#emotional about dr who tonight

[cryptic-queer-cryptid]

look. not to get sappy on main but like.

call it cringe call it silly call it whatever you want but do you know what it felt like to be a depressed teenager and hear the doctor say “do you know, in 900 years of time and space, i’ve never met anyone who wasn’t important before”?

cause let me tell you, hearing that… there are whole years of my life that i barely remember because of my depression. chunks of my time on earth that i’ll probably never get back. but i do remember watching that damn special because it meant something to me, even in that fog.

[freyito]

ꜰʀᴇʏᴀ ꜝ ⨟ ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader

✩ inspo: this is fun to think about

✧ a/n: for those who don't know exactly what this means (also shoutout to freya the god of love), there are 3-5 'types' of (romantic) love. eros, romantic love, ludus, playful love, pragma, enduring love, and then there's mania which is obsessive love and agape which is universal love. The last two can sorta bend in a familiar or platonic way as well as romantic.

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, proofread

✎ wc: 3.3k

⎯ Aventurine

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Aventurine prefers to flirt, to have fun, be a little silly with his love. After all, life’s too short to not enjoy it. He wants a partner who will not only put up with his games but also join in and enjoy it, someone to tease who will tease back. He would love a deeper connection as well, but before that comes fun.

“Honey, I’m hooome~!” Aventurine calls from the apartment door, making his way to the kitchen. You weren’t cooking anything, simply sifting through the fridge for a snack. His arms wrap around your waist as the scent of his near overbearing cologne washes over you. He presses his lips to your neck and peppers it with a bunch of fleeting kisses, mumbling about his day into your skin even though you didn’t ask. When you dared to try and pull away, he only pulls you closer, pinching at your waist and grinning. “Awhhh, are you not happy to see me?”

He doesn’t give you time to reply, hauling you up and turning on his heels. You don’t get to complain, not before he practically throws you on the bed and throws himself onto you. He wastes no time finding your most ticklish spots, waiting for you to ask for mercy. “I want a proper welcome home!” He exclaims, like you hadn't given him enough attention. Not like you can do what he wants while you do your best not to laugh, squirming underneath him, trying to break free from his tickle attack.

⎯ Dr. Ratio

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. While Ratio isn’t necessarily the best at showing his affection, he is head over heels for you. Absolutely and irrevocably in love, and it only grows with each passing day. He’s quite the gentleman when you get past his cold demeanor, and is quite by-the-book.

You had met him in his classroom after his classes, to give him the lunch you had made him. He regards you with a brisk ‘mh’, You are used to this reaction, and you don’t take it to heart. He tells you he’ll be home a little later, and apologizes. Silence stretches between you two before you tell him it’s alright and start to leave the room.

“I am sorry, my love,” He grabs your wrist before you can fully turn around. He presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, eyes locked on yours as he apologizes. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Dinner tomorrow.” He’s so blunt with it, like you have no choice. But he says it with such sincerity, an emotion that is hard to get from him. His eyes linger with yours as you nod, before letting you go and returning to grading his student’s papers.

⎯ Boothill

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Boothill loves with his whole heart, but he just can’t take it seriously. He’s always teasing you, whether it be sultry words, little touches, anything. He loves making you blush.

Tonight, you two are at some bar he had dragged you to, and it’s quite lively. Which gives Boothill ample time to show you off, his arm around your shoulders or your waist whenever someone comes up to talk to you or him. He leans in ever so closer with that toothy grin, eyes half-lidded as he whispers something about how cute you look tonight. When he sees even the tiniest blush begin to bloom, he amps up his flirting tenfold.

Over the entire night, he makes little comments that turn into big flourishes of his love for you, small, teasing touches that trail from your shoulder down to your hands, interlocking your fingers. He leans in close and whispers against your ear, not necessarily just flirts, literally anything he can think of, like that you guys need to put soda on the grocery list or something. It’s the way his breath fans over your ear that causes goosebumps to riddle skin. You try and hide your blushing face, but he grabs your chin and tilts your head to meet his gaze, using his hat to shield your faces from the rest of the patrons and pressing a kiss to your lips.

⎯ Gallagher

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. While Gallagher may not sound like it, he’s romantic by heart and looks for a partner he can spend his life with. He wants to settle down, enjoy something that lasts. And he prefers a partner that does the same.

He was lounging on the couch at home, a rare sight normally. When you walked into the living room, he greeted you with a lazy smile, reaching for you like he wasn’t a 30 something year old man. He grabbed your wrist and guided you into his arms with a yawn, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. He lets out a deep, rumbling ‘mmm’ as he does so, sharing no other words.

Any time you try to break free from his hold, whether you wanna eat or need to go to the bathroom, he groans. He doesn’t say much, whispering quiet ‘love yous’ here and there, and if you really do have to get up, he practically follows you around. He’s rarely ever clingy, he’s probably one of the most independent people you know. He’s only like this when he has something on his mind, and marriage isn’t exactly a far off thought…

⎯ Sunday

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. Sunday is a textbook romantic. A dinner and a movie, roses, have you home by ten, he’s the whole package. Anything you could want, you will have. There’s always a fresh bouquet of flowers in the vase in your living room, and perhaps a new poem for/about you every month.

Whatever he gave you in reality, he gave you tenfold in the Dreamscape (especially since he can). This includes his affection, where you two are hidden away… somewhere in Dewlight Pavillion. Somewhere where Sunday promises no one will find you two. It’s not as if you two are doing something lewd, he’s nestled up against your chest, that’s about it. But, he’s been yearning for some time alone with you since forever. With how busy he has been, he hadn’t got a moment alone with you.

“I missed you.” He states. His work is secondary to this moment, as he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your palm, before nuzzling his cheek into it, all the while his eyes stay on yours. He has you flustered by the way he does it so desperately, yet so… carefully. He needed this, but he didn’t want to allow himself to lose his composure. So, the best he could do was steal you away when you were bringing him his mail, leave you breathless with a few tender kisses and gentle touches, and lead you back to your way out of the Pavillion.

⎯ Argenti

AGAPE ; UNIVERSAL LOVE. Love, devotion, and worship go hand in hand in hand for Argenti. He loves with his heart, body, mind, and soul. He loves unconditionally, every little bit of you, even the ground you walk on. Where the water wet your skin, where the dirt kissed your hands, he loves and loves and loves.

You two are dancing in your kitchen, to a soundless beat. The only rhythm coming from your barely-heard footsteps and the clank of Argenti’s armor as he shares such a moment with you. It is rare that he is home, always out on some adventure across star systems, but it is always a celebration when he is. Atleast, he makes it a celebration. Laughter fills the room as you try your best to keep up with his steps, the man elegant and flawless, as usual, while you stumble just a tick behind.

“You’ve got it, I know you do.” Argenti coos as you do your best to fall into his steps, still stumbling every so often. He dips you down, eyes searching yours with that content smile plastered on his face, before he pulls you up and chest-to-chest with him. His eyes sparkle with mirth, spinning you two around as if your kitchen was a real and proper ballroom, swaying gently. His eyes closed then, humming some tune, a song lost to time that only he remembered. He had hummed it on your longest days and on your darkness nights, the days you weeped and sobbed in his arms, and the days you had turned to him with such a bright smile. A tune that resembled something homely.

⎯Sampo Koski

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. While Sampo can be quite the romantic, he prefers to tease and play with you instead. Sure, he could dance with you all night long, bring you fresh roses everyday, but where’s the fun in that? He finds it much more fitting to flirt with you on end, brag a little about his ‘sales’, splurge a little for you every now and then.

You walk into your bedroom to find Sampo laying on his side, his head propped up with his hand, a rose in his mouth. He gives you a mock-sultry glare while you stand there, dumbfounded, halfway between disgust and laughter. Rose petals decorate the bed, and the room, and you tell yourself that you’ll have to remind him later that he’ll be cleaning it up.

For now, though, he beckons you closer, and when you do, he pulls you onto the bed quickly, spitting out the rose, and peppering your face with kisses. The room fills with laughter as you do your best to break away, but he continues this torrent of kisses, rarely taking a breath. When you complain that ‘it’s too much!’ he only ups the ante, kissing your neck, your shoulder, any exposed skin he can find. You simply just have to accept your fate, now…

⎯ Jing Yuan

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. He who has waited for an eternity yearns for an eternity spent in one’s arms. Jing Yuan has lost most of those dear to him, if not all. While he knows life will reach its end, he cannot help but wish he had someone to spend the rest of it with.

It is very rare for Jing Yuan to be free for even an hour, and yet here he was, a whole day to himself. He’s lounging in his room, basking in the sun while you lay in his arms, reading a book. You two barely share any words, yet the silence between says it all. It’s a comfortable feeling, something that feels like home, something he cherishes every second of. It’s one thing to find home within the Xianzhou, but it’s another to find home in someone’s arms.

He tilts his head as he looks down at the book your reading, contemplating if he wanted to pull your attention away from the book, or not. With a soft ‘hmph’, he makes his decision to leave you alone, choosing to nuzzle into your hair instead. You don’t react, which he doesn’t mind, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer as he closes his eyes. Perhaps an afternoon nap would do him some good…

⎯ Blade

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Not even death could keep Blade away from you. His own suicidal tendencies, his never-ending want to die, his need to die, his own voice begging for a means to an end, it all washes away when he sees your smile, as if the sun is greeting him once more after such a wretched eclipse.

He knows he has loved in the past, and yet when he recalls that feeling, Blade is only met with a burning feeling akin to rage clawing its way through his chest. He prefers to not think about it much, focusing on Elio’s script and whatever mission he’s been dispatched on. Yet, when he’s met with you laying in his bed, messing with his phone, waiting for him, a different kind of feeling weaves its way into his heart. Something warm, a kindling, of sorts.

His own voice quiets when he allows himself to feel that feeling, peace, perhaps? He’s quick to brush it off, shove it down along with any other emotion that was daring to well up, and takes a seat next to you. When you look up and beckon him closer, he doesn’t accept. But, he does lean in, and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. It’s a rare display, you can’t remember the last time he even dared to hold your hand. And before you can question him, he’s gone, out of the room, leaving his phone behind, like always.

⎯ Luocha

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. Luocha is quite the romantic when he wants to be. Since he spends most of his time wandering, he doesn’t get to see you very often. But when he returns home, he loves nothing more than to share stories of his travels and hold you in his arms. You are his anchor, what brings him back to reality when his thoughts drift to the distant churches and candle wicks that give way to angry flames…

He finds you sleeping on the couch, phone in hand, twitching every now and then, but making no real reaction to any sound. It was clear that you were waiting for Luocha to come home, and had succumbed to sleep. Luocha had texted you 4 days ago that he would be home, and you yourself had no idea how long you had been up, the past couple of days had skewed your perception of time. By now, it was around 3:00 am.

With a soft huff and an even softer gaze, Luocha scoops you up into his arms and carries you to your shared bed. He’s careful, doing his best to be as quiet as possible as he carries you, but you still wake up. You mutter a slurred ‘Luocha?’, and all he does is shush you, shaking his head and greeting you with a warm smile. You don’t get time to protest as he lays you down on the bed, giving you a soft kiss on your forehead, before turning on his heel and exiting the room. He will join you later, as much as he wants to lay beside you now, he’d like to get settled back in, first.

⎯ Dan Heng

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Dan Heng tends to retreat into himself, a lot. Ever since he revisited the Xianzhou, this has become a habit of his. He doesn’t exactly push you away, but his ‘time to think’ seems to overtake your guys’ alone time. Regardless of it all, he always comes back to you, finding home safe in your arms.

He wakes in the dead of night, his past life’s memories catching up to him once more. He doesn’t cry or scream, his breath is shallow, as he listens to the silence of the hotel you two were staying at. He stills for a moment, the scars of the past fading into a blissful nothingness, before he looks down at you. Sleeping peacefully, completely unbothered by Dan Heng’s sudden awakening.

His body relaxes as his mind quiets finally, the simple sight of you reminding him that the past is the past, and nothing more matters right now. He settles back into bed, taking a moment to admire your face, hesitantly reaching out. His fingers brush against your cheek, trailing to your hairline, tucking a strand behind your ear. You don’t even flinch, but you instinctively curl up closer to him. Dan Heng graces your sleeping form with a rare smile and a huff, before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.

⎯ Gepard

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. While Gepard may be shy about certain things, that doesn’t mean he is lacking in the romance department. His job may keep him away from you for quite a while, but he always finds his way back to you.

It had been quite a while since you and Gepard had a proper date, or even night out. Oftentimes, he’d come home late into the night, too exhausted to even eat, and all he would want to do is cuddle up next to you in bed. He loves his job, he truly does, even if it means coming home at near 2 am and waking up at 5 am. Of course he wants to spend as much time with you, but some days are harder than others, and he wants to stay as healthy as he can.

Tonight, however, he’s come home early. At 6 pm to be exact. A completely normal time to get off work… if he wasn’t the captain of the Silvermane Guards. Before you can even ask why he’s home so early, he hurriedly asks you out on a date. His face is only slightly flushed, and the minute you say yes, he lights up like the sun peeking through the clouds on a rainy day. He takes you out to one of the nicest, fanciest restaurants in Belobog, and he just cannot contain the giddy smile all throughout the night. He stares at you as if you are straight out of a movie, eyes practically shining everytime you laugh.

⎯ Caelus

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Caelus doesn’t take himself too seriously, even if there’s a stellaron housed inside of him. So why take love too seriously…? Not that he doesn’t love you, no, he adores you. But between all this trailblazing and saving planets and researching stellarons and what not, he doesn’t get much of a chance to be a little silly. And you, luckily, are his escape from that.

He barges into your room with the brightest smile known to man, his hair a little messy, and what you can only hope is soot dusting his cheeks and hands. Caelus looks so proud. Too proud. In his hands he holds what looks to be a worn out raccoon plushie, also blessed with a heavy dusting of soot. You stare at him blankly as he does not explain himself, simply waltzing over to your bed.

“Our son.” He states, so proudly, as if he had brought the thing into the world on his own. Desperately in need of some fun today, you play along, telling him ‘our son needs a bath.’ And Caelus looks at you as if you have offended his entire lineage (which, apparently, is two people now.) He jokingly chastises you for calling your son ‘dirty’, and “How could you say that to him!?” “He’s just a baby!”. Though, eventually after hours and hours of him threatening to put his sooty hands all over you, he washes the stuffed raccoon. And himself.

⎯ Welt

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Welt has seen lifetimes pass, and lifetimes more come into the universe. He’s vowed to himself to love whoever comes into his life as long as he loves, to love hard and never back down. He dreams of church bells ringing while the scent of roses fill the air, rather than the mournful gong of those ringing bells, signaling someone's end, or the bittersweet smell of lilies.

He holds you closely tonight, practically bathing in your cologne, eyes closed as he hums a tune from some far off timeline. It is a quiet, tender moment, one that is very rare between the two of you. Welt could spend all his time on the Astral Express and still never have enough time for you. He is greedy in that way, seeking any time he can with you, even if it is only for 5 minutes.

He himself doesn’t know why he’s feel especially wanting tonight, but he doesn’t busy his mind asking himself why. Time and space is infinite even as constricting as it feels, and he knows better than to keep himself occupied with such silly questions. The day he catches himself not missing you, yearning for you, is the day that he will wither into stardust.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[vxnuslogy]

𐙚 wipe your tears.

— or in which you receive some comfort when you cry.

— warnings: angst if you squint

— author's notes: self-indulgent, once again credits to @.cafekitsune for the banners.

𐙚  AVENTURINE 

aventurine is familiar with tears. he knows the stinging feeling at the corner of your eyes as you roughly wipe them away. aventurine might not want to admit it, but he's a sensitive man at heart; just the sight of you desperately trying to shy away from him rekindled that vulnerable piece of him he's tucked under his refined mask.

it's a fruitless attempt because with just one gentle touch of his fingertips on your cheek shattered all the walls you've been building up over the years.

the way his arms came to envelop you in a warm hug, his shoulder slowly dampening with your tears, it truly broke his heart to see you in such a state.

aventurine’s gambler like persona crumbles away as he whispers soft comforts in your ears while his hand rubs continuous circles on his back. shushing your cries but never once trying to dismiss the feelings that wrack your body.

aventurine never had a shoulder to cry on after he escaped his cruel fate, he understands what it feels like to bottle up every and any emotion that shakes his very being. he doesn't want you to turn out that way, so he’ll be the shoulder you can cry on.

𐙚  VERTIAS RATIO

dr. ratio isn't the brightest when it comes to tears. the way his brows knit together and the way he bites his lip in frustration when his hands ghost over your curled body.

but despite his inexperience in comforting, he wrapped his steady arms around your body, grounding you; reminding you that he's here by your side.

dr. ratio doesn't whisper soft nothing's into your ears — he isn't sure what to say to lift your spirits. he just stays quiet and hopes that it'll suffice.

and it does. despite what many would believe, veritas ratio is kind. kinder than anyone could ever imagine. 

no one will ever come to understand him the way you do, that's why in this very moment, with your most vulnerable self, veritas ratio repays your patience and commitment to him with quiet solace as you continue to cry on his chest. free from all the judgment the world has given you.

𐙚  WELT YANG

compared to anyone else, welt has seen more tears than he'd like to admit. tears from himself, the people that took him in, and the girl he'd trained under his wings until she herself could fly on her own. welt never fails to offer a comforting shoulder to those who cry, and you are no exception.

you try to curl yourself away from him, arms tightly gripping the sides of your legs as you refuse to raise your head. welt kneels in front of you as he strokes your head, voice soft and just above whisper. careful to not upset you further.

he doesn't question you on why you're crying, he's just that understanding. you often wonder what you did to deserve such a person in your life. 

he doesn't urge you to get up, instead he sits beside you quietly. keeping you in his silent company. you don't know how long the two of you stayed like that, but it wasn't long when welt felt a weight land on his shoulder and instinctively, he wrapped his arm around you. smiling softly as he asks if you're okay now.

𐙚  ARGENTI

the room was cold and you felt very, very lonely without your lover by your side. you knew of the consequences of taking a knight of beauty as a lover, he is always on the move to spread the word of his aeon. he himself has warned you about this but you shrugged your shoulders and told him you'll be fine.

however, tonight, as you let the winds caress your cheek at your front porch, you wish for nothing but argenti’s embrace to distract your mind from your insecurities.

“what's the matter, my love?” an armored hand came to wipe away the stray tears that escaped your eyes. the way your vision blurred as you threw yourself in his arms was brief, it didn't take long for argenti to wrap his arms around your waist and bury his head in your hair.

the knight alternated with whispering apologies and reassurances in your ear as you both stood on your porch. the two of you sway as if you were about to start a waltz. in the end your tears began to dry and a light giggle bubbled from your throat.

that's right. argenti might always leave to spread the word of his aeon to the vast galaxies, but he'll come back to you and your little house by the hill.

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.

[its-time-to-write]

OOOO what about Jamie having a huge crush on the reader so much so it’s effecting how he thinks like how he was in the show where he played against Man City. So Roy and Keeley follow him (like in the show) and see him spying/ watching (he’d never admit it) the reader whos working either as a waitress or a bookshop owner because he’s too nervous to go in. Or maybe even secret girlfriend where they follow him and accidentally meet the reader whos been in a secret relationship with Jamie. Lol I hope you can understand what I was trying to say 😅

Pretty sure I picked up what you put down! Here ya go!

don’t go wasting your emotion

Jamie Tartt is not acting like himself. 

The first person to notice is Roy, because it shows in his training. He seems… distracted. So he mentions it to Keeley, and asks her to keep an eye out. They have some big games coming up, and Richmond cannot afford a distracted Jamie. Keeley promises she’ll check up on him soon, but Jamie just keeps getting weirder.

He jumps and hides his phone when Dani plops down next to him on the locker room bench, passes the ball to the opposing side during practice, and keeps going offside. It isn’t long before the other coaches notice, as well as his teammates. The only one who doesn’t seem particularly worried is Sam. When Isaac asks him if he’s noticed anything off about Jamie, Sam just shrugs and says, “It’s probably nothing. I’m sure he’ll get over it soon.”

AFC Richmond does not have time to wait. They need Jamie to get his head out of the clouds and back firmly on earth. 

Shortly after Isaac’s talk with Sam, Colin catches Sam and Jamie whispering in the weight room. He catches snippets of words like, “can’t know,” “just do it,” and… “bookstore”? Surely he didn’t hear that right. Colin shrugs and heads to go see Trent. He’s an investigative journalist. He’s got to have some insight.

Colin presents this information to Trent, Ted, Beard, and Roy, none of whom have any real ideas. As they try to come up with plausible scenarios, Trent leans agains the door with his mug in quiet thought.

“You’ve been mighty quiet over there, Mr. Independent. What’re your thoughts?” Ted asks. 

“I’m not sure,” Trent replies. “We simply don’t have enough facts to come to a conclusion. What we need is someone to follow Jamie after work and see if that will provide any insights.”

“I’ll do it.”

The room turns to look at Roy. He looks uncomfortable. “Keeley and I have been meaning to talk to him anyway, and if he fucking catches any of you lot following him, he’ll never fucking trust you again. I’m your best choice.”

Beard looks at Ted, and they nod. 

Ted says, “Alright Roylock Holmes. You and Dr. Jones have fun tonight. Let us know what you find out,” and that’s that. 

—

Roy calls Keeley and tells her the situation, and it’s not hard to find a pretense for her to be with the team. It’s movie night, and she’s there more often than not. They have pretty much unanimously decided on Paddington, mostly to heal Dani’s trauma from hearing the Paddington Twitter account gave Richmond no marmalade sandwiches. That’s what they say, at least, but if they are crying within the first fifteen minutes, that’s not for anyone to say. 

Jamie sits in the back and he keeps looking at his phone. Sam pokes him and Richard catches something that sounds like, “Go- can’t expect- if you didn’t ask,” at which Jamie nods, looks around, and then slips out the door.

“Where’s he going?” Isaac asks Sam, who shrugs and says, “I would assume to use the restroom.”

Isaac turns back to the screen, but Roy and Keeley look at each other, nod, and quickly get up to follow Jamie. 

They trail him out the building and down the street, watching as he puts his hood up in an effort not to be noticed. They follow him for half a mile as Jamie makes a very purposeful trek through Richmond, unaware that he’s being followed.

Keeley and Roy turn a corner then stop, because Jamie has stopped. He’s just out of sight of some big glass windows. He checks the time, gives himself a shake, then removes his hood and pulls the door open. Keeley and Roy share a look and rush to the window.

It’s a bookstore. The sign on the door says they close an hour from now, at 9pm. Jamie is inside leaning on the checkout counter, talking and laughing with you, the cashier.

“Started that book you told me about,” he says. “You’re right. I hate it.”

“Right??” you reply. “Isn’t it awful? It makes no sense at all, and reading it makes you feel like you’re on drugs, and it’s supposed to be a classic! Thank god you only got it at the library and didn’t have to waste money on it.”

Jamie laughs. “Got any real recommendations this time? Trying to become more cultured.” 

You laugh too. “You know, you’re a lot more cultured than you think. You’ve understood most of my references, and you have an impressive vocabulary. You have a wonderful grasp on the difference between intellectual and conversational tone.”

Roy and Keeley can’t tell what you’re saying, but they’re thinking the same thing. Is Jamie blushing?

Before they can ponder this, you come out from behind the counter to lead Jamie to a shelf. You both look straight at Roy and Keeley, who duck. You turn to Jamie, humor on your face. “Friends of yours?” you quip.

“Un-fucking-fortunately,” he responds. “Oi!”

Roy and Keeley slowly pop back up and Jamie exasperatedly beckons them inside.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Roy, stoic as ever, just grunts. Keeley says, “We were worried about you! You were acting all weird and botching things at practice. We thought you were dying!”

Roy rolls his eyes. You’re doing your best to maintain a straight face. 

You know exactly who these people are. You know Keeley Jones because who doesn’t know about Keeley Jones? You know Roy Kent because he came up as a suggested search after you googled Jamie.

Jamie has been coming into your bookshop for a while now. At first it was to look for some book about forgiveness, but after you helped him pick that out he just… kept coming back. He’d lean against the counter, supported by his elbows, and stay from 8pm until closing. Usually, he was the only customer you’d get that time of night.

It wasn’t lost on you that he was a) gorgeous and b) definitely flirting with you. He wasn’t the first customer to fancy himself in love with you, but he was the first that you actually liked back. And the first who really read what you said you liked.

You just didn’t get why he hadn’t made a move yet, especially after looking him up. It didn’t make sense. You considered making the first move, but that freaked you out too much. Still, despite his inaction on that front, he kept coming back and talking to you. Sometimes he’d bring you coffee. He’d always help you close the store. You once joked that you should put him on the payroll, to which he looked at you, and deadpanned, “You couldn’t afford me.”

You’re pretty sure that’s the moment you actually fell for him. You’re a sucker for a good, stupid sense of humor.

“Why would you think I were dyin?” Jamie asks. 

Keeley shrugs and Roy answers, “Because you’ve been playing like shit.”

Jamie glares at Roy. “I have not, you dusty old twat. You take that back.”

Keeley clears her throat. “Well, actually babes, you kind of have. It’s been this whole thing. Everybody’s worried about you!”

Jamie pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Why the fuck are you all in my business? Did Sam put you up to this?”

“Why the fuck would Sam put us up to this?” Roy asks.

“Because Sam caught Jamie looking at my Instagram,” you interject.

Three sets of eyes turn to you. “What?” you shrug. “Sam looked up my handle and messaged me about it. We’re friends now.”

Jamie shakes his head in disbelief and Roy says, “So Sam fucking knew about this?”

The tips of Jamie’s ears turn red as he says, “Uh, yeah, so Sam’s been telling me I need to ask her out for like fuckin ages now. Always on me about how it’s dumb to keep checking my phone for her texts, especially because I haven’t even asked for her number or some shit.”

You swear that is the dumbest, cutest thing you’ve ever heard. 

“You want my number?” your voice comes out an octave higher than you’d like it to.

Jamie turns to you. “Uh, yeah, yeah I do. Been meanin’ to ask you, but I dunno, I keep telling myself you’re just being nice to me ‘cause of your job. Didn’t want to be fuckin weird.”

You smile. “Jamie Tartt, for someone so intelligent you really are dumb sometimes.”

He looks pleased with the compliment, then offended, then he realizes what you’re saying. His face goes through those expressions in a moment and then your hand is on the back of his head, pulling him down for a kiss.

Keeley looks on with a smile and Roy stares at the ceiling uncomfortable.

You break apart and Roy says, “Oi, Tartt!”

You and Jamie turn to look at him, arms still around each other.

“This better mean you’re done fucking up practice.”

“Yes coach,” Jamie mock-salutes.

Roy gives him a singular nod, and with that, he and Keeley head out the door. Keeley gives you a little wave and a thumbs up to Jamie.

“Now, where were we?” Jamie asks. “Oh, right…”

[lilacstarx]

Putting Down Roots

[Jealousy]

☆ Author’s note: I might make a series out of this >ᴗ< (any reqs L&DS is open!!)

✰ Warnings: low-key angst, angst to fluff, pregnant reader, tears, insecurity, second point of view, husband zayneeee

✰ synopsis: which reader has trouble understanding their emotions properly and Zayne reassures them it's okay to feel that way

✰ Word Count: 597

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

“You've been ignoring me for a few hours now, wife. Do you want to talk about it?” Zayne replied as he sat down and turned to face you from across the bed

“I’m not ignoring you; in fact, I'm talking to you right now” You answered, doing your best to pretend everything seemed well

If it takes the two of you staying up all night to work out the tension, then so be it. Zayne understands you better than he knows himself

“Your lying my precious jasmine” He moved closer to you as he spoke softly while maintaining eye contact

You did not respond, debating with yourself over whether or not to brush it off and act coy with your husband

“Is it because of the intern?” Your pupils dilated as you realized Zayne was right

You had gone to the hospital earlier in the day, carrying lunch for him even though you had been scolded for roaming around the kitchen too much unsupervised—especially with a growing baby bump

You walked along the hallway to his office, where Yvonne told you he had just done a surgery with interns. Normally, you wouldn't give a damn who he was with, even if they tried to flirt with your husband

Because you knew deep down he loved you, and he was a cold man, you had to work your way into his heart even though he claimed you had him since you two were little

However, something changed today when you observed him heading to his office with a stunning woman you had never seen before, causing you to assume that she was one of the interns

Normally you would continue talking about your day with Zayne, but they looked amazing together. She's young and attractive, and she clearly takes care of herself

“Dr zayne care for a lunch?” You could hear her voice it was quite seductive with hint of flirty

You were standing a few inches away from them when he saw you in his peripheral vision as he was going to decline the offer and open his office

His gaze softened “my wife” you waddled making your way to him “did you walk all the way from here hm?” He asked giving your forehead a kiss

He then excused you both leaving the intern standing there from shock quiet uncomfortable of the situation she witnessed

“I cant lie to you can i?” You pouted pulling zayne closer wrapping your arms around his neck

"I know jealousy is a disgusting, green-eyed monster, but I can't help feeling this way, Zayne" pulling away from the hug and looking at his eyes with tears forming into the corner of your eyes

With tears running down your cheeks, Zayne hates to see you in this state. "I'm moody everything makes me think, i eat random foods that doesnt even sound well but taste so damn good and i think so little of myself"

“I hate to see you like this my wife being the reason of your crying in pain even i think im not worth for you” he whispered holding your right hand before giving it a soft peck

“Everyone can disappear from this world but not you i love you so much that you might as well take my heart”

You whimpered, cupping his cheeks. There was a pregnant pause between you both, but this one is warm—not the one with awkwardness or tension, just full of love and understanding

His soft lips touched into yours as he whispered praises in between, “You drive me crazy every time I might just show you tonight how”

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[avatar-anna]

The Final Show

this is the first of a few oneshots i'm doing of harry's final show(s). currently working on ones for professor and latina!y/n, but those will come later. enjoy!

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader

"What are you doing over there?"

Y/n had been looking for her husband for the last fifteen minutes. Rehearsals were wrapped up a while ago, the sounds of fans waiting to enter the venue were echoing through certain hallways, and everyone had kind of scattered to their own corners before it was time to really start getting ready. Y/n had taken advantage of the downtime to put Natalia and Geneva down for a nap and feed her other children, and now that the twins were playing with their toys, and Simone and Collette were watching a movie with Jeff, she took it upon herself to look for Harry, who had quietly disappeared without anyone noticing.

She'd checked out all his usual hiding places—the kids' dressing room/playroom, craft services, his own dressing room—but he was nowhere to be found. Y/n wasn't even going to check the stage, but she'd heard noise coming from an open door and decided to follow it.

Harry was sitting by himself at a piano, playing a melody Y/n hadn't heard before. He didn't play the piano often, as he wasn't as confident in his ability to play as he was with the guitar. Even after all these years, he still got self-conscious playing in front of people, especially new material. Y/n knew he had no reason to be shy about playing any kind of instrument or showing off a new song, but she made her presence known to him before approaching anyway, giving her husband time to pause and collect himself.

"Just messing around," he said. Turning his head, Harry smiled, then opened his arms up toward her.

Y/n took the invitation and sat down in his lap, her arms immediately reaching around his neck to play with his hair. "You ready for tonight?" she asked, leaving the topic of the piano alone. For now. He'd open up to her eventually.

"Think so," Harry said. "I'm excited to come home and spend some real time with you and the kids, but..."

"I get it. It's okay to miss this," she told him, running the back of her knuckle against his cheekbone.

Their lives were so polarizing at times, and Y/n understood his mixed emotions about the end of the tour better than anybody. She knew how much Harry loved performing and traveling and creating such unique memories with his band and crew and fans, especially the fans. But he loved his family too, and while it was nice to have the kids on tour, it was a completely different thing to be a proper parent at home, and Y/n would be lying if she said she wasn't looking forward to being a semi-normal family again.

"It's gonna be an emotional night, that's for sure," Harry concluded, leaning forward to kiss Y/n's cheek. "Got lots of fun stuff planned."

"I can't wait."

And, just because they were alone and she could, Y/n leaned in, hand tightening in the back of his hair as her mouth slid over his.

The kiss was long and slow, languid and easy, so unlike the hurried pecks they gave each other when they were running around doing a million different things. It made Y/n melt against Harry's chest, had him gripping her hips a little tighter.

"I'm gonna miss it too, you know," Y/n said, mumbling the words against the scruff on his jaw.

"Are you?" Harry asked, half teasing, half serious.

Y/n took her time answering, kissing his neck and around his ear first before going back to take his bottom lip between her teeth. "Of course. You know I love watching you perform. And I love traveling and showing the kids all sorts of things. And I love your post-performance adrenaline rush."

Harry chuckled and tucked a strand of hair behind Y/n's ear. "Oh. So that's what you're going to miss."

"Among other things," she said with a playful shrug.

One thing Y/n could count on was the last of Harry's energy being spent totally on her. Whether it was the moment he stepped offstage and he dragged her into his dressing room for a quickie, or late at night once all six of their children were asleep, he always worked himself up enough during his shows that he had to dispel his adrenaline somehow, and that was usually with his wife. And after hours of being a mom and changing diapers and putting a stop to fights and making sure everyone ate their veggies and no one had strayed too far away, she loved being the center of Harry's attention. When he had a good show, she had a good night, when he had an excellent show...well, Y/n was usually left feeling like she'd been the one performing for hours.

Pulling her impossibly closer, he said, "I'll just have to find another way to satisfy you, then."

"You always do."

When they kissed again, Y/n's heart fluttered in her chest, excitement from a multitude of things putting her in a good mood. And she could tell Harry felt the same, his hands eagerly gripping what they could, just stopping short of reaching beneath her clothes.

"I think I'm gonna play something special tonight," he muttered against her lips after a few minutes passed.

Y/n nearly grinned at how well she knew her husband. She managed to contain it and pull back just enough to say, "Oh?"

Harry shrugged and tried to be casual, but his words were anything but. "I've had this melody playing in the back of my mind all day."

"You should play it then. I think everyone will love it," Y/n said, pushing a stray curl out of his eyes.

The corners of Harry's mouth curved up, dimples indenting his cheeks. "I think tonight is gonna be one for the history books."

Y/n smiled at him endearingly as she couldn't help but agree.

*.*

"I have people here tonight who have supported me in so many ways over the past thirteen years in which you can only imagine. I would not be on this stage without them and their love and support," Harry said into the mic.

For a moment, his eyes darted to the side of the stage where Y/n was holding a sleeping baby in her arms. Simone was standing next to her and cheering, with Collette on Simone's other side and waving at Harry with a big grin. The twins were on Y/n's other side, and GiGi was standing tiredly on her feet, a large set of noise-cancelling headphones on her head. One little hand was gripping Y/n's finger, though by the quick look Harry took, she was not a happy camper.

She wants you, Y/n mouthed with a shrug. Harry's heart squeezed for a moment, then quickly blew Geneva a kiss before continuing his speech.

The concert continued on, and Harry performed his heart out. Y/n watched from the side of the stage with Natalia in her arms, occasionally spinning Jules and Maeve around or dancing with Simone and Collette. It was technically past their bedtime, but Y/n decided that tonight was a special occasion. They would be home soon and back to their normal schedule anyway. What was one night of fun?

Harry kept looking over to where she and the kids were, and each time she gave him a thumbs up or blew him a kiss while the twins, Simone, and Collette waved at him excitedly and shouted, "Daddy!" GiGi was still in a bit of a mood, not quite understanding why she couldn't go to Harry when he was so close, but then again, she was turning out to be a bit of a daddy's girl, so Y/n wasn't all that surprised.

There was one point toward the end of the show where Harry became so overcome with emotions that he sank to his knees. Y/n didn't have to be a mind reader to know what was going through his head. It had been a very emotional few years, more than any of his fans would be able to understand. They'd gone through a lot—as parents and as partners—but everything they'd endured and sacrificed and experienced had led right to this moment. Y/n knew that this tour itself contained some of the happiest moments of Harry's life simply because of the environment and the energy created by his fans, but she also knew that having his family close by for a majority of it, and knowing that they were on the other side of a lot of the obstacles they'd previously been facing, played a part in that joy too.

A strong wave of emotion took over Y/n then too, making her throat go tight and her eyes well with tears. No one in the crowd except a select few would truly understand exactly what Harry meant when he talked about family and support. He truly would not be the same person he was today if it weren't for the seven people off to the side of the stage. Just a couple years ago, their lives were so different, there were so many unknowns, but right now, everything seemed to be perfect, and Y/n understood Harry more than anyone when he expressed that he wasn't quite ready to let it all go.

Caught up in her own emotions, Y/n noticed too late that Geneva had slipped her hand out of Y/n's. Before she could even utter a word, the two year old was running straight for Harry, who was still kneeling onstage with his hands covering his face.

For a moment, Y/n's heart stopped. This wasn't how this was meant to happen. It wasn't supposed to happen at all. Harry, Y/n, and Harry's team had been so careful about keeping their children's identity safe, out of the public eye. Things were slowly starting to change with Y/n going with Harry to the Grammys, and the documentary that was set to release a few months after Love on Tour ended would definitely bring their family out into the public. But those were all carefully selected events. GiGi running out onstage while one hundred thousand people, and possibly more, were watching was not part of the plan.

Y/n watched the scene unfold before her with slight terror and a boatload of anxiety swelling in her chest. She wasn't sure if Harry was too lost in his own head to notice his daughter run up to him or if she'd start crying as the screams from the crowd increased tenfold.

Thankfully, Harry's reaction was immediate. He looked surprised, like he couldn't quite believe Geneva was suddenly next to him onstage at his show. One look at Y/n's face seemed to tell him everything, though, and his smile was surprisingly relaxed for someone whose daughter the world didn't know about just ran out onstage.

*.*

"Hi, peanut. What are you doing out here, huh?" Harry asked, kissing Geneva's forehead gently, keeping his voice soft as he spoke to her. He was sort of freaking out on the inside, but he tried not to show it, seeing as Y/n was already visibly worried about the situation at hand.

"Home, Daddy," she said, her chubby baby cheeks making her pout all the more adorable.

"You ready for bed, my love?"

GiGi nodded, then promptly rested her head against his chest, making it clear she didn't want to be anywhere else at the moment. And part of Harry didn't want to hand her off to anyone else. He loved it when any of his kids came to him for comfort. It made him feel so fulfilled when all any of them wanted was a cuddle from Dad.

But at the same time, he still had a show to put on. In a split second, an idea formed in Harry's head, and all it took was one look to his band for them to catch his meaning. They started to play a melody, an early transition into the next song while he took care of Geneva.

As he stood up, Harry was careful to turn his back to the crowd so that as little of his daughter's face was shown to the crowd as possible. He trusted the camera team to focus themselves anywhere else but him right now, but that didn't account for the thousands of phones most likely pointed in his and Geneva's direction; though, as he paid a little more attention, he realized that the crowd was quiet, like they could tell that the baby in his arms was trying to sleep and didn't want to disturb her.

That thought brought a smile to Harry's face as he stepped offstage where Y/n was trying to position Natalia so she could hold GiGi too. When he reached her, Harry rested a hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek. "Relax, Mama. I've got her."

"I'm so sorry, H. She took off so fast, and I—"

"It's okay. I promise," Harry said. "She asleep yet?"

Y/n looked at where Geneva's cheek squished against her dad's chest. "Getting there."

"Five minutes, then," Harry said simply, trying to relax Y/n, who still looked terrified. Leaning in, he murmured so that only she could hear. "It's okay, Mama. We'll figure it out after. Let's just enjoy tonight, yeah? Think of the post-performance adrenaline, hm?"

That got Y/n to smile and nod slightly. He waited until the tension in her shoulders eased, then looked at the rest of his family, who also looked a little surprised that Geneva ran onstage in the middle of the show. Julian was the first to recover his shock and launched himself at Harry, which caused Maeve to jump up and down around him.

"Did you see us, Daddy? We were dancing to your song!"

"I did, JuJu. You were so good!"

"What about me, Daddy?"

"Can I go onstage too?"

"I want to play music with Pauli!"

Harry sighed, knowing they couldn't go out onstage. He could only imagine how fun—and chaotic—that would be, but it was still important that his little family stayed safe and unknown to the public.

"You know what, Maevie? I think we should let Pauli focus on the show, but maybe you can play music with him tomorrow," Y/n said gently, running a finger along Maeve's cheek.

It was clear Maeve didn't love that idea, and Harry was worried that she was going to pitch a fit or start crying, but Simone walked over to her sister. "We can play band right here, Maevie. You can be Pauli, and JuJu can be Uncle Mitch and Collette can be Auntie Sarah and play the drums."

Harry couldn't have loved his oldest daughter more than he did right then. She was always so good with her brother and sisters, even though they were a lot younger than her. He gave Y/n a look, who had passed Natalia off to Glenne, who had shown up with Jeff backstage after the whole toddler-running-onstage incident. Y/n smiled and reached for Geneva again, but not before giving him a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze to the hand.

"Go. Your fans are waiting for you."

Harry passed Geneva to Y/n, almost a little reluctantly, even though he knew he had to get back out there, that the five minutes he allowed himself were almost up. Almost like she could see the hesitancy on his face, Y/n leaned in one more time. "Go, baby. That post-performance adrenaline isn't going to make itself, and I want to celebrate tonight."

That was enough for him to finally hand over Geneva. Grinning, he kissed Y/n, then kissed the heads of each of his kids. Harry shook his head and his hands, trying to get back into his performance headspace, trying to forget about the fact that his daughter just revealed herself to the public. All of that could be dealt with after the show. Right now, there was a crowd waiting for him to give them the finale they deserved, and Harry would be damned if he didn't give it to them.

[tinyywriterr]

WHO WILL IT BE?

*+:｡.｡.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.｡.｡:+**+:｡.｡.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.｡.｡:+*

{Nanami + Toji + POC Reader}

∘°∘♡∘°∘𝓒𝓗𝓐𝓟𝓣𝓔𝓡 𝓔𝓘𝓖𝓗𝓣 ~ 𝓕𝓞𝓤𝓝𝓓 𝓨𝓞𝓤∘°∘♡∘°∘

⟿ Song to Go with the Chapter: Love Will Save the Day by Whitney Houston [You, Nanami, & Toji theme song this Chapter]

⟿ Word Count: around 6,000 +

⟿ Your two Saviors vs Your two St*klers | Nanami fluff w/ reader

⟿ Summary: Life has calmed down for you as of recently and you truly can’t complain about much. Your emotions have been all over the place but you’ve been able to manage. Nanami has made some life adjustments without your knowledge and you don’t know how to feel about it. But, of course this was just the calm before the storm and something horrible happens. Will Nanami and Toji be able to save you? Or will all be lost?

*+:｡.｡.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.｡.｡:+**+:｡.｡.·:*¨༺༻¨*:·.｡.｡:+*

𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰: contains fighting, inferred s*xual assault [doesn’t happen], pet names, stalking, reader is dr*gged, fem reader, black fem/reader, & etc. [please don’t read if easily triggered]

◈━◈━◈━◈━◈

𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓼 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: 18+ please & don’t copy and paste my story anywhere else. This chapter is about the same length as the last one but there are a lot of POV switching in this one. A lot goes down this chapter so buckle up and let me know how you like this chapter. ANYWAYS, this is my first tumblr fic so if you leave a heart, reblog, or comment it’s greatly appreciated! If there are any errors I am open to anyone correcting me in the comments, leaving feedback, or dming me. I hope you will enjoy this as much as I did when I wrote this!

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*𝓣𝓗𝓔 𝓝𝓔𝓧𝓣 𝓓𝓐𝓨 | 𝓣𝓞𝓙𝓘’𝓢 𝓟𝓞𝓥✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was 9 pm, and Toji got in the car Nanami loaned him to drive you around. Ever since Nanami told him that you both have been followed all he can think about is, you. Your safety and if Nanami has told you anything yet. ‘Fuck I can’t be getting attached to my boss’s girlfriend..’ he thinks to himself as he drives over to Nanami’s house. Soon he pulls into the complex giving the valet the keys and letting them know it was Nanami’s car he was burrowing. They take it nodding in understanding then Toji makes his way up to Nanami’s floor. He reaches the door knocking on the door and soon after you swing it open.

“Toji! You’re here! What are you doing here?” You question beckoning him in and like always you looked as beautiful as ever. He walks in beelining for the couch plopping on it and crossing his legs propping them up on the coffee table. “I’m guessing you are coming with me to the club tonight?” You tease sitting next to him and giggling softly.

“Ask your boyfriend he’ll tell you,” Toji says bluntly before turning his head to look out the window. It was hard not to stare at you but today was especially hard as you were wearing sweats that sagged a little showing your thong, and just a bra.

‘I guess she’s been relaxing all day...but fuck she's hot. Please put clothes on.’ Toji thinks biting the inside of his cheek trying not to blurt out anything stupid.

“NANAMI WHERE ARE YOU?!” You yell from the couch even making Toji jump slightly. Within seconds Nanami rounds the corner making his presence known standing in front of the both of you.

“Right here princess. Toji,” Nanami says nodding his head towards Toji greeting him. “And I’ll tell you love just promise me you won’t freak out, okay? Me and Toji will protect you okay I promise you.” Nanami tries to assure you the best he can while you nod 'yes' at him before he continues. “Last night while we were driving home someone was following us. It wasn’t till I got behind them did they stop following us. I didn’t want to tell you as our night was going so well,” Nanami expounds using his hands to speak soon he comes around the coffee table leaning down to look into your eyes; you’re silent. Toji could see your cogs moving in your head so he bet Nanami could too. Nanami rubs your thigh trying to comfort you but it doesn’t seem to work. “Talk to me, princess,” Nanami begs slightly holding your hands now.

“I-I feel like I know who it is. I bet you it’s Geto and Gojo…they hated the fact that I left so suddenly. They're probably pissed. I bet they saw us together…” you explain trailing off getting lost in thought again and everyone goes silent for a moment.

“That’s why I am here. I’ll be here to protect you when Nanami can’t you’ll be okay,” Toji says breaking the silence and standing up. “It’s 9:45, you still wanna go to work?” He asks tilting his head slightly hoping you’d said ‘no’ only because Toji doesn’t know if he can see you almost fully naked.

“I want to! I can’t let them scare me into not living my life! I’m tired of being scared!” You yell standing up and storming away to the bedroom. “WHAT COLOR KEN ORANGE OR GOLD?” You yell as both men hear things being tossed around.

“Well, that went great,” Toji says under his breath walking towards the front door.

Nanami sighs shaking his head and rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. “GOLD!” He yells back going towards the front door as well opening a drawer that’s inside the table in the foyer. The drawer is full of car keys he picks a random one and tosses it to Toji. “Thank you for doing this. Please protect her,” he says turning away from Toji and walking back to the couch. You re-emerge from the bedroom with a jacket on now that matches your grey sweats with your stripper bag on your shoulder.

You stop at the couch lean over and kiss Nanami; Toji turns away as he finds himself jealous. ‘Why am I jealous that’s not even my girl..’ he thinks soon after you walk over to Toji.

“I guess we’re leaving. I’ll let you know when we are on the way back.” Toji says opening the front door and letting you walk out. Slamming the door you and Toji make it down to the valet giving the valet the keys he turns to you. “Everything will be okay don’t be scared.” He tries to reassure you as your energy has shifted more tense and on guard. The valet returns with the new car grey and slender just like the other cars with black-out windows. Toji opens the backseat door for you then waits for you to get settled and once you are he slams the door making you jump. You both make your way to the club driving in silence once again not awkward just silent. Once there Toji helps you out slamming the door behind you both locking the car and walking up with you to the front doors.

Security eyes Toji trying to feel him out but you step in front of him. “He’s with me…he won’t be any trouble just watching me,” you say as you wink up at security. After hearing what you had to say and pondering over it they let you both in. Toji hasn’t been in a strip club in a while but seeing all these women he remembers why he used to come. “Imma change just stand over there or sit I guess.” You say nonchalantly waving your hand in a random direction as you turn and walk to the changing room. Before he can respond you disappear behind some double doors which Toji guessed was the changing room. Toji walks to a lonely corner of the club and sits down heaving out a sigh as he does. After 20 minutes pass he hears someone yelling the name ‘Star’ and you come out smiling and waving at regulars he presumed. While making your way to the stage men smack your ass and stuff money into your thong somewhat producing jealously in Toji. You wore the gold Nanami suggested looking delicious in the matching set and it barely covered the vital parts of you. Leaving nothing to the imagination Toji can’t stop looking at you damn near drooling at the view.

“EVERYONE WELCOME TO THE STAGE STARRRRR!” The DJ yells making people clap and crowd around the stage you are at. You begin dancing as a song starts to play you sway your hips to the music walking around the pole. Once satisfied enough people are watching you climb up the pole doing some insane tricks that make men throw money. You smile as they do blowing kisses to the ones throwing the most slowly lower yourself to get back on the floor. You glance up at Toji using your finger beckoning him to take a front row seat. Without question, Toji gets up and strolls up the an empty seat close to the front. You turn around and begin to clap your cheeks together simultaneously shaking your thighs. Toji’s mouth drops to the floor seeing how your ass moves was something he’ll never forget. Men yell in excitement as you bend over still shaking your ass giving them a full view something they didn’t deserve. Soon after 4 songs you walk off stage making some of the crowd sad. As you collect your money you stop to give some begging men a lap dance and seductively take their money from them only for them to give you more. As you make your rounds around the club talking to some customers or giving them lap dances per request soon you stop at Toji. With your hand on the back of the chair, you begin to straddle him taking Toji by surprise. With this action, Toji can barely breathe which you notice making you grin and begin to grind slowly making it torturous for him. Toji grips your ass barely being able to contain himself inside the club wanting to pursue his fantasies he had of you. You smirk down at him and lean in close whispering in his ear truly tipping him over the edge.

“This is my way of saying thank you,~” you purr out as you slowly get up leaving him hard and bothered. He couldn’t believe you just did that and how hot it was that you did.

‘Fuckkkkk,’ he thinks groaning as he gets up seeing you disappear again behind the double doors of the changing room. Within the next 30 minutes, you were back on stage but with Angel this time. Angel kept glancing at Toji winking every now and then waving as well wanting to gain his attention but his eyes were on you. Once you both finished your stage you and Angel trot over to Toji smiling and giggling as if you two had started drinking.

“Tojiii I knew you’d come…I just didn’t think it’d be so soon though,~” Angel coos leaning towards him swirling circles on his chest with her finger. “You look like you could use some relief. Do you want me to help you with that?~” She asks seductively while rubbing Toji’s chest and leaning up against him.

‘I mean she isn’t wrong but I don’t want her. I want y/n,’ he thinks before responding.

“I’m okay Angel thank you though.” Toji says coldly as he pushes Angel off of him making her pout before walking away back to the changing room. You follow closely behind her and giggle as you walk past Toji. Soon your shift was over and you asked Toji to drop Angel off as she was tired and too drunk to walk home by herself. After doing a lot to convince Angel she agrees and leans on your shoulder the whole ride. With you two giggling and gossiping in the back Toji has come to the realization he loved you or at least cared about you enough to think this is love. Maybe it was lust but either way, no one could hurt you while he’s around.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝒜 𝑀𝒪𝒩𝒯𝐻 𝐿𝒜𝒯𝐸𝑅 | 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝒫𝒪𝒱 ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It’s the first week of November on a Wednesday and Toji has been your bodyguard for a while now. He’s been tagging along on any errands you wanted to go on and when Nanami worked late nights. Nanami has started coming with you and watching you strip more which at first you didn’t think he'd liked it. But he confessed seeing you trick men and give others lap dances kinda turned him on. Nanami didn’t understand why and was shy when he confessed to you. Him telling you this has got you thinking; you can’t deny you were sexually attracted to Toji. You knew he has liked you for a while but it was all solidified when he came to see you strip the first time. The way Toji was gawking at you-you knew he liked you and the lap dance that night took him over the edge and sealed his fate. Toji has become softer around you, teasing you, and even cuddling you while you’d take a nap when Nanami was away. It was eating you alive not telling Nanami so today you decided to say something.

Both of you are standing on his balcony both smoking a cigarette just talking about life and what the future holds for you two.

“Remember when I told you I wanted to move out to the city?” Nanami asks in between puffs you nod your head ‘yes’. “Well I’ve been wondering…would you move with me?” He asks looking at you with his soft eyes. They’ve become soft around you at least, you can’t say the same for outside of these doors.

“Yes silly! I moved here, didn’t I? I'd follow you anywhere Ken,” You explain turning to him and smirking. Now leaning your back on the balcony railing you lean in for a kiss. Nanami accepts leaning in as well and kissing you softly full of love. He’s become less feverish in his movements now Nanami it’s full of passion rather than lust. He grabs your neck with his free hand making it impossible to move still kissing you slowly and bites your lip softly making you gasp. He chuckles before pulling away and returning to where he was going back into deep thought.

“Once this is all over of course. I haven’t been able to find either of those fuckers. They closed down their law firm and dropped off the face of the planet.” Nanami blurts out as if this is eating him alive soon after heaving an irritated sigh. He takes a long drag before putting out the cigarette and tossing it into an ashtray.

“You’ll find them I don’t know how you are doing it but you’ll catch them.” You say trying to reassure him even though even the thought of those two men makes you wanna throw up. He nods in agreement rubbing his forehead trying not to lose his mind or level headedness. “I’ve been wanting to ask you how do you feel about threesomes?” You blurt out wanting to change to subject and because this was the question that was killing you to ask. You take a puff of your cigarette afterwards as silence fills the air. You exhaling slowly as your nervous are only getting worse as the seconds pass by. This question caught Nanami completely off guard and all he can do is stare at you while blinking slowly.

“I umm, I wouldn’t mind I’ve actually been thinking about that recently…” Nanami says after clearing his throat. “Who did you have in mind princess?” He asks as if he read your mind and turns to face you more.

“I uh wanted to have one with Toji. I’ve wanted to tell you as I’ve been sexually attracted to Toji for a while..” you explain shyly bowing your head trying not to look him in the eye.

“Hmmm okay. When would you want to?” Nanami asks gripping your waist and making you look at him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝒯𝐻𝒜𝒯 𝒮𝒜𝑀𝐸 𝒟𝒜𝒴 | 𝒢𝐸𝒯𝒪 & 𝒢𝒪𝒥𝒪 ’𝒮 𝒫𝒪𝒱✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“This better fucking work.” Gojo hisses at Geto as they switch to Geto’s car staking out a random convenience store.

It wasn’t so random though; “she buys her cigarettes here. Be patient.” Geto explains coldly as he leans back into his chair “Y/n should be here around 9:30 pm before she goes to work. We should get out soon so we don’t look weird getting out of the car the same time she does.” Geto further explains to a nonchalant Gojo who’s just ready to have you in his arms. Not being able to touch you but only being able to watch you from a distance was torture. And both men have had enough.

After 5 minutes they get out as the clock in the car reads 9:25. As they loiter around picking up random things they’d never buy they both hear your voice as you yell outside to someone.

“I’ll be fine leave me alone!!” You tease playfully while giggling softly as you stroll around the store. You are clueless and in your on world just typing away on your phone. Geto and Gojo dodge out of your eye view but still close in on you as they take both sides of you. As they close in closer to you suddenly you look up looking between the two men frozen by fear.

“Don’t make a fucking sound.” Gojo hisses before grabbing you harshly by the throat rendering you speechless. Once you stop squirming he starts dragging you to the back door. As you kick and punch Gojo, Geto works as the look out opening the back door making sure the cashier wasn't alarmed. As you all make it outside in the parking lot Geto unlocks the car door still making sure no one sees you all.

“TOJII!” You yell as loud as you can before getting thrown in the car.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*𝒯𝒪𝒥𝐼 ’𝒮 𝒫𝒪𝒱✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Toji hears you scream his name making him round the corner seeing two men he could only assume to be Geto and Gojo. He ran towards the car as the two men got in zooming out of the parking lot before he even got close. Toji turns around hopping into his car and zooms off trying to follow them. ‘How could this be happening? Why pop up now?’ Toji thinks to himself as he tries to call Nanami to alert him.

“HELLO?! HELLO?!” Toji yells through the phone finally being able to get to Nanami's contact. Toji's hands starts to shake slightly as panic ensues caused by him being upset this is happening right now and being worried for your safety.

“Toji, what is it?” Nanami asks getting up from his chair and walking out of a meeting he was in.

“They took her…I’m tailing them now.” Toji says coldly as anger starts to take control.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*𝐸𝒜𝑅𝐿𝐼𝐸𝑅 𝒯𝐻𝒜𝒯 𝒮𝒜𝑀𝐸 𝒟𝒜𝒴 𝒜𝒯 𝟫:𝟥𝟢 𝒫𝑀 | 𝒯𝒪𝒥𝐼 ’𝒮 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝒪𝑅𝒴 𝐼𝒩 𝐹𝐼𝑅𝒮𝒯 𝒫𝐸𝑅𝒮𝒪𝒩✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was like any other day stop at the gas station let y/n walk in to get yourself some snacks to munch on at the club and a pack of cigarettes. You looked beautiful like always and was finally relaxing a little more as things have been peaceful. We hadn’t run into Geto or Gojo and they haven’t been noticeably following you or Nanami in a while. I pulled into the parking lot parking the car and turning to the backseat.

“Do you want me to come out with you?” I asked smirking softly at you making you smile a little. You swung the door open running towards the convenience store before even giving me an answer.

I got out of the car leaning against the car door you yelled at me; “I’ll be fine leave me alone!” Then you disappeared into the store I waited for you still leaning against the door. Then a blood curdling scream of my name escaped you making me turn and run towards the source. I see them stuffing you into the car with evil grins and slamming the door on you. You began to bang on the car window screaming my name. For the first time in a while, I felt helpless frozen in shock. Geto and Gojo got into the car and sped off I jumped in my car trying to follow them. As I tailed them I took note of the car they were driving white with blacked-out windows. I memorized the license plate number in the frantic and manic mindset I was in. I felt anger cover my whole body as I imagined what that’d do to you; I can’t let that happen.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*𝒪𝒩 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝒫𝐻𝒪𝒩𝐸 | 𝒩𝒜𝒩𝒜𝑀𝐼 ’𝒮 𝒫𝒪𝒱 𝐼𝒩 𝐹𝐼𝑅𝒮𝒯 𝒫𝐸𝑅𝒮𝒪𝒩✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

I dropped the phone as Toji said the words I feared the most. You have been kidnapped, taken from him. ‘I couldn’t protect you..’ I think balling my hands into fists. I continue to hear Toji driving frantically trying to catch you when I realize we share our location. I pull my phone out feverishly trying to keep my cool and open the app; your icon is moving. Going towards Shibuya but more of the family living area on the outskirts and not the city.

I clench my phone putting it back to my ear. “Toji they are taking her to a house in Inzai district please continue to follow them I’m going to be on the way as well.” I say bluntly hanging up the phone and running out of my office building coincidentally it began to rain. Like the universe knew how I felt; I rushed to open my car speeding off and leaving tire marks as I raced out of the parking deck. I watched your icon like a hawk as I drove I know it’s not safe but for you, I’d do anything. Your icon stops moving and I zoom in it’s at a house I send Toji the address and he calls me.

“I’m here already boss. You want me to go in?” Toji questions I hesitate wanting to be the one to save you but that’s selfish.

“Yes please, save y/n please," I plead as I’m losing my grip on reality and my own self.

‘How could I let this happen? She was just relaxing feeling safe and here they are taking you away.’ I think to myself making me grip the steering wheel tightly and pressing on the gas more to get to you sooner.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝒜𝒯 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝐻𝒪𝒰𝒮𝐸 𝒢𝐸𝒯𝒪 & 𝒢𝒪𝒥𝒪 𝒯𝒪𝒪𝒦 𝒴𝒪𝒰 𝒯𝒪 | 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝒫𝒪𝒱✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Tears roll down your face as the two men circle you like lions; making you their prey. You are tied up around your wrist, ankles, and around your neck mocking a leash. You're stripped completely naked on the floor making you shiver mainly because they took you to an abandoned house. Gojo yanks on the leash making you gasp for air and you try to turn your body away from them to fight their pestering eyes.

“Don’t be shy now darling, you look so beautiful,” Geto says devilishly before closing the space between the two of you and then bending down to be eye level with you. You just stare up at him with tears rolling down your face as you both lock eyes. But suddenly he comes in close and licks your cheek to taste your tears that are full of fear. You pull away as far as you could as he does it making him grab your face aggressively. “Stop that you’ll only make it worse for yourself. What did we say the last time we saw each other?” He asks making you look at him again; his eyes are full of disgust yet still full of devious lust. You stayed quiet just looking at him which he didn’t like so he let go of your face just to smack you making your head snap in the opposite direction. More tears begin to fall and they both begin to laugh manically continuously berating you.

“We said whores like you need to be punished. and YOU. ARE. NOTHING. Just our cum dumpster.” Gojo hisses pulling you towards him now with the leash and when you are close enough to him practically under him, he spits on you. Then Geto walks over and grips your face forcing your mouth open just so he can spit in it. His eyes twinkle while watching you have to swallow his spit as he tilts your head back. When Geto lets go Gojo smacks you making you yelp wanting to hold your face as both cheeks burn now. Geto begins to choke you smiling like the devil and he starts to squeezes tighter and tighter. More tears run down your face as snot begins to come out your nose since your trying to fight for air. But within minutes you feel your eyes begin to roll to the back of your head and your eyelids start to feel heavy. Before you pass out fully Geto lets go of you making you cough and gasp for air as spit falls out your mouth. You bend over and just stay frozen for a moment as thoughts begin to flood your mind.

‘Why me? What did I do to deserve this? I said ‘no’ once and now look,’ you ponder as your body begins to ache from everything they have done to you so far.

“Hmm, I think we’ll give you something we’ve wanted for a long time,” Gojo says sucking you back into reality. He then pulls you up by your hair with one hand making you scream in pain. “Shut up, be a good slut. This will only take a second,” Gojo barks at you making you go silent and all you can do is whimper in pain. Gojo then uses his other hand to force your mouth open and you try biting his fingers but he just smacks you in response. Geto comes over pulling out four pills from his pocket; giving you an aphrodisiac pill and three xanax. After making sure you swallowed them Gojo drops you on the ground making you cry out in pain. “You’re worthless,” was the last thing you heard before they started to beat you.

‘I guess this was the punishment they spoke of,’ you think to yourself as you yelp and groan. You quietly try to beg for help but that only makes the two men hurt you more. They continued beating you until you became unconscious either from the beating and or the pills. Geto and Gojo just stood over your bruised body looking at what they have done. They begin to think about all the cruel things they wanted to do to you but soon after someone knocks down the door.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝒯𝒪𝒥𝐼 ’𝒮 𝒫𝒪𝒱✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Toji sees you passed out on the floor igniting a rage within him but he snaps his gaze back at the two men. They had begun to take their clothes off to do the unthinkable and most disgusting act a man could do.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” He yells yells with his voice for of anger as he runs towards the two men balling up his fists. Toji’s right fist makes contact first with Geto’s ribs making him stagger backwards. Gojo tries to sneak Toji but he blocks fast enough before punching Gojo square in the face. Gojo stumbles backward grabbing his nose as it starts to bleed dripping down his face and chest.

“Do you know who I am? I’ll ruin you..” Gojo hisses lurching forward and pulling his right fist as far back as he could. Toji sidesteps him then knees him in the stomach and making Gojo fall.

“Don’t care,” Toji mumbles as Gojo grabs at his stomach in pain. Geto tries to sneak Toji by coming from behind to choke him with some spare rope. But Toji rips it off his neck with ease and turns around just as quickly backhanding Geto.

Geto staggers then takes a knee panting softly before looking up. “Why do you want to protect this slut? THATS ALL SHE IS!” Geto yells standing up now Gojo has stood up as well. Toji cracks his neck before elbowing Gojo in the nose behind him making Gojo grunt with anger. Geto pulls out a knife trying to throw stabs and jabs but Toji dodges all of them. Toji getting tired of dodging grabs Geto’s wrist punching him in the face this time taking the knife from him.

“You both are so weak,” Toji teases tossing the knife. “Give me an actual challenge,” Toji growls before kicking Geto in the stomach and then his legs making Geto fall for real this time not getting up after. Toji turns around to Gojo seeing a manic look in his eyes; Gojo tries to throw some jabs and right hooks but it isn’t good enough. Toji dodges every hit again and begins to grin as he will enjoy beating them both to a bloody pulp. Toji freezes mid fight confusing Gojo making him stop too creating a perfect window for Toji to punch him harder than he has all night right in the liver. Gojo stumbles backwards gasping for air and pointing at Toji as he tries to speak.

“I’ll see you again…” Gojo murmurs finally finding the breathe to speak before falling to his knees. Toji walks up on him grabbing Gojo by his hair before kneeing him right in the face knocking the man unconscious. As an extra fuck you, he stomps Geto out making sure he doesn’t get up. After fucking them up a little more Toji knew they weren’t waking up any time soon. He runs over to your side examining the situation and acting fast he grabs the knife he tossed earlier untying you completely. And sadly you look awful, bruised all over, knots forming all over you, and drugged out of your mind. Toji scoops you up taking you to his car just as Nanami is pulling up

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝒫𝒰𝐿𝐿𝐼𝒩𝒢 𝒰𝒫 𝐿𝒜𝒯𝐸 | 𝒩𝒜𝒩𝒜𝑀𝐼 ’𝒮 𝒫𝒪𝒱✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Nanami barely parks the car quick enough before getting out as he sees your battered and bruised body. He runs to you and Toji but he wasn’t able to speak as he hated seeing you like this and wished he never had to.

“You should take her to the hospital who knows what they did to her…” Toji suggests gripping you tightly before handing you over to Nanami.

“Get out of here I called the police while I was on the way here. I’ll explain everything to them on the way to the hospital. Thank you again Toji,” Nanami explains bluntly before turning to walk to the car and placing you in gently trying not to hurt you any more than you already were. Toji says nothing just turns to his car, gets in, and driving off.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝒯𝐻𝑅𝐸𝐸 𝑀𝒪𝒩𝒯𝐻𝒮 𝐻𝒜𝒱𝐸 𝒫𝒜𝒮𝒯 | 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝒫𝒪𝒱 ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Your eyes flutter open slowly and the bright fluorescent lights blind you slightly. After blinking a lot your eyes start to adjust to everything. You look around your room seeing cards, balloons and flowers everywhere. You turn your head to the sitting area and see a figure sitting in a chair bowing their head; leg shaking.

“Kento?” You croak out tears starting to roll down your cheeks; he stands up immediately running to your side.

“You’re awake,” he whispers kissing your hand trying to hold back his own tears.

“What happened? I only remember,” you inquire but memories only bits and pieces start to flood your mind. “Geto and Gojo…beating me then being forced to take some pills..” You mumble out in a raspy voice before trailing off at the end as more tears fall down your face. As everything begins to hit you all at once you start to sob.

“It’s okay-it’s okay. They're gone, they can’t hurt you anymore. I know I wasn’t able to protect you but I will now.” Nanami mumbles in a reassuring tone continuing to kiss your hand. “A lot has changed while you were in a coma. They had to put you in a medically induced coma mainly because of you being unconscious for so long and some brain damage.” He explains looking you in your eyes they were full of sadness and fear something he hated to see.

“Oh okay, when will I be able to go home? Oh my god, my brothers!” You rattle off before yelling and coming to the realization. You try to sit up to hug Nanami but a pounding headache stops you. Laying back down you stare into Nanami's eyes that are so sweet, caring, and full of love.

“The doctor will tell you once they come and see you and it’s mid February. Your brothers are fine; I contacted them once you were in the hospital and took over sending them monthly payments. I’ve been sending them a good amount so Daran was able to move out with Angelo to a great apartment far away from that small town.” He expounds rubbing your head now trying to soothe your headache.

“Thank you Nanami, it means a lot to me that you did that. I guess you should alert the nurse that I am awake.” You say as you smile softly caressing his cheek and Nanami can’t help but lean into it also smiling.

“I was scared I was going to lose you y/n…” Nanami croaks out as his voice cracks not a lot but enough to notice.

“I am a fighter I would’ve found my way to you. Thank you for saving me and protecting me..” you reassure in a serious tone.

“I didn’t save you love; Toji is the one you should be saying this to. I was in a meeting when he called me telling me what happened. Toji followed them and beat them almost half to death for you. I only took you to the hospital,” Nanami painfully confesses bowing his head as he is slightly ashamed.

“Kento. You still played a part in saving me I don’t care about the trivial details. You brought me here, right? You helped my brothers didn’t you?” You question sternly with some assertiveness while pointing a finger in his face.

“Yes princess, I did.” Nanami says nodding ‘yes’ softly trying to hold back a laugh.

“Then you saved me doesn’t matter how big of a role you played. Now call the nurse I need some painkiller,” you command smirking as you do.

“Yes ma’am,” he says in a teasing tone standing up slowly before pressing the nurse call button. Within minutes two nurses and a doctor come in starting to poke and prod you making you scowl.

‘Maybe I should’ve waited to call the nurses,’ you think to yourself wincing as they touch some sore parts of your body.

“You’ve healed nicely Mx. l/n but you’ll need to see your primary care physician a lot more frequently. Only to make sure no brain damage starts to affect your daily life. You still need to rest some more, I’ll put that order in for your pain medicine, and we’ll keep you under observation for a week.” The doctor explains bowing before walking out followed by his nurses.

“You hear that one weekkkk!” You yell softly while smiling wide as you can’t wait to go home.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 𝑀𝐼𝒩𝒪𝑅 𝒯𝐼𝑀𝐸𝒮𝒦𝐼𝒫 𝒜 𝒲𝐸𝐸𝒦 𝐻𝒜𝒮 𝒫𝒜𝒮𝒮 | 𝒴𝒪𝒰𝑅 𝒫𝒪𝒱✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’ve finally been released from the hospital and Nanami is wheeling you around in a wheel chair refusing to let you walk to the car. Once at the car, he opens the passenger door placing you in the car gently as you requested not to be put in the backseat. Nanami gets in, turns the car on, and pulls out of the hospital parking lot. Taking a weird way home you turn to him and ask; “where are we going, Ken?”

“I wanted to tell you while you but you were in a coma. I um, sold the penthouse, retired from the business, and bought us a house in the country. It’s a nice big house with 6 rooms, 5 bathrooms, with a big backyard, and a lot of land. I can always go back to work I still have control over the company just stepping down.” Nanami expounds trying to keep his eyes on the road but catches a glimpse of your surprised face. He chuckles softly as your mouth is on the floor and he wasn't joking when he said a lot has really changed while you were out like a light.

“Why Kento?” Is all you can muster to ask in the moment while looking out the window and taking in the scenery around you.

“Apart from me feeling like you’d wake up I wanted to take you away from all that. I’d been thinking about this way before you got hurt I just felt like it was the right time. I hated my job, was tired of the city, and just wanted us to have a better life. I know we haven’t dated for long but…I love you y/n. I wanna spoil you and show you how nice life can be,” he states smiling at you softly before grabbing your hand and kissing it.

“I love you too Kento and love doesn’t have a time or a plan it just happens. I’m so happy that you took life into your own hands. I know you have a plan to keep you busy,” you tease gripping his hand harder giggling a little.

“Actually I do!" Nanami says in a sassy tone before adding; "I want to either open a bakery or a suit store. I love both and think either would be a great choice for the area we'll be in. Speaking of we are here princess.” He says soon you can feel the gravel driveway under the car tires. Nanami parks the car and helps you out carrying you bridal style into the house. It has huge double doors with a nice front porch facing the street and the front yard is a great size full of trees. Once inside Nanami puts you in a wheelchair he already had in the house waiting for you. “Let me give you a tour my love,” he suggests not really caring for the answer he’s too excited to wait. As he rolls you through the foyer you realize Nanami moved everything in already art adorning the walls and mainly your furniture throughout the house. “I loved your style so I went off that but of course I enlisted help from your friend Angel,” he blurts out seeing the shock on your face. Now in the living room, it has your favorite couch from your house a bright orange, Nanami’s huge TV, both record players, a whiskey cart, his sleek coffee table, and a huge modern fireplace. The house's bones were a modern finish and he incorporated your fun and creative style into it; if there was a phrase for this style it’d be whimsical modern. He takes you into the huge kitchen that has a cream-white finish with a pop of color from your decor. “I made one of the rooms a joint office for us but I really want to show you the bedroom though you'll have time to look around,” he rolls you to the stairs scooping you up and walking up 2 flights. “You think you could walk a little?” Nanami asks as he reaches the bedroom door and you nod ‘yes’ still rendered speechless. He opens the door waving his arm to go inside you turn the light on and you gasp. You’d told him on one of your dates you wanted a circle bed with a canopy and there it was in the center of the room.

You turn and hug him grinning hard now before speaking. “You remembered…” you say softly before slowly walking around the room. The room is super spacious the biggest room you’ve ever had in your life full of your favorite things. There’s a sound system in the corner, adorable bedside tables, a small couch by the huge window, a small table next to said couch, and a huge bookshelf. The vibe in this room is much darker as you loved sleeping in complete darkness. Turning around you start to cry not even bothering to look at the bathroom. “Thank you, Ken this is everything I could ask for add more..” you hug him again covering his whole face with kisses.

“I’m glad I can do that for you y/n. You mean the world to me..” he whispers into your ear making you melt like putty.

‘I could get us to this,’ you think to yourself before Nanami scoops you up again.

'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
Once again I hope you enjoyed this one and can’t wait to upload the next chapter! Also let me know how you guys like the fighting in this one once again it’s been awhile since I wrote a fight sequence. Don’t forget to comment, leave feedback, leave a note, or anything truly. It’s all appreciated! \( ˘͈ᵕ˘͈ )/

© ™TINYPROPHETT

[Please don't copy or plagiarize my work thank you. I don't own any rights to JJK and all photos are from pintrest or here I'll try to tag people if I can]

⟿ Link for my AO3 lovers: {also it’s 24 chapters posted on here}

⟿ Credit for the inspiration for the Chapter:

[uraharasandals]

uhhh so I was giggling about aventurine with a friend and it kinda spiralled out of control so have this teehee

I tried to make them hate fuck the whole time but I got stuck so this ended up being slightly...healthy? (I know, shocking for me) But I'm excited for Ratio to drop and honestly Aventurine too

Main source of inspiration: Aventurine looks like a power bottom

pairing :: dr. ratio x aventurine word count :: 1.4k warnings :: r18/nsfw content (minors don't interact pls), hate-fucking, unprotected sex, mild ooc ratio, written before 1.6 update

CAT GOT YOUR TONGUE? (NO, BUT YOU DID)

“Not so proud of ourselves now, are we?” There it is again, that absolute shit-eating grin that Ratio itches to slap off his face, that remains plastered all over his fine features despite being pinned down like a butterfly to a board, and dissected as much under his hands. And yet. “Come on, don't be shy, say something. Veritas.”

A delicious shiver runs down his spine as Aventurine speaks again, and Ratio swallows. It's the way his name rolls off the blonde's tongue, almost like honey - except it's dangerous, obviously a trap. Velvet-laced knives, mayhaps. 

Beauty with a jagged edge, like the stone he takes the name of for his pseudonym.

Ratio swallows again, then hisses as Aventurine tightens around his cock, shoved deep into him. “Don't do that.” He tries to sound authoritative, but it comes off weak, trembling. Aventurine takes it as a cue to clench again, making him let out a small gasp in spite of himself. 

“Do what?” The blonde tilts his head at him, almost innocently, as if he wasn't underneath him and flushed with arousal. “You need to be clear, Veritas.”

There it is. That wretched enunciation of his name, dragging through his lips. And was he hallucinating, or did that bastard moan it? 

Saliva runs dry in his mouth, leaving him nothing to swallow the third time.

Aventurine notices his silence, and chuckles. He slides his fingers into the dark purple locks curling against the base of his skull and pulls, slotting their mouths together. Ratio lets him have the kiss, their lips moulding together naturally and more like two men in love and less at each other’s throats (though one could argue that is attractive in its own right), and when Aventurine pulls away, there's almost a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, clarity in the hazy lavender. “I can ride you, if you’d like.” 

And there it is, his way of checking in – despite the nature of the offer, there was no saccharine seductiveness in the statement, only a matter-of-fact tone laying an invitation on the table. In a way, it’s strangely reassuring, how he doesn’t treat him as something fragile or like glass, how he maintains the snake-like hold on him even though they’re on bed, skin against skin, laid bare open. It makes the real Aventurine less attainable, which is good. That means he is still allowed the leisure of concealing his true emotions behind a mask, because despite the vulnerability, that is one thing he refuses to do, the one agreement he made to himself. 

It keeps things casual, distanced. With an air of fantasy surrounding it, almost as if he was playing make-believe. 

“Tempting.” Ratio regains his footing on the edge, smirking down at him. “But I think I’d like to try something else today.” He rolls his hips forwards experimentally, and relishes on the widening of Aventurine’s eyes as he gasps, a delicious shiver running through his entire body. “Especially since a certain someone decided to be so generous today.” 

Aventurine shrugs, nonchalance laced in the action, but his flushed features – likely from arousal – makes it hard to believe, especially with the sultry glance still evident behind the long golden lashes. “Suit yourself. Don’t cry about it afterwards, though.”

Ratio scoffs, hooking a hand around his pale thigh, before arranging his leg so it props on his shoulder, stretching him open further. “Don’t worry. The only person who’s going to cry tonight is you.”

“Oh, going to scold me like one of your students, are you, Doctor?”

Before Aventurine can get another word in, he responds by leaning in, pressing his lips against the other man’s mouth so he could shut up, for Aeon’s sake. The yapping coming out of him quickly turns into a series of delightful moans, the blonde gasping and whimpering as Veritas fucks him, slamming his hips against the other’s and hitting that spot inside of Aventurine that makes him make those pretty noises again, over and over until his cock leaks precum. He smirks in appreciation as the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the room, more slick forming between them as his cock leaks more precum, almost as if he wants to fill Aventurine up.

“Why, does that turn you on?” He asks, almost in disbelief, as he continues to pound into Aventurine’s hole, but the other man was already gone in the throes of his own pleasure, and Ratio finds himself mesmerised by the display in front of him as he pants, blonde hair sprawled across the pillow like a halo. He looks like an angel this way – he thinks to himself – except that is true only in the literal sense of the word, but the deception is easier to fall for when he's like this, spread open on sheets and without his flamboyance, just himself. And right now, this view is only for Ratio's eyes, which only makes him more aroused. “Talk to me, Aventurine,” Ratio taunts, relishing in how easily the man underneath him is being taken apart. “Do you like this?” 

The blonde nods, gasping as he hits his prostate again. “Feels good…more, please. More, Veritas – “

“Well, since you’re asking so nicely – “ With a small grunt, he slams back in again, stretching his hole further. Aventurine turns his neck as he moans, trying to squirm away from the overwhelming onslaught of pleasure, but a firm grip on his wrist against the headboard stops him from escaping, and he whines. Ratio could feel his cock throbbing harder, and impulsively — against his own logical instincts, frankly – he surges forward, biting roughly on the pristinely pale expanse of skin on Aventurine’s neck. 

The blonde moans loudly again as his teeth grazes on the skin, catching and surely leaving marks. For a moment Ratio loses control of himself, overcome with the thought of making Aventurine his own, and nothing but his own, attacking his neck with renewed fervour. The blonde squeezes his eyes shut, and with a sense of satisfaction, Ratio notices moisture gathering on his eyelids, and he decides to lean up to kiss them away. Aventurine hisses at the contact, but does not push him away, merely guiding his hand to his own cock, and Ratio complies. He silently relishes in the pretty noises that Aventurine makes in response to the additional stimulation. “I - I’m close, Veritas, I’m close - ”

“Good.” Ratio gasps. “Cum for me.” He watches as the blonde shudders, mewling as he comes undone, white spurting all over his fingers as the scholar continues to stroke, his hole fluttering around his cock, milking him. A hoarse groan escapes his lips as Ratio’s hips stutter, fucking him through his orgasm. He is briefly aware of how slender and small Aventurine is underneath him, shaking from the aftershocks and whimpering from the overstimulation as he continues to thrust into the heat. “Hold on – ”

Ratio ignores the desperate sounds coming out of Aventurine as he chases his own high, slamming his cock into his hole again and again until he groans, the pleasure causing stars to dance in the back of his eyelids as he buries his face into Aventurine’s neck, moaning against the sweat-drenched skin. He’s briefly aware of his cum spilling out around his cock, soiling the sheets underneath, and the thought fuck, we have to change them dances across his mind before Aventurine’s scent demands his focus again, and then it’s Aventurine, Aventurine, Aventurine all over again.

For a moment, the room is silent as they slowly come down from their highs, though broken as Aventurine pulls him down for another kiss, this time sloppy and wet. Ratio returns it hungrily, letting the blonde nip and lick at his lips greedily, almost to devour him. “You taste good,” Aventurine manages to say, finally catching his breath.

Ratio scoffs, but it’s all in good nature. “First time?” 

Immediately, the blissed expression on the blonde’s face drops, and he almost laughs. Aventurine is like a cat at times, Ratio thinks to himself, the way he pulls away and gets affectionate completely at random intervals, and right now it’s one of those times as he bites on the inside of his wrist as some sort of comeback, successfully making him wince out of surprise. Aventurine grins, looking like a cat who just finished a bowlful of cream.

“Cat got your tongue?” Ratio prompts, enjoying teasing Aventurine when he’s fucked out like this, the only time his flowery language doesn’t make an appearance.

“No, but you did,” is the only warning as the blonde pulls him down for another kiss again, this time slightly more gentle as he grins against his lips.

[floralcyanide]

ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱᴏʀ!ᴊᴏʜɴ “ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ” ᴇɢᴀɴ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ ɪɪ

Your job at the museum teaches you more than you think when it’s opening night for a WWII exhibit.

pairing: professor!john "bucky" egan / fem!reader

warnings: none!

author’s note: I'm thinking the next part to this will be an actual fanfic but we'll see (:

masterlist | divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ.

✦ You work hard on your first paper based on your thesis. Dr. Egan gives you pointers here and there. Sometimes, you go to his office just to chat when you aren’t doing research. 

✦ He doesn’t go into detail about his personal life, but you do know he’s divorced and has a kid who’s a teenager. He talks about his son a lot, and it brings a smile to your face. Dr. Egan says he hopes his son is just as smart as you when he gets to college. 

✦ He mentions a trip to DC for the Master’s program. You jump at the idea, much to Dr. Evan’s delight. You ask if he’s going, and he says no. You wonder why but don’t bother to ask. There’s a lot that Dr. Egan doesn’t seem like he wishes to tell you. And you wonder if it’s simply because he’s your superior or if it’s something else. Either way, you’re curious. But you don’t want to cross a line. 

✦ You talk a lot about your grandfather to Professor Egan; he always listens patiently and even gives you a moment to gather yourself when you become emotional. You also talk about your father a good bit. Dr. Egan asks what he does, and you explain that he used to be a pilot in the last war. Dr. Egan makes a peculiar face but brushes it off quickly.

✦ He asks what squadron your father was in. “My father was in the Hundredth. He talks about his experience a lot.” Dr. Egan suddenly checks his watch and excuses himself, saying he had to be somewhere and that you were welcome to return to his office tomorrow.

✦ You leave confused about what caused the sudden change in Professor Egan's demeanor but shake it off. You do come again the following day and bring coffee, apologizing for anything you may have bothered him with.

✦ “It wasn’t anything you said, don’t worry,” Dr. Egan says, “I just lost track of time. I tend to do that with you a lot.” You try not to get flustered at his comment when he gives you a soft smile with it. 

✦ Whenever you aren’t researching or hanging with Dr. Egan, you work at the local World War II museum, creating exhibits and giving guests tours. It’s the opening of the new exhibit of the airmen of the war tonight, and you’re dressed your best. You’re happy to explain to guests the timeline of the war and show them photographs and artifacts. 

✦ A familiar figure catches your eye. You notice a tall, graying man with his hands shoved in his pockets, eyeing photos of the squadron your father was in that he donated to the exhibit. You approach the man, “Have any questions?” he turns around, and sure enough, it’s Dr. Egan.

✦ “Professor Egan! I didn’t expect you to be here!” you smile as he looks at you knowingly, with a bit of defeat. “I knew you’d be here, actually,” he says. You give him a confused look.

✦ Dr. Egan points at the group photo of the remaining airmen from the 100th who live to V Day to a specific man with a dashing grin. “See this guy here? Does he look familiar to you?” You squint, leaning close to the photograph you’ve seen many times. Then you realize that dashing smile only belongs to one person.

✦ You carefully look over to Dr. Egan, unsure of what to say. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you ask. “Didn’t want people, especially students, to see me differently.” “How would they see you in any way other than a hero?” you ask, putting a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not really the ideal profession,” Dr. Egan swallows, unable to look you in the eye. You sigh, “It was war, Professor. You did what needed to be done, unfortunately. And it’s over now.”

✦ “I just felt you needed to know about my past,” Dr. Egan admits, “Especially since we’ve grown so close professionally and your father was in the same squadron as me. It was only time before you found out.”

✦ “I’d love to know everything you’re willing to tell me. Especially since it’ll help with my research. Not to mention there’s probably stuff my father never mentioned,” you chuckle. There’s a mischievous glint in Dr. Egan’s eye at that statement. “Lunch tomorrow?”

[lynnlovesspidahman]

this is me trying.

peter parker x reader

part 2. || part 1.

masterlist.

warnings : angst, mentions of violence, swearing, lots of self-doubt (peter im sorry)

word count : 2.7k

summary : There’s always two sides to a story. An apology is put into place.

Peter felt like he was living three different lives at once.

Each taking so, so much energy every single day.

His job, an assistant for Dr. Octavius at Octavius Industries. He felt guilty for arriving late every day, and still somehow having a job.

Peter was smarter than Doc, they both knew that. So that meant he would be called to office very, very often.

Usually because of some mistake Doc had made while working on the new prototypes of prosthetic limbs.

But the pressure it brought could get to be too much sometimes. One small mistake could cost millions of lives — or dollars — if not noticed early enough.

But he knew it would help the world someday, in so many ways. The exhaustion was totally worth it.

Spider-Man. Peter had loved and genuinely enjoyed playing his alter-ego.

Constantly, day and night, he was out. Out saving people everywhere. Sure, his work wasn’t appreciated by everyone but it was 100% worth it — to him.

But Spider-Man came with considerable costs. His everlasting lack of sleep. Peter can’t remember the last time he really got his 8 hours. The bags under his eyes made that apparent enough.

The physicality of the job, how many times had he stopped a car with his bare hands? He lost count years ago.

The bruises, cuts, broken limbs, brought immense pain, even to Spider-Man. Sure, he can heal faster — a nights rest, a heating pad, and your some soup is more than enough — But that doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

And the emotional weight it brought.

The crimes haven’t slowed, if anything they’ve gotten much more prominent all around the city.

The overwhelming amount of times he has to swing across New York to fight off large groups of thugs has become too much.

And honestly, he’s so sick of it.

And so, Peter stopped pulling his punches as much.

The guilt didn’t come until later.

He climbed through your apartment’s window after a long, long night of patrol.

You were sitting there — unaware of his presence— watching TV, all cuddled up on the corner of the couch with your mini Spidey plush.

“Hey, beautiful.” He called out to you.

“Holy shit-” You jumped and turned around to look at him. “You can’t just pop out of nowhere like that, you scared the hell out of me.”

You got up and walked towards him, “Was patrol okay?”

“Uh, yeah it was alright, kicked my ass tonight though. I’m worn out,” He stretched his arms above his head.

“Hm. Why?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Uhm, I mean I fought bad guys all night?” He scoffed, a stupid question, he thought.

“Or was it because you practically killed someone tonight?” You bluntly said.

You had taken a step away from him, like he was a danger to you too.

“They were a criminal!” He shrugged.

“Why does that matter? You can’t just completely take someone’s life away. That’s not who you are. Before you say you didn’t, you came real close to.” You stood your position.

It felt like you shot him straight in the heart.

He should’ve listened to you. But instead, he took a shot right back at you, a shot to kill.

“Again, they’re criminals. I’m sorry I had to calm things down somehow. I’m sorry I needed to do something to catch a break for once in my damn life. And you’re not exactly helping that.” He looked away from you. He felt ashamed.

You were right, he knew that, even then. But his pride couldn’t let him admit it.

“What is wrong with you? You love Spider-Man. And you always talk about how killing sickens you. You’ve changed, Peter.” You spat back at him.

He should’ve just ended it there, stopped the excessive violence, stopped the fight. Maybe then he wouldn’t have been in your kitchen on that faithful Tuesday.

It had been two days since that argument.

His almost perfect rep was officially ruined (Jameson had a field trip that day, too). The stress was at an all-time high.

He almost couldn’t handle it. He didn’t want to anymore.

He was still so angry at you for being right. Because you always were.

You were the one who kept him balanced, who took care of him no matter the time of day or night.

He hadn’t been back to your apartment since the fight, either.

But he would return to it after a tough night the day after. And the next.

And you forgave him, so fast (He took you to see the Barbie movie, paid for every snack and drink you could’ve wanted. It was indisputable on your end). The guilt from what Peter’s put you through has just stacked on and on.

Now he really couldn’t handle it anymore. 

And so, there he was. Sat atop a random rooftop rethinking everything.

He debated his life. His three lives, more like. Which parts were worth it, and which weren’t. (It was really fucked up, who measures parts of their life in worth and just decides which to throw away?)

He couldn’t lose his job, how would he make money?

He couldn’t stop being Spider-Man, he knew that.

And there was you. The biggest and undoubtedly the most important part.

But you were also easy to throw away, he thought.

So much stress and time would be lifted off of his shoulders.

(Little did he know, it would be the complete opposite. His injuries didn’t heal all the way like they did when you took care of him. Every time he was hurt, it would linger for days at a time. He missed how much you’d worried for him. He really took you for granted.)

And so, he decided in the next couple of weeks, he would break it off.

And he did. On the Tuesday the following week.

He looks back on it — to this day — and realized everything he had said to you that evening, wasn’t directed at you. It was directed at himself.

Of course he enjoyed loving you. He didn’t enjoy being himself was what.

He needed to be his best for you because he couldn’t be with anything else. He failed at being the friendly and reliable Spider-man. Him and Doc didn’t get the grant they’d been needing for so long.

And when he did try to improve when you called him out that night, it just wasn’t enough.

He didn’t deserve you.

He took everything out on you, he didn’t mean a word he said. But you didn’t know that.

Peter never had an outlet to take anything out. He couldn’t leave you with every burden of his life, Doc and him weren’t that close, and May couldn’t know he was Spider-Man.

He snapped that Tuesday.

And there’s nothing more that he regrets in his entire life.

But he couldn’t burden you anymore. He wouldn’t.

He did nothing but keep you up late at night, hurt your feelings, and make you do everything for him.

Peter loved you. And he couldn’t let himself torture you like this.

So he forced himself to let you go. You would move on, anyways. He couldn’t.

He listened to every single one of the voicemails you sent.

Every. Single. One. He’s never heard you sound so down (Because of him, nonetheless).

It took so much out of him to not respond. More than what he had to give.

And after five weeks, he finally caved.

He texted you.

9:52 PM

Hey, beautiful.

You wouldn’t forgive him quick this time, he knew that. This time wasn’t just some fight. He tore your heart apart.

But he would work for your forgiveness, he swore to himself, God as his witness.

You read the message immediately. He knew you had gotten off of work, so it wasn’t completely abnormal.

But you didn’t respond. He checked his phone all night and the next morning (He was desperate for something, even if it was an angry text. He hated nothing more than you ignoring him).

So he texted you again. He just went straight for it this time, no holding back anymore.

1:16 PM

Can we meet up?? I think we can agree there’s still some loose ends we need to revisit, together.

Read 1:18 PM

He was patient this time. He tried stepping in your shoes, and it broke his heart. He couldn’t imagine you snapping on him like he had.

He couldn’t live if you were angry at him like he was at you. And if you weren’t going to respond again he was debating on just showing up to your apartment. Can’t ignore him that way.

2:12 PM

Y/N 💞 : “Loose ends” is a funny term. You mean when you randomly showed up to my apartment and broke up with me for the stupidest reason?

He cringed. This was a dumb decision.

2:12 PM

I know, trust me. I just want to talk. And explain myself.

Explain my biggest mistake. I’ve never regretted anything more than leaving you and taking the anger at myself onto you.

He debated on sending the message, but he didn’t.

You would just see it as him trying kiss your ass into forgiving him. It worked before.

2:14 PM

Y/N 💞 : Peter, why? Why are you only just know texting me? Why are you trying to meet up when you tore my heart into pieces? Why are you seeking forgiveness randomly?

Why are you asking such hard questions, he wanted to ask.

2:14 PM

Idk, I miss you?

I miss you and still love you. I regret that night so much.

Can you just hear me out? Please?

Nothing sounded right. But he just went for it, again. At this point, he was pacing across his rooftop, anxious for your response (If you even gave him one).

2:15 PM

Y/N 💞 : Peter, I swear. If you make me regret this, I’ll come for you. Worse than any enemy you’ve ever faced and ever will.

He laughed at that one. You wouldn’t —right?—

2:15 PM

I won’t, Y/N. I promise. Tomorrow, Micks at 3?

Read 2:16 PM

You left him on read, but he counted that as a success — you didn’t refuse his offer so.. —

He would come back from this. He has to.

Peter was late. Fuck him.

Why did you even give him your time of day anymore? This man could tear you apart and you still gave into his words.

3:13 PM

Peter 🕸️ : Babt, I’mso sotry. I got caugjt up with worl, I’m bloxks away I sqaer.

You could barely understand him, but you were used to his usually proper grammar slipping while he was swinging.

How dare he? How dare he beg you to come out here and he gets to show up late??

He practically busted the restaurant’s door open. He rushed to your table.

“Baby I-”

“No,” You interrupted. “You don’t get to call me that. Fuck you, asshole. You ask me to meet you and you show up late? Are you kidding me?” You crossed your arms and stood up from the booth you were sitting at.

“Y/N, I’m so, so sorry. I got caught up with Doc at work. Huuge internal wiring problem. I don’t even understand how he could’ve messed it up so badly,” He talked with his hands, he was so cute when he did that.

You took a step towards him, and slapped the shit out of his stupidly attractive face.

“You don’t get to break me and show up late when you wanted me here.” The tears were back. You were livid. You shoved your finger into his face as you scolded him.

“I know, I know. I keep fucking up and I’m sorry. Lets just sit down and let me explain everything. I promise you, it’s worth it.” He put his hands on both of your shoulders to keep you from leaving and tried to calm you down.

“Hands off,” You pulled his hands away from your shoulder and slumped back into the booth.

You wanted to go home.

“Okay, okay.” He sat down and stared at you.

“Well?” You waited, “Let’s hear this explanation,” You rolled your eyes.

“Well, uh-” He paused for a moment, “I don’t know how to start.”

You waited for him to continue, arms still crossed. You really didn’t want to hear him out.

“Do you remember when I almost beat the life outta that guy? Like a month ago or something?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You rolled your eyes again, not exactly a good moment to bring up.

“I feel like that’s where it started,”

“Mhm..” You nodded for him to keep going.

“I started slipping. I stopped pulling my punches and I was so stressed out every moment of my life. A-and one day I just got so sick of it,” He started choking up, you almost felt bad for him.

“So I sat down and tried to organize my life. I wanted to rid myself of stress and try to free up time for myself in order to y’know, rejuvenate.”

You sat there, you were expecting plain excuses. But it seemed he had something real going here.

“I couldn’t rid myself of my job — how else would I be able to live? — and obviously Spider-Man isn’t a choice. And there came you. The best and biggest part of my life.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue.

“I was stupid, I thought that by taking a break, I’d feel more free. And feel more.. well less stressed out. If I had something to myself then I would be better and feel okay? I don’t know.”

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Don’t look at me like that, please. I was so overwhelmed with everything. I’ve been so behind on rent, and crime just never stops around here. Its like it raises more and more every week.”

“I thought-” He took a deep breath, “I thought that if I had one less chore — trust me you are not a chore to me — life would get easier.”

You’re guessing he tried to rephrase his words he said before, he’s almost repeating himself.

“But it didn’t. At all. I was in pain all the time — emotionally and physically — it didn’t help at all. I said I didn’t enjoy loving you. I lied. I didn’t enjoy loving myself- or being me.”

Your heart clenched for him. He hurt you so bad, but hearing how he truly felt made you slightly reconsider things.

“I didn’t enjoy the stress of my life, and I don’t have any outlet for my anger. And you forgave me so easily the last time we fought. And I guess I took advantage of that. I took all of the hate I had for myself onto you. I think that will forever be my biggest mistake.”

Your eyebrows scrunched.

“I love you. So much, Y/N. More than words can describe. I’ve never regretted anything more in my life and I can’t ever be away from you, again.”

“I broke it off thinking it would cause me less stress, but I understand now that it was you who took the pressure away. Being away from you, Y/N,” He laughed (At his own pain, seemingly). “I’ve never felt shittier in my life.”

Your tears flowed. Your expectations were well exceeded. He’s fucked up so much, but he makes up for it every time. And this time, it wasn’t done by kissing your ass and spoiling you, you recognized that.

“I can’t explain how sorry I am. I regret what I did to you that night so much. More than anything in the world. I just hope you can understand that.”

“I hope you can understand me.” He kept eye contact, his eyes were watery. “I know how complicated I can get,” He let out a breathy laugh.

“Pete.” You just about whispered his name.

“Yeah..?” He wiped his eyes on his sleeve before answering you.

“I forgive you.” You smiled, still crying from his well thought out (you had to give him credit) apology.

“Wait- Really?”

“Yeah. I do.”

He stood up and hugged you from across the table.

“But..”

“But..?” He repeated you, curiously. He let go of the hug to look you in the eyes.

“You’re gonna have to pay for the meal if you really want me back.”

He laughed.

“I love you.”

He grabbed your cheeks and pulled you in for a kiss. He’s never kissed you so hard.

Stunned, but pleasantly surprised, you sat there for a moment. Unsure of whether you should kiss him or not.

But you grabbed his collar and melted into the kiss.

No matter how hard he had broken you, his words brought you back to him.

And you wouldn’t regret it, you knew that.

part 2 is finished 🥹

just wanna explain a few things just in case:

peter is a lil ooc w the excessive violence and it’s not him to be like that but i feel like every body gets to that point where everything can be just too much. even spider-man.

i also feel like he needs a healthy outlet for his feelings, being spiderman, he’s constantly busy. not exactly easy to make friends. but also being spiderman, he doesn’t wanna leave y/n with all of his problems, he’s supposed to be the hero. so he bottles it all up. to the point where he just burst one day and took it out on her. (not good!!)

also i felt like him being a man, he’s going to feel insecure if y/n’s the one taking care of him all the time. he’s the man, it’s supposed to be the other way around, but it’s not. and that’s okay!! often times, old traditions still lies deep within all of us. men’s mental health matters too!! men can still feel insecure!! EVERYONE DOES. but that doesn’t mean we (as people) can take out our insecurities or anger at ourselves onto other people. most times, they don’t deserve the hate we bring onto ourselves.

that being said, not everyone can be perfect. (peter is a great example) we’re all going through something in life and are constantly being tested. but, the biggest thing is to always persevere no matter what. you’re never going to have more on your plate than you can handle. if you’re struggling, always remember to reach out to someone. a loved one, a professional, or even me. my dms are always open. i love you all. 🩷

anyways,

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated!!

i hope you all enjoyed this story as much as i liked writing it 💗💗

[leoniestarlee]

Illyrian Assassin (21)

Pairing: Azriel x OC

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning: slow burn, dr!nking, f!ght

--

“Shot! Shot! Shot!” Feyre and Mor chanted as we sat in our usual booth at Rita’s with four shots lined up in front of me. We’d all agreed to go out tonight, except for Amren who decided to stay at the townhouse and thankfully watch Willa and Daisy for me.

“We’re going to the Summer Court tomorrow,” I said to Feyre, before looking at Mor. “Is this a good idea? I shouldn’t turn up there hungover.”

Mor drunklike giggled. “When have you ever said no to a shot?”

“Did I just hear you right?” Cassian asked, stopping beside our booth with Rhysand and Azriel, drinks in hand. “Rory never says no to a shot.”

“That’s not true,” I grumbled over the music playing around us while other Fae danced on the dance floor. “You make me sound like an alcoholic in front of Feyre.”

Rhysand laughed a real laugh, leaning against Feyre’s seat. “She was bound to find out anyway.”

My jaw dropped as I sent me a small glare. “I’m not an alcoholic!”

“You’re right,” Mor mused, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re a pussy that can’t do shots.”

“Me? A pussy?” I gasped, allowing the previous alcohol to take over my mouth. “I’m not a pussy! I can out drink anyone here and you all know it.”

Feyre smirked, pushing one of the shots closer to me from across the table. “Prove it then.”

I held her stare, picking up the shot. “I will.” And I brought the glass to my lips, tilting my head back. The shot didn’t burn like I expected it to as it went down the back of my throat. That just meant I was already drunk.

Mor, Feyre, and Cassian cheered as I slammed the glass down, already picking up the next and taking it down like a champion. I repeated that two more times before wiping the excess liquor from around my mouth and flashing them a grin.

“Keep them coming!” I shouted, taking Cassian’s beer and having a swig.

“As long as she doesn’t get in any fights, then we’ll be safe tonight,” Azriel laughed to Cassian, sliding into the booth beside me.

“Seems I need another beer.” Cassian narrowed his eyes on his beer in my hand as I smiled. “I’ll get more shots while I’m at the bar,” he informed us, walking away with Mor following him.

“Maybe you should slow down,” Az suggested, his shoulder brushing against mine and the small touch sent heat through my body.

I looked up at him, taking another sip of the beer. “I’ve already started,” I said, cringing at the slight slur in my words. “I shouldn’t slow down now when I have the whole night left.”

“Exactly!” Feyre exclaimed, pointing at me while she leaned into Rhys who didn’t hide the fact he was admiring her.

I smiled more, high fiving her. I turned back to Az, only this time his eyes were focused down at my lips, an emotion I couldn’t read in his eyes. But the look was enough to make me blush as butterflies hatched in my body, taking flight in my stomach.

Since we were young, there had been an unspoken…relationship between us. Our friendship seemed to always take that nervous step toward something else. Something that isn’t just friends. But so much more. We never spoke about it—never actually acknowledged it. Yet we both knew that friends don’t act like we do with each other.

Sure, sometimes I would hold Cassian’s hand or hug Rhysand on the couch. But me and Azriel—we weren’t platonic friends like that. I never shared long glances across the room with Cass or Rhys. They never kissed me on the top of the head like Azriel. I wouldn’t seek either of the males for comfort like I do with Az. And I certainty didn’t sneak into their beds for cuddles like I did with Azriel when we were younger.

“I got more shots!” Mor announced, snapping my attention away from Az and to her as she placed down more shot glasses with Cass beside her with a new beer. “Lets hurry this up so I can dance!”

I laughed, putting my beer down and grabbing a shot with everyone, but Azriel.

“Come on, Az,” Cassian drawled, pushing a shot toward him. “If we’re all doing one, then so are you.”

Azriel shook his head with a small eye roll. “I’ve got to be up early tomorrow,” he said, not moving his scarred hand toward the glass.

I lifted mine up to him, making him face me with a raised brow. “If I can get drunk the night before going to the Summer Court, then I’m sure you can get drunk with me tonight.”

Rhys and Cassian continued to try and convince him, but he paid them no mind as he focused on me, his eyes darting down to my lips, again, for only a split second before looking back into my eyes. I gave him an encouraging smile, trying not to show him how flustered that small glance made me.

“Only one shot,” he said, giving in while I cheered with Rhys and Cassian as Mor and Feyre giggled.

I waited until he tilted his head back—mercifully showing off that sharp jawline—and the liquor went down his throat before I took mine with a smile.

“Now we dance!” Mor said, reaching across Az and grabbing my hand.

“Mor!” I shrieked with a laugh as she tried pulling me out of the booth.

Azriel wrapped his arm around the back of my waist, his hand landing on the side of my thigh as Mor nearly dragged me onto his lap. My hand was still in Mor’s, who wasn’t giving up, still pulling me as Cassian howled in laughter at no doubt my red face. I hadn’t even realized my other hand landed on Azriel’s thigh, softly squeezing it to brace myself until his leg tensed.

“I’m so sorry,” I quickly said, snatching my hand away as I looked up at him with heated cheeks. “That—I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay, angel,” he lowly said, placing his other hand on my waist and looking over at Mor. “Let go of her hand so I can move her.” Mor obeyed, dropping my hand and before I could even stop him, he lifted me up like I weighed nothing and moved me to the other side of him.

I stood up straight as he started to move his hands away from my waist, but I couldn’t help myself as I grabbed his hand, facing him. His scars were rough against my palm, and I prayed I wouldn’t sound nervous as I said, “Come dance with us.”

His brows rose, a smirk tugging at the corner of those sensuous lips. Mor had already given up on waiting for me, dragging Feyre to the dance floor who then dragged Cassian and Rhysand behind her.

“I’m not sure you’d want me dancing with you lot,” he said, allowing me to continue holding his hand.

I arched a brow. “And why not?”

This time he did smirk as he pulled my hand, making me move my feet closer to him until it was only the side of the booth keeping us apart. “Because I might get in a fight if some other male dances with you.”

I had to stop my jaw from dropping and releasing a small, surprised gasp as my eyes widened at him and he chuckled, letting go of my hand to now rest his own on my waist, again.

I quickly recovered, mirroring his smirk. And maybe it was the alcohol that made me bold, but I couldn’t give two shits as I said, “You’re the only male I want dancing with me.”

Was he surprised by my bold words? I couldn’t tell with that smirk still on his lips as he looked me up and down. I pulled my lip between my teeth as I nervously waited, wishing whatever boldness I had a few second ago didn’t disappear from me so fast.

“That means you’re mine tonight.” He stood up, his shadows snaking up my arms like a cold breeze as I didn’t bother holding back my smile.

You’re mine tonight. Why the hell did those three words make me so damn happy?

Feeling confident and excited, I headed toward the dance floor with his hand resting on my lower back while he stuck close to me, the both of us pushing through the swaying bodies as we looked for our friends.

“Rory!” Feyre called, waving her hand out toward me as I spotted them in the middle of the swaying bodies. “I thought you would never join us.”

“And you convinced the shadowsinger,” Cassian mused, glancing between me and Az with a knowing grin.

I playfully rolled my eyes, taking Mor’s hand as she started to dance with Feyre in front of me. Azriel still stayed close, one hand on my back as I swayed to the rhythm, allowing my hair to freely bounce off my back.

A few more shots later, I was still on the dance floor with everyone else, but this time both of Azriel’s hands were on my lower stomach as I pressed my back into his chest. Rhys had winked at us once and Cassian had proudly patted Az on the shoulder but with a warning in his eyes. Illyrians.

I was enjoying my time, being able to feel free and without any worries in my mind as I danced with Az—and the others every now and then. But since the moment Azriel placed his hands on me and pulled my back into his chest, we hadn’t let go of each other. As if we couldn’t let go of each other.

It wasn’t until someone harshly bumped into Azriel’s shoulder, making him drop his hand from my waist did we finally move away from each other. I turned around in confusion, only to be met with more confusion at the icy rage in Azriel’s eyes as a High Fae male squared up to him beside us.

“What the fuck was that for?” the male slurred, the stench of alcohol on his breath as he glared at Azriel.

Azriel’s shadows clung to my arms like a shield, letting me know that he knew I was watching. But he didn’t say anything, didn’t even move his eyes away from the drunken male as he let go of me completely and turned his whole body toward him.

“Is everything alright here?” Cassian asked, stepping close to my back. Even without looking at him, I could feel his body tense and on alert.

The male directed his glare to Cassian, looking at his wings with disgust. “Mind your business, lesser faerie,” he spat, rising his glass up and the golden liquor in it splashed over the rim.

“What the fuck did he just say?” I questioned, my voice sounding unsettlingly calm as I took a step closer to Az.

The drunken idiot looked to me, his tongue licking along his bottom lip as his eyes traced my figure, sending a disgusted feeling through my body. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing here with them?”

“That, ‘lesser faerie’, as you like to call him, is my brother,” I stated, disgust and anger lacing with each word. His eyes bounced between us, and I placed myself in front of Az and Cass. “And this faerie,”—I pointed to Azriel without looking at him—“has been mine for the last five hundred years.”

Surprise flashed in his eyes, only to be replaced with disgust and hatred. “So you’re all lesser faeries then. You should be licking my boots,” he hissed, shoving his hand toward me. The liquor in it splashed onto my dress, making me huff in anger as I took a step back. 

“Not only have you disrespected us in front of her,” Cassian started, his voice dangerously low, “but now you’ve split your drink on her dress.”

Azriel deeply chuckled behind me. “I would suggest leaving before my angel does something you won’t like.”

The male laughed, looking at me like I’m nothing more than a weak female. “What’s a little thing like her going to do—”

My anger snapped, along with something in his jaw as I threw my arm out and my first connected with his face. Cassian laughed behind me, the many fae around us gasping as the male landed on the ground with a small cry. I stood straight, clenching and unclenching my hand, embracing the burning pain in my knuckles.

“Call us lesser faeries again,” I challenged, bending down until my face was inches away from his while he held his jaw, eyes wide, staring into mine. “I fucking dare you.”

He aggressively shook his head, trying to open his mouth only to quickly close it with a groan.

Satisfaction bubbled through my body as I sweetly smiled, lightly tapping the other side of his face. “Smart choice,” I crooned.

“What the hell happened here?” Rhysand asked from behind me.

I looked up at him with a smile. “This dickhead called us lesser fae,” I simply said, turning my body away from the male.

Rhys tried not to smile, but he failed and softly laughed, looking at the cowering male on the ground behind me. “You truly messed up by saying that to her.” Then the amusement wiped off his face while I stepped up to Azriel’s side. “If you ever call anyone lesser fae again, then I’ll wipe your mind and drop you in a different court.”

“Come on,” Az murmured, grabbing my unharmed hand and starting to pull me away.

Cassian snorted behind us. “That was the perfect example of ‘fuck around and find out’.”

I looked over my shoulder at him with a small grin. “I’m the definition of ‘fuck around and find out’.”

“There’s no doubt about that,” Az chuckled, before leaning down to whisper in my ear, “and it’s about time you realized I’ve been yours for five hundred years.”

-----------------

@waytoomanyteenagefeels

[pearl-blue-musings]

lonely dancers

I heard this song one time and it made me cry and therefore I have to write something about it

Various x reader

Word count: ~1.5K

Inspired by

The lights all around you do little to stifle the emotions raging within your heart and mind. You can’t even hear your own breathing or heartbeat as the music pumps loudly in your ears. All you can see is the back of your now ex-lover as he maneuvers his way through the crowd with the reason he ended your relationship. He thought it was a good idea to ghost you for weeks only to show up on your cheering up night with why he ghosted you. You think your skin is numb, but it’s hard to tell with all the sweaty people around you dancing to the music. They push and shove against you, small and pitiful apologies tumbling from your mouth. The movement surrounding you makes you want to shrink in on yourself and disappear. Your stomach flips, your knees feel weak and your head swirls. A hiccup escapes your throat as you cry freely, makeup be damned.

All the while, you’re unaware of a pair of eyes watching your every move and happened to see the scene in front of him unfold. He’s not sure what makes him get up, but now he’s moving through the crowd to lightly tap your shoulder. You turn around on instinct without wiping your eyes and meet his invested gaze. He speaks first,

“Hey.”

Rivals to lovers trope

Upon seeing him, you whisper a hushed “fuck,” before aggressively wiping at your eyes. He was the last person you wanted to see and here he is, in all of his smug glory to rub it in your face how much better he is than you. You can barely meet his gaze as you attempt to sniffle quietly. His hand leaves your shoulder to gently tug your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. Was he, also upset? Why are his eyes tinted slightly red?

His voice breaks your thoughts. “Forget that guy. He’s a piece of shit who clearly doesn’t know your worth. And he’s certainly not worth your tears.” His thumb goes to wipe a stray tear off your cheek and you swallow a lump in your throat. You try to shake your head but his grip on your chin is strong. “You’re better than him.”

You chuckle cynically. “And what about you? Did you get your heart broken too?”

“This isn’t about me-”

“You totally did.”

The tips of his ears burn crimson at being called out. Sure, he’s lonely tonight but you don’t have to know why he was upset. Was it the way your eyes seemed to shine when your lover finally looked your way? How he wished you would look at him that way instead of with disdain and hatred? He clicks his tongue with a roll of his eyes before he surprises you with a slow yet soft kiss. You had briefly shut your eyes as they made contact and they flutter open upon the kiss ending. His pupils are dilated and he looks to be saying something endearing before he whispers out, “that’s me 36, you 35.”

You bite your lip with a grin before grabbing his shirt for another kiss. He’s using this to bring up your long time rivalry? He wants to one up you now? “Not if I keep kissing you. And now we’re even.”

“For now.”

Alhaitham, Tsukishima, Wanderer, Luka, Geto, Megumi, Atsumu, Gepard, Dr. Ratio, Byakuya Togami, Yamamoto, Shirabu, Daisho, Gojo, Childe, Jing Yuan, Bakugou, Oboro, Terushima, Wriothesly, Hawks, Oikawa

Friends to Lovers

Who was he to just stand there and watch you get your heartbroken? You had texted him earlier saying you were going out on your own to try and have a fun night. He had wanted to keep a safe distance for now, but when he saw the two of you talking and how excited you seemed at first, his heart sank. But then when your tears began to fall freely and your stare blank he had to come up to you. He gently pressed his hand to your shoulder and couldn’t help but feel tears prick the corner of his eyes. He hated seeing you like this and how broken you seemed. It wasn’t fair. His hands move on their own as he cups your face and brushes your tears away. He places a chaste kiss to your forehead and before you can try to refuse, he brings your hands to clasp behind his neck as he puts his hands on your hips.

“Dance with me, we both shouldn’t be crying tonight.”

It takes a moment for you to register what’s going on but fall easily into the sway of the music. You lay your head in his chest and the beating of his heart is somehow able to calm your own. His hands feel good on you and being pressed against him feels so right. Has he always been right here? But you start to remember conversations with him and you quickly lift your head. “But, what about that person you’ve been telling me about? The one you’re,” the words suddenly feeling heavy on your tongue, “in love with?”

He merely smiles and cups your face once more, a slight pout coming to your lips at the lack of contact. His forehead rests against yours as he kisses you confidently.

“It’s you silly, it’s always been you.”

Kaveh, Diluc, Kaeya, Kirishima, Shinsou, Yuuji, Takemichi, Mitsuya, Welt Yang, Bokuto, Tighnari, Kuroo, Midoriya, Chifuyu, Kakucho, Yamaguchi, Mirio, Thoma, Sugawara, Kazuha, Lyney

Shy friends to lovers.

You were surprised to see him when you turned around. Overwhelmed with your own feelings you wrap in a hug and pull him tight. You cry into his shoulder as he holds you close. The sound of your cries almost brings him to tears but he’s able to be strong right now for you. After a few more seconds of needed crying, you pull away and look into his eyes. Even with your makeup smudged and eyes red from tears, he still finds you breathtaking. You choke back a sob as you ask, “how did you know where to find me?”

His hands are still on your waist when he responds. “Your friend messaged me that they saw your ex here and that you were also going here. They wanted me to check on you, and well here I am.”

You smile sadly at him as your hands now fall from behind his neck to his shoulders. “Wait, I thought you had a date? What happened?”

He can barely look at you as he blushes slightly. “I left. You needed me, and so I’m here.”

Maybe it’s the blinding lights and the thumping bass, but the way he’s looking at you makes you want to lean in and…

When you pull away both you realize just how close and intimate the two of you must appear. You quickly pull away before missing his touch and reaching out for his hand. Even with the music playing all around you, the two of you dance to your own music, being lonely dancers in the middle of a crowded club.

Albedo, Tamaki Amajiki, Nanami, Dan Heng, Hakkai, Kazutora, Denki, Aizawa, Takuma Ino, Yuta, Kageyama, Kita, Akaashi, Iwaizumi. Kamisato Ayato, Kenma, Inui, Hajime Hinata, Gundham Tanaka

Enemies to Lovers

Of all the people to run into it had to be him. You must look like an absolute mess and in front of the one guy you want to haul into the sun. You try to turn on your heel and get out of there, until a firm hand grabs your upper arm. “Let me go! What could you possibly want? To rub in my face how terrible I look? That I got my heart broken? And you got to see? You’ve now,” you inhale sharply, “seen me at my worst. Are you happy now?”

He lets you finish and calm your breathing. His grip on you has loosened but he hasn’t let you go. His gaze is firm as your tears eventually dry and you’re now shaking your head at him. You mumble under your breath as he lets you go and now you’re truly face to face. “Are you done?”

You roll your eyes before wiping them with the back of your hand, nodding toward him.”Good,” he says curtly before pulling you into his chest where his hands rest on your hips. Your hands then interlock behind his neck as his forehead now rests against yours. The two of you have only ever gotten this close to argue but never this intimately. You’re thrown from your thoughts when you feel a tear fall on your cheek. You know it’s not you so you briefly look up to catch his teary gaze. You’re about to ask when he opens his mouth first. “For some reason, seeing you all sad and shit really bothers me. And I really want to punch that mother fucker for making you cry, or kill him. I’m the only one allowed to make you cry, got it?” You hiccup and nod as he kisses the top of your head.

“We’re not gonna be lonely anymore,” he whispers against your forehead, kissing it again as you start to dance and get lost in the music together.

Blade, Atsumu, Mikey, Baji, Nagito, Rantaro, Dabi, Suna, Matsukawa, Kokichi, Sir Nighteye, Aki Hayakawa, Aventurine, Sampo, Monoma, Mondo Oowada

[nicolesainz]

Win until you bleed (CL16)

Charles Leclerc x reader

Warnings: (my pure imagination of charles winning wdc) and a lot of fluff, maybe bad Italian and French translations

I’m so sorry if it’s short. I will repay you :)

“Verstappen’s right on his tail Crofty!” Martin Brundle exclaimed anxiously as we all saw the Red Bull going head to head with the Ferrari.

"There hasn't been a more intense battle for first place for god knows how long. So thrilling!"

Thrilling the viewers and fans say, but everyone at the Ferrari garage, including me, thought this was nail-bitting and extremely cut-throating.

I have witnessed the highs and lows of Charles. Whether from up close or from a small television. From karting victories, to European championships being lost and then being crowned as the F2 champion.

Dnf's and mistakes have come and gone during those six years in Formula one. I have seen him smile a lot, but also cry. Cheer and shout, but also angry and disappointed. A true emotional rollercoaster.

With only 3 laps to go, Max and Charles were separated by just 5 seconds and that gap needed to be kept alive, otherwise, the title battle would come to a disappointing end for Charles. He would have to see Max stand at the top of the podium again, with another championship under his belt.

"Come on Charles! Je t'aime trop pour te perdre" (I love you too much to lose you) I whispered softly, as I prayed for a positive result or for a miracle to happen.

I felt two bodies leaning beside me, only for them to be Isa's and Carlos's. Poor Carlos was unfortunate enough to suffer an engine blow. At the moment, he didn't care about himself. He only wanted Charles to win and bring to Ferrari, what would be the 16th Drivers Championship.

Championship number 16, for the driver carrying number 16.

"He will take it. I have no doubt" Isa tried to calm me down as much as she could. The couple knew how much Charles meant to me. Everyone knows me as his best friend and ultimate supporter, but that figured it out how my love for him, had altered into something bigger.

"Chiudete gli occhi e tra un minuto sarà incoronato campione del mondo." (Close your eyes and in a minute, he will be crowned world champion) Carlos uttered, equally anxious about his teammate, who was having the battle of his life out there.

"And last lap" Xavi, Chalres's race engineer said through the team radio.

Max had managed to close the gap to 3 seconds, inching closer to the car in front of him. To say that I didn't feel like throwing up my guts, would be an understatement. I always am scared whenever Chalres races but this time, I could barely open my eyes to watch the final lap, on the screen of the garage.

"Forza Charles! Puoi fare questo!" (Come on Charles. You can do this) the entire ferrari garage shouted as the last few corners were approaching

"This may be it everyone. Ferrari, after almost two decades, without being crowned champions, will give the Italians tonight, something to remember for a long long time to come" Crofty's voice echoed through my headset, sending a positive wave of energy.

"Y/N, open your eyes. This is it!" Isa and Carlos took my hands in theirs and held them very tight.

"After years of anticipation, the bells will ring again happily in the small village of Maranello. Tifosi, come out of your houses, take out your hats, flags, shirts and wave them. Because tonight, for the first time, after finishing six year in formula one and five years with ferrari, Charles Leclerc is finally, a world champion under the red!"

The screams of happiness almost shook down the garage. Tears of joy were running down my cheeks. The biggest smile was plastered on my face as I ran towards the fence and climbed it as high as possible, alongside with Carlos and the mechanics who were applauding pridefully.

"The fucker did it. He kept his promise and won! You should be proud. Because this, is just the beginning." The Spanish driver, who had managed to clinch P3 in the drivers championship, said whilst yelling for his friend and now world champion teammate.

"Molte congratulazioni Charles. Sei ufficialmente un campione del mondo, sotto il nome di Ferrari. Sei il nostro figliol prodigo. Grazie." (Many congratulations Charles. You are officially, a world champion, under the name of ferrari. You are our prodigal son. Thank you.) Fred said through the team radio, before Carlos asked him to say a few words as well

"Sono più che onorato di essere vostro compagno di squadra e amico. Oggi ci hai reso tutti molto orgogliosi. Che guida straordinaria! Sono senza parole. Goditi questo momento, perché ne stanno per arrivare molti altri. E non presentarti in ritardo sul podio, una donna speciale ti sta aspettando." (I am more than honoured to be your teammate and friend. You made us all very proud today. What an amazing drive! I am speechless. Enjoy this moment, because many more great ones are about to arrive. And don't show up late to the podium, a special lady is waiting for you.)

"Grazie a tutti per il duro lavoro svolto in questa stagione. Non posso essere più grato. Amo tantissimo questa squadra e spero di continuare a rendervi orgogliosi il più possibile. Carlos e Fred, grazie per avermi creduto e dato fiducia. Y/N, sei tutto ciò che potrei mai chiedere a una persona. Tutti vorrebbero averti al proprio fianco, ma anche se sembra meschino, sono felice che tu sia solo mia." (Thank you everyone for the hard work you have put this season. I can't be more grateful. I love this team so much and I hope to keep on making you proud for as much as possible. Carlos and Fred, thank you for believing and trusting me. Y/N, you are all I could ever ask for in a person. Everyone would want to have you by their side, but even if this sounds mean, I am happy that you are only mine.)

“Tu as fait de moi la femme la plus heureuse du monde. Cette nuit est à toi et le championnat aussi. Je suis immensément fier de ce que tu as accompli. Je t'aime plus que les mots ne peuvent le décrire.” (You made me the happiest woman in the world. This night is yours and so is the championship. I am immensely proud of what you have achieved. I love you more than words can describe.)

The view of the podium, is one sight for sore eyes. A true beauty. My best friend, the man I love, standing at the very top. Being crowned world champions means so much to Charles and to me. I get to see him be the happiest version of himself.

When Charles got off the podium, before being wrapped to anyone else’s hug, he ran towards me and fell into my arms.

I’ve never felt my heart pounding so fast. His heavy breathing on my neck gave me tingles, which caused butterflies to crawl into my stomach.

Suddenly, his hands were free so he hugged me back, tighter and sweeter than ever before. He was mumbling something that I couldn’t really understand.

“I have to tell you something, but please, don’t freak out” Charles looked me deeply in the eyes, as if he was about to say something groundbreaking

“You’re scaring me. Are you alright?” I am full of worry and anxiety runs all over my body

“It’s a proposal. I need to ask you a very serious question-“

“Charles if there’s anything I can-“ I don’t even manage to finish my phrase when he blurts out

“Would you want to be my girlfriend? Honestly, there’s no other person I’d like to share my life with more than you. I see you more often than my own siblings and it’s up to the point I call you my family. I love you in all the ways you could possibly think and my heart breaks at the single thought of not having you close to me”

I fought the urge to not jump on him and wrap my body around his so hard, but unfortunately failed. The night became even better than it already was.

“I’d love more than anything else to be your girlfriend. No matter the circumstance, I will always love you Charles. Seeing you smile is my source of happiness and I wouldn’t change it.”

That night, was one, I’d never forget in my life. Nor I ever intend to. It’s the euphoria that keeps me sane and his love that runs in my veins.

[oh-its-souichi]

Marry Part 3

Sakuna x Reader

This is not edited warnings- the usual, death, emotional manipulation

...

It had been days since he had last seen you, he had barracaded himself away, thinking.

He sat in his tea room now, staring blankly at the wall. He didn't know what was coming over him, what was scratching its way through his chest. Hie eyes bore into the wall, and he gritted his teeth. Why did he stand up for you, and why did he insist you come and see him after you were clean.

You were just another stupid sacrifice, and he cursed the elders who chose to send you. Maybe he would be better off to kill you, snap your neck like the other women, and leave you to bleed.

He didn't like the thought of that, though. He imagined the feeling of your neck bones breaking under his grasp, and it made him nauseous. He signed adjusting his posture and dropping his head into his hands. "Fucking bitch" he mumbled. There had to be something he could do.

He cast his eyes out the window towards the thick green forested mountains, a malicious smile spreading across his face.

"Lord Sakuna" he heard a women say.

"What is it?" He replied.

"Your wife has grown ill again" she spoke again.

He sighed and rested his head in his hands. "I really dont care. Just leave her outside. It's a full moon tonight. The wolves will take care of her. " He was too busy to deal with or kill another woman. He was preoccupied with thinking of how to get rid of you. The women behind the sliding door to his tea room hesitated, and that annoyed him. "Do not make me repeat myself," he sighed, then stopped, "you said again?" He hadnt realized what women she was talking about before.

He got up from the floor and walked across the room with a smile on his face. "You're talking about that idiot woman, the one in pink?" He smiled, and your maid nodded. He had thought you would get an infection from being thrown into the pond and that he guessed that was what happened. "Maintain her treatment," he said, simply looking down. You maid stammered, taken aback by his words, but bowed "yes my lord," she said and walked away. He slid the door shut and returned to his spot by his table. He cast a look out the window and sighed again. "So much for getting rid of her" he mumbled a slight feeling of worry in his chest.

...

He found himself walking down the hallway it was mostly quiet but as wrapped around the corners leading to the chambers his wives resided he heard a distant commotion, it atarted with random thumps then as he got closer he could hear panicked voices. When he walked across the corridor and into the wives' chamber, he was met with disaray. Women were huddled in their doorways, their eyes cast down the hallway, not having noticed he stepped in. There were maids and servents rushing in and out of your room. Bloody sheets and gauze was stacked up along the hallway across from your door. Calmly he walked down the hall and into the room. The doctor he assigned to you was sweating profusely and trying to mix something up, the vanity in your room having become a sort of medical lab. You maid stood beside you, gripping your hand and his eyes widened when they finally found you.

You were barely covered, a sheet wrapped around you breasts and your lower region. Your hair was sprawled out around your head and your skin was ghastly. Your eyes were glazed over, and you were staring up at the ceiling. "Hes up there I know he is" you whispered, and your maid shook her head. "Hes not Y/N, please stop," she shushed, her voice tremmbling. There was so much commotion that no one seemed to notice. Something he had to fix.

He cleared his throat and the doctor and your maid snapped their heads up. "Would anyone care to explain what is going on here?" He smiled. The dr looked back down and continued mixing up a white liquid. "Shes gone into septic shock. Her wounds are badly infected, but shes not responding to the medicine. It is not touching the swelling nor her fever." He rushed slamming down the spoon in his hand. He carefully held the cup and rushed to your side. "Please help me ipen her mouth" he said to your maid and she nodded. "Y/N time to take your medicine" she whispered and he pondered at the sound of your name. He had never heard it before, never thought to learn it.

You didn't reply, just smiled weakly up at them. "I miss my father," you croaked. They ignored what you said and dumped the liquid down your throat, the aggression of it making him cringe. "This is fixable, I assume?"Sakuna said, and the dr. looked up at him. "At this point, I dont know my lord," he said with the face of a man that had accepted his own death. It almost made him laugh. "You know what happens if she dies doctor" he seethed under his sharp smile and the dr nodded. "Im well aware my lord." He said rushing back to the medicine table. "Has she swallowed it?" The dr called back and your maid looked into your mouth. "She has but it looks like-"

For a second time, it slowed down, and it was the scent that hit his noce first. It was the smell of rot, death. It came from you. He snapped his eyes up, and before you could return his gaze, he noticed your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your limbs began to shake, and he swiftly came to your side, shoving your maid away. "Leave us," he commanded. He worked on impulse, placing his hand on your chest he attempted to use reversed curse energy to take down your infection. It was a new technique to him so its effectivity would vary. He hoped it would take the edge off of the infection because after this seizure passed, he knew you would die. You were weak and he hated that. "Pathetic" he mummbled placing his hand on your chest. He focused his energry and suddenly he felt your body inflate underneath his palm. You took a deep breathe in and your eyes shot open. They immediately snapped to him but they didnt look grateful, nor happy. You looked horrified.

He felt a twinge of anger at the expressiona nd had half the mind to keep healing you until your body simply quit. "Im healing your wounds," he mumbled, but your expression remained the same.

You looked at him now like he was a monster and he hated it. 'I hate it?' He thought to himself, a chuckle bubbled up in his throat, and he began to laugh. He hated when you looked at him like a man, he hated when you looked at him like a monster. "Its best you dont look at me" he smiled but your eyes stayed locked onto him. He stared back at you feeling the challenge in your gaze. His smile slowly fell and he felt himself lift his right hand and strike you across the face. "I said enough!" He yelled.

Your eyes fluttered closed, and a welt of his hand swelled up on your face. Blood trickled down your face where his nails had dug into your cheek.

He had hit you harder than he meant to. He stood breathing heavily and took his hands off your body, staring down at you. The thoughts that had been in his head had vacated, and now he was left with a deafening silence and a nauseating sickness that churned in his stomach. He sighed and turned around, leaving the room.

This time, he left his palace and didn't return. He walked out the palace doors and down to the nearest village, pumbeling it to the ground, from the top of the hill all his wives heard the screams of those below but the snuggled deeper into their blankets avoiding the sound. As he drained the men and women of the village of their blood, snapping their necks and making them shreik, he felt his stomach turn in disgust. He felt angry at himself for hurting you. He wanted to march up the hill and heal the welt on your face. He wanted to swoop you under his arms and keep your from the world. It seemed you were better off untainted by it anyhow.

He sent no word of where he was going or how to contact him. He just left. Spending the next couple of months, basically killing and pillaging. He hungered for more power, and it was through this he was able to obtain it.

The day he returned, it was snowing and dark. The warm yellow lights of his palace looked cozy and comforting. A smile spread across his face when he thought of seeing you again. You had occupied a good part of his mind in the calmer times of his "vacation," but he tried to avoid the subject. It always led back to the memory of his hand print on your face, and he hated that it bothered him so. He walked up the wooden steps and swung open the doors. A gust of heat hit his body first and he took a deep breath in enjoying the stark difference in temperature.

Things looked the same on the inside, the smell as well. It's as if time had frozen since his departure. There were no sounds either, no people in sight. He closed the door behind him and started walking the palace. On his way around it a few maids scurried by, dropping their heads when they noticed him. "Welcome back, my lord," they squeaked. He ignored them and kept walking. His feet took him to your hallway. It was completely quiet, and all the lights were off, darkening the walkway to the point of pitfh black. He found his way to the end of the hallway and slowly opened your door. He half expected you to be gone. An empty mattress was the only thing left, but that wasn't the case. You were tucked neatly in your bed, facing the window. He snuck in, sliding the door behind him, and found his way to your side.

He slipped two of his arms under your back and two under your legs and lifted you easily up. Your eyes popped open, a gasp leaving your mouth but he shushed you.

Without a word uttered between you, he carried you back from where he had come, making his way to the main entrance and out the front door. His personal room was hidden underneath the palace from a different exit. It would be too obvious to sleep in the superfluous building. He covered your eyes and made his way to a mossy stone carving. It was of a dragon, a horrid looking one. The surrounding area was thick with trees and shrubbery, so someone would have to be pretty hard pressed to notice the statue. He harshly twisted its head, and a vaulted door opened beneath him. He stepped down the stairs, and it closed quickly behind him.

It was a long staircase and much more dingey than he remembered. He didn't spend much time down here. Rest at this point for him was somewhat of a pleasure activity, so he usually found himself busing himself with his studies or training. At the bottom of the stairs was another door. He opened it, being met with a blast of warm air. It smelled good as well, a deep perfume smell, along with the hint of smell the fireplace gave off. The carpet was plush red, and though the room wasn't huge, it was big enough to keep a red pit coach as well as a mahogany canopy bed on the far right corner. It was surrounded by whispy red fabrics that matched the theme of the room. He chose to keep things red and black. The coach was a dark perfect black along

You stared seemingly at nothing, not having said a word the entire way. "You will live here from now on" you said lowly and you snapped your head towards him, your eyes locking onto his. He saw your mouth open slightly to protest but you quickly closed it and turned your head back to it original position. "Yes, my lord," you said, your voice cool and calm. He smirked. "Am I not your husband?"

You nodded "Yes, my husband" you said your voice robotic now, lacking the same livelihood it had the first night he met you. It burned him and he felt rage well up into his throat.

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝? 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. | 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠

part three of do you feel my hand? it is there. | part one | part two | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve

pairing: minho x fem!reader (afab)

genre: veterinarian!minho (this includes a few of the skz members working in his clinic). client!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. strangers to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. minho is reader's vet. reader's childhood cat suddenly gets diagnosed with cancer, and she has to make a big decision about what to do. this fanfic includes heavy topics like: pet euthanasia, extreme loss/grief, depression, the problems with pet healthcare, and more. there will be some humor/fluff placed throughout, and also smut somewhere along the way. :))

18+ warnings: slight hints of masterbation. sexual fantasies.

word count: 4.2k

summary: dr. lee minho is known throughout your area as the city's hottest veterinarian, and he's also the very man that's been taking good care of your two cats for the past three years. but one day, you're thrown down a dark path of heartache when the cat that you've grown up with - nyx - is diagnosed with an acute form of bone cancer. burdened with the hardest decision of your entire life, you come at a crossroads of what to do. and throughout it all, minho is the single most person who continually stays by your side.

a/n: rewarding you guys with this update tonight as it's my birthday and i was feeling a little generous haha! 🥰 i am seriously SO overwhelmed by the positive response i've gotten on this little series of mine... it makes me incredibly happy to hear that a lot of you are enjoying this. i'm have about two-and-a-half draft chapters left to write to reach completion of this, and i'm excited for the big writing plans that i have in the future, so please look forward to that as well~ 💖

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

 The next six months passed in a blur of emotion and grief. Most days, it was hard to even force yourself out of bed. You just didn’t feel like doing anything - resulting in your dingy apartment growing filthy with uncleanliness. Boxes of takeout were sprawled across the kitchen counter, bottles of soju and wine - which you had been using to drown out your sorrows - were in every corner of the living room, and your bed was perpetually unmade. 

 You felt like you wore the same two outfits every single day - slacks and a blouse to work, and then baggy sweatpants and a hoodie as soon as you got home. But you couldn’t bring yourself to change - to clean, or to switch up your clothes. 

 It was even hard to eat. You felt nauseous most mornings, so you opted to skip breakfast and instead grab a quick snack at lunch which you forced down your dry throat. 

 Because fuck- was your throat dry. 

 It was mainly due to all of the crying, which would commence every time you would arrive home at night and walk into an apartment that was void of her. You saw Nyx in every corner, every surface of your place. The remnants of her life - of her memories - were hidden in the very fabric of your being and your grungy hovel that you called home. From the way that her food and water bowls were still right next to Taffy’s, how the comfy blanket she liked to curl up in was still positioned on the edge of your living room couch, and the box of her favorite treats that were still sitting atop your kitchen counter, opened long ago and left to grow stale from the chilly air. 

 Taffy was somewhat of a comfort, as she could no doubt sense your change in demeanor. Every time you’d break down into a fit of tears when you walked through your front door after a long, arduous day at work, she’d prance over to you and nuzzle her head into your folded-up legs. She’d lay beside you in bed late at night when the tears would finally stop falling but your heart squeezed and squeezed the life right out of you. 

 Because that’s what it felt like- 

 Like life was slipping right out of your hands, 

 From under your feet, you were slowly falling down that deep, dark hole. 

 But you just couldn’t seem to get yourself out of it, no matter how hard you tried. And try you did - as you forced yourself to go an entire week without breaking down. But then you saw an ad on tv that marketed a nearby cat cafe, and you ugly-cried for the next three days straight. 

 And through the worst of it all, you hated to ask for help. You knew that it was one of your biggest problems, the fact that you had a sort of inability to reach out to others when you needed a helping hand. 

 You all but shut down at work, resisting the invites of co-workers that were going to local clubs. You just sat down at your desk every day, forcing yourself to focus on your work before you could finally go home and sob the night away. 

 And the clinic- 

 Fuck, the clinic. 

 You hadn’t been back there since the day Nyx passed. 

 It just felt too depressing, to try and step foot in the place where she had been laid to rest. What once was a warm and comforting place now left a bitter taste in your mouth. You avoided the building at all costs, instead opting to walk side streets in case you ever needed to pass by it. 

 The pain was too real and raw for you to ever try visiting the clinic again, so you decided that you’d stop altogether and instead find a different place, that was just as close to your apartment but didn’t hold so many horrible memories for you. 

 After all, you’d probably die a slow death if something happened to Taffy because of your inability to take her to a vet. So at the six-month mark, you managed to find a nearby clinic that had relatively low prices. The veterinarian was nice enough, but she was quite serious and mainly only talked business with you. Thankfully, Taffy checked out in perfect health and the doctor recommended that you wait to bring her in until she hit her third birthday, which would be in about a year. 

 The doctor was amiable, but… 

Nothing like Dr. Lee. 

 And the thought of him was fresh in your mind the entire time that you visited the new clinic. The staff at Starry Skies also took up a lot of your focus, as you pondered on the gentleness they had all shown you during such a difficult time in your life. 

 But most of all, your previous local veterinarian kept stirring your heart the entire time that you sat in front of your new one. 

 And you couldn't help but compare her to him- 

 And how he’d always greet you with a warm smile and always laugh whenever you told him one of your stupid jokes. How he was so incredibly nice to everyone he came across, and how delicate he treated the animals at his clinic. But especially Nyx and Taffy… 

 He had had a special bond with your two cats, and you hated to take that away so suddenly. 

 However, the pain of going back there was just too much for you to endure. 

 So instead, you decided to work through your feelings about the old clinic - about Dr. Lee - and put everything to rest before you made a mistake that you knew you’d regret soon after… like dropping by the clinic late one night, unexpectedly. Like you had done that one time when Nyx had given you a big scare. 

 Even still, you caught yourself often pondering if he felt the same way… if he missed your presence at all, even a tiny bit. After all, you had been his client for over three years and had grown quite close throughout all of your visits. But the silence on his end was pretty blatant of his feelings on it all - that you were just another client who had lost touch with his services, and nothing more. Granted, the clinic’s front desk had tried to call you a few times after Nyx’s final day, but you had refused to answer any of the calls, and soon, they stopped altogether. 

 In the end, he was just your veterinarian. He wasn’t supposed to be anything else, anything more. The relationship there was supposed to remain stagnant and professional, no matter what. 

 So why, then, did you find it so hard to get over it all? 

 Your mind and heart were acting like the two of you had been dating for five fucking years. When in reality, you had only shared a platonic acquaintanceship for a few years because of your damn cats. It wasn’t like he thought of you any differently than before, nothing had changed… except for him calling you by your first name, and him touching you so many times and- 

 And yeah, 

 You’d admit that sometimes, after a long bout of successfully pushing him out of your thoughts, 

 You’d… treat yourself. 

 Late at night. 

 But only on very rare occasions… 

 When you were so exhausted from work and searching for a release, 

 When your fingers found that all-too-sensitive part of you, your mind drifting off to fantasizing about him. And what he’d feel like, doing such things to do. 

 Afterward, when you’d wake up the next day to face another grueling routine of mourning Nyx and work, you’d banish any pondering that you had about him, shoving all of that darkness into the very depths of your heart until you’d dredge them up again sometime later. 

 You continued to do such a routine for a long time, and slowly, as the months continued to pass, you realized that the pain… wasn’t so bad anymore. It was still there, and you still cried a few times a month about it. But it just didn’t feel as palpable and potent anymore. Things were different now, not like they had been right after Nyx's passing. It felt like a part of you was missing, and everything seemed a little bit darker. But you knew that with time, things would get better. You would keep Nyx's memory alive in my heart, and you would focus on the good times you shared. Life goes on, and you would do your best to honor Nyx's legacy by living your life to the fullest.

Gradually, you noticed a slight improvement in the mending of your heart. Piece by piece, you were putting it back together every day, by doing things that brought you joy. Recently, you picked up the hobby of cooking. And it felt good- to throw yourself into something that wasn’t work or chores or running errands. Already you had made a handful of dishes in your tiny apartment’s kitchen. Granted, they were nothing special and on the bland side of things, but you didn’t mind… it was, fun. And you liked seeing the finished product in the end. It was satisfying and made you feel proud of yourself, for the progress that you were making, little by little. 

 When you hit the one-year mark of Nyx being gone, you came to the sudden realization that in the wake of your grief, you had been ignoring your other cat, Taffy. And you began to notice how, after you’d arrive home from work, she’d no longer happily greet you at the door, and instead stay lounging on the living room's couch. 

 This opened a huge pit in your heart, as it pained you to acknowledge the fact that you had been so focused on Nyx and her leaving your side that you failed to see your other cat, who was suffering from loneliness. 

 Hence, you decided to take her to that nearby cat cafe that had recently opened up in your neighborhood. You had seen the ads for it on your tv, and you liked the idea of Taffy getting out of your small apartment and playing with other cats. She was a young thing, and quite rambunctious, so you were sure that she felt the absence of Nyx just as much as you.

 It wasn’t until Saturday rolled around that you were able to visit the new cafe, as that was one of your only days off from work. The place was quite busy for being so early in the morning, and as you stepped through the front doors, you were greeted with the cloying aroma of coffee and freshly baked pastries. 

 The friendly-looking girl at the cash register welcomed you with a bright smile as you made your way up to the front counter. “Hi there! Welcome to Cats & Cupcakes! What can I get you this morning?” 

 You motioned to Taffy, who was quietly meowing in her carrier to be let out as soon as she glimpsed the other cats that were roaming around the area. She was such a social butterfly - quite the opposite of you. “Uhm- I brought my cat along with me, I hope that’s okay?” 

 The young girl’s smile only grew wider as she caught sight of Taffy. “Oh my gosh, yes! We always welcome a new kitty around here! Just make sure you keep an eye on her during your visit.” 

 “Okay, thanks… Taffy here really needs some social time with other cats,” you laughed nervously, as you bent down and unzipped her carrier. Immediately, she shot out of the small black thing, scurrying over to a few of her furry friends that were playing with a faux mouse just off to the right of you. You couldn’t help the wide grin that bloomed across your face at the sight of her lively personality coming out so quickly. 

 “Will you be ordering anything today?” The girl at the register asked you then, forcing your attention away from your cat and onto the menu board that was hung just above her head. 

 “Yeah- I’m going to have a… lemon meringue cupcake and an iced chamomile tea, please.” With it being so late in the spring, the weather was finally warm enough for you to start drinking cold beverages again, which was one of the few pleasures in your life. 

 In no time at all, you were picking up your order at the front counter and finding a nearby table that was tucked into the very corner of the cafe. As you settled into the comfy armchair, your eyes followed Taffy around the room, as she chased a grey-coated chubby Scottish Fold. 

 You sat back in your seat, taking a sip of your chamomile tea and basking in the sunlight that shone down on you through the window to your left. The cafe was relatively small but bustling with activity. It was decorated with bright colors of violets and yellows, which painted everything in a rather cheerful mood. And of course, the many cats roaming around also helped to add to the atmosphere of happiness. 

 As you studied your surroundings, your eyes landed on the figure of a man sitting in a chair similar to yours. He was by himself, his head turned downward, as he was immersed in a thick book. But he looked so… familiar. From the way that the light blue sweater he was wearing clung to his shoulders, to the way that his brown-rimmed glasses slipped down the sharp bridge of his nose, and the way that his raven-black locks were slightly tousled from the windy morning. A large white cat was lying across his lap, dozing happily as he stroked its back with a hand. The way that his slender fingers gently combed through the kitty's fur lit up a part of your heart with fuzzy warmth. 

 He looked like someone you knew well, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on it…

 Just then, a young couple filed through the front doors of the cafe, the tiny bell jingling at the top of the door to signal their welcome. This serene noise prompted the man to peek up from his book and study the newcomers, his eyes landing on the sweet way that they were holding hands.

 And all at once, you completely froze in your place. 

 Spine going rigid, 

 Fingers clutching at your jeans, 

 Heart skipping over itself inside your chest. 

 Because holy fuck- there he was. 

 In all of his handsome, typical glory… 

 No wonder why you felt like you had recognized him. 

 Dr. Lee didn’t look any different from the last time you had seen him, which had already been over a year since Nyx had left your side on that fateful day. He still had that easiness about him, that gentle aura that radiated around him like a faint, glorious halo. 

 But before you could think about anything else, the fear was creeping up in your mind. About what he’d think of you, if he saw you here - at the cafe - after so long of ghosting him and his clinic, even after everything they had all done for you. You were scared that he’d be angry with you for not darkening the doorstep of Starry Skies ever since that past April. 

 And if you were honest, the sadness also played a role in your warring feelings. Seeing him reminded you of so many of your past emotions - of grief and depression and heartache. 

 Before you could do, or even think anything else, he was shifting in his chair again, his opaque, chestnut-brown eyes scanning the cafe around him lazily. 

 Then those expressive irises came across your face, jamming to a stop at the sight of you sitting there, all alone in the corner of the cafe. 

 And your heart sunk into the pit of your stomach. 

 From the way that remembrance automatically dawned on his face, 

 From the way that his eyes lightened in that way that you had been so used to before, 

 From the way that a slight grin cracked across his lips. 

 And suddenly, you couldn’t handle it anymore. 

 Not right then. 

 You didn’t want to face all of the sentiments of seeing him again - of having to talk to him, after everything that had happened in the past year.

 So in a hasty moment, you scooped up Taffy who had been playing near your feet, and gently put her in her carrier ignoring her meows of protest. Then all at once, you were shooting up from your seat and rushing out of the cafe, your shoulders brushing past a woman as she stepped in at the same time you were leaving.

 Since your apartment was fairly close to the cafe, you began to walk down the side street just outside of the restaurant, setting a quick pace. Ignoring the sounds of movement behind you. Trying to block out the sound of someone calling your name. 

 It wasn’t until you felt a hand clamp down on your forearm that you stopped in your tracks. With your back turned you could hear the distinct sound of heavy breathing. The air seemed to constrict and bend around you - shifting uncomfortably and turning irrevocably frigid at the oncoming dread that you expected to appear any second. 

 “Y/N.” 

 The way that he said your name- the way that it rolled off his tongue so effortlessly, compressed your heart in pain. Caused the blood to rush a little harder in your veins. Caused a zap of energy to coarse down the length of your spine, pooling deep in your belly. You felt everything at that moment - the painful heat of breath flowing from your form to the way that his touch against your covered arm burned like fire down to the very depths of your soul.

 “Why- why are you running away?” 

 And as much as you wanted to avoid the confrontation, as much as you didn’t want to talk to him again, you decided that there was no longer another option. Because he had you in his grasp, with his fingers pressing into your skin, stopping you right in your place. And as it would seem, it was quite impossible for you to ever try and fight him when he was clasping onto you so delicately.  

 “It’s… it’s too hard,” you began, voice quaking at the end of your words from the ache that squeezed at your heart. “Seeing you- it reminds me of everything.” You screwed your eyes shut, cringy inwardly at the confession.

 There was a few beats of silence then, and you wanted to turn around. At that moment, you wanted to see what he looked like as you spoke in that quiet, shaky tone of yours. You wanted to know what he was feeling, just by the way that his eyes would land on your face. 

 Then, he was speaking again, but this time, he was a lot quieter than before. “Is that why you stopped coming around?” 

 Coming around to the clinic. 

 Stopped visiting Starry Skies and using his services. 

 And yes- at the beginning, the reason for your absence was because of Nyx and your sorrow from losing her. But as the months stretched on, and you started to heal from the agony of her passing, you came to terms with the fact that it wasn’t just because of her.

 It was also the fact that upon your realization that you- 

 That you had feelings for Dr. Lee, 

 You were reminded of your lot in life, about your two opposite positions... that he was a rich doctor and you were just a poor woman barely scraping by with her 9-to-5 job. 

 Even still, that didn’t stop the feelings from bubbling up every time you randomly passed the clinic on your commute to run errands. That's why you decided to avoid it entirely after a while. 

 It was better that way- than trying to face and acknowledge the storm that had been brewing inside of you for so long, without you even realizing it was stirring in the first place. 

 You hadn’t noticed the warning signs until it was all too late, 

 And you were too head-over-heels for him. 

 For the man that was far too unreachable for you. 

“Yeah, that’s why.” You managed to lie, swallowing around the lump that was beginning to form in your throat. You clutched a little harder at the handle of Taffy’s carrier, and thankfully, she was quiet for the moment - she probably recognized the scent of him. Just like you did. 

 “Well, we all miss you at the clinic… the guys are always asking me when you’ll be back,” Dr. Lee started, still holding onto your arm. Like, if he let go, you’d disappear right before his eyes, never to be seen again. Like you had been doing for the past year. “I miss you… you were- one of my favorite clients.” 

 And there it was. 

 Your worst fear for why you never told him about your true feelings. 

 That he only thought of you as his client. 

 Simply a woman that came around every six months so that he could treat her cats. 

 Nothing more, and nothing less. 

 In an instant, you were suddenly glad that you hadn’t turned around - that he hadn’t forced you to. Because you didn’t want to see his face then. Not when he shoved you into the friend zone without even realizing it. Or maybe, he did realize it. Maybe, he had known about your feelings all along but had been ignoring them this whole time because he wanted to keep things professional. 

  Because he just didn’t feel the same way about you… 

 “Well, I should get going. Taffy here doesn’t like being cooped up in her carrier for too long.” 

 With that, you pulled your arm out of his hold. He hadn’t been gripping you harshly, so it was easy for you to release yourself. Almost like, he didn’t want to trap you at the moment. Like, if you didn’t like speaking to him, you’d easily be able to get away without any such fight having to be put up on your end. 

 As you took a few steps forward, Minho’s soothing voice graced your ears once more.“Y/N- wait.” This time, his tone was soft - possibly the gentlest you had ever heard it before. And it did something funny to your soul, caused a low-lit candle to burn in the chasms of your body. Like an ember that just couldn’t be put out. “I… we’re having a party at my place next Friday night to celebrate the clinic’s fourth anniversary of being open. It’s just gonna be me and the guys, and super chill and-”

 “I don’t know, Dr. Lee… I- I don’t want to invade your special time with your friends.” 

 “You wouldn’t be invading, Y/N.” 

 “Still- I just-”

 “Say you’ll come. Please.” 

 The slight desperation that dripped into his baritone caused a profound stir inside of you, igniting something dark and murky in the pit of your mind. It was confusing yet exhilarating all at once, as this high-caliber man practically begged you to come to his homey party. And yeah- it’d probably be awkward as fuck at first since you hadn’t seen everyone in so long. But… you were off of work, and… it was at his place. Which was somewhere you’d always been curious about, if you had to be honest with yourself. 

“Okay, okay- I’ll go.” You finally said, looking down at your feet to try and hide the smile that crept across your mouth at the thought of spending more time with him. Because even if it hurt you- even if he wasn’t the right one, maybe a single night of partying with him would quell the ache inside of you. Would douse the blaze that was alight in your very being just by the thought of him alone. 

 “Great, I’ll text you my address and the time to be there.” And you couldn’t help to notice how he sounded lighter than before - like he was happy to hear that you were coming. You, who had practically ghosted him and everyone else for the past year. You, who was broke beyond belief and barely surviving in the harsh world around you. 

 You held on a little tighter to Taffy’s carrier, feeling the creep of a smile on your lips at the thought of getting to see him again. At getting to face him, finally, without having your back turned in cowardliness. “Well… I’ll see you then, I guess.” 

 “Yeah, have a good night…” His words faded off into the distance, as you began to make the commute back to your quaint apartment. 

 The entire time you walked down the street, you could feel his eyes on you - practically searing two holes into your skin as he stared you down until you turned a corner and eventually grew out of his sight. 

 But it didn’t terrify you in the least bit, like how it usually did when a man looked at you so intently.

 Rather, it caused butterflies to erupt in the pit of your stomach, 

 Forced your heart to beat a little harder, 

 Urged you to walk a little faster, as you began to ponder on what the party would be like. 

 More importantly, you wondered what you were going to wear to it…  

To be continued...

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[darsynia]

Shipping and Handling | Ch 1: Vicinity

(Stucky x Reader slow burn, Steve x Reader fast burn, Friendship all around)

SERIES MASTERLIST | STORY MASTERLIST | NEXT

Summary: There's a chance you and Steve aren't the only people dealing with the strange chemical bond from Mistress, so you agree to submit to daily tests that should help Dr. Banner figure out what's happening, and maybe how to stop it. The problem? Seeing each other every day brings a new set of side-effects that both of you hide from each other and Banner until things come to a head-- not just for the two of you, but also for the man who has to deal with you: Bucky Barnes.

The interference/involvement of Mistress has complicated everything. It may have also awakened something lovely enough to make navigating the ethical, emotional, and physical dilemmas worthwhile. Length/Warnings: 3,487 / sexual situations, male masturbation Prompt: @allcapsbingo April Adoptable: Sex Pollen ((I know, right??))

Tags: @starryeyes2000 @munstysmind @ronearoundblindly @chickensarentcheap @themaradaniels @tiny-anne @deepbatched @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @wolfstar-marvelsfan @icequeen1371 @chibijusstuff @nekoannie-chan @brooke0297 @caplanreblogsfics @hails270105 @venusfalling @zzz000eee @eralen @mrsevans90 @myinconnelly1 @thorinsmistress @cjand10 (had a little hiccup with duplicated names that aren't in my backup, and some not linking, sorry about that)

Excerpt:

Steve’s outward appearance of calm is deceptive, but he can’t risk hinting at the turmoil he’s going through, so he’s trying to focus solely on gathering up the take-out menus.

It’s… not going well.

He’s not good with slow stress. Emergencies, yes. Slow-rolling catastrophes with no clear path for remedy? Not his thing, particularly not when he can’t use his strength, use his hands to make things right.

Steve groans aloud. Everything slants sexual lately. Everything.

Chapter One: Vicinity

He’s falling, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

You wake up in the proverbial cold sweat, startled enough to remember only snippets of the bizarre dream-world you’d been caught up in. As if it were a natural thing, you’d been on a spaceship staring out at a planet-sized giant head, and while you were processing that part of the dream, an energy beam had struck your oval-shaped ship, cracking it apart like an egg. Because Steve had given up his buckled seat for you at the start of the voyage, he had nothing to anchor him in the emergency, and he’d been sucked out of the breach. All you could do is watch him fall away from you, knowing that you’d make things worse if you followed your instincts to rescue him.

The phone at your bedside buzzes, and you pick it up-- it’s Bucky, one of two people who bypass the Do Not Disturb setting. Despite not having performed last night, you’ve slept in, which is unusual.

“Hello?” you answer, cringing as soon as you hear the sound of your sleep-graveled voice.

“I woke you up? It’s past nine!”

You’re glad it’s Bucky and not someone who would be actually mad at you for sleeping in, but still. Not cool. “You think I keep Day Worker hours unless I have a show? Be real, Bucky, that would be annoying as hell.”

“Yeah, that’s fair. Is there one tonight?”

“No, rehearsal from lunch to four for tomorrow’s, though. Nineties Night. I’m thinking I might spike my hair to match the choker I’m going to wear, what do you think?” Not really, but you apparently woke up spicy.

“Don’t, I like your hair.” Bucky’s voice is gruff, and he clears his throat with a cough and continues like he’s said something out of line. “Come to my place after and we’ll get take-out. Steve says you two have to see each other once a day anyway.”

You’ve done take-out at your place multiple times with Bucky, but you have only been to the tower once.

“It’s a-- that sounds good,” you say lightly, shifting away from ‘it’s a date’ language. It feels off to use that phrase when Steve’s involved. “What time?”

Bucky’s sigh tells you his invitation had been impulsive, and he’s annoyed to be asked about logistics. Something about knowing that without being told floods you with affection for him. “Whenever? After four, I guess.”

“Dress code?” you tease.

“Wear clothes, please. My roommate’s dealing with some things and I can’t promise he’ll--”  

You nearly choke on your own spit at his audacity, but the distinct sound of Steve’s voice in the background of the call startles you into sliding your knees up to your chest, awareness prickling all over your body. It suddenly strikes you as maybe inappropriate to hear his voice while you’re in bed, like it’ll screw up Banner’s test results, or something.

The conversation you’d had with Bucky last week about not wanting to ignore the Mistress thing in conversation with each other had clearly prompted his cheeky comment, but it sounds like Steve didn’t appreciate what he’d overheard. Ordinarily you’d call for him through the phone, but that feels possibly inappropriate too. You’re very aware of the open window’s drift of cool morning air on your bare arms, of the way the fabric of your nightgown feels on your naked body underneath. Chances are you’d be activating similar feelings in Steve, too. Just from hearing you.

The power in that knowledge is kind of intoxicating.

You decide to compromise, because the raised male voices on the other line have ceased, replaced with silence. “Bucky?” you hiss-whisper into your phone.

“You didn’t hang up? Give me that!”

Steve’s yell is loud through the phone, and you clamber out of bed, the neckline of your summer nightgown shifting over in the process, exposing your left shoulder.

“Dee?”

It’s Steve. Across from you, your dresser mirror shows a reflection that’s almost more disheveled than the day you’d met the man. The whole situation is so absurd that you actually take a second to hold up your phone and snap a picture, thinking you’ll joke about this someday, when it all blows over.

“Dee??”  

“Shoot, yes, sorry Steve, I’m just--” Mixing that image with the distress/concern in his voice has tuned your mood in a dangerous direction, and your smoky tone of voice is on board. Clearing your throat and avoiding the mirror, you say, “Sorry, go on?” The line is silent for a long few seconds.

There’s no way in hell that calling out his name right now will do him any good whatsoever.

You kind of want to do it, though.

Finally, Steve returns, and he opts for his Captain America voice. “Bucky dropped the phone when I caught him joking about this whole situation. I think the three of us might need to set some boundaries during your visit. He said around four. I’ll see you then.” He hangs up before you can respond.

You’ve been horny all day, but helpless to do anything about it. The problem is, you’ve got Rogers on the brain, and his shift to Cap mode on the phone made crossing the boundary to think of him as Steve feel wrong and uncomfortable. The good news is, your mood worked really well for the songs the band practiced all afternoon. Unfortunately, the heat of the day and the fact that the boiler’s still on in the building had all of you hot and miserable.

It’s 4:17 when you finally get out of there, sweaty blouse stuck to your back. You feel like a wilted flower, so you decide to call up a taxi service to the tower instead of walking.

As you wait for your ride to arrive, you wonder if Steve’s day was similar to yours. The good news for the evening is that the two of you shouldn’t be as keyed up as you were yesterday. Banner’s explanation of his pheromone theory had been confusing and hard to pay attention to with Steve right beside you, but you recall him saying the longer the two of you stay apart, the stronger the compulsion is.

The taxi arrives and you get inside, giving the destination as Avengers tower. Speaking the location aloud brings up something else you’ve been avoiding. Bucky’s ‘someday I’ll introduce you to my best friend Steve, we’ve known each other since he was little’ is a far cry from the reality: ‘my best friend Captain America has been famous for longer than whole generations of your family have been alive.’ 

For the first time, you realize that ‘since he was little’ has a vastly different meaning than the one you’d been assuming. Bucky really is an infuriating, lovable shit sometimes. It’s with that combination of low-level sexual frustration, amused annoyance, and bedraggled appearance that you arrive at the tower. The guy at the security counter calls the apartment with a dubious expression that makes you worried he's judging you, but the man eventually nods and directs you to an elevator.

“He’ll meet you in the hallway,” he says, leaning into the elevator car once you’ve boarded to call out a code phrase to the AI that controls the elevator. The guard gives you one last once-over and adds, “It changes every week,” confirming your suspicion that their floor is restricted.

When the door closes, your imperfect reflection in the silver coating has you scrambling to adjust the moist cling of your blouse on your breasts. Unkempt twists of hair are glued to your cheeks and forehead with perspiration, and you’d completely forgot that for an easy ego boost, you always apply performance-quality red lipstick for final rehearsal.

In short, the security guy had a point.

The doors open before you get a chance for a last once-over after your adjustments. The best you can do is a weird crossed-arms stance with your hands spread wide to obscure just how lovingly your damp red top is cupping your assets.

Thankfully, the man standing in the hallway is Bucky Barnes.

You rush out, dropping your hands to gesture at yourself. “Do you see this? Mirrors and I are enemies today,” you tell him, eyes wide. “I guess I’m lucky the guard downstairs didn’t call the cops instead of the apartment!”

Bucky trails his piercing blue eyes along your outfit, his expression impassive at first. For the first time ever in his presence, you feel a little objectified, but you shake that off. After all, you told him to look-- and given the growing appreciation in his gaze, he’s at least giving you a bit of a self-esteem boost. When Bucky’s finished, having followed through by taking in your pencil skirt and crimson sandals with his head tipped to the side, he finally looks you in the eyes.

“Nice toenail polish,” he smirks.

“I don’t know why I put up with you,” you gripe under your breath. “Please tell me you have a shirt I can borrow? They still have the heat on at the venue, Babs is tearing out her hair. If the forecast is right about how hot it’ll be tomorrow night, we’ll have to hand out free cups of ice to keep an audience.”

“Yeah, but we got a gauntlet to run before that,” he tells you. The apartment door’s open, and he stands to the side, gesturing for you to precede him.

“If it’s related to another set of metal doors and a scary British voice telling me to hide, I’ll just walk home, spring heatwave or not.”

“She’s here?” Steve says from inside. He comes out right as you walk over, and both of you stop within inches of each other. “You’re late,” he says-- but the tone of his voice is the exact same stressed, desperate, needy one you’ve tried not to fondly remember. 

You almost respond with, ‘Oh, Steve, if you’re going for ‘stern,’ be careful, but you can’t imagine saying that in anything other than your flirty lounge singer persona, and that would cross too many lines, especially today.

“I got here as soon as I could!” you tell him, drawing yourself up indignantly. Steve opens his mouth to respond, but his gaze is caught first by your lips, then your shirt. You’re confronted with the effect you have on him-- a short, pained breath leaves his lips when his eyes drop to your chest and then quickly back up.  Steve’s eyes dilate, and his throat works as he swallows, twice. He’s as handsome as anyone you’ve ever met, and you’ve done more than meet. An errant (exciting, ridiculous, improper) thought rises to the surface.

This man is your lover.

You suck in a breath, unable to avoid the flood of heat you’re struck with, and your reaction breaks the spell.

“I thought we agreed on four?” he says plaintively, as though somehow you wouldn’t look like this and he wouldn’t clearly like it as much if you’d only been on time.

“All right, none of this shit needs to happen in the hallway,” Bucky says, shouldering his way past you to spin Steve around with a hand on either shoulder. Embarrassment spurs you to quickly follow, and you shut the door, leaning against it with your arms and hands once again trying to cover your clinging blouse. “You: grab the fliers from the kitchen,” your best friend instructs Steve, shoving him in the right direction. He points at you and jerks his head toward the hallway. “You: follow me.”

“Shirts. Why is it always shirts?” you ask.

“Indiana Jones, right?” Bucky says, walking into the room at the end of the hallway. He whispers something you can’t hear, because you’ve stopped at the threshold. Bucky turns around and frowns at you. “I’m not looking to ramp him up, so will you please come in here?”

He seems pretty stressed, so you swallow your worries about being trapped in yet another room in this particular apartment, and walk in a little ways. It’s not enough for Buck, whose ‘hurry up’ arm gesture doesn’t look very non-threatening with his metal arm.

“What are you--” you begin, but he interrupts from over by the closet, sliding a chunk of wire hangers over with a scrape of protesting metal.

“I said what color… undergarment? So it doesn’t show through.”

“Shit, good point, thanks,” you say, coming over. “It’s red, to match the blouse.”

To your surprise, you can see his ear turn red as Bucky coughs and fiddles with a few hung-up items out of your sight.

“This work?”

He hands you a medium blue button-down, long sleeved. “There’s, uh, a bathroom through there. I can sit on the bed, in case you’re freaked to be stuck again.”

Bucky looks like he’d gladly crawl out of his skin to avoid this entire conversation, but there he is, offering to let you change clothes in his private bathroom while he stays close enough to break you out, if need be. You’d go over and hug him if it wouldn’t make ‘awkward’ into ‘unbearable’ for him.

You nod, rushing into the bathroom to change. There’s a basket with towel rolls you’re certain a housekeeper put there, and you grab one of the washcloths to clean up with before buttoning on the shirt. It’s long, so long you spend most of the time rolling up the sleeves and trying to figure out how to tuck the tails into your skirt without looking dumpy.

Steve’s outward appearance of calm is deceptive, but he can’t risk hinting at the turmoil he’s going through, so he’s trying to focus solely on gathering up the take-out menus.

It’s… not going well.

He’s not good with slow stress. Emergencies, yes. Slow-rolling catastrophes with no clear path for remedy? Not his thing, particularly not when he can’t use his strength, use his hands to make things right.

Steve groans aloud. Everything slants sexual lately. Everything.

Leaving the stack of menus on the counter, he rubs the back of his neck and paces the kitchen. In a way, he’s in an immediate emergency right now, albeit a private one: he’s turned on, has tried to ignore it all day, but then you’d shown up late looking like that. It had taken him back to the weeks of staying away, when he’d woken late at night awash in guilt and arousal after yet another dream of the time together in his bedroom. In most of them, he’d stalked over to the light switch and flipped it on so he could see you, sweat-soaked and needy.

He sticks his head into the sink and uses the sprayer on himself in a vain attempt to cool his ardor. All that does is get water in his ears.

From the other room, Bucky says, “Steve?”

“Hang on,” Steve calls out, blindly grabbing for the dishtowel draped on the oven door. When it doesn’t come right away, he yanks at it-- and the entire door of the oven comes off.

“What the hell?” Bucky’s standing in the doorway, and you’ve crowded in beside him to see what’s going on.

“I’m not sure what happened. I just wanted to grab a towel.” Steve’s shoulders are already soaked from his wet hair, and somehow the cloth in his hand is still connected to the detached door at his feet. At least the tempered glass is still intact.

You squeeze past Bucky and come over, gently freeing the towel from Steve’s hand and crouching down to mess with the underside of the oven door. He closes his eyes tightly and starts focusing on his breathing. It’s all he can do to keep still and hide the effect of seeing you sink down to the floor, but he’d forgotten you’re not the only other person in the apartment.

“Steve.”

Steve’s eyes pop open at the menace in his friend’s tone, but right then, you stand back up, the dish towel in your hand and an amused look of confusion on your face.

“It looks like someone reinforced this crochet clasp with metal thread!”

Both of Bucky’s fists are clenched, and Steve has no idea what you’re talking about. Then he looks over at you.

You’re wearing his shirt. It’s hanging loose, and the hem extends past your hips. It’s so easy to picture what you’d look like wearing it some morning after spending the night.

“I-I need a new shirt,” Steve stammers out. Bucky has just enough time to sidestep out of the doorway, and once through, Steve runs.

He manages not to slam the door, but the way his head clunks back against the wood is probably audible in the kitchen. Pulling in huge breaths, he ignores his wet shirt and starts fumbling at his belt.

It’s wrong, he knows, but the way you look wearing his shirt, seeing you practically kneeling at his feet --Steve can’t hold himself back. He’s been on edge all day, and he’d only understood why when you’d walked back into his home in all your sexy, sweaty glory. Anticipation. Whether or not it ought to have happened, the two of you have a bond, one that includes permission for all sorts of things his mind dwells on at the most inconvenient times.

The door rattles in the jamb as he shoves his trousers and briefs out of the way. There’s no way he wants Bucky to have any idea what’s going on here, so he thumbs on the lock (it’s a fig leaf, but one that might give him a few seconds to hide what he’s about to do, if need be) and fall-walks over to the bed with his pants around his ankles. 

Seconds later, Steve has slicked up his hand, collapsing back onto his pillow with a heartfelt groan that’s as quiet as he can make it. Mistress is ruinous, because this devastating pleasure is almost rewriting his DNA as surely as the serum did. Two months ago he would never have pictured himself doing anything like this, but now he’s fucking his own fist in the same apartment as someone who could be his best friend’s girl.

Steve’s touching himself while he’s thinking about you, and he can’t-- he won’t stop. Indulging in this glorious, delirious pleasure has got to be the lesser of two evils.

Despite that conclusion, guilt wars with lust as his hand speeds up, hoping like hell that he doesn’t make too much noise. It’s maybe better than before the drug, as though his body has been rewired, away from heroism and into hedonism. Every little movement ratchets him further toward ecstasy, so much so that Steve tortures himself with variations; a twist of his hand here and there, thumb swirling the head of his cock. He's got the fleshy part of his palm crammed in his mouth to remind himself to be quiet.  

Just as he wonders how much more he can take himself apart, Steve feels his peak rising, and he’s disappointed, which brings up more guilt. You’re a real person, someone he’s laughed with. Someone he could really like.

The thought occurs that if he’s going to train his aroused brain, guilt is the worst possible catalyst.

Steve forces himself to still, to breathe.

“Change it or stop,” he whispers to himself. “She doesn’t deserve that.”

He casts around in his mind for something different, but stubbornly, not something that would force him to stop. Your body’s sated, exhausted curl on his old bed in the time before the two of you had been rescued. The way your weary, heat-tired expression had combusted into frustration at him in the doorway to his apartment. You, simply wearing his shirt.

You’ve wormed your way into intimacy with him in more ways than Steve had realized, ways he likes.

Need overcomes his willpower, and he gives himself permission for a single gentle stroke. The intense sweetness of it gives him an idea, one he’s entirely certain he might go to hell for.

Steve moves his hand slowly, tentatively, and oh fuck, he could picture you doing this so easily. What would your face look like if you could touch him with ease, with patience, without urgency?  

Ironically, this sends him into a rough, mindless frenzy, the white-hot pleasure reinforced by flashes of you in scenes of a possible future; furrowed brow cooking while you complain about how inconvenient the broken oven is, stepping out of the shower in a ratty old bathrobe, hair wet, your skin freshly scrubbed.

In his mind's eye, you're clasping his hand palm to palm, lifting your head to kiss him as he moves slowly inside you, unhurried, loving.

As his orgasm barrels through him, Steve realizes this is far, far worse for his relationship with Bucky and his fledgling something (friendship? More? Does he deserve more?) with you than simply rutting out his sexual frustration with the entire focus on his filthy, unworthy thoughts about your red blouse.

Next Chapter...