#but I know they weren’t well off and now she’s bought hard into being the white Christian nuclear family

[bluesundaymorn]

There’s a specific type of grief you get from losing friends and family members who are trying to distance themselves from poverty.

[delusionsofgrandeur13]

pt. 2

you just saw your ex boyfriend, dick grayson, for the first time since he broke up with you.

you ran into him on the street.

no, like, literally ran into him.

you were walking your mom’s dog for her, a german shepherd she got when you moved out. she’d aptly named him trouble. despite his name, trouble was usually a mellow guy, even if he was huge. walking him was just another thing you were doing to try and ignore the thoughts constantly pounding out a beat in your head.

oh, dick would think this is funny! that’s dick’s favorite color, i should buy it! dick and i should go there on our next date!

and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on, and on and-

anyways, you were definitely trying to keep yourself busy.

any time a memory popped up in your brain of him—

laughing at your jokes, holding you close while you fell asleep, kissing your neck while he thrust into you

—you’d empty the dishwasher, paint your nails, (any color but blue) turn on reality tv, read a book, stuff your face, whatever.

anything to stop fucking thinking about him and his stupid blue eyes and his dumb smile.

you’d been been watching the news, sprawled across the couch. just the regular gotham news: don’t use main street, mr. freeze’s ray iced out the pavement. the iceberg lounge had been raided by the police for the third time this month. the justice league defeated yet another extraterrestrial threat to humanity, blah, blah, blah. you weren’t really watching. the news program ended, and the next one started. a gotham gossip show. they were doing a special segment on the wayne family.

of course they fucking were. even your tv was conspiring against you. you had to resist the urge to chuck the remote at it.

you turned it off instead, heading to your room to get ready for a run.

(running for exercise or running from your thoughts?)

your mom had asked you to take trouble right before you’d walked out the door, and so you grabbed him and his leash and headed out. you’d forgotten the bags for his poop, but you didn’t think you would be out that long, so you just kept on going.

you were wearing the leggings dick had bought you, ones he joked should be a specific blue color. you hadn’t understood then, but you more than understood now. it was warmer, and so you just had on an old sports bra on top, and some converse.

you were not the athletic type. that was dick. probably still was. you wouldn’t really know.

you hadn’t talked since it happened, like three or four weeks ago.

time had become a little fuzzy. your mom said you could stay with her as long as you needed, but you were starting to get the itch to move out.

nothing against your mom, it’s just hard to sob really loudly into a pint of ice cream when she’s there.

and she keeps trying to wash the one shirt of dick’s you still have. you know, fully well, how dumb it is, (and a little gross) but you’re still wearing his shirt every night to bed. and maybe it’s all in your head, but it still smells like him. you aren’t ready to wash it. besides, now that you’re sleeping by yourself, you’re pretty sure it’s helping you fall asleep. something that was hard to do the first few nights without your big warm boyfriend next to you in bed.

it probably isn’t good for you, to keep wearing his shirt.

you’d had your hand between your thighs more than once late at night thinking about being enveloped in his scent. your nights were haunted with thoughts of his body over yours, his phantom voice in your ear. calling you angel, asking you if this was heaven, like the last time you’d had sex.

it definitely isn’t good for you.

but neither is life without dick grayson.

you try not to dwell on the fact that dick had given you a sort of non-reason for the breakup. sure, it got lonely sometimes, or you got anxious for your masked boyfriend, so you cried. so what if your patience wore thin after a few too many “i’m sorry, angel, i can’t make it this time”-s.

you were human!

but you’d never, never once complained about his absence or his commitments to his family.

never.

he’d just assumed you were silently suffering and it really irked you if you thought about it for too long. you still weren’t sure if you were mad at him or sad, or whatever. it felt like your brain couldn’t decide on an emotion so you just got twelve at once. but what you did know for sure was that he was 110% worth it to you. you just wish he’d realize that. see that. instead of just the times you were a little emotionally strung out. your ex boyfriend was too willing to sacrifice his own mental health for the sake of yours and you were sick of it. but you didn’t know if you had the courage to say that to him. or even see him, after the way this breakup had hit you.

your friends had managed to get you out of the house, a few times now.

you’d gotten almost too drunk every time, escaping your friends and going outside to get some air. this time, you saw a guy that looked just enough like dick, and it’d all been too much. so you got out of there. you sat yourself down on the curb, looking up at the hazy rooftops. you were always looking up. always.

and since the break up, you’d noticed the vigilantes of your city more often. maybe there was more criminal activity. maybe you were just paying more attention than you used to.

you’d seen spoiler and orphan, pounding the pavement behind you to run after some seedy looking guy holding a briefcase. you think spoiler tried to high five you on the way past, but there was no way. you wrote it off as your memory embellishing things.

you were pretty sure red hood had nodded at you before disappearing down a fire escape on the other side of the building.

your mom had recently gotten a delivery of security cameras for her house. but she hadn’t ordered them. the shipping address had only the address of some warehouse on the dock, the name just, ‘R.R.’ you’d set the cameras up, but you and your mom both were still baffled about it.

and here, sitting on the curb, you were staring at what looked like a dark figure crouched on the rooftop opposite. they’d been there when you’d entered the club, too.

you squinted, trying to make out shoulders and suit colors, when they stood up, and the light bounced off his shiny cowl.

fucking batman?

you shook your head, trying to shake your drunk brain like an etch-a-sketch. there was actually no way.

a smaller figure, one you hadn’t seen behind the shape of batman (!?) pulled a weapon, a gleaming silver sword, and pointed it at you. your head spun. batman (there was no way) shook his head at robin. he sheathed his sword, throwing his hands up in what looked like annoyance. you blinked, and they were gone.

you weren’t really sure if it had happened or not. you’d been trying not to think too hard about the fact that you still hadn’t seen nightwing. you’d really been trying.

so instead, you were walking your mom’s dog.

trouble had, in fact, pooped, and you were frantically looking around for something to pick it up with. gotham was already shitty enough without the addition of, well, literal shit. the streets were busy, but not crowded, and someone down the block whistled for a cab, catching your attention. you turned, and at the same time, trouble jerked your arm, pulling you backwards into someone walking on the sidewalk. the stranger made a choked sound.

“trouble??”

your heart stopped. you held your breath, turning around.

trouble was at attention, looking up at your ex-boyfriend with his head cocked.

dick’s eyes were wide. his hair shorter than you remember. he leaned down to scratch trouble behind the ears, his biceps and shoulder muscles in hard relief. are you dreaming? you didn’t recognize the shirt he had on, but he was wearing your favorite jeans of his, and his matching converse. your mouth felt like a desert.

trouble trails around the two of you, the leash long. he loves your ex-boyfriend, you know he won’t go anywhere.

“did you cut your hair?” you take a step forward. dick does too.

“i-” he clears his throat. “i did. do you like it?” he shifts his eyes, his cheeks bright pink.

you make a show of looking it over. he turns his head so you can see it from all angles. like he always did when he got a haircut.

your chest hurts.

you nod approvingly, flashing him a weak smile.

“it looks really nice. you’re very-” your face heats as you stop yourself. “it looks very handsome.”

that’s an understatement. you would’ve climbed him like a tree the minute he’d come home looking like that. the way his biceps were bulging out of his shirt sleeves could not be good for his circulation. it was great for yours, your heart was beating a mile a minute.

dick smiles down at you, stepping forward again.

“thanks.” he looks down, taking in your outfit. “nice leggings, ang-” he’s cut off when trouble spots a squirrel and darts, barking wildly. the problem is, trouble had been walking his leashed self around you and dick.

you’re now chest to chest with your ex boyfriend in the middle of a sidewalk, tied to him by rope. you vaguely hear trouble whine at the way his collar bit into his neck from the leash pulling taut. you didn’t even have the time to process the fact that he had almost called you angel. which was probably a good thing.

you’re breathing heavily, while dick doesn’t seem to be breathing at all.

he’s put his arms around you on instinct, and you hate the way you feel like you’re home. a shiver runs up your spine at the sudden closeness, and dick peers down at you through half-lids. your mouth dries up again. you suddenly feel indignant.

“you are not allowed to breakup with me and then show up and look at me like that!” you hiss at him.

you would throw up your hands in exasperation if they weren’t basically pinned to dick’s body. a smile breaks across his face, his bright blue eyes telling you everything you need to know. he stares at you, studying you. you wonder if he can feel how hard your heart is beating.

“alfred taught me a new recipe.” he blurts, his hand clutching at your back.

he’s adorable. but you school your face and raise an eyebrow at him.

“..oookay?”

dick blushes, his face sheepish. “i could make it for you, if you wanted.”

“what i want is an apology.” you look him up and down.

your ex boyfriend grimaces, squeezing his eyes shut. “understandable.”

“on your hands and knees. i think this is one of those begging-for-my-forgiveness type situations, don’t you think?”

dick nods, a strand of hair falling across his forehead. his eyes flash.

“you don’t have to worry about getting me on my knees.”

one heartbeat pounds behind your ribs, the other one between your legs. you huff out a weird sort of nervous laugh.

“oh, i’m not joking.” his lips curve up in a smile, one you know very well. he obviously plans to make up on lost time.

you forgot how charming he was. you have to practically force yourself to breathe. you’d do anything to have the real thing over his old t-shirt. you give yourself a mental shake.

he can flirt all he wants, but what about your heart? you look up at him, and his face softens, his pupils huge.

“can you get us untangled?”

dick nods, whistling for trouble. he frees an arm and grabs trouble’s collar, guiding him back around so the leash falls to the sidewalk. you step back, taking a deep breath. you’re cold at the sudden loss of his body heat. it’s a harsh reminder of reality. you grab trouble’s leash, having him sit. you look at your ex boyfriend.

“thanks.” you take another deep breath. “can you promise me something, though?”

he nods, his face serious. “anything. anything at all.”

“promise you won’t break my heart again?” you hold out your pinky finger.

dick coughs, surprised at your words. he looks down, taking a shaky breath. he’s in disbelief, he’s ecstatic, he’s on top of the world, he…has a lot of apologizing to do.

when he looks back up to offer up his own pinky, his eyes are shining. the sight makes your heart melt. you take his finger in yours, beaming up at him.

he gives you a soft smile in return. “i promise.”

you take your hand back, feeling the most hopeful you have in a month.

a breeze picks up, and the whiff you get reminds you of your earlier predicament. you look down. dick looks down too.

shit. literally.

you forgot about the fact that trouble had used the sidewalk as a toilet.

“is that trouble’s?” he asks.

you nod, making a face. “i forgot the poop bags.”

“rookie mistake.” dick shakes his head, smiling. you look him up and down, and then turn, walking back the way you came.

“text me about that recipe!” you lift your hand in a wave.

“but-..uh, the shit?” he calls after you.

“that’s alllll you, baby!” you yell back, practically skipping away. you feel like you’re floating.

[carpentvrs]

DREAMY EYES

pairing :: james potter x fem!reader (implied girly!reader)

warnings :: mentions of getting laid (no smut), fluff!! please mind that english isn’t my first language. 1.5k words

james was truly smitten. he couldn’t not ogle at you at any given moment, heart eyes following you around every single room or corridor, sighs of pure admiration leaving his lungs whenever you would talk to him at breakfast or lunch while his head rested on his hand, dreamy eyes trying to catch yours.

but who was to blame him? you were just so pretty, your hair swaying lightly as you rushed to class, your hand accidentally brushing his as you stepped past him.

„why the rush, darling?“ he asked, keeping up with your pace as well as he could, still tired from last night which had lasted longer than it should’ve; peter, remus, sirius and him too busy sneaking around the castle and setting up shenanigans to sleep. at least there wasn’t ever a single day of boredom with them in the castle.

butterflies erupted in your stomach at the nickname, but you tried to suppress it the best you could. he managed to fluster you with his little pet names everytime without exception, and every yet so small sliver of hope you would get from them, you’d kill off. you’d go mad, otherwise.

„i’m hurrying to class james,“ you smiled at him, „and i think you should be too.“, grabbing his arm to pull him with you. you couldn’t see the way he blushed at your action, and he was glad. it was embarrassing how in love with you he was, considering the amount of attention other boys were giving you.

he could understand, obviously. it was already hard to not fall for your looks, but the fact your bubbly and inviting personality was just as perfect? how could anybody not fall for that? he was sure the sole reason remus and sirius saw you as only a friend was because they knew how enamored with you he was.

but you didn’t know. „he’s just a very sweet and nice person“ was what you said to lily when she asked you about it. you liked him, no question. but you saw the way he would flirt with other girls at parties and in hogsmead, occasionally winking at them even though lily and you were walking just next to him. so to you, he was just a friend, even though you would easily smother him in kisses if he ever just bought you flowers or opened doors for only you like the other stupid guys always did, not only as a friendly gesture but as something more.

you realized he wouldn’t, so there was no point in waiting for him. instead, while he was busy chatting with different girls at parties, you were seated in a quiet corner, talking to your girlfriends and having a drink or two yourself, dancing with guys here and there if they asked you nicely and sometimes, if they were being very polite, you’d give them a tiny kiss on the cheek and a little wave before getting another butterbeer and walking back to your friends once again.

that was probably what made you so irresistible, the fact you would never go as far as even giving a little peck on the lips while other girls were ready to go back to the dorm with said guys. you weren’t one to judge, neither the girls nor the boys, they could do whatever they want, it wasn’t your business. and if they wanted to get laid and got the chance, why not do it? just not with you.

however, they thought you were playing hard to get on purpose, and who wouldn’t be up for a challenge when it’s about a girl like you?

but even when every guys’ head turned to look at you whenever you entered the room, you didn’t care. you didn’t even notice, you were just living in the moment, deeply into the meaningful - or sometimes meaningless - banter with your friends, not a single care in the world.

well, for some reason one nerve of yours always got very terribly struck whenever you would lift your head only to see james‘ hand steadied on some other gryffindor‘s back. „whatever“ was what you always thought, head turning back to whoever was talking right now.

and it didn’t take long for james to leave your mind, at least until you were laid down on your bed at three in the morning where james would haunt your mind in ways you wouldn’t dare to say out loud.

„you got a date for the party today yet?“ he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as he possibly could. „i prefer to go with my friends, as you already know.“

„well, we are friends, no?“

„class starts in a few, we can talk later.“ you said to him, avoiding his eyes as you made your way over to lily who was already sitting at your usual place in the charm‘s classroom, her hands immediately going to fix the little ribbon in your hair when you sat down to her right. she must’ve seen that you were in a rush just a few seconds ago, and the confused look on your face didn’t go unnoticed either. „what’s up with you, you look-“

„james just asked me on a ‚date‘, i think“ you stated, but it came out rather like a question while you knitted your eyebrows in a puzzled manner.

„well, i told you before he has a thing for you“

„but i don’t believe it“

„why not? it’s basically written on his face that he’s head over heels for you“

you were just about to reply, a look of disapproval already plastered on your face, but got interrupted by the professor. after the lesson the topic was already forgotten, lily and you talking about what you were going to wear tonight rather than the, to you very ridiculous, james situation.

it wasn’t until the party, which you attended hand in hand with lily, that james and you began to talk again. you were just about to get yourself another firewhiskey shot when he appeared right next to you at the small bar counter.

„how come you always reject when you get asked out?“

the question caught you off guard. he wasn’t the first to ask you that question, but you’ve never felt so called out after someone interrogated like that. your eyes widened slightly and you nervously bit your lip. what were you supposed to answer? „i realized i don’t have a chance with you so i gave up on relationships completely“?

„i just don’t want to date someone i don’t like like that, i guess.”

it wasn’t a lie, after all. you could just simply wait until the feelings faded, and then maybe you would be open for something new. until then, you would just have to keep on pretending like your feelings towards him did not exist.

„i suppose you don’t like me, then?“

„what?“

„you rejected me too today, didn’t you?“

you were startled by his questions, and suddenly it felt like it was just you two in this actually very crowded common room, the air around you feeling tighter and more stifling than usual.

„do you like me, james? like, like-like me? because everybody’s been telling me but i feel like i’m going crazy because i like-like you but you keep flirting with other girls and you wink and wave at them and you put your arms around them and i hate that but i don’t want things between us to be weird because i don’t want to lose you as a friend eith-“ you stumbled over your words in hurry, every nerve of yours spinning and pulling and you could feel your own face heat up.

“you like me?”

“i- uh- i asked first!” your heard was racing and you hoped to merlin that he felt the same way and you didn’t just make a fool out of yourself, confessing to a guy who doesn’t even see you like that.

he didn’t exactly answer the question, but he showed you.

his eyes were full of appreciation as he leaned down to you, gently caressing your face as he pressed his lips against yours. and finally, you felt at peace with your own feelings. your lips continued to move in sync until you heard a few claps behind you which broke you apart. when you turned around, you found sirius winking at you and lily eyeing you with a proud look on her face.

it was only when you faced james again that you saw the way he actually looked at you all this time, with his head resting on his hand, dreamy eyes trying to catch yours.

“of course i like-like you, how could i not?”

[just-jordie-things]

the subject of every photo - fushiguro megumi

word count: 5,555 (i'm so proud of that) warnings: swearin' summary: a photoshoot at the pumpkin patch isn't his ideal day, but at least megumi gets to spend time with you. and maybe he'll take a few pictures anyway. (a/n): really delayed pumpkin themed fic with the softest boy but i needed to write this ok a greater power called upon me to do it

___

“It’ll be fun!” Nobara had claimed, although her tone was more threatening than bubbly.  “It’s just a little photoshoot at a pumpkin patch, why so gloomy about it?” 

And it wasn’t that Megumi was gloomy about it, because he wasn’t.  It would be immature to pout about a simple hangout among friends.  The thing was… he just didn’t care for the whole pumpkin patch thing that really seemed to take off on instagram and tiktok these last few years.

He hadn’t carved a pumpkin since he was just a tot, and even then he’d only done it to satisfy Gojo’s bonkers need to participate in every holiday tradition.  He never particularly liked scooping the guts and seeds out, and as a kid wasn’t decent enough with a blade to carve a face that actually looked interesting.  Not to mention, it was always chilly in late October, making it insufferable to wander around outside solely to pick out a big orange vegetable.  

Really, if he wanted a pumpkin that bad, he would’ve picked out a discount one from the grocery store.  But really, he didn’t want a pumpkin.

Nonetheless, Nobara had bought four disposable cameras— which he didn’t know were even still a thing— told everyone to wear their cutest, coziest outfit, and pretty much demanded they all go spend the afternoon at one of the more popular farms in town.  As with most plans, Megumi begrudgingly agreed.

Even under three layers— his coat, his sweater, and the long sleeved tee he wore underneath them both— the crisp air still pricked at his skin and left goosebumps in it’s wake.  It was hard to enjoy being out here when he was fighting the urge to shiver.

“It’s pretty cold for this, huh?” 

Megumi wipes away the resting bitch face he’d been making, opting instead for as much neutrality as he could muster.  He turns to (y/n), only to find her peering up at him from behind her little plastic camera.  His brows wrinkle.

“Don’t take a picture of me at that angle” 

He puts his hand over the lens and pushes it away before she could even think about snapping the photo, and she chuckles a bit at his boyish antics.  He almost cracks a smile when she’s peeking up at him with her cheeks tinged pink from the cold.  He squashes it before his lip could curl too far.

“Well what side do you prefer then?” She teases, shifting around to stand before him and raising her shitty little camera again.  “Full portrait? Or perhaps a side profile?”

Megumi rolls his eyes, but when he starts to walk away, she’s quick to follow.  He doesn’t dislike her company.

Nobara is off farther in the field, ordering Yuuji to pick up as many pumpkins as he can for the perfect picture.  It was only a matter of time before she came over and started barking at the two of them to make the perfect poses as well.

“So why do you hate pumpkin patches?” (y/n) breaks their silence, but when he turns to her again, she’s fixing her camera on a sparrow pecking away at a less than ripe pumpkin.

“I don’t hate pumpkin patches,” He replies, but even he has to admit the dryness in his voice makes it seem a bit unbelievable.  “It’s just…” He glances at her out of the corner of his eye, but he’s quick to straighten his gaze when he finds her full attention on him now.  “Cold” He finishes, lamely, but it’s not untrue.

He fiddles with the plastic camera in his hands.

“Yeah,” (y/n) agrees from beside him.  “Would’ve been nice to do this a few weeks ago, when it was still sunny” 

Megumi nods back at her, unsure of what else to say.

He hoped that they weren’t doomed to only speak about the weather today.  However that meant he’d probably have to put the effort in to change the subject.  His palms began to sweat.

It was their day off, so he didn’t want to strike up a conversation about work, and preferably he’d like to avoid the subject of sorcery altogether.  So that narrowed down the options by a lot.

He knew that like him, she liked to read.  But she was more into the fantasy stuff, and the only book off the top of his head he could make conversation about was The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe and he was fairly certain that wasn’t currently on her shelf.

Was it always this hard or was he just overthinking it? 

“Wait, stay right there!” 

Before he can suck it up and ask how her most recent assignment went, (y/n’s) throwing her arms up at him to make him freeze in place.  Megumi startles at the sudden movement and holler, but he listens and stays put while she backs up a few steps.

“The sun is peeking out,” She explains, before steadying her camera in front of her face.  “The lighting is great” She says with a grin, and then without warning, she snaps the photo.

Megumi wants to complain, he didn’t even have time to smile or pose or anything.  When that picture got printed, he’d just be a guy standing there, probably with a resting bitch face.  Nobara wouldn’t be happy.

But (y/n’s) still grinning as she lowers the camera.

“Too bad we gotta wait so long to see ‘em,” She says as she heads back towards him.  “It’d be nice to—” 

“Stop moving” 

He’s more blunt than she is, already lifting his camera and peeking through the small lens.  (y/n) gets the hint and retraces her steps to fit properly in the frame.

“Better?” She asks, tossing her hair over her shoulder dramatically before posing with a bright smile.

Megumi snaps the photo without warning, although he’s sure that this one will turn out much better than the one she’d taken of him.  For one, she’s smiling, but he’s also certain that she’s much more photogenic than he is.

She’s at his side again as they wander around the patch, fiddling to fit the camera into the pocket of her coat.  It takes him a few minutes to find his courage again, but eventually Megumi clears his throat and tries to spark conversation.

“Gojo used to take a million pictures of me and Tsumiki” 

That seems to be exactly the right thing to say, because (y/n’s) entire demeanor lights up as she looks up at him with wide eyes.

“Really?” She laughs softly at the mental picture.  “Did he keep, like, photo albums and stuff?” 

“Oh yeah,” Megumi snorted, recalling the rows of photo books on the living room bookshelf when he was young.  “Dozens, at least.  It was like he couldn’t commit a thing to memory, always had to document everything” 

When he was young, it was obnoxious to always have a camera shoved in his face.  Now though, he wonders if the crazy bastard still had those albums.

“That’s sweet,” (y/n) muses, wandering off a bit to check out a display of gourds, all varying in shapes and colors.  “I bet there’s tons of embarrassing ones of you, too” She teases. 

Megumi doesn’t give her an answer, instead silently watching as she picks up a large green vegetable with a curly top.  She holds the long end in her hand, before turning to face Megumi with the plump end out, holding it like it was a very deformed gun.

He rolls his eyes at the joke, but just as she looks away, he snaps a photo.

(y/n) seems to not even notice, setting the gourd back on the display and turning back to Megumi to continue their conversation.

“Was he a scrapbook mom?”

He chuckles, and he wants to deny it, but he can’t.  Even if he tried he thinks she’d see through it with how he smiles with all of his teeth.  She’s laughing before he even explains.

“He made one scrapbook, ever,” He tells her.  “And you have to swear to never tell them this,” He adds quickly.  (y/n) doesn’t have to ask to know who he means, and she simply drags her thumb and forefinger over her lips as if to zip them up.  “It took him weeks.  I think the kitchen table was covered in all of his crafts for a solid month” 

“You’re kidding!” She laughs louder, loving the image of her mentor hunched over a table while he glued down photos and ribbon to pretty sheets of paper.

“I wish I was.  I think it’s why he only ever made one,” Megumi shrugged.  “But it’s… a lot.  Every sheet was three dimensional.  The spine of the scrapbook was stretched so wide the thing couldn’t even sit flat” 

He knows that all of the pictures in that book would be embarrassing now.  Gojo liked to document every first— first day of school, first science project, first A+, along with more ridiculous milestones, like when Megumi chopped all of his hair off in the fifth grade and looked ridiculous.  If he remembered correctly, Gojo glued that hair in the book too, as if it were his baby hairs.  That scrapbook really should be burned, but a part of him wishes he could show her now, just to prove how messy it really is.

“I’d do anything to get my hands on it,” (y/n) sighed, almost as if she could read his mind.  “My parents did some stuff like that, but they certainly weren’t obsessive” 

“Obsession is all he knows” Megumi mumbles, and he doesn’t mean to be funny, but she laughs, and it makes his chest feel warm.

“I still think it’s sweet,” She assures him, and then she stops in their slow and aimless walk, kneeling down to tie the shoelaces on her boot.  Megumi waits beside her.  He cared much more for her company than he did seeing the pumpkin patch.  “He probably just wanted to save lots of memories of you guys when you were little.  All parents say it goes by fast” 

She goes to tie the other boot, and Megumi can only stand there in soft surprise.  Sure, deep down he always considered Gojo his parent, because he simply just was.  But no one else referred to their relationship that way, the others always called him teacher or mentor.  But (y/n) must’ve understood that it was more than that.

He’s pulling his camera out again and stealing another quick picture while she was still focused on her shoes.

When she stands, he’s got the camera tucked back into his pocket and an innocent look on his face.

“Want to take a picture over there?” She asks, pointing to the tower of hay bales set up mostly for photos.  Originally it was for children to climb and play on, but it’s purpose was far more often served as a posing station.

Megumi simply nods, and follows her as she races over the tower.  It shouldn’t have surprised him when she started climbing the thing right away.  Surely Nobara had been over here earlier, striking a pose with one hand on her hip and the other on the stack of hay, but not (y/n), who was almost to the top.

“You’re not gonna fall, right?” Megumi asks unsurely as she’s grabbing at the highest bale.

“I’m a trained athlete!” She shrieks back, clearly offended.

“I’m more worried about you destroying the play area” Megumi retorted, his lip curling upwards against his will.  He can’t help but take a picture before she’s settled.  Her hair’s a mess and her limbs are everywhere as she tries to steady herself on the wobbling tower, but it’s a perfect picture nonetheless.

“This is great!” She shouts back at him, before stretching her hands above her head.  “Take my photo like this!” 

It’s silly, it’s childish, but Megumi’s laughing to himself as he snaps a couple.

Somehow she manages to climb down without toppling the entire thing, and they quickly make their way across the pumpkin patch before an employee could scold them for being grown adults playing on the children’s setup.

Megumi finds it easier to talk with her the longer they walk around, aimlessly eyeing pumpkins without committing to picking any out, taking photos here and there, but mostly they just wander around and talk.  Yuji and Nobara seem so wrapped up in the full on photoshoot they were having with each other that it could seem like they’d completely forgotten the other pair, but Megumi didn’t mind one bit.

Hang outs never turned out like this.  Nobara tended to cling to (y/n) like a lifeline.  She was always dragging her off to the next boutique on the strip or game in the arcade or exhibit at the museum— wherever they went, it seemed as soon as Megumi would get a minute of alone time with her, Nobara would steal her away.  It was deflating, but he couldn’t be mad, they were best friends after all.

Today was like a gloomy day miracle.  He almost felt spoiled having the last half hour with her all to himself.  All of her laughter and smiles were only for him.  It warmed up his chilled hands until soon, even the breeze wouldn’t make him shiver.

(y/n) didn’t appear to have the same effect, shaking like a leaf every time the wind picked up.  She always shrank into the collar of her coat and shoved her hands into her pockets, and after a few times, Megumi couldn’t stand to see her freezing.

“Let’s go inside for a bit,” He nodded his head towards the small shop.  (y/n) pouted back at him, before glancing around the pumpkin patch, clearly looking for their friends.  “They won’t be upset that we went inside because we’re cold,” Megumi chuckles to himself, before gently pushing his hand against the small of her back so that he’d follow her.  “I’ll text Itadori” He adds for good measure.

After a moment of hesitation she agreed and walked along with him, but just slow enough that he left his hand on her lower back.  Just because it was nice to be so close to him.

Stepping into the shop was an instant rush of fresh warm air, and she finally felt like she could stretch her fingers.  There was a small bakery inside with only a couple of tables, but without anyone else inside it was perfectly quaint to warm up in.

“I’m going to order a hot chocolate, do you want anything?”

The offer was sweet, but she’s already making her way to the counter, set on a mission as soon as the alluring smell of apples and cinnamon wafted past her nose.

“I could go for a coffee” Megumi hummed as he followed.

He’s ordering for the both of them as soon as a clerk arrives behind the counter, two drinks along with the enormous bear claw in the glass case that (y/n) hadn’t torn her eyes away from since stepping up to the counter.  She tries to fight him when he pulls out his wallet but he’s faster at tapping his card to the reader than she is at hitting him.

Even once they sit down with their drinks and the pastry that takes up most of the table space between them, she argues with him about the payment, and all he can do is shake his head— and maybe smile to himself just a little bit.  After realizing arguing is futile, she decides that as long as he eats some of the bear claw, she can forgive him.

And they continue to chat, about dumb things, about nothing, about everything.  Megumi learns all about the book series that she is reading, along with her plans for getting promoted faster, and that her dream pet is a sugar glider.

“That’s ridiculous,” He mumbles through a mouthful of almond paste and cinnamon.  “When would you ever have the time to take care of something like that?”

“That’s why it’s a dream pet, dummy,” (y/n) rolls her eyes at him.  “Doesn’t have to be realistic.  Don’t you have a dream pet?” 

“I kinda already have a lot of pets” 

“Oh, right,” She laughs to herself, and he thinks he can see a hint of a blush dusting over her cheeks.  Was she embarrassed? He wasn’t sure exactly.  But it was really cute.  “Well if there’s ever a sugar glider shikigami, please summon it for me” She tells him in all seriousness, and Megumi bites his tongue as he agrees to the condition immediately.

He pulls out his camera for the tenth time that day and rests his elbows on the table as he brings it to his face.  (y/n’s) eyes widen before she’s covering half her face with one hand.

“Are you taking a picture of me right now?” She hisses anxiously, before shaking her head at him.

“Duh” He mutters out as he tilts forward and back, trying to find just the right angle of lighting.

“I’m eating—” 

“So? Not like you have food on your face.  Hush.  Go back to eating or something” 

“I am not letting you take a picture of me while I eat” 

“Alright then just sit there then” 

She’s grabbing her paper cup of hot cocoa to use as a shield, but it’s too late.  Megumi clicks the button and she can hear the soft whirring coming from inside the camera.

The lens cuts to black and Megumi pulls the camera away, eyeing the little roll of numbers next to the lens.

“I’m out already,” He says, tossing it onto the table.  “Guess I win” 

(y/n) laughs to herself.

“I didn’t know this was a competition,” She takes a sip of her warm beverage before setting it back down.  “But I can’t believe you finished before me”

“How many do you have left?” 

Curiously, (y/n) pulls the camera out of her pocket and eyes the tape with the amount of film left.  She frowns as she looks back up at him.

“Just one,” She answers, and her frown tilts into a small, soft smile before she asks, “Do you want to take one together?” 

___

Greedily, Nobara snatches the stack of freshly printed photos out of Megumi’s hands.  (y/n) and Yuji are too busy sharing theirs with each other, and Nobara had been dying to know what photos Megumi and (y/n) had taken on their last outing.  By the time the group had met up and gone home, their cameras were already full, and she knew she hadn’t been the subject of a single one of them.

“I swear Fushiguro if these are all dumb pictures of pumpkins, I’ll—” 

But her threat falls short after sliding through the first three pictures.

The first was (y/n) on the path, just standing and smiling.  It wasn’t special, there wasn’t even a pumpkin in the background, but it was cute.

The second was a picture of her crouched down and tying her shoe.  Her face wasn’t even in the picture, her hair was hanging in front of it, but if you squinted you could barely make out the tip of her nose.

Then the third was another candid, where she was pretending to hold a gourd like a gun.

“What the—?” 

Nobara flips through to the next one in the stack, and yet again there’s a candid of her climbing up the side of a hay bale tower.  At least that one captured her smile.  She shouldn’t have been surprised to see the fifth one in the stack was also of (y/n), this time sitting on top of the haystack victoriously

“You’ve got to be kidding me, dude” 

“Okay give them back—!” Megumi tries to grab the stack of pictures from Nobara before she could keep being nosey, but she deflects fast, swiveling to turn away from him and keep skipping through the photos.

He shouldn’t have let her get her hands on them to begin with, but it was too late now.  If he caused too big of a scene, Yuji and (y/n) would notice.  He didn’t exactly want all of his pictures on display.

So Nobara kept flipping.

One was of her lifting up the tiniest of pumpkins— definitely the runt of the whole patch.  It fit in the palm of her hand but she seemed delighted by it.

The next few were just of her walking around, nothing too exciting in the frame.  Just the occasional pumpkin in the background.

There was a decent one taken from inside the shop.  (y/n) was still in the frame but her back was turned as she eyed the glass case of sweets.  Nobara could almost let Megumi off the hook for that one.  Almost.

And then the last photo was of her laughing, the blurry image of a paper cup waving in the space beside her face.  Her eyes are on the camera, so she must’ve known he was taking that picture, but judging by the surprise in her expression, it was easy to conclude she was trying to hide behind that cup.

Once she’d ogled every picture, Nobara finally turned back to Megumi.  Her brows twitched and furrowed, lips parted in shock, not a single word spoken as she handed the stack back to him.  It’s practically shoved towards him, but he doesn’t complain, just snatches them back as fast as he can.

He wants to find a way to quickly and discreetly ask her to keep this to herself, but before he can find the words, she’s gawking at him again.

“Every single one?” Nobara asks in a mutter.

“We hung out the whole time, okay? It's not like—” Megumi tries to defend himself, but it’s no use.  Nobara’s already speaking over him again.

“It’s almost pathetic, dude.  Just ask her out like a normal person” 

His brows almost raise to his hairline in shock.  Here he thought she was about to call him out for being a creep or something.  But no, her disgust only lied in his pathetic pining and lack of action.  Maybe he should have assumed that already.

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything before Nobara’s marching over to Yuji and demanding to see his photos as well.  Megumi’s left reeling from the whole interaction, the humiliation still lingering in his gut.

The feeling remains as (y/n) makes her way to him, her own fresh stack of photos in her hands.  There’s a nervous sort of smile on her face as she glances back at Yuji and Nobara, double checking that they were out of earshot.

“They took that pretty seriously, huh?” Her voice was still low, careful not to draw the attention of their rambunctious friends.  “Yuji takes great photos, don’t get me wrong.  But I think she should pay him for his time” 

There’s some relief in his chest when he cracks a smile, a small laugh coming out.  He could only imagine the quality of Nobara and Yuji’s photos, certainly prepped for instagram.

“I bet she still puts filters over all of them” He mutters back, and (y/n) stifles a giggle behind her hand, but nods her head in agreement.

“Can we leave now or what?” Nobara calls out, already dragging Yuji by the arm to leave the store.  “I want to get boba before home” 

“Boba sounds good,” (y/n) agrees softly.  “Let’s go” 

As the red head continued to drag her friend despite him arguing that he was an adult who could walk by himself, she turned and aggressively whispered something to him.  After her obvious threatening, she glances back at (y/n) and Megumi, which Yuji promptly follows her pointed glance.  Suddenly after that he was upright and speed walking along with her.

(y/n) and Megumi share a baffled look as their friends so blatantly ditch them, but they don’t exactly pick up the pace to follow.

“So, did you get good photos?” Megumi asks, tucking his own away in his pocket.  Foolishly, he hoped if they were out of sight she wouldn’t ask him about them.

“Oh,” (y/n) chuckles nervously, holding her stack of pictures in both hands.  She tilts them towards herself so he can’t see, and Megumi raises a brow at the secrecy.  “It’s kind of embarrassing, actually” She says sheepishly.

Her cheeks flood with color, and Megumi can’t help the curious grin that begins to stretch across his face.

“Embarrassing?” He repeats, sounding horrifically hopeful.  (y/n) sighs, and sticks her arm out, handing him the stack.  He’s quick to take them and start flipping through, eyeing her anxious demeanor in his peripheral vision.

“Yuji’s probably going to tell you anyway.  But… they’re sort of all..” 

His steps slow further after quickly sliding through the bunch of pictures.

The first was at the entrance of the pumpkin patch, with the cute sign with the family name painted on it, and just under it was him.  He wasn’t paying attention, and quite frankly he looked rather bored standing there.  She must’ve taken it while he was still pouting about having to go.

The next photo was of the sparrow poking at the rotted pumpkin, and he had to admit the way she captured it actually was sort of cute.

The third was the photo Megumi dreaded seeing.  He recognized it as soon as he saw himself standing on the thin path of dirt.  He grimaced as he looked closer to see just how bad it was.  But to his surprise, he wasn’t scowling like he thought he’d been.  He was actually smiling.  

Which was odd… he certainly didn’t remember smiling for that picture.  He clearly remembered being upset because he hadn’t tried to look nice for her picture at all.

He glances at (y/n) to gauge her reaction so far, but she was holding her expression at a neutral state, waiting for him to react first.

So Megumi goes back to the photos, and flips to the next one.  Which was… also him.  It wasn’t anything special, just him standing there, but he was smiling a little bit in that one, too.

When the following is also a candid of him with that dumb little smile, he glances over at (y/n) again, raising a brow at her in silent question.

She’s a tough one to crack, but the corner of her lips gives her away as she tries to bite back a smile.  His own smile is unable to be hidden as he flips through a few more photos.

And to his shock and delight, they’re all him.  Him while he was picking up that big pumpkin she dared him to, him while he was drinking his coffee and not paying attention, him just standing and doing nothing in particular, but for whatever reason, she’d used up all her film on capturing it.  

His favorite is the one of the both of them.  She’d given him the camera so he could stretch his arm out and snap the photo selfie style.  They’re sitting at the small table, two paper cups and the enormous bear claw between them, but pushed aside as (y/n) leans across the tabletop in order to better center herself.  She’s grinning from ear to ear, her chin set in one hand while the other holds up a peace sign.  Megumi’s smile isn’t as wide but nevertheless it’s genuine, and anyone looking at the picture would know.  It’s a great picture of the two of them, and he thinks it’s probably the first, too. 

Megumi hadn’t realized he’d gone through the whole stack till he flips to the next one and is met with the first photo, but once he does, (y/n’s) quick to reach out and take them back.  She doesn’t snatch them as aggressively as Nobara had, she handles them gently, careful not to leave an ugly smudge or crease.

Megumi watches with eager intrigue as she tucks the edges together neatly, making the stack smooth in her hands.

“Sorry if that’s creepy— is that creepy?” She turns to him suddenly, full of worry that she’d crossed a line, but Megumi just chuckles, and shakes his head at her.

“Not creepy” He muses, his soft smile remaining as he dips his hand into his pocket, retrieving his own small collection of photos.

He stares at them for an indecisive minute, clenching and unclenching his jaw, working up the courage to make the smallest of gestures.  When he does hold them out to her, he still doesn’t say a thing.  His throat is too dry and hot to even try.  He thinks it would be worse if his voice cracked right now.

(y/n) smiles as she tucks her pictures away in her purse with great care so that she could better look through the pictures he’d taken.  His face flushes with color when she finally takes them from him.  Even the small brush of the tips of her fingers against his has Megumi’s breath catching in his throat.

And he holds his breath as she eagerly slides through the stack of photos.  His throat is far too constricted now to show any sign of life.  He very well could pass out at any moment.  He just hopes she’d leave him there in a heap on the ground.

The relief of the exhale doesn’t come until she begins to giggle.  It’s soft at first, almost under her breath as she continues admiring his photos, but then it erupts into something brilliant and bubbly, as if it was coming out of her uncontrollably.  As lovely as the reaction was, it didn’t do much to ease Megumi’s nerves.  They began to sink their teeth into his heart and gut, and he knew that any minute now, his knees would give out.

When her laughter calms down and she finally looks up at him, the surprise is evident on his features when he sees her colored cheeks and nervous smile.  She hands the stack back to him, and Megumi’s quick to tuck them into his pocket, where maybe he they’d disappear forever, or at least just from the front of their minds.

“That’s pretty cute, huh?” She asks, an aftershock of quiet laughter shaking her shoulders and crinkling the corners of her eyes.  This time, Megumi can’t help the way he laughs with her, but he does duck his head bashfully.

(y/n) thinks it’s all the more cuter, how he resorts to his nervous habit of rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but directly at her.  She wonders if he even knows he’s doing it.  With a surge of confidence, she rocks on her feet.

“Wanna ditch our friends and get lunch or something?” 

He shrugs and nods, thinking anything would be better sustenance than the too-sugary drinks that Nobara had an addiction to.  But the implication of the question dawns on him too late, and suddenly his eyes are widening as he realizes what she really meant.

“You mean— like, a date?” 

It’s so damn cute the way his brows furrow and then raise ever so slightly, waiting without a single ounce of patience for her clarification.  (y/n’s) giggling again as she nods her head, putting him out of his misery.

“Yeah, like a date,” She repeats teasingly.

Megumi nods his head again, this time faster, as if there was a time limit to her offer and he was worried he’d already wasted too much of it.  Her smile brightens and there’s a small but noticeable skip in her step as they head off in a new direction together.

“Now maybe it won’t be so creepy when our friends see those pictures” She says, and Megumi can’t decipher if she’s messing with him or not.  The look he gives her barely hides his panic.

“They’re gonna see them?”

“What do you think they’re talking about right now?” (y/n) retorts, knowing for a fact that Yuji and Nobara were gossiping away about the pair’s photos that consisted only of each other.  

The thought makes Megumi’s face feel hot, and there’s no discretion in the way he tugs at his collar.  The idea makes him nervous, his stomach flipping excessively.  That said, he knew with the amount of gossip those two chatterboxes would generate, there was plenty of time to add a date to today’s agenda.

“They probably won’t even notice we’re gone”

(y/n) nods in agreement.

“They’ll be grateful to have the time for girl talk,” She teases.

With purpose, she steps closer to him so she could link her arm around his, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow and shyly smiling up at him.  Megumi returns the smile, his arm hooking a little further to keep her tucked next to him as close as he wanted.  It was another chilly day outside, but he could almost forget about it with the way her closeness sparked warmth in his chest that flooded throughout his whole body.  He hoped he’d get to do this for the rest of their day—

“So… where do we want to go?”

—and more days to come. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

[hyuckswoman]

mark and you arguing pt2

pt1

genre: angst then fluff

summary: after rain comes sunshine, he finally listens.

pairing: mark x y/n

“good morning” you say to your boyfriend as you pass through the kitchen reaching into a cabinet to take out a glass 

last night had been tense, because of the argument you had a really hard time sleeping, waking up every five seconds. it didn’t help that your boyfriend was the exact same, the only difference between you two being the guilty look on his face

you wanted nothing more than to tell him to forget about it and just cuddle him to sleep because being mad at him or more like emotionally tired wasn’t easy. yes, he fucked up but he’s still the greenest of green flags ever and you just love him too much so being apart with all those angsty feelings was taking a toll on you

but you decided to stand your ground nonetheless, it couldn’t be like every other time where he swooned you with his words and you ended up forgiving him. he had to learn. and even on your end, it’d be fucked up to put yourself through this. so when you woke up this morning with no one next to you, you decided to not care. turns out he was just in the kitchen though

“good morning lovely, i tried to make breakfast, i couldn’t so i went and bought some, your favorite of course, i’m just reheating it right now, juice is in the fridge by the way” your boyfriend greeted you, his back facing you (which you 100% guarantee is because he’s shitting his pants and hopes the tension eased) 

it did not though

“not only did you call me bitchy yesterday, you also said some dumb ass thing about if you were with her.. mark you’re not dumb you damn well that it’s going to take more than breakfast to ease things with me, don’t piss me off so early in the morning please” you said pouring water into your glass, getting out of the kitchen. you and mark took pride in your communication skills, so you weren’t giving him the silent treatment more like you didn’t want to be in the same room as him right now because him acting as if nothing happened pissed you off even more 

the guy was going to have to practically beg for you to be okay with him again 

“..i know, and i’m sorry” mark sighed as he joined you in the living room with the food he bought earlier hoping that despite you not being happy with him, you’d still eat cause no matter how bad the situation is, it’s important to take care of yourself! 

“like i said yesterday, i heard you mark but you know.. actions speak louder than words, until we’ve reached a point where she won’t ever be the cause of a disagreement there’s always going to be some sort of tension” you said as you reached for the food. yes, the food wasn’t an enough apology but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it 

“i know, that’s why i’m going to see her later today, set some real boundaries, tell her off kind of because i do really- and i’m not just saying this to please you or whatever, she has crossed some boundaries that she shouldn’t have so yeah maybe her and i aren’t as close friends as i thought we were” your boyfriend says pouring your favorite juice into your now empty water cup 

first of all, you did appreciate your boyfriend doing all of that (FINALLY!!) but you weren’t going to explode with joy because of him doing the bare minimum 

second of all, your boyfriend is just as much in the wrong as she is. and you debated on telling him that he should also self reflect but decided that you truly wanted him to realize it without you spelling everything out to him 

so you just hummed to the news, finishing up your breakfast heading upstairs while your boyfriend cleaned up and got ready to meet his friend

external pov? 

“hi markie” his friend said as your boyfriend took seat in front of her 

“did i make you wait long?” he replied. despite him not greeting her, her smile grew as she realized he cared about her enough to worry about her time 

“no don’t worry i just got here, anyway you wanted to talk?” she asked in anticipation, it was probably going to be good news (although good news for her meant bad news for you) she hoped your guys maybe broke up or something 

“yea and i’m going to talk for a while so please do not interrupt me” he asked as she nodded eagerly waiting for the breakup news to drop 

“i wanted to talk to you about yesterday, or every single hangout we’ve done ever since i started dating y/n. like i said, y/n and i are dating and i truly think she’s the one so i want to do everything in my power not to fuck it up. and that includes you stepping over boundaries that you shouldn’t step over seeing as though we’re friends. i think last night made me realize how odd? you were around me, how your hands lingered on me maybe a bit too long for a friend, or how you cut off my girlfriend when she was trying to talk, how you made backhanded comments towards her and look, i'm not asking you to like her but she's my girlfriend and she deserves some respect and i'll choose her over you in the blink of an eye. that’s why i’m choosing to put some distance in between us, at least until i’m 100% sure your behavior won’t be the same” mark finishes his rant, his fingers playing with his ring, dreading his (impulsive) friend’s reaction

“ain’t no fucking way you’re being serious right now mark, i’ve known you my whole life and you choose some random girl over me?” his friend says angry that not only you guys are still together but he’s dropping her for..you?? 

“if you don’t have anything respectful to say about y/n i’ll just leave clearly you’re not listening” your boyfriend answers, his patience getting tested 

“no, you don’t get the last word i do. you want to drop me for her? fine. i’ll do fine without you mark but what you cannot do is put the blame all on me. yes, i’ve been inappropriately acting with you but it’s only because you allowed it. each time i thought i was maybe reading too much into the mixed signals you were giving me you reassured me by apologizing because- in your own words - she was being irrational. mark, you are as much to blame as i am and i won’t sit here and let you shift the blame entirely onto me because you allowed me to flirt with you, which is something you would’ve never done if you loved your girlfriend as much as you say you do. and for the first time ever, i do hope you guys break up but not because i want you to myself but because she deserves better than you. fuck you mark” his friend says leaving the café leaving a dumbfounded mark. 

i mean she wasn’t wrong, if he had set clear boundaries from the start she would’ve never flirted with him. your boyfriend started to wonder if that was perhaps the reason why you weren’t THAT enthusiastic this morning when he told you he’d make things right.

so the whole drive home, mark’s head was clouded with thoughts that mainly centered around him being the biggest asshole ever, not only from the words he told you yesterday but also from the way he’s been acting all this time. and it saddened him that he put you through all of that. 

it’s with a heavy heart that he entered your shared house, silently praying god you weren’t going to realize that you do deserve better than him (which he knew was selfish but didn’t care) 

« so… how did it go? i don’t know what you told her but if it’s the same thing you told me this morning I’m guessing she didn’t take it very well » you say watching your boyfriend enter the house 

you guessed it must have went sour judging from the gloomy face he’s making and how deep in thought he seems to be. You didn’t like his friend but you know he liked her very much so you hoped that she said something along the lines of ‘yes i understand and i’m sorry, i’ll respect your boundaries better in the future and i’m hoping we can still be friend’ to salvage their friendship but at the same time you weren’t a fool and you knew that it realistically could never happen 

« it didn’t go super great, we’re not friends anymore but you know in retrospect it’s not a huge loss she wasn’t as good of a friend as i believed she was » you boyfriend started sitting down next to you on the couch 

you wondered what was up with him though, he looked genuinely devastated and it worried you to see him in such state 

« then what’s up? i wouldn’t usually pry and instead wait until you open up to me, but mark i’m concerned you look… sad. and i know we’re in a disagreement right now but i still sincerely believe that you’re the love of my life so i hate to see you upset » you say as your boyfriend slowly lifts his head and looks at you with glossy eyes before his first tear shed 

you immediately hugged your boyfriend rubbing his back as he mumbled through tears about how you deserved better, which you were confused about where it came from, so when his tears quieted down you looked at him waiting to explain

« she just… she said something about how we’re both in the wrong and it upset me because she’s right and she made me realize it instead of me realizing it on my own.. and she said you deserved better and at first i thought whatever she’s just mad i don’t care but she’s not wrong. You deserve better than a boyfriend who lets his friends flirt with him and who dismisses you and acts as if their friend is correct. i’m not trying to victimize myself or manipulate you with my words i’m just really sorry that i’ve been such an undeserving boyfriend and i selfishly don’t want to let you go when maybe i should so, please, give me another chance and i’ll prove to you that i can be the boyfriend you deserve. i swear i’ll be better just please don’t leave me » you boyfriend says. 

you were honestly kind of taken aback by every single one of his thoughts. you did feel a little guilty at first but that quickly went away when you remembered why you guys were in this situation in the first place. 

« listen, like i told you i’m not mad. i was just tired of you not listening to me but it seems like you’ve heard me this time even though i wished it had not gotten that far. i love you and i do not deserve better than you, you fucked up but i fuck up all the time as well and even though i did not picture the end of this situation with me reassuring you, it does not mean that you’re manipulating me, you feel guilty and that’s normal because you messed up but we’ll move past this. it’s a little bump in the road. and i sincerely think that if this situation has taught us anything it’s that we shouldn’t listen to your friend, ESPECIALLY when she says you’re not good enough for me. now dry your big boy tears and let’s go watch a movie yea? all is better don’t worry anymore » you told your boyfriend. 

you really meant your words, everything that mark needed to learn from this he learnt, you knew him well enough to guarantee that you won’t ever be put in a similar situation ever again and that this whole mess kinda made your boyfriend grow up a little? 

plus you were never one to hold grudges, so finally calling this fight over to cuddle and watch a movie with your highly sensitive, still borderline crying boyfriend was quite an easy thing to do. And even though you told him it was okay the next billion times he apologized to you during the following days, it did not stop him from spoiling you with gifts, kind words, actions etc.. like the man shoved all five love languages down your throat and even though it wasn’t necessary, it was always nice and made you feel loved.

that’s why in retrospect, you were (kinda) glad this whole thing happened and he was glad he learnt how to be better for his pretty girl. 

[fallinforerling]

mimi i can’t stop thinking about when y/n comes and visit sthe bellinghams and y/n and jobe hug for too long n jude is just so very… pouty the whole night lmfaooooo then when he drops you off at home he’s so clingy and whiny :c

- bora <3

ps. this used to be erensfavgirly just so you know 😭 you can tag me as roses-arerosies for all ur new fics <3

but you love me more, right? - jb

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s taglist 

ೃ⁀➷ masterlist

ೃ⁀➷ jude’s masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─

Jude was ecstatic once he found out you were able to come with him to England. Visiting his family already had him in a fantastic mood, but now that he knew you were accompanying him, he was over the moon. He knew how well you got along with his family, so once he let everyone know on the group chat, he confirmed all the affection his family had for you with every new text popped up on the screen. 

✉️ Mum ❤: Yay! That’s such great news! 

✉️ Mum ❤: Tell her I’m making her favorite 

✉️ Hey! What about my favorite?

✉️ Jobe: Oh, please. She’s the apple of mum’s eyes, don’t act like you didn’t knew

✉️ Dad: Tell her that I bought new tea flavors for us to try

✉️ I’m starting to think I’m not the main attraction of this visit, am I?

✉️ Jobe: No way! Seriously?

✉️ Jobe: She’s also my favorite

✉️ Dad: Jobe, donʼt be hurtful towards your brother 

✉️ Mum ❤: Canʼt wait to see you both 💕

✉️ Jobe: Tell her I miss her 

He couldn’t help but smile at his brother’s text. It was obvious he had a crush on you; Jude found it funny since it was a little bit cliché, the little brother having a crush on the older brother’s stunning girlfriend. Oldest joke in the books. It wasn’t a big deal anyways. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

He didn’t consider himself a jealous person. At least, not the type of person that would go as far as considering his own brother a menace to his relationship. It was stupid to even consider it anything more than something to joke about. There wasn't a real chance of something actually happening, not only because he was his brother but also because he was younger than both of you. You considered him a little brother, for the love of God.

Nonetheless, it was hard to ignore how long the hug between you two lasted. His brother seemed to be in heaven while holding you tightly, his head basically on your neck, refusing to let you go after a couple of minutes. It was almost funny to see if it weren’t for the unnerving feeling he was getting from it. He didn’t want to sound crazy, but... Was he smelling your hair?

“It’s so great to finally see you!” You said once Jobe let you go. He looked down at you with the biggest of smiles. “And you got so tall! How did this happen?” You pinched his cheeks, treating him as you always did, with care. 

However, Jude’s brain started to overthink, and he was feeling nauseous. Why was he jealous of his own brother? He was being ridiculous, and he knew that. But some things were hard to avoid, and his jealousy was one of them. He tried to fight it as you all moved to the living room, where his mom had prepared a big tray of snacks. 

“So, did you had a good flight?” His dad asked once you were all sitting on different points of the large sofa. You nodded with a smile, receiving a tiny bowl full of your favorite snacks from Jobe, who only had eyes for you. 

“Thank you, honey!” You said to Jobe, who nodded with a slight blush on his cheeks before getting a bowl of his own. “It wasn’t as terrible as I thought. I actually really liked the food they gave us; it was a tasty chicken sandwich. Right, babe?” Your voice woke him up from his daydreaming, making him sigh with guilt for the direction that his thoughts were taking. “Are you tired?” You asked once he didn’t answer right away, rubbing his leg. 

“No, no. I was just distracted for a little bit. But yes, it was a surprisingly good sandwich. She had to talk me into eating it at first, though.” 

You smiled at him, and he couldn’t help but hold you closer to his frame, suddenly hungry for your touch. He didn’t let his mind slip to any other ridiculous thought about jealousy and his brother’s stupid crush on you. He gave his full attention to one of his dad’s stories, making sure to always have you close to him while listening. He knew you were giving him weird looks because this wasn’t his usual behavior around his family, but he didn’t care, he needed to have you next to him for a moment. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Okay, forget about leaving his jealousy thoughts behind. 

Jobe was stepping over an imaginary line that he didn’t know he had marked down since you all entered the kitchen. He was all over your space, but the worst thing was that you didn’t seem to mind. He hugged you by the shoulders, talking about God knows what while giving you the smile he knew very well since he was the one who taught him the smile trick. Was he openly flirting with you, or was he seeing things? Why would he do that in front of him? Why would he do that in general?

When he decided that enough was enough, and that he was going to do something about the situation, Jobe left your side. He saw how you nodded with a tiny smile at whatever he said, still sipping the cup of blueberry tea his dad gave you not too long ago. He saw it as the perfect opportunity to take you away from his brother’s hands. 

“Hello, pretty.” He said once he was near enough to whisper in your ear. You giggled, as every time he startled you, but you immediately turned around to hug him. “I missed you.” Jude returned the hug, closing his eyes once he felt your warmth around him. 

He didn’t know why, but he was feeling the need to be as close as possible to you. Why was he feeling so clingy all of the sudden? 

“Are you okay, babe? You were acting a bit weird earlier.” You said against his neck while rubbing his back distractedly. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He wanted to stop there and just enjoy the hug, but his brain had other plans. “Seems like Jobe missed you a lot.” 

“Right?” You were apparently naive about what he meant by it, since you just smiled. “He’s such a sweetheart, I love him a lot.” 

Okay? Ouch, no need to rub it on his face. 

“But you love me more, right?” He bit his lip, surprised by his own stupidity. Why would he ask something like that? What was wrong with him?

“Are you guys ready for dinner?” His mom interrupted whatever dumb thing he was about to say after what just came out of his mouth. 

“Just a minute, Denise.” You didn’t let him go, hugging his waist a little bit tighter while smiling apologetically at her. He saw the expression on your face, and he knew you noticed what was wrong. 

“That’s alright, I’ll hold your plates for a minute, come when you’re ready.” His mother said, finally leaving you alone. It appears like you weren’t the only one who noticed something strange going on. 

“Baby, are you jealous of Jobe?” You asked it in a serious manner, but your eyes were filled with such amusement that he felt like a little kid that just said something very stupid but very funny as well. 

“No…” You knew him very well, so there was no point in lying, but he did it anyway because admitting something so ridiculous was very embarrassing. 

“You’re so adorable.” You laughed after a moment, taking his face in your hands. “Don’t be silly; why would you be jealous of him? He’s like a little brother to me.” 

“I dunno.” He simply answered, knowing he was being irrational. “He has a crush on you…” 

“He’s your brother, Jude.” You giggled again, kissing his lips shortly. “That’s why you’ve been hugging me all night long?”

“Mmmh.” He felt mortified, so he went for the safest option and hugged you again, trying to avoid your face. You were having too much fun with this new information. “Don’t tell anyone.” 

“Of course I won’t.” You whispered back, silently laughing at his antics. He could actually feel how hard you were trying to hold your laugh. “I really love you a lot, silly jealousy included and everything.” 

“But more than you love Jobe, right?” He asked with hope, still refusing to retrieve his head from your neck. 

“Yes, Jude. More than Jobe.” You laughed loudly, not being able to keep it down anymore. 

“What’s up with me?” Jobe said, entering the kitchen, clueless about the subject of your chat. 

“Nothing!” He quickly said, not letting you give away anything that happened seconds ago. If it was bad that you already knew about the jealousy thing, it would be hell if his brother found out. “Dinner’s ready.” 

“Okay? Well, let’s go eat it then? Stop asphyxiating her with your love, she’s got enough of that already.” He knew Jobe was just messing with him, but he had to bite his tongue and resist the urge to say something along the lines of “Well, she’s my girlfriend, not yours!” but that would be too childish, even for him. 

So he just stayed silent and followed his brother into the living room, still giving him annoyed looks that were received with pure confusion. You just rolled your eyes and whispered to him to keep it down. 

Needless to say, even though he acted normally, refusing to let his childish side win, he still felt like he needed to create some space between you and Jobe. He insisted on sitting between both of you, keeping a hand on your tight at all moments, which resulted on you casually laughing or giving him loving looks that just made sense to him, the rest of the family weirdly looking at each other. He made up an excuse after an hour or so, saying you two were so tired from the flight and you needed to head to the hotel, but in reality, he just wanted to cuddle with you and have you all to himself for the rest of the night. You just let him be, still messing around while giving him head scratches to help him fall asleep. 

He guessed that jealousy just turned him into a clingy mess, but you seemed very okay with it, so what was the matter? 

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *  JUDE'S TAGLIST

@mentalbaddie | @taintedstranger | @mrs-dasilvasantoss | @mbapbaesluvr | @roses-arerosies | @cinderellawithashoe | @yoitsmo07 | @seajjin | @kakuchosbff | @peterparkerbae | @alwaysclassyeagle | @itsjuspenny-blog | @lbsmainblog | @youngjayla | @freetimemachinequeen | @chaeryeongstuff | @lazyreadergirl | @trentismine | @ironmaiden1313 | @wavessmile | @jul1ettt | @daydream-er | @citrusjunosart | @pierre-gasssllyy | @avianawrites | @topguncultleader | @blahhhhhbleeplop | @ricsaigasalec

[hazbinhazmeinachokehold]

Hey! So I really liked your child + overlords, and I’ve been watching too many horror movies lately, so I was thinking; what if a kid like Samhain (Sam from “Trick r Treat”) was the kid.

He’s not even an overlord but how would they be with him when he clearly likes them, he shares candy with them, follows them around, and likes to cozy up with them. (especially since he’s as old as hallow’s eve itself and still kinda acts like a child, but never had a caretaker or someone to consider family) But when someone tries to hurt them, Sam does something super horrific to their attacker that would even creep Alastor out? But then he goes back to the lovable Sam that they know but what’s their reactions?

A/n: I haven’t watched Trick or Treat, so I based off a few clips I watched. Also by attacked them, I assume you mean the overlord? I’m so sorry if not!!! :( 

!!!not proofread!!!

Alastor: Very intrigued by you. Which, knowing Alastor is the reason he was nice to you in the first place, which spiraled into friendship. You were unnaturally cuddly. Which Alastor would usually hate, but, for some reason, he didn’t mind with you. Also, you kept giving candy? He wasn't entirely sure where you kept getting it because the hotel didn’t have any, but it was a sweet gesture nonetheless. One day both of you were going for an evening stroll. Until some, to put it frankly, idiot, attacked Alastor. Well tried to at least. Most people couldn’t get a scratch on him and this was no exception. What was different this time was that it was him who drew screams out of the sinner.  Instead, you, sweet, kind, you, were the one responsible.  You ended up disturbing Alastor, which is hard to do, so good job!  But after you were done you reverted back into your innocent self. Has a new reason for why he likes you after that day.

Rosie: I mentioned this in my overlord post but, mother figure. She will give you candy as well! (Just don't eat it if you're not a cannibal) She’ll make sure she always has time for you. And even when she is spending time with others she is not opposed to you tagging along. You and she had just bought some candy and were on your way back to cannibal town. You and Rosie were having a lovely conversation before someone tackled Rosie to the ground. She was able to push them off rather fast before you jumped in. Rosie was kinda shell-shocked. But despite how eldritch horror-esque the scene was, she was used to this because of Alastor. She was more surprised that it was you of all sinners. After you were done you turned back into your nice self. Tbh she doesn’t really care, she treats you the same. 

Vox: I’m going to be honest with you bestie he doesn’t like you at first. He didn’t hate you or anything, just didn’t particularly care for you. That being said, you do grow on him. He doesn’t eat the candy you give him (weirdly enough he can though. We see him eat popcorn in the final.) I don’t know bro just isn’t going to eat candy some random kid gave him from who knows where. Also, you're always in the ads. it wasn’t on purpose at first but soon he would just casually hold you in the ads, he never mentions it though. One day he’s going to film an ad and you are tagging along as you always do. When somebody tries to attack Vox with a bat, but they were stopped in their tracks by you. Vox just stared at horror and amazement as you made the sinner pay. After the horror wears off the dude is amazed. If you weren’t friends before you are now. Despite the fact that you’re, y’know, a child, he kind of uses you for scary dog privileges.

Velvette: Surprisingly accepting of you. Would probably post pics with your candy and cuddling with you. She does just straight up like you even without social media. Velvette is the youngest overlord which makes her a pretty easy target. So while it wasn't a surprise for her to get attacked how you responded was. Out of instinct, she starts recording not just to post it, I mean yes that too, but also to make sure what she was seeing was real. Which was especially needed after you went back to your cutesy self. Despite how unbelievable it was she was pretty indifferent at the end of the day. Will ask you if you can do that more for photos though.

Carmila: New mother part 2. Though admittedly she isn't one for cuddles or candy. She does take it and cuddle to make you happy. Very protective of you. You are kind and she doesn't want you to get hurt, thankfully she doesn't have to worry about you. Someone attacking the overlord who makes weapons isn't wise, but as you’ve probably learned by now, messing with someone you care about is even more stupid. She wants to stop you but also doesn't want to hurt you or get herself in the crossfire. But hey now she knows you can protect yourself. Maybe even against an exorcist without angelic metal because holy fuck. Anyway, now she trains with you.

  (A/n: Bro Tumblr fucking deleted this when I was ¾ done with it.)

[setsugekka]

❥déjà rêvé (m)

↳ When your best friend marries her stuffy, stuck-up, long-time boyfriend, you swallow your feelings and put your reservations aside to support her...

...and when your erotic imagination takes hold of you one night in relation to him, you’re thankful for the fact that your friend is able to laugh it off.

Unfortunately, you’re not able to let it go as easily.

kim doyoung x fem!reader — enemies to lovers, friends with benefits, gratuitous sexual content, porn with plot [17.7k wc] cws: open relationship, alcohol consumption, social smoking. sexual content: bdsm-heavy!! dominant doyoung, submissive reader, unprotected penetrative sex (v+a), oral sex (m+f), gratuitous dirty talk/degradation/humiliation, cum play/facials/wet&messy, deep throating, safe word usage, ravishment play, infidelity play, spit play, doyoung has a big dick and fucks like a pornstar.

Seven years.

 Watching as your best friend now sat in glee as hired hair and makeup help dart around her to make sure that every strand, every eyelash be perfectly in place for her big day, you realize that now, after so long, it's difficult to even really recall the first few times that she started bringing him around. You remember the first night she mentioned him — a careful slide of a photo of him into the group chat, followed by the usual 'he looks better in person' commentary — although hilariously unnecessary given that the man stunning even back then.

You did, however, wish that his looks had translated more into his personality.

Unfortunately, it was no mystery the way that you and Doyoung did not get on. Never culminating into blow-out fights, or a need to pick sides, or even the ruining of an evening or vacation: But it was there. Petty jabs and comments slung about, backhanded slips of the tongue coming from either side at a moments notice — something that, earlier on, came to be of much contention between you, Mina, and her now husband-to-be. Over time, however, with the relationship growing, evolving, and coming to terms with the fact that this man most likely to remain in your life for as long as Mina would be, you decide on doing the only thing that a good, supportive, friend can do in such circumstances.

After all, you weren't the one marrying him, and thank fuck for that.

  "How do I look?"

Nearly tear-filled eyes looking up at you through the reflection of the mirror as you stand behind your best friend of a decade and more, you offer a tight-lipped smile back to her — in an effort to keep it together, really, you'd rather not cry your makeup off, as well.

"You look amazing, he's lucky," you begin genuinely before switching to a more playful tone. "And he better remember that, because I'll be watching."

With a sway of her hand, Mina shoos you away equally playfully and laughing through the fact that she was surely just about to start crying. "This long and you guys are still like this, are you ever going to get over it?"

"Is he ever going to stop being a pretentious douche? Because all signs point to 'no.'"

Cocking her head as if to say 'give me a break,' your bestie sighs audibly at the much anticipated response from you in regards to the matter.

"He's a good man."

You nod. "I know. He's good to you and, well — good enough to me, so I'll allow it, I suppose."

Would you choose to spend time with Doyoung if not for Mina; if not for the fact that he be obviously and irrevocably in love with her and treat her as such every moment of everyday? No.

But the rest of it sort of makes up for that fact.

One of the perks of having Kim Doyoung around is the money.

Of course, Mina doing well enough for herself that she need not rest on the laurels of a man, but marrying this one be far from a bad choice as far as financials go. A hard worker all through high school and college and landing a fancy, high-paying career gig straight out — only a few weeks after the wedding, the two bought a house together — an expensive, modern home a little bit on the outskirts of the city but not too far away as to make it inconvenient, glass paneling, black marble, and perfectly shined platinum stainless steel; the first time entering it, you can't help but think how it's precisely what one would expect upon being informed of the kind of money and stature that Doyoung has.

'New money,' they call it, and with it comes a certain expectation of being a prick, apparently.

The positives of all of this, of course, include that the man work long hours, and thus, you're free to be over without having to see much of him.

And thank God for that.

 "Drink?"

Already reaching up and into one of the white and glass cupboards just above as she calls out the question, you answer back a simple "sure" as she continues bringing down two, large, red wine glasses that you're almost certain cost far more than any reasonable person would pay for cups.

"Doie brought these back from Portugal the last time he went on business, apparently they're one of a kind, handmade."

"I swear to God every time you call him that I get the most intense case of sudden indigestion. No relation, though. I'm sure."

The same playfully annoyed cock of her head that you're used to seeing every time the man comes up into conversation, the both of you chuckle as she sets two glasses down onto perfectly shined marble countertops in front of you.

"There's like, thirty bottles of wine down here and I don't know what's fancy or not," Mina begins, already squatting down in front of the wine storage just beneath (and of course, something that Doyoung personally had built into the kitchen during renovations). Popping back up and grabbing her phone from across the shining table, "Let me ask him."

Only a few seconds of the phone ringing, the line is answered and you hear that all too familiar and also irritating voice come through. "On a work call, what's up, babe?"

You roll your eyes, it's nearly automatic. Mina slaps the marble in front of you like she's trying to dissuade a cat from something.

"We want to open a bottle of wine but I don't know what we can and can't have, so give me a name of something, quick."

"You can have anything you want," The man on the other end coos back. You sort of wish this conversation wasn't happening on speaker phone.

Rolling her eyes, Mina chuckles back at him. "You said some of these bottles are like, three hundred dollars."

"And? Let me know how it is, gotta-go-love-you-bye—" Doyoung sing-song's into the phone before cutting the line completely. You watch the way a grin takes your best friends face at the short but sweet conversation that has only just transpired and it reminds you that all things considered, and all personal feelings about the man aside, they're absolutely, remarkably in love with one another.

As if momentarily forgetting the fact that you're even there, in favor of daydreaming about her husband, Mina finally comes back down to the expensive kitchen with you. "He's so annoying."

"Yeah, I can tell that's totally how you feel about him right now," You respond with obvious sarcasm.

About an hour and a half later and two glasses of whatever accidentally expensive wine your friend has chosen, you're a little disappointed when you hear the familiar voice of The Husband coming down the stairs and slowly making his way into the kitchen.

Of course, and again: You don't hate him, but he always has some shit to say.

Finishing up a work call as he comes around the corner — gray sweatpants and a black, oversized sweatshirt with hair only a tiny bit disheveled and probably due to it being the end of the night for him finally, you watch intently as he leans against the large, stainless steel refrigerator — briefly making eye contact with you as he says goodbye to whatever late night client happens to be on the other end of the line.

With a heavy sigh, Doyoung outstretches his arms. "Finally, freedom."

"Until tomorrow—" Mina adds with a quick peck to his cheek as she hands him a glass of wine as well. The reminder unfortunate, wiping any joy from the mans features in an instant. "—Yes, until tomorrow."

Then, his eyes catch towards you. Bringing the rim of the glass to his lips, the words slip out just before he takes a sip. "And what about you? Do you work?"

Always something to say.

"I do!" You quickly quip back. "I work normal people hours, like most people do."

"I don't think hanging out with my wife is a job."

"Doie!" Mina huffs with a playful slap to his chest.

"I assure you, you don't have to be concerned about my working hours," you begin, taking another sip from your glass before setting it down onto the counter next to you. "At least I won't look seventy years old when I'm thirty, like some people."

"Ooh—" he plays along, eyes narrow as if you've almost got him on the losing side of the banter. "That may be true, but I'll still be rich, and I'll still have a sexy wife."

"Please spare me, I choose not to acknowledge that there is any sexual relationship between the two of you at any given moment in time."

Finishing off his glass and taking a step forward to set it down next to yours, he offers you a thin-lipped grin, as if accompanying it with his sympathies. "And I'm sure that's not a result of projection, at all. Anyway, have a good night, you two, I'm off to bed."

With a quick kiss to Mina and another tip of his head towards you, the man is off and back up the stairs.

Well enough out of earshot, your eyes shoot back to your friend. "Did he just imply I'm not getting fucked?"

She shrugs. "Are you?"

Scoff falling from your lips, you press the point of your index finger out and towards your bestie. "I was just out with that guy last week, remember?"

"And how did that go?"

"It was terrible, but that's not the point—" you answer dryly, as if it be the simplest thing in the world. "—The point is, I get dick, regardless of how questionable the quality may be."

Chuckling, Mina comes around to pick up the glasses and set them next to the sink. "I'll be sure to let him know, then."

"Please don't," You groan in response.

Long, thin, fingers wrapped around your wrist as you're quickly shuffled down the familiar, dimly lit hallway of their shared marital home before your back suddenly finds pressure against the cool wall — legs pulled apart to make room for his hips as you feel the all too familiar burn of being pried apart with not enough prep for such endeavors — enveloped suddenly by broad shoulders and a hard chest held firm against your own as you bite back the moan that threatens to echo down and against the walls, your fingers finding purchase in the fabric of such shoulders as they dig in to match the feeling of being taken so thoughtlessly, relentlessly.

"How do I feel?"

A rhetorical question of sorts, knowing that he can hear and feel the way you fall apart beneath him already and with such little effort on his end — one hand coming up between the wall and the back of your head to curl fingers into you hair and tug roughly on the strands as you hiss into a mouth just centimeters away but not quite touching your own. "God, how long have you wanted this?"

 Waking up in the morning, you don't recall many of the details — instead, living now with the irritating knowledge that you've had a sex dream about one man in particular that you wouldn't wish sex with onto your worst enemy.

Of course, it will pass — as things like this always do. It's just a dream, after all.

Right?

Wrong, regrettably.

Worse than having the dream itself, you think over the next few days, is the way that it simply won't leave you alone. Any moment of downtime in your thoughts now plagued by the memory of a certain best friends husband fucking you against the wall of their newlywed home — it's far from ideal, and for a plethora of reasons that don't necessarily need to be explained. And yet.

But, you know enough about Mina, and your friendship with her, that if you can confide in anyone about having a sex dream about their husband to get it off of your chest, it's her.

Sitting outside of a bougie cafe just down the street from Mina's work building as you wait for her to join you with legs crossed and a mimosa on the table in front of you, as you stare at the menu in an attempt to focus on what it is that you'll be ordering for lunch once your friend arrives, the words still find their way floating through your mind with no prompting, and a little bit too much ease.

 "God, how long have you wanted this?"

 "So long!" The familiar voice of your friend from just behind you pipes up and jars you from your thinking — and thank fuck for that, because any excuse not to be brought to that place is a good one, as far as you're concerned. "Took me so long to find parking here, I don't know why we always insist on coming to this place."

"Because it's central to both of us," you answer with a tone that says that this should be obvious. "Besides, you're always the one that wants to come here."

"What can I say, hot sandwiches here are amazing—" pausing the thought to flag down the wait staff, you place the menu down on the table and rub your eyes with the flat of your fingertips as her attention falls back to you. "—Do you know what you want to order? Wait, what's wrong with you?"

"Yes," you reply to the first question, only to hesitate on the second. "Nothing, tired. Work's been killing me."

"Aw, and Doie said that you don't work," She offers, a comforting tone that only offers the opposite with the addition of the pet name to her lover. Her husband.

"Can we not talk about that man?"

A questioning cock of her head and curiosity piqued, Mina smiles with narrowed eyes. "...Why? Did he say something else? You know, he's only joking—"

"No," you firmly cut her off with a wave of a hand as the waiter returns with a drink for her and an exasperated sigh from you. "He didn't say anything else. He's just...exhausting."

"You don't even know the half of it. I live with him," Mina cheerfully retorts as she takes her drink into hand.

 No, you don't even know the half of it.

 Allowing your friend to do a good bit of the rambling through lunch as you slowly make your way through your salad — you try to put it out of your mind just as much now as you have since that night — unfortunately, the very presence of the woman married to said man in question causing the thoughts to be just that much more at the forefront of your memory.

With a fork between teeth, Mina finally stills mid-sentence and glares at you through perfectly made up, long, eyelashes. "Alright, what the hell is up with you today?"

 Yes, you were busted, but if you were honest, you had every intention of telling her about it, anyway.

 With a groan and a roll of your eyes, you finish chewing through your lettuce before setting your own utensils down at the edge of the plate and dramatically falling back into your chair — a reluctant acceptance of defeat at the hands of your best friend. All perfectly pressed business suit and perfectly structured black hair that her ever so doting husband no doubt pays for to have her take care of.

This is so annoying.

"Well!?"

"Okay, okay, don't rush me, geez—" you cut her off with palms in the air. Allowing silence to once again fall between you — nothing more than the busy bustling of the street nearby and the other patrons of the restaurant around you — you sniffle sharply, now having accepted that this is a conversation that's definitely going to happen.

Her being upset, or angry, not something you're concerned about — rather, just the humiliation of having to admit it (and the way that it's lived in your mind ever since.)

"Have you ever — had a dream about someone else's partner?"

Visibly taken aback, and physically so as Mina jolts into her chair at the question, a chuckle falls from her lips as she just as quickly takes a sip from her tall glass again. "Are you kidding? I've banged Karina's man like, three times unconsciously."

The fast and honest reply has you nearly choking on the sip of drink you had mirrored her in taking.

"It's just a dream, it's not like we have any control over it. Why? Whose man dug you out?"

 Silence.

 Mina's eyes glued to your face as you bring your glass up to your lips again and pull your own line of vision as far from hers as you can manage without actually turning physically — you hate the way you can literally see as the knowledge finally dawns on her with how her teeth quickly begin to peer through the grin that plasters across her face.

"Stop—" she first says.

"Don't—" you respond just as quickly.

"—No way." She finishes with a gasp.

You immediately plant your face into the flat of your palms with an affirming groan.

And thus, your best friend does what anyone would do upon finding out that her friend had a sex dream about her husband: Let out the most annoying, boisterous witch-cackle that a single woman could possibly muster.

When her laughter finally dies down enough to manage in some breaths for an attempt at speaking, Mina takes another sip of her drink through tight lips that are quite evidently still trying to pull back the smile that she wants so badly to let pull across her features. "Well," she quietly begins. "How was it?"

"Really?"

"Just curious how fantasy matches up with reality, that's all."

Rolling your eyes at her curiosity, you can't help but make an attempt to pull the embarrassment from you, and onto the man in question. "I'm sure I was doing him the favor. It wasn't thirty seconds of missionary while he told me about finances so he should be thankful for that much."

Snorting through her nose, Mina's eyes drop down to her mostly-eaten sandwich before her. "Is that what you think it's like?"

"I simply do not think about it at all, actually."

"Evidently, that's not the case."

 With more silence coming between the two of you, now Mina is the one that cuts through it with an all too pointed, proverbial knife.

 "Do you want to fuck him?"

 Sputtering through more salad as the words enter your line of hearing, before you have a chance to answer, Mina amends the statement — as if she can read your mind. "Before you say 'no,' really think about it."

And so, you do. Quietly mulling over all of the possibilities, the thoughts that this bring to your mind — not limited to and especially the recollection of the dream — more than anything, it's a reminder that you don't actually even really like this man. You don't enjoy his company, and you don't particularly enjoy conversing with him. The purpose that Doyoung serve in your life be uniquely in relation to him being the perfect, most amazing husband to Mina.

And how this might be precisely how you ended up here to begin with.

But what this really brings to question is one very pointed, very particular thing:

"A-are you asking me if I want to have sex with your husband...with intention of granting me permission to do so?"

The woman across from you shrugs, calling the wait staff over again for another drink. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, one thing at a time. So, do you?"

Feeling a bit like a taboo, kinky carrot being dangled in front of your face — you know Mina well enough to know that she wouldn't be asking this in an attempt to set you up — to get upset with you, to drive a wedge between your friendship.

If she's asking, it's because she's genuinely curious, and has other such genuine intentions, as well.

Clearing your throat and blinking away the awkwardness in the fact that you're really about to answer this honestly: You could lie — pretend that it hasn't been stuck on your mind ever since, pretend that you haven't been fantasizing about him, and in a particularly low moment, cumming to the thought of him — but really, what good will that do you, now?

In fact, even just the conversation now bringing back the dull ache between your legs. Humiliating the power the subconscious can have over us.

"I mean," you quietly start with a shaky, unsure tone. "Yeah. Yes, I guess."

"I know, he's sexy, right? You wouldn't expect it but there's something about him—"

Your best friend regrettably far too accepting of this conversation topic.

"Look, it's not a big deal, I'm not like — dying for it," you cut her off suddenly, mostly in an attempt to deter the conversation from any more detail about that something about the man. "It's just like...in theory, you know, something about that angry, 'I don't like you, you don't like me' type of arrangement makes for a good fantasy but of course, it's just that."

"Right," she snorts again and into the glass pressed to her mouth. "Just that."

 Ten minutes later and with the check for lunch paid by the credit card of a particular husband, with Mina hurrying to gather her things on account of being late back to work — she hugs you quickly with one arm slung around you before rushing off the other way — but not before turning just as suddenly and whispering a little too loudly for your comfort given the people around.

"Look, obviously I can't make him fuck you, but I'll run it by him. I'll let you know. Cheers, babe!"

Great.

"Babe, come to bed!"

Tone whiny and pleading as she kicks her feet from beneath the covers of their shared, King sized bed, Mina groans into the pillow expectantly in anticipation of her husband joining her for a cuddle and a conversation.

Although, mostly the conversation, this time.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" Doyoung chimes back from their white and gold accented bedroom, toothbrush shoved into his mouth as he peeks his head out through the doorway just before spitting into the sink. "Pushy, aren't you?"

"One of the many things you love about me."

As he saunters towards the side of the bed, all too aware of his surroundings and even more than that, the mischievous grin pulled across the lips of his beloved wife — eyes narrowing with suspicion, he slows his movements just ever so slightly before finally crawling into bed next to her and meeting beneath the sheets. "Why do I have a feeling you're not just looking to snuggle up with your wonderful husband, tonight?"

"Aw, Doie, don't be like that—" Mina whines, wrapping her arms around his and pulling her body against his as he flips through channels on the television against the wall in front of them. "—I had lunch with my bestie today."

Glancing out of his peripheral towards her, Doyoung hums inquisitively, as if unsure of what this has to do with him but anticipating that he's going to find out. "That's good. How is she?"

"She's good," every word coming out like she's singing a song — one made up of no-good and trouble — charming in her tone. "Although, she's had a lot on her mind, lately — so to say."

Pausing, the man shifts just slightly in place as he finally settles on a channel and sets the remote control down between the two of them. "And why do I have a bad feeling about what that means?"

Lips gently beginning to decorate the exposed skin of his shoulder and arm, Mina smiles into them just before the words finally leave her. "She had a dream about you."

"Okay?"

Slow on the pick-up.

This time, she delivers the information a bit more pointedly. "She had a dream about you."

"Oh," he says quietly at first, until the fact of the matter finally, truly, dawns on him. "Oh."

A squint and a frown now, Doyoung's head turns quickly towards his wife.

"And she told you this?"

Mina nods.

"You both are a little too close."

"Well?" She finally offers up the question at hand, lips still innocently peppering across her lovers skin. "What do you think?"

"Are you asking me if I want to fuck your best friend? How would this work, anyway? It's not as if we even get on all that well—"

"I think that's part of it for her."

"—Kinky minx."

Slowly pulling from Doyoung and groaning into a long stretch of her limbs as if settling in for slumber, she smiles again. "It wouldn't be the first time, anyways."

"Yeah, but never friends," he says, rubbing his palms over his face as if a little taken aback by the topic of conversation as a whole. "—I mean, I'm down, you know her better than I do — if you think she can handle it."

"We'll have the discussion later, I wanted to run it by you, first."

Reaching a hand over to his wife, Doyoung pulls her by the arm back over and against his torso with a kiss to the top of her head as she settles her face into the crook of his neck.

"My little liaison," the man chuckles into her hair lovingly. "You just wanna hear about all the dirty little details after the fact, don't you?"

Pulling back to meet eyes with him, a scrunch of her nose and a giggle gives Doyoung all of the answer he would ever really need.

"What can I say? Everyone wins."

Two glasses of wine poured and the both of you sat next to one another on the large and undoubtedly far too expensive plush couch of the living room — a certain comfort of being only in the company of your best friend — it brings you back to so many other instances like this through the years of your friendship, curled up on far less luxury items but sharing all of the intimate details of your loves and lives, as the closest of friends tend to do.

Tonight, however, would offer a bit of a different experience. You're prepared for it, suppose, as much as you possibly can be, given the circumstances at play.

 "He's not home, is he?" You question suddenly, Mina tucking her legs under the rest of her with glass in hand as she situates herself to be facing you. A smile and a chuckle, she shakes her head. "No, it's just us."

Exhaling a sigh of relief at the option of being walked in on by the very topic of conversation not being on the table, you allow yourself at least a tiny bit more of comfort with the affirmation.

"You're going to have to be honest with me," Mina begins, one corner of her lips tugging upwards. "I can only relay to him what you tell me, and he's not going to freestyle it, either, so—"

You take a much larger swig from your glass than previously had, nearly finishing off the contents of it.

"—Tell me what you want."

"Another glass of wine, for starters."

Snorting, your best friend leans towards the table to grab the bottle into hand, tilting it towards your glass and filling it all over again. "You don't have to be uncomfortable, like I said, it's not really the first time we've done this."

"Yeah, news to me," you sigh with a bit of shock cutting through it. "All these years and I never knew."

Shrugging, Mina sets the bottle down again before settling into place all over. "People tend to assume monogamy among couples, we just allowed them to do so. Not as much of a stick in the mud as you thought he is, huh?"

Choosing not to acknowledge that fact, you take another sip of your wine, waiting for the topic of conversation to shift to something that is — effectively the same topic, but more in pertinence to you, specifically.

"So, tell me."

A sharp inhale, you know that you don't have to go through with this: You can just as easily call the whole thing off and pretend that none of this has ever happened — and that the both of them would happily carry on with their lifestyle all the same — but the unshakable lust for the man now deeply imbedded within you, like an itch that's otherwise impossible to scratch — an offering to have it when under most other circumstances it would have to remain as a dull, silent ache only left to you and your own devices, as it were.

 A little too sweet of a deal to turn down, you find. Not God's strongest soldier, it seems.

 "I don't — I don't want him to all of a sudden pretend like we're best friends and that we get along perfectly," you begin cautiously and with eyes darting up towards your friend with every passing of every word. "I want it to feel natural, to feel real, so—"

"You want him to fuck you like he hates you?"

Laid out so simply, the idea of it makes your throat dry, but you nod all the same. "Yeah, yeah I guess so."

"Let me tell you something," your friend begins as she shifts into a more comfortable position with one leg out and over the side of the couch. "What's always been a little funny to me with your preconceived notions about how Doyoung is in bed — he's actually quite...intense."

"What does that mean?"

"He likes to be in control, there's a bit of a dominant streak in him."

Hearing the words, the math starts coming together in your head about the way the man carries himself, the way he works, and just the way he is in general — you're not quite sure how the idea never dawned on you, perhaps too wrapped up in all of the ways that you find him insufferable and a bore, it only natural to assume the same of his abilities.

Before you have a moment to focus on the ache between your thighs, your friend continues on.

"Does that...sound like something that would interest you?"

Swallowing down your pride along with your arousal, you nod until the rim of your wine glass.

"Well, that's easy enough, then," Mina scoffs with a casual roll of her eyes, as if she had almost been hoping for it to be a bit more of a challenge for him to fulfill the role asked of him. "In that case, what's off limits?"

 For some reason, you hadn't bothered to think that far ahead. Your friend notices as much.

 "For what it's worth, there will be a safe word, so even if you agree to anything now or later or any time, really, you don't have to go through with anything if you're no longer having a good time."

Eyes widening at the concept of needing a safe word, you swallow hard. "That intense, huh?"

"It's up to you," she continues on. "It's not just for when things get wild or out of hand, hell, you can use it if you're just in the same room as him. Have you—" She pauses inquisitively, suddenly questioning whether or not this is a good idea at all. "—Done anything like this before?"

But hearing the reluctance in her tone, you nod quickly. "Yeah! Yes, not with...my best friends husband, though."

A cute grin across her face, Mina laughs with a coy flick of her wrist. "Don't get so caught up on that. He's my husband, yes, and for all intents and purposes very much still will be for the sake of the scene, but even more than that, he's here to fill a role — he knows that very well."

"Are you going to be involved?" You ask suddenly, the question only now popping into your mind. Your friend laughs.

"No, I mean, he'll tell me about it afterwards but I won't be like...planning scenes with him, or anything. Whatever he has in store for you — well, that's between the two of you, until after it happens, of course."

"Okay."

Taking a sip of her glass and glancing up at you through eyelashes, she brings the topic back around again. "So, no hard limits?"

"Piss play, shit play—" you quietly begin to list off before Mina stops you. "Okay, he's not into any of that either. I mean more along the lines of; name calling, degradation, humiliation, general rough-housing."

Even just thinking about partaking in half of those things with the man in passing sending a shiver down your spine, you shake your head. "I—I don't think so, maybe start slow, though."

"I'll let him know, again, don't be afraid to tell him to stop in the moment if he gets a little too carried away. He's a good dom."

'He's a good dom.'

What an absolutely perplexingly arousing set of words in succession.

Leaning back finally with your shoulders pressed to the couch, you exhale heavily with eyes high to the ceiling above as your friend mirrors your movement — but instead, with a bright smile pulling across her red, wine-stained lips.

"This is going to be so fun."

Part of the fun, you come to find, is the not knowing.

Even with rules, and safe words, and all of the parties involved very much having come to an understanding of the ins and outs of such an endeavor, the truth of the matter was this: You had no way of knowing when, or what, Doyoung has in store for you.

It's a little bit of risky play, too, at the core level. The fact that the two of you not be explicitly exchanging words among yourselves in order to maintain a certain sense of authenticity to the scene (far from unusual, in the kink world), but new to you, and most definitely requiring a level of trust among all people involved. Far from your favorite person, sure, but you trusted him — and that's far and away what a scenario like this require in order to make it run without a hitch.

And so the question runs constant at the forefront of your mind as you stand in front of your mirror, getting ready for the couples housewarming party: Are you going to fuck your best friends husband tonight?

Stemming from that very simple question, of course, comes a plethora of others: What should one wear? Is it too presumptuous to assume as much? What if it's just a normal evening party and you're completely out of your element in thinking he would fuck you tonight? Do you want to fuck him tonight?

Unfortunately, the answer to that one is an easy yes.

One of the rules being simple enough: The arrangement ends once you and Doyoung have penis in vagina sex — that considered to be the 'goal,' which then only begs the question of how much is the man intending to put you through before even getting to that point?

Or is he to get it done and over with as quickly as possible, instead?

Glancing into the reflection of the mirror and towards a simple, three-quarter sleeve black dress that hands down fitted to the knees, you think it sexy but not too sexy. Just sexy enough. The right amount of sexy.

Let's not appear too excited, after all.

  "Darling, you made it!"

Mina's voice ringing through the kitchen in a faux-french accent as she pours wine for a couple of friends — handing you a glass, she kisses your cheek before pulling away to look you up and down. "You look ravishing, my dear."

God, you hope so.

You find, however, that now that you're here, it's a bit more awkward than anticipated. Man of the hour no where to be found just yet, but unable to stop looking over your shoulder in an attempt to locate him — you sort of hope that your friend be all too preoccupied with the other guests to catch wind of just how hungry for this you may actually be.

Side pressed against the cupboard, you feel the nudge of someone attempting to open it, and turning in an instant to move yourself from out of the way, you're not at all prepared to meet the narrow, dark eyes of the man you're meant to — whatever, with — at some point in time.

You think that your stomach falls out of your ass right then and there.

"Look who showed up! You do take your job of being my wife's friend very seriously, after all."

"Doie! Don't start, it's not even ten o-clock yet!"

 It's almost bizarre to you the way that things carry on with such normalcy, given all of the ways in which the goings on between the three of you now be anything but. Reaching up and towards a bag of chips, with the mans eyes turned towards the subject, you allow yourself the greedy view of his fitted, navy blue button down tucked perfectly into black slacks, with a belt that you're sure costs more than your car payment, accenting it.

Sleeves pushed up and off of his forearms, you take in the way that the muscles and veins flex and move as he does.

Seeing Kim Doyoung in a whole new light — and more than that, you're allowed to do so.

How can a man this fucking insufferable look like this.

"I'll have you know, I can't be out late tonight," you bite back, a good effort in pretending that you hadn't just been eye-fucking him only seconds earlier. "Early morning in the office, tomorrow."

"What a shame," he exasperates sarcastically, settling back down to his heels and handing off the bag to Mina as she walks by with a carefully placed elbow into his side for...being the way that he is. "Don't let us keep you."

"Be nice." You hear your friend groan from just down the hall.

Everything the same as it always is.

Shrugging and reaching to his other side, the man grabs a single popcorn — tossing it into his mouth with a quirk of his eyebrows. "Don't worry, I was just leaving. Some of us still have work to do."

You have really got to get this out of your system.

  "Mina!"

Shouting through the open flooring of the living space towards your friend, you don't bother waiting to hear back a response before you carry on with the thought.

"Is the downstairs bathroom working yet?"

"No, you have to use our bathroom. Upstairs, to the right, all the way down."

With a quick yell back, you hurry yourself up the while, marbled staircase — not having to go particularly badly yet but mostly instead wishing to get away from the volume of the crowd downstairs for a bit — you realize it's your first time having been on the second floor of the home. Still so new and unexplored, you can't help but take in the sight in a way that feels akin to sight-seeing.

The two certainly did not do badly for themselves.

Slowly making your way down the hallway, your attention is instead drawn to a single room to the left and just before the end of the hall — the tiniest bit of flickering, blue light spilling out from the open doorway — simply enough, you know who reside inside.

Carefully sneaking past in an attempt not to disturb him as he works, you can't help but turn your head to peek at the man inside: head cocked to the side to hold his phone there as his hands work busily at a keyboard on the desk in front of him — but you should really know better than to think that you can get away that easily.

Eyes picking up and towards you, one hand pulling upwards and pushing out his index finger towards you. That silent motion that we all know.

The 'come hither.'

Glancing back down the hall from the direction in which you came, you slowly step towards the doorway, palms nervously pressed to either side before slipping past as quietly as can be — then, with the flick of his wrist, Doyoung motions for you to shut the door behind you.

Your heart rate spikes so hard you feel dizzy.

Hand shaking as you reach out and toward the door, you carefully pull it closed behind you — not all of the way, still sitting ajar just behind you — but seemingly good enough for the man and with eyes glued to you all the while, it's then that he motions once again with his finger for you to come to him.

A slow saunter, feeling the way that your heart beats so hard and fast against your chest you're certain that the people on the other end of the phone can hear it, once you reach just beside him, it's then that he finally swivels his chair around and to the side to face you.

Along with issuing another command: To get on your knees.

The truth of it is that it's humiliating how aroused you already are by it all: A quiet, drowning culmination of so many things happening all at once. The fact that it's so wrong to be doing at all, the fact that you had only an hour ago been downstairs reconsidering if it was worth it entirely given how horrible he is, and beyond all of that — the unknown.

A dull thrum between your legs as you slowly kneel down and between his, thankful at least for the friction that that provides.

Legs spread wide before you, you watch as Doyoung slowly slips one hand down the front of his pants to settle over the growing bulge beneath. Barely noticeable strokes over himself and only inches from your face — remaining calm and collected on the work call in his ear as he does so, you slowly bring a hand up to unfasten his belt as the heady desire of watching him work himself begins to course through even pump of your veins.

Catching your wrist in his other hand just as quickly to stop you from touching him, the two of you make eye contact: a look in his features of displeasure and disapproval.

You're not allowed to touch him.

Watching in silence as Doyoung's head falls back against the office chair, barely able to make out the strands of black hair sticking to his slicked forehead — you can't hear him, on account of the call, but the visual enough to drive you mad, and probably even worse than the dream had ever done — pressing your thighs together as tightly as you can manage as you eye the movement of his fist beneath the fabric of his slacks. Growing faster, using his free hand to pull his shirt up and out of the way so that you can watch the way the muscles of his abdomen move with every tug of his hand against his cock — it's truly the most excruciating and simultaneously intoxicatingly arousing thing you've ever watched.

Internally begging for the request that you climb up and onto his lap to take him, or at the very least taste him, you realize all too suddenly that you might really be in over your head this time as you watch him come in his pants for your viewing pleasure, only.

Completely silent, heavy breaths as his chest rises and falls with each one, Doyoung brings his head back up from the back of the chair to tentatively meet your eyes once again as he pulls his dirtied fingers from the inside of his pants.

Playing with the way that his cum coats his fingers for a brief moment, he motions for you one last time — but this time, a much different meaning to that single, cum-covered digit.

You waste no time leaning toward him, and for a moment, it's like you don't even recognize yourself, anymore; long past the realm of the kind of lust-drunken stupor you've ever experienced before — and as the man shoves long, sullied fingers into your mouth, it's an automatic response the way you suck and swirl your tongue around them, as if wishing them to be the cock you would be more than willing to beg for any moment now.

When finished, Doyoung frees his hands from your lips, only to motion you away from him just as simply as he had beckoned you.

 Stumbling down the hall towards the bathroom in which you had originally intended to find, panties slick and soiled with nothing besides your own desire — the words from your bestie ring loud through your memory in a horny daze.

'Intense' might have been the understatement of the year.

When Mina invites you to a work party for her husband, all that you can think about is the night of their housewarming: sucking his cum off of his fingers in the dull, blueish glow of a computer monitor.

You wonder if she knows. Surely, she knows.

Similarly, modestly dressed as that night — this time in a nice blouse and a fitted pair of dress pants, your friend praises your attire as you enter the busy conference room, shoving a tall glass of bubbly into your hands just as quickly as you're able to greet her back.

"Thank you for coming," she sighs in relief. "I was so fucking bored."

You can't help but wonder what this evening has in store for you now.

Now that you've gotten a taste...no pun intended.

"Sure, I didn't have anything better to do."

"Unsurprising, stuff like this is your job, after all, isn't it?"

Slipping up from the side of the both of you with a proud smirk — hair slicked back and off of his forehead to accompany the the just as put together look of his freshly pressed suit, Doyoung comes up to settle next to his wife, hand settling just at the curve of her hip.

You sort of wonder what it feels like to so easily be touched by him before shaking the thought from your mind entirely.

"Are you ever going to let that joke go?" You ask with a roll of the eyes. "It wasn't funny the first time, promise it's not getting funnier the more mileage it gets."

"I'll stop making it when you stop showing up everywhere, maybe."

"She invited me!" You scoff, only to watch the man bend over to whisper the response into Mina's ear. "Don't worry, I'll handle her for that later."

Out loud, your response is of feigned disgust at the sight, but inside, the visual of the man so vividly offering himself to someone once again reigniting the lust in your gut.

It's a deep, untamed need to have him, now. Part of you hopes that tonight will be the night that he finally puts you out of your misery. Get it out of your system, and move on with your life. Go back to nothing but pointed distaste for the man that your best friend chose to marry.

"Well, I'm off, got to make the rounds," The man finally says with a kiss to the top of his wife’s head before gifting you nothing but a raise of the eyebrows in acknowledge of your existence. "Have fun."

It's funny, because it's precisely what you had requested. For him not to pretend. To not act differently in any other circumstances — for everything to carry on as it normally would. You wonder if it's a conscious effort on his part to do so, or if it simply comes that easy to the man.

  Quarter past eleven, you make your way out and onto the balcony by yourself — Mina off enjoying herself with a couple of the other work wives — weaving your away around a handful of folded and tucked umbrellas, tables and chairs for outdoor dining — you manage to find yourself a comfortable little nook of privacy off and to the side, and far from the line of sight of any prying eyes.

Thankfully, as it not be much of a habit you wish to be caught partaking in.

Digging into your bag to drag out the long, white stick from its box along with a lighter and sandwiching it between gently parted, red-stained lips, you light the cigarette and inhale with a feeling of relief washing over you — no, not a habit that you find yourself indulging in often, but perhaps after a few drinks on a particular night, you'd be known to have a bit of crumble to your resolve.

You know that Mina would have a thing or two to say, so best that she not know at all.

 "Look at you—"

Not just the sound of a voice, but a mans voice at that being the thing to startle you, swinging around to find the visage only slightly more comforting than that of a strangers.

"—Don't you have secrets."

Strolling towards you with hands in pockets, you watch as Doyoung closes the distance between the two of you with a toothpick between teeth, and feeling like a child caught red-handed, the lump in your throat catches any chance you have at swallowing down the obvious nervousness carried through your body at his discovery.

Turning away and facing out towards the railing of the balcony, you choose instead not to give power to his overwhelming presence as you inhale another puff of the stick.

"It's just a social thing when I drink."

A quick, careful shift of his body and Doyoung just as easily has you caged in with arms on either side and chest pressed to your back.

It's not the only thing pressed to your back side, either.

Mouth dipping down into the crook of your neck as you carry on your desperate attempt to ignore him, he never kisses you — never actually makes contact of his lips to your skin — but the feathering of warm breath that smells of expensive scotch all the same kind of intoxicating, as if having drank the liquor yourself.

"Have you thought about the other night?"

The first, verbal acknowledgement of this between the two of you. Suppose, it always was just a matter of time before actual words had to be spoken in relation to it, but with one hand sliding closer to your own along the guard rail as the warmth of the words linger against your skin, you swallow dryly at the question before attempting an answer.

"Y-yeah."

"Did you like how I tasted?"

Doyoung answers back to you much too quickly for your liking, obviously far more comfortable and in control of this interaction than you find yourself to be — by design, based on Mina's run down of the man and his sexual preferences — but more surprisingly than that is the way that it doesn't feel alarming, or discomforting, but rather, pools the arousal between your legs faster than you think anyone or anything else ever has.

It's humiliating, and unfortunately, that sort of adds to it, as well.

Fingers around your wrist, the man pulls you around and back towards one of the tables just behind where the both of you stand — a small, couch-like set up with a cloth awning that doesn't allow for a visual inside of it unless you be directly in the front of it — Doyoung drags you gently towards it before seating himself down with legs spread, and this time, hands busily working at his belt as he stares up at you.

"Knees."

If someone had asked you why you simply obey the commands, you wouldn't even really be able to tell them outside of the throbbing, painful need to find out what obeying may get you in the end.

Taking your place between his legs, you dare not attempt to reach out and touch him this time, figure, you learned your lesson from the first encounter enough — watching instead as his fingers pull the leather from it's loops, then work at the button just beneath — a quick lift of his hips to press his dress slacks down only enough to expose himself as necessary, but with the added coverage of his briefs, as well.

You realize now, in this moment, that you'll do just about anything to fucking see it.

Same hand as before sliding down his stomach and gripping his cock from under the remaining fabric, you watch with lewd attentiveness as the man strokes himself in front of your face all over again, just as before.

"Want another taste?" He says, words airy and lustful. Nodding your head in affirmation like a dog begging for a treat, Doyoung chuckles under his breath. "Are you wet?"

The question excites you more than anything else, because surely, he's asking for one reason and one reason, alone.

Quickly darting your hand down and between your legs, the man shoots up and off of the back of the seat with a sudden urgency. "Don't. Don't touch yourself. Surely you know without checking."

Nodding again, you try to say "yes," but the words barely escape through the dryness of your mouth.

"Good girl," he answers, leaning against the seat again and slipping thumbs into the sides of the fabric remaining at his hips to pull it down only a few more inches from where it currently lie. Watching intently as his cock springs free from the confines — finally in full view for you — long and perfectly curved, not too thin but not enough thickness to him that taking him would be troublesome, suddenly, it's as if the problem of your mouth being too dry be replaced now by one of being too wet — watering at the sight of something you want to feel inside of you so desperately that by the second you find yourself losing the ability to feign disinterest in him.

Dominant hand snaking around his length again, Doyoung brings his other hand forward and towards you — wrapping around to the back of your head and fingers curling into the strands of hair there. It stings, but nothing too bad, and instead you find the pain only amplify the throb between your legs now as he dangle precisely what it is that you want just out of reach and in front of your face with every slow, gentle stroke of his hand along his cock.

"You want another taste, yeah?" He whispers this time as he tightens his grip into your hair and tilts your head back — perfect angle for the wet, head of his cock to rub just at your chin and bottom of your lip.

It's exciting, painfully so, as the untouched arousal coiling within you threatens. For a second, you really wonder if you can cum from this alone.

"If I cum for you will you be a good girl and swallow it for me?" He says then as the movement of his hand begins to pick up just that much more. "I come a lot, can you handle that?"

For some reason, the thought of the man having full, heavy loads of cum makes you even hotter for him. Something so primal and lewd about the idea of it — but perhaps you're too fucked out on not being fucked by now that you can't tell what's sexy and what's not, anymore.

Either are possible.

"Y-yes," you huff out, darting your tongue out to lick at the bottom of your lip and not-so-accidentally meeting with the tip of his length. Devilish grin taking his features, Doyoung stills his actions just as easily — an impressive amount of self-control. "Uh-uh, that's cheating."

Pulling you up and higher from your knees so that you gain more height above him, with the way that you're positioned over his cock, you think that he may threaten to impale your throat on him in one, smooth go. Deep down, you sort of hope he does.

"Spit."

The command comes through so strong in tone that you quickly answer to it, collecting enough saliva in your mouth to dribble down and onto the already plenty wet shaft of his cock as he continues to stroke himself through it with a low, throaty groan that makes you want nothing more than to swallow him whole with how close you are to it.

"Wanna suck my cock, baby?"

You nod wildly.

Hissing through his teeth at the sight of your neediness, he picks up the pace of his fist along his shaft as he settles you back down to your original position between his knees — tip of himself pressed along your lip. "How bad do you want it? Will you beg to have me in your mouth?"

"Yes, please—"

"I didn't say to beg, I just asked if you would," he amends with a patronizing cock of his head. "Want me to fuck your throat? Choke down my cum for me like a good girl?"

The throb nearly unbearable now, you can only whine at the words as he gets closer and closer to his own completion.

"Why don't you open that pretty little mouth for me so I can give you what you came here for?"

The words coming out in a deep, throaty groan as he teeters on the edge of completion, you allow your jaw to fall slack as he fucks himself with his hand a few more times before moaning out through gritted teeth at the feeling of his release — ropes of warm, wet cum painting your cheek and lips despite mostly being caught on your tongue as he comes in waves with every pull of his fingers along his length until finally stilling — leaning forward only to gaze upon his artistic handy work before telling you to swallow it all as previously instructed.

On the way home that night, only ten, simple words lingering on your mind as you make peace with the discomfort of your arousal along the way.

'so I can give you what you came here for.'

"Mina! I'm—"

Turning the corner and into the kitchen to find the door to fridge open — this is all well and good, except for, of course, once it closes and you're forced into contact with the same man who just came in your mouth unceremoniously a week prior.

Expressionless otherwise, Doyoung raises an eyebrow at the sight of you in his home before closing the stainless steel door and walking the other way.

"Guess my lovely wife forgot to inform her employee about the schedule change!" He says with a huff.

"You have got to let that joke go."

Right back to the usual. You wonder what sort of cruel games God plays when granting such a horrible man such a beautiful cock.

Shrugging and turning to look back at you from over his shoulder, the man takes a pitcher of water from the counter; pouring himself a glass before taking another one down from the cupboard and filling that, as well. Slowly carrying on towards you, he hands you the perfect crystal before nodding towards the marble island sitting in the middle of the kitchen for you both to take seats at.

Watching him move, it's such a different feeling from the one that intimately, you've grown a bit accustomed to. You know well enough that people involved in kink and alternate lifestyles are just regular people, but suppose you find yourself never having been so involved with one.

Or rather, fooling around with one who also happens to be married to your best friend.

Oversized, brown sweater hanging off of broad shoulders and thin, round framed glasses, Doyoung perches himself onto one of the stools with a gentle clank of his glass against the cool marble beneath — elbow snug against the hard material and hand serving as a means to lean his temple against as he looks upon you.

It's a little bizarre, feeling him watch you in a way that doesn't feel sexual at all. In a way, you find, it might be the first time Doyoung has really paid you any attention at all beyond the irritating banter of your joint, non-intimate involvement.

Looking charmingly soft and domestic, it's hard to make sense of the man seated in front of you, and the man who asked you to spit on his dick a week ago.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Taking a small sip from your glass, you try to drink down with it the nervousness of being in his presence, but suppose, maybe just a normal conversation will help alleviate that much.

"Have you...told her?"

Stilling, as if not quite sure what it is that you're asking, Doyoung's eyes first pull away from you in some attempt to gather knowledge from elsewhere that he not quite have in front of him. "Yeah, she told you I would."

Thumbing at the rim of your glass, intentionally avoiding any and all eye contact with the man, you hum in response. "What does she think?"

Glancing up, you catch the sight of a grin taking the mans lips, tongue darting across his lower lip like he's finally cracked the case of what all of this is about — settling back into his position from just before with a wide, gummy smile that you're not all that used to seeing.

"She thinks it's hot, is that what you want to hear?"

Snorting at the reply, you shrug. "I don't know. I guess."

"If this is some juvenile way of asking if everyone on our end is okay with the way things are taking place thus far, then the answer is 'yes,'" he says with an annoyingly judgmental tone to his voice. "Everything good on your end?" He adds much to your surprise, popping your head up suddenly at the question.

"Uh," you begin, bashful at the thought of further acknowledging the goings on between the two of them at this current point in time. "Y-yeah, everything is good."

Answering you first with a nod as he sets the glass into the sink, the man carries on down the short hallway and out of the kitchen entirely.

"Well, I've got work to do. Mina'll be home in about a half an hour. Make yourself comfortable, you apparently live here, after all."

Frown on your face at the words and tightening the grip on the set of keys that most definitely go to this home — suppose it's a fair enough assessment.

  After a much later night than usual, with Mina in bed and keys of your own, it's simple enough to let yourself out.

Dimly lit hallways all of the way into the kitchen, it's on your way to sneaking out that you recall having left your dirty glass on the counter — and without giving Doyoung any more reasons to be a thorn in your side, obviously, it easier to be dealt with now. Easy enough.

Except that apparently this guy fucking lives in the kitchen.

Laptop propped up onto the same counter that the two of you shared your small chat earlier, the man watches you move slowly through the area — carefully reaching towards your glass and taking it into your hand as you slide it towards yourself and turn to set it precisely where it is that it belongs.

"Sorry," you whisper on your way past him again and towards the kitchen exit, before that familiar, strong hand finds itself looping around your wrist all over again.

You don't know if you can handle another night like the other two, however.

Pulling you into him with your back to his chest and still seated in place, you think it perhaps a good idea to have worn a cute little sun dress today.

That's not the only surprise you have in waiting, either.

One arm wrapped around your shoulders as the other slinks down to the inside of your thigh — you delight in the feeling of the man touching you, really touching you, for the first time. Delicate pads of his fingers feathering up slowly to the apex of your thighs, it's only due to the position of you against him in such a way that he feels the knocking of something hard against his wrist as he attempts to move closer to your vulva.

And it causes him to still completely.

Seconds of silence passing between you, nearly holding your breath at the anticipation of what's to come — you wonder if he'll choose to punish you for daring to go out on a limb and do such a thing, if punishment is even really something he would do — so many questions and possibilities, all more exciting than the last.

Slowly, you feel him lower his head down, mouth just next to your ear as the very same traveling hand pulls back to your behind and presses a finger right up against the exact thing causing the intrusion.

"Well, well, well," he whispers teasingly against your flesh. "Someone came over with expectations."

Already having opted out of verbally replying to him, he makes it easy with the ease in which he pushes you forward to give him space to stand — fingers pressed into the side of your neck from behind as he hurriedly urges you towards the darkened, least lit countertop in the kitchen.

It's a nice attention to detail: Not that the two of you have to sneak around, but pretending to makes it all that much more worth it.

Forcing your face and chest down and folding you over, Doyoung bunches the fabric of your dress up and over your ass just before diving by hand into the back of your panties for precisely the device that has him in such a mood.

"Who told you to wear this?" He asks with a gentle press against it. One finger extending down, he dips into your folds just ever so lightly before pulling back up with a chuckle under his breath. "You're so wet. Aren't you a little cockslut?"

The shift in Doyoung's demeanor this time hard to ignore, like a little bit of him lost in some sort of primal, animalistic lust to have you — it's precisely what you had been going for, after all.

Distinct sound of him hurriedly trying to pull himself from his jeans, met then with the feeling of long, deft fingers gently tugging your underwear down your legs — Doyoung pulls your hips up and out just enough before pressing your thighs closed together with his cock sandwiched in between and the plug in your ass on display for him as he continues gently pushing and pulling on it with ever shallow thrust of his hips against you.

It's excruciating, the promise of feeling him snug between your walls in only an inch or so of adjustment — head of his cock rutting gently against your swollen clit as he aimlessly fucks the wetness of your pussy from the outside — you regret the way that the quake of your thighs give away the fact that you may be able to come from this contact alone.

Slowing his movements against you with hands firmly pressed into the dip of your hips, Doyoung leans down and against you to whisper more torment into your ears.

"So close, baby," he huffs out. "You're so wet, could slide inside of you so easily — fuck you raw right here, would you like that?"

As if the knowing and the wanting wasn't enough, the talking always ending up as your ultimate downfall with the man.

You nod despite the way in which the side of your face lie against cold, unforgiving marble — looking back at him as he administers this particular punishment of the night. You're not sure if it's intended to be a punishment — of if any of it really is, but it certainly does feel that way.

Perhaps you're just a little bit too used to getting what you desire, with ease.

"Sort of want to," he says through gritted teeth, a certain tonal anger that you don't think you've heard from the man in your encounters before but that causes you to clench hard around nothing all the same. The promise of finally getting what you want to bad — the taking of what he wants and needs of you even in spite of himself. One hand sliding up your back and setting on the back of your neck again, he pulls his hips back just enough to position the tip of his length perfectly at your entrance — threatening all the while with shallow pokes to sheath himself inside of you once and for all.

"Fuck you stupid, have you babbling my name while I fuck you full of my load like the cum-hungry bitch that you are, that's what you want me to do, right?" Without giving you time to respond, you feel him pull hard enough on the plug embedded in your ass to remove it, tossing it into the sink only a little bit away. "Come over here with this in makes me act a little fucking crazy — but you haven't earned having me in your cunt just yet."

Hand swooping down from the small of your back and cradling instead his length as he positions the tip of himself at your well-prepped asshole — well enough lubricated from topically fucking your pussy, Doyoung presses himself inside of the tight cavern slowly with a bitten bottom lip and a forced back groan from his chest as he sinks inside of you as delicately as he can muster.

You're thankful enough for his attention, but it's not your first rodeo, and you prepped for a reason — pushing your hips back and against him as signal to carry on, he brings the hand back up and to your shoulder, leverage to pull you back with force and onto his cock with every following snap of his hips.

Truthfully, he feels fucking exquisite inside of you.

"Fuck, Doyoung—" you whine, only for one hand to swing around and over your mouth just as quickly as the words exit.

"Don't address me," he grits through drives of his hips into you — moans spilling out through his fingers all the same as if no hand there at all. "Don't talk, just take my cock like you're supposed to."

Nodding, the overwhelming feeling of wanting to come so badly and not knowing if you can get there untouched — tears threatening the corners of your eyes with every relentless yet heavenly drag of the mans cock inside of your ass — it's then that you feel the ghosting of fingers over your clit. A feeling so exciting to you now that you nearly bear down against them, to which, Doyoung chuckles at your neediness.

"Can't just come from my cock in your ass?" He whispers, the lewd sound of his hips meeting the flesh of your behind echoing through the otherwise empty bottom floor of the home. "How much do you think I'd have to rub you before you came all over my hand? Ten seconds?—"

The light, feathering of the tip of his fingering feeling nearly electric over your clit now, you moan out into the palm of his hand with eyes clamped shut. "—Five seconds?"

Breathing heavily through his hand as he continues his relentless drive into you from behind, pulling his hand away from between your legs you whine loudly against the flesh of him at the loss of yet another release, but instead, the hand around your mouth curling fingers between your lips as you happily and seductively suck around them like cock presented. Groaning at the sight, his other free hand traveling up the length of your torso and finding purchase against your breast as his thumb gently circles around the bud there — Doyoung leans down to curl his lips into a smile against your back at the sight of all of the ways that you're willing to fall apart for him.

"I think you can come without it."

Gently fucking his fingers into your mouth — simulating the presence of his length currently buried in your ass, also buried down your throat, with the additional stimulation of gentle tugs and flicks of his thumb against your nipple, pressing your thighs together tightly — you suspect that he might be right.

"God, look at you," he groans, slowing his hips to focus elsewhere as he watches the way you hungrily lap at his fingers. "You want to suck my cock so bad — have you always wanted it, baby?"

It's nearly involuntary, the moan that rips through you as the words leave his mouth.

Just shy of baby talking, condescending certainly, Doyoung pressing the pads of his fingers harder against your tongue as he shoves all of the way into your mouth to the best of his ability given the angle. "That why you act like that? Need me to fuck your face open, make you gag on it a little bit so you shut up?"

The words, with a particularly sharp snap of his hips, has your legs pressing in on themselves in just a way that you know with a little bit more movement, you can get there. Through tears brimming in your eyes, you manage out a desperate plea past the mans fingers — met with such a familiar sinister grin, Doyoung picks up the pace of his hips — harder and fuller with length against you as you nearly cry out around the fingers still dug in between your lips.

Digging a hand up from your chest and in your hair again, knuckles twisting into it hard as he chases his high, with a bit back groan he gazes down at you — standing tall and firm from behind you as you barely manage to meet eyes with him from your twisted position.

"Gonna come, baby?" He whispers through labored breaths as he teeters on the edge of release. "Want me to fuck my cum in your ass, don't you?"

"Yes, yes—" You chant at the promise of finally being able to come in the presence of the man. You're thankful when it's only two or three more stutters of his hips into you from behind before he releases into you — hot cum spilling into your hole as he shoves the full length of himself inside as he finishes. It's enough for you, thankfully, enough friction from the movement of him against you to have you barreling over the edge along with him with a shriek and a whine through his fingers as you come hard and long for the first time since you two have begun your rendezvous.

Chests heaving as the man gently pulls himself from you, you quickly bend down to pull your panties up to catch the mess of cum already immediately making its exit from your used, stretched open hole. Turning back around to face him as he effectively cages you in with arms on either side of the counter — the two of you make eye contact briefly before a gentle flushing of embarrassment washes over you and you're forced to pull away from the man that only seconds ago was inside of you.

"Try to remember to wash your dishes, would you? I can't do this every time."

Turning back suddenly, you playfully slap at his arm as he shimmies his jeans back up and around his hips.

Mixed drink and a slightly over-cooked quesadilla in front of you on the table of a busy, evening restaurant on your side of town — in the company of a handful of shared friends, Mina and her miserable husband, you can't help the pique in curiosity about the ins and outs of such an arrangement from inside of the marital home.

How much their relationship benefits from the retelling of such engagements with your best friends husband. How much their sex life benefits from it.

Watching from your peripheral — an attempt to not make it so obvious, how interested you are in the dichotomy of it — Mina and Doyoung playfully flirting and touching each other from across the table as if the man hadn't just sodomized you in their kitchen only a few days prior.

It turns you on even that much more. The mystery behind it.

"God—" An exasperated sigh from the man; black turtle neck and fitted black jeans just under the table as he sets his glass back down onto the table with a disgruntled scrunch of facial features adorning his face. "—This drink is terrible, I should say something."

Squinting, the pointless complaint pulls something from you. Such a typical, stuck up, rich guy thing to say.

"Drinks are two dollars here, what did you expect?"

"I don't care if it's two or twenty dollars, if I'm paying for it then it should at least be drinkable."

Eyes turning towards your friend seated next to you as she meets your gaze just the same, a swift kick across the way to her husbands shin has him rolling his eyes and jolting back in his chair. "Be good, Doie."

"Yes, dear."

"Can't take him anywhere," You whisper to your friend, well within earshot of the man, which of course only causes him to lean in and towards the both of you with an irritated frown. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here."

"Better than talking to you."

"Trust me," he sighs, leaning back into his seat again. "The feeling is more than mutual. I wonder everyday how you ended up with a key to our place."

 For whatever reason, that one stings in particular.

 Normally, dealing with Doyoung is something that you're used to — but tonight, there's a certain tone to him that you find hitting somewhere in your chest in a much different way. Not just banter, but perhaps a deeply personal disapproval of not only you, but your friendship with his wife.

It's not that you anticipated starting a sexual relationship with him to have fixed your dealings outside of it — quite the contrary, actually — but maybe enough was enough, now.

You've cum on my face, the least you could do is treat me with a basic level of respect.

 Napkin out of your hand and onto the table in a way that it's obvious of your displeasure, you stand suddenly and inform Mina of your departure to the bathroom. "Do you want me to come with you?" She of course offers, only for you to quickly dismiss it and assure her that you're fine as you carry yourself off and down the short hallway to the small, two-stall ladies room.

Leaned over the dirty, wet, black granite counter with both hands pressed into the edge, you look at yourself in the reflection — needing a moment to cool off, you're still relatively unsurprised when you don't receive it.

Cracking the door open, you watch from in front of you as the most insufferable man you've ever known slips inside to join you.

"You having fun?" He starts, already with intent to have a fight with you. "Have fun causing a scene?"

"Oh, I'm causing a scene!" You chime sarcastically, "not the guy who wants to complain about a two dollar drink not being up to par. Does it ever get exhausting? Being so fucking far up your own ass?"

Rushing towards you in an instant, Doyoung wraps a hand in your hair from behind — first pushing you forward with the momentum of it but just as quickly ripping you backwards and towards one of the empty stalls. Door slamming shut behind the both of you and just as quickly allowing the back of his shoulders fall to the wall, he works quickly at his belt as the sinister look in his eyes never once leaves your own.

You wonder how he has this kind of power — only seconds ago the most horrible man you could ever imagine being around, but now, watching him stare you down as he works to free his cock for you in this public bathroom — you realize that it's that precise mixture of things that makes his desirability so strong. Painfully so, as the throb between your legs already finds itself stirring up once again.

Barely pushed down his hips and freeing his hardening length, languid strokes over himself as he stands in front of you never once breaking eye contact for a second, you realize in humiliating silence that you're waiting for his command.

Of which, he quickly grants you: "Why don't you put that mouth to good use, for once."

Maybe if you hadn't been wanting it for so long already you'd be more willing to put up a bit of a fight, but finally being granted one of the things you've been dying for since the beginning of this endeavor with him — falling to your knees in the filth of this bathroom stall and immediately taking him into your hand with a long, enthusiastic swipe of your tongue up the bottom of his shaft — the low, breathy groan that it grants you reason enough to pull forward to take the head of his cock between your lips and swirl your tongue there, only to press down along his length for as far as you can before the tip of him threatens the back of your throat.

Unfortunately, it's not much of him that you can take before that happens.

Hand in your hair again as you've grown so familiar, you hear the sound of his head falling back against the granite before parting his lips to speak. "Gonna have to do a better job than that. How good can you be?"

You know what he's really asking.

Pulling you forward by your hair harder along his length, you struggle to accommodate him in your mouth, but it's not the first time you've done something like this — he's not asking too much of you — but it's sudden, and the burn against your throat something you're not used to feeling as your gag reflex begins to trigger and tears well up in your eyes at the struggle.

Doyoung pulls you back only slightly so that you can take a deep breath before bringing your mouth back along him. "Come on, you're gonna have to take it all, baby."

The words 'have to' immediately pooling between your legs, especially.

Gagging around him, the man moans through the sounds of you struggling to take his cock into your throat, he begins shallow, short thrusts against your mouth in an attempt to bring your nose flush with the skin of his pubic area, but with this not being something you've done often enough — there's part of you that wants to fight through it, because frankly, you've been fantasizing about this very moment since the very first night you tasted his cum from his fingers, anyways — but perhaps you should have practiced a bit more (or at all) at home in anticipation for this night.

You don't want to, but everyone has limits.

Three fast taps of your hand against his thigh, Doyoung immediately removes himself from your hair, allowing you to pull off from him just as quickly — coughing into the crook of your elbow as you attempt to regain oxygen into your lungs, you can't see much through the wetness gathered in your eyelashes, but you do hear the sound of him tucking himself away again before kneeling down to meet you on the floor.

"Are you okay? Can I get you anything?"

"No," you rasp out, sounding far more fucked and broken than you actually are, but rather, a physical result of the assault on your throat. Really, you're fine, just too much, too fast. "I'm okay, seriously, just couldn't yet."

"Is there anything I can do?"

Concern dripping from his voice — he's not touching you, purposely as to give you enough space from him, you shake your head with a chuckle as you bring your hand up to wipe the tears away from your eyes before making eye contact with him again.

"No, you didn't do anything wrong, I was a little too enthusiastic, I think."

"Is it okay if I touch you?"

Chuckling again at the way that the man almost insists on handling you with kid gloves, you roll your eyes. "Yes, I'm not broken, I just can't deep throat seven inches of dick on a whim without a bit of practice."

"Aw," Doyoung coos, running a hand gently through your hair, before standing himself and helping you to your feet. "You think I'm seven inches. That's sweet."

Sniffling hard and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before straightening your clothing and dusting off your knees, you shoot the man a confused frown. "Bigger or smaller?"

Unlocking the stall door and motioning for you to exit, Doyoung offers you a simple wag of his index finger and a pompous grin before answering.

"A lady never tells. After you."

With weeks of fooling around with Kim Doyoung under your belt now, you find a certain level of trust and comfort established. Exemplified by his adhesion to boundaries and safe words at the drop of a hat, you can't help but recall the words that Mina had offered you so early on in the initial discussions of this foray into ethical non-monogamy.

'He's a good dom.'

Sure, you have a lot of criticisms of the man: That he's brash, boring, conceited, self-important and a whole other mess of ways to say that he's far from the kind of man you'd like to see yourself with at the end of the day, but one thing is for sure — safety, respect and trust are of the utmost importance to him.

Thinking back to that time in the bathroom — immediately unconcerned with the state of his erection in favor of the state of your well-being — sure, it sort of is the bare minimum when it comes to this sort of sexual play, but something to be celebrated, all the same.

So now, you may have an interest in rearranging some of the terms of your agreement.

  "Honey, I'm home!"

Annoyingly sing-song in a way that you know will irritate the man of the house but be effortlessly charming to the person that you're there to see — when met with silence, you're a bit disappointed. After all, playing house in spite of Doyoung's clear distaste for it has turned into one of your favorite past times.

Both the playing house, and the irritating him parts.

"Hello?" You ask again, listening to the way the words echo through the empty, lower-level of the home, only to eventually be met regretfully by the husband — apron-clad and wooden spoon in hand as he settles a straight-faced look upon you without offering anything for words.

Then, he turns back and into the kitchen from which he came.

A roll of the eyes, you set your bag down on a chair near the door, kicking your shoes off and following after him — eyes pulling towards the familiar countertop that you've more than become acquainted with as you circle around to the other side of the kitchen island to sit in the very same chair that the man had been seated in the last time that the two of you had your...engagements, here.

"So," you sigh. "When's Mina coming home?"

"She's not."

The words sort of send a chill down your spine, because the first thing that comes to mind is that the things that the two of you have been engaging in have now torn their relationship apart.

But, Mina was the one that told you to come over.

Glancing over his shoulder while perched over the stove — obvious horror splashed across your face, Doyoung laughs at the obvious line of thought in your mind. "She's on a business trip."

"Then, why did she tell me to come over?"

Halfway into turning his attention back to his cooking, he brings his head all the way back to look at you again: It's a look that says, "you know why, don't play dumb now."

He doesn't offer verbal confirmation, but you understand the jist of it well enough with just that. "Have you eaten?" He asks instead, to which you nod. "Yeah, had something on the way over."

It's sort of perfect, the way that the pieces fall together as Doyoung stands across from you at the very same island — a small bowl of soup being shoveled into his mouth with no particular haste as you watch him — gray sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, it's a cozy look that you're not all that used to seeing from him considering the majority of your involvement with him has been out and about.

You've been meaning to bring this up, anyways.

"I think—" you start quietly, picking at the skin around your fingernails lightly. The nervousness being the first thing that Doyoung notice as his eyes travel up from his empty bowl and towards your own, waiting for you to finish the thought.

"—I don't want to do this anymore. With you. It feels wrong. I can't do it anymore."

The layer of silence that falls across the atmosphere of the kitchen feeling so suffocatingly thick as you wait for his response — the man simply staring at you quietly through his eyelashes without even the slightest bit of movement until his lips part ever so lightly to speak.

"Color?"

And with confidence, you whisper back "green."

Squinting at you, you recall back having mentioned this to Mina in passing: the resistance kink. The desire to be 'taken,' to have a complete loss of control over the situation — participating in something so dirty, so wrong, and loving every second of it so much that you desperately wish for the morality of it to be out of your hands entirely. 'I want it, but wanting it is wrong. Only when stripped of the choice entirely is there true freedom to desire.'

And obviously, she passed it along to him, but the discussion not having happened in full means that now it's up to you to take matters of consent into your own hands.

But slowly raising from his slightly folded position, Doyoung brings his bowl to the sink, rinsing it out, and coming back to you in silence. The discomfort is poignant, so, now you have to ask.

"Color?" You slowly drop from dry lips, and without breaking his suffocating gaze on you, he whispers back pointedly "yellow."

The word exits his mouth quietly, smoothly, as if really trying to drive home to you how much this is not the way these things are supposed to work: Truth of the matter is that you know that, and this should have been discussed at length long before tonight — but you trust him to be able to make the adjustments, and worst case, to stop if you should need him to.

You're hopeful that he trusts you to do all of the same.

Then, he parts his lips to speak again. "—But, green."

It's his way of letting you know that you've gone about this all wrong, but all things considered, he's willing to roll with the punches, anyway. Jutting towards you, Doyoung wraps long fingers around your wrist, ripping you off of the stool and nearly knocking it to the floor as a result; tearing the apron from his waist as he roughly tugs you out of the kitchen, down the hall, up the stairs and swings you around to press your back against the shining, platinum railing of the banister in the hallway.

"Why did you wear jeans?" He grunts as he drops to his knees in front of you, quickly pulling apart the button and zipper to roughly drag the tight fabric down your legs.

Frankly, you didn't know that you'd be doing this tonight.

Stepping out of them and shoved down the hallway to be sufficiently out of the way, the man hoists one of your legs up and over his shoulder — one hand digging fingers into the side of the crotch of your panties to grant him quick access to your already anticipatory pussy.

However, him being eye level with your cunt not particularly how you had expected this to go — ever, really.

Looking up at you from between your legs and through devilishly narrow eyes, the man makes one, simple, request: "Tell me about the dream."

Diving into your folds as his tongue presses flat and firm against your clit — the sudden feeling of him having you like this making you dizzy with want, you find yourself entirely unsure how you're expected to recount much of anything to him like this — and especially once he begins unrelenting suction to you that threatens to make you cum almost immediately.

Attempting to bite back your moan, and instead opting for a breathy 'fuck,'  you know well enough that if you don't adhere to the command, he'll most definitely stop.

"Y-you—" there's an attempt to speak at least, until two long, thin fingers bury into you to the last knuckles.

Pulling his mouth away from you and licking at his lips lewdly, he cocks his head to the side playfully. "Better start talking or I'll stop."

"God, okay," you exasperate as he dives back in. "Was...against the wall, you fucked me against the wall — we weren't—"

"Allowed?" He pauses again only long enough to finish your thought with a grin. Nodding quickly, Doyoung still slowly fucking into you with his fingers as he watches you fall apart from above him, he coos at the look and sound of you — perhaps finally coming to an understanding of what all of this is about.

"Good girl," he hums gently, lips brushing against your wet folds without much intent behind the contact. "Can you do me another favor?"

Breathy and already a little fucked out, you whisper out a "yes."

"Come on my mouth."

Leaning up and into you again, tongue firm into your clit with tight, intensive swirls — it doesn't take long for you to follow through as one hand falls down and wraps into his hair — holding him firm in place as you involuntarily grind down against his mouth as you come blindingly hard onto him. Long since needed and the orgasm from the night in the kitchen hardly offering the release you had been looking for — Doyoung lending his face to you in such a lewd, particularly out of character act of a blending of roles — as you come down slowly from your high, you watch the man pull away and out of you with a gentle ease, sucking his fingers clean of you before wiping his face with the back of his hand and standing tall in front of you.

 "Want to fuck your best friends husband, but don't want to be responsible for the repercussions of it, huh?"

 You just came, but the promise of getting exactly the fantasy that you wish for out of this throbbing between your legs pooling just as if you hadn't.

You don't even get to answer before the same, dominant hand is wrapped up in the hair at the back of your head and pushing you down the hallway, towards the bedroom.

Stumbling inside as he roughly pulls you around, once the both of you reach the edge of the bed, Doyoung sits you down just in front of him — not letting you free of his grasp, but instead with his other hand, freeing his growing erection from his pants and pulling your mouth against him harshly.

Of course, you take him in with ease.

"You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth like this," he groans from above you, eyes glued to the place where he disappears inside of you. "Always knew you wanted me, that's why you always act like that, just need me to put you in your place, don't you?"

Moaning at the words and around his dick as he shallowly presses inside of your wet mouth, speed slowly picking up with each passing moment as he continues to talk you through it. "What are we going to do if my wife finds out? Suppose we just can't let that happen, can we?"

You hate the way the thought has you clenching down hard.

"That's why you're over here so much, isn't it?" Doyoung asks through gritted teeth as he continues fucking into your mouth, gently prodding at the back of your throat with each thrust. "Just begging for me to fuck your mouth? You love my cock, don't you?"

Pulling his length from you only long enough for you to answer back and breathy 'yes,' he sheaths himself inside all over again

Only a few more thrusts before grunting, Doyoung pulling himself from your mouth to fist over his cock and lined up with your face — you display your mouth open with tongue flat as he comes over your flesh again — warm, heavy ropes of himself painting your face and mouth before quickly angling your head down again to place his length between your lips for you to suck him clean, as well.

Holding your head back again and bringing his other hand up, thumb spreading the wetness of the act across your lips, chin and cheeks before shoveling most of it into your mouth as your lips close around his thumb to suck the digit clean just as you have with his cock — groaning into the look and sensation of it, Doyoung gently taps the inside of his fingers against your jaw, signaling for you to open your mouth all over again as he shoves two fingers in to swirl around the mixture of cum and spit collected there.

Slipping back and away from you, the command comes through simply. "Swallow."

You do so without question.

Wiping your mouth with your shoulder and taking in a heavy breath, you sigh out while looking up at him. "We can't ever let her find out about this?"

But glancing down at you with the most evil look in his eye, you watch as a single corner of his mouth gently pulls up,

 "You think I'm done with you?"

 It sends a tingle down your spine and straight to your pussy, Doyoung suddenly reaching forward to turn you around and bent over the bed as he pulls your soiled panties roughly to the side with a tear. Rubbing the head of his cock through your soaking slit and against your still sensitive clit, you grip hard into the sheets beneath you, attempting to pull away from him but to no avail as he grips fingers roughly into your hips to keep you precisely in place and displayed before him.

"Think you can take it all, baby?" He sighs, leisurely stroking himself back to full hardness as his tip slowly begins to split your pussy open from behind. "Can you be a good girl for me, take the whole thing?"

Whimpering against the mattress at the desperate, delicious burn of his cock finally entering you after so long — what feels like a lifetime of desiring having him buried inside of your walls, finally being granted to you with slow, almost delirious ease as he sinks into you from the back, you answer him honestly. "N-no."

"I don't think so, either," he responds with a comfortable ease as he continues with his initial stroke. "But you're going to try, aren't you? Not used to taking such a big dick?"

"No, fuck, Doyoung—"

"God you want this so bad, already so fucked out on my dick and I'm not even inside all of the way," gently pulling his hips back only to rock back inside, even such a simple movement granting him a cry out from between your dry lips. Leaning forward and over your back to plant a hand down between your shoulders and holding you in place, Doyoung repeats the action again to elicit the same response from you all over again.

"Oh, you love a big cock," he grits out through his teeth as he finally settles into a rhythmic pace against your behind. "You love my cock. Say you didn't want to do this, didn't want to go through with this, but I don't think that's true at all, is it?"

Pulling out far enough for only the tip of him to remain inside of you before drilling back hard into your cunt, you nearly cry at the unrelenting pressure of him against your walls, and in particular, against your g-spot. Thighs trembling and stomach tightening with every full, hard drive of himself into you, it's an attempt to form a full thought but instead, the words come out as only babbled sobs as he drives hard and firm into you.

"Do-Doyoung, fuck, 'm gonna, 'm—p-please, please, fuck—"

"You gonna come, baby?" The question comes through with hastened, airy breaths as if close himself. "Come around my dick for me? Wanna earn my cum?"

Nodding fast against the mattress, he grunts into a particularly hard thrust against you. "Make your lil cunt so messy."

Pulling himself back up into a straighter, standing position at the edge of the bed, fingers firmly dug into the flesh of your waist as he pulls you back hard onto his cock — the sudden angle change toppling you over into your orgasm unexpectedly as you cry out for him and curl your own nails into the sheets beneath you as your release rips through your body — simultaneously, Doyoung falling victim to the way your pussy clenches down around his length, fucking you roughly through your orgasm as he reaches his own with bit back, throaty moan at the way your cunt nearly milks his cum from him with little movement and so much ease — burying himself so deep into your guts that it threatens to hurt and whining at the near pain of having him so fully inside of you as he coats your walls.

Chests rising and falling, Doyoung pulls from you and falling next to you, it's much to your surprise when familiar hands tug you to the side and seated over his hips.

 "Split yourself open on my cock and come again."

 The words themselves nearly enough to do you in, but with the unrelenting throb of your untouched clit impossible to ignore, you follow the command as you position your hips over his impressively hard length and wasting no time burying him inside of your messy, cummed-in cunt all over again.

Leaning back ever so slightly and quickly rubbing circles into your clit for his viewing pleasure as he pulls the sweatshirt still clinging to his chest up to expose more skin of his abs and chest — reaching your free hand down, you touch over the skin there, feeling more of him and the way his abs reach to not only your touch, but the visual just in front of him.

"Fuck," you whimper, already feeling the threat of another orgasm building as your walls squeeze tightly around his seated shaft. "Fuck, Doie—"

The pet name.

"God, don't call me that, I'll come in your little pussy all over again," he nearly whines through an exhausted chuckle. It's a sort of endearing, almost break in character that you're not used to seeing from the man.

"Come on baby, be a good girl and come for me," he starts again with a fucked out whisper as he watches you twist circles into your pussy just above where his length disappears inside of you. "Show me just how bad you wanted me inside of you."

Toes curling and teeth gritting as it washes over you all over again — a nearly silent scream of an orgasm as your mouth hangs open through your release — a similar, quiet groan from the man beneath you as he watches and feels you come on him for the third time tonight.

 He takes his jobs very seriously.

 Giving you a moment to calm before heaving you off of him and standing in front of you again, as you sit up to meet his dick with your lips just as before, you can't help but be seriously impressed by his ability to maintain an erection.

You're beginning to understand why Mina married him, after all.

"Clean me up," he commands, hand gently weaved into the back of your head in such a familiar way. "Enjoy it while you can, it's the last time you'll get to taste me."

True as it is, you find yourself surprisingly somber at the thought of this being the end of the arrangement, as agreed upon. Far from an emotional connection, but rather, a mental one — a mutual understanding between physical lovers. The trust, the communication, and safety inherent in this particular pairing of people.

Plus, his cock is perfect and he fucks like a pornstar.

Licking up the length of his shaft, truly savoring the taste of his cum and your own mixed along it before taking him deep into your mouth and bobbing slowly, carefully, full of intent along his cock — partially for the show of it, and partially because yes, it's the last time, and you'll miss this more than you might have thought you would going in.

"You're amazing," Doyoung sighs, gently pulling his length from between your lips and folding over just enough to be only a few centimeters off from your own face with his. "Open."

Obeying the command and jaw falling slack, the man allowing the collection of saliva from his mouth to drip lewdly into your own — missing direction ever so slightly and catching partially at the corner of your mouth — Doyoung brings a hand up to thumb at the messy corner before finally closing the distance between both of your mouths and pulling you into a full, intense, passionate kiss — tongue immediately pushing forward to lick at the inside of your mouth — it's breathtaking and intimate in a way that nothing else thus far has been.

And pulling away with a single, thin, string of saliva connecting the two of you by mouth yet, Doyoung's lips curl into a sinister grin as his eyes pull from your own, to your lips, then back up to meet your vision again.

 "Happy to help."

♡ send me your thoughts and feelings in my ask.

—part 2!

[bonesandchalamet]

from the shining lights, to the sandy beaches, I’ll only love you — p.mellark

masterlist | pairing: peeta mellark x fem!reader

summary: bored and facing the capitol, you give the citizens of panem some drama to spice up the games

warnings: slight mentions of 18+ ideas but nothing graphic + mentions of insecurity

hours you think. it had to have been hours layered laying in woven grass blankets with flattened bread in your pockets that’s sure to be moldy soon from the moisture.

“how long have I been out?” a grunt escapes your lips to signal your awakening to them. you attempt to sit upward, but your hands were badly blistered and your arms were weak.

peeta lunged into the makeshift tent, he gently lays you back down shushing you to not worry about taking the next shift. after all, you’d been the one to trip over rocks in the acid rain, if anyone should get sleep it’s Finnick who carried you like it was nothing.

Finnick. sweet, sexy, district four, Finnick odair. the man women are obsessed with, and you could see why. his beautiful blue eyes and cocky smile, if it weren’t for the baker beside you, you’d be all over that fine man.

there was nothing wrong with peeta. his tenderness, the warmth he provides, he was an amazing boyfriend. but the ever thought of another man seemed to spark a load of questions piling up in your brain.

the storm had been out for awhile now, leaving you with some time of peace. you flip onto your left side, facing peeta, a wicked smile lifts your lips that he can’t even read. but it gives him something to laugh at in this place, “what’s your problem?”

“if you could fuck someone in the capitol would you do it? someone dressed like Effie?”

finnick makes a repulsive noise. hes had a fair share of capitol women, and even the sight of Effie was enough for him. having ran into her with zero makeup on, and nothing but a wig, Finnick odair would rather steer clear of any women from the capitol.

“I’d really prefer we think about our game plan—“

“it’s a simple question.” johanna finally wakes, she sits up carefully, her voice draws finnicks attention briefly from looking out.

sweat thickens above his upper lips. peeta knows there’s a correct answer. being in love with you, he’d never thought of another woman, so why would you ask? he can only imagine to lighten the mood, lift the spirits of the citizens watching in boredom, so he thinks it’s not harmful to play along?

“I’ve only ever wanted intimate moments with you.” peeta extends out his hand, the roughness of his palm touching your cheek, “you know I only love you.”

“this is such a yawn.” Johanna counters, she eagerly sits forward breaking the moment, “not a single woman caught your eye on the tour? you’re going to die anyway, might as well admit it.”

peeta let’s out a light laugh, and you know he’s serious. he’s only ever had eyes for you, but to Johanna, Finnick, haymitch, and potential sponsors, he needs to play in. he needs to draw them something, so he does what he’s a natural at; story telling.

“well there was a girl,” he pauses, eyes swiftly glancing at you before back at johanna, “hard to tell how old she was under those capitol lights, but she just kept following me. every room she was there, and I just couldn’t take my eyes off her.” he looks up the makeshift tent, a sadden glow casts across his face, “I wonder if I’ll see her again.”

you can’t quite remember a woman who followed him in every room besides yourself. maybe that’s who he was discussing? but he’d bought Finnick and Johanna’s approval leaving peeta to slip out the tent.

“what about you, y/n? sleep with a capitol or finnick?”

finnicks head snaps his head in the direction of his name, a spark lights in him earning a bright cocky smile, “I don’t bite, babe.”

it’s your turn to make a repulsive noise, but you know everyone at home is inching closer to their screens: would you screw around with Finnick for a night? or would you dare head back to the capitol? Finnick it is.

“just for a night,” you pause taking a long look at peeta. he’s fixated his eyes on something with the sand, probably just to occupy his mind from this conversation that’ll haunt his last memories with you, “I’d do Finnick, on the count that peeta can be there.”

“a threesome?” Finnicks words echo across the sandy beaches practically giving away your hiding spot, “I’m not sure I’ve ever done that.”

“I’d pay to be a fly on the wall of that night.” Johanna grins.

“I’ll pass. I don’t think I’d well with sharing.” Peeta blurts out.

a wide grin takes hold of Johanna’s face, yours is covered in a deep red blush that you’re thankful no one can make out in the darkness.

“peeta, possessive? never would’ve thought of that.”

it’s a shock to everyone, even you. peeta never showed any care that you were close to other guys, like Finnick or even beetee, but maybe it’s because he always knew you’d come back to him. he always knew it was him you’d love and swear you’d never leave. it must be the insecure feeling that if you saw what Finnick had, you’d leave.

to answer his worries, you wrap your arms around peetas neck and press a long kiss to his lips, “I kind of like it.”

“I’d rather sleep with haymitch than either one of you lovebirds.” finnick answers johannas question that was slightly forgotten from you three in the tent.

“come on, it’s my turn to watch.” johanna crawls out the tent, and for a second it’s just you two alone. you slip beside him, resting your head against his bicep, “who was the girl from the capitol?” you whisper.

a smile lifts to his lips, his shoulder slightly budges you to sit up, “who do you think?”

it was you. only you.

[bvbygrl-writes]

Season of The Witch (1)

Pairing: Jacob Black x Witch!Reader x Edward Cullen

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: (Y/n) (L/n) is 19 and still trying to figure out the world. She isn't sure of a lot of things but she is sure of one: she's gonna have her cake and eat it too.

A/N: I recently watched the Twilight Saga for the first time and fell in love with it but I noticed there's not a lot of recent fics so I decided to make them! This doesn't follow the twilight series exactly but the elements and settings are still the same. Everyone is aged up (I mean does Edward really need to be tbf). If this gets enough feedback in my inbox and comments I will continue but this is mainly a tester to see how it does!

Warnings: N/A but it will be 18+ at some point most likely. Minors and blanks dni.

Everyone always talks about how hard it is moving in the middle of the school year. But, what they never talk about is how hard it is to move once you’ve just graduated. Friend groups are already established and due to college, no one is looking to meet anyone new until they’re off to whichever university they’ve decided to attend.

You, however, weren’t off to university. You knew it wasn’t right from you. Your parents supported your decision. In fact, they were thrilled…but not for the reasons you originally thought. Your dad wanted to move back to his home town of Forks, Washington and your mom, being a lover of nature, thought it was the perfect change of scenery. According to the conversation they had with you, it wasn’t a spur of the moment decision either. Your dad had gotten a job as head surgeon and your mom had bought a space to turn into the bakery she had dreamed of owning for years. It was something they had been wanting to do for years but due to the fact you were doing so well in school, they hadn’t wanted to rip you away from that. 

Part of you, the part of you that didn’t want to admit it to yourself, wish that they had. Maybe then you’d have a better chance at your 20s not being so lonely in a town that so far on the drive from the airport, seemed to be desolate and void of any youth. But, it wasn’t all bad. With all the greenery and nature, you’d be able to focus on growing your powers more.

You came from a long lineage filled with powerful and strong witches, your mother being one of them. On your thirteenth birthday, your powers finally presented themselves and everything began to make sense for you. You had always felt different from your peers and having the confirmation that you were healed something in you. Your mom had been mentoring you and through her, you had learned so much over the years. As your eyes gazed out the rain littered car window, focusing on the ocean of trees that passed in a blur, one thing she had said stuck out to you the most. ‘A witch is at her strongest when surrounded by nature’. 

Every weekend, she used to drive 6 hours there and back to a small patch of woods outside of the city. But now, you had access to the forest in any direction you looked.

“I’m thinking of starting a garden in the yard, (Y/n/n), what do ya think?” your mom asked, causing your head to turn in her direction. Her body was turned back to face you, the small wrinkles near her mouth creasing as she grinned. She always had an air of vibrancy and brightness to her that made you question if you were even related sometimes. It was like you could practically feel her emotions buzzing off of her and piercing into your heart. You hummed mulling over your response, turning your attention back to your window, watching as the trees slowly began to turn into homes the further you drove into town.

“Sounds good.” you responded. Your limited word choice was something you had gotten from your father. He wasn’t as introverted as you were, but he only spoke when he found the conversation particularly interesting. And when it came to his wife, he found everything interesting.

“I think that’s a great idea, honey! There’s a lot of space at the house and I know if anyone can make it magical, it’s you.” You watched in the rear view mirror as his eyes flickered towards your mom, full of admiration. Your mom giggled at his small joke, shoving his shoulder in a playful manner. “Maybe in the spring, you could get some fruit growing, use it in your bakery.”

“Why wait till spring? I could do it now with the flick of a finger.” she mused, holding out her palm. Golden sparks hovered above it, swirling in a circular motion. Your dad smiled at her, shaking his head as he pulled into a driveway which you assumed was your new home. Sticking your head out the window, you looked up at it in awe.

In the city, your house was a lot smaller. Lots of identical homes sandwiched far too close together for your liking. But this house, it had character. Faded green framework, a bay window, and a semi wrap-around porch. You noticed a window on the second story, a small balcony attached to it. In your mind you had already claimed it. The slamming of the van door broke you out of your brewing daydream. Looking on the lawn, you internally groaned as you saw people. Just what you wanted to see after a 7 hour car ride. Before you could duck down and pretend you couldn’t exist, your dad turned his head, shaking it as if he could predict what you were about to do.

“(Y/n), come meet my friends!” he called to you. Sighing, you pulled your cardigan closer to your body before hopping out the back seat, stretching your arms as the snap, crackled, and popped. You were finally able to get a good look at the people on your lawn. An older white man with brunette hair, and a thick mustache. Another in a wheelchair, with long, thick black hair, a cowboy hat perched on his head. You recognized them from the pictures from your dad’s office. “These are my old buddies, Billy Black and Charlie Swan. We grew up together!” he explained. Putting on your best smile, you stuck your hand out, shaking each of their respective hands.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you both after hearing dad talk my ears off about you for years.” You joked, causing both men to chuckle. 

“If it makes you feel any better, your dad’s always bragging about ya, kid.” Charlie said. You smile slightly at your dad as he tells you that. Your dad has never been a stranger of telling you how proud he is of you, so it doesn’t shock you that much but it’s still nice to hear it.

“Enough chatting, how’s bout I grab some beers from the cooler and we can start unpacking this uhaul? We’ve got some time but let me tell ya’, the Mrs. does not pack light.” Your dad speaks over his shoulder as he makes his way to the trunk. You hear the sound of ice shuffling as he grabs a few beers out, cracking them open on the side of the car.

“Everything has value, David! You’ll be thanking me when it saves you the money!” Your mom says from the open door, huffling as she grabs another box from the porch, carrying it further into the house. Shaking your head, you smile some. At least some things haven’t changed.

After a while, you finally got all of your boxes into your new room. The one with the balcony as you had hoped. All your heavier furniture was still on the lawn as Mr.Black had informed you his son would be coming soon to bring it up for you. In the meantime, you had time to put your other things up. Standing in the middle of the room, you close your eyes, focusing your mind for a bit as your body begins to levitate, just barely hitting the high ceilings. Waving your hand, your rolled up rug unfolds placing itself in the middle of your room. You squint your eyes until you’re able to locate the box labeled ‘books’, hovering your hand in their direction. You move it to the built-in bookshelves on the wall, all of your books organizing themselves perfectly. Magic has its perks. 

You decide to go for the books next until there’s a knock on your door startling you. You fall to the ground with a loud thud, groaning as the door swings open. Looking up, your body grows warm at the sight in front of you. There’s a taller boy around your age, shirtless with your mattress under one of his arms. Due to his lack of shirt, you’re able to take in every inch of his chiseled chest and the tattoo on his arm. You recognized the symbol from one of the spellbooks your mother showed you but couldn’t recall the meaning. As you pry your eyes away from his torso, you’re able to focus on his face which is somehow even better than what you were just looking at. Gorgeous brown eyes, thick brows, and pretty pink lips. He was somehow rugged and cute at the same time but you had no time to focus on that as he dropped your mattress on the ground, pulling you up with ease.

“Are you okay?” he asked in a concerned tone. You looked away in embarrassment, clearing your throat as you backed away from his hold.

“Fine. Just tripped over this stupid rug.” You mumbled. He looks you up and down, laughing as he returns to the mattress, lifting it with ease. Almost too much. He leans it against the wall furthest from you before returning to the doorway. He smiles at you, throwing you a subtle wink.

“Just in case. I’ll be back with the rest, try not to hurt yourself in the meantime.” He teases, gone just as quickly as he came. You stand frozen in place, listening as he makes his way down the stairs, the sounds of his steps fading. Once you were sure he was gone, you walk over to the balcony doors, stepping out into the chilly fall air. You let out a groan as you lean over it, playing with the idea of jumping off. At least you wouldn’t be able to embarrass yourself any further. 

2

[urfavlarry]

hihi! can i request a fic where the read is ben and aidens childhood friend and they both like the reader? like how would that go 🎀

Love triangle

Ben & Aiden x childhood friend!reader

warnings: swearing, bad grammar, brief mention of gagging

A/N: the texting part reminds me of a part from a book called call me by your name :0

｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ ｡

╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🎧🛹 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Your childhood was a wild one. Of course it was! You had Aiden in your childhood! He wasn’t always like that, and you knew. The same with Ben. One lost his sparkle and the other gained it. You couldn’t lie if someone asked if you were some how involved in Aiden dyeing his hair. How could you not! He would be happy so you would do anything for your best friend. You and Aiden were there for Ben when he was going through tough time, you being the one that bought him his headphones to help him calm down. Of course they were there for you too! When you had family issues, personal issues, or even school issues! They were always there for you as if they were your unpaid therapist haha.

Your summers were never dull when with them, Ben being the only reasonable one and got you two out of trouble most of the time. He was the one that you always called at night when something was bothering you, knowing Aiden would probably already be sleeping, his snoring sounding like a damn alarm clock! Aiden however would be there for you during injuries and things like that. He was quite experienced with patching people up since he himself had to do it a lot on himself. Skateboarding injuries suck ass.

And here you were, looking at your phone, two different tabs opened. One with yours and Aidens chats and the other with yours and Bens. Both having the last message as;

— — — — — — — — — — — —

‘I love you Y/N.”

— — — — — — — — — — — —

What were you supposed to do? Yes you liked them but you weren’t sure if you could choose between them. You gagged at the thought of dating the both of them, thinking it would be weird since they are literally cousins. You shake off the thought, groaning and scream into your pillow. Watching the time go by, you get another text from Aiden and Ben;

— — — — — — — — — — — —

‘Hello? Y/N?? Are you there?’

‘Y/N?”

“HELLOOOO?”

— — — — — — — — — — — —

“Y/N everything okay?”

— — — — — — — — — — — —

You open the messages, trying to type out an answer but every single one felt like it wasn’t enough.

‘I need more time.”

You rewrote that to;

‘Could we talk about it in person?’

Nope! Rewriting that to;

‘Maybe we should just stay friends? No hard feelings right?’

FUCKING HELL Y/N, NO!!

‘I love you too, but I just can’t choose between you two, I love you and Ben so so much, you’re my best friends after all, why wouldn’t I? You have been here for me since we were 8, and I appreciate that but I don’t think I can love one and leave the other behind, I’m sorry.’

Yeah, that seems alright. You send the message and send the same thing to Ben, just rewriting his name to Aidens. They both must be so confused, I doubt they told each other about their feelings towards me, knowing the both of them a bit too well. You hear your phone blow up a bit, deciding to ignore them, you start to pack. Oh reader, nobody told you? You’re moving! Out of the state, well.. to a whole new continent! Isn’t that exciting? Well, it would be if this whole thing wasn’t going on. You’re leaving behind the people you love so much, how sad and American high school movie is that? Your mom yells for you to hurry, grabbing the photos and gifts from the group. You look at your now empty room, walking downstairs you send a quick; “Goodbye America<3” with a picture of your suitcase on snapchat and turn off your notifications. Everyone in the group knew, except Aiden and Ben. You walk downstairs, everything packed and ready. Your mom was waiting for you in front of the car, grabbing your things and puts them in the back of the car.

She smiles at you, hugging you and kisses your forehead. “You ready to go ducky?” She asks and you nod, smiling at her. She pats you on the back and you both get in the car. You get comfortable, knowing it would be a long car ride when you see Ben and Aiden sprinting out of their homes. Your dad drives off, Ben and Aiden chasing the car for what felt like hours yet it was only just a few seconds. They looked devastated, heart broken even. But it’s what the three of you needed; a fresh start.

｡ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ ⋆ ˚⋆⋆ ｡

╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🎧🛹 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

[reigningqueenofwords]

Better Off

Pairing: Past Bucky x Reader

Part 1 of Little Soldier

Dear Bucky, 

Two and a half years. That’s how long we had each other. It all boils down to this. I’m too emotional right now, or I’d be saying goodbye face to face. That’s what comes with being nearly twenty weeks pregnant, though. I heard you the other day, Bucky. I heard you when you were with Steve. I had gone to ask him how to tell you about our baby. Well. I guess I should say my baby now. You don’t want any bastard children, wasn’t that how you put it? That you didn’t want kids at all?

Your suspicions were clearly right. You went to him, telling him that you were worried I’m pregnant. Saying I’ve been emotional, eating differently, and napping. You wanted his advice, too, but for a very different reason. You wanted advice on how to tell me you didn’t want this. You wanted me to ‘take care of it’, or you’d have nothing to do with us. 

I’m sure you can imagine my surprise hearing that. You’d never hinted that you didn’t want more. That you didn’t want kids, that they would be a deal breaker. While I was excited to share this next chapter of life with you, you were pulling away. 

I found out I was pregnant when I was about 8 weeks. Do you have any idea how hard it was trying to plan the perfect surprise for when I found out what I was having? Not blurting it out? Hiding throwing up around you? Making sure that I didn’t slip up and say something that would give away what I thought would have been an amazing surprise. 

Jokes on me, I guess. 

We’re safe. We’re out of your hair. 

If you care at this point. 

Love, 

Y/N/N

Bucky stared at the note in his hand. He had been right, and you’d walked away. You didn’t want anything from him. You didn’t want him to ‘be there’ for your baby. His baby. You’d chosen to be a single mother, not even fighting him on it. 

Then it hit him. You said that the two of you were safe. Furrowing his brows, he went to find Tony. “You helped her leave?” 

Tony barely looked up. “Yup.” He nodded. “They’re safe. End of story.” He told him, continuing to work on his newest gadget, sighing when he messed something up. “Surprised you aren’t out celebrating.” Tony muttered, clearly upset with the Winter Soldier. 

“Why the hell would I be celebrating losing the woman I love?!” He snapped, angry. 

Sitting up, Tony looked at him. “She told me what you said, Barnes.” He said seriously. “You were going to walk away anyway. You got your out. I’ve never seen her that upset. If Nat and Steve weren’t helping them unpack right now, I’m sure you’d be having a very different conversation with a very angry assassin.” He warned him. “I would suggest hiding when they get back, though. You don’t want to know what came out of Nat’s mouth as threats towards you. Clint hid.” He shuddered. 

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “Am I not allowed to not want kids?” He asked. “Not everyone is cut out for parenthood, Stark.” 

“Oh, it’s clear that not everyone is cut out for parenthood.” He agreed, going back to his work. “And no one is forcing you to be in their life, so obviously, you’re allowed. You know Nat sees her like a sister.” Everyone knew that. The pair of you had trained together from day one. You were nearly her equal, after all. “Just shows how much Y/N/N loves you. She said she wants you happy.” 

He stood there for a second, trying to figure out what the hell he was feeling. “Shit.” He grumbled, storming out. 

After they’d helped you move in, you hugged Nat and Steve goodbye. You watched them drive down your very long driveway before disappearing into the trees. No one had known Tony had bought a house (more like a damn mansion) in the woods in upstate New York. Not until you’d gone to him for his help. He’d told you he bought it a few years ago- along with other properties around the country. He called them his ‘just in case’ houses. And, he’d handed you the keys. 

The day after you’d gone to him, he’d had a cleaning company make sure the house was clean. Two days after, he’d had furniture delivered and set up. Three days after, you were packed up, and driving to what would be your new home. Steve drove in a second car behind you, leaving you and Nat in yours. They’d spent two days with you, but had to get back. 

Now you were alone in this big house. Shutting the door, you let out a small sigh. “I am here if you need anything, Miss.” Came JARVIS’s voice, making you jump and let out a small scream. 

“JARVIS?!” You managed, tearing up, a small smile on your face. He made this feel more like home. Unless you were hearing things. 

“Yes, Miss.” He assured you. “You’ve been shown the usual security system, but I connect your home to the tower. There are cameras that only Tony has access to in case of emergencies, and there is also a safe room in the basement.” He went on. “I will direct you to that once you have rested.” 

Leave it to Tony to make it into a fort. “Thank you.” You breathed, looking around. This was your home. It was surrounded by trees, but with a decent sized backyard. Nothing like a house you would have personally bought, but it screamed Tony Stark. 

You’d had your son, Dominick Paul Y/L/N in early October. The leaves had been falling, there was a nip in the air, and it made you look forward to his birthday parties years down the line. When he could ask for a Halloween themed party if he could. When he could jump in the piles of leaves. 

Everyone had come to see you over the course of two weeks once you were home. Tony and Pepper had been the ones to help you get home from the hospital. It was such a strange adjustment. Having a tiny being to care for. But, you loved your son, and every sleepless moment was worth it. Tony all but whined when it wasn’t his turn to hold the small boy. He promised to be back as he hugged you goodbye days later. 

Following him was Clint and Sam. Then Nat and Wanda. Then Bruce. Steve came last. You’d gotten so used to always having someone around that weeks later, your house felt far too empty for your liking. Looking down at Dominick, you smiled softly. “Maybe I’ll get your Aunts and Uncles over for Thanksgiving, handsome.” 

Bucky figured that they kept in touch, but had no way to know. None of them so much as mentioned your name near him. He was training when Wanda and Nat came in, making him furrow his brows. 

“His tiny hands!” Wanda said happily. “I knew he’d be small, but I’ve never really been around babies before.” She went on. 

Nat nodded. “I was more surprised he had hair , honestly.” She chuckled. “I didn’t know a kid could come out with that much. I googled it when we got back to see if that was just something special. Apparently, babies born with hair isn’t uncommon.” She shrugged. 

Wanda chuckled. “I hope we can get back there soon. I loved getting to cuddle him!” 

“Who?” Bucky asked, surprising them. They hadn’t even noticed him there. 

Nat shrugged. “One of the women that works in the tower had a little boy.” She brushed it off as nothing.

He sighed, shaking his head. Had you had the baby by now? Should he ask them? He scoffed at the idea. It was better this way. He didn’t want kids. At all. He was a monster, and he didn’t want to screw up some poor kid by being their father. You, and your kid, were a hell of a lot better off this way.

The snow came, painting your land white. With it came your son’s first Christmas. 

The snow melted, letting you know that soon, flowers would be sprouting. Spring was fast approaching. Dominick was getting bigger every day. 

The May showers passed, leading to hot summer days. You watched the trees move in the summer breeze as you kept Dominick in to cool indoors. 

Summer heat led to the leaves turning. Signaling your son’s upcoming birthday. He was every bit a tiny version of his father. His dark hair was unruly at times, especially in the mornings. His bright blue eyes lit up when he liked something. You’d decided that you didn’t want a big birthday party for him. Just something small, as he wouldn’t remember. Getting Tony not to go overboard was another story. He’d gotten Dominick enough toys for everyone, but they’d already gotten toys, as well. 

It was a bittersweet day. Knowing that his father wasn’t there. And never would be. They knew that you still loved Bucky, and this would make it hard for you.

“JARVIS! Get Tony the video!” You beamed. “Dom is walking!” You clapped as your son waddled towards you. “Come to mommy!” 

“Sir, video from the house for you.” Came JARVIS’s voice one morning. A moment later, he saw Dominick walking to you. He grinned, seeing the pride on your face. 

That’s how time went by. Visits from the team when they could, birthdays and Christmases almost always a promise of them coming. You never asked about Bucky, or how he was.

In time, your heart ached less and less. When Dominick was three, you got a part time job and he went into daycare. That’s when you met a man named Will. The two of you had hit it off right away, but you refused to get too serious at first. You’d been honest about your family- how could you ever hide that you were close with the Avengers? That you used to be one? The two of you had been together six months before they even knew you were seeing someone. It was nearing Dom’s fourth birthday, and you wanted them to all meet then. 

You were pacing the front room while Dom and Will played outback. Nat had texted you that they were almost there, and to say you were nervous was an understatement. Finally, you heard the cars and opened your front door. Smiling as you saw your family, you stepped outside and opened your arms for them. Clint came running, acting like a giant kid who hadn’t seen their favorite relative in awhile. You laughed as he hugged you, lifting you slightly off the ground. “Alright, point me in the direction of the guy I have to threaten.” He said half jokingly. 

“Be nice. Please?” You said as the others came up. “I really like him.” You said honestly. “He’s great with Dom, too.” You added, knowing that was a big concern of theirs. 

Tony kissed your cheek. “I promise I left almost all my suits at home.” He smiled, chuckling as you slapped his arm. “What? I keep one nearby at all times in case of emergencies.” He shrugged. “Where’s my nephew?” He grinned, always loving time with the energetic little boy. 

You chuckled, shaking your head. “He’s outback playing with Will.” You told him. “You can put his presents in the dining room. Are you guys staying the night this year?” Some nights they were able to, other times they had to get back that night. 

Tony shook his head. “I gotta get back.” He told you. “I think that Clint, Nat, and Wanda are staying, though.” He shrugged.

You were relaxing with Wanda and Nat while Clint, Sam, and Steve played with Dom in the yard. Will and Tony were chatting off to the side. “I have a question.” Will glanced at him. “She doesn’t talk about Dom’s father. Ever.” He started. “She explained that she left him before he was born, and that he’s also an Avenger.” Tony nodded. “Does he ask about them? Does he ever wonder where you all vanish to?” He was curious. “Will he just...show up one day?” 

Tony sighed, shaking his head. “He’s never asked. At least not me.” He said honestly. “Not since he asked me about helping her leave him.” He explained. “I have no idea what he thinks we do. I don’t really care, either. None of us talk about them around him, and he doesn’t even have an idea where they are. Hell, for all I know, he might think their in another country.” He mused. “He’s a friend, but they’re family.” He looked to Will. “And I will hurt you if you hurt them.” He said easily. 

“Yeah, Nat threatened me earlier.” Will chuckled nervously. “I’m sure I’d have you all on my back, honestly.” 

“And possibly Y/N. She would wipe the floor with all of us.” Tony told him. “Except maybe Banner. He’s not here. He visits without all of us. I think he likes the break from us ‘bickering’.” Which was true. They did act like a group of kids at times. It was hard, working and living together. “And JARVIS connects them for video chats sometimes.” 

You smiled over at them, thankful that they seemed to get along. 

Everyone was sitting around dinner one evening when an alarm went off. “Sir, there is an emergency at Miss Y/N’s.” JARVIS alerted him. Everyone paled at that. 

“Bring up video. NOW.” Tony demanded, panicked. 

A moment later, there was a video playing. It showed you fighting off a couple assailants. “Where’s Will?!” Nat asked, knowing that just because he didn’t have training, didn’t mean he wouldn’t fight. He loved you and Dom. 

“Dead.” JARVIS told them as your thighs locked around one’s head before slamming him to the floor. Bucky’s eyes never left you. It was clear that you weren’t as sharp as you once were, but you were still holding your own. “He was the first one down. Gun shot.” 

Wanda’s eyes were wide. “Where’s Dom?!” She all but yelled, worried for the boy she saw as her nephew. At almost six, he was more than aware enough that something was going on. “Please don’t tell me they got him, too.” 

“He’s in the safe room.” He said as everyone started rushing out to get to you. “I will continue the feed on the Quinjet.” JARVIS told them. 

It took Bucky a moment to follow, his mind trying to catch up to what was going on. Who the hell was Will? Was Dom your son? His son? Steve stopped him. “Do you think you’re in the right mind for this?” He asked, snapping from his thoughts. “It’s been years since you’ve seen her, and he won’t know who you are.” He added. 

Bucky gave a quick nod. “We need all the men we can get.” He said simply. 

Lying in the safe room, you had Dom’s shirt against your side. While you’d manage to take out most of the men that attacked, you’d also managed to get stabbed. You’d just barely made it to the safe room, locking both you and your son in. “Miss, the others are on their way.” He assured you. “They have a live feed, so they know what to expect.” 

Dom was crying and curled into your side. “Mommy!” He sniffed, shaking. 

“It’ll be okay, baby.” You breathed, trying to convince yourself, as well. You kissed the top of his head, tears in your eyes. You’d seen Will be shot, and were mourning the man that you loved. While trying to comfort your son. 

As soon as they were in your house, they were fighting. “Steve! Get them from the safe room!” Tony called to the super soldier. Sam went with him, knowing that Dom would need comforting, too. They had all seen you get stabbed, and they were all worried. 

Bucky kept as focused as he could. He took out a couple men before he saw Sam carrying you out, followed by Steve holding a little boy. The boy had his little arms around Steve’s neck, his face buried into the side of it. He sucked in a breath, knowing that was his son. He felt guilt wash over him. If he hadn’t said what he did, pushing you out, you wouldn’t be covering Sam in your blood. “Barnes!” Nat snapped at him seconds before a fist collided with his cheek. 

Tony stayed behind to deal with the legal aftermath while the others rushed you back to the tower. Dom never let go of Steve, who sung to him. He rocked him gently, trying to calm him down. Nat stayed by your side, holding some gauze to your wound, worry filling her. She couldn’t lose you. Dom couldn’t lose you. None of them could. 

Dom sniffed, looking up at Steve finally. “Will’s dead. He was gonna be my daddy when they got married.” He said sadly, breaking Steve’s heart. 

“I know, buddy.” He rubbed his back. “We all liked him.” Which was true. Will was a good guy. “Wanna talk about the fun we’ve had with him? Think of happy things?” He tried, not wanting this to be what haunted Dom. Dom chewed on his lip and nodded. “Remember last Christmas? When him and Tony played rock paper scissors over who got to put together your new toy?” He smiled softly. 

He nodded. “Aunt Wanda had it done before they gone done being silly.” He wiped his nose. “Did you know him and Uncle Bruce played the crossword together?” He asked. “They had a book, and they would each try to finish a page faster. Will never won.” He sighed. 

Swallowing, Bucky didn’t know what to do. Dom had no idea who he was, and clearly knew the others really well. Bucky hadn’t even known you were that close! He thought that maybe you’d gone back to where you grew up to raise him. He watched his best friend and the little boy together. It was so weird. Like watching Stevie with a young him. Dom kept his hair long, just like Bucky did. Was that because of you? Or was that what he liked? 

“Who’s the creepy guy watching us, Uncle Steve?” Dom ‘whispered’ to Steve, glancing at Bucky, who looked away. 

Steve sighed. “An old friend of your mom’s.” He told him. “I’m sure she’ll tell you about him when she wakes up.” He rested his cheek on the top of Dom’s head. He felt Dom’s grip on him tighten again. 

It had been touch and go for a few days. Bruce kept you under while the rest of the team looked after Dom. Tony had packed the small boy a bag before making his way back to the tower. He never wanted to be alone, which no one blamed him. He’d never been to the tower before, and he’d just been through something traumatic. The first night there, he had slept in Steve’s room. Which was interrupted by nightmares. JARVIS offered to play music finally, and Dom had been excited to hear the AI’s voice. Growing up with him always there meant he was a huge comfort to him. 

Yawning, Steve carried him down to breakfast the next morning. Nat came over, taking him. “Morning, cutie.” She kissed his cheek. “Wanna help me make breakfast?” She offered, ignoring how Bucky watched them. 

Dom shook his head, but it was Steve that spoke up. “He didn’t sleep well last night. Neither of us did. It wasn’t until he realized JARVIS is here that we got a couple solid hours in.” He told her. “I think it’s just gonna be a lot of cuddling him today.” He rubbed Dom’s back on his way by to get coffee.

“That’s okay. I don’t mind Dom cuddles.” She smiled softly at him. “Maybe later we can go see what Uncle Tony is doing in his labs?” She offered, hoping that would distract him for just a little while. 

“I want my mommy.” Dom told her sadly. He’d never been away from you for long before. Only for daycare, and school. This was new for him, and he didn’t like it. Especially after seeing you covered in blood. “Can I see her?” He asked. 

Nat sighed, not sure what to do. This wasn’t a situation she had ever foreseen. “Let me talk to Uncle Bruce after breakfast, okay?” She offered. “You can color with Aunt Wanda while I do that.” Seeing her nephew sag, but nod, killed her. 

Bucky was never very far from Dom, trying to get to know his son through the others. It was Steve that had noticed it near the end of day three. Sam and Nat were giving Dom a bath (or...trying to), and Steve pulled his best friend to the side. “What the hell?” Bucky glared. 

Steve crossed his arms over his chest. “Why are you all but stalking a six year old?” He asked. “I see him, and you aren’t far.” He pointed out, his eyes daring Bucky to contradict that. “Why?” He questioned again. 

“Because he’s my son.” Bucky shrugged. 

“No, he’s not.” Steve said firmly. “He’s Y/N’s son.” He corrected. He hated this, and hated knowing that he was likely hurting his best friend, but this was what Bucky had wanted. “You can’t have it both ways. You can’t say you don’t want kids, and then suddenly be obsessed with him years later. It took her a long time to move on.” He sighed. “She just lost her fiance, and Dom lost his father figure. Don’t make this harder on them by being weird.” 

Bucky looked down, shaking his head. “I feel guilty, Steve.” He admitted for the first time out loud. “If I hadn’t been so against kids, if she didn’t hear me, then they wouldn’t have been in that house. She wouldn’t be fighting for her life, and he wouldn’t think of me as the ‘creepy guy’. She’d be safe. They would have been safe.” He told him. 

Steve gave him a sad smile. “You can’t blame yourself.” He said gently. “You don’t want kids. Not everyone does.” 

“Because I was afraid of them getting hurt. I’m a monster. They’re better off without me.” 

He stared at him. “What?” He asked, confused. Not once did Bucky ever mention this when he’d told him he didn’t want kids years ago. 

“You think I want to screw up some kid because they got stuck with a monster for a father?” He asked, finally looking up at Steve. “They’re better off without me. Or, so I thought.” 

This honestly changed how Steve felt. He’d wanted nothing more than protect you, and Dom, from Bucky. From being hurt more by him. “Buck…” He sagged. “You aren’t a monster.” Hearing that he felt he was killed him. “Not even close.” 

Bucky went to argue, but a small body went running by them, followed by Sam, and Nat. Dom was giggling, clearly making this into a game. “Come on, kid.” Sam called out. “It’s getting close to your bedtime!” 

“Dominick Paul.” Nat said seriously, trying very hard not to laugh. He stopped in his tracks, knowing that meant trouble. He turned and looked up at her, his bottom lip our slightly. “If you let me get you ready for bed, you can sleep in my room tonight.” She crouched, holding up his pajamas. 

He sighed. “Fine.” He agreed. 

Bucky swallowed before walking away. Steve let him go, wanting to give him a moment alone before he went to talk to him again. 

You groaned as you came to. “Ow.” You whined. 

“Take it easy.” Came Bruce’s voice. “You’re in the tower, you and Dom are safe.” He assured you, knowing that’s where your mind would go next. 

Licking your lips, you looked over at him. “How’s he holding up?” You worried about how he was handling this. 

Bruce sat on the side of your bed. “He’s doing okay. First night he had a lot of nightmares. Took  him realizing that JARVIS is here to let him and Steve get some sleep.” He explained. “He’s always with one of the team. He calls Bucky the ‘creepy guy’, by the way.” You groaned, knowing that you’d be coming face to face with him eventually. “He’s sleeping in Nat’s room tonight. I’ll let them know he can come say hi in the morning.” 

“Thanks, Bruce.” You patted his hand. “I can’t believe Will is gone.” You managed, tearing up. Everything was hitting you again. 

“We’re all sorry for your loss.” He kissed your forehead as the doors opened. “Hi, Steve.” He looked over. 

“JARVIS told me she was awake.” Steve explained. “I was hoping I could talk to  her for a minute?” You had a right to know what Bucky had told him. 

Getting up, Bruce nodded. “I’ll go get you something to eat. After I’ll check your side.” He told you, heading out to give you two some privacy. The look on Steve’s face told him that it was important. 

Steve smiled as he sat where Bruce had been. “So…” How the hell was this supposed to come out? “I talked to Bucky tonight. Confronted him, because he’s been ‘stalking’ Dom as I put it.” You sucked in a breath, worried. Why would he do that? You didn’t think he’d hurt Dom, but it made no sense. “He feels guilty. He’s blaming himself for you getting hurt, and for Dom being put in the position to see all that.” He went on. “I told him he couldn’t have it both ways. He couldn’t not want kids, and then follow Dom around the damn tower. If I saw Dom, I saw Bucky.” 

“Bruce says Dom calls him the ‘creepy guy’. I get that now.” You noted. 

He let out a small chuckle. “Yeah, he started calling him that on the Quinjet.” He nodded. “Bucky told me why he didn’t want kids.” 

“Because he doesn’t? Remember, I heard him.” It felt like you were reopening new wounds. 

“He thinks he’s a monster, Y/N.” His voice was soft. “He didn’t want to screw up a kid by him being their father. He thinks you two are simply better off without him.” He held your hand, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. “He’d never mentioned it before today. Not even a hint.”  

You stared at him. “What?” You finally breathed. You had no idea how the hell to process this. “C-can I have some time alone to think?” You asked, tearing up. You were so overwhelmed with everything that had been thrown at you. 

Steve nodded, giving your hand a squeeze. “Just have JARVIS call for me if you need me.” He told you. “I’m sorry that I just laid this on you after everything, but I thought you had a right to know. Before you saw him again.” 

Nodding, you gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Steve.” 

Not being able to lift Dom was hard as hell. Bruce had released you, but you had a weight limit of what you could lift, and were told to keep it easy. It had only been five days since the attack on your home. Coming down to lunch, you smiled at your family. It faded as you spotted Bucky. “Hi, Bucky.” You gave him a small wave, seeing him for the first time since you were twenty weeks pregnant with Dom. 

“Mommy!” Dom beamed, running over to hug your leg. He smiled up at you as you ran your hand through his hair. “I missed you.” He told you, even though he’d been visiting you. 

Bucky watched how you interacted with Dom, chewing on the inside of his lip. Would you be moving out again? Would you be staying at the tower? Would you tell Dom who he was? Would you ever be able to look at him without that pain in your eyes? 

You sat down, Dom dragging his chair as close as he could to yours. “So, what’s for lunch?” You asked, just wanting to move forward at the moment. You’d have a funeral to plan, choices to make, and you just couldn’t deal with it right that second. You needed to just be thankful for your family. 

[seoksgrl]

rather be dead than cool, 1 : jjk nerd!jungkook x popular!reader college au, dislike to love genderbent shes all that au

tws: some slight bullying (?), rich people being rich people

m.list

next

One thing could be said for you, and that is that you’re an overachiever. You set your goals way too high (some might say) and then struggle to reach them (also up for debate). 

Since you were a youngster clicking around the nursery yard in baby Gucci from head to toe, you’ve always known you were destined for greater things than the bumbling little town you happened to be born in. If it weren’t for your father building a large technology empire in your formative years, perhaps you would have turned out differently. But he raised you to work hard and to take everyone you know with a pinch of salt. 

High school had been a breeze, popularity and good genes meant you had many friends, but your father always reminded you that people could be bought. They always needed something from you, whether it be an elevation in social status or just a bite of your granola bar, your friends had motives. And you respected them when you were upfront about it.

As expected, you got straight A’s, entered one of the top colleges and built an appropriate social circle. Some call you conceited, shallow, rude - you’re just you. If they don’t like it, you don’t waste any more of your time. People didn’t affect you as much as they did your friends, especially boyfriends. You’d grown up with the knowledge your father instilled in you, meaning that when Park Jimin ended things with you, there wasn’t a tear spilled or an ounce of makeup smudged. 

Jimin had been your boyfriend for the longest of the guys you dated in college - lasting a whole year, in fact. He was good for your popularity, something you’ve grown to enjoy. Why feel bad for taking advantage of something you have no control over? You dated him, now you don’t. You can easily move on and find someone else, or not. You’re well aware of the fact you don’t need anyone. 

Your friends don’t think the same way, however. 

“Oh my god!” Irene gasps, her dainty, ring-adorned hand falls on the shoulder of your Prada sweater and you resist the urge to shrug it off. After all, a snag would just be inconvenient, and those rings house many gaudy diamonds, “Are you okay?”

The question isn’t surprising to you - people have asked you every time you’ve had a break up. The answer is always the same.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Mina’s brows pull together, and you wonder if she waxed them herself. They’re looking uneven, “Well, you guys were together for so long. I mean...did he dump you?”

You shrug, scrolling through Instagram, mainly Jimin’s posts from Spring Break are all that clog your feed. He ended - you both ended things a week before he left. You pause momentarily on a photo of him with what appears to be a cheerleader and close the app. 

“It was mutual,” You check over your acrylics, happy with the peach colour. It matches perfectly with your purse, “I’m good. Really,”

Mina and Irene don’t look convinced, though you truly do feel okay. It wasn’t like you were in love with Jimin or anything - you’d said it to each other, but really, how do you know when you’re in love. Nobody tells you how you’re supposed to feel. Jimin had said it, and so you replied with the same. You had your own way of knowing you didn’t feel much more for Jimin beyond simply liking him, and it was the same measure you used for all friendships and relationships. 

If you were planning to go to the movies, would you want to go with Jimin, or go alone?

The answer had always been alone. Jimin was a talker - he didn’t really watch the movie, and the couple times the two of you had chilled at his place with the TV on, he’d texted or tried to initiate sex with you. The idea of Jimin texting in the movie theatre made you irrationally angry. And so, you always went alone. 

“Jimin was cute,” Mina says suddenly, as if she had thought about it for some time, “You two were like...the It couple. You know?”

It wasn’t a secret to you that your relationship with Jimin had caught some attention in the social circles on campus. Things in a prestigious school such as Yonsei University worked a lot like high school - there are still the familiar cliques you would expect, and as such, you are known as one of the most popular individuals on campus. Popular and well-liked are not, as most might believe, mutually exclusive. You’re aware that some people dislike you, but it’s hard to care. How can they dislike you without knowing you?

“I mean,” You laugh, brushing away a stray hair from your bangs, “Jimin only got popular after we started dating,” And it was true. You would never lie about such a thing, “I feel like I could date anyone and we could become the It couple on campus. Almost everyone we know is single,”

Mina scoffs, a rice cake inches from her lips, “I could date, I just choose not to,”

Irene is the next to speak, her attention moving from your friend to you, “So, what are you saying? You made Jimin the man he is today?” She speaks through her laughter, but you don’t know why. It’s the truth - and you’re not even trying to be up your own ass about it either. 

“Yeah,” You reply, short and sweet, “Making a guy into high class material isn’t difficult. Men are pliable, like clay. You just mould them into what you need,”

Before you and Jimin became official, he was cute. But he wasn’t the kind of cute you would usually date. There was something inside you that yearned for a challenge, something to occupy your time. Doing well on assignments and quizzes was too easy for you. Thanks to your father’s money, he’d bought you the best tutor available to you and so you’re always pretty clued up on what you need to know in class before the semesters begin. 

“You know what,” Irene adjusts her bag on her shoulder, settling herself on the bench beside you. Class is in ten minutes, and you should really start walking, but before you can suggest it, her hand is diving inside her purse and pulling out a cheque book. It has daisies on the pages, and from what you can tell, it’s new, “My dad has lowered my allowance after I put a dent in his Jag. I could use some extra money,” Her smile turns devious, a little like when you were in high school and she confessed to shoplifting a jacket she was wearing, “How about we make this interesting, since you’re so confident?”

Mina is standing in front of the two of you now, cheeks stuffed full with rice cake and she bundles the wrapper in her fist, listening intently. 

You’re not just confident - you’re stubborn. And it was this, you would later realise, that would be your downfall, “Go on,”

“You have until the spring formal,” Irene writes on the cheque, her handwriting flows smoothly, little hearts adorning the i’s, “to turn some random dude into the newest campus hot boy,”

You chuckle, lips preparing to speak before Irene shushes you with the pen.

“To make this a fair bet, Mina will choose the guy,”

Irene wasn’t wrong, you were confident. So confident in fact that the concept of Mina choosing the guy you had to reinvent didn’t phase you at all. In fact, the fire of a new challenge began to build in your gut, and so you agreed, without even knowing what the prize would be. 

“If you win,” Irene speaks, “you get my car,”

Irene’s car is gorgeous, a white Porsche that her father had custom made for her twentieth birthday. Nobody else has anything like it in the world, let alone on campus. The idea of having it for yourself is more than appealing, “And if you win?” 

You raise your brow, waiting for Irene’s answer and fully expecting what you hear fall from her lips, “I get your Tiffany bangle,”

Irene had her eyes on your most prized piece of jewellery ever since you stepped on campus with it after Christmas with your grandma in Paris. Like the Porsche, the bangle was also custom made, and you believed it was probably worth just as much. Confident in your ability to create a new campus It boy, you agree. 

“Great,” Irene smirks, “If this guy doesn’t win Spring King at the formal, we’ll consider it as your loss. Happy with those terms?”

Anyone could win that plastic crown, you’re absolutely sure of it, and so you raise your manicured hand and shake it with that of your friend, sealing the deal and leaving the next part of the bet in the hands of Mina, who stands watching the whole exchange. 

The three of you agree to meet after class, during the free period you all share just after lunch. Your morning passes without issue, mostly because you had already read the book you’re studying during the summer. Now halfway through your senior year, it’s imperative that you remain on top of your game, but with your extra tutoring and excellent average, you have a feeling that would be straight forward. 

By the time you meet up with Mina and Irene again, Mina’s hair is just beginning to fluff up thanks to the humidity carried by the change in season. Spring is slowly morphing into summer, and the grass is at its greenest. As the other students laze about in the April sunshine, you and the girls seat beneath the shade of an old oak with rough bark and thick, flat leaves to shield you all from the rising temperature. 

“Mina thinks she may have found the perfect candidate for our little bet,” Irene begins, luxuriating on the grass, combing the long, black tresses of her hair with her fingers. Mina nods, halfway through braiding her own hair in an effort to quell its frizz, “If you manage to pull this one off, I’ll be very impressed,”

Mina finishes her work, letting her long braid hang over her shoulder before she crosses her legs, leaning forward to speak directly to you, “On my way to chem, I saw the Jeon boy,”

“Jeon?” The name rings a bell, perhaps from high school or middle school, but you can’t think of who Mina could be talking about off the top of your head, “Who is that?”

“Jeon Jeongguk,” She clarifies, “He’s in my art class - a photography major as far as I can tell. He takes fine art as a minor,”

“Do you have a picture? I’d like to at least know what I’m working with here,”

Mina pulls her cell out, just as Irene sits up, looking over your shoulder with a sly grin, “Looks like he heard you. He’s walking over there,”

What you expect to see, you aren’t quite sure. In your mind you’d pictured someone a little more...rough around the edges. Jeon Jeongguk is rough, definitely, but he seems to have a strange, delicate aura about him. From what you can make out as he walks across the back towards the library, he has long, dark hair - gathered up in a rushed pony that springs out the back of his head. He keeps his head down as he walks, clad in oversized sweats and a matching sweater, large backpack over one shoulder. He doesn’t look at anyone as he passes them, and it’s only when he looks up at the library that you see the white wire of his earphones swing into sight. 

From this distance, you can’t exactly know for sure, but you can already think of a few pointers regarding his style. The blank, unapproachable expression on his face intrigues you, and there’s that nagging sense of challenge within you that wants to get through to him. To do that, you will have to plan an approach. 

“What do you think?” Irene asks, and you turn back to your friends just as Jeongguk disappears into the building, “I did a little digging with some of the students in my class. He’s a loner from what I hear - a virgin. An excellent canvas,” 

With a shrug, you pop a raspberry into your mouth from the bento box sitting in your lap, “Doesn’t seem like too much work,” You grin, firmly confident in your abilities. The desire to prove yourself wins over everything else, and you continue with lunch, mentally planning a way to turn Jeongguk from loner to It boy in six weeks. 

What you’re doing right now isn’t exactly stalking, more like research. Shades perched on the bridge of your nose, you peek over them to where the Jeon boy is sitting; the target of your bet with Irene. The very same guy who will win you that Porsche. 

It’s a mere twenty-four hours since Irene proposed this bet, and you’ve skipped labs solely to begin your job as soon as possible, paying a girl to take notes for you and cover should your professor ask questions about your absence. No middle aged man can compete against a good menstrual cramp story. During said time, a half hour so far, you’ve learned some small things about Jeon Jeongguk. His hair looks damaged, grown out far too long and unkept for his face shape - a face shape that is, surprisingly, not bad. From this distance anyway. Said hair is currently hanging around his face, like a curtain, shielding him off from the world. He’d stayed like that for some time, and until a familiar student in junior year walked by, you hadn’t thought much of it. 

But then, something peculiar and, quite frankly, hard to watch happened. Jeon Jeongguk, famed loner of Yonsei’s esteemed campus, stood up and attempted to talk to the girl. As you’d lowered your shades, her face came into focus and you recognised her from one of the christmas parties you’d attended. Sana, her name was - very pretty, very shy. Though, from what you witnessed, not shy enough to shut Jeongguk down. 

And now here you are, almost fifteen minutes since the whole embarrassing affair happened, and Jeongguk successfully retreated once Sana left, crouching on the grass in a shady corner by the arts building, scribbling in a notebook. He hasn’t moved an inch since. 

You grin to yourself, going over the miniscule events over the past forty five minutes staring - no, observing Jeongguk, realising this is your in. This is how you’re going to get this guy to agree to the makeover of his college career. Everyone wins; you win your bet, and the chance to retain your impeccable track record, and Jeongguk gets the girl. Nobody will be able to resist Jeon Jeongguk when you’re done with him. As much as you hate to admit it, he’s not totally hopeless.

One thing your friends don’t know is that Jeongguk isn’t all that bad. Minus the overalls, haphazard man-bun and a complete lack of social skills. Okay, so he won’t turn into a stud overnight - so what? Hard work births the best results and at least you have a starting point: the guy’s tall. You know you can make this work.

You have no issues with approaching Jeon, sashaying over the patch of grass between you until you’re all but casting a shadow on his notebook. There’s some faint scratches of black, rushed and wild on the page, though he snatches it away before you can really see what it is, glancing up at you beneath his hand, shielding his hands from the final bursts of winter sunshine. 

He doesn’t respond to your outstretched hand, and upon further inspection, you note the ink staining his knuckles and digits, thinking better of your introduction and letting your hand fall back to your side. 

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” You grin brightly, a smile that has won you many a debate, “Y/N,”

“I know who you are,” Is all he says before he’s looking back down at his notebook, flipping it closed with a finality that indicates he believes your interaction is over. You frown. Jeongguk stands, and you realise how right you were about his height. The guy towers over you, enough so that now the roles are reversed, and you are the one shielding your eyes from the bright sky. 

“You do? I can’t say I’m surprised,” You reply, winning smile fixed back on your lips, your resolve as hard as steel, “I’m head of student government,”

Jeongguk doesn’t reply to that, he just gives you a weary once over and starts walking. Very rude, you can’t help but think. Though you won’t be deterred - you have a bet to win, after all. Your legs carry you across the grass, working a little harder in an effort to catch up with Jeon’s strides. He seems eager to get away from you, and that only makes you more determined to win him over. 

“I would have thought you’d welcome some social interaction,” You huff out, almost out of breath as you shuffle behind Jeongguk, his broad shoulders hunched as he approaches the sidewalk, heading to one of the buildings close to the science block. If your professor sees that you skipped class to talk to some guy, Jeon Jeongguk no less, you will be in danger of damaging your flawless reputation. 

Jeongguk scoffs at your words, though you barely hear it above the sound of your own breathing, and he leaves you no choice but to bring out the big guns earlier than planned.

“I noticed you were talking to my friend, Sana,”

He stops in his tracks, a great sigh heaving from his massive shoulders, and he turns, facing you with a look of trepidation and curiosity. His eyes are impossibly big, like really - you can’t believe someone can have such huge, doe-like eyes. He looks down at you, almost through you, and it has you blinking away for a moment. 

“You...know Sana?” He asks, his voice full to the brim with weariness, and you almost feel sorry for the guy. But, you’re not that nice of a person. 

“I do,” You smile, hiding the fact your lungs ache for you to take a full breath. It’s a lie, but only a little one. You’re the most popular girl on campus, Sana knows who you are. “I noticed you guys talking earlier,”

At this, he blushes, a faint bloom of red in his cheeks that looks so out of place on a face that was almost scowling at you moments prior. He clears his throat, apparently reigning in any outward evidence of his crush, fixing you with a confused frown, “You noticed?”

Fuck. “I was in the area. You don’t own the quad you know,”

You escape his scrutiny, just barely, and he lands another question on you. His hesitation isn’t surprising to you - after all, this morning you didn’t know this guy existed, you can’t blame him for being suspicious about someone suddenly prying into his life. But you’re stubborn, and eager to win. Your competitiveness can get you into the strangest situations if you let it, so when Jeongguk asks why you’re interested in him and Sana (or the absence of him and Sana), you know exactly what to say. 

“Well, I know Sana,” As you have said, despite it being a lie, “and if you wanna get her attention, you’re not gonna do it looking the way you do,”

His frown is back again, and he almost resembles a kicked puppy. 

“The template is fine. Basically, you just need some new clothes, a hair change. I can help - I like seeing my friends happy, and you don’t seem like an axe murderer or anything,” You flash him your winning smile again, and this time, it seems to be well-received, “Let me help. I’m acing all my classes, please give me something to do. I’m bored,”

He shoots you a look of mild bewilderment before he considers your proposal, still hesitant. Though, he glances behind you, eyes lighting up and you follow his line of sight towards where the girl in question stands, sitting with her friends. Sana is completely unaware of the way Jeongguk stares after her like a hungry mouse, innocence playing across his features, and you wonder if he’s as pure deep down in his soul as Irene implied. There’s a softness to him that continues to intrigue you the longer you stand here, watching him pine after his crush, and you’re only awoken from your inner thoughts when Jeongguk’s eyes meet yours, a little too wide having found you already watching him. 

“Okay,” He says, eyes once more finding Sana in the background, “I’ll let you help me,”

[lovezbrownies]

Is this an act of love? (Yan!Military Chief x GN!Reader.)

Masterlist

Synopsis: You ignore your wife in favor of a book, which has her infuriarated. But what happens when you become upset over the destruction of the book?

Gen Ludenhart x Reader

Warnings: Past physical torture to reader, reader fears Gen, Gen threatens you, no use of Y/N, possible minor character death.

It’s been 5 years since you’ve been forced to marry Gen Ludenhart. You had tried as hard as you could to get away from her— yet she always found you and when she did she would make it very clear how upset she was with you. Using various methods of torture, letting you stew in the pain and suffering before healing you with her magic. The honorable Chief of Military Gen Ludenhart was all but honorable.

However, now that 3 years have passed since your last failure you’ve accepted the situation. You will only ever die if your wife allows it, which means you’re essentially immortal. Since you’ve been so good, Gen would buy you everything you’d want, no matter the price. This meant you had every new gadget and every book that has ever piqued your interest.

You were okay with this arrangement. At least now you aren’t being tortured, and you can focus on whatever activity you want– well with your clingy wife in tow, but you’ve gotten used to her presence and can completely forget if she was there to begin with. Which brings up the newest issue in your marriage with the coddling devil.

The past two months you’ve been obsessed with this book series that Gen bought for you one random day. It was a very long series with very long books, so to say the least it has consumed much of your time. Whenever Gen would nag you over the lack of attention you would hum, give her a hug, a few pats on the head and you’d go back to reading the story. Gen usually wasn’t bothered by your occasional hyper fixation on certain things, they always come and go, you’ll always come back to her for affections.

Yet. Gen stood behind the library’s couch tapping her foot furiously against the floor. “Well? Aren’t you going to greet me, my love.” Her voice was angry and strained, glaring down at your laid back form, you were relaxed and very immersed into your book. So much so that you hadn’t heard your wife call out for you when she got back home. “Hm..? Oh, uh, sorry…  I’m… a bit busy…” You’d trail off every now and then from how focused you were on reading how the main character is going to triumph in her final battle.

Gen, tired with all the lack of affection, yanked the book out of your hands. “Hey!! Give it back! I haven’t finished it yet!!” You got up, reaching for your book but Gen hid it behind her back. Pushing you back down on the couch she began lecturing you about how hurt she felt over how you’ve been neglecting her recently. But in all honesty every word went in one ear and out the other, all your brain could possibly think of was the book and how the hero will prevail in her battle.

Your wife knew that you weren’t there at all, you’d do the same expression anytime you wished to escape the harsh reality and put yourself into your fantasy worlds. Sighing she softly threw the book next to you. “Nevermind, just come to me when you finish the stupid book. I will know if you don’t.” You smiled as you tried to find the page you were last on, Gen walked away dejected and hurt.

Thankfully you weren’t stupid, and immediately went to her when you finished the series, finally. But this is not how she wanted it to be. You and Gen lying on her bed, your body on top of hers, head snuggling into her chest as you blabbered on about the book’s hero, Liya something or other. “-And then as soon as the battle ended Liya looked all over for her lover, but she found them half dead, and so with the last bit of her power she gave it all away just to make sure her lover stays alive, then-”

Gen loved that you were talking to her with little to no fear but if she hears you squeal over this Liya woman one more time she might kill the author and burn every copy of the series. “Darling,” Gen cut off your rambling. “Has anything else happened to you today? Have you left that book at all? Gone out for a bit of fresh air, hm?” You looked up at her, shook your head no, and continued with what you were saying. Gen could only rub her hands across your back and nod along whenever you looked up to check if she was actually listening.

It’s been a long tiring week, most of the time Gen’s been busy with work, so when she would come home she would always ask for peace and quiet and for you to cuddle her to sleep. Come Friday morning, what she didn’t expect was to wake up and find you reading one of the wretched books of the series. It’s been a little over a week since you’ve finished the series and you’re still consuming that garbage? 

Usually in these types of situations she’d let you go shopping with her, but not even the outside world can pull you away from the imaginary fairytale you’ve been so obsessed over. “Dear. Get back to sleep.” Gen commanded, she used a tone of voice she knew you feared, and yet, it had no effect. “Yes, Gen, just a moment… One more chapter…” Gen sighed, her anger bubbling up. “No. No moments. No chapters. Sleep now or I’ll burn every book I’ve bought you.” Thankfully this time you listened, your body tensed as you quickly put the book down on your bedside table and laid back down. You woke up an hour later to Gen’s arms caging you to her, not allowing you to pick up your book at all.

You tried as hard as you could to weasel your way out of her grasp and run off to the library with your beloved book. Gen only squeezed you harder, pulled you tighter, and buried her head into you further. She was tired of your games, maybe this was some sick twisted way of getting back at her for all the pain she’s inflicted upon you.

Today, Gen finally managed to pull you away from your fantasy world and outside to a restaurant. Yet you still kept talking about the book, well that was before Gen cut you off. “One more word about that book and I will slam you on this table and fuck you in front of everyone here.” Her voice was low and threatening, the threat shocking you into silence you didn’t dare speak, allowing Gen to dominate the conversation as she usually does.

Today’s outing was actually quite enjoyable for once, aside from that one threat, all went smoothly. Gen took you out to your favorite restaurant, let you go wild in your favorite stores, and then finally went to the park to enjoy the scenery and eat ice cream together, which you were currently doing. It almost felt like a normal relationship, but it wasn’t, you won’t dwell on that however since it only ever brings pain.

At the moment you were both sitting on one of the park benches, ice creams in hand. “Gen?” Your wife hums in response, you snuggled closer to her side. “I really appreciated what you did for me today.” Oh. Oh, she could just eat you whole. Her sweet spouse. If she can keep this up for a while you might completely forget about that stupid character and focus on her once again. “Anything for you, honey. I love you.” Of course you never reciprocate her “I love you’s’’ but it doesn't matter. A little more solitude and isolation will fix that.

Gen and you finally made it home, it’s now late at night you move ahead of your wife, looking around for your book in the living room. “Oh would you look at that, my love, you walked 10,000 steps! We should go ou-” A sharp pained gasp interrupted Gen. Gen, concerned, hurried over to the fireplace, where you stood. Looking down at the blazing fire she saw small remnants of your book, used as fire kindle.

It was quite- No, it was silent, not a single peep was uttered. You were staring down at the fire, emotionless, while Gen was solely focused on you and your reactions. You just stood there, unmoving, unchanging. “Do you want me to buy the books again, dear?” Gen broke the silence, trying her hardest to stay cool, so you don’t break down in tears. If this has been at the beginning of your relationship she wouldn’t have been so quick to offer something like that, she’d tell you to suck it up and move on. You’ve obviously affected her over the years.

Meanwhile, you stood still, unfeeling. You knew she’d do something like this, Gen’s loyal little maid. Reina. “No… It’s fine. This was inevitable.”  Inevitable? What the hell are you talking about? Gen frowned, she turned her body fully to you, head tilted to the side. “What do you mean ‘inevitable’? How would the torching of your beloved books be inevitable, my love?” For the first time you finally showed a hint of emotion. Your lips pursed, your eyebrows furrowed and you turned to sit on one of the armchairs in the room.

Gen followed after you, kneeling on her knees in front of your seated form, her eyes begging for an answer. Wow, did she turn soft. Gen grabbed your hands, engulfing them in her much larger hands. A sigh escaped out of you, noticing how open she’s been emotionally, how loving she’s being, how sincere. “I- Well. You’ve been so open about how you’ve hated my books… I just thought eventually you would do something about it,” You looked off to the side sheepishly, not used to being so vulnerable to her.

You continued, ‘’I thought you’d probably tell Reina to burn it while we were gone and I guess I’m right…” Gen frowned, never would she ever do something like that! Why in the world would you ever assume that! Sure she threatened to burn the damned books for a while but they were all empty threats! You had to have known she was just kidding! Right? But then it clicked. The only person to be able to do something like that would be Reina. Sure the mansion has its fair share of servants but Reina served the parts of the mansion you resided in.

Gen got up, gave you a quick kiss on your head and said, “Give me a moment, dear, this will all be resolved soon.” You stared at her as she walked off, curious as to what would happen. You wanted to follow after her and see what she’s doing but knowing her she probably is going to rage at Reina. So you stayed put, not wanting to incur her wrath anymore. You’ve experienced enough pain for a lifetime.

And it seems you were eternally grateful for not following her. The next day Gen told you to accompany her and interview new personal servants for your wing of the mansion. You don’t know what happened to Reina and you did not want to know. She never really liked you to begin with. So why bother to worry for her?

‘Gen’s attitude is rubbing off on me too much…’

[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me Part 7 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: I am having a bad day and what I wouldn't get to have these two take care of me right now.

Warning: Dom Steddie/ Plus Size Sub reader and all that that implies! (I regret nothing!) , Jealous Steddie as well, Degrading, slapping, first time use of titles (we'll be seeing more of that from here on in), Billy being a dick to Steve. I think that's all. Smut, a dash of fluff, with a sprinkle of angst.

Word Count: 4055

This past summer was more than perfect. Spending two months in New York was the break you desperately needed from Hawkins and all the stress that came with it. You did miss Eddie and Steve but it was nice to be away from them for a while to clear your mind. You called them a couple of times but it was hard to be on the phone for long in house full of people. 

When you got back home, you were ready to start your senior year. You had bought a whole new wardrobe, wanting to show people like Tommy and Carol you weren’t the same meek, scared girl anymore. 

“Holy shit. Is that my sexy best friend?”, Masie grinned as she picked you up from your house on the first day. “You look so good.”

“Thank you.” You flashed her your silky, red tank top under Eddie’s leather jacket. The blue jean shorts showed off your legs and the cute black, velvet boots made you feel extremely powerful. 

“I missed you so much.” You smile as she leans over to give you hug. 

The school was full of electricity with student’s hugging each other and comparing class schedules. You couldn’t help but giggle when some of the boys did a double take as you walked by. 

“Hm. I guess you’re going to be popular this year.” She smiles as she links her arm into yours. “Eddie Munson definitely has some competition.”

“Oh my god, Maze. Let it go!”, you sigh, rolling your eyes as you point to a room across from you both. “This is my first class.”

“Alright. I’ll see you at lunch later, okay?”

“Ah, Miss Y/N. I saw you were in my class this year. Hopefully you’ll behave, yeah?” Mr. C smiled with you nodded. “Good. I gave Steve the same warning. Now I’m just waiting for—”

Eddie skids into the classroom with his hands high into the air. “Mr. C! My favorite teacher!”

“Mhmm. Mr. Munson, please, for my old heart can you keep it together for me this year?”

“No promises.” Red paints your face as the metalhead’s eyes finally land on you, drinking you in. “But who knows. Obviously, people can surprise you. Hey sweetheart.”

“Ay yi yi. Ok, none of that. Both of you take a seat.”

As you turn, your eyes meet Steve’s as he lets out a shaky breath and flashes you a tender smile. Unfortunately, there weren’t three seats together so you were a bit farther from them than you would have preferred but at least you had one class together. 

You hadn’t realized how much you actually missed them until they were in front of you again. Eddie still looked the same with his torn up blue jeans and heavy metal shirt blanketed under the smell of cigarette smoke. Steve had grown his hair out a bit more and seemed like he got some sun this summer. Currently, they were radiating that softness that you enjoyed when they were taking care of you. 

That was short lived however when a new face entered the classroom. 

You’d be lying if you didn’t say you thought the boy that came in was incredibly attractive. His blue eyes penetrated your own as he sauntered over and stopped at the seat in front of yours. 

“Hey, man. Do you mind finding another desk?”, he asked the boy sitting in the desk. When he didn’t immediately stand, his beautiful eyes clouded over with intensity. “Move. Now.”

The kid promptly collected his things and quickly shuffled away as the man grinned, turning to you as he extended his hand. “I’m Billy Hargrove. What’s your name, pretty girl?”

“I’m, uh, I’m Y/N.”

Billy smirked as you stuttered out your answer. There was something intimating about the man in front of you that scared you slightly but not in the same way Eddie and Steve had. The boys originally frightened you because of the way they made you feel. Billy, on the other hand, had this air about him that practically screamed he liked things his way whether you liked it or not. You imagined he knew how to satisfy a woman but with that extra sense of arrogance he wasn’t going to stay with one for long. 

As you scanned the room again, you found both Eddie and Steve glaring at him with immense anger. Shit. This may be a long year.

#########

The rest of the day went by much too slowly for your liking. You found out you did have one more class each with the guys and you three still shared a lunch period. As the day went on though they started to feel more distant as they huffed at the people around you who gawked as you walked by. 

After your basketball practice as you and the team started to head in to get showered and leave for the day, you passed the guys team having their own practice.

As you entered the gym, you noticed Eddie leaning against the risers with his arms folded as he watched the display in front of him. Billy was in front of Steve bouncing the basketball mockingly in front of him as he cockily grinned in his direction. 

“What’s going on?”

Eddie glanced at you before turning back to the court. 

“Seems your new boyfriend is trying to take Steve’s place on the team.”

“Really? My boyfriend.”, you sighed as you rolled your eyes.

“Roll your eyes like that again, Y/N. I dare you.” His eyes never leave the game as he speaks. “Seems this summer made you believe things are different. I’m sorry, sweetheart, but they aren’t. We still own you.”

“What makes you angrier, Eddie? The fact he sat in front of me or the fact that he showed more control by moving someone to sit with me? Makes you wonder else he’d do to be near me.”

As if on cue, Billy shoulder checks Steve knocking him to the ground as he runs around him to make a basket. The teams claps as he grins before he notices you watching, giving a subtle wink before focusing on the game again. 

“Hm. I can’t wait to tell Steve you said that. I’m very curious to see what he thinks.”

With that you turn and head for the locker room as nerves fill your stomach. You’re going to regret saying that but you weren’t sure how or where it would come from. 

############

They practically ignored you for the rest of the week which made you both furious and heartbroken. You spent all summer missing them even falling asleep in Steve’s sweatshirt or Eddie’s jacket just to have them close in some way. Why weren’t they as desperate to have you as you were to have them?

“Hey, pretty girl.” You head swiveled around to meet Billy’s cocky smile as he threw his shirt on the risers behind you while you were sitting in the gym during your free period. “Come to watch me play?” Steve passed you both, his eyes full of fire as he walked by. “Oh, I see. You have crush on ‘King’ Steve Harrington. Trust me, baby girl. He’s not worth your time.”

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me things like that.”

“Ooo… do I have to earn it? I’m really good at that game.”

He chuckles as he runs out onto the court and the team begins practice. Billy is just as ruthless as he was the last time you watched them practice, him taunting Steve any chance he could but like the fighter he was Steve was always right back in front of him trying to take the ball. 

“Do you know she has a crush on you? Is that way you’re trying so hard, Harrington?” Billy shoves around him, knocking him down as he makes a basket. You get to your feet and run to help him up, but the other boy beats you reaching out his hand for him to take. “Oh, I get it. You like her to. This is going to be fun for me.” He chuckles as he pushes Steve back down to the floor. 

Your hand reaches for his and he aggressively smacks it out of the way, jumping to his feet and exiting the double doors to the outside the gym. Running after him, you find him pacing as he fumes. 

“Steve? Are you okay?”

When you extend your hand again, his palms grip either side of your face as he backs you against the brick wall, crashing his lips to yours. You mewled at the taste of him as you pulled his hips to yours. 

“You think he shows more control than we do? That he’d do anything to be with you?”

“Steve—”

He cut you off with his mouth on yours as he unbuttoned your jeans and slid his hand through the waistband of your panties. You moaned, gripping the back of his neck as his fingers breached your entrance. 

“You really did forget a lot while you were away. This pussy and your body belong to us. Only we can make you feel this good.” All you can do is nod as he steadily builds you up. “You think because you come home with this new look and attitude that you can do better than us?”

“No…no, Steve. I—mmm—I only want you two. I missed you both so much.” He curled his fingers inside of you practically lifting you on to your toes as you hand flew down to grab his wrist. “Steve, please.”

Your other hand tugged on his sweaty shirt as your head fell to his chest, your moans muffled as you came. You continued to pant as he removed his hand and buttoned your jeans back around your waist. “Don’t let him get under your skin.” Your tone was soft as you pressed your body to his. 

Steve sighed heavily before you felt his arms finally wrap around you. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“I don’t either. He calls me names you guys call me and it just feels weird.”

“Weird how?” His tone shifts back into authoritative as he pulls your head back to look at your face. “Does he make you uncomfortable? We can talk to him. I can knock him on his ass.”

“No, baby, no. Don’t worry about him. Just ignore him. I, um, I hope it’s ok but I got you guys something while I was gone. Can I come over after school and give them to you?”

“Yeah, of course.” You grin as he kisses your forehead before running back into the gym.

############

“Where are your parents?”

“Uh, my dad is in Europe…I think…and my mom went with him.”, Steve shrugs as Eddie lights a cigarette and leans back against one of the lawn chairs by the pool. 

“I hear you bought us things.”

Smiling, you reach into your bag and hand them each a box. Steve beams as he holds up a pair of sunglasses and places them over his eyes. 

“They’re like the ones Tom Cruise wears in that movie you like.”

“Risky Business. Yeah! How do I look? Do I look just like him?”

“Better.”, you giggle as you turn to Eddie, pausing when you notice his vacant expression as he stares at the gorgeous, gemstone Dungeons and Dragons dice in his hand. “Did I get the right kind? I don’t know much about D&D but the guy in the store said these were perfect for a… Dungeon Master? I think that’s what you said you were, right?”

“I did. Um, yeah, no, princess these are beautiful. No one’s ever got me a thoughtful gift like this before.” His arms wrap around you as he kisses your temple before pulling you down with him against the chair making you laugh. “Thank you.”

There’s a comfortable silence that follows as Eddie continues smoking with you laying on his chest between his legs, his hand occasionally rubbing your arm while Steve stares off into the distance still wearing the sunglasses.

Was this what they meant when they said they wanted to just be? You didn’t mind it, feeling like you could stay this way forever. The only problem was Steve was so far away…

“What are you thinking about, pretty girl?”

“Huh?”

“You just sighed. What’s running through your mind?”, Eddie asked with that syrupy sweet tone you dreamed about while you were away. 

“I’m just thinking about how far Steve is right now.”

“Hm. Kinda greedy today, huh? I heard Steve made you cum outside the gym, naughty girl.”

“But I haven’t seen you both in over two months. I missed you. D-Did you miss me?”

“Uh oh, Eds. She’s reverting back to that shy little girl again. It must be you, dude.”

“I’m not a little girl!”

“Hm. Sound like a little girl to me.”

You know what you’re doing and so do they, you three waiting for someone to make the next move. You decide it will be you, hoping they respond the way you want them to; NEED them to. 

“Well, fine then. If I’m such a little girl and you didn’t miss me, I guess I’ll go home.” Pushing Eddie’s arm out of the way you march back into Steve’s house and head for the front door. As you open it, a ringed hand cuts you off, and slams it shut.

“Where do you think you’re going, little girl?” He starts to slowly walk you backwards towards the living room. “You think you can talk to us like that and then just leave? I thought you were smarter than that.”

“Seems like she still needs a reminder of who’s in charge.”, Steve grins as he closes the back door and leans against it. 

“Is that what you need, little girl?”, Eddie taunts. 

“I’m NOT a little girl.”, you growl. 

He towers over you as his eyes stare you down. “Yes, you are. You’re a bratty…slutty…bad…little girl.” Between each word he gave you a small but forceful shove until you stumbled onto the couch. He sat beside you, his fingers pinching your cheeks as he turned your head to look at him. “Say it.”

When you shake your head, Eddie loosens his grip, running his thumb along your bottom lip. “Steve?” The other boy descends to the floor between your legs, unbuttoning your jeans, and tugs them off your body. 

Abruptly, a palm connects with your face eliciting a squeak from you. Your eyes meet the metalheads as he searches within them, gauging your reaction. When you don’t respond or protest, his fingers grip your cheeks again. 

“Do you remember what we talked about before you left? About us having titles and taking care of you?”

“And…in return I show you the…respect you deserve?”, you pant; completely turned on by his words and the slap he delivered you. 

“Yeah, sweetheart, that’s right.” He pauses when your breathing stutters as you feel Steve pull down your panties and toss them aside. “Is that something you want to try…with us? For example, I just hit you. Did…f-fuck… did you like it? Say yes or no and then follow it with Sir or Master.”

You moaned, feeling Steve’s breath hit your core as your legs opened wider for him. “Yes, S-sir. I liked you slapping me.” His tongue licked a stripe between your folds and you practically melted into the couch. 

“See? You’re a natural.” Eddie’s lips delicately traced your jawline down to your neck. That combined with Steve wrapping his mouth around your clit was having you seeing stars. 

“Wh-what should I—mmm—what should I call, Steve?”

“What feels right? I have a feeling when it comes to Stevie, there’s been something in the forefront of your mind. Just say it and see if he likes it.”

You lick your lips as your fingers tangle in his soft hair, pressing him further into your cunt. “Daddy…” 

They both groan as Steve’s tongue flicks faster against your nub. Eddie unbuttons his jeans and lifts his hips to push them and his boxers down his legs. His lips roughly find yours for a moment before clinging to your face again. 

“Say it. Say you’re a fucking little girl.” Your eyes start to flutter closed and he pulls his hand back to smack you again. “Harrington! Don’t let her cum until she says it.” 

“I’m…I’m a…” You struggle to find the words as you hurtle quickly towards the edge.

“If you cum before you say it, I’m going to use my belt to punish you again and I won’t be as nice as he was!”

“Fuck! I’m a little girl! Please…please!” Your thighs close around his head as you cum, lifting your hips off the couch. Steve’s fingers force your legs open as he continues licking you clean. 

When he sits up on his knees, you bring your lips to his, tasting yourself on his breath. You don’t see it but both men glance at each other as Eddie nods his approval. Steve lifts off his shirt as you reach down to unbuckle his belt and tug at his jeans. 

As he leans back to take them off, the metalhead’s fingers turn you to face him. “Now, be honest, we…we have to ask. Were you with anyone in New York?” His tone is gentle, not carrying any accusation within his words. 

“We just need to know if we need to use condoms.”, Steve follows as he runs his palms along your thighs. 

“No, I swear I wasn’t. Were…were you…with anyone?” Your eyes squeeze shut and a thankful sigh escapes your lips when they both shake their heads. 

Eddie lifts off your shirt and Steve leaned forward to passionately kiss your lips. Your eyes rolled back as he reached between you both to guide his cock into your entrance as his arms wrapped around your back. He clung to your body as thrust into you at a steady pace, his mouth and tongue attaching to your nipple making you whimper. 

“Say it again, baby girl. Mmm…call me that name again.”

“Daddy.”

“Fuck me…” His hips rolled into yours as you lifted your own off the couch to meet his pushing him deeper into you. Your head lulls to side to search for Eddie but he was still in the same place stroking his cock as he watched you. 

“Fuck, princess. I can’t wait to have you after him. I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be feeling me for weeks.”

“God damn it.”, Steve grunted as your pussy clenched at Eddie’s promise. His head fell beside yours as he pumped into you faster. “Beg me, honey. Beg Daddy to make you cum.”

Your lips pressed against the shell of his ear as your fingers pulled at his hair. “Please, Daddy. Please make me cum. Mmm… fuck…I missed you so much. You feel so good inside me.”

His mouth sloppily kissed your own, swallowing your moans as you came. “That’s it. Fuck…such a good girl…” Steve’s voice trailed off as he pushed up on his hands and slammed his hip into you as released his seed deep inside of your cunt.

As soon as the other boy pulled out, Eddie was on you, wrapping his arm around your stomach as he tugged you back against the couch until you were laying on your side with him behind you. His fingers roughly gripped your thigh, holding your leg in the air as he slid his throbbing cock into your dripping hole. 

True to his word, he thrust into aggressively, bordering the line between pleasure and pain. His blown-out eyes met yours when your hand reached out to hold the one the that was dangling off the couch behind your head. 

“Steve’s right. Mmm…such a good…beautiful girl.” His lips kissed yours before your whimper vibrated against them as his fingers circled your clit. “Look at me, Y/N. Don’t…take your eyes off me.” Eddie’s mouth opened in a silent O as he watched you struggle to keep them open. “Does that feel good, baby?”

His fingers left your bundle of nerves as they flew to your face so he could pinch your cheeks. “I asked you a fucking question. You answer me, little girl. Does my cock feel good?”

“Yes—mmm—yes, Sir. Your cock…feels so fucking good.”

“Don’t you dare take those eyes off of me, ok?” He places his hand back between your legs as you moan. Eddie’s hips start to faulter as he watches you come undone, screaming his name as tumble over the edge. As your pussy clings to him, he drops your leg as he clings to hips, grunting as he cums inside you. 

You both pant as you try to catch your breath. A hand pets at your hair and you turn your head to see Steve’s soft eyes glancing over your face. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” When you respond your voice comes out hoarse giving him pause. 

“I’m going to grab a bottle of water.”

After you watch him leave, you turn back to see Eddie’s eyes are closed. Delicately treading the waters again, you lift your arm, placing it under his head and to your pleasant surprise he scoots closer to you, pulling your body to his. 

“Alright, honey. Drink some of this.” Steve places his hand behind you as he guides the bottle of liquid to your lips. “Atta girl. Eddie, do you want some?”

The metalhead declines with a cute nu uh sound that makes you giggle as you feel him smile against your skin. 

“Come on, Munson. We still have to clean her so she can go home.” Your eyes swivel around to find Steve as he tilts his head. “Don’t you? Your parents expect you home at a certain time.”

“Yes, but I don’t want to go home yet.”

“We don’t want you to go either, baby, but we don’t want you to get in trouble.” You sigh as Eddie releases you so you can both sit up. “Do you want to use my shower or…”

“I don’t think I can make it up the stairs.”

“I can carry you—”

“No…no, Steve. I’m ok.” You lean against Eddie’s shoulder as Steve heads back towards the kitchen to find a washcloth. “Eddie? Did I do good?”

He chuckles through his nose as he reaches down to hold your hand. “Princess, you were more than good. Did you…like it?”

You nod as the other boy reappears and sits beside you, gently opening your legs as he cleans between them. Steve stops when you hiss and bite you bottom lip. 

“Sore.”

“Y/N, um, we’ve been thinking a lot and talking over the summer…” Your eyes shoot open as you look at him, terrified of what he’s about to say next. “We still don’t know how to define this but we do want you to be comfortable.”

“You said you liked being used and degraded but we’ve never talked about anything that may be a step too far.”

“Well…what would be a step too far for you?” They both laugh at your question making you pout. 

“We asked you first, honey.”

“I-I don’t know how to answer that. I just know that I didn’t like what I had before with guys. So far, I’ve enjoyed everything. I’m open to trying anything with you two. I’m yours.”

“Fuck, you’re going to make me hard again.”, Steve sighs as he starts helping you get dressed. 

“Um, I have a question. Do I call you by your titles now? All the time?”

Eddie finishes sliding on his jeans before extending his hand to help you off the couch. “Do you want that?”

“I asked you first.”, you parrot back as you grin. 

“How about yes when it’s just the three of us?”

“I’m ok with that, Sir.”

“Jesus Christ.”, he mewls before leaning down to kiss your lips. 

“Still so fascinating.” Steve kisses you as well, taking your hand as he walks you both outside to your vehicles. “Can you call us when you get home?”

“Of course, Daddy.”

He smirks as he opens your car door for you. 

“Glad your back home, honey. We missed you to.”

#############

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @local-stoner-bitch

@katethetank @danandphilequalsmemes @luna-munson83

@sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719 @chelebelletx @shayeddie

@emmalee-01 @anaibis @wroteclassicaly

@fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @siriuslysmoking

@raptorbait529

[t1ts-4-scattorcio]

nat who basically lives at your house bc of her home life

Natalie moves into your house after being abused: Natalie Scatorccio x Reader Blurb + Headcanons

TRIGGER WARNING: Abuse, homophobia, self-destructive tendencies!

_____

Footsteps padded across the wooden floor strutting up to your side of the bed. You place your book on your dresser, meeting Natalie’s face. “How was your shower? I know you were tired after practice.” “It was ok,” she hummed “It would’ve been better if you were with me though.” she winked raising her eyebrow.

“Maybe next time” you giggled looking into her eyes.

You reach to grab her hand. “Kiss please?” you pout. She laughs at your antics leaning down to meet your mouth, it was soft and slowly began to deepen, breathing her in. Your hand reaches the back of her neck pulling her closer until she was hovering over you, both landing back in the softness of your pillows.

she moves to kiss your cheeks down your neck, a soft moan leaves your lips and you feel her smile against you. She pulls back pressing one more kiss breathless.

“Thank you for letting me be here, seriously” her face hardened. 

Your gaze softened “of course babe,” tucking her blonde locks back, “I just..” she stammered, “it was really bad, like.. I think I would be dead by now if it weren’t for you.” closing her eyes, “he hated me so much and my mom didn’t do shit,” her voice tightened shaking her head willing the terrible scenarios from her mind. 

You felt nauseous thinking about how terrible things were before, seeing bruises littered across her body while changing in the locker room, her once bright blue eyes slowly dull becoming more vacant after each passing day. Watching her get high under the bleachers before running to class just to help her get through the day. 

Tears filled your eyes. “Look at me,” cupping and caressing her blochy pink cheeks, she opened her eyes, red with unshed tears. “I wouldn’t have it any other way Nat, I want you forever” you whispered. A watery laugh escaped her. 

Your arms reach around her waist pulling her onto you, a comforting silence settled in the room.

Running your hands up her spine, an idea popped into your head, and a chuckle echoed through your chest, Nat sat up straddling you with a confused expression on her face. “What do you think you’re doing y/n?” eyebrows furrowing. You smirk and brace around her tightly, she gasps in surprise cackling as you blow raspberries into her neck. 

---

You guys had to hide your relationship from her dad because he would kill you if he found out so you are only 100% besties around him and most people.

He sees you with his daughter and doesn’t know how to feel when you’re around as long as you stay out of his way he’s ok with it.

The first inklings that she had to move in with you were when she got drunk or high to the point where she's barely coherent it's scary to see, but it helps her numb her pain. It's very rare and you know her life at home is bad when she does start to spiral like that

The final straw was when Nat had snuck into your window covered in bruises, you held her in your arms that night, she eventually tired herself out from sobbing so hard. You promised yourself that she'd never ever be in that situation again. You helped hide the marks with foundation in the morning.

Your parents supported your relationship and respected that you both wanted it to be kind of a secret, she let her move into the spare room, bought her extra clothes if she needed them, and supported her as much as they supported you.

She got along so well with your parents, sometimes you'd find Nat sitting on the couch with your dad watching soccer matches with beers in their hands. She would help with chores without being told to do so, she didn't want to leech off of you. Even though they'd insist she relax at home.

She loves the privacy she has at your home. You give her the space she wants if she needs it and she feels at ease knowing her dad won't barge in her room any second.

She's so grateful for you <3 she doesn't have to walk on eggshells anymore or hide bruises with layers of clothes and makeup, she gets to show how much she loves you openly without any fear. she can finally be herself.