fluttering with each slow breath he took. Hawks almost looked genuine while he slept, and probably for the best—at least he was getting rest; at least his guard might be down.

You couldn’t sleep. Your mind was racing.

***

“Rank speculation is out,” you said, scrubbing the pumice stone over a patch of dry skin on Hawks’s back and scrolling through the twitter with your other hand, “Take a look.”

He opened the link you sent once he’d safely removed a dead feather that had been lodged in an odd spot in a wing. “Huh. Think I could truly take on Endeavor?”

“Well, he’s got that abusive-to-his-family thing, while you’re rocking the preparing-for-my-wedding look, and he can’t network non-aggressively to save his life.”

“Nor can you.” Hawks shot you a smirk over his shoulder.

“Zoom in on my speculated nine, baby,” you said, flicking away some dead skin with a satisfied/disgusted sneer, “And I didn’t have to sleep my way there.”

“Ah, ha, ha,” said Hawks, “Knew you could do it. Whoever’s told you that is gonna have to deal with my foot up their ass. You’re more than capable of getting there on your own.”

“Which I did. I have.” Wait. Hawks told you that. No, it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s a commonly said, misogynistic comment towards women heroes. Hawks isn’t special. “But having your foot up someone’s ass wouldn’t be good for PR, unless you wanted to advertise that you’re a kinky son of a bitch who’s cheating on his fiancée.”

“I would never,” said Hawks, and, contorting his arm, he grabbed your hand with the pumice stone to kiss the back of it, “But my PR is solid, regardless.”

“If the public knew how much time you had to spend preening these fucking wings, they’d probably appreciate you more. Or call you conceited.”

Hawks hummed. “It’s a necessary evil,” he said, returning to his wingtip to search for dead feathers. “Thank you for helping.”

“No problem. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t get to see how—Hawks, holy fuck. Do you feel that?” You ran a finger near the base of a wing.

“It’s your finger?”

“No, this,” you said, tapping the spot.

“No?”

“My God. It’s a dilated pore of a winer,” you said, already reaching for the tweezers, “Right at the base of your wing. It’s basically an enormous fucking blackhead. I’m popping it. Oh, my God. I’ve never seen one in real life.”

“You’re popping it?”

“You didn’t have a problem with my getting the ones where your costume sits.”

“No,” said Hawks, rolling back his shoulders, his wings spreading with them, “Gotcha. Get on with it.”

“Can I film it?”

“What? No,” said Hawks, “No one can see me preening, let alone dealing with acne.”

“There’s sure to be another hero out there with a wing quirk, right? I don’t know how you can’t feel it.”

“Yeah,” Hawks said slowly, “Since my feathers can feel—I suppose where the wings merge with my skin is pretty numb. I haven’t ever had to think about it.” He licked his lips. “Funny.”

He continued to scroll through his feed and tend to his feathers while you worked at his back. “Bad news: the tabloids got a hold of our grocery list from the last time we went to the shops. I must have dropped it at some point in the store.”

“Oh, so do they know what kind of ice cream we prefer? The horror.”

“No, but they’ve brought in some hack handwriting analyst. Talking about our annotations for each other on the list. Something about how you’re logical and I’m a romantic. The writer of the article is practically swooning.” Hawks pulled out a clot of feathers with his teeth and spat them aside. “With good reason, though. The trashy pictures they snapped of us are hot.”

“Describe them to me.”

“I can show you—”

“No,” you said, concentrating on your work, “I don’t want the image imprinted on my brain. Describe them in your own words.”

“All right,” said Hawks, crossing his legs and placing his phone on the coffee table in front of him, “To start, the flash is on.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah. We’ve got that distantly surprised look going on. It looks like we’re near the eggs and cheese. You’re not looking at the camera, but I believe it’s in the moment I caught it.” Hawks flicked away a feather and let it fall to the carpet. “My hand’s on your waist. The other’s on the cart. You’ve scrunched your face up in concentration; it’s really cute.”

“Aw, we should get it framed,” you said, wiping away the gunk with a tissue and wadding it up so that no one will ever have to see or touch it ever again.

“Never,” said Hawks, “The first picture of us I wanna get framed should be on our wedding day.”

“It’s coming along quickly,” you said, setting aside the tweezers, “Bit more quickly than I’d thought it would.”

“Yeah, I can’t wait,” said Hawks with a light laugh, and you ducked to rest your head against his shoulder, straining your neck to reach him over his wing.

Hawks clicked his non-nasty, non-bird tongue. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Sighing, you said, “Turn your head this way.”

He did you one better, since he anticipated your plan. He twisted around, keeping his legs crossed as he pulled you into his lap. His wings initially bristled but wrapped around you when his arms did, and Hawks kissed your cheek, once, twice, until he arrived at your mouth, where he barely grazed your lips, rather letting his hot breath spread over your face—and he grinned up at you with half-lidded eyes (he’d left off his eyeliner today, but the natural marks below his waterline kept his eyes sharp, anyway).

“Kiss me, you fucking idiot,” you said, overriding whatever he was about to do by kissing him yourself, hard and open-mouthed, almost violent in its fervent. Yet Hawks held you lightly, delicately, but still close enough to freeze.

You ran your cold, cold hands over his bare abdomen, pressing your thumb down with considerable force to trace his muscles (he grunted at that, and that’s it; that’s right—make him squirm; make him sweat; make him yours). His finger only toyed with the hem of his shirt that you were wearing, as if waiting for you, which didn’t line up with what you had garnered about Hawks at all, but c’mon, man, come on; didn’t you want this all those months ago? Almost a year, now? Years, if what he said to Endeavor is true? But when he flinched away with a shaky breath once your cold fingers circled his nipple, you knew this was where you were supposed to be: right here, in Hawks’s lap, completely destroying him with hardly anything at all. Nothing but light touches and a strategic flick of your tongue. Idiot man. He must really like you if this is doing it for him.

You slowed and opened your eyes at that thought, frowning, and you pulled away. With the back of his hand, Hawks wiped saliva off of both of your mouths, yours first.

He waited for you.

“If you can’t take all of me, then what’s the point?”

He tilted his head. “I’ll take whatever part of you you’re willing to share.”

“I’m missing something.”

“I know.”

“I want to find it before we get married.” You laid your palm flat on his chest, and he grinned at the cold.

“You can find it,” he said, “I know you can.”

“I don’t know what I’m blocking out,” you said, lying—or maybe you weren’t? Fuck it. “Whatever I’m repressing is really fucking with me.”

“Take your time,” said Hawks, running his tongue over his lower lip. “I’m here for—”

“Hawks,” you said, faking the light of realisation in your eyes, accompanied with a sharp inhale, “I can’t remember your name.”

Hawks’s mouth snapped shut.

“You told me once. I know you did,” you said, moving to cup his cheek after tapping the mark underneath his eye, “but the memory—there’s a blur where you spoke. I—” You cut yourself off, biting your lip. “That, that might be it. I don’t know. Everything else about the scene is in perfect detail. I remember what fucking socks I was wearing, for Christ’s sake. But you. What you said. Maybe it’s something so personal, so intimate, that I’ve repressed it. Maybe it was too much for me to handle.” You cupped his face with both hands now, forcing him to look at you. If you hadn’t been scrutinising him for some evidence of breaking character, you wouldn’t’ve seen the minute quivering of his upper lip. Hardly there, but it was there. “It’s a part of you that I want. Even if I couldn’t handle it before, I want to try now.”

Hawks averted his gaze, even though he couldn’t move his head. And bang, you’ve got him. Hawks’s name was still strictly secret, hidden by the commission, but if he’s genuinely in this dumbass situation for the long haul, if he’s truly in it for you, then he would have told you. Even if he wanted you to continue to call him Hawks, your own fiancé would have told you his damn name.

So, this is it. The way out.

Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out you’ve been faking all this time. Good. Let each feather burn.

“Keigo,” he said, staring into your eyes with a newfound determination, “My name is Takami Keigo.”

Oh, shit—you clapped a hand over your heart, your eyes widening. Maybe you could play this off as memory recovery instead of absolute shock? But you hadn’t any memories to recover, probably. Holy fuck.

Where do you go from here?

You tried to say his name but ended up simply mouthing it, and after clearing your throat and coughing a bit, you managed to say it aloud. “Keigo,” you said softly, reaching for his hand, “Keigo, I fucking love you.”

You’d only been kissing him for a few moments before his wings shuddered in a muscle spasm and flung you off to the side.

***

Only a commission higher-up witnessed your wedding. She stood silently to the side the entire ceremony in the courthouse and only shook Hawks’s hand afterwards.

You and your cat essentially moved into his penthouse and adjusted. Your mostly empty apartment stayed leased under your name.

Sometimes, you’d note that you turned your brain off and instantly be hit with a lightning strike of self-loathing—but you didn’t have to consciously decide to be affectionate with Hawks. Being with him came naturally and easily. Probably for the best, since if you had to think about it, you’d screw it up.

You stayed together. Supported each other. Sneaked out to see the other on patrol. Took care, listened to each other. Defended each other. Worked it out.

And now, you stared up at the ceiling fan whirling in your darkened bedroom, Keigo lying on his stomach next to you in the bed as he slept. Your cat catloafed between his wings and nestled into them, rising and falling with each breath he took. Hawks was perfect, always saving the day, working up a routine to mesh with your fighting style and quirk, always charming and easygoing with the people he rescued, indulging you in your ferocity, and Keigo, Keigo whispered sweet and dirty things into your ear when he spotted you in public, made you laugh, worked wonders with his cock, helped you clean up before he even thought of preening himself, held you, and made you feel held. He’s got it bad.

And maybe you do, too.

Hawks was going to feel so stupid when he found out.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

mango, m | jjk | 4

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: A love story between bad boy Jeon Jungkook and a strange girl with mango eating obsession.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; reader has knife scars on her legs (read 2 for explanation); smut (f-receiving oral, penetrative sex); there’s so much fluff you might die; non-idol!AU - university!AU; badboy!Jungkook x sociallyawkward!reader; Jungkook likes his ears being played with hehe

--

3.

-

You pulled away, breathless. Jungkook blinked rapidly, backing up a little.

“Do you, um… want to come in?”

You tilted your head curiously. Your eyes shifted down and Jungkook slid to the side, closing the door a little, glaring at you.

“Do not pay attention to him.”

You took a step in, clutching your bag tightly. “Why?”

He frowned and took a few steps back, letting you in the apartment. “He doesn’t know time and place.”

You shrugged. “Maybe he does and you don’t.”

Jungkook shot you a quizzical look but you dropped your bag, sliding out of your sneakers. He closed the door, watching you suspiciously as you inspected his furniture. He had a nice black fabric couch, black coffee table, a branded television. A dark blue and black rug.

“Aren’t you a virgin?”

You hummed. “Why would I be a virgin?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes and stalked over to you. “What fool touched you and left you? I’ll beat him up myself.”

You looed away from his knickknacks and blinked slowly. “Left me? It was only some guy from high school. I wondered what the fuss was all about, but it wasn’t very interesting.”

A muscle in his eyebrow twitched. “Was he drunk?”

You shook your head. “No, but we did it with clothes on, because…” You trailed off. “Anyway, I think we weren’t that interested in each other. We wanted to be able to say we did it, that’s all.” You looked Jungkook up and down, nodding to yourself. “But I think it will be better with you.”

He placed his arms over his chest. “Excuse me, I am not some object. I have feelings.”

“Oh.” You looked away, back to the snow globe on his shelf. You shook it and watched the fake snow swirl around. The base of the globe read ‘Malta.’

You felt Jungkook’s long fingers encase your arm and pull you to him. “Ah, that doesn’t mean ignore me. I meant it as a joke,” he pouted ruefully as your body pressed against his.

You pursed your lips. “You are very confusing.”

Jungkook puffed his cheeks. “No, I’m not.” He sighed, smiling. “We could sit down, watch a movie or something. I have Netflix.”

You pressed your thigh against his crotch and Jungkook hissed at you, jerking his hips away. But you had already felt it.

“Wouldn’t it be reasonable to take advantage of the situation?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you. “If I acted on every single hard-on I had, my life would be a lot more complicated.”

You pointed to your chest, jabbing it a little. “But what about me? I want it.”

His expression changed at your words. He chewed on his lower lip. You watched him, his long messy hair over his eyes. You reached up and tucked some behind his ear, clearing his face from the black curtain. He inhaled a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Dark brown orbs to yours.

“But you didn’t say I love you.”

You paused, hand lingering by his neck. He tried to hide his unease by smirking.

“Is that how it should be?” you inquired. “You can only have sex if you love them?”

“No, but I only want to have sex with you if you love me,” Jungkook replied, chuckling nervously.

His laughter died in his throat as your hand slid down. You stared at his pecs, pressing your palm against the left side of his chest. His heart beat fast against your skin, pulsating rapidly. You reached over with your other hand and took one of his, pressing it against your racing heart, beating in time with him. You lifted your head to his round, doe-like gaze.

“I confess, I don’t know what love is,” you murmured quietly. “But I think we’re on the same wavelength, so if you love me, then it must be love.”

You realized, with every smile Jungkook gave you, something inside you melted a little bit.

“You’re strangely romantic,” he remarked.

You let go of his hand and removed yours from his chest. “Should I just… yank off your pants or something?”

He laughed, richer this time, shaking his head. “You want me to be fully naked and you fully clothed?”

You shrugged. “No, I can get naked.”

“Wait, what–”

You grabbed the bottom of your sweatshirt and pulled it over your head, chucking it aside. Jungkook gawked at you as you reached for the zipper of your leather skirt, unzipping it and stepping out, kicking it away. Now you were in your black bra and black opaque tights. You gripped the top of your pantyhose and pushed it down. His hands suddenly shot out and grabbed yours, stopping you.

“You don’t…” He groped for words. “If you’re uncomfortable or something.”

You blinked at him. “You already saw my scars. Do you not want to see them?”

Jungkook released your hands, swallowing. “I want you to feel okay with not showing me, if that’s what you want. But your battle scars are really cool. I would be happy if you were comfortable enough to show me them again.”

You stared at him for a full thirty seconds. “If you love me like you say you do, you will end up seeing them anyway.” You cleared your throat, packing your nerves away. “I want to… normalize them when I’m around you.”

His brown eyes became indescribable, something between gratitude, relief, and happiness.

“Okay.”

You took a deep breath and pushed the stockings down your legs, taking your feet out of them. Staring down at your ugly knife scars, the memories that came with them, wondering when they would fade, wondering when you would look at them and see something else.

Jungkook knelt, fingertips extended to touch the lines. He traced each one with parted lips, sending sparks up your skin. Features racked with empathy. He pressed his fingers against his lips and then his fingers to your largest scars.

“I think they’re past being kissed better,” you muttered.

“My kisses are magic,” Jungkook answered. “They’ll make you feel beautiful.”

You laughed a little. “Are you sure?”

He stood up, arms slipping around your waist, smiling at you. “Never know unless you keep trying.”

You looked up at Jungkook, him and his mischievous smile, his tiny mole underneath his lower lip, his nose scrunch, his sparkling brown eyes, losing yourself in them and being okay with it, because this wasn’t anything like what you’ve known before. It was much nicer, much more heavenly as you got to your tiptoes and kissed him, arms around his neck. Pulling him close, whispering his name, relishing in the loveliness of his soft pink lips as he pulled you to him and walked you to his bedroom, sighing in satisfaction as you pressed your body against his harder, more muscular one.

“Damn, all that mango must be doing something right,” Jungkook murmured, running his hands down to your ass and squeezing it. “Eat more of it.”

You smiled against his lips. “Are you saying I’m fat?”

“I’m saying you’re juicy and I like it,” he teased, lowering you to the bed.

Your hand reached up and touched his wild hair. He stiffened a little as you ran your fingers through the long strands, dry now from your conversation.

“Why do you always slick your hair back at school?”

The side of his lips quirked upwards, somewhat regretfully. “It’s the hairstyle that gets me the most attention.”

You tilted your head. “It’s kind of nice like this, though.”

“I can’t see that well,” Jungkook laughed.

Your two hands collected his hair into a ponytail. “What about like this? With some in the front? I think I’ve seen this style before.”

How could someone have such a brilliant smile? “I trust you. You can do whatever you want with my hair.”

You brought his face down to yours, kissing Jungkook and that smile. Maybe one day you could smile like that. Maybe one day you could, but for now you settled for smiling into his kisses, fingers tangled in his hair, breathing into his mouth and making him moan. Your skin tingled at his noises, deepening the kisses, lacing your tongue with his. He nudged you up the bed and the two of you crawled back, laying against the sheets. You arched your back, brushing your chest against his and he groaned, teeth sinking into his lower lip.

“What do you want to do?” Jungkook murmured against your lips.

You kissed up his jaw, pushing his hair back. Your tongue traced his earlobe and he sucked in a tight breath, pushing you against him.

“I thought you liked it when I whispered in your ear?” you said softly, pressing your lips against his skin.

He swallowed, deep voice shaking. “Yeah, I do. A little too much.”

You nipped experimentally at his earlobe and he moaned, fingers pressing into your sides, clutching you tight.

“M-more…”

You took it into your mouth and swirled your tongue around his earrings, tugging lightly. He shivered, gasping your name, hands sliding up your back, his breath against your neck. Turning his earlobe in your mouth, sucking softly. Jungkook rolled his hips into your thigh and you felt his hardness. He began to rut against you as you played with his ear, kissing all the way up before nipping your way back down. It made his body shake and moans tumble from his lips.

You were suddenly hit with an epiphany.

“Is this why you always stared at my mouth?” you breathed. “When I was eating dried mango?”

Jungkook let out a trembling chuckle. “You c-caught me.”

“I just thought you were a pervert.”

“Maybe a little bit.” You pulled your head back and raised your eyebrows. Jungkook grinned. “Maybe a lot.” He nudged your chin with his nose, kissing down your neck, dipping his tongue between your collarbones. You reached back and unclasped your bra, sighing softly as the straps fell. His hands came up and cupped your breasts, strong fingers kneading you. Every breath on your skin igniting the fire, whimpering as he pressed his thumbs against your nipples and rubbed them in circles, making out with your cleavage.

“I thought about these tits way too much,” he mumbled. “You never wear anything tight up top.”

You gasped as he kissed your nipples, licking them lightly. “I was trying to… be more okay with my legs. Even if it’s just the shape.”

Jungkook’s large hands slid down your sides and hips, gripping your thighs. “Everything about your legs is fucking fantastic,” he growled hotly. He licked a stripe down your chest, flicking his eyes up to you, forming his words against your skin as he slid down. You felt your chest tighten, seeing his hunger, his want, feeling his palms against your thighs and calves, calluses against your scars.

“Your legs make me so damn horny I have to come up with strategies to hide my erections when I’m around you.”

You laughed a little. “They’re always covered up.”

One of his sculpted eyebrows raised. “Except I remember what they look like,” Jungkook mused, lips travelling down your thighs, running his hands up and down your skin making you breathless. “And maybe I like all the different socks you wear.”

“… Pantyhose?”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, ears turning pink. Jungkook kissed your legs all over and shivers danced up and down your spine as he paid attention to them, soft pecks and light touches. You reached down and gripped the sides of your black panties. His brown eyes shot up to you, squeezing your calf a little.

You smirked and he smirked back.

You pushed them down, gasping as cold air hit your wet warmth. Jungkook’s breathing stuttered, hands reaching down as you got to your thighs, taking them from you and pulling them down your legs, gasping as strings of your juices snapped against your skin.

“Can I eat you out?” he asked breathlessly as your panties were flung into the far side of his room.

You wondered if you would find them again. “I guess. Is it that nice for you?”

Jungkook gave you a surprised look. “Of course. You never had someone eat you out?”

You shrugged. “It wasn’t that special.”

He hummed, a slow smile forming on his lips. “Let me change your mind.”

His head dipped down between your legs. You tilted your head, breath cut short as he gripped your thighs, tipping them up, fingers pressed against your skin. And then your eyes widened as he placed his lips on your dripping slit, tongue licking you all over, moaning into your core. Your hands clutched the sheets, crying out as he thrust his tongue into you, curving it inside your pussy.

“A-ah, Jungkook…”

His brows furrowed, sliding his lips up a little. You moaned as he pressed the tip of his tongue to your clit. Sucking delicately, lapping at the sensitive bundle of nerves. It felt like pleasure was shooting up your body way too fast, like a time-lapsed video of a flower growing. You moaned, back arching and head tipping back as he worked you, one of your hands suddenly gripping his head, nail scratching his ear.

Jungkook whined, muffled by your pussy as he sucked harder, rougher, and somehow your hips were jutting into his face, unsure if it was just your involuntary shudders or your need to orgasm spurring you on, feeling your juices leak out from his lips and paint his cheeks, his intense dark eyes on yours.

You orgasm crashed into you, waves of pleasure torrenting through your chest. Your thighs threatened to snap shut, but Jungkook gripped them open, groaning as you filled his mouth with your taste, shifting down to you opening and sucking it all up. Your eyelids fluttered and your elbows slid out from under you, falling onto the bed with a flump.

Holy shit.

You were panting hard, unsure how Jungkook gave you such a powerful orgasm with his mouth. He licked you lazily and your hips shivered. Satisfied, he got to his knees, licking his lips clean.

“You have to warn me next time,” Jungkook pouted.

“Sorry, I… I wasn’t expecting it…” you wheezed out, pressing your lips together and letting out a long breath. Jungkook suddenly threw himself down on you, mouth to yours, filling your nose with your scent, tasting yourself as he inhaled your breath, moaning in his throat.

“Fuck…” he breathed, nipping at your lips. “Your breath is so fucking wonderful.” He shuddered as you panted into his lips. “You taste so good too, so fucking sweet. I’ve never tasted anything so delicious in my life.”

You chuckled. “Maybe it’s the mango.”

Jungkook kissed you repeatedly in while speaking. “Then I can’t risk it; I have to keep buying it for you.”

You smiled, gently pushing him off you, switching your positions. He blinked up at you, but you pressed his hand against his cheek, moving his head to one side, brushing back his hair, exposing his ear.

“W-wait–”

You bit his ear and his words died in his throat, turning into a moan as you nibbled. You lowered your body onto his, your softness against his muscles. His strong arms wrapped around you, gasping as your hard nipples rubbed against his chest and your lips encircle his earlobe.

“S-suck on it…” he pleaded; hands splayed across your back.

You did, playing with his earrings and Jungkook whined, nails digging into your back. You hummed approvingly and he scratched down your skin, shuddering and crying out. You kissed his ear and his hips bucked into you with a moan. He pushed his sweatpants down impatiently, freeing his hard cock so it rubbed against your thigh. You felt the pre-cum smear onto your skin as you whispered his name into his ear, making his eyes roll back into his head. His hand pressed his cock against your thigh and he began to hump you as you sucked on his ear again, whimpering.

“Please, please, please,” he begged. “More…”

You were breathing hard too, shallow and tight as you felt him rut against your hot skin. “But I want you to fuck me, Jungkook…”

His moan so deep and erotic that you felt your pussy clench with need.

“Okay,” he panted and you freed him from your grasp so he could reach over to the nightstand, fumbling for a condom.

“You really like your ears being played with, huh?” you wondered out loud, noticing how hard he was, the head of his cock a dark red.

His flush on his cheeks deepened. “Yeah, but I don’t like telling people, because I sound pathetic…”

You tilted your head. “I think it’s sexy.”

You saw the blush turn from pink to red. “T-thanks.”

His fingers scrambled with the condom and you took it from him, opening it carefully. You tried not to laugh, but Jungkook puffed his cheeks at you, noticing your contained expression immediately.

“It was only a compliment.”

He frowned and pursed his lips as he put the condom on. “It’s a compliment from you, the one I love.”

Your stomach did that weird floppy thing again. Jungkook shuffled over to you, taking your thighs and positioning himself between you. He looked up at you, chewing on his lower lip.

“Are you prepped enough? I could–”

“Jungkook, just put your cock in me,” you cut him off, smile on your lips.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, gasping as the head rubbed against your wet opening.

“You’re not going to hurt me. I’m tougher than you think.”

He grinned. “That’s true. Okay.”

You snaked your hand between your bodies, putting him into the correct position and he slid in slowly, his eyelids fluttering. Oh. Jungkook was bigger than you thought. Or perhaps you hadn’t had that many dicks in you or something. You sucked in a breath, trying to relax your muscles as he filled you up, leaning back and spreading your legs, chest quivering as he pressed his hips into yours.

“Oh fuck, you feel so fucking good.” His voice was unsteady, gripping your knees hard.

You tensed and tightened your core.

Jungkook yelped, snapping his head down at you. “H-hey!”

Your eyes shifted up to his face, letting the mischief show. “I heard Kegel exercises have many benefits.”

He shot you a pained look. “You’re trying to murder me.”

You pulsed around him again and he hissed, placing your legs on your shoulders and pressing down.

“Stop it or I’ll blow my load in three seconds,” Jungkook warned.

“Maybe two?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Let me enjoy your legs pressed against me as I pound your pussy, please.”

You sucked in part of your cheek. “Okay…”

Jungkook slid out a little and sank back in, making both of you moan. You clutched the sheets, breathing hard. He noticed your strained expression.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded. “Never had it this deep before. Keep going.”

He began a slow, deep pace, radiating pleasure all over you. You weren’t aware it was possible to feel this much, your skin prickling with lust, his hips slapping against yours, the feeling in your chest swelling so much that your almost couldn’t breathe. Your gaze locked with his and the way Jungkook was looking at you, like he couldn’t help himself, like he was becoming lost in you, like he wanted all your days and all your nights, taking your breath away because you wanted that too. His curly long hair hung down, pupils blown wide with lust, jaw clenched as he increased his pace, your moans deepening at the sensation.

“You’re so handsome,” you panted between gasps.

Jungkook grinned. “You’re prettier.”

You smiled and his expression softened. “I love it when you smile at me.”

You chuckled awkwardly, tapping his arm. “Faster and harder, please.”

He smacked his hips into yours, earning a pleased gasp and a clenching of your pussy. Jungkook gritted his teeth, fucking your hard and fast like you asked, feeling it build inside you, pushing you to the precipice. You bit your lip, whining, Jungkook so strong and gentle over you, but also giving you what you wanted, watching your face the entire time. You squeezed his cock and he groaned your name.

“Cum for me,” he whispered. “Cum for me and I’ll cum for you.”

Your fingers found his arms, clutching his tense muscles, his tattoos peeking out from your grasp. There was a sharp tautness inside you, so close, so close, and his piercing brown eyes drowning you and, soon enough, the words came, tumbling out of your mouth in wispy gasps.

“J-Jungkook… fuck, I love you so fucking much and I’m going to cum, fuck.”

You threw your head back, moaning his name again as you came, pussy spasming and throbbing around him. Jungkook hissed above you, slamming into your hips one last time, cock jerking against your walls as he followed suit, your orgasm massaging his out, spilling into the condom. You could feel his cock pulsate inside you. He whimpered your name softly, pushing his hips into you a little. You exhaled, legs slipping from his now sweat-covered shoulders.

Jungkook reached down and pulled out gingerly, holding the condom in place.

“Finally got to hear you say I love you,” he chuckled.

You laughed, pressing your head back into his pillows.

“Guess I just needed you to stuff me with your cock.”

Jungkook poked you, pouting. The mole underneath his lower lip winked at you. “I want to hear it normally too.”

You sat up, looking into his eyes. His dark chocolate eyes that stared at you the first time, the eyes that took in every detail about you, the eyes that slowly began to know you and would continue to know you because now you knew there was another feeling that wasn’t nothing, another emotion that wasn’t apathy.

You placed your hand on his cheek, pushing back his long, dark hair, smiling at him.

“I love you, Jeon Jungkook.”

-

“What do you think?”

Jeon Jungkook took the small compact mirror from your hand, inspecting your work.

“Looks kind of funny,” he chuckled. “But I like it.”

He had showed up to Chemistry lecture early, long dark hair brushed but undone. No gel this time. He had sat down in front of you, black leather jacket creaking, folding his jean-clad legs under him. You had arrived with a black hair tie and black nails with tiny pink flowers on them. Combed your fingers through his hair and collected it into a ponytail, revealing his clean undercut. A few strands framed his face, accenting his high cheekbones.

“You wanna be my barber?” he teased, looking up at you.

You shook your head. “I don’t know how to cut hair.”

Jungkook stood up. “That’s okay. You can learn. Then I can spend more time with you and remember you every time I look in the mirror.”

You looked at your nails, remembering Hoseok’s smile as he painted them.

“I guess I would have to look up some YouTube videos.”

-

fin. haircut drabble. 2021.09.01 - birthday drabble

--

masterpost

[karlsjackbox]

the end. | irl!quackity x gn!reader

A VIEW OF two people falling out of love.

type: angst

warnings: taking pills (brief, not much context), swearing, fight, death threat

w/c: 1.6k

quackity pushed his hair out of his face, fingers placing themselves in a rhythm on the keyboard. music played through his headphones, placed on the second to last volume to help soothe his aching headache. eyes traveling to the corner of the screen, his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of it being 4:57am. rubbing his eyes, he leaned back and let out a sigh. saving the document he was writing on, quackity shut off the monitor and shuffled his feet.

the door across the room opened. snapping his eyes forward, quackity was met with his s/o holding their cat, tired smile adorning their face. quackity mirrored the smile, pushing himself off of the chair and standing beside his love. “you’re awake late.” he muttered, though his words slurred together. y/n looked at him with a lopsided grin, pressing a short kiss to his lips. “couldn’t sleep without you.” quackity gasped, using his hands to cover tiger’s eyes.

the paired laughed, dragging themselves to the bedroom.

it had been a few weeks. y/n’s eyes forced themselves open, bed empty beside them. quackity was laughing down the hallway, having to ignored the text from y/n asking him to tone down just a little. rubbing their eyes, y/n sat up and tapped on their phone. 4:23 am. muttering a curse to themself, they laid back down. shutting their eyes, y/n eventually fell asleep to the sound of their boyfriends muffled laughter and curses.

quackity ended the stream near 5am. he leaned back with a sigh, rubbing his face as the discord call eventually dropped. grabbing his phone, he check notifications and read the text from y/n with a frown. he texted a quick sorry ! just saw this :( coming to bed now <3. with no text back, he pushed himself off of the chair and shuffled his way to the bedroom. tiger rubbed against his leg, the mexican biting a smile back. y/n laid curled up, body facing the wall as they snored quietly. 

quackity shuffled out of his day clothes, sliding into pajamas as he laid beside y/n and fell asleep.

y/n danced around the kitchen, music playing quietly through their phone as they made their breakfast. they hummed along, carefully pouring their cereal into their bowl. scratching their chin, they turned at the noise of somebody behind them. quackity stood in the doorway, hair messed up from sleep. “hi, my love.” y/n greeted.

taking a minute to answer, quackity shut off his phone and sighed. “good morning.” he sat down at the table, rubbing his eyes. “whats up?” y/n asked, pouring their milk and grabbing a spoon from the drawer. they sat across from quackity, who had picked up his phone as it buzzed. 

“tommy wants me to record today and george wants me on his stream. i’m trying to make them both work and i just don’t know if i can.” quackity explained, using his hand for more emphasize. y/n swallowed the cereal before answering, crossing their legs at the ankle. “i think you need a day off.” they huffed, eyes rolling. “i wish.” quackity responded, standing to make his own cereal.

“i’m serious. we haven’t spent time together in forever.” y/n shrugged, getting no response. “i can try for soon, but definitely not today.” quackity kissed y/n’s temple before he sat across from them again.

quackity didn’t talk to y/n until the next afternoon.

y/n sat on the couch, holding a mug of hot cocoa. their legs were crossed, eye trained to the television screen as rapunzel played. they hummed along to the songs, turning at the sound of footsteps. quackity held his phone to his ear, laughing at something somebody said.

y/n smiled at him and gave a short wave, quackity repeating the wave and making his way into the kitchen. the refrigerator door opened and closed, y/n turning their head and resuming the movie. 

quackity took out the strawberry container from the fridge and made his way into the living room, standing at the doorway as he listened to karl talk. eventually he tossed the container away, finishing the strawberries and going back upstairs to his recording room.

by the time the movie finished, the sun was barely kissing the horizon. turning spotify on through the tv, music started to play through the playlist, ‘y/n & quackity!!’. y/n smiled at the memory of them sitting together and making the playlist on their second date.

making their way into the kitchen, y/n opened the cabinet and pulled out the pasta noodles. pulling out a pot and filling it with water, they began to boil it and dump in the noodles. their phone gave a simple ding! and another notification came through.

alex<3: can u plz turn music down? streaming soon x

y/n frowned, though gave a simple thumbs up. they tapped the spoon on the side of the bowl and left it to drip, entering the living room and shutting of the tv in a whole. tiger sat on the couch, head peeking up with a quiet ‘mrrp?’ as the noise suddenly ended. cooing, y/n walked over and scooped him up, cradling him as they made their way into the kitchen again to stir the pasta.

setting tiger down on the floor after 15 minutes, y/n scooped the pasta into two seperate bowls and ran butter through them. deciding against sauce, y/n placed the bowls on the table and texted quackity.

you: made pasta !! <3

the food was still untouched by the next morning.

it had been a while since then. y/n woke up before quackity. they were faced with his back, black sweatshirt hugging his body. they sat up slowly, sun fading through the curtains and hitting the blanket. they shivered a little, blinking hard a few times to try and wake themselves up. after a few more moments, they pulled their legs out from underneath the blanket and carefully moved away from quackity and out of the room.

quackity woke up an hour or so later, groaning softly as the sun had now positioned itself to hit his eyes directly. he sat up, head turning to look at y/n. frowning as nobody was there, he picked up his phone and drug himself out of the room. the house was empty as he searched around for his s/o, frown adorning his face.

standing in front of the fridge, a sticky note hung to it.

quackity ripped off the sticky note, crumbling it in his pocket as he opened the fridge to search for his breakfast.

y/n returned home that night to the noise of muffled swears and laughter, though y/n wore mainly a frown. their bones ached and a headache roared. sighing, they dropped their bag and kicked off their shoes and made their way into the bathroom. they opened the medicine cabinet and took out tylenol, swallowing the pill with sink water in their mouth.

rubbing their nose, y/n made their way upstairs to their bedroom. they grabbed clean clothes and made their way into the bathroom, turning on the shower and letting the water run until it was hot. they stripped and dropped their clothes onto the floor, pushing them into the corner before stepping into the shower. y/n couldn’t help the sigh that escaped their mouth as everything from the day washed away, lathering their hair with shampoo and conditioner.

quackity ended the stream around the same time that y/n stepped out of the shower. he sat at his desk for a moment longer, chatter with his friends slowly dying down. “hey guys, i’m gonna head off now.” after a wave of goodbyes, he left the discord call and stood up.

quackity made his way into the bedroom, y/n sat on the edge of the bed. sliding off his beanie, quackity ruffled his hair and let himself fall beside his s/o. they didn’t talk, y/n texting somebody before shutting off their phone. they let out a sigh and rubbed their face, tossing their phone beside them.

curling up, y/n and quackity fell asleep facing each other for the last time.

they woke up at the same time. y/n sat up and rubbed their eyes, yawn falling from their mouth. there was a tension in the room quackity couldn’t figure out. “hey, wanna watch a movie?” y/n asked, scratching their nose as they met eyes with their sleepy boyfriend. “mm.. i can’t. i have homework and i have to be on a stream,” quackity slurred, missing how y/n’s eyebrows furrowed. tsking, y/n stood. “right.”

quackity’s head shot up at their tone. “what do you mean?” he questioned, choosing to stay silent on their eye roll. “you haven’t spent time with me in ages. i’m shocked i even fell asleep with you beside me.” the younger shrugged, opening their closet to pull out a sweatshirt.

“yeah, because its my job? the fuck do you mean?” quackity sat up, leaning his weight on his hands. “okay? you can still make time for me. i’m not just somebody who feeds you, alex.” y/n turned to meet his eyes, hands resting on their hips. “i can handle myself, you know.” quackity rolled his eyes.

“i wanna see you fucking try.”  y/n looked the older up and down. “you just mooch off of me anyway. if you’re so pissy about me working then leave.” quackity seethed, anger radiating off of me. he froze as the words fell out of his mouth, y/n’s hands dropping. “i hope you fucking starve. waste of space.” y/n cursed, turning and grabbing their bag from the closet.

“y/n, i didn’t-- we didn’t mean that.” quackity apologized, stepping towards the younger. y/n stayed silent, shoving random clothes into their backpack. quackity didn’t try to fight them, standing and watching them pack with tears brimming his eyes.

“..is it the end for us?” it was silent. the silence pushed against quackity’s skull, taunting him in a way he would remember forever. y/n turned, face blank as their eyes were puffy.

“it was the end a long time ago.”

[eggtoasties]

Pairing: Miya Atsumu X Reader

Rating + Notes: T: mentions of swearing, nausea, vomit but FLUFF

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: After getting his wisdom teeth removed, the score is: Miya Atsumu: 0, Miya Osamu: 2

“Remember when ya’ almost threw up in m’ car?” Atsumu asks from the passenger seat, lowering the volume of the music and grinning.

“God, shut up. I thought you promised not to bring that up again,” she huffs, eyes focused on the road.

“Well anyways,” he says sunnily, sticking his hand out the open window, “I won’t need this.” He kicks at the plastic bag she brought for emergencies. “When Samu got his wisdom teeth out a few years back, he was high for like, two hours then jus’ passed out for 10 hours. An’ besides ya’ almost yakking in my car,” he looks at her over his sunglasses, “ya’ also just slept. So, this is gonna be easy breezy,” he sing songs, kicking his feet up on the dash.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says, “you’re already such a handful, you better be well behaved.”

Waiting in the lobby together, Atsumu absentmindedly thumbs through a gossip magazine and peers over her shoulder at her phone.

“If I act all loopy, will ya’ video me so I can show the team?” resting his chin on her shoulder.

“You better not, I have to drive us back. And besides,” she says, turning her head towards him, “thought you said this’ll be easy breezy?”

Atsumu throws a cocky grin and rests his hands behind his head, sprawling in his seat. “Yeah, yer right babe.”

Getting called in from the lobby, Atsumu stands up. He hands her his phone and throws her a wink. She rolls her eyes but shouts after him.

“Good luck!”

.

After forty minutes, Atsumu is escorted back into the lobby with two dental assistants next to him.

“He’s pretty lucid after the surgery, so you’re free to take him home,” the one in green scrubs says. “Here’s a pamphlet on what he can and can’t do, eat, and drink and here’s gauze,” he finishes, handing the items to her.

“How’re you holding up, Miya-san?” the assistant in blue scrubs asks.

Atsumu has a dazed expression on his face, lids half dropping—almost reminiscent of his twin. Looking between the two assistants holding his shoulders, his eyes finally registered who was in front of him.

“Oi, yer real pretty,” he drawls, head tilting to one side.

Trying not to let the heat rise to her face, she turns her head ignoring the amused glances from the dental assistants.

“We’ll help him to your car,” one of them says.

Thankfully, Atsumu was compliant and walks relatively steadily to the passenger’s side. Strapping him in the assistants reminds her to call if any problems arise. Thanking them one last time she gets into her seat for the journey home.

“Hey,” she says softly, getting Atsumu’s attention, “how do you feel?”

He was resting the crown of his head on the head rest, chin jutting up towards the roof. Turning his head, he looks down at her with a bleary expression.

“’M fine, tol’ ya’ easy breezy,” he replies with a mouthful of gauze. “Lets g’ home an’ sleep,” drawing out the last word with a whine.

Chuckling, she puts the car in drive and heads home.

.

Turns out, Atsumu wasn’t the one who needed luck. She did. Twenty minutes into the ride, Atsumu taps into some drug induced energy. Writhing in his seat, trying to take out the gauze in his mouth, and repeatedly screaming that the doctors had stolen his tongue, she is at her wits end.

On the car ride to the appointment Atsumu had been going on about how since he and Samu had the same genes, it was only natural that he had the same subdued reaction to the anesthesia.

She questioned how true that was when his wisdom teeth didn’t grow until recent, years after Samu, to which he replied, “’M no geneticist, babe.”

Twenty minutes into the car ride with ten minutes to go, she whips her phone out at a red light and hits Video Call. Hearing, rather than seeing Osamu’s confused state, she shoves the phone in Atsumu’s hands, similar to an exasperated mother with a small child.

“Osamu. He’s a mess, do something about it,” she bites out, hitting the gas at the green light.

At her words Atsumu lets out an indignant screech and through the gauze he mutters, “Pretty ladies shouldn’t be so mean to the injured.”

“What am I supposed ta’ do with the idiot,” Osamu complains from the phone.

“I don’t know make him stop moving!”

From the corner of her eye she sees her boyfriend hunch over her phone and hold it extremely close to his face.

Squinting, he asks, “Why’re ya’ so ugly?”

A string of explicative comes pouring out her phone and Atsumu cackles, toppling over towards the middle console.

Clenching the wheel with two hands and taking a deep grounding breath, she repeats to herself like a mantra, five more minutes.

.

Finally pulling into the parking garage of their apartment complex, she was ready to pour herself a large glass of wine.

Atsumu and Osamu were still yelling, throwing playground insults about the other’s looks. She figures Atsumu’s claims about being the smarter twin has to be a lie and briefly rests her forehead on the steering wheel, summoning the strength to get her boyfriend to their apartment.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, she catches Atsumu frowning and fixating out the window, ignoring Osamu. She leans over to unbuckle his belt and jumps in her seat when his shoulders and neck lurch forward. She lunges for the plastic bag and holds it under his mouth swearing.

“’Tsumu do you think you’re gonna puke or can you make it to the apartment?” she asks, praying it was just a bout of nausea.

“Yeah ‘mfine, ‘mfi—”

She lets out a screech as he throws up into the grocery bag and clamps down on her own gag reflex. After a minute, Atsumu throws his head back into the head rest and looks at her with spit dripping down the side of his lip.

“The gauze left me.”

“Yes,” she responds gingerly, tying the bag carefully. “I see that.”

Leaving the car as fast as possible to throw the bag away, she catches Osamu howling through the phone.

“Ya’ absolute scrub,” he chokes out between heaving breaths.

.

Hours later after rinsing out Atsumu’s mouth, shoving gauze back in without getting her fingers bitten, and forcing him in bed, he blearily comes out of the bedroom into the living room.

Nursing a glass of wine and watching some reality program she peers at him over the rim.

“Well,” she asks, “are you done?”

Stepping carefully towards her, he sits next to her with his hands in his lap.

Cheeks swollen he mutters, “’M sorry.”

She hums and swirls her stem. She’s not angry, but seeing Atsumu puffy and shy is filling her with an unbridled amount of glee. Leaning her head on his shoulder and noticing how he melts into her, he presses a kiss into her hair.

“Thank ya’ for takin’ care of me,” he whispers.

Before she can respond, their phones vibrate. Both getting a message from Osamu, they share a concerned glance before tapping at the message.

It’s a shaky video of Atsumu. The angle is low and unflattering and Atsumu’s staring out into the distance until he gags and a plastic bag obscures his face from view.

Atsumu stares at his phone in disbelief as text bubbles pops up.

From Osamu: HAHA u ugly SCRUB

From Osamu: sent this to ur whole team too better give your girl some apology flowers LOSER

Groaning, Atsumu buries his head into her lap as she laughs. Shoulder shaking, she cards a hand through his hair.

“I’ll get ya’ yer favorite,” he mumbles.

Leaning towards his head, she kisses his temple and scratches his scalp. Her lips ghost the shell of his ear and she whispers, “Pick up dinner too.”

[pandawithawand]

Grian, The Single Dragon Dad Au

Inspired by this art

It was 4:23 am when Grian was woken up by loud wailing. He tumbled out of bed, very confused; since when where was there a baby in Boatem?

 He squinted into the darkness of the Midnight Alley, straining for the source of the sound. Was it coming from outside? Yes, it was coming from outside.

Grian got up unsteadily, and made his way to the opening of his base. Once he’d reached entrance, he stepped on something. It crunched very suddenly under his boots, causing him to jump. he bent down to see what it was, and picked up a shard of black eggshell. It was thicker then a birds egg and had strange purple flecks in it. It has the same texture as sandpaper and was slightly warm.

It was part of the dragon egg.

Grian paled. The egg had hatched. That had to be the only reason part of it was outside his base. That meant a baby dragon was somewhere loose in Boatem. And since Grian had been the one to kill it’s mother, Grian was the one responsible for it.

                                                          ~*~

After following the trail of eggshell to the corner between his and Pearl’s base, Grian found the hatchling, cowering and wailing like a kicked puppy. However, the moment it saw Grian, it stopped. And just stared at him.

 Large purple eyes staring into brown eyes. 

Dragon slayer and dragon suspended in time for just a second.

And then the dragon giggled. A small babyish giggle. It blinked, giggled and bounded over to Grian, bumping into his knees, unbalancing him. He fell onto his bottom and the dragon crawled into his lap. It smiled up at Grian and that’s when he knew...

He’d just become a single dad.

                                                         ~*~

At 8:30 on the same day, Scar landed in the Midnight Alley and loudly proclaimed his arrival to the world,

“Ooh~ Grian! It is I! Your favourite builder,” He strode deeper into the base and started looking around, “I’m here to build your base for you. Hello? Grian? Where are yo- WOAH!!”

Something ran into Scar’s legs, knocking him to the floor. He looked on in shock as a small, black dragon ran towards the marble bank at the end of the alley.

“What on earth...” Scar slowly got back his feet, picking up his crutch, which had been flung from his hands. He shuffled a bit closer, causing the dragon to look up, “Hello little one! What are you doing here?”

The hatchling toddled over to Scar, sniffed his outstretched hand and chirped.

“Oh my goodness, you are the cutest thing I've seen. Why are you in Grian’s base?” Scar scratched under the creatures chin, “Are you lost?”

“Tegg? Tegg, where’ve you gone?” A voice cut through the air, causing the dragon to look up. It bounded away from Scar and towards the entrance where a tired, slightly dishevelled Grian had just landed.

“Oh, there you are Tegg!” The short man bent down and scooped the dragon up, “You shouldn’t run of like that! You’ll get lost.” 

“Um, Grian?” 

“ARGH!” Grian screamed, fell over, got jumped by the dragon and lay down to except his fate as a dragon bed, “Scar you scared me. You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

“Yeah, sorry about that Grian, why is there a dragon in Boatem?”

“Ah yeah, about that,” The avian shoved the hatchling of his chest and sat up, “The Tegg hatched.”

“The Tegg hatched...” Scar echoed,

“Yes, the Tegg hatched.”

“How.”

“I have no idea.”

A silence filled the Midnight Alley. Grian spoke first, “You know, that sounded a lot better in my head. It wasn’t very helpful, was it.” The salesman laughed at that, and agreed with an exaggerated nod.

“So... What do you do now?” Scar looked down at his friend, genuine curiosity in his voice.

“Well, care for it I suppose.”

“Oh, this will be fun to watch!”

                                                          ~*~

Oh boy, this took me so long to write. I was halfway through, and my motivation just went poof. So this has just been sitting in an open tab for like, 6 weeks. Anyway, I love this Au, it’s so cute, and I hope you enjoy!

                                                          ~*~

[bangtaninink]

‘cause i’ve been aimin’ for heaven above

read sanctuary and when night falls i am your escape for @athenakyle

You let out a quiet sigh, cheek resting atop your fist as you flip through the pile of paper on your desk. A curt knock on the door pulls you out of your thoughts, and you straighten up to see your secretary in the doorway, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

“Yeah?”

“You have a visitor,” Jinah says, biting the inside of her cheek to hold back a grin.

“Is it my brother?” you groan, shaking your head. “I’m not available.”

“Nope. Even better than that hottie.”

“Please don’t talk about my brother like t—”

“‘Sup, gorgeous?” Jeongguk says, poking his head in through the doorway, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh. Well, I take it back. Talk about him however you want; he’s only my step brother anyway.”

“Can I get you guys anythi—” Jinah starts, raising a hand.

“We’re good, thank you,” you say, rolling your eyes as you pull Jeongguk into your office while shutting the door behind him, jerking your head to silently signal to your secretary to leave.

“I brought lunch,” Jeongguk announces, holding up a grease-stained paper bag with a grin. “I hope you’re in the mood for burgers and curly fri— oh shit. Are you still on that diet? Fuck.”

“It’s fine.” You shake your head and chuckle, taking the bag and walking to the small sofa set against one wall of your office. “I finally lost those five pounds I’ve been trying to shed for months.”

“I hope that didn’t come from your boobs or ass.” Jeongguk pulls off his jacket, dropping it on one arm of the sofa before sitting down next to you, humming at how soft the cushions are. “I mean, I’ll still fuck you, but you know… less to grab.”

“Always a charmer, Jeon. Thank you for accepting me in all my shapes and sizes.”

He hands you your burger with a wink.

                                                       〰️

The small gasp that leaves your lips quickly turns into a quiet moan, hand gripping the pillow behind your head tightly as Jeongguk wraps his lips around your nipple, your back arching off the sofa. 

“Mmm, good to see — and feel — that these are still intact,” he says, grinning up at you. “Oh wait.” You huff out disbelieving laughter when you feel his hand curl around your waist, reaching down to grab your ass, giving it a light squeeze. “Yep. All good. Nice work on the diet, sweet cheeks. Not that I think you needed it, but if it made you happy, I support it.”

“I appreciate that, babe, but I’d appreciate it more if you finished what you started, thank you.”

“Oh, well since you asked so nicely…”

Grin never faltering, Jeongguk sits up against the cushions, pulling you up to sit on his lap, kicking away the paper bag full of burger wrappers and an empty cardboard box where mere crumbs of what used to be fried potato now lay. Dress bunched up around your waist, he groans when you roll your hips on his lap, thin cotton and lace the only things separating you both. 

“Your secretary’s pretty,” Jeongguk says, grabbing handfuls of your ass with a satisfied moan as he gently sucks on the sensitive skin of your neck, careful not to leave a mark. 

“Thought you didn’t mess with married women,” you chuckle, fingers tangling in his newly dyed silver hair. 

“Oh shit. She’s married? Never mind then.”

“I’m surprised you’re looking at other women in the first place.” A little breathless, Jeongguk lifts his head to look at you, eyebrow raised. “Thought you and Hana were ready to take it to the next level.”

“Oh, fuck you,” he groans, hiding his face in your chest and pinching your ass lightly when you start to laugh. “Don’t bring her up when you’re practically naked in my lap.”

You gasp and lean back, crossing your hands over your chest to cover yourself. 

“Don’t tell me you think of her when you’re sleeping with me! Jeon Jeongguk, you jerk!”

“You’re such a boner killer, you know that?” Jeongguk says, trying to sound annoyed; the laughter in his voice gives him away. 

“Hmm… didn’t seem that way last Tuesday… or the day before that, and the day before that, and the—”

A short knock at your office door interrupts you mid-sentence, and you throw your head back with a groan. 

“Fuck my life,” you mutter, climbing off Jeongguk’s lap to start fixing your dress. “Raincheck?”

“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Jeongguk sighs, lifting his hips off the sofa to zip up his jeans. “Can’t believe I’m gonna be blue-balled when I brought you curly fries.”

Snorting, you throw your panties at him, letting them land on his bare chest as you smooth out your dress and open your office door. 

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jinah says, clutching a binder folder close to her chest as she steps into your office with wary steps. You hold back an amused smile, watching as she tries very hard not to look in Jeongguk’s direction where he’s still shirtless, your underwear still on his chest, and scrolling through his phone. “Um…”

“Yes, Jinah? Something important?” you ask, eyebrow cocked. 

“R-right. These are some other forms you need to sign, and, um… that conference call is starting in twenty minutes.”

“Cool. Is that all?”

“Um. Y-yeah?”

“Are you not sure?”

“No, yes! T-that’s all.”

“Okie dokie. Thank you.”

You laugh and nudge Jinah to walk backwards, watching as her feet seem to move on her own accord, despite the way she gulps, eyes wandering over to Jeongguk eventually, who looks up from his phone to give her a little wave goodbye. 

“Uh, Jinah?”

“Yeah?” Jinah replies, quickly and loudly.

“The forms?” you ask, holding your hand out for the binder. 

Your secretary damn near throws the folder at you, rushing back to her desk.

“I think you may have a new admirer,” you say, walking back to your desk, setting the binder folder down on the pile of paperwork you’d abandoned earlier. “Hana’s gonna be so devastated.”

“Please,” Jeongguk groans, pocketing his phone before reaching down to grab his shirt. “I’d rather your married secretary than Miss Borderline-Stalker.”

“Dramatic. Hana seemed nice enough that night we all had dinner.”

“One time, Hoseok hyung did a little experiment to see how far her creepiness—”

“You mean, ‘admiration’, right?”

“Hah. Sure. How far her admiration—” You shake your head and laugh at the way Jeongguk curls his ringed fingers in air quotes. “...goes. You know she’d think I’m still cute if I murdered a small village out of sheer boredom.”

“Aww,” you coo, lowering your hand mirror and pressing a hand to your chest while Jeongguk pretends to gag. “She’d really support you through thick and thin. That’s adorable, Guk.”

“You can sleep with her instead then,” Jeongguk sighs, holding your wrist before you can go back to fixing your lipstick, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Call me later.”

You watch him grab his jacket and the trash, walking out of your office with a little wave over his shoulder. You look back down at your reflection in your mirror, rubbing your lips together and wondering why you suddenly feel flustered. 

                                                      〰️

“I’m surprised you have time to be here, princess,” Hoseok says, not taking his eyes off the TV, blindly reaching for the bowl of popcorn.

“It was either this, or some gala or gallery opening or… something. I dunno,” you reply, not moving from where you’re leaning against Jeongguk’s side, head on his chest.

“You picked our dumb movie night over fancy dress and champagne?” Jeongguk asks, looking at you and reaching down to poke your side before returning his arm to where it was wrapped around your shoulders. “You need to reorganise your priorities, bub.”

“What, you’d rather be in a tux, mingling with middle-aged rich people who think the kind of music you guys make is ‘useless noise’?”

“Okay, fair point.”

“Can you guys shut up? We’re getting to the good part,” Taehyung says, clearing his throat and shuffling closer to Yoongi; Jeongguk shares a look with you, rolling his eyes. “And our movie nights are not dumb, Jeongguk. The only thing dumb about movie night is that you end up sobbing like a little girl after half the movies we watch.”

“I do not!”

“Aww. You’re a softie,” you coo, tickling his chin.

“Stop that,” he groans, swatting your hand away. “It is perfectly normal to tear up while watching The Notebook.”

“And Titanic, and Schindler’s List, and—” Yoongi lists, smirking. 

“Shut up! Ugh. You guys suck.”

You chuckle and rub Jeongguk’s chest, letting your arm rest comfortably across his waist. 

                                                      〰️

By the time the credits begin to roll, the others have all fallen asleep, you and Jeongguk not far behind from joining them. Without removing his arm from your shoulder, he raises his hips off the couch to stretch his back.

You take a deep breath, quietly groaning when you sit up and stretch your arms above your head, the hem of your shirt riding up to expose a sliver of your stomach. When you settle back down, you see Jeongguk looking at you, eyebrow arched, smile playing on his lips.

“Really?” you say, scoffing quietly.

“I am but a man, sweet cheeks,” he replies, hand on his chest. “A man with needs.”

“And I am a woman, sir. A woman that needs to sleep.”

“Fine. Another raincheck then.” Yawning, he gets up and stretches again. “Need a shirt? Or you planning on sleeping in what you’re wearin’?”

You stop wiping the corner of your eye, looking up at him, taken aback by this… subtle implication that you’ll be sleeping over for the first time.

“Huh?”

“You want one of my shirts to sleep in or are you good?”

“Uh…”

“Or do you sleep… naked?” Jeongguk gasps dramatically, lips turning up into a smirk.

“Shut up,” you groan, shaking your head and kicking his thigh. “Such a perv.”

“And I reiterate: I am a man with needs. C’mon. Let’s go to bed.” He laughs quietly at the look you give him. “To sleep.”

“What about these guys?”

“Pfft, leave them. Their neck problems are not yours, bub.”

                                                      〰️

You wake up to the smell of coffee and burning toast, a weight on your waist pinning you down onto the bed. 

It takes a moment when you open your eyes to comprehend that you hadn’t fallen asleep in your own bed last night, and that the weight on your waist was, in fact, Jeongguk’s inked arm holding you close to his chest. He stirs when he feels you shift in his hold, taking in a deep breath and hiding his face in your hair. 

“What time is it?” he asks, voice croaky with sleep.

“No clue,” you say, fighting the urge to fall back to sleep, the warmth on your back seeping through the material of your shirt — Jeongguk’s shirt — inviting and relaxing. 

“I bet you ten thousand Won the fire alarm will go off in the next minute.”

“You seem very confident about that.”

“I’m confident in Taehyung hyung’s cooking skills — or lack of.”

You chuckle quietly before flipping over with a yawn, eyes still half shut. Jeongguk loosens his hold on you to let you turn, but quickly pulls you in once you’re facing him, hiding his face in your hair again.

“Let’s go out for breakfast,” he says. “I’m not in the mood for burnt toast and raw scrambled eggs.”

“Why not? That sounds delicious.”

“Fine. You stay here. I’ll go get some french toast and some good coffee.”

“Mmm, french toast.” You hum softly, sniffling. “You paying?”

“Hmm… sure. I got some cash to spare. Gonna have to take the bike though. Hoseok hyung might’ve already taken the car to work.”

“Not the bike,” you whine; Jeongguk chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek before sitting up with a groan, patting your ass lightly.

“C’mon. Let’s head out before the other guys figure out what we’re doin’ and try to tag along.”

You open one eye to watch him climb off the bed, picking up one of his shirts and giving it a sniff before disappearing into the bathroom. You sit up with a quiet groan, scratching your head and wondering why your cheek feels several degrees warmer.

                                                      〰️

“Woah, woah, woah. Hottie at twelve o’clock,” Jaehyun says, craning his head to peer over Eunwoo’s shoulder, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Uh, you mean hotties,” Mingyu corrects, putting down the glass in his hand, and draping his towel over his shoulder. “Wow.”

“You guys wanna not act like teenage boys?” Jeongguk chuckles, leaning against the bar and pulling his phone out of his pocket, scrolling through his messages.

“I’m sorry you don’t have eyes, Jeongguk,” Yugyeom scoffs, setting his tray down on the bar. “But I think a certain reaction is expected when the heiress of Samsung walks into our shitty restaurant with her friends.”

“Wait. _____’s here?”

Jeongguk swivels around, scanning the dining floor with wide eyes, missing the way Dokyeom comments, who’s the teenage boy now? under his breath when he spots you and smirks. It doesn’t take long for you to spot him, and you scoff quietly at the look he’s giving you, shaking your head and rolling your eyes.

“Boys, I’m goin’ on break,” Jeongguk announces, untying his apron from his waist, grinning at the annoyed groans from his friends.

“We’re literally ten or fifteen minutes away from the Friday night rush,” Yugyeom says, smacking his arm. “Bros before hos!”

“Gyeom… you’re saying you’d pick these guys over _____? Think about it. Like really think about it, dude.” Yugyeom looks at the rest of the group, who all seem to be thinking over Jeongguk’s question too, before turning back to Jeongguk, sighing with defeat. “That’s what I thought. Gentlemen, adieu.”

The guys roll their eyes and shake their heads, watching him walk off in your direction.

“Wait, why’re we eating here again?” Hyemi asks, warily eyeing the sticky menu set down in front of her.

“I was in the mood for inauthentic Italian food,” you answer, smiling and reading over the specials.

“I’d recommend the bacon garlic linguine.”

You don’t flinch at the sudden whisper in your ear, only smiling wider and chuckling.

“Garlic? So close to bedtime? That’s an unusual recommendation, Jeon.”

“Hey. I’m not fussy. I accept you no matter what — garlic breath and all.” He presses a kiss to your cheek before straightening up, bowing his head at the rest of your table, hands in the pocket of his slacks. “Ladies.”

“Hi, Jeongguk. Are you working or are you joining us?” Hyemi says.

“Oh, well that all depends on Miss _____ over here.”

“Hmm… it would’ve been nice to have our own personal server, but I suppose you can stay for a bite of two, if you must,” you reply, reaching for the drinks menu.

“Hmm, well, I can get you multiple personal servers — if you ladies would like that, that is,” Jeongguk says, grinning.

A few of the girls gasp, whispering between themselves.

“The boys at the bar?” Hyemi asks.

“The boys at the bar.”

“Huh. Maybe this place isn’t so bad after all, _____.”

                                                      〰️

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

You turn to look at Jeongguk, smile still on your lips as you cradle your glass of wine in your hand. He’s giving you a look that you can’t really explain, but his arm is draped over the back of your chair, and he’s looking right at you, and it feels as if the restaurant is completely empty around you.

“What, Jeongguk?” you ask, nudging his shoulder.

“I just remembered something,” he says, reaching for your half-eaten slice of garlic bread.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“I kinda wanna take you out on a date.”

Your eyebrows arch up so fast, you’re sure they disappear into your hair in an instant.

“A… date?”

“Mhm.” He takes a bite of your garlic bread, shrugging. “Been thinking about it for a while. Not really sure why, but… actually, no — I do know why. It’s Yoongi hyung’s fault.”

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah, he said something a couple months back about me needing to get a girlfriend, and to stop annoying you every time my dick twitches ‘cause you’re probably busy most of the time I hit you up. Anyway, I figured I’m twenty-four goin’ on fifty, I’m not goin’ back to school anytime soon, so why not?” He puts the bread back down onto your empty plate, dusting off his fingers. “How ‘bout it? Wanna go on a date with me, sweet cheeks?”

You look at him, too stunned to say anything coherent as it dawns on you that he really did just ask you that.

Jeon Jeongguk has just asked you out on a date.

“Really?” you ask, putting your glass of wine down and turning to face him properly. “You wanna go out on a date with me?”

“I do,” he says, picking up your glass of wine instead and taking a sip.

“And not because you want a new phone, TV, or washing machine whenever there’s a new release… or want to be on the cover of magazines and newspapers every other day… or want me to buy you the newest pair of Yeezys before they’re released in Korea?”

“Well… hmm… actually…” He chuckles when you smack his arm, rolling your eyes. “I’m kidding. No, after what Yoongi hyung said, I actually do wanna take you on a date. I’m curious to see if we can woo each other’s pants off — metaphorically and literally speaking, of course.”

“Of course.”

“So? What d’you say? Will you let me take you out on a date?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, thinking it over. Jeongguk keeps his eyes on you, waiting for an answer, and twirling an unused spoon between his fingers. Eventually, you take a deep breath, smiling and shrugging.

“Eh, what the hell? Sure. Why not?” you say, taking your glass of wine back.

“Wait, shit. Really?”

“Why do you sound surprised?”

“I didn’t actually think there was a chance you’d say yes,” Jeongguk says, laughing. “Um. Okay. Cool. Yeah. Alright, I’ll, uh… let you know when and where once I’ve figured that out.”

“I look forward to it, Jeon.”

[han-shinsuke]

🔞🔞 TOJI FUSHIGURO

To the man I love,

Can I really make you fall in love with me? The answer is no. I could never replaced her. She was your beginning and she would be the end. I did tried my luck in hope of reviving your heart. You said it died with her and you weren’t capable of loving anyone aside from her. That’s where you were wrong about yourself. You may not have realised it, but you just did and you continue pouring everything you can give; to me, to Megumi, and to those who deserves it. You are not what you think you are. I see no evil in you. I see light and hope in your existence. Forgive me, for I am not enough to make you feel what it was like to love again.

May you find the right one for you, Toji. May you find peace in the love you are looking for.

//////

“You dated someone before?” Must I relive the time where I was the most happy? That’s what people do when they long for someone or feeling they had once experienced.

There was a chapter in my life I can never forget. It was the time of stupidity, bravery, and letting go, “I only dated one man in my life.” He has this kind of beauty that any woman my age that time would find hard to resist. “I seduced him to screw me. He is a man and a man has needs.” It was a good fuck indeed. “I had taken him by force. We were married. He could not say no. I was a minor.”

Jesse was in awe. Her mind probably couldn’t process all the shits I have been telling her. “When was that?” Only few of my closest friends knows about these. “During my college days.” A hearty laugh follows.

Again, it was the time of stupidity and bravery and shits. “I told my Dad to drop all the charges against him. He deserves peace and time alone. Of course, with his son and deceased first wife.” It has been five years. I hope he is in perfect shape and stabilized condition. He must be. I am out of his life.

“What would you feel if you meet him again? You left him after a night of rough fuck and a letter.”

Meet him? Again? Who would want to meet the nightmare they wish to disappear? I am a nightmare disguised as a woman. I shall perish.

“I’d be glad.” But he wouldn’t. He will be reminded of the times he had spent with me. “You know what? No one in their right mind would dare cross path with me again.” I may not be able to hold back and cage him in my arms and be the old freak I used to be.

Wherever you are right now, Toji, please, do not show up. I’m tired of being selfish and manipulative and loser when it comes to loving you.

I can’t make you mine.

You were never made for me.

“I will see you tomorrow.” I have started a new life in Kelowna. Alone. I made friends with some locals and luckily, landed a good job in here that pays well. Dad offered me a position in the company but I refused.

My house is not that far from where I work so I always walk home at night; to enjoy the darkness, to feel the coldness of the night and to be at peace under the watch of stars from above.

The keys jingles in my hand as I open the door and closed it again. I head straight to the kitchen without turning the lights on. I grew familiar with every corners so there’s no need to. The light coming from the open refrigerator flooded the kitchen and when I turn to get a glass on the kitchen counter, there is a man sitting there, wearing a plain white shirt and a pajama.

I scream so loud that it destroys the silence of the night and the neighborhood I am living at.

“Fuck!” Toji jumps on me. Two large hands covering my mouth. “It’s me! It’s me!” He points the scar on his face.

If he show up, I will not hold back.

I pounce on him fast. Knocking him down against the counter and in just a heartbeat, my lips are connected to his, kissing him with so much hunger that only him could satiate. I pull onto his shirt and drag him closer when he returns the kiss boldly. Without hesitation, Toji scoops my weight and put it on him as he walks to the couch near the fireplace. My back landed on the soft cushioned seat and my determination to keep him close and lock up between my arms increased. I won’t hold back. I won’t. Toji removed his shirt and the massive built displayed in front makes my throat run dry. I run my fingers from his scar, down to his neck, to his hard chest and to the trenches on his lower abdomen. I had these once. I got to taste the heaven that this body offered.

“Just say ‘no’ and I will stop.” My fingers slips into his pajama, playing with its band. Toji feels no love towards me. What he feels whenever I am this near and close and intimate is just pure heat and thirst. So when he said, “don’t stop.” I switch position with him. I expected it. He’s hard and his eyes don’t lie. I hurriedly discharged of my clothes and top him.

“I will ride you now daddy~” He just nodded. I pull his pajama down to his thighs and just like before, I acted as the thirsty harlot that I am. I am just a harlot, right, Toji? After this, I will drive you away.

He has gotten bigger and longer. I am familiar with his thing. I could tell if there has changes on it. And there was. It does not fit. It feels bigger. Toji seems to notice my struggles in putting him in. He spat on his palm and rub the essence around his length.

“I apologize for the discomfort.” He says, guiding my hips down to his saliva-coated manhood. Our ’thing’ slips into each other smoothly and its presence inside me made me remember the night we had in Mt. Romelo. Toji locks his gaze with me. There’s lust in it and there’s an unknown inhabitant in it fighting against the heat. I cannot withstand it. With my eyes closed and shedding in tears, I capture his lips using mine. Kissing him again hungrily. The rough movements of my lips causes his mouth to part ways and voluntarily lay a path for my tongue.

“Shit baby~ your kiss alone can make me cum~” Toji cried in satisfaction when I bit his bottom lip and tugged on it until he let out a long moan.

“Squeeze my ass daddy~ squeeze me hard~” I guide his experienced hands below and did what I told him to do. Toji squeezed me there hard and even spanked it until it sting. “Great daddy~ do it again please~” My tongue rest flat on his lips and I lick him and kiss him torridly before it goes down his chin which I rewarded with soft kisses and bites before attending his weakness. His neck.

“Fuck...” another long wail from him after I bit him there and suck the skin that has my teeth marks. “Ride me baby~ daddy’s hard for you~” he didn’t have to tell me. I will anyway. I’m just preparing him. Toji likes it when I’m on top and moving.

I continue the hard kiss and lick on his neck while I started pumping my cunt against his leaking cxck. It was slow at first, grinding gently, letting our muscles to adjust to the absence of intimate contact for years. “You want me to go fast daddy?” I know you do, Toji. The way your chest moves up and down and the choke-like-breath you are releasing, confirms it. “You taste so fucking good daddy~ cum inside me daddy~ you’ll love it.” I run my tongue in circular motion from his neck down to his nipplesx and then give what his body was asking for. I fuck my cunt deep and fast against his erection and Toji tightens his grip on my waist as he helps me move easily.

“Shit. Shit.” I love how he put stress to each word. Toji looks beautiful and helpless underneath me. He just makes me wanna ride him more. I push him flat on his back. I even pin his muscular arms above his head and kiss him torridly while riding him. “More baby~ ride daddy’s dickx like that aah yes~”

“Cum daddy~ cum~ flood my hole with your seeds ooohh fuck~” Toji managed to turn the situation in just a click of his tongue against my jaw. He have my hands behind my waist as he cocks his hips upwards, hitting my core in full strength while his lips moves on my neck and anywhere it reaches.

“I’m gonna cum baby~ stretch your pussyxx for daddy yeah? Almost there baby~ Fuck~”

“Ooohhh daddyy~ give it to me fuck~”

A harlot. That’s just what I am. I drown my thoughts with his kiss and flood my mind with his warm loads gushing into me.

I need to drain him so I could leave without him noticing it.

“Another round daddy?” I pulled him out. “I want to ride your face, too.” I will not let him protest. I kneel and sit on his face.

//////

“I booked you a cab. Get your things, Toji.” My plan failed. He didn’t pass out. It was me who got knocked down pretty bad. He fucked me in every positions and he only stopped when I begged him.

Toji cornered me against the window seat and smiled maniacally, “your plan won’t work on me twice baby~” I growled at him when he cupped my breast and taste its bud. I’m just wearing a bathrobe so access is easy. “Let’s give Megumi a little brother, yeah?” He cups another and nibble it. My hands move on instinct. I grab on his hair and press his face harder on my exposed chest.

“Aahh gosh, Toji!’ His tongue is swirling and flicking against my nipplesx. I can’t suppress my moans! “Aahh! St—stop seducing me aahhh!” Now, his fingers finds its way on my folds and immediately proceeds scissoring my hole.

“Oh!” Toji suddenly stops. I pant in anticipation and desire. I want his mouth and fingers back! “I need to return something from you.” I kick my feet when he leaves to get the thing he mentioned from the suitcase.

“What?” I asked. Annoyed. Lips pouted.

Toji pulled me up and was laughing when he pushed me down on the bed. He held my hand and to my surprise, a ring—our wedding ring, was put back in my finger.

I wasn’t sure how or when did I start sobbing when Toji leaned down and claimed my lips then whispered,

“Stay with me and let me love you.”