#god this nearly brought tears to my eyes because it hit SO close to home

[bitcoinprophets]

Something Refreshingly Pro-Jesus On Netflix! Jesus Is Calling … on Netflix’s ‘Beef’

Are you hurting and broken within? Overwhelmed by the weight of your sin? Jesus is calling…” I’ve sung these lyrics from “O Come to the Altar” countless times. I’ve heard the song at church, at conferences, in my car … but never did I expect to hear it on a hit Netflix show. It wasn’t just the song. The entire church scene from Beef felt pulled from my life. As the worship band sang, the camera panned through the room to reveal congregants with their eyes closed and hands raised, a sea of black hair swaying in a rhythm that I knew all too well. The sanctuary was well worn and outdated, the kind of space that could easily be converted into a multipurpose room. Mismatched chairs in rows served as pews, and the tilted commercial vertical blinds didn’t really block out the light. The doughnuts after the service were all too familiar. The only way it could’ve been better is if they had eaten rice, kimchi, and bean sprout or radish soup. In the Netflix dark comedy Beef—currently the most popular show on the platform—actor Steven Yeun costars as Danny Cho, a struggling contractor who gets involved in a road rage incident. He’s had a hard life, and in a rock-bottom moment, he walks into a church sanctuary. Danny feels out of place in a room that aesthetically is anything but conducive to worship, yet he gets immersed in the communal praise around him. He cries, and a pastor comes to pray over him. The worship hit especially close to home for me; not only did it remind me of nearly every Korean American immigrant church I attended growing up, but I also used to serve at the Los Angeles church whose band appears in the show. Hearing lyrics about God’s grace extended to us in our brokenness was so familiar that it felt exposing, nostalgic, and even embarrassing at the same time. The experience was so authentic, it almost felt contrived. For many who grew up in the Korean American church—or in Asian American Christian communities whose church experiences were shaped by Korean American Protestantism—the worship scenes from Beef were instantly recognizable and generated a visceral response. And the reactions proved to be a bit of a Rorschach test. For some, the scene evoked fond memories of growing up in the church in the 1970s, ’80s, ’90s, or 2000s. It brought to mind those powerful spiritual moments at church that marked their weeks, months, or even years. It brought them back to a time and space where they felt like they truly belonged—a place of shared culture and shared faith. Viewers who knew these kinds of churches may have longed for the communities they had growing up, imperfect but loving in their fellowship. One Korean American pastor friend shared that it reminded him of the moment he said yes to Jesus in college, even though he grew up as a pastor’s kid. Others saw Danny’s tearful visit to the church more negatively. They remembered the ways they were manipulated by church leaders, disillusioned by a performative spirituality, and hurt by the people they were told to trust. The church sanctuary in Beef took them back to spaces where they were ostracized, exploited, and even abused—toxic and traumatizing places that they have worked hard to escape. One reason the worship scenes felt real to us and could immediately trigger our memories may be that the worship was real. That’s what Citizens LA pastor Jason Min, whose praise band played for the church scenes, shared with me. By Min’s account, they were actually leading worship before the cameras, not performing or pretending to do so. Many of the extras in the congregation came from Citizens LA church, and they worshiped like they do each Sunday morning. I know because they were my worship band when I lived in LA. Their worship in Beef resonated before it even aired. The show has an all-Asian cast, and many of those who were working on the set or in the background commented that the worship set scenes impacted them. Min told me that people at the filming commented on the peace they felt or said that singing the lyrics to “O Come to the Altar” a hundred times did something to them. They shared that they didn’t know whether it meant they would go to church or go back to church but that they would be sitting with what they experienced for some time. Article is finished at its source Read the full article

[lexie-cameron8]

Alright, the one-shot I’ve been trying to finish for days now.

Warning: smut, light choking, cream pie, unprotected sex, oral (male receiving), kinda shit towards the end.

A/n: An AU where Topper’s little sister participated in the TikTok trend, “Calling my brother’s best friend pretty”

Rafe Cameron X Fem!Reader

. . .

Y/n-

You're pretty ;)

Rafe-

What?

Does Top know that you're texting me rn?

No idc and it doesn't matter

because you're pretty

Fuck

Y/n say it again

You're pretty Rafe, so

fucking pretty

Shit, no stop

Make me

FUCK

Screw this shit I'm coming over

You can't

Toppers's home

You should've thought about

that before you texted me

I'm coming over

• • • • • •

After reading that final text message, Y/n felt a rush of butterflies form in her stomach. She'd quickly tossed her phone onto her bed and rushed into the bathroom.

As she turned on the shower and waited for the water to run warm, y/n couldn't stop thinking about Rafe's plans for when he arrived. The plans couldn't be good, especially if he was rushing.

They would be good, but bad at the same time.

Standing in the middle of her closet, y/n stared at the mirror in front of her. She played with the strings on a hoodie that she'd found as she examined her body in the spandex shorts that she wore.

She gave herself a nod and heard a knock on her bedroom door. "Y/n I will kick this door down if you don't open it," Rafe's voice echoed through her ears.

She slowly, but excitedly opened the door revealing a nearly sweaty Rafe. His face was slightly red and he wore a a backwards had that made Y/n weak at the knees.

Without any warning he stepped in, closed the door with his back foot and brought y/n into a rough and needy kiss.

"Are you gonna be a good girl for me?" He questioned in between every turn of their heads during their kiss. Y/n moaned into his mouth as a response.

Rafe had his hands roaming all over her body as the back of Y/n's knees hit the edge of the bed.

Her lips disconnected from his as slow as possible. She tried to make it nearly unbearable for him. She sat on her knees on her mattress with Rafe still standing in front of her. He trailed his fingers to her chin and tilted her head up to look at him.

A soft chuckle escaped his lips as he leaned his head back. The sudden warmth that surrounded the top of his thumb surprised him. Rafe looked back down to find Y/n's tongue swirling around the tip of his thumb.

"Fuck." He mumbled while pulling dow his swim shorts along with his boxers. He removed his hand from her grasp and watched her lick her lips in anticipation.

Y/n watched his erection spring free from his restricting briefs and hit his stomach. She couldn't help but look up at him while she pulled him closer to her by his waist. His length was right in front of her breasts and Rafe didn't know if he could contain himself much longer.

Y/n placed tender kisses on his tip and trailed them down to the base of his length. A soft chuckle rolled of her tongue when she looked up to find Rafe's jaw clenched, he was tired of the teasing. "You're pretty when you look down at me like that." She taunted him with that phrase.

Though it was the reason he was there in the first place, Rafe truly hated how it made him feel. Weak at the knees, butterflies in his stomach. It made him feel soft. "Tsk...tsk" Rafe shook his head slightly and held his length, tapping the tip onto Y/n's lips. "Open up," he teased.

Y/n obliged and took his tip into her mouth. She swirled her tongue to collect any precum that might've leaked. Chuckles left her while she refused to take him any deeper knowing that it nearly killed him.

Rafe tried to keep eye contact with her, but it was nearly impossible. He was overwhelmed with the constant pleasure and anytime that Y/n made any noise it would send vibrations throughout Rafe's body and bring him to pure ecstasy. "C'mon baby, you can go deeper," Rafe cooed with his hands gently pushing y/n's head further down his cock.

She relaxed herself feeling nothing other than the growing heat between her thighs. She loved the way Rafe used her mouth for his pleasure, barley giving a care about her own.

Extremely loud moans escaped his mouth before he finally pulled y/n's head away. "Fuck, look at my pretty girl." Rafe's hand cupped her chin while using his fingers to spread her saliva around her chin. "Letting me use your mouth, god you're so fucking dirty." He crooned.

A soft smile showed in her lips as a tear streamed down her face. Rafe leant down and pursed his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of her left eye. His tongue dragged down her cheek, licking her tears and tasting the salty liquid.

Y/n giggled as Rafe's tongue reached her lips, kissing her with small praises escaping his lips every now and then.

With his muscular body, Rafe pushed her down onto the bed so he was now hovering over her. "I'm gonna fuck you now if that's okay." Y/n placed a kiss on his soft lips and that's all Rafe needed to push into her.

Y/n's eyes widened as a loud moan was silenced when she glued her lips shut. Rafe chuckled with a rough thrust, bottoming out inside of her. Instead of the outcome he expected of blowing Y/n's mind with one thrust, he'd just hit a spot that nearly made him cum right there.

He threw his head back and groaned loudly, but it was quickly muffled with Y/n's hand. She couldn't have Topper know that she had company, especially if it was Rafe.

"If you're not quiet I will tie you up, get myself off and will edge you until it hurts." She threatened, but in some twisted way, Rafe liked it.

His eyes fluttered closed when he started to slowly thrust in an out of her, going his deepest every time. Y/n's arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer. Though she wanted to kiss his lips, she has other plans.

Y/n arched her back just to tease him, her breasts pressing against his chin. Rafe's mouth sucked over her breasts sending her over the edge.

Y/n gripped the bed sheets and Rafe held firm onto her neck just to keep her quiet. The squirming girl underneath him made him feel the need to pull out because he was seconds away from coming.

But, Y/n stopped him by wrapping her legs around his waist. She wanted him, all of him. "Cum inside me Rafe." She whispered, still trying to recover from her intense orgasm.

With her words and the sexy tone, Rafe released his cum into her, connecting his lips to hers once again.

***

Y/n and Rafe stood in front of her bathroom mirror after a long ten minutes of after care. "What the fuck did you do to me?" Y/n laughed at her appearance. Dark hickeys, bruises on her hips, hair messy, saliva still spread over her chin and down to her neck.

“Looks like I did a good job,” Rafe teased, proud of his masterpiece.

Y/n then looked at his appearance. “I didn’t do half bad.” She smiled, admiring the messy hair, nearly faded hand imprints on his neck, and swollen lips.

“Did you say my pretty girl earlier?”

Rafe sucked in a breath. “I didn’t think that you’d remember that.” He chuckled before pressing a kiss on her lips as he stood behind her.

[erodasfishtacos]

Not So Easy

prompt: Harry and Y/N have both had a rough week. Ivy is in the prime of her terrible twos. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

word count: 6.2k

warnings: swearing, smut, a little angst

AN: Fulfilling this request ***. This is part of the CEO!Harry verse. If you enjoy please like, reblog, and come chat with me about it x 

*** <--- click for visuals

-----

It was a gorgeous, cool Saturday evening and Y/N had been cooped up in the house all week due to nasty rainstorms that lasted the whole week. All of Y/N’s friends had canceled plans for one reason or another. Anne came down with flu and couldn’t visit like she was suppose to.

Harry had an extra awful week at work - which was saying something - and hadn’t been able to let it go. The frustration and irritation he usually was good at leaving at the office at the end of the workday hadn’t been happening.

Ivy was in the midst of her terrible twos and quite frankly it was disaster for all of them.

They decided on one of their favorite restaurants about an hour outside of London near the beautiful, green countryside. ***

It was a family-owned Italian establishment with outside seating on the patio. The tables were filled but Harry always managed to squeeze himself into a non-existent reservation with his charm (and wallet).

When they’re escorted onto the deck, Ivy had Harry hitched up on his hip and wriggles her into her wooden high-chair with little difficulty - she had just woken up from a nap and was in a seemingly okay mood.

Y/N notices a few pairs of eyes watching them from the table close to theirs but decided that she was just being paranoid. And if she brought it up to Harry she knows he’d immediately tell them to fuck off and mind their business. 

They get Ivy settled with her favorite little sensory book and her plush baby doll ***, as they look at the menu, “I’m so hungry,” Y/N grumbles, unable to decide what she wants to eat, Ivy literally running her around all day with no time for refueling.

“Me too, y’didn’t let me finish my meal earlier,” Harry murmurs cheekily, looking at his wife over his menu with a raised eyebrow, “Guess I’ll just have to wait for dessert.”

“Baba’s asleep, she was out as soon as her head hit the pillow,” Harry tells his wife, trotting in their bedroom. He’s already stripping the shirt off his head and wriggling his running shorts down his narrow hips.

Y/N’s laying on the bed, too distracted by her romance novel to notice Harry’s actions - well until he yanks at her ankles until her bum skids towards the end of the bed, she lets out a surprise yelp at her husband’s strength.

He plucks the book from her hands and tosses it to the floor with a thump. His hands are hurriedly reaching to pull down her shorts and panties with impatience at having his wife bare before him.

“Someone’s a bit horny,” Y/N teases, raising her hips to let him slide them down before they join the book on the floor. He ducks down to bite at the soft skin of her hip bone, suckling a dark mark there in ownership.

“Have y’seen yourself, pet?” Harry replies lowly, unable to help himself as he dips down and swipes a long, languid lip up her center with no warning. It has her moaning and pushing herself into his mouth.

“We don’t have long, H. Need you in me,” His wife whines, pulling him up by his hair until he’s slipping his tongue right into her mouth, wasting no time to hike her hips up around his waist and pushing in with one strong, directive thrust.

Y/N blushes and darts her eyes back down to the menu, “If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you.”

Harry laughs, eyes wrinkling around the corners, “Y’know even when I’m not good, y’let me.”

It was very very true.

“Oops!” Ivy squeals when her doll falls to the ground. It was one of the new words she’s finally understood in context and it’s unbelievably cute to hear her high, little squeaky voice.

“S’alright, here you go bab,” Harry titters, reaching down to toss it back onto the table for his daughter. She looked so fucking adorable tonight in what Y/N had dressed her in a little Gucci jean jacket with matching jeans. ***

Ivy manages to keep herself pretty occupied until she needs a diaper change. The meals had just arrived, steaming hot and smelling like heaven, but Y/N slings their diaper bag over her shoulder and totes the baby off to the bathroom.

Harry watches them, like the protector he is until they make it to the bathroom safely. He can sense eyes on him (the same group Y/N thought was watching) but unlike his wife, Harry makes eye contact with the table who were staring directly at his wife and then him.

“Can I fuckin’ help you?” Harry asks bluntly, not hesitating to stare down every single person at the table. He didn't want anyone staring at them, staring at Y/N, staring at Ivy. He wanted to enjoy his dinner in peace with his family. He assumed they probably worked for him.

They avert their gaze from the intense man, acting nonchalantly and sipping at their glasses filled with wine as if they weren’t just staring at them. It makes Harry scoff loudly enough so that they can hear it.

When Y/N appears back with Ivy and attempts to plop her back into her seat, her limbs go wiggly and her eyebrow knits with refusal, letting out little kicks, “No mummy, no!”

“Baby, we’ve got to eat now. How ‘bout after we’re done?” Y/N hums in her daughter’s ear, attempting to steady the toddler’s legs to slide into the slots of the chair. 

Y/N knew it was going to be a struggle since Y/N told Ivy she couldn’t have the big stuffed animal that was in the gift shop on the way to the bathroom.

“Mummy! Don’t wanna!” Ivy protests loudly, her face pinched with her terrible twos anger as she squirms and twists in her mother’s grip.

“S’okay, give her to me,” Harry tells his wife, taking Ivy in his lap. She smiles with deep dimples up at her father before going to reach her little fingers into his pasta. “No, Ivy. S’hot, it’s goin’ to burn you.”

Ivy pulls her brows together, decidedly not liking what her dad had to say, because she’s reaching out once again. “Ivy, daddy said ‘no’. Be a good girl and listen.”

“Mine.” Oh god, her favorite word at the moment.

“Ivy Elizabeth, s’not yours. S’daddy’s. Mummy ordered you chicken, which she very nicely cut up for you. You need to eat that, lovie,” Harry uses a bit of a firmer voice with the little girl, pulling her plate of cubed of food over.

“Here, bub,” Y/N takes a small piece, bringing it up to her daughter’s full lips. Only to be met with a hand batting it away until it’s being flung limply to the wood floor with a screech.

“No, want that,” Ivy huffs, once again reaching for her father’s steaming plate. She’s nearly close to getting her finger into the burning sauce so Harry has to scoot his chair out a bit so she can’t reach it anymore.

The parents give each other a knowing look because of what is surely about to come. The baby was struggling with being told ‘no’ as of late, as well as claiming nearly everything as ‘mine’. Tantrums were in their prime right now and they thought the pre-dinner nap would have helped.

Spoiler Alert: It doesn’t.

When Ivy realizes she’s no longer able to reach the food, she furrows her brow and pulls back her little fist, hitting at her father’s shoulder. It wasn’t often she tried to hit, likely because most times it landed her on the step for two minutes, but it’s like she knew they couldn’t do that here.

“Ivy,” Harry takes her small hands between his, “We do not hit, do you understand Daddy? S’not nice. If you can’t behave, you’re not getting ice cream before we go home.”

At that point, the little girl would normally calm down a bit and readjust because she really loved ice cream but it didn’t do anything to quell her anger tonight. She shakes her head, curly hair bouncing, before the tears start rolling.

“Should we just get this to go?” Y/N asks, knowing that the whole restaurant doesn’t want to hear the sobbing baby throwing a fit over not being able to dig her hands into her father’s dinner plate. 

“Probably best,” Harry grunts when Ivy wriggles and twists in her father’s grip with a frustrated whine, “She’s not goin’ to settle.”

“Down, let me down!” Ivy demands against her father’s grip, like she’s the one running the show. 

“Here, give her to me,” Y/N mutters, wrangling the toddler into a tight hold while Harry gets the waiter’s attention to get take away boxes and the check. He’s pulling out his wallet to slide out his black amex and put it on the table.

“Ivy, I’m going to put you down so I can get the diaper bag and your toys. Are you going to stay right next to mummy?” Y/N asks her daughter firmly, making sure her daughter’s little green eyes are meeting hers. 

Ivy nods but as soon as her feet hit the solid ground, she lets out a giggle and dashes from beside her mother. She doesn’t get very far because she’s running straight into the legs of another patron and tumbling on her bum.

She’s not at all hurt but takes it as an advantage to throw herself onto the floor, screaming and tears - the whole dramatic show because she’s not getting her way and well....she’s a two year old - that’s all the reason she needs, right?

Harry’s in full dad mode now, “I’ll get her to the car. Y’got this, love?”

Y/N nods, sighing at the loss of their nice dinner as her daughter has all eyes directed on their family - the last thing she wanted to happen. But she just focuses on shoveling the still hot foot into the plastic containers to take home.

“S’enough of that, Ivy. This isn’t how we act, hmm?” Harry hums, pulling his daughter off the floor and into his arms  - “What’s gotten into you, bug?”

Ivy sniffles, knuckling at her wet eyes,  “Home, daddy.”

“We’re taking you home, don’t you worry,” Harry chuckles, smiling softly when she tucks her head into the crook of his neck, thumb finding her lips. His large palm came to rub at her back and bounce her lightly.

When Y/N finally gets everything together, one of the waitresses - an older woman, stops by the table, “How old is your daughter?”

Y/N smiles, “Just turned two a month ago.”

The grey lady has a kind, knowing grin on her face, “What an age, huh? She looks like a little replica of your husband.”

The girl laughs, they can’t go anywhere without hearing that from someone, “Oh, believe me. They have the same attitude too,” She jokes, slinging the bag over her shoulder.

“I wish you two luck. Two is a very hard age, I have five kids of my own. Just appreciate it, even though the tantrums are a pain in the arse,” She says, patting Y/N on the shoulder before heading back to a table who was waiting on her.

---

Both the parents were frustrated, more so than they usually are with Ivy’s tantrums. They thought she’d simmer down once they’d gotten home but it had just revved up again when she realized she really wasn’t getting any ice cream.

“Shouldn’t have even promised her ice cream in the first place,” Y/N mutters with frustration as they stand near the staircase. Ivy sat on the step for two minutes in timeout, kicking her little feet against the marble.

“Right, because I knew she’d decide to have tantrums all night,” Harry shoots back, matching his wife’s tone. The screaming was echoing through the house, high-pitched and it just made you want to cover your ears from it.

Y/N rolls his eyes at him, motioning towards their daughter, “Well, this is your doing because you reminded her that she wasn’t getting it. You deal with it, I’m going to shower.”

“You’re not doing much to help anyways,” Harry hisses, their voices both low so that their daughter doesn’t hear - not like she would over the screaming match she’s having with herself. 

They rarely fought to be honest. This wasn’t even a fight - really. It was hard raising a two year old and they were learning as they went along. The couple was good at communication and working through their problems most of the time.

“I’m not doing much to help?” Y/N asks in disbelief, “Then if I’m no help at all, why don’t you put her down for bed? You don’t need me, obviously.”

Harry narrows his eyes at her, his hand gripping the railing with a hard grip, “Don’t go twistin’ my words, that’s not what I said. Now you’re just lookin’ for a fight.”

“Yeah, because on top of a fussy two year old - I want to deal with a childish husband. I’m surprised you're not on the stairs, cryin’ about ice cream too with how you’re acting,” Y/N laughs - the sound crawling under Harry’s skin with irritation at her fake carefree attitude when she’s just as annoyed as him.

“You’re being an even bigger brat than our daughter right now,” Harry tells her, trying to keep his voice at a low volume but it comes out louder than intended. He felt himself straighten up and kept direct eye contact with his wife.

Y/N’s lips form into a tight line before gritting out, “Do not raise your voice at me. We agreed that no matter how frustrated we got we wouldn’t do that in front of our daughter.”

“Then don’t act so immature, ever think of tha’?” Harry bites, hating the he hears his work voice being directed at his wife when he never wants that. 

“How am I being immature? You promised her something that she didn’t get, then reminded her that she’s not getting it. I’m allowed to be frustrated with you!” Y/N whisper-shouts, Ivy is now distracted by taking her little shoes off and watching them tumble down the stairs.

“I have so many better things I could be doing right now than stand here and fight with you over our daughter having a stupid tantrum. I’ll be in my office,” Harry replies, because when he doesn’t know what to do and refuses to admit he’s wrong - he falls back to his best excuse, work.

And he automatically regrets it when he sees a flash of hurt cross his wife’s face. Harry wants to swallow back those words and wrap his wife up into a hug. Never wanting to make her feel like his work is worth more of his time.

Deep down, they both know she knows that it’s not the truth but in the midst of the fight it doesn’t sting any less. He opens his mouth to apologize, to tell her that he’d rather put their daughter to bed together any night than be in his office.

But he can tell she’s already past the point of being pissed when she replies calmly, “I’ll put our baby to bed. Go work on whatever is more important than us, Mr. Styles.”

Harry wants to reach out and grab at her arm, tug her into his chest, and murmur in her hair how much he loves her more than anything. He said that because he knows it’s hurtful and it’s his only way to win an argument with her.

However, she’s moving up the stairs, scooping the somewhat calmed down baby into her arms and trudging up  without another look at her still brooding husband.

Harry hears Ivy shout back down the stairs, “Daddy, come on!” 

He hears his wife tell his daughter, “Daddy’s too busy with work, Ivy. S’just mummy.”

But that has Harry absolutely fuming, storming up the stairs after then, “Do not make it seem like I’m ever too busy for my daughter. That’s completely uncalled for, Y/N.”

Y/N doesn’t turn back to face him, instead keeps walking, and says with a monotone voice, “Oh, but you just said you had better things to be doing than dealing with your family. So go take care of your work, hot shot. I’ll take care of our daughter.”

“Why are you making it seem like I put my work before Ivy? I’ve literally never let that happen and you know that. You’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion because Ivy’s been having tantrums and you can’t put on your big girl pants and deal with them.”

That’s when Y/N spins around on her heel, letting Ivy down and encouraging her to go play in her room for a little before bedtime. Her face is turning red - which rarely happens unless they’re really about to get in an argument. 

“Big girl pants? Really, I’m at home dealing with her tantrums twenty-four seven. You get to come home from work and only deal with it half on the time. Do not act like you know how stressful it is to stay at home with a toddler in their terrible twos all day.”

“Do not act like it’s harder than running a multi-billion pound business,” Harry scoffs, his voice becoming lower with frustration with an argument that was going nowhere. He had a cocky lift to his voice that made her want to scream.

“Oh, because it’s so difficult half the time?  Last week, you got to go on your private jet to Paris for three days for business aka dinner and golfing while I sat at home alone!” Y/N raises her voice, angry tears forming over her lids.

“Sat in our 35 million pound house with a pool, playground, plenty of shops in town, unlimited money doesn’t sound like a hardship, love,” Harry replies, jaw clenching but his fingers itching to brush the tears away.

“You know what? It’s Sunday tomorrow. I’m going out. You watch her for the whole fucking day and see how easy it is. For now, enjoy the guest room,” Y/N spits out, storming down the hall to Ivy’s room to get her ready for bed.

“With pleasure,” He tells her, retreating back into his office and slamming the door. He wasn’t a fucking inadequate father. 

He never put work before his family. He knew it wasn’t easy being at home and as soon as he sat his arse in his leather chair - he realized what a douchebag he was being to his stressed out wife. 

Harry didn’t want to sleep in the guest room, he wanted to be spooned up next to his wife, whispering apologies for letting the stress of the week get to him. Remind her what an amazing partner and mum she is to him. How lucky he is.

The issue was - Harry had pride issues. He wasn’t one to admit defeat even when he should. He thrived on challenges so he was eager to show his wife that he’d have no problem taking on his terrible twos daughter.

He sneaks into his daughter’s room after she’s fast asleep in her crib, checking on her to make sure she’s okay before hesitantly entering their bedroom where his wife is fast asleep but a pile of clean clothes for him on the floor tells him she was serious about him sleeping in the guest room.

It was torture, not being able to be in the same bed as his wife. The love of his life. He thought about it multiple times - going in and groveling but his stubborn brain wouldn’t allow it. After such a long week, he was looking forward to sleeping in and his head hit the pillow in no time.

--

“Rise and shine,” His wife's voice wakes him up, it wasn’t with her normally cheery tone but with the same irritation as the night before. She definitely hadn’t magically forgiven him yet - dammit. Her voice is nearly drowned out by a fussy curly-haired baby.

“Wha’s wrong?” Harry grunts, sitting up to see Ivy still in her pajamas with sheet wrinkles across her face. Skin pink and warm from her nice, peaceful sleep. 

However, she decided to wake up today with a massive chip on her shoulder.

“Ivy’s upset because she can’t find her ballerina doll,” Y/N replies.

 Harry notices she is already fully dressed *** and made up for the day. “Might want to get up and help her find it. I’m heading out  like we agreed on.”

“Fine,” Harry replies with a tight lip, rubbing his eyes as he’s still half asleep. “Y’look pretty.”

“Thanks,” Y/N replies nonchalantly, leaning over to kiss Ivy on the forehead, “I’ll see you later bug, I love you.”

Ivy looks at her mother in betrayal as she leaves Harry to manage their little ball of fury. He tries to tug her in for a big, warm hug but she shrieks and screams at her father, “Ballerina!”

“Ssh, okay. We’ll go look for y’ballerina, dove. No need to yell, s’too early,” Harry grumbles, sitting up and automatically being pulled by the hand off the bed to search for this doll that could be anywhere in this thousands upon thousands of square foot home.

After extensive searches, Harry realizes that he’d left it on the roof of the car when he was tucking her into her carseat last night. The cute little plush doll is now mostly likely roadkill on the country stretch.

“Ivy, y’literally got a whole room dedicated to stuffed animals and dolls. Let’s go pick somethin’ from there, yes?” Harry tries, his daughter’s arms crossed and glaring at Harry like he had just killed her hopes and dreams.

“No! No!” The toddler absolutely wails, plopping her little diaper-clad bum on the ground before kicking her feet against the marble. She had herself worked up until her cheeks were cherry red and tears were staining her shirt.

Harry couldn’t lie - he’d only been watching her for about two hours and he was starting to feel anxiety creep up in his throat over what to do. It wasn’t that he couldn’t parent her, but it was a lot of crying and he hated seeing her upset.

“Why don’t we go eat some breakfast? Does that sound good, lovie?” Harry offers hopefully, having to contain a laugh at how much she looks like him when he’s angry. The little crease between her eyes, the green in her eyes sparkling a little darker than usual.

Her eyes peek up at her father, “Yes, Daddy.”

Harry sighs in relief, scrubbing at hand down his face, taking her into the kitchen, strapping her in the highchair before whipping up some cheesy eggs for her.

When he puts down the plate in front of her, he has to say she’s surprised when she slaps it off the tray and onto the floor, spilling everywhere. “No, want mummy’s breakfast.”

Her father looks at her with a comically bewildered expression before turning on his dad voice, “We do not throw things on the ground. Do you understand me, Ivy Elizabeth?”

Her full little lips are drawn into a tight pout as she tosses her baby fork on the ground to join the still warm eggs in a heap.  

“Mummy’s breakfast.”

The scolding goes in one ear and out the other, she doesn’t acknowledge her father but continues on her demands.

He caves after trying to no avail to decipher what ‘mummy’s breakfast’ means.

Ivy threw her eggs on the ground. She’s demanding mummy’s breakfast.

She’s hated eggs for the past two weeks now. Vanilla yogurt with diced strawberries and blueberries in her red baby bowl.

He does as she says, arranges a nice little bowl of yogurt with the fruit. He couldn’t find the red bowl so he substituted for a blue one. 

It results in the yogurt also being smacked to the ground. 

She threw that on the ground too.

Did you put it in a red bowl?

I couldn’t find it, just put it in a blue bowl

She only wants to eat breakfast out of red bowls right now

Harry groans, he didn’t know his daughter was this difficult about breakfast time. He was usually gone by the time she’d woken up for the day. Y/N usually let him sleep in a bit on the weekends until ten or so.

After digging for the specific red bowl, doing up her breakfast again - Ivy happily begins eating until it drips down her sleep clothes, rubbed all over her cheeks, and it even manages up in her tangled locks.

“S’that just so yummy, Vee?” Harry hums after she’s finished. “Looks like it’s bath time.”

He really should have guessed at this point when she shakes her head and squeaks, “No!”

“Yes, s’bathtime,” Harry says sternly, traipsing upstairs with the wriggling toddler who is doing everything in her power to fight against her father’s hold. 

“No, no, no. Ballerina,” Ivy brings it up again, making it a near impossible task for Harry to wrangle her out of her clothes and diaper. 

While he’s running the bath, she darts from the bathroom and through the hallways, right towards the grand staircase where the baby gate isn’t closed. Harry really really didn’t want to yell at his daughter but she could seriously get hurt.

“Ivy Elizabeth Styles, if you don’t get your little bum over to Daddy right now, you’re going on the step and y’not having playtime at all,” Harry orders loudly, but breathing a sigh of relief when his daughter skids in her tracks to a halt.

The little girl turns on her heels, eyes wide in fright at her dad’s raised voice - which rarely ever happened unless she really wasn’t listening. She begins to cry but not in her now typical anger-induced haze but in a legitimate sad wail.

His heart aches as his daughter toddles obediently back over to him with her little head hung low in regret, “Daddy, hold me?”

Harry can’t deny her so he scoops her up into the crook of his arm, “M’sorry for yellin’, bug. But y’need to be good for Daddy? You could have gotten really hurt and that would have made Daddy sad, okay?”

Her eyes are watery as she looks up at him, her hand curling around his neck before burying her still yogurt-sticky face into his skin, hiccuping with sad whines, “Sad Daddy.”

“Mhm, now are you going to be nice and get a bath f’me? Y’dirty, bubby,” Harry smiles down at her to brighten back up her mood and it works because her dimples pop out of her cheeks and she flashes her small blocky baby teeth.

Ivy surprisingly does well in the bathtub, allowing her father to get her all cleaned up until she accidentally opens her eyes and gets baby soap in them, it’s another round of tears that cannot be controlled.

Harry totes the sobbing toddler into a cute little Moschino onesie and brings her into their bedroom. He’s so fucking exhausted and it was barely noon. His stress level was near a hundred as he couldn’t keep her from being pissed off for more than twenty minutes at a time.

Luckily, it seems like the screaming and crying for the last how many hours had taken a toll on her because as soon as she sprawled on her stomach on Harry’s chest, she’s out like a light. The cutest small snores coming from her as she smacks her lips together while she dreams.

He gives her a few minutes to fall into a deeper sleep before tiptoeing her into her nursery and laying her very carefully into her crib. She doesn’t wake, just whimpers softly and turns on her side, away from her father.

When he’s sure she’ll be okay, he goes back into their bedroom, and well...he just breathes. He didn’t realize how high his anxiety had been up to this point and his whole morning had been nothing but trying to get his daughter calm. He didn’t even have one moment to think about himself.

It really wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate Y/N being a stay at home mum - of course, he did. He already knew how bloody amazing and strong she was as a person, he didn’t need this to prove what he already knew. It was his stubbornness to not decline a challenge and they both knew that was the case.

Y/N really didn’t think that Harry doubted her abilities. He nearly spent most of his days telling her how proud he was of her and her abilities as a partner and mum. It doesn’t mean it didn’t sting when he brought up his job compared to hers.

Harry’s in his own world of thoughts that he doesn’t notice a figure leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, “You got everything under control, H?”

His eyes darted up to meet his wife’s, “Not really. She’s a little terror,” He jokes (kind of).

“It’s easy compared to your job, right?” Y/N asks but it’s obviously rhetorical. She drops a few shopping bags on the floor before leaning down to unstrap her high heels, kicking them off along with throwing off the blazer to the floor.

“I never said your job was easy. Y’puttin’ words in my mouth,” Harry argues, sitting up straight and moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“No, you’re right. It’s just not as hard as your job,” Y/N huffs, unbuttoning the tight jeans and shucking them off her thighs. She didn’t have any idea what she was doing to him right now, his mouth nearly watering when her thighs jiggle a bit.

“You’re right, it’s not as hard as my job,” Harry replies, studying his wife’s face when she looks up in surprise - that he was really going to take the fight that far.

“Wow, you re-”

“It’s not as hard as my job, it’s harder,” Harry murmurs, reaching out to pull his wife to stand between his legs, her looking down at him with her hands on his shoulders. “

What I’m doin’ is nothin’ compared to your job. Y’raising our little baby, shaping her into a good person, spending every moment of y’day with her, giving up a lot of who you are for her. That’s more difficult than what I do any day.”

“Har-”

“M’sorry, lovie. Y’know I think you’re the most amazing mum and wife. You do everything for the baba and I. I shouldn’t have taken my anger from my week out on you yesterday and then said the things that I did,” Harry apologizes, his face sincere and open as he leans forward to nuzzle at his wife’s stomach.

When her hands come to run through his unruly locks, he knows he’s forgiven, “I appreciate how hard you work too. I really do, H. You’re the best husband and daddy to Ivy we could ask for. I’m sorry I took my frustration out on you as well.”

“Do you ever feel like I put work before you or Ivy?” Harry asks softly against her thin tank top, his hands come to massage at her full hips. There was a hint of insecurity in his tone that made Y/N’s heart sink a bit.

“No, I really don’t. I was just...I was just upset and I knew that would upset you. I’m sorry, baby,” Y/N murmurs softly, leaning down to kiss at the top of his head.

“Y’going to let me show you how sorry I am, how good of a wife and mum you are?” Harry drawls, his hands going to tug up the fabric of her top and humming appreciatively when she lifts her arms to let him do so.

“Yeah, remind why I married your crabby ass,” Y/N teases playfully, reaching behind herself to let her bra fall down to the crooks of her elbows before tossing it to the floor with everything else. As she’s doing that, Harry takes it upon himself to shimmy off her panties.

“Y’sayin’ you just married me ‘cause I fuck you good?” Harry grunts, standing up suddenly and pulling her up into his arms until her legs are wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck.

“Mmm, mostly. Also for your bank account was pretty good-looking too,” She lies blatantly but he still rewards her with a bruising kiss to her lips as he backs her against the wall so he can use one hand to tug down his running shorts.

“I’d still have married you, best decision I’ve ever made,” Harry says, sobering up from their playfulness. He slows down to be careful as he slides up into her warm heat, her head falling back with a thud against the wall.

“Harry,” She moans approvingly, heels of her feet digging into his backside to goad him into moving faster, “Right there.”

“So bloody in love with you. Please tell me y’know that baby, c’mon, tell me,” Harry begs, leaning down to smear kisses against her collarbone.

“I know, H. You’re so good to me, I love you,” Y/N whines and Harry knows that whine like the back of his hand, she needs more. He reaches down to rub tight, rough circles against her swollen bud until she’s tensing and coming.

“You feel so good, every single time. Don’t know how you do it, s’like you were made just for me,” Harry chokes out, stuttering and coming with his lips suckling a deep spot onto her breast as he rides it out.

After they redress and are cuddled on the bed, murmuring sweet little apologizes and affirmations of love, they interrupted by an angry squeak from the baby monitor - signaling their daughter’s woken up.

“Ballerina!”

hope you enjoyed. please inbox me what you think, like, reblog.

[just-my-fandom]

Heartache (Shouta Aizawa x Pro-Hero! Reader)

A/N: Ooo-kay, finally back from my month long, needed break from writing. I’m kinda attached to MHA at the moment, so that is what I am taking requests for.

Summary; The two times where two of UAs teachers nearly lose their lives to protect their students, mindful of the child they have at home.

Request; Can we have some pro hero love where reader (pro hero) and Mr. Aizawa have a daughter and Thirteen who is readers best friend is said daughters god mom while Present Mic is the god dad plz

Akari- Japanese name meaning “Light”. Readers quirk is the ability to send large waves of energy a selective distance, and shield herself with said energy.

Two months prior- U.A.

“Alright, everyone,”

Shouta Aizawa seemed well too calm this early morning. Too calm despite the fact that he is holding a child on his hip, who looked all too like him.

“Today’s lesson is simple. Based on communication,” He starts, “Communication when it comes to citizens. This lesson will teach you how to comfort an injured or scared citizen during an attack, specifically women and children,”

“Uh, Mr. Aizawa?” Denki Kaminari was first to speak up, hand half raised in confusion, “Why do you have a baby?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Mina leans forward, eyes wide and gleaming happily, “That’s Mr. Aizawas and Neutron Shields baby! She looks just like him,”

“Lets not jump to conclusions,” Shouta hums, but the barely visible smirk on his lips lets his class know that the toddler is, indeed, his own, “I brought Akari here today for the lesson that will be taught. You will all need to learn and know how to comfort a child during an attack if the child has been separated from its parents,”

“Only, however,” Shoutas eyebrow raise causes his students to watch as his daughter leaned against his shoulder and glanced outward to the class, “Akari does have a quirk. It is similar to her mother’s, as Mina predicted, Neutron Shields. Meaning if she were to get defensive, you would have to calm the child from harming herself more, or you,”

“So we’re fighting a little brat,” Bakugou mumbles, rolling his eyes so when he looked back up to his teacher, said mans hair had raised and his eyes glowed red,

“Insult my daughter again,” Shouta threatens, instantly dropping his intimidating act when Akaris hand reaches up to pat his face. With a deep sigh, Shouta looks away from his daughter to his students, “No. Youre not fighting her. Simply consult her into comfort so she knows you’re not a threat. Akaris been taught how to control her quirk on demand,”

Lowering the toddler onto the floor, Shouta steps back as soon as his daughter began to tear up, twisting to reach for her father with quiet sniffles.

“Well?” Shouta eyes the students, when Akari hiccups and looks back to the teenagers, “She’s distressed,”

“I got this,” Kirishima is first to push out of his desk, hands out and steps slow as he approached the child, “Hey, Akari, it’s okay,”

Akari is swift to shake her head and twist her upper body away from the red head. On cue, a purple bubble surrounds herself, Bakugous brows pinching as Dekis mouth dropped, hand reaching over to pat Todorokis shoulder in amazement.

The bubble then expands to hit Kirishima and throw him off his feet, landing hard on his back so Akari blinked and giggled, loudly, the bubble then vanishing.

“Me next!” Mina exclaims, Akaris eyes flicking from the red head and to the pink skinned girl, who knelt down next to Kirishima and opened-closed her hands.

Hesitantly, Akami leant forward onto her hands and knees, ready to crawl up to the girl, but instead blinked so a bubble formed around Mina, the bubble suddenly shrinking so Mina shrieked and pressed her hands to the sides in an attempt to stop the shied like bubble from crushing her.

“Akari,” Shouta speaks up, his daughter blinking so the bubble vanished, her eyes shifting to her father before looking back to the class, Mina exhaling in relief and backing away.

“Come on, shit for brains,” Bakugou scoffs, standing to his feet so Akari stared at him, “We’ve trained with Neutron Shield before. The brats no different,”

“Akari is a child,” Todoroki reminds, on his own feet and stepping forward so Akari instantly reached up, the fire and ice powered male pausing to stare at her.

Her whine when he makes no move to pick her up causes him to do so, Shouta smirking as Akari stared at Bakugou and stuck her thumb into her mouth.

“It seems she has a favorite,”

USJ Training Facility

You weren’t sure what happened. As soon as you were in line of view, two of Shoutas students- Uraraka and Ashido- immediately began to panic from where they knelt down next to Thirteens collapsed figure.

“Mrs. Aizawa!” Mina cries, tears in her eyes as her hand rests on Thirteens shoulder, “Thirteen- she took a hit-!”

You are quick to move next to Ochaco, hand opposite of Minas so Thirteens head turned and her eyes weakly looked up at you,

“Thirteen,” You call, softly, “Hey. It’s okay,”

“I tried to protect them,” Thirteen murmurs, and you nod, sliding your arms beneath hers to heave her to her feet, Mina and Ochaco quick to stick their hands out in case she fell,

“You did,” You promise, “You did amazing, Thirteen,” Your eyes flick to the class, “Where’s Iida?”

“Getting help,” Mina heaves, shakily, “What- what’s going to happen to Thirteen?”

“Shes going to be okay,” You reassure, and shift Thirteens arm around your shoulders so she fell slump against your side, “I’m going to make sure of that,” Your eyes shift to your best friend, “Do you hear me, Thirteen? Akari needs her godmother in her life,”

“I’ll always be here for that angel,” Thirteen breathily laughs, watching as you looked over in alarm at the sounds of fighting, “Eraserhead. He stayed behind,”

“He can hold his own,” You murmur, but the doubt in your tone causes Thirteen to grasp the back of your suit,

“Go help him,” Thirteen demands, extending her free hand for Mina to drape at her shoulders, “I’ll be fine,”

You hesitantly peel away from the pro-hero, glancing between her and where the fighting could be heard, before you sprint down the steps, looking up in time to see Noumu, Shigarakis weapon, on top of your collapsed husband.

“Hey!” You call, raising your hands so a bubble surrounded you, expanding in a rush to hit Noumu so he stumbled off his feet, a good distance away from Shoutas figure.

Protect him. Protect him now.

With quick steps, you throw out a hand that forms a bright (Favorite/Color) bubble, which you slide under and next to Shoutas collapsed form so the bubble shielded both you and him.

“I always wondered when I would get to fight the famous Eraserhead and Neutron Shield at once,” Shigaraki speaks, your eyes shifting over your shoulder where he stood at one end of your bubble, while Noumu stood opposite of his leader,

“But defeating them both?” Shigaraki chuckles, “A dream come true,”

The first punch Noumu sends against your bubble creates severe damage to your shield. It cracks beneath his fist, giving the monster the confidence he needs to continue punching and clawing at the barrier,

“Mrs. Aizawa can’t take them both- not on her own,” Midoryia heaves from his spot in the water, where he, Mineta, and Asui hid a good distance from the battle.

“She has shields!” Mineta reminds, shivering in a panic, “She’ll be fine!”

“Ribbit, her bubble can only take a certain amount of damage before it breaks,” Asui states, “And the damage her shields take, her body takes,”

Where’s All Might when you need him?

With a weak breath, you slide your hand beneath Shoutas head, resting it in your lap as your muscles screamed for you to drop your shields.

“Honey,” You call, pleadingly, free hand resting over Shoutas chest- thankful to feel a heartbeat, “Baby, wake up. Please,”

Looking up, you watch as the top of your bubble cracks and shrivels in defeat, Noumu stepping back enough for the shield to drop and leave not only you, but now Shouta, vulnerable.

With a startled gasp, you raise your hand as Noumu then lunged at you, the shield only protecting your face, so the punch Noumu sends forces you feet back, tumbling backwards and onto your front, leaving Shouta out in the open yet again.

Fingernails grabbing at dirt, you moan out in pain, forcing your arms to push you to sit up, raising your head in time for Noumus claws to latch at your shoulders, shoving you onto your back, his weight forcing you to gasp for air at the pressure of him on your chest,

Raising a hand that clawed at his arm, you are quick to throw a shied, the edge slicing Noumus face so he only jerked back then growled down at you.

With wide eyes, you look over to Shoutas form, then up, at a distanced- “I am here!”

Noumus weight lifts as he departs, your lungs expanding as you gasped, coughing as you sit up, slowly moving up to Shoutas form.

“Help me get him up,” You demand, when Tsuyu and Mineta rush next to you, “Please,”

“Mrs. Aizawa- you’re bleeding!” Mineta stammers, your hand raising to your mouth where blood dripped.

Shaking your head, you allow All Might to take your hand and help you stand, “I’m not worried about me. Get him out of here,”

Camp Attack

Why were you struggling so hard to fight a girl with a knife? Maybe it was because you just couldn’t stomach the thought that your students- your husband were still somewhere in these woods, being attacked by someone else.

Your breaths are shallow by the time you pull yourself from your thoughts. With a hand grasping Togas wrist that held the knife, your eyes wildly search behind you, landing on two of your students,

“Asui, Uraraka, go,” You heave, grunting when Toga shoves at your front, “Go, now!”

Uraraka gasps in fear when Togas foot skillfully hooks around your ankle, jerking so you fell on your back with a pained grunt. Toga is quick to pin over top of you, knife held against the skin of your neck.

“Aren’t you supposed to be a pro-hero?” Toga grins, voice high as you narrow your eyes and suck in a deep breath through the nose, “You’ve gotten weak after having that stupid baby of yours,”

“Do not ever mention my child,” You heave, raising a hand so a shield formed, that instantly vanished when Togas knife slid across your neck, startling you to gasp in quick breaths,

“Mrs. Aizawa!” The two students shriek, your eyes pinching shut as you form a small bubble around you, successfully pushing Toga off of you so you could sit up and cough, hand covered in dark red blood.

You look over and form a bubble around Asui and Uraraka, looking back up at Toga when she giggles, dragging the blood covered knife across the bubble,

“You think a small bubble can stop me from getting what I want?” With a quick jab, the knife plunges into the bubble so you flinched and raised a hand to your neck.

Vision blurry, you blink, the bubble shattering so Toga giggled and lunges forward, not before a tongue shoots out and wraps around her, tossing her to the side and into a tree nearby,

“Mrs. Aizawa!” Uraraka quickly moves next to you, eyes wide as she watches you slowly lower back onto the dirt in defeat, “Mrs. Aizawa, stay awake!” Uraraka looks to Asui, alarmed to find Toga gone, “Tsu, go get help!”

“Uraraka, Asui!” The two girls look over, to find a group- consisting of Midoryia, Todoroki, Bakugou, Shoji, and Tokoyami- rushing towards them, “Come on! We’re heading back to the Camp!”

“Our pace will be slower with two injuries,” Todoroki states, eyes flicking to Midoryia on Shojis back, before he moves to help lift you up, your arms around his and Urarakas shoulders, “We need to find Mr. Aizawa, first and foremost,”

“They said we can use our powers to defend ourselves, and now we have two injured, one being a teacher,” Shoji states, “So don’t let anyone stop you,”

Present

“You shouldn’t be moving around so much,”

You hum through a light laugh, lifting your head from where you rocked back and forth on your feet, your daughter curled against you.

“I’m not dying, Shouta. I’ll be fine,” You feel Akaris hand graze across the stitches at your neck, as you turn to face your husband.

“That’s nothing to joke about,” Shouta steps up, sliding his hands under Akaris arms to peel her away from you and against his own shoulder,

“Just thought I’d give a little pay back for the heart attack you gave me during the USJ incident,” You shrug, frowning at Shoutas glare, “Okay. Sorry. But honestly, honey, I’m okay. Recovery Girl said I should be fully healed by next week,”

“Until then you should be resting,” You roll your eyes at Shoutas statement, turning to then pluck a shirt from your pile of laundry to fold,

“Take your own advance, honey. You haven’t slept a full night in three weeks,” You turn, hand at your hip, “Why don’t we call Hizashi and let him take Akari for a day or two? Give us time to rest?”

“If you want another kid, just ask,” Shouta smirks, your lips parting as he moves around you, laying Akari in her own bed in the corner,

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,”

“Do I, though?” Shoutas hands rest at your hips, and you smile, hand at his jaw to pull his lips against yours.

“Seriously, though,” You hum, “Hizashi would love to see his god daughter. I promised Thirteen I’d help her with her own recovery,”

“I swear you love Thirteen more than me,”

“Oh, definitely. No questions asked,”

“Fine, go ask her for another kid,”

“Nah, I like my kids to have your attitude,”

“Oh, sure,”

“Really!”

[raphael-simp]

Two Years Ago - Raph x Reader

You never liked talking much.

Never really knew why, you just didn't. Of course, you would still carry a conversation to be polite, but the answers were short and spoken barely above a whisper. There were many times where you tried to change this about yourself, but the attempt didn't last for more than five minutes before you shrunk back into yourself again.

Then how the hell were you friends with four, loud and rowdy mutant teenage boys?

You didn't even know the answer to that one.

And to be honest, the memory of how you met the four of them was still slightly hazy. Of course, Donnie told you what had happened to you, but you personally didn't believe it. Why would robot alien beings want to kidnap a random girl walking home from her night shift? It still didn't make sense to you, nearly two whole years after it happened.

You were fourteen going on fifteen when you first met the four.

You worked at the convenience store not even two blocks from your apartment building, and you had switched shifts with your co-worker Abbigail so she could attend a funeral, which meant you now had the night shift.

It wasn't that big of a deal to you; she asked, you agreed, nothing more was said on the matter.

You texted your parents to inform them of the shift change and told them not to wait up for you, which they obviously denied much to your annoyance.

The shift ended at ten o'clock, but you still needed to do till and make sure the money count on the register matched with what you'd counted. That process alone took you about half an hour, so you really didn't leave until ten thirty. You made sure you switched off all the lights and locked all the entrances before you put the store keys in your jacket pocket and began your short walk home.

It was nearing winter, so the weather was beginning to turn cold, and you weren't exactly the best at dealing with temperature drops. You stood tensed as you speed walked towards your apartment building, wanting to get out of the darkness as fast as you could. There was one building near the end of the street that you almost always completely ran past; a run down looking, white parking garage with the paint peeling and chipping everywhere. It creeped you the hell out, mostly because there were always these two guys that stood at the old entrance, their stare boring into your back as you'd run past. Every day you expected them to run after you or shoot at you, but they never did anything.

Until tonight.

When you looked you didn't see them anywhere, and although you thought it would soothe you, it just made you more anxious.

'Where are they...?' You thought to yourself, nervously glancing around, trying to find the two.

Let's just say you didn't have too look far.

A large white van came screeching around the corner, running over the curb and nearly into you before it lurched to a halt. The back doors flew open and three identical looking men filed out and made their way towards you. In fact, they looked like the men that would always watch you at the entrance to the parking garage...

You literally froze. You didn't scream, move or look away until one picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. After that, you screamed absolute bloody murder, praying you'd get the attention of someone- anyone -that could do something to help you. Thankfully, help came rather quickly, just not in the way you thought.

You fought as hard as you could to at least get the man to slightly falter his grip around you; you punched, kicked, pounded- you even bit him, but it hurt you more than him.

You flailed like a fish out of water and kept screaming, even louder if possible as you got carried closer and closer to the back of the van.

Your voice was cut off when you landed harshly on the ground, trying to use your hands to catch yourself but only hurting yourself even more. You were a shaking mess, trying so hard not to cry but suspectingly failing, bursting into tears and sitting down properly, hugging your knees tightly to your chest as you cried into them. You were absolutely terrified out of your skull.

When someone tried to touch you, you screamed again, though it came out more as a strangled cry than anything else. You'd hurt your throat badly from all of your screaming and had no doubt lost your voice because of so.

"Well we can't just leave her crying in the streets, dudes. We gotta do something!"

You heard hushed voices talking a bit in front of you, but didn't bother to look up or fight. You wouldn't do that unless they actually did something, and that was what you were waiting for.

You cried to yourself, waiting to either calm down or for whoever was in front of you to do... whatever.

But they never did anything, they were quiet for the forty five minutes you were crying and calming yourself down.

"You're gonna be okay, alright?"

You slightly looked up from your knees, and honestly at this point, four giant turtles standing in front of you didn't phase you right now.

One of them was kneeling in front of you, it was wearing a tattered red mask and looking directly at you, with electrifying green eyes.

It looked up at one of the others, but you didn't bother to follow his gaze, your eyes were too tired.

"Don, do you need t' look at 'er?"

"I don't see anything major wrong with her, I think it's just shock right now... to be safe I wanna take a look at her, if she'll let us of course."

It looked back at you, the one with the red mask, and you did your best to keep your eyes open and listen to what he had to say. You were just so tired...

"My brother wants t' take a look at 'cha t' make sure ya weren't hurt too bad durin' that whole thing, okay? You alright with that?"

You barely nodded your head and lied it on your knees, involuntarily passing out.

When you woke up after that, you started freaking out and tried to scream, but found you barely had a voice. You were achy and sore all over and you could barely remember why.

Of course, you properly freaked out when you saw the four turtle figures again, but the ones in red and purple- who were the only ones in the room with you at the time- explained everything that had happened.

Donnie had picked up radio chatter that the Kraang were going to abduct another test patient that night, and the turtles rushed to the location that was shared, and ended up there just in time to help you and destroy the Kraang bots.

You hadn't been too badly hurt; bruised arms and shins from pounding on the metal robots, scraped hands, scraped knees, and a possible emotional blackout, to explain why you didn't remember what had happened to you.

You merely nodded along, trying not to stare too much at the two creatures in front of you, who introduced themselves as Raphael and Donatello.

"(Y-Y/N)...." you stuttered out, thinking that they at least deserved to know your name, after all they've done. Your voice was barely above a whisper, so the boys had to listen carefully to hear your name.

Raph and Donnie smiled, glad to hear that you at least trusted them to that extent.

You asked what time it was, and nearly flipped shit when Donatello told you it was almost 1:30 in the morning. Your parents were going to absolutely lose their minds on you! You scrambled to stand up and nearly fell over, thankful that Raphael had caught you.

"I-I need to get h-home." You breathed out, avoiding eye contact and trying to hide your face behind your (H/C) hair, to hide the fact you were red. Why you were red-faced?

You had no clue.

"I'll take ya. There ain't no way in hell you're goin' alone after this." Raphael stated, standing you back up on your own two feet. You would've fought him on it, had you not have agreed with him. If those Kraang guys still wanted you...

you didn't want to be left alone again. So you just nodded and let him walk you out. You didn't see the other two brothers while you walked out, so you assumed they were somewhere else.

Raphael led you around the systems of the sewer and helped you out of the manhole cover, and once out you took a deep breath of fresh air and closed your eyes in an attempt to clear your thoughts.

"I know you've had a rough night doll face, but we should probably get going."

Your eyes snapped open and you felt your face go warm, and instinct brought you to hide your face with your hair and jacket sleeve. You avoided his gaze and just nodded, speed walking to the sidewalk until you realized:

You had no idea where you were.

"Wh-where are we...?" You wheezed out, slightly turning to face Raphael.

"Just a couple blocks from where we found ya. We gotta take the roofs though... can't really walk out in th' street lookin' like I do."

You nearly asked why until it hit you like a brick. Again, you just nodded and climbed up the fire escape after him. You took notice how some of the roofs were pretty far apart, and hoped to God he didn't expect you to jump over them. Thankfully he didn't, and tried to stick to a route that involved just taking a step across. But for those that involved jumping, he just lifted you onto his shell and jumped across before setting you back down again.

Each time he did so he'd ask if you were okay, and you nodded in response hiding your face. And each time, he'd smile and mutter a small "cute," under his breath, which he didn't know you heard.

Once he brought you to where he and his brothers had found you, he told you to lead the way to your apartment, and you pointed him in the right direction. "So," he started, "Kinda wish we coulda met under better circumstances, (Y/N)."

You nodded in response, keeping your gaze down and stepping over a wooden plank. How the hell'd that get there?

"...You're shy, aren't cha?" Raphael asked, and again you nodded. Not only that, it hurt to talk, but he assumed correctly. He chuckled and lightly nudged your shoulder with his.

"Ya don't gotta be 'round me, I don't bite... much."

You looked up at him with both confusion and shock written all over your face, and it just made him laugh.

"Relax (Y/N), I'm kidding... just a little though."

You rolled your eyes, and yet you couldn't help the small smile that danced across your face.

The both of you walked Ina comfortable silence until you saw your apartment building across the street and elbowed Raphael's arm, pointing to it.

"This is my stop." You whispered, not daring to bring your voice above that. He nodded and hoisted you onto his shell, having to go around the roof tops to avoid going down to the streets. He set you down on your apartment roof, once again asking if you were okay.

"I'm fine, Raphael." You responded, pushing your hair behind your ear. He smiled at you and slightly tilted his head.

"Call me Raph, doll face."

You bit the inside of your lip and looked down, nodding your head. You didn't want him to see your warm and red face, it was extremely embarrassing for you.

"Hey," Raph's voice made you slightly look up, since he wanted your attention. He handed you a folded piece of paper with a number scribbled on it- wait, was this his phone number? Was a guy giving you his phone number? To your face?

"You don't gotta, but if ya don't wanna walk home alone again I'm available if ya need it."

You completely lifted your head to look Raph directly in the face, and he took pride in one thing; making you smile like that. You have him a single nod and held the paper with both hands.

"Trust me, I will.. Raph."

Now it was his turn to smile.

The two of you just stood on the roof for a couple minutes, staring and smiling at each other before something on his belt beeped. He jumped a bit in surprise and glanced at it.

"That's my brothers- I gotta go. You'll be okay?" He asked, taking a small step back.

You nodded, putting the paper in your pocket. "I'm home now. Go."

His smile grew and he backed up towards the edge of the roof.

"Try not t' get into trouble doll face! Just save a little to give me an excuse t' save ya again!" He shouted, just before jumping to the roof next to yours and taking off, eventually disappearing.

"I think I like that. Doll face..." you thought to yourself, still smiling like an idiot. You stood on your roof for God knows how long more before you came to your senses and carefully climbed down your fire escape and slid through your window.

.

"Was that really two years ago...?" You thought to yourself, flipping a pen between your fingers.

Yup. It was.

Two years ago these four boys saved your life, and two years ago you met the boy that kinda saved you, in a way.

It took him time, but he got you to slowly expand your comfort zone. You didn't stutter every time you spoke anymore, and you didn't respond with simple gestures anymore and used actual words that really carried a conversation. And at the same time, you helped him.

You kinda found out about his anger the hard way, having him lash out at you when he was beyond pissed off, and though it did hurt, you didn't blame him. In fact, you made it your goal to try and help him with it.

He'd expressed to you before how he'd never liked his short temper, and so you helped him. You showed him ways that he could release stress and repressed emotions, like actually using his drum kit and playing when he got pissed, or just sitting with you and either talking, or just sitting in silence.

Coming up in December would actually be a year since Raph had asked you out, too.

It didn't really come as a surprise to most, since the both of you were pretty open about affection with each other even before you two decided to make it official, just because.

The two of you would always sit close together, hold each other's hand, cuddle each other and he'd even kiss your cheek every now and again. Every movie night, you bet that the two of you would sit or lie with each other, and Raph would play with your hair or lightly trace an invisible pattern on your arm.

All in all, it wasn't really a surprise to Raph's brothers, April or Casey when he'd asked you out. The only person it surprised was you, but even then you'd accepted in a heartbeat.

And to this day, he still calls you doll face.

Two years later, the boy's nearly eighteen and you the same, you've found a new family.

And a new love.

"(Y/N), doll face, cmon we're headin' out with or without ya!" You rolled your eyes and smiled, shoving the pen in your jean pocket and getting up, grabbing your jacket.

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming Raph!" You called, walking out of his room and slipping your arms through your jacket sleeves as you jogged out to the entrance to meet the boys.

About a year ago, after you'd actually learned how to properly, they let you join along on some of their patrols. Raph made you carry a small dagger though. Just in case you got separated and something happened to you.

Speak of the devil, he heard you coming up behind him and turned around smiling. He extended his arm to you, waiting for you to end up at his side before putting his arm around your waist and pulling you close to his side, kissing the top of your head.

"All ready and fashionably late, doll face?"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, shoving him while failing to hide a smile of your own.

"Shaddup Raph, I was doing important things." You said, zipping your jacket up.

He just chuckled and raised his arms in mock defence.

"Alright, alright, I'm sorry baby." He said, lightly pressing his lips to the side of your head and cheek in chaste kisses. You turned your head at the last second to catch his lips in a quick kiss. While he smiled and put an arm around your shoulders, Mikey mock gaged.

"Yup, think I'm gonna hurl-" he said, making a queasy face. Raph reached out with his free hand and punched his baby brother in the shoulder.

"Oh shut it Mike, not like ya don't see it regularly." Mikey hit Raph's arm back, which quickly escalated into an arm punching war. You tried not to laugh too much, looking over to Leo and Donnie, who were trying to do the same thing.

"Alright alright alright guys, that's enough!" Leo called, laughing a bit to himself.

"We gotta get going before it gets too late, we gotta take (Y/N) home by midnight. Let's move out!"

With those words, the five of you took off running towards your normal exit to the top world.

//////

gUIS IM IN ABSOLUTE L O V E WITH THIS ONE SHOT I LOVED WRITING IT SO GOD DAMNED MUCH AAAAAHHHHHHHH

PS THIS WAS WRITTEN AT LIKE 11 pm - 2:30 am SOOOOOOOOO

[deluluass]

Red, like blood. Blue, like love.

Content warnings: rape/noncon; nsfw; bullying; soulmates au

Prompt: 88 & 183

There’s someone for everyone, you’d learned growing up.

 "Remember, blue means happy," your mother would say. "The happiest you'll ever be.”

She liked reminding you about this fact— for it is an indisputable truth, every so often when she could still carry you. You’d be hugged from the back, as she recounted stories of first meetings, serendipitous and life changing in their nature; belonging to those who’ve lived long before you, sometimes even those who’ve only lived in tales.

Mostly, your mother loved telling those involving the people she knew. And if you’ve behaved properly, she would tell you about hers. 

Tracing your palm, starting from the forked lines to the dashed ones on your fingers, she’d say, “These would start to glow like stars.”

“That’s weird!” you’d burst out, shrieking a laughter as she tickled you. 

“Listen carefully,” she chastised. “Blue is for your soulmate, okay?”

And you’d repeat: Blue is for my soulmate.

“Then, mama,” you tugged at her sleeves, “What if it’s really, really bright red! Like! Bloody glow sticks! Say, mama, you see, everyone at the park was talking about the man who died because he touched someone and his hand became bright re— ”

You never brought that up again. What your mother said about it had been enough to never make you forget.

“Tell me if you get red,” she said firmly, clutching your arms as if she feared someone would snatch you away from her. “Red is bad, my heart. Red means run.”

 It hadn’t nearly been as gruesome as your mother made it out to be. 

Case in point, when you turned twelve the couple three houses down your street found out, shortly after their honeymoon, that their palms gleamed a fierce red once they clasped each other’s hands in front of the neighborhood aunties.  

Their marriage ended with a swift and ordinary divorce, a year or so later.

Red: Not just an ominous warning for homicide, then. That was a relief, you’d thought.

Contrary to how your mother framed it, you were thankful, actually. It helped some of your friends escape from potentially hellish relationships. How lucky is it that you lived in a reality where the universe seemed exceedingly benevolent. Though, you sometimes have to question if that generosity extended to everyone.

Fat lot of good it did for you. 

Because, from where you’re standing, it doesn’t have to take some arbitrary and unsolvable scientific mystery to heed that Oikawa Tooru must be avoided like the plague.

Any person in your shoes would be conditioned to do exactly that. 

You’d first met in Elementary. You thought he was the prettiest kid you’d ever seen, with chestnut curls and doe eyes and lashes that swept past his cheeks, and when you’d asked for a hand shake he’d called you “the ugliest girl I’ve ever seen” and “fart face.” 

Recess and lunch were when he’s most fearsome. Spiky burdocks slapped on the collar of your dress; dead lizards in your food; the boy was determined. The worst part was that it always happened when no one was looking. And if someone were, it was his best friend. So when you finally told on him to your mom, both your teacher and the principal simply judged Oikawa as the victim of an attention deprived child.

“Please discipline your daughter,” they told her. “We are all aware of your situation at home, but do ensure that she’s not getting out of control.”

You couldn’t even muster up the strength to defend yourself. In that moment all you could do was swear that you’d never allow anyone to talk to your mother in that way again. 

You moved out of that school. 

You didn’t wait for your palms to flash a warning signal because, somehow, you knew that boys who discover early that they could get away with anything cannot get any better. 

There’d been no way to be sure of that until Aoba Johsai— after a peaceful interim of no Oikawa; no red palm lines (and no blue ones, either).

The proof hit you in the face. Literally. 

“Oi, Shittykawa!”

Heat permeated from your nostrils as you patted your cheek, detached and staring back at the large gymnasium. 

“You hit someone!”

How unlucky did a person have to be to bleed right on the first day of classes? 

You tried to lean forward. “It’s okay,” you slurred nasally, pinching your nose and averting your embarrassed gaze from the boy kneeling next to you.

“Trashykawa! You better hurry and apologize!”

“Don’t be mad, Iwa-chan,” that disgustingly saccharine voice came from behind you, making you flinch, as if the years you’d spent apart had done nothing to purge it out of your system.

In all honesty, you hadn’t really cared for whoever was responsible for the ball that careened all the way to where you were standing, so sure that it had to be an accident. No one in their right mind would want to injure someone they barely knew, especially if said someone is a couple of feet away from you. 

Morally and athletically, it should’ve been improbable. But then you saw who did it and everything made perfect sense.

Iwa-chan. The boy beside you. Iwaizumi Hajime.

If he’s here, then— 

“You,” he whispered. 

“Eh?! Gosh, I’m so sorry!” Oikawa Tooru gasped. “You’re bleeding.”

Time is cruel. It wears down on you, tears you and molds you into something you can’t even recognize, if it decides to. (Fate, more so). You didn’t know if you wanted to cry or laugh, looking at him. If the universe were so benevolent, then perhaps Oikawa Tooru had received all of its favor.

He was beautiful. You’d known this before, but with all the baby fat replaced with sharp yet slender angles, figure lean and imposing even when he’d lowered himself to meet your eyes, Oikawa didn’t seem real.

“I did hit someone, didn’t I?” he pouted, wiping the dried blood atop your lip. “And such a pretty girl, too.”

That volleyball existed should’ve made life better for you. It didn’t. If anything, it seemed that out of the court, when he’s not taking names and being praised like a god, you were his little pastime. Something fun to take his mind off whatever it is he thinks about it. 

The mocking comments, you could handle; every time you’d recite and he’ll interject with something playful and then the entire class would laugh (because he’s Oikawa) and your professor would reprimand him but you could always tell that they, too, are holding in a giggle. 

Those were easy to bear, because although his insults hit way too close to home, it’s just— it’s just so petty.

Really, it’s the aftermath that does the damage.

“They’re like Christmas lights under your skin!” 

This topic pops up every month or so. Most people your age can be lucky enough to meet their soulmate this early. 

“And it’s the most awesome feeling in the world,” your classmate sighed. “When we touched hands? Man. We just- we glowed.”

Then, the others would poke fun, faking a gagged expression, but they’d always ask afterwards, “What happened next?” And everytime, you’d watch from the sidelines. Like an uninvited audience. 

You tried being a part of it once, wanting to share about the time your close friend met her soulmate. But all you’d gotten were side eyes and titters, as if they were laughing about a joke only you didn’t know about. 

“They’re so mean to you.” 

You groaned.

Oikawa was seated behind you, resting his head against his elbow. Everyone was too busy talking about blue lights and destined souls to notice what’s happening at the back of the room. 

He continued, “Not including you in conversations, treating you like an outsider.”

You didn’t bite, focusing on the opened book in front of you.

“Must be lonely, having no one.”

“Oikawa,” you muttered under your breath. “I don’t have the energy for this.”

The silence that came after that was unexpected. You were sure it would be short lived; he’s just gearing up for more. He usually went at it until you’d have no choice but to physically remove yourself from his presence. You’d thought once that that may be why he does this so much. Maybe he still thought you were the “ugliest girl” he’s ever met and he wants you out of his sight. Because Oikawa’s infantile like that.

But the silence stayed, accompanied by the background noise of eager conversations; lingering some more as white, fluffy clouds passed by the glass windows. 

When he broke it, all Oikawa said was, “Soulmates, huh.”

You felt a finger touch your back, drawing the barest of lines over your uniform. He removed them just before you could stand up and leave. 

You disliked those moments with him. 

You disliked him especially when he played. 

Oikawa’s a monster, be it in volleyball or with you. There are times, though, that you’d notice some things that you think you’re not meant to see. Like after a serve— its impact booming throughout the court, he’d have this puzzling expression on his face. 

It looked like....anger. 

He scored a point, right? Everyone’s cheering for him, aren’t they? Wait, didn’t they win?

You thought maybe it’s the adrenaline making him nastier than usual, but sometimes you’d pass by the gym when he happens to be alone. And that anger is still there, punctuated by the sound of the ball exploding against the floor. Jump. Hit. Spike. Jump. Hit. Spike. He’d do it, again and again and again. 

As if he’s trying to grasp something even he cannot reach. 

Those instances should’ve taught you that the best thing to do is look away. 

That’s what you should’ve done. Look away.

They lost the Interhigh tournament.

You knew this not because you’d watched, but because for one day, Oikawa Tooru wasn’t your bully. 

The derision was replaced by sulking. He didn’t speak for the entire period. The funniest thing about it was that everyone kept staring at you. Like somehow you’d been the cause of this, when all of them were lamenting the loss just as much as the team itself. 

 What was supposed to be a reason for celebration suddenly became a crime that you had to explain for.

 “Great,” you grumbled to yourself. “One time I don’t have a target on my back, now I’m the bad guy.”

Trash bag in hand, the scraps inside rattled against each other as you stomped to the recycling bin, both sleeves of your P.E jacket folded up to the elbows. You affected a tone, choosing to mock the grating way some of classmates talked:

“Oh, hey, if it’s not too much,” you began. “Can you please be his punching bag again? If you will, can you relieve our superstar’s burdens? By, I don’t know, alluring him into walking all over you? Like the good old days! Please, oh please? We rely on you, oh Great Punching Bag! We Beseech thee, oh Esteemed Doormat! We compel— dude, what the fuck?!”

Crumpled papers and steel and tin cans rolled to the ground. You didn’t pick them up, like you should’ve; you left it there, trash bag lying open, and grabbed the ball that whisked mere inches from your face. 

This time you’re not making the same mistake. The asshole is more than capable of suspending what little morals he has, just to hurt someone he barely knew. As well as athletically adept (an understatement, that) at hitting a walking target; or not hitting it, in this case.  

You stormed the almost empty gym. Oikawa is a ray of sunshine, greeting you with that smile. It makes you want to punch him.

“What is wrong with you?” you spat. 

He chuckled. “Whoops. Sorry!” 

“I’m not having this-” you shoved the ball to his stomach. He didn’t even blink. “This isn’t gonna slide anymore, Oikawa.”

Wide grin still in place, he took it from your hands with his much larger ones and said, “Wow, you’re actually mad this time. ”  

Then, he added, “I didn’t mean it! Honest!” 

Must be nice, you thought with a scowl, to be him. Anyone can be sincere if they look anything like Oikawa. 

“Sure. Fine. No, actually,” you glowered. “You know what?” 

“Hm?” He tilted his head. Oikawa tilted his pretty little head.

You seethed. “I get it. You lost. That doesn’t mean you get to take it out on me. I mean, what did I ever do to you, Oikawa? I have-” you exhaled, surprised by the break in your voice. 

“I haven’t done anything to you. We stopped being kids a long time ago. That shit you pull should’ve ended by now. We’ve grown.” You jabbed his chest. “But I see that maybe not all of us have.”

His pleased expression hadn’t dropped. “Ouch,” Oikawa grimaced, glancing amusedly at the place you’d touched. “How mean.”

This isn’t going anywhere. 

You don’t know why it took you this long to realize this, as you shifted your gaze away from him, noticing the gashes on the floor that tear the surface like scars that never healed. That must’ve been because of him, with the amount of practice he does. 

“It won’t be enough, won’t it, Oikawa?” you whispered. “Not for you.”

The smile that’s been there since you arrived tensed, straining at the corners of his lips. 

“Yeah, I’ve been told,” he beamed. 

He was bathing in his own sweat, seeping through his shirt and matting his hair to his face, and he looks— Oikawa looked tired. His eyes were sunken in, too. Did he even sleep?

You’re so used to seeing him not a hair out of place, with a sweet scent that you amusedly thought lures his gaggle of admirers into following him everywhere. It takes you aback, honestly. Particularly the wobble in his step as he bent and squeezed his knee with shaky fingers.

You don’t think he’s aware he’s doing it in front of you.

Then, just like that, everything seemed to have added up.  

“You’ll never be happy,” you said.

You should’ve stopped there. You should’ve left. Instead, you looked him in those brown eyes, the warm hue becoming a lot colder as he moved closer. 

Oikawa sneered. “And what do you know, huh?” 

(Go. Leave.)

“Nothing,” you told him. “I don’t- I don’t know. Because, I don’t get it.”

(Shut up. Shut up.)

“Why you try any harder, I don’t know. Win or lose, it’s all the same. You’re still the same. You’re still awful and annoying and- and still you.” You laughed, unsure why you’re running your mouth like this. 

“Win or lose. Oikawa is still Oikawa,” you breathed in. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

His teammates must’ve gone somewhere. For lunch, maybe, you thought as you eyed the abandoned bottles and used towels scattered around the court. “Besides,” you huffed, not without a twinge of envy. “They’ll all still love you, either way.” 

Everything went still for a while, and you’d just realized what you’d just said.

“What about you?” 

You looked back at him.

“What?”

He tipped his chin. You stepped backwards. 

He brushed your wrist.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed, but he only smiled and wrapped his entire hand around it. 

Oikawa had been your first bully. Before you could even comprehend what that meant, Oikawa had been the source of your mother’s worries whenever she parted with you at the school gates. It is funny, thinking about it, for letting this boy affect you despite making an effort to stay away the first time. 

But it is only now— now that he has a firm hold on you, gentle yet smothering— that you truly feared Oikawa Tooru. 

It rattled your breath, squeezing your heart and refusing air to pass through your lungs, as you felt a shock zap through you. And apparently through him as well.

You broke away from each out with a cry.

Your hand was burning. That’s the only explanation for it. Your hand was burning and any moment now smoke will diffuse from the pores. 

You waited. Any moment now. But the more you stared at it the more tiny spots of flames sparked under your skin, bursting along the palm lines— first, the forked ones; then, the dashed lines— glaring back at you, glowing brighter, blotting and spreading until they mapped your palms then your entire hands like constellations. 

“Red is bad, my heart,” your mother said. “Red means run.”

“I knew it,” you scoffed, shaking your head. 

Well, it’s not as if this is news to you. 

“What about that, Oikawa?” You put both your radiating hands in the air. “The universe is telling us, you and I? We just don’t—”

Why are you crying?

Why is Oikawa crying? 

“I knew it,” he croaked.

Your mother made the red light sound so horrifying for a reason. 

There has to be a reason, too, why the universe is warning you so late into your life. You’d actually ran before. And when you thought it a waste of money, you chose to stay and not fight back; thinking that his punches have become less severe, degraded into verbal taunts that induce social exclusion at most; that, certainly, red doesn’t forbode something as bad as murder, right?

Well, what now? You were wrong, after all. This time you have a feeling that you actually need to hide. 

Because Oikawa’s looking at you like you’re the last two people left in this Earth. 

Just you and him. Without any need for anybody else. 

You didn’t breathe, attempting to bolt despite the overwhelming need to throw up right where you're standing. He stepped closer, faster than you’d liked, and touched your face, caressing your cheek up to your aching temple.

“You should really stop trying to run away,” he said, voice low as if he’s sharing a secret. “I’ll always find you, you know?”

You didn’t have to look to know. Even if you closed your eyes, as well, you know it’s still going to be there; glowing in the darkness behind your eyelids.

“Me and you—” Oikawa sighed. 

Listen carefully, your mother said.

“ —we have a connection that no one else will ever understand,” he said.

The light emitting from his hand was so harsh it hurt you, pricking your sight until it drew fat tears, reflecting against your damp face and tinting the fallen streaks with bright—

Blue means happy, she told you. The happiest you’ll ever be.

And you’d repeat: Blue. Blue is for—

“My soulmate," Oikawa said, before locking you in a deep, searing kiss. 

The lights didn't die even as he dragged you into the storage room.  

"Hey, where'd senpai go?" 

The rest of the volleyball team came in droves, occupying the hollow court with their squeaking shoes and questions about Oikawa's whereabouts.

"Must've gone somewhere," you heard a deep voice say. 

You could answer that question. All you  had to do was scream. They weren't so far from the room that they wouldn't pick it up over the noise of their volleyball practice. Really, if you needed to, you could even outshout their guttural yells of "Nice kill!"

Though, you'd have to remove the underwear lodged in your mouth first. 

Yours, in fact; soaked now by your own saliva, drool dripping to your chin as your wrists chafed against the rope that's keeping them tied at your back.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" You felt every sickening movement of Oikawa's lips against your throat. "Feels good when you- ah, fuck- when you give in."

With the cloth muting your shrill bawling, you tried your best to recall how you ended up here: seated on his lap as he sluggishly humped himself against you, his still glowing hands cupping your ass.  

The only thing left on your body was your bra, and even that he's already lowered to let your tits spill over the top. Your pants and t-shirt and jacket are lying around somewhere. You couldn't determine where in particular; the only sources of light were behind you.  

He was leaving imprints of blue all over your skin; around your waist as he slithered his hands to reach your breasts, scantily brushing over the hardened nipples and making you keel over.

"So sensitive," he tutted, smooching your neck so gently that even the underwear couldn't muffle your loud yelp when he suddenly bit into the flesh. Hard. 

You wanted to claw his eyes out and call for help and you wanted badly to scream don't do that Oikawa someone please save me he's gonna kill me he's gonna kill me-

But the gag remained intact and the boys outside continued their game, ignorant that their precious captain is taking everything away from you. 

Sharp canines bruised your skin, provoking a fresh batch of tears as he sucked and licked every after cruel bite. 

Then, when you thought the worst had passed, he removed his mouth from your neck to spit onto your bare cunt, allowing it to slide from the hair on your mound to the nub sticking out in the middle.

(It is not enough that he is killing you. Oikawa must defile you, too.)

His fingers gripped the insides of your thighs open when you tried to shut them together. "Don't be a brat," he clicked his tongue.

"Be a nice little kitten for me," Oikawa drawled, smearing the slick that's soaking your folds against the spittle coating your clit.

You didn't notice when he'd taken his cock out, you only realize that he's about to enter you when he teased your entrance with it, pushing the tip to nudge the drenched hole, only to pull it back again.

And you didn't dare look. The feel of it almost stretching you out with just the head is already driving you to insipid begging.

"What'd you say, kitten?" he pouted.

Oikawa you've already taken too much is it never going to be enough Oikawa let me go.

"I can't understand you," he chuckled. "Here—"

He pulled the underwear out of your mouth as he thrust all the way inside, your back arching, driving him deeper, as his cock throbbed against your pussy walls.

"Now, what were you saying?"

You swallowed your cries and heaved and swore you were gonna tear his heart out after this. 

"Say," he whispered, sniffing your wet panties without breaking his gaze. "If everyone saw us right now, how'd you think they'd react?"

It was so reverent, the way he did it, blue light revealing that he closed his eyes as he took a whiff, as if he hung onto your scent like a lifeline.

But you thought that'd been a calculated move, because as you dumbly stared at him, he immediately gyrated his hips under you, rocking back and forth ever so slowly, and you remembered that you had to keep quiet.

His cock was so big inside you, making you bite your lip as it filled you up, the curved tip hitting a spot that has you squirming in his embrace.

"At this point they'll know how much of a whore you are," he said, tangling his muscled arms around yours and anchoring you to his body. "Made just for me."

"Oika-Oikawa…"

You don't know this person. 

"Help..me.."

You don't know who's speaking out and whimpering for Oikawa, on her knees and bouncing up and down on his lap with weak, quivering thighs. 

It couldn't be you.

"Help you?" You felt him nuzzle your neck. "I thought you wanted me to stay away, though?"

Someone mewled out a pathetic, "N-no."

"No? Then what d'you want, kitten?"

(Oh. Oh, he feels so fucking good.)

Your belly has never felt this hot before and it's driving you crazy that you're chasing for something you cannot see and it feels so near but there's something, something that's keeping you from it that all you can do is grind your sopping cunt closer to him.

"Wanna- I wanna cum."

Oikawa kissed you on the forehead, and then he said, "Go ahead, then."

He released your arms. 

Then, he's scooping cum off your pussy, making sure to drag his fingers under the lips, before circling your large, swelling clit. Then, he's sucking your tits and swirling his tongue around a nipple and you're so so close.

"That's it," Oikawa sighed. "Ride my cock, baby."

His rough palm slapped both your ass cheeks and the cry that erupted from you only made him laugh. 

"Make yourself cum on my cock," he grunted, licking his smiling lips as he leaned back against the wall, hand idly rubbing your dripping clit. "You're making a mess, darling. Leaking like that."

You're quivering all over; your cunt is spasming and your legs are complaining beneath you, but you don't stop. You lift your hips and then sink your pussy down, down until you feel his balls touching your sore ass, the sloshing sound growing louder as you move faster. 

You don't think about what this'll all mean later, what you're doing giving in to him, when you scream out his name. But as soon as you did, Oikawa's growl had been your only warning.

He grabbed the back of your head and kissed you, plunging his tongue into your throat, his strong arms pressing you so close to him you can no longer tell his skin from yours, his battering heartbeat from yours. 

You didn't move—weren't allowed to, when he hammered his cock into you, pounding your cunt and fucking you raw until you're breathless and nothing but a shuddering wreck, splitting at the seams in his hands as you feel thick spurts of hot cum slide out of you. 

"My pretty girl," came his hoarse whisper. "My pretty, pretty girl."

The lights have dimmed, when he cradled your shaking form and moved out of you, faint traces left on just the palm lines and fingertips. 

They were flooded by the sudden brightness that enveloped the storage room.

"Holy shit."

You pressed your eyes close, your entire body prickling at Oikawa’s touch.

It shouldn't be surprising, at this point, that Oikawa, as quick as he'd stripped you off of everything, has already covered you back in your jacket. The smell of it striking you ruthlessly, that old cologne that you always use to school reminding you of who you were, before all this.

Had it only been a few hours? It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Ah," Oikawa murmured. "They caught us."

"Oikawa,” someone roared. Oikawa held you, hiding your face against his chest. “Why you son of a-"

"C-coach..! Stop- Oi, someone help me hold him- no, coach! "

You heard him chuckle. “Sorry about this, everyone.” He held up his hand and you had to keep yourself from sobbing. “But, look.”

There were several gasps. 

(Everybody knows now.)

“You..and her?” 

The boy who said that sounded so astonished, clearly overjoyed for some reason, that it revolted you.

“Mhm,” he nodded, a smile in his voice. “Now, can you guys please give us some privacy?” 

Feet shuffled out of the room, along with stuttered apologies. They all left. 

Except for one.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa pouted.

“What did you do, Oikawa?”

A beat. Then, he repeated, “Iwa-chan.”

Please. 

Iwaizumi didn’t say anything. 

Please help me.

“Sure,” he grunted.

He was gone, too, after that.

You were back in the darkness, with nothing but the faltering red and blue on your hands and his, while he untied your wrists and kneaded the abrasion away, cooing sweet nothings to your ear. 

“I hate you,” you rasped. 

“Don’t say that.”

“I fucking hate you-”

“Please stop yelling-”

“I won’t ever forgive you, Oikawa!”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he cried, shaking his head as he brushed your tear-stained cheeks with both thumbs. You clutched them, wanting him off you, but he only latched himself firmly into you. “We’re meant to be.”

“You’re the only one for me.” 

Oikawa brought your numb hand to his face, pressing a kiss to your palm, the red light basking him in its soft glow.

“And I’m the only one for you,” he said, intertwining your fingers together. 

The lights flickered in and out, at first, as you stared vacantly into it, the red and blue swallowing each other. Until they finally disappeared, leaving just you and him, curled against each other in the shadows. 

[fruitcoops]

Ok so what sbout remus/sirius being too sick to go to an away game so the other one has to go alone, and then tons of facetime conversations and "get well soon" videos from the team?

This is related to this fic about Remus and Finn bonding over terrible reporters--hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, and the Loops/ Talker bonding is for @lee-1012!

TW for illness

“You don’t look so good.” Remus frowned as he held the inside of his wrist against Sirius’ forehead. “And you definitely have a fever.”

“Non.” Sirius sat up on his elbows with a groan, then almost immediately flopped back down.

“Yes.” He leaned back on his heels and checked the clock—they had two hours before they had to be at the airport. “Baby, I don’t think you should—”

“ ‘m going.”

“It’s not a good—”

“Gotta go. Games.” Sirius cracked one glassy eye open. “Two weeks away. I’ll take the first couple days off.”

Remus sighed through his nose and brushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “You shouldn’t go on the plane if you’re sick. Not just for your sake, but for the rest of us. We don’t need everyone to come down with this.”

He received a halfhearted glare in response, but Sirius finally huffed and curled on his side to nuzzle against his thigh. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, baby,” Remus said quietly, bending to kiss his temple. They hadn’t been apart for that long since before he was a player, nearly a year prior. Hell, he had never played a game without Sirius, let alone two weeks’ worth. “Lily will check on you, okay?”

Sirius mumbled an incoherent response and cuddled closer when he began combing his fingers through his hair. The second alarm beeped, loud against the quiet of their bedroom; time to go, he thought ruefully. Sirius touched his knee as he started to stand. “Love you. Be safe.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most.”

“Go back to sleep,” Remus said as his heart clenched. “I’ll let Coach know what happened, but you’ve got to rest and take care of yourself. Hydrate or die-drate, yeah?”

“Yeah. Love you.”

“Sleep,” he repeated, kissing his forehead once more before hauling himself out of bed and tucking the covers around Sirius’ shoulders. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

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

The clouds were a soft, pastel pink around them as the sun rose—Sirius’ favorite. If his phone was correct, Lily would be there soon to let Hattie out and make sure Sirius wasn’t pushing himself too hard. The thought brought Remus a bit of relief, but not enough to quell his concern.

Talker poked his forearm, snapping him from his reverie. “What’s going on?”

“Just worrying.”

“About Cap?”

Remus waved a hand vaguely. “And Hattie, and Lily, and whether he’s got a cold or something worse. Feels weird being here without him.”

Talker hummed his agreement and offered one of his earbuds. “Want to listen to half of Bohemian Rhapsody with me? It’ll give you five minutes and 55 seconds of relative peace.”

“It’s too quiet,” James groaned just before he pressed ‘play’.

Across the aisle, Remus saw Kasey roll his eyes. “Your husband is sick, dude, not dead. He doesn’t talk to you on planes anyway.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Bliz.”

“Oh my god,” Kasey muttered under his breath, securing his headphones tightly over his ears.

James let his head flop to the side with a baleful look. “Loops, you’re on my side, right?”

“I’ve got you, buddy,” he assured him. Talker stifled a laugh, and the opening chords began as more clouds rolled past. Remus let himself drift with them, taking deep breaths to soothe his worries; Sirius would be fine. He had the sniffles, or at worst the flu, and he would be join them for the second week in top form. There was nothing to worry about.

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

“He’s got pneumonia,” Lily sighed.

“He what?”

“A mild case, but the doctor said it would take a week of antibiotics and rest before he’s close to a hundred percent. No hockey for about a month, too.”

Remus stared at the wall of his empty hotel room, lost for words. “Well, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

“Pretty m—absolutely not, go lay down.” There was a rustling noise and two grumbling voices. “Sorry about that.”

“Will you put me on speaker real quick?” Remus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose until he heard a faint click. “Sirius? You there?”

“Yes! I miss you, and I was just going to tell you that it’s really not that—”

“Please sit your ass down. Lily, if he tries to fuck around and find out exactly how nasty pneumonia is, you have full permission to sit on him. I miss you too, love,” he added after a short pause.

“He’s blowing you a kiss,” Lily informed him. “Oh, and he’s giving me the puppy eyes.”

“Resist if you can. Love you both. Give Hattie lots of cuddles from me.”

“We will,” she promised.

The second the call ended, Remus groaned aloud and thumped his head against the wall before padding down the hall. Just my fucking luck. The door swung open after the second knock; Arthur’s face fell. “How bad is it?”

“Mild pneumonia.”

“Fuck.”

“Yep. Doctor said he’d be out for a month.”

Arthur rubbed his eyes and nodded, motioning Remus back towards his own room. “Get some rest, then. I’ll let everyone know in the morning. Any idea how he got it?”

“Not a clue.”

“Thanks for the update, Loops. Sleep tight.”

“I will,” Remus lied as he headed back for a sleepless night between cold sheets.

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

Lily sent updates every few hours; most reported that Sirius was sleeping well and looking better with each passing day, but Remus couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly guilty. If something happened while he was hundreds of miles away, he would never forgive himself. He had sworn in front of their closest friends and family to be there in sickness and in health—what kind of husband ditches their partner for one of a million roadies?

This one. He stabbed a piece of broccoli and shoved it in his mouth. And then he goes and makes an idiot of himself for the world to see.

The interview was supposed to be easy, but he couldn’t let it roll off anymore. Not when he couldn’t answer their questions even when he wanted to, not when he was states away from the love of his life while he was sick, not when he felt helpless and shoved aside in every current aspect of his life.

“So.” The chair next to him creaked as Talker planted his full weight in it and set his plate decisively on the table.

“What.”

“Oh, pissy Loops. Haven’t seen you in a while. Talked to Cap yet?”

“Yeah.” Another piece of broccoli fell victim to his frustration.

“How’s he sound?”

“Better.”

“Sweet.” Talker continued to munch away on his dinner. “Anyone ever told you that you have the general disposition of a wet cat when you’re upset?”

Remus tried and failed to keep down a smile. “I seem to recall you bringing it up on occasion, yes.”

His dark eyes softened and he bumped their elbows together. “He’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

“Really, Loops. Cap’s going to be just fine. Lily doesn’t sugar-coat this kind of stuff, and he’s a tough guy. Mild pneumonia doesn’t stand a chance. Besides, we’ve only got four days left and we need you to kick some ass out there.”

If Remus was a little more emotionally vulnerable, he would’ve burst into tears. Instead, he settled for leaning his temple against Talker’s with a quiet ‘thanks’ and allowed himself to be pulled into a side hug. Across the dining hall, Finn shot him a thumbs-up and a wink. “Love you, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Talker teased. “The internet is already coming to your aid, you know.”

“About…?”

“Not only have those asshole reporters become a new meme, you’ve also got a shit ton of people bringing up past mistreatment of athletes in the press room. You’re the face of a revolution, Loops.”

“I’ve been the face of too many revolutions for one person,” he groused, not even bothering to duck out of the way when Talker ruffled his hair.

“Well, one more won’t kill you.”

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

Remus’ heart raced as he stepped off the plane. The logical part of him knew that Sirius would be waiting outside the security gate, but everything else screamed to see him now, now, right now so he could be sure he was alright. At least he had sounded healthier on the phone the night before—Remus wasn’t sure what he would do otherwise.

“Deep breaths,” James reminded him as they walked toward the baggage claim. “I’m sure he’s—”

An excited shout broke through the thick crowds. Remus’ heart skipped a beat, and then he was running, racing through the people that parted for him as his vision tunneled. His carry-on hit the ground with a low thud that he hardly heard as Sirius lifted him straight off the ground and held him tight.

“I love you,” Remus said immediately, locking his ankles around Sirius’ lower back and squeezing his eyes shut. “Are you okay?”

In lieu of a response, Sirius pulled back and kissed him, cradling one side of his face in his warm, warm hand. Two weeks may as well have been an eternity. He broke away after a moment, searching his face for any signs of illness or pain. “I’m fine,” Sirius said softly, as if he could read his mind. “I promise. A little tired and sore, but there’s no lasting damage.”

“Don’t do that again,” Remus said into the side of his neck as he hugged him close. He smelled like home. “Not when I have to leave.”

Sirius’ arms were steady around his back. “I won’t.”

“I’m going to grill you on everything as soon as we get home.”

“I know.”

“But right now, I’m just going to hug you because I missed you and I worried myself into a hole, like, every night.”

He could feel Sirius’ smile against his shoulder. “I know.”

[mrsmaybank]

My Little Sun - Reid x Reader

“Ridiculously perfect.” I held her tighter as she looked up at me and our eyes locked, “I’ve fallen ridiculously in love with you.” “So my evil plan worked then?” She chirped.

CONTENT WARNINGS: AGE GAP, VIOLENCE, KIDNAPPING, PREGNANCY, STALKING, LANGUAGE probably the misuse of a Russian word  IF THERES MORE LMK 

A/N: Okay, let me be honest rq this idea lowk scared me but the words really just fell out of my brain really easily so, yk fuck it whatever.  ANYWAY, if you like, please let me know! 

pt 2, pt 3 “I love you Spencer.” The words immediately melted me. 

“I know so many things.” She gave me an unapproving look. 

“I don’t mean to sound cocky, but I do! Now for once in your life, listen to me.” She nodded her head in concession.

“I’ve just read more, I’ve written more, I’ve discovered and studied more than the average person. I could tell you a little bit about anything with one hundred percent certainty. I could--and want--to tell you the names of all the stars, I could recite verbatim the entirety of Prometheus Bound by Aeschylus or Dostoevsky’s The Brothers Karamazov, which you know, speaking of I will ‘cause I still can’t believe you haven’t read it,” Her smile flattened into a straight line, and I laughed. “Orrr, I could also tell you something simple, like why we get the hiccups.” I shook my head. 

“Regardless, I know so many things and I’m rarely taken by surprise because of it. Everything in life is a pattern of change, and as a human, we will always adjust and adapt to whatever situation we are in. For better or worse, we don’t feel the same thing for very long. This is why an addict takes a couple more every time, a sadist hits his second victim harder than the first, they’re searching for the high of the first time, and it will never come.”

She nodded in understanding, 

 “I know this is true, it’s factual, and yet every time I look at you it feels like the first. You’ve broken the laws of human psychology.” 

“First time you saw me was at a gas station Spencer.” 

“No. The first time I looked at you after I knew I loved you.” 

“Where were we?” 

“My car. You were dancing. You looked ridiculous.” 

“Ridiculously sexy? You mean?” She smiled. 

“Ridiculously perfect.” I held her tighter as she looked up at me and our eyes locked, “I’ve fallen ridiculously in love with you.” 

“So my evil plan worked then?” She chirped.

“It did indeed. You’ve become my solnyshko moyo.”

“Tell me that’s Russian dirty talk.” She said with a grin. 

“It’s better. It’s a term of endearment you’ve become the epitome of.” 

“And what’s that Dr. Reid?” she giggled. 

“My little sun. You’ve become my little sun. Following me around and bringing light and warmth.” She snuggled herself impossibly closer into my chest, wrapping one of her legs over mine. 

“Except for your feet!” I shrieked at her freezing toes meeting mine. 

“They’re not that cold you big baby!” she shouted. 

I laughed and kissed her sweetly, “I am not the baby here.” I said.  

“Please,” she started until I interrupted her with a kiss, “If you’re not the baby,” I kissed her again, “That implies I’M the baby,” Kiss, “And I’m not a” Kiss. 

“Shush baby.” I told her, but like always, she didn’t listen, instead sitting up to straddle me. My appreciation for her beauty was like how a prisoner appreciates freedom, and yet it was miniscule into what I found in her character. It blew my mind that a girl so perfect existed. 

“Rarely do great virtue and beauty dwell together. Francesco Petrarch.” I started, my hands making their way onto her hips, “That makes you a rarity.” 

“You’re spoiling me with nice words today Spencer.” “You’ve spoiled me. My frontal lobe is spoiled milk.” She laughed, wondering how I was going to manage to make this one romantic. 

“That’s the part of the brain responsible for sensibility and logical thinking, and you, little girl, have positively ruined it. You make me stupid.”

“I ruined the genius Dr. Reid with the 187 IQ? Makes sense. I’m like, way smarter.” 

“You are. So, so much smarter.” 

“I want that in writing.” she poked my chest. 

I pulled her down and kissed her forehead to whisper in her ear. “Not a chance.”

She pushed herself away and rolled her eyes at me like a bratty child does her nanny, and I continued, “ You’re smarter, but I’m more educated. I have more doctorates than you have years in university.” 

“Whatever…”

I brushed the hair away from her perfect face, “You tired baby?” 

She sighed and laid down, splaying herself on my chest, laying on me like I was the duvet. “Very.” 

I held her impossibly close, breathing in her scent and counting every time her heart thumped, her bpm said she was relaxed. Oh god, I wanted her like this forever. Relaxed in my arms, where nothing could touch us but each other. 

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

“Must you work?” I sent the message to Spencer as I rolled over to his side of the bed in anticipation. I breathed in heavy, liking the way the pillow smelled like his laundry.

“Unfortunately.”  he responded. “Think you’ll be home this weekend?” 

“It’s not looking like it, little one. I’m sorry.” 

I didn’t reply. I was too sad to reply. I knew it’d make him feel guilty, which I didn’t want to do, cause like, his job and saving people and shit is important. But, it still wasn’t fair! At all. There was something very important I had to tell him. 

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

Total darkness, and then way too much light. My head hurt and I couldn’t move. I was handcuffed to a wooden chair. There were chains around my torso and ankles. The room was a medical sort of bright. It smelled like bleach and rotting fruit. The walls were dilapidated, seeming to be made of tiles that were once white, but have turned yellow. 

What the FUCK? 

“Hello!” I shouted. My voice was so coarse it hurt. Shit. My head pulsed so badly it practically hurt to think, but I still racked my brain. 

Where am I? 

How’d I get here? 

Why am I here? 

I woke up again. Fuck, why can’t I think? Why can’t I do anything? 

“Hey, y/n.” A woman’s voice. A very stoic, cold, sounding female voice.

I’m not alone. Thank god, oh my god, I’m not alone. 

With the little strength I had, I lifted my head to see her. She wasn’t what I thought. She was alright, she wasn’t tied. She did this to me? 

She took a sip from her silver flask, “Do you know who I am?” 

I shook my head. “No.” 

“Typical.” She stood up and grabbed me by the hair, “You fucking disgust me.” Like, she said, she threw my hair away like it disgusted her. 

She sat back down on the bench in front of the chair I was chained to, “My name is Brook Austen. I was a professor at Georgetown last year. Taught a couple seminars at your school, that little university you go to, the students there were nothing like mine. Not nearly as intelligent, but as expected, Georgetown is much more prestigious, obviously.”

I was confused, and she knew, but did not care. 

“You’re not the brightest, y/n. Only slightly above average high school grades, strikingly mediocre academic performance now.”

Where the hell is she going with this? 

“And you know it doesn’t surprise me, per say, because every man on this goddamn planet is a piece of fucking shit! But I thought that, maybe, just maybe, Spencer was different.” 

She grimaced, “I thought he’d want more than just a pretty face! ‘Cause you might be prettier y/n, but I’m smarter.” Her words were laced with utter hatred. 

Her demeanor changed, and it almost started to seem like she was talking to herself. “I'm older. I’m more successful. I’m fucking better.” 

She approached me again, grabbing my face so I was looking her in those scarily light green eyes, and she wrapped her hands around my throat.  “I’m fucking better then you! Better, better, better!” Every time she said better she shook my neck and gripped tighter so I couldn’t breathe. 

“Stop! Please! Please stop!” I shouted, “I’m-I’m pregnant!” 

She began to break down, “You’re pregnant?” A maniacal chuckle left her throat, “You’re pregnant?”  

“Is it Spencer’s?” she asked. 

I nodded. 

“Wow.” She laughed once more, “Fucking wow.” 

“How could Spencer choose this!? You’re nothing like him. You are a pathetic fucking college student. A fucking daddy issue ridden slut! I’m a celebrated academic, just like him!” Tears began to slip from her eyes, “How could he not choose me?”

This woman is NOT well in the head. 

“You--you like Spencer?” I asked. 

“You don’t get to ask the fuckin’ questions here.” She pulled a knife out of her pocket and held it to the tip of my chin, “I do. So you’re gonna answer them.” Or, she started manically laughing, “I’ll kill you.” She swallowed, “And your baby.” 

I screamed at those words, “No,” I sobbed, “NO!” 

I turned my head away so I didn’t have to look at the woman in front of me, there was a timed red dot blinking. A camera. 

“Is that-- is that a camera?” 

She nodded, “I want Spencer to see you and his child die.” 

“He….No! No, please, No!” I choked on a sob and she smiled. 

“He doesn’t know.” She paced, “He doesn’t even fucking know!” 

She waltzed over to the camera and brought it closer to us, “Hey Spencer.” She began waving, “Hey Penelope. Aaron. Derek. Jennifer. Emily.” 

Her demeanor changed once more, into that of a cheerleader of all things, “So, quick recap.” Brook pursed her lips, “Spencer your twenty three year old fucktoy is pregnant. Congrats!” 

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

Y/N was two things I didn’t know she was this morning: In serious danger, and the mother of my expected child. I felt frozen in trepidation. 

We all watched in horror as Brook greeted us. All by first name. She knew exactly what she was doing and it freaked me out even more. 

“Reid, you need to step out.” Hotch grabbed my shoulder, “Now.” 

I was sick with fear and ill with rage. I sat down because I could feel my knees go weak. Hotch started again, “We know who she is. We will find her. Y/N will be alright.” He paused, “So will the baby.” 

I replayed the events of the live footage in my head, her screams of pain and terror, her trembles and confusion. I’d failed her. I’d failed her and now I knew I’d also failed our child. 

JJ sat down next to me, “Spencer, when did you meet Brook?” 

“I uh,” I wiped my face, “A year and four months ago. I did uh, I taught uh, I taught a string of seminars at Georgetown. It was biweekly. Her office was next to mine. We spoke for the first time when she offered me a coffee.” 

“What did you say?” 

“What do you think I said?” 

“Yes.” 

“Yeah, I said yeah, I fucking like coffee.” I felt instantaneously guilty for cursing, and especially at JJ but I was too frazzled for it to last long enough to apologize. 

“I know Spence, I’m sorry. Just keep going.” 

“Then, the next week, we got lunch together.” 

“Was it, you know, friendly?” 

“What are you implying Jennifer?” I snapped. 

“No Spence, we just need to know. You know that.” 

“It was-- it was just lunch. A very normal colleague to colleague lunch. We talked about the school’s history. And uh, where we grew up. It was small talk.” 

“Ok, was this the last time you spoke to her?” 

“No. There was one more time. Y/N was there.” 

“Tell me about it Spence.” She grabbed my hand, 

I breathed out, “It was the next week I taught after lunch. About two hours before my class. I was lesson planning, and Y/N was doing homework on my desk. She came in. She asked if I wanted to go get lunch. She saw y/n and--Fuck.” 

“What Spence? What?” 

“She asked me who she was, but it was like, she didn’t want y/n to know she was asking. She thought she was…”

“She thought she was what?” 

“A student.” 

“And what did you tell her?”  

“The truth. That she was my girlfriend.” 

“Did you see her anywhere else after that?”

“No. She never came by my office again. When I would see her by chance, she would scurry away. It was strange.” 

“Think really hard Spence. Did you ever see her again after you stopped teaching at Georgetown.”

I racked my brain, “Yeah. I did. It was two months ago. Three days after I proposed to y/n. She was getting a coffee at this coffee shop by y/n’s school.. I was bringing her some lunch” 

“Spencer she's been stalking you. Your proposal was the stressor.” 

“But--I’m a profiler. I would’ve noticed.” I stood up with a realization.            “What Spence?” JJ asked, standing up as well to look at me. 

“She’s been stalking her, not me. She knew I was a part of the BAU, she knew I would’ve noticed.” 

“I’ll tell the team.” 

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

A/N2:  If this doesn’t totally flop, I’ll write PT 2, that elaborates on the reader’s and Spencer’s relationship. I think through flashbacks from both Y/N and Spencer would be a cool way to explore their relationship and of course the whole reader being kidnapped thing plot could develop. Again, if you enjoyed this pls let me know!!

[yinyangswings]

Hanging off the Ledge

Fandom: Assassin's Creed Unity

Characters: Arno Dorian, Reader, Elise de la Serre (mentioned)

Pairing: Arno x femReader

Notes/Warnings: Implied thoughts of suicide, drinking, mention of vomit, used Google translate for my French so forgive me on that

Word count: 3088

Summary: You knew that there would always be trials when you fell in love with Assassin Arno Dorian. Knew that he had demons within him. What you didn't know was that your own demons would rear their heads at a vulnerable moment after an argument with him. Nor did you know that it would be Arno who finds you standing on the ledge of the South Tower of Notre-Dame, staring down at the streets of Paris.

She wandered around the streets of Paris. The moon mingled with the lamp light, the sound of men singing from the bars, dogs barking, a cat hissing from an alleyway.

She didn’t really notice.

“You’re going to get yourself killed if you keep being reckless like this, Arno!”

“For fuck’s sake Elise, I’m not a child!!”

She frowned, wrapping her arms around herself. The argument itself wasn’t a new one. She thought he was being reckless and he, as usual, didn’t appreciate being coddled. And if she was being truthful with herself, this hadn’t been the first time he had called her Elise by mistake. Right after she had died, he would call her that on a nearly daily basis. She had red hair. Elise had red hair. For a man who had been drinking away his sorrows, it hadn’t been a surprise to get the both of them confused. But as a few years had gone by and he had grieved correctly he had stopped. She had thought, naively apparently, that maybe he was beginning to move on. When they had gotten together she had thought that maybe he actually loved her. That, while Elise would always have some part of his heart, which she had expected, she could share with the ghost of his former lover.

But that seemed like it was a lost cause.

He doesn’t love you. He loves Elise. He’ll always love Elise over you. If he could save her by sacrificing you, he’d do it without hesitation.

She felt her eyes begin to burn and she roughly rubbed under them, pointedly ignoring the voice whispering in the back of her mind, but was pushing into her mind like a nail. She slowed when she found herself in front of Notre-Dame, the large building looming in the square. It wasn’t a church anymore. Some cult now ran it. The Cult of Supreme Being, if she remembered correctly. It was dark, signifying no one was likely in there.

Perfect.

She worked the door open and slid into the shadowed building. She remembered being a child and coming here once with her father and brother. It had been a beautiful cathedral, the stained glass glistening down upon the pews, the statues, the soft hymns of the choir.

She had gotten in trouble for staring too long, but she couldn’t help it. It had been a comfort for her.

It was now a shadow of what it once was. A daily reminder of the mistakes of this country. Of the change that had happened.

Just like you. You’re a mistake.

She found herself walking up the stairs in the back, her footsteps echoing despite being as quiet as she could. Several staircases, unlocking some doors, and climbing more stairs later she found herself in one of the towers, staring at the bells.

It was so quiet, only the wind passing through the room seemed to sing its song. She slid her hand across the one bell near her, feeling the chill of bronze soak into her hand. She jumped when her foot kicked something and she looked down to see a small crate of...wine bottles?

“Oh for God’s sake. Really?” She muttered, bending down to look at it more closely. It looked like someone had had the idea that no one would look for wine in an abandoned church.

Well...at least no one who wasn’t an assassin and knew how to pick locks.

She hesitated for a moment before she flipped the bottle over and looked at the label. It wasn’t even a good year. But it would do. She worked the cork out and took a swig, grimacing at the taste. She took another swig.

You’re useless. It’s no wonder your father died hating your existence. Why your brother died hating you.

And another.

You’re a disgrace to the Creed and the Brotherhood.

And another. The wine tasted bitter and she knew that she should stop, but it was helping with the pain, numbing it.

Arno will never love you. He will never see you as anything more than a replacement.

She coughed violently as she choked on the wine, not able to tell if the burn in her eyes was because of that or something else. She sank back, sniffling slightly and coughing at the burn. The voice was relentless.

Usually she could ignore it, plaster on a smile and carry on her day. But now…

Now…

Wouldn’t it be better if you just ended it?

As though to bolster the suggestion a sharp breeze rushed past her, creating a mournful sound through the tower she was in and she looked towards the opening.

And she took a step forward.

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

Arno Dorian was not in the greatest of moods as he jumped from roof to roof. The argument was still fresh in his mind. He understood Y/N’s point of view on the whole thing, but he felt that he wasn’t a child that needed to be coddled. He was an assassin, just like her. He hadn’t appreciated her scolding him, but looking back it hadn’t been a critique but more of a worry of hers. And he yelled at her, making her leave their room and the Café. Which was why he was running around Paris like a lunatic in the middle of the night looking for her to apologize. He had considered waiting at the Café but after three hours, he began to grow worried. Even at her angriest, she hadn’t been gone that long.

His desperation was growing in stature when she wasn’t in any of her normal spots that she would go to. He was about to head back and see if she had made it back to the Café when the moon peeked out of the clouds and illuminated Notre-Dame. He spotted a flash of red on the top of the South Tower. He stumbled to a stop, looking up, squinting to get a good look, before hurrying over to the church, making short work of getting to the top.

Sure enough it was Y/N, sitting on the railing of the tower. She glanced over her shoulder, before looking back out towards the city.

“Bonjour Arno.”

“There you are.” He huffed, landing on the roof of the tower, a frown on his face. He took a step and blinked as he kicked a wine bottle, watching it roll away from him.

“...Fancy a drink tonight?”

“Casse-toi. Like you’re any better.” Y/N slurred, taking another swig from another wine bottle, swaying slightly in the wind.

“Y/N, get off the ledge.” Arno said evenly, despite his heart threatening to pound its way out of his chest. “You’ll fall, Cherié.”

She cackled, though there didn’t seem to be any humor in her voice.

“Wouldn’t that be…” She hiccuped. “Wouldn’t that be une tragédie? I’m sure my funeral would have a grand total of...one attendee; moi! They might even bury me, or they’ll just dump my body into the Seine.”

She laughed again though he frowned.

“Y/N.”

She glared at him, before rolling her eyes, and pointedly ignoring him, taking a swig from the bottle in her hand. She was silent, staring at the few people of Paris wandering around, unaware of the two assassins sitting above them.

“Suppose I’d need to avoid some random passerby though, oui? Can’t...can’t hurt an innocent because of the Creed.”

It was as if cold water had been dumped on him.

She couldn’t mean...she wasn’t seriously considering...

“Y/N, get off the ledge.”

It wasn’t a gentle request anymore. She scoffed, standing like a child who was being called home during a riveting game of tag and didn’t want to. She swayed and stumbled on it, drawing closer to the edge.

“And if I do that by jumping off? No stacks of hay down there that I can see.” She asked good naturedly, her voice amazingly calm.

“Y/N, don’t joke like that.”

“Who’s saying I’m joking?” She hummed, twirling in an unsteady circle, swaying backwards. Arno dashed forward, grabbing her arm and yanking her back onto the roof, the bottle falling out of her hand and disappearing over the edge. He could only hope it didn’t hit anyone below as his arms folded around her, holding her close as she began to fight against him.

“Avez-vous perdu la raison?” He snapped. “Why would you even consider killing yourself?!”

“Because the place would be better without me!”

Arno staggered backwards as she kicked at his legs, his mind reeling, trying to catch up with the situation, but unable to comprehend it.

“What are you talking about?! Do you know how devastated we’d be if you died?!”

“Who, Arno? Who would fucking miss me!?” She cried, fighting against him. “My family is gone, Arno! My brother died hating me because of the reason I was even brought into this world! Father hated me because I killed Mother! Name on fucking person who would care if my brains splattered on the steps of Notre-Dame below!”

“Me!”

To that she let out a laugh that could have been a sob.

“You? YOU!?” Her voice went into hysterics. “You don’t give a damn about me! You never did!”

“Y/N, what’s gotten into you!? Of course I-”

“I’M NOT ELISE!”

He went still and he released her in shock. She stumbled away, but didn’t attempt to jump off the ledge again. She seemed to curl into herself, tears sliding down her face as she looked at him.

“You think...you think I’m stupid? Or blind? You don’t think I don’t know that you see Elise every fucking time I fucking turn and you see my hair, or when we spar, or...or argue? You think I’m that blind to not see that ache in your eyes every damn time you even look at me?? For fuck’s sake Arno, you’ve called me her damn name tonight!” She inhaled sharply, trying to stop crying, but failing. His eyes darted from side to side, replaying the argument earlier in his mind, before his eyes widened.

“Y/N, I didn’t-”

“Do you know how much it hurts trying to pretend I’m happy, when I’m reminded daily just how unnecessary and unwanted I am in this world? How much better you and this world would be without me? You want Elise back so much but I’m not Elise. I can’t be her. I can’t even begin to compare to her.” She whimpered. “I’m an assassin, but I was literally only born to be that because my brother was too sickly to be one. And despite that, despite working day in and day out to prove to him I could be a good assassin, I know that my father didn’t even want me! So...so why even bother being here? No one wants me, Arno. I’m just...just this big mistake...I...I…”

“Ma Cherié…” He said, his voice suddenly rough and he hurried over to her, pulling her to him again. She struggled for a moment, beating at his chest to get him to let go. He did not, digging his hand into her hair to keep her still. “Ma Cherié, no.”

“Let go, Arno!”

“No. Not until you listen to me.” He said. “I know I make mistakes. Too many to count. I hurt you so much without even realizing it. And you are the most patient woman to not murder me in my sleep for that.” He trailed off, swallowing noisily, “Oui, there are times I think about Elise, and wonder what life would be if she was still alive, and oui sometimes there are moments where I see her in you.”

She struggled against him again and he thanked the wine running through her right now. At least he could get her to listen to him.

“But that doesn’t mean I’d be better off without you. That I don’t want you here.”

She went still.

“I love you Cherié. I love you so much. You don’t deserve all this pain and weight I’ve put on your shoulders. Especially with Elise. There are similarities between the two of you, but the differences outweigh them. Christ...I don’t deserve you. I don’t deserve anything you give me.”

He moved her head away, cupping her face in his hands, brushing away the tears that were sliding down her cheeks.

“I don’t deserve waking up with you curled up to me and if I try to leave the bed, you hold onto me because it’s not yet time to wake up in your mind. I don’t deserve listening to you hum as you’re fixing a stitch in our robes while leaning against me, or your laughter when you’re sparring and you’ve pinned me. I don’t deserve having you scold me for being an idiot on a mission, yet having my back on said mission. I don’t deserve any of that.”

She stared at him and he gave a desperate laugh, his eyes glittering in tears.

“But even though I don’t deserve it, every day you bless me with those tiny memories. How could I be better off without you?”

She inhaled sharply, tears sliding down her cheeks. She let out a soft keening sound, closing her eyes tightly as a sob tore out of her throat, silencing the voice that was begging her to just pivot and jump.

“I can’t Arno...I just...I…I...I don’t know what to do.”

She heard him inhale shakily and felt him kiss her brow. He seemed to be shaking as well. He pulled her back into a hug, and she didn’t resist this time, just sobbing, face pressed into his shoulder.

“...Let’s go home.” His voice whispered into her ear after several minutes, rough as though he was holding back emotions. She nodded weakly, and he lifted her and carried her away. Before she could even object, he was walking down the stairs and past the bells of Notre-Dame.

She didn’t remember how exactly they got back to the Café Theatrë. She did remember having to stop several times in alleyways to puke her guts out from all that damn wine she drank. She remembered that Arno’s touch never seemed to vanish. Whether it was holding her hair away from the vomit, rubbing her back as she heaved, or holding her close to make sure she didn’t fall flat on her face when she stumbled away, he was always touching her.

The last thing she really remembered was going up the stairs to their room, being laid down on the bed and feeling a kiss against her temple. The next thing she knew, the sun was beaming into the room and her head felt like it had been used as a drum.

She let out a groan and curled up under the blanket, trying to rid herself of the headache. Distantly she heard a soft chuckle and then the clink of a cup on the nightstand.

“Can’t say I envy you. I know from experience it isn’t fun. Though this is a change in roles from what I usually remember.” Arno’s voice said softly. She muttered an expletive and peeked her head out from the covers. Arno sat down on the edge of the bed, offering a smile.

“Whatimeizzit?”

“It’s close to noon. I figured with the amount of drinking you did last night, you earned your sleep.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with the blanket again.

“Come on. Let’s get some food into you. I promise you’ll feel much better.”

“If I ever go towards a wine bottle again, you are free to spank me.” She muttered, finally leaving the cocoon of blankets and Arno smiled.

“Oui m'dame. Granted, while it is a tempting offer, I have a feeling that’s not going to happen anytime soon.” He said and she snorted, instantly regretting it and cursed under her breath. He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before handing her a pastry.

“Eat.”

She wasn’t really hungry, but nibbled on it anyways, glancing over at him as he watched her. He was just staring at her as though making sure this wasn’t a dream and she was actually sitting in their bed alive and well, despite the hangover. He had dark bags under his eyes, which were curiously bloodshot. He was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing the night before. Almost as if he hadn’t...

“Did you stay up the entire night?” She muttered in surprise, realization dawning slowly in her hungover brain.

“...I wanted to make sure you didn’t try and leave to go back to Notre-Dame.” He finally said and she grimaced, looking away.

"Je suis désolé, Arno. I didn’t-”

“No! No, don’t apologize...just...is that the first time you’ve...that you’ve considered that?”

She shrugged.

“I’ve never gone as far as I did last night...but there’s always that voice in the back of my head saying that everyone would be better off if I wasn’t around...I don’t usually listen to it. But it was just...so loud last night. It drowned everything else out.”

“Y/N…”

She shifted away, embarrassed. He swallowed roughly before cupping her face, brushing a thumb against her cheek bone. She leaned into his touch, finally looking up at him.

“If it does happen again, if that voice becomes too loud?” He asked softly. “Find me. I meant what I said last night. I love you. I don’t deserve you, but I love you. And I’ll spend every day I have remaining telling you that. So find me, and I’ll put to rest any worry you have.”

She nodded, closing her eyes as he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and then very delicately her lips, before resting his forehead against hers.

It wasn’t a clean fix. There were still problems that needed to be discussed. Issues that needed to be talked about. In the future he would have nightmares of wondering what if he hadn’t gone looking for her, if the next day they had found her body at the steps of Notre-Dame, and waking up in a cold sweat to check and see if she was still there next to him, still breathing. For a while after, she couldn’t go near Notre-Dame, couldn’t even take a sip of wine before her stomach revolted at the contents because it reminded her of that night.

But right then and there, it didn’t matter.

She was sitting there breathing, and in his arms.

And that was all Arno Dorian cared about.

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

Translations:

Bonjour : Hello

Casse-toi: Fuck off

Cherié: Sweetheart

Une tragédie: A tragedy

Moi: Me

Oui: Yes

Avez-vous perdu la raison: Have you lost your mind?

Ma Cherié: My Sweetheart

Oui m'dame: Yes Ma'am

Je suis désolé: I am sorry

[brockadoodles]

Let me tell you that I love you (4 +1) - b. boeser

AN: Burn this gif onto my grave honestly. BUT ANYWAYS. Uh decided to write during the Canucks game just in case they gave me pain. And they didn’t, and I finished something. A short sweet little 4+1 for you all. I haven’t written one of these in forever, so i really tried to keep each snippet short. Let me know what you think :)

Word Count: 3433

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol briefly 

One 

Brock Boeser was an irremediable fucking romantic. He was the guy who was always more than willing to cozy up on a rainy day with a tragic Nicholas Sparks-esque movie on in the background, never shy at admitting that something as achingly faux romantic as The Notebook could make him weep. He was the guy that all of the cliches were written about, the over sensitive Pisces who stitched his heart on the inside of his left sleeve, ready and eager to give it to someone. That someone, the one who he wanted to give his entire soul to over the last year had become you. 

You were someone he had met by accident, a romantic comedy worthy moment where you both had bonded helplessly at some overly fancy bar where you both had been stood up on dates. He felt stiff in his suit jacket, and you were there in that beautiful navy piece that had him wondering how the stars and planets had aligned in such a way that he was lucky enough to be half enjoying a drink next to you. You had smiled at him, opening the gates for a shitty date turned into a memory he couldn’t wait to tell the story of in twenty five years. One chance meeting had become a date, and more dates after that until over the summer he was bringing you home to meet his parents, where he told you that he loved you for the first time. 

Brock was nervous to take you home but it wasn’t because there was an underlying fear that his family wouldn’t see all of the things in you that he did. He was apprehensive because he knew the backstory of his own life was enough baggage to send someone away, and it had. He had gone through this before, bringing someone home who didn’t want to bear the burden of what life with Brock Boeser actually meant and that loss had shaped his perspective on relationships. Bringing you home was hard, because he wanted so desperately for this to work out, and if you couldn’t take on that baggage, he knew that it wouldn’t. 

Brock felt like he had that nervousness in his chest and stomach for the whole first twenty four hours that you were there. You had flown in late, settling into bed and falling right to sleep next to him. You always found a way to sleep, whereas he was consciously restless late into the witching hour, anxious about the next day where you would be actually meeting his family for the first time. 

He had spent so long waiting for the other shoe to drop, that when you got along seamlessly with his dad, he was still uncontrollably on edge. He was watching wordlessly as you sat out on the porch with Duke, a smile on your face as you listened to him, nodding and responding with Easton comfortably playing in your lap. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned, seeing his mom with a comforting expression on her face.

“She’s great, Brock. Stop waiting for the bad.” She murmured. Brock turned back to look outside, where you were just reaching a hand to his dad’s wrist and laughing. He felt like the air was exhaling from his lungs the longer he let his mom’s words marinate in his mind. Brock opened the slider door and stepped outside, slowly walking over and pressing a soft kiss to his dad’s cheek, who in return patted his hand reassuringly. He then moved to you, settling into the wicker chair next to you and letting you hand over his nephew who was now reaching for him. As you handed Easton over, it was like everything clicked into place for him. This was what he wanted one day with you, passing over your own child with the sun setting over the lake and family all around. That was the first time he realized that he had finally figured out what love meant, because the feeling struck him harshly. He loved you, and instead of overthinking the feeling, he told you.

“I love you.” He murmured, softly enough that only you could hear it. Your eyes widened and your mouth hung open as if he could see every thought that was stampeding through your mind. He recoiled a bit, diverting his eyes from yours and swallowing back the feelings he had just let escape without thinking about the consequences. You smiled awkwardly, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers together. You brought his hand to your lips and pressed a soft kiss to it, your non verbal way of not reciprocating. It wasn’t until you were alone that you explained to him you just weren’t ready yet, a conversation that felt like a punch to his gut but that he bore with patience and understanding. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple after, reassuring you that he understood what you were saying. You didn’t not love him, you just weren’t there yet, something he could have the patience to wait for. 

Two

The second time that Brock shared with you that he loved you was by accident. It was a classic case of drunk words revealing sober thoughts. Not that his love for you was a secret that he was trying to keep, but instead it was a closely locked away feeling that he was trying to wait to share again until you gave him the go ahead. The wait had been eating him up inside, a small sense of rejection had made a home out of his heart after telling you the first time didn’t go how he envisioned. He loved you, he was so beyond in love with you that he wished for nothing more than to be able to tell you that every second of every day. But you weren’t ready, and his sober self knew that, his wine drunk self, did not.  

It was your birthday and Vancouver had blessed (or cursed, according to most of the people that lived there) you with a dusting of snow. It was nowhere near what Brock was used to from growing up in Minnesota. He was used to long winters where the lake would be a solid sheet of ice that he and his buddies could spend their days skating on, with sometimes over a foot of snow on the ground. 

Vancouver snow was a different story. The small amount was enough to close businesses early, and cause the city to almost shut down until the snow was gone. The mere 5 inches was a lot to people in the pacific northwest, so he watched you with a fond expression as you dragged him down to the park that was near his condo, a pom pom beanie on your head and one of his jackets wrapped around you. 

You both had knocked back almost two bottles of wine, and there was a hazy aura surrounding you as he watched you twirl around with your arms out, catching snowflakes in your hair. Brock grabbed your hand and pulled you into his chest, kissing your forehead and then your nose and cheeks that were cold from the snow. 

“What are you doing?” You giggled, bringing your hand up to rest on his cheek as he looked at you. God, you were his entire fucking world, and once again he didn’t think before opening the box to that thought he had buried in his heart from the summer, the words slipping from his lips before any sense of sobriety could catch up to him. 

“I love you.” He whispered, a soft smile tugging at his lips and his eyes searching yours, hoping for a different outcome than the first time just a few months prior. You stepped back from him, bracing your hands on his arms and shifting your gaze away, something that sobered him up completely. 

“I’m not ready.” You mumbled, a sad expression behind your eyes that Brock wished wasn’t there. He tugged you closer into his chest, another soft kiss to your temple as he ran a hand along your back.

“Take as long as you need.” Brock reassured you, more than willing to live by that promise. You were worth any wait that he had to endure.  

Three 

Playoffs were Brock’s favorite part of his job. The rush of the do-or-die series was something that every player loved. He felt like playoffs were the time where his real skills came into view, where he stood on his own as a talented forward instead of in the shadows wondering where his place was. It wasn’t that Brock was insecure per say, he just always felt like he had something to prove, mainly to himself. The Canucks had battled through all of the rounds, knocking out their opponents, leading them here to the Western Conference Finals against Vegas. It was game seven, the last hurdle before playing for the cup, absolutely do-or-die for this season.  

It was everything Brock had been striving towards. It wasn’t a Stanley Cup, but god in that moment it may as well have felt like one. A game seven game winning goal, sending the team to the finals. Every year he had spent plagued with injuries, wondering if he would ever get back to that spot he had been at his rookie year, wondering if he’d ever actually feel like he deserved to be a part of that core that were the faces scattered on the outside of Rogers Arena. He nearly couldn't breathe as the puck passed by Marc Andre Fleury, hitting the back of the net and sounding off the familiar goal horn. Elias and JT were quick to pile on top of him, nearly knocking him backwards into the boards as the rest of the team ran out onto the ice. This was everything he had hoped for, a chance to play for the Stanley Cup and he was in tears knowing it was his goal that sent him there. 

After the game, all he wanted was to find you. He raced out of the locker room, past the press area where thankfully he still had twenty minutes before he needed to sit down for his interviews. He ran out into the tunnel, hair still slightly damp as he searched for you. It didn’t take him long to find you, you were standing near Holly. You turned to face him just as he rounded the corner into your line of view. He watched as you touched Holly’s arm, saying something to her that he wasn’t close enough to read on your lips. You nearly jogged up to him, jumping into his arms hard and sending him backwards as he braced for your impact. 

The two of you stood there for a moment, ignoring the entire commotion around you as some of his other teammates were cheering and coming out. He didn’t care about any of it, he cared about you. You were the one who was there for the worst season of his career, and sharing this win with you was almost more special than the win itself. You grabbed the back of his neck and kissed him hard, peppering kisses after. Brock took this as his moment, another moment where he could share with you just how he felt.

“I love you, I love you, holy shit, I fucking love you.” He mumbled against your lips. You froze slightly in his arms, hesitating before you crashed your lips back into his, hopefully distracting him from the uneasy feeling in your chest.

“I am so proud of you, Brock.” You whispered. He just looked at you and smiled, ignoring the slight feeling of letdown he felt at your lack of reciprocation. You weren’t ready, and he was okay with that. Instead of dwelling he just kissed you one last time to your lips and then your temple, holding you close before he went to answer questions from people he didn’t care to answer to before you all were going to celebrate. The Canucks didn’t win the cup that year, and his first thought after watching the Flyers rush out and hoist the coveted trophy was that maybe the disappointment would fade once he got home to you. 

Four

Brock Boeser was a fucking romantic, and there was nothing more romantic to him than a wedding. It didn’t matter how many he watched in movies, or attended as he got older and his friends and teammates started getting married. No matter who it was, there was something that calmed him about seeing two people so in love and committing to that for their lives. He always pictured his wedding, except it was only ever from his perspective. In his daydreams, he never saw someone walking down the aisle toward him, he only saw himself standing there with tears in his eyes and a smile on his face as he waited for whoever that person was to get to him. It wasn’t until he loved you that the perspective changed, and he saw himself looking at you walking toward him. 

It was Troy and Emma’s wedding, a small gathering just outside of the city and Brock was in a good mood all day. He was humming softly as he drove the two of you there, a smile permanently settled on his lips as the soft sounds of Kodaline came through the speakers of the car. He had one hand secured with yours in your lap and occasionally he glanced over at you, wondering how in the hell he got so lucky to still have you. 

The wedding was beautiful, Troy and Emma both cried softly as they went through their vows, cementing their relationship with that final first kiss as the small group of close friends and families sat in the gazebo in attendance. Brock held your hand the entire time, feeling his chest tighten when you reached up and kissed the back of it just as the vows were being shared. 

He loved weddings, but going to one with you had him tumbling back toward that locked away feeling in his chest. The romantic atmosphere clouded his judgement and dared it to come out for another time to share it with you. Brock made a mental note to stop getting ahead of himself, to stop planning out an entire future with you when you weren’t ready to even say you loved him yet. He tried to push the anxiety away, the feeling that maybe he was the one holding you back, maybe he was too sensitive or putting too much pressure on you to say it back, even though he had only let it slip less than a handful of times. He swore that sometimes he felt it. Sometimes you would look at him just long enough, with your lips pursed and the words sitting right there as he waited, but then you would falter and shake your head a bit, playing the moment off with a smile. He counted so many of those times and they were casting doubt into his chest that maybe he was there planning an entire future with someone who would never realistically be ready, no matter how hard he wanted you to be.  

You could tell that he was in his head, something about the way he was carrying himself through the day had you worried. You watched as his eyes wandered around the reception hall. He was watching everyone carefully and you knew him so well by now that it felt like you were almost inside his head with him. Only instead of letting you hear what was running through his mind, there was a locked door keeping you out. Brock shifted back to face you, grabbing your hand once more and helping you up.

“Dance with me?” He asked. Brock pulled you into his chest, wrapping an arm around your waist as he swayed slowly with you, not paying attention to much around him other than you. He was feeling grateful for a lot of things, grateful that he was able to share such a special day with some of his closest friends, grateful that now the picture of this with you was so clear in his mind, and grateful that you were there with him, dancing slowly around the room. Brock closed his eyes for a moment as you leaned your head into his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as he moved you around. He pictured all of it, the flower crown you’d probably wear, the smile on your face, and the tears in his own eyes that he would have watching as you came toward him. He pictured every last detail, a vivid dream that he was set on becoming a reality now. 

“I love you.” He hummed, letting his eyes open slowly as you lifted your head. You didn’t even have to say you weren’t ready this time, the slight shift of your eyes had unfortunately become something that Brock was learning all too well. He did what he always did though, he pressed a soft kiss to your temple and tucked the box of love back inside, sighing softly to himself and wishing that one day you’d take it.  

Plus One

Brock loved you in all the ways that he ever thought that he could love someone, down to each subtlety of your demeanor and personality. He loved the way you laughed at his bad jokes, the way that you were patient with his dad, and the way you cared so much about the health of the world. But he also loved the bad things, the little annoyances that came with navigating a relationship that was long distance part time, the way you’d sometimes leave a mess at his place, hitting a nerve after a tough loss, he loved all of those things because that’s what made you human and your relationship normal.

This morning wasn’t anything special, there was no event the previous night that had kept you out late. There was no celebration of any kind. You had come over for dinner and stayed, falling asleep tucked under his arm with Coolie and Milo snuggled at your feet. This no doubt was Brock’s favorite way to wake up, and he’d do it for a lifetime as soon as you’d let him. 

Brock always woke up before you, he was often an early riser and whenever you were there he found himself settling in and watching you sleep for just a few moments before he would slowly roll away from you to get up and make coffee. This morning was no different. His fingers drummed along your hip as your eyes fluttered open and his chest filled with the same feeling he only ever imagined existed in an alternate reality. You smiled softly and tucked yourself closer into his chest, a soft and groggy  good morning escaping from your lips. He didn’t have time to think about if you were on his page, he was already writing the rest of the book with you. 

“I love you.” He said. 

He supposed it was just another instance added to the shortlist in his mind of attempts at telling you he loved you. Brock was now zero for four, more than a strikeout on the scoreboard, but Brock was also patient, and didn’t mind a late bottom of the 9th inning comeback if it meant his love was finally reciprocated. He didn’t mind telling you he loved you, because he did, but a small part of his heart cracked each time you smiled and nodded in favor of saying those three words back that he’d do anything to hear. Each kiss to the temple after masking that crack in his chest that was widening, possibly too far to fill in with hope much longer. 

Except this time, your smile wasn’t forced. There wasn’t a nervousness behind your eyes, there was something else. You leaned into him, kissing him softly while your hand tugged at the ends of his hair. Something felt different in this kiss, a calm wave settling into his chest instead of the usual feeling that Brock felt from the previous times he shared this with you. You pulled back, smiling at him brightly. 

“I love you, too.” And those words that fell from your lips didn’t hold a flame to any of the hopeless romances he not so secretly liked to enjoy, he now had the real thing. 

[kmorales1]

Office Affairs

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Rating: Explicit (Anyone under 18, go away, thanks.)

Warnings: Uh, unprotected sex(this is fiction please wrap it before you tap it), i'm bad at this. One(1) mention of spit(whoops).

A note: Hey, so I wrote this in an hour and (maybe) a half. This entire thing is purely based off my intense yearning for Javi the past few days(more like weeks). Also he's incredibly hard to write for so I hope I was able to capture his character. This is also my first time writing smut, let alone posting it. Be gentle with your critics lmao. It might not be entirely cohesive but I tried really hard but anyway this is what my brain popped out.

Javier Peña is the type of guy to take you home for a quick fuck, cuddle you like he’s in love with you, and then leave an hour later without barely a glance in your direction. You know this, you’d heard the whispers about him in the embassy when you were making your way to the filing room, or to the break room for your afternoon lunch.

And you believed them.

The first night Javier took you home you were 99% sure that you’d get the best fuck of your life out of him and then he’d be gone before you could even ask him to stay the night. And let’s be honest you wanted him to stay the night. To feel him pressed against you, his broad chest against your back, his breath fanning over the back of your neck. God, you yearned for that man. Or maybe just a man, it’d been a while.

You weren’t entirely wrong though, you did get the best fuck of your life out of him, but you also found the Javier that was sprawled in your bed, a lit cigarette between his lips, wasn’t the same man he was in the daylight of the office.

He was quieter, soft spoken, almost open.

The first few times he had stayed for a bit after to lay pressed beside you talking about work and you had even managed to pull a few details about his life back home. A few. But those few details only left you craving more, and who could blame you. He was intoxicating. You hadn’t been expecting it and now that you saw it, you wanted more.

“You know, you’re different like this.”

You had practically whispered the words to him, a little scared you might somehow push him back into the person he was in the light of day. But he only offered you something almost like a smile and leaned forward to press his lips to yours.

“I think, maybe i’m just different with you.”

He didn’t elaborate or say anything more, and you didn’t say anything in response. Cause what could you say? He’d pressed you open into the mattress a few minutes later his head between your thighs. Taking you apart slowly whispering filthy things as he brought you over the edge.

Your heart clenched as he laid his head on your thigh afterwards, his hair an unruly mess.

You wanted him like this all the time.

You weren’t naïve,though. So you didn’t think much of the way he laid beside you, or the things he said to you. He could feed any pretty woman words to make them feel special, and no matter how much you wanted to be different, something told you weren’t.

That became apparent when you started seeing less of Javier and hearing more about his informants and the other women he would bring home some nights. You weren’t mad, nor jealous, but you weren’t exactly fine either.

Coming home from a late night at work you had passed him and who you assumed was one of those said people that were whispered about. She was laughing at something, his arm locked tight around her waist guiding her down the hall. His face didn’t match hers but he certainly didn’t look unhappy, and when you crossed their path trying hurriedly to get into your apartment before seeing something you didn’t want to, he barely spared you a side glance.

Fine.

You stopped giving him the attention he silently would ask for in the daytime. His gaze burning hot on your body as you silently sipped your tea in the corner of the break room. Or the way he would brush your shoulder as he passed your desk. It’s almost laughable how he could seemingly seek your attention out one minute and then act like you didn’t exist the next. You didn’t play into it and things were fine.

Until they weren’t.

“You’re ignoring me, princesa.”

He’s got you cornered in the filing room his broad form practically towering over you. This is the closest you’ve been to him since you’d seen him that night, or the occasional time he would purposeful bump into you in the office.

“Hello Javi,” You barely managed to hold onto the papers in your hands. His close proximity to you slightly knocking you off center. You weren’t entirely lying when you said things were fine, but him being so close and the smell of him nearly overpowering was reminding you of the parts that were exactly not fine.

“I’m sorry i’ve been so busy.”

That’s a lie. You know it’s a lie, he knows it’s a lie. Things had been incredibly slow the past couple of weeks. Pablo in hiding from a recent raid that hit a little too close to home.

“I think we both know that’s a lie,”

And oh, is his voice a little breathier.

You curse yourself quietly, because you’re supposed to be putting this behind you. This man only sought you out when he felt like it when he was bored. But the way he’s pressed so close to you, if you just leaned forward a tiny bit. His eyes are skimming over your face, like he’s taking in the changes he’s missed in the past few weeks he hasn’t seen you.

There’s a tilt of his head and a small push forward and his lips are a near inch away from yours.

“Don’t you miss me, baby?”

Your knees nearly buckle.

He called you that exactly one time before. A rough raid with Carrillo had him stumbling into your apartment at nearly 1 am, luckily you had just gotten home from work and were still awake. His shirt was damp with sweat, the color of it slightly darker than the original pink, a stray mark of blood on his face- you later found out wasn’t his. He’d been needy, the way he had pressed you into the counter in your kitchen, fucked you within an inch of your life it felt like. Growling filthy things into your ear, praising you, before pulling you roughly to the floor(his back didn’t forgive him for days after that) and sliding you onto him. You’d rode him hard and fast nearly sobbing your release. He’d came up to cradle you to him. Whispering baby and your name reverently into your hair. You didn’t talk about it, what had made him so frantic. You had to practically peel yourself away from him and when you did it had broken the spell. He was up, fixing his jeans, kissing your forehead and then he was gone out the door before you could even get words out.

Javier whispering your name brings you back to the present, his eyes are locked on your lips and fuck-

Your fingers are dropping the papers and urgently sliding up his back to curl in his hair, pulling him the last bit of distance to bring his mouth to yours.

You’ll tell him later that you don’t forgive him for that debacle with the woman he brought home with him and you’ll also tell him the other things that have been pent up for the past almost month. And if he doesn’t like it oh well, but god right now all you want is to be fucked by this infuriating man.

“Javi-“

Your plea is broken as his tongue swipes the inside of your mouth his hands holding firmly to your hips.

“Javi please”

He shushes you, his leg coming to press between your thighs, right against where you want him the most and you nearly keen at the relief it gives. His thigh flexes and applies just the pressure to send your hips sliding forward.

“Quiet, princesa you don’t want anyone to hear,”

Oh fuck. You’re at work right now. You’re at work fuck. You’re at work. You remind yourself again.

One more time you’re at work-

But no one really comes back here. (that’s a lie)

His hands are guiding your hips roughly, and you’re practically riding his thigh. The feeling is too much and not enough all at once.

“Anything, Javi please.”

You’re breathless whimper has him growling under his breath as he pushes you deeper into the cabinets. His hands tear your skirt out of the way, pushing your panties aside before dipping his fingers into your center.

“Baby, fuck you’re so wet,”

His fingers leave you momentarily to slide into his mouth. The hum that leaves him is enough to push a wave of slick out of you, and you eagerly grip any part of him you can reach.

“Is this for me? You have missed me,”

The smug look on his face makes you want to roll your eyes, and you would if he wasn’t currently sliding his fingers back into you and curling them just like that-

“Fuck! Javi,”

The hand that is grasping your hips leaves to hurriedly slap a hand over your mouth. His eyes are burning into yours his teeth bared slightly.

“I said quiet, do you want our coworkers seeing how much a slut you are for me?”

He licks a line up the side of your neck before coming to suckle and bite lightly on your ear.

“Youd like it wouldn’t you?”

You’re practically dripping at his words, the squelching noise from his fingers fucking into you roughly is nearly obscene. You’re so close you could cry, if he could just give a little more.

“More,”

It’s a desperate plea for anything and it’s slightly muffled by his hand but he gets the message. His hand drops and you’re caught off guard by him roughly undoing his belt and pushing his pants down enough for his cock to spring free.

You nearly moan at the sight, long and thick with precum gathering at the tip. Fuck it’s been so long you want to taste. But he’s got you shoved back up against the nearest filing cabinet, his hand back over your mouth as he nudges his cock against your clit.

You keen at the slight pressure it gives before you jerk at the feeling of him sliding into you fully his hips flush to yours.

“Fuck, hermosa,” his teeth are clenched tight the cords of his neck strained as he whispers praises into your ear.

"Baby you’re so tight, missed you.”

You don’t even have time to process the last part before he’s almost urgently pulling out to slam back in. You want to worry about the noises that are being made but just as the thought comes in it’s gone. He’s fucking into you hard, his hand still covering your mouth tightly, trying hard to mask the moans that are escaping you. The slight jingle of his belt buckle as he roughly pounds into you shouldn’t be as erotic as it is. His head is pressed to your shoulder and you can feel the air from his mouth as he pants.

You’re so close you can practically feel yourself dripping down your thighs. One of your hands is curled tightly in his hair and the other snakes down your body to rub between your clit. Your breath is coming out harsh from your nose meeting the warm skin of his hand and god the thought of his hand over your mouth as he fucks you is so much you think you might come now.

But then his hand slips away and he’s sliding it in your hair to tilt your head back. Baring his teeth he gives one particularly hard thrust before demanding.

“Open.”

Immediately your mouth snaps open and he spits.

"Fucking swallow it."

You do, quickly before you lift eagerly to meet his mouth, teeth clinking harshly.

“Javi i’m gonna come-“

He’s pulling back, whispering urgently in your ear .

"Do it baby, do it now. Cum for me."

You’re pushing to meet his thrusts hurriedly chasing the orgasm you feel tightening in your stomach.

“I said now,” The harshness in his voice sends you reeling. You keen, a little too loudly to be in your office building, the thread snapping as you tumble over the edge. Your cunt clenching hard around him. Somewhere through the haze you feel Javier bite roughly into your shoulder and his cock jerk inside of you as he cums.

His hands are sliding around you to pull you into him his face meeting your neck as he pants, his cock softening inside of you. There’s a pleasant sounding hum from him as you card your fingers through his hair your nails scratching lazily at his scalp. The room is humid and sticky you suddenly come back to yourself, sinking down from your post orgasm high.

“Javier,”

The change in your voice has him pulling back to look at you before his eyes widen in understanding.

Yes, basking in the after sex glow isn’t the best idea at the moment.

“We can talk after work okay?”

There’s a nod from him before he’s sliding out of you with a hiss and tucking himself back into his jeans. And there’s a lot to talk about, he isn’t off the hook, and you’ve got to think it over because you know you have technically no right to even be upset.

You’re adjusting your skirt when you feel him cup your cheek.

“I really did miss you.”

Its said quietly, almost like it’s a secret.

And momentarily, you forget everything you need to be confused about with him.

"I missed you too."

[jungkookiebus]

Grain of Sand | jjk

Genre: smut x fluff x established relationship x slice of life Pairing: blind!jjk x reader Rating: 18+ Word Count: 4.2k Warnings: cunnilingus, (light) ass play, fingering, jungkook fucks you against the kitchen sink so i guess that can be a warning, creampie Summary: Blind since the age of 18 from a genetic disorder, Jungkook walked through life as if he never lost it, but on one fateful day seven years ago he literally almost runs into you. He fell in love nearly immediately. Fast forward to the present and it’s just another day in your quiet life with him by your side.

Bright, warm sunshine filled the hallway of your home from the windows that lined the wall. It was one of the reasons you picked this house. You imagined hanging pictures up on the wall for the morning sun to rise upon and, at night, you could still easily see them in the light of the moon. And that’s exactly what you did when you moved in two years ago. Jungkook walked ahead of you, fingers delicately skimming the wall right beneath the pictures. The wall there looked more worn than the rest, a little oily sheen to it from his fingertips. Walls all over your home had these trails. They were like highways for him, directing him to the living room, kitchen, and every room in between. Sometimes, like now, you’d run your fingers along his path lovingly, grazing your fingers underneath your wedding photo.

“What would you like for breakfast?” he asked, and you saw as he tilted his head a little, knowing you were following quietly behind him.

You hummed in thought. You never really were that hungry as soon as you woke up, but the smell of breakfast always made your stomach growl.

“What about…eggs and bacon?”

“Toast?”

“Oh, yes, Taehyung gave us some fresh strawberry jam he made.”

He hummed in a content agreement, turning the corner ahead of you, two fingers brushing the dull edge as he continued down the hallway. The light overhead was still off, and the early morning sun had yet to reach this part of the house, but Jungkook moved by memory and his worn wall path before moving into the kitchen. As he walked into the room, you reached for the light switch and flicked it on.

“What would you like me to do?” you asked. You leaned against the counter as you watched his hands skim the cabinets, and you knew he was counting in his head, until he got to the one he wanted. He pulled out a pan as his other hand reached for the stove, hand finding the burner, before moving it to sit the pan down.

“Uh, if you want to grab the ingredients, that will help.”

“Sure thing, sweet pea.”

Jungkook laughed as he reached for the oil that sat by the stove.

“I should be calling you pet names.”

“You do all the time and you’re just too cute not to.”

Opening the refrigerator, you pulled out the necessary amount of eggs and bacon as not to cause confusion with a clutter of items.

Jungkook lost his sight at the ripe, but terrible age of 18. Retinitis pigmentosa was the cause of his progressive vision loss. Around 10, he started showing signs when he complained about not being able to see outside when he played later in the afternoon, even when the sun was still bright on the horizon. His parents’ worst fears were confirmed with his diagnosis and the heartache of explaining to their son that he would lose his vision completely was devastating. But Jungkook proved strong and focused on studying Braille and doing whatever he could to prepare himself. Over the years, his vision worsened, he didn’t get to get his driver’s license with his friends, and he missed out on many things, but that didn’t stop him from pursuing his passion in music. He felt a connection when he made music because without his vision, it made him that much more acute in his studies. You met Jungkook in college, both music majors, and the reason you had met was because he had accidentally thwacked you with his white cane.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” he had said reaching in your direction.

You had laughed and at first his face was set into a confused expression until you spoke.

“Oh, that little thing couldn’t even leave a mark if you had done it intentionally.”

His face screwed up as he tried to hold in a laugh but was unable to do so at your incessant giggling. When you spoke again was when he thinks he fell in love with you, but there were too many moments to count for him.

You nudged the end of his completely white cane with your foot, no red or other markings. “Completely blind, huh?”

You hadn’t said it with any disdain or judgement; you had said it as if you were just having curious, casual conversation. Most of the time Jungkook felt as if his blindness made him invisible to people as if it were some curse to have and if they accidentally came close to him, they’d hurt him or themselves. Of course, he had his close friends and family that didn’t even remember he was blind half the time, but society always kind of sucked that way.

But you, you were the first girl he had ever met that so blatantly astonished him within the first few minutes and his heart flipped in his chest. He didn’t even need to see you to know that you were perfect, and he would end up with you one day. And, sure enough, five years later you were married and looking for a new home.

“How does this one sound?” you asked one night over your tub of chocolate ice cream.

You both sat at your small kitchen table in your small apartment. Jungkook had one headphone in listening to an audiobook, head resting in his hand as his other played absently on yours. You were scrolling through houses on your phone, trying to find the both of you the perfect one. Jungkook hit pause on his book and looked in your direction. Despite his blindness, nothing about his eyes had really changed; they were still a beautiful brown and they were your favorite to see in the evening light, sunset set his eyes aflame.

“Babe, as long as the layout is easy to memorize and it’s what you want, it’s perfect for me.”

“I love you,” you whispered. Tears filled your eyes at the content look on his face, a slight smile played on his lips. You were truly happy with him, sharing every moment together, and to the fullest, but parts of you did feel sad that he couldn’t see it.

“My god,” he whispered somewhat dramatically and suddenly your tears became a small laugh because you knew where this was going. “If your love were a grain of sand…”

“Mine would be a universe of beaches,” you whispered back.

Now, here you were, in your home with its innocuous fingertip paths lining your walls in an intimate artwork that was priceless to you.  

With your back to the counter you leaned and watched as he moved. You only offered help occasionally and when he asked for it, but you were content to watch. His hands always moved lithely, so smooth, as he reached for objects. He cracked the eggs easily into the hot pan as he began to hum. He’d sometimes hum, sometimes sing, but he’d always choose a song about the same length each time and that was how he timed his cooking. The bacon popped loudly.

“Oops, fire’s too high.” He turned the knob to lower the flame before carefully putting his hand back on the handle of his pan. He picked his song up a few seconds after where he left off. The eggs were frying perfectly in the pan, not that you expected any less.

You pushed away from the counter to start grabbing plates as he neared the end of his song. Before long, he had both plates perfectly set with eggs and bacon as you carried the toast to the table. You buttered and spread the strawberry jam on two pieces, dropping one on his plate as you brought them over. He followed behind you, hand on your waist lightly before sitting down at the table.

“What are we gonna do today?” you asked as you bit into the toast. “Holy shit Taehyung knows what he’s doing with this stuff.”

His smile was bright as he cut into his eggs. “What do you feel like doing?”

The sun was now up over the horizon, spilling into the windows and across your kitchen. You had hung various glass artwork throughout the house and right now the stained glass flower you had hung above the kitchen sink cast an array of colors into the room. Jungkook looked like moving artwork across from you. The colors shifted and changed as he moved, leaning back in his chair then forward again, elbow on the table, moving for a napkin, and each time he did splashes of red, green, blue, and yellow painted his skin.

You hadn’t realized you had fallen silent until Jungkook cleared his throat. “Babe?”

“Sorry, I was thinking.”

“About what?”

“The stained glass is casting a lot of pretty colors on you right now and I got distracted.”

“I bet it looks wonderful.”

He smiled softly as he reached for his glass of milk.

“Describe it to me?” He pushed his plate to the middle of the table as he finished. Placing his head in his hands, he looked in your direction, his eyes averted just down from your eyes and somewhere near the apples of your cheeks. Even if he rarely ever made eye contact, your soft voice always lulled him in and pointed him in the right direction.

“Remember when we’d get those cheap plastic kaleidoscopes as kids?” You pulled his plate towards you and stacked it on your own.

He laughed softly at the memory. “I used to think they were so cool, but the pieces inside were just as cheap as the outside.”

“Well think of that…just prettier.” His smile grew wider as his eyes closed and you knew he was thinking back on a memory. Probably a summer day down by the shore, the salty sea air, and the sun on his face. His mom is with him and everything is so bright. He sees the water and the way it stretches to the horizon, but in his peripheral it’s a little darker. For now, he’ll enjoy the waves.

You stood up and took the plates to the sink and began pulling the pots off the stove and putting them under the water with the rest. The sun still shone through the stained glass in front of you. You got lost in thought, hand still under the water waiting for it to heat up as you stared unblinking and the slightly swaying piece of glass. You jumped when a pair of hands softly caressed your hips.

“Shit,” you whispered. You were snapped out of your daydream and you shakily grabbed the sponge before pouring soap over it.

His lips came down on your neck. “Did I scare you?”

“Yea that was real dickish of you.”

He laughed against your neck as he snaked his arms fully around you and held you close. You began scrubbing at a pan as he hummed lightly, placing yet another kiss to your skin. He inhaled deeply and let his warm breath out slowly.

“You smell good,” he murmured.

“Well, I did take a shower last night….” You put the pan in the drying rack before reaching for another one.

His arms tightened around you and he brought himself a little more flush with your body. He hummed again as he moved his lips along the top of your exposed shoulder.  

“What, pray tell, are you doing?” you asked in a mock accent as your hands dove blindly into the water as you searched for more dishes.

“Kissing you,” he said between small pecks.

“Okay.” You pulled a spoon from the filthy depths of the dish water when Jungkook’s hands moved back to your hips and his fingers dug lightly into them.

“Don’t move,” he whispered before dropping to his knees behind you.

Folding his fingers under the waistband of your shorts, he slowly began to pull them past your hips.

“What are you-“ You tried to turn around but keep your hands over the sink at the same time and you could only swivel so far at the hip.

“Shhh.” He kissed the small of your back and then the swell of your ass as he began to palm your ass cheeks. Slowly, he spread them further and further as he placed kisses along your skin. Your body had gotten whiplash; one second you were washing dishes and the next Jungkook was on his knees behind you. You shook slightly and your internal temperature began to rise. Suddenly, having your hands in the warm water became overbearing. You pulled them out and then clung desperately to a dish towel, but there was no way you were drying your hands right now. You felt his lips again and they were on the underside of your ass this time. You clutched the edge of the sink as you stared into the intricate flower in the glass.

Behind you, Jungkook spread your ass and dipped his head, tongue finding your cunt immediately. He hummed into you and you clenched. He spread them further as he licked at your center before he moved to your ass.

“A-ah,” you stuttered as you leaned more into the counter. His face was buried in your ass eating you out until he almost had your thighs shaking before he moved back to your now embarrassingly wet cunt. His moan was deeper this time as you dripped deliciously onto his tongue. Your mind seemed to exit the room as he shook his head, deepening this lewd kiss. He pushed himself up more on his knees, wanting to get as deep into you as he could. Your cries rose in pitch as your thighs began to shake. Your palms dug into the edges of the counters but all you could think about was him. He moaned the more you clenched, getting closer and closer to the release he wanted to give you. You could barely breathe now, and you were nearly on your tiptoes. All the while, Jungkook had his hands firmly on your thighs now with his face anchoring him to your body. You rocked back into his face and his moans began to pitch now, hands almost kneading at your thighs as he wrapped his hands around the front of them, pulling you harder into his face. Your mind felt as if it were on the brink of shutting down as your whole body began to shake. Every muscle in your stomach tensed as you felt yourself tumbling forward.

Different variations of his name fell from your lips in rapid succession as you crested the hill of your release. You fell over it when a large breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your body shuddered and it felt as if all the blood inside rushed to your cunt. Jungkook was still eating you out as you came on his face, nearly crying into the kitchen sink. His grip on your thighs loosened first and then his tongue slowed. Your body shuddered every now and then from the aftershock. He kissed the underside of your ass again before standing. He pulled you into him again and held you close as you caught your breath. He kissed the side of your neck as his cheek rested against your skin.

“You taste good, too,” he mumbled.

You let out a shaky laugh. He had said it so nonchalantly as if he weren’t on his knees, face nowhere to be seen, just minutes before.

“Now, my kaleidoscope eyes,” he reached for the back of your knee and brought your leg upwards, “I need you to rest this here.”

He had your leg up on the counter comfortably and then he dipped his hand back between them. Your hips jerked involuntarily as he played with your painfully swollen clit. He circled the tips of his fingers on it softly. He kissed your skin delicately, reverently. The sun rose higher in the sky and from behind your eyelids you could see various colors of orange, blue, and red.

“You always describe the world so beautifully to me,” he whispered.

“I-I don’t want you t-to miss out.” You were a mess and he was making you an even bigger mess.

“Your vision of the world is far better than anything I could dream up.”

His fingers pressed a little harder and you wanted to clench around something only to be met with air. You whined a little as his breath picked up against your skin and he rutted into you. You felt his cock through his sweats and your mouth instantly watered. He hummed again as you began to drip on his fingers as he dipped them before pushing inside of you. He let out a shuddering breath as you swallowed his fingers fully, clenching hard around him. He pushed into you again, cock hard against your ass and he leaned into you as you pressed further into the counter.

“Tell me what you want,” he said gruffly as he pumped his fingers inside of you.

Your toes curled against the countertop, knee hitting a mug across the marble surface but neither of you bothered to acknowledge it. Jungkook was rutting into you now and breathing hotly into your ear. His other hand was on your breast kneading it roughly.

“God, Jungkook, just fuck me already.” You were doubled over with him hot on your back. His fingers pumped faster and faster and you were on your tiptoe again. You pushed your hips into him as he gave two more hard thrusts into you before pulling his fingers away.

His hands were only gone for what seemed like seconds before he had one on your hip and the other rubbing his cock between your folds. You moaned as you anticipated him. You didn’t have to wait long before he was sliding inside of you easily. His body was hot against yours and his skin against your ass was even hotter. His hand was at your breast again kneading as his heavy cock slid in and out of you slowly as if he were trying to make this moment last forever.

“What colors do you see now?” he whispered. His voice sounded strained like he was holding back. How were you supposed to concentrate?

You squinted when you were finally able to open your eyes; the sun was higher and brighter in the sky since you last looked. All you could think about was his cock softly nudging against the nerves inside of you, but he wasn’t going fast enough to really stimulate anything. You pushed your hips back into him again, but he didn’t take the bait as he pinched your nipple through your shirt. His other hand was anchoring your leg to the counter so you couldn’t move it from where he placed it. Plentiful soap suds were all over the sink and slowly popping but there was enough for the colors to be cast in a strange refracted way. The angle of the light caused more rainbows to shine from the hundreds of tiny bubbles. You reached out and braced yourself on the windowsill above the sink before you spoke.

“All of t-them. They’re shining on the soap now.” You were no stranger to describing things to Jungkook, but during sex was a new one.

He seemed satisfied as his pace quickened. His lips were on your neck, wet, and travelling upwards until he bit your earlobe between his teeth. Once again, you were pushing your hips into him as much as he’d let you. He was much too strong pushing you against the counter and his hand on your leg limited your movements.

“Jungkook, please.” You were breathless now, travelling up to that peak again but you needed more than this. He didn’t need to ask to hear your underlying question. He pressed against you harder while at the same time quickening his pace. The hand on your breast splayed across your chest before he moved it slowly down your stomach. Your breath caught in your throat as your stomach tightened. He was dipping his fingers between your legs again and pressed two fingers to your clit. Your chest came flush with the edge of the counter now and you felt Jungkook’s cheek on your shoulder blade. You reached for anything to brace yourself after your sweaty palm slid from the windowsill. You knocked soap and various other items down, sending some splashing into the water and others into the empty side of the steel sink. Jungkook ignored the clattering of items as he began to snap his hips harder. The pressure he had on your clit was barely there but enough to have you straining and willing your body to fall, but you just whimpered as you cried into the sink. He controlled your orgasm and all you could do was fall into the delectable pleasure he was giving you because you knew he always delivered. There was no way he was letting you physically walk away from this.  

The room grew hotter the higher the sun climbed as it cast its menagerie of colors onto your face. The ends of your hair gathered the water droplets collected in the sink as your body shifted with each thrust. Without his sight, Jungkook was acutely more aware to other parts of your body. Like the way your cunt would flutter and tighten like a vice the closer you got your orgasm. He could practically feel the muscles in your back tense up as you focused all your attention to the burning in your abdomen. He pressed his fingers a little harder before moving them faster on your clit. The nerve endings inside were lit on fire, sending the hot flames licking in your core and up into your chest as every hair on your body stood on end as your skin flushed with goosebumps. You began to tremble, thighs cramping as you brought yourself fully up on your toes, other leg sweating against the marble counter. Jungkook’s large hand was still firm on the back of your thigh, keeping your leg up on the edge as he fucked into you faster and harder. You were crying loudly now, not holding anything back as he led you towards the end. Your orgasm hit with an explosion of colors behind your eyelids, aided by the stained glass. Jungkook’s fingers abandoned your clit in favor of bringing you more upright to turn your face enough for a searing kiss; his lips skated across your cheek before he found yours and you moaned into his mouth. He still thrust, ready to follow you down the other side and you clenched harder around him almost making it impossible for him to stay inside, but he had his hips hard against yours and into the counter in front of you. He braced himself against your thigh, his other hand on the counter now, and his lips still on yours as he spilled inside of you. Hot cum began to leak immediately around him and onto the floor. Usually you had your closed legs to keep it contained but now he was dripping all over the kitchen floor. Not that you minded. His moans dropped in pitch as he continued to thrust, overwhelmed by the feeling of you and his cum filling you up and then spilling out. With hips stuttering a few more times, he stilled. Without his movements you could now feel the slip of his cum as it came out of you. Slowly, he let go of your thigh and eased it to the floor. You winced as your cramped muscles begged for relief, but he was gentle in his movements, letting you adjust. He kissed your temple and the side of your face while you tried to regain your breath. Your legs felt as if they’d give out at any moment as they wobbled dangerously, but his steadfast grasp around your waist kept you upright.

The early morning sun still climbed in the sky, now out of view of the stained glass. The kitchen was yet again cast in the muted glow as it hid behind the trees, a display of leaves now covered the room in a strange dance. Jungkook was silent behind you, but still holding you close as he waited for your legs to regain their strength. The dishes sat scattered and forgotten in the sink and on the counter. The last of the soap bubbles were popping away and any hint of the colorful display was gone except for the stained glass now hanging somewhat plainly in the window.

He pulled you impossibly closer, face nuzzled into your neck as he hummed a nonsensical tune.

“Thank you,” he whispered. You were silent, knowing he had more to say. “Thank you for bringing color into my world.”

You squeezed his hand that was around your waist. You didn’t have to say much for him to understand, but what he didn’t know was how much he had brought into yours.

“If your love were a grain of sand…” you began.

“Mine,” he said with a whisper and a kiss to your exposed shoulder, “would be a universe of beaches.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

driver’s license ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 2520

request?: no

description: in which a new song reminds her too much of her ex, and leads them to reconnect

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angst, sadness

based on this song (of course)

masterlist

Who knew that a song by a 17 year old could cause so much hurt to be brought back for me? Not to bash 17 year olds or anything, but when I was 17 I could never write something so heartbreakingly beautiful.

I was on my way home from work when the song came on the radio for the first time. I was captivated by the lyrics immediately and found myself having to pull over because I couldn’t stop crying. It took a solid five minutes and having to play my happy playlist on Spotify before I finally felt okay enough to get home, however the minute I got in through the door I found the song on Spotify and listened to it all night.

The lyrics connected with me in a way that a song hadn’t in years, and the pain in the singer’s voice opened up fresh wounds that I had thought were long closed.

She's so much older than me She's everything I'm insecure about

Of course he ended up with her. Even if he hadn’t actually left me for her, he always told me there was nothing between them besides on screen chemistry. And now they were dating and supposedly “so in love”.

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever, now I drive alone past your street

He wrote so many songs about me. He played every one of them for me after writing and recording them, just to get my approval and my okay to put them out. They were beautiful songs - songs in which he promised forever. He’d always said he was going to marry me one day, make me the mother of his future kids. His “forever girl”.

Can't drive past the places we used to go to 'Cause I still fucking love you, babe

God...did I ever still love him.

Our relationship didn’t get a proper closure. At least, not on my end. It all happened so fast. He came home after a long tour and was silent the whole night. He didn’t even try to make love to me the way he always did after being away from me for so long. The next morning, he told me over breakfast that he had lost feelings for me. He asked me to get my things and take them back to the apartment I still had despite basically living out of his home. Then he left, saying he didn’t want to be there to watch me leave.

After that, it was like he stopped existing. Well, it was like Colson Baker stopped existing. Machine Gun Kelly was everywhere, especially after announcing his new relationship with Megan Fox, in which he made sure to post pictures and videos with her basically every week. But the Colson I knew and loved stopped existing. He blocked me on everything, even my phone number. He didn’t reach out to me, neither did Casie. I figured the latter was because her father told her not to, which almost hurt more than the breakup did. I loved Casie like my own daughter, and I loved Colson more than anything. And in the span of 12 hours, I lost both of them.

I credited that non-closure to the reason I had such a hard time moving on, even after being broken up almost a year. I really thought I was okay, until I heard fucking Olivia Rodrigo singing about her own heartbreak, and it made me remember mine was still fresh.

On one day that my thoughts were becoming too dark to bare on my own, I decided to go out for a drive to clear my head. I turned on the song, just to make myself more depressed I guess. I wasn’t really paying attention to the road (not good, I know) and, I guess by some muscle memory, I found myself driving down Colson’s street. I hadn’t realized where I was until I saw his familiar house, which his familiar car in the driveway...and his familiar tall frame getting out of it.

My breath caught in my throat and I was sure I was about to crash the car. I looked at him for a little too long, every good memory we ever had rushing back in that moment. He was looking down at his keys as he bumped the car door shut with his hip. I wondered if Megan was in the house waiting for him, and found that that thought hurt me more than actually seeing him.

I saw his head lifting, looking in my direction, for a split second before my eyes darted back to the road. I hoped he couldn’t see me in the driver’s seat, or that he didn’t see me looking at him. I hoped he just thought I was a random car passing through the neighborhood. If he couldn’t see that it was specifically me driving, there was no way he’d know it was my car. There were too many cars like it.

My heart was racing and I could feel tears welling up in my eyes again. I knew I had to pull over, but I was still too close to his house to feel comfortable stopping. I blinked my tears away and continued driving, trying to steady my heartbeat as I drove to the coffee shop just at the end of his road. The one we always used to go to.

I got out and went inside, hoping that getting something to eat and drink would help me to settle down before I drove home. I ordered an iced coffee and a muffin and took it to sit in a booth tucked away in the back of the coffee shop. I was trying to distract myself with my phone when someone approached and spoke.

“Hey.”

My whole body tensed up as I looked up to see - of course - Colson stood over me.

“Hey,” I said. I cringed at how hoarse my voice sounded. God, pull it together (Y/N).

“I thought that was you driving past my place,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets awkwardly.

“Yeah, sorry,” I said, trying to come up with some excuse on the spot as to why I was in the neighborhood. “I haven’t been to this place in so long and found myself craving some coffee. I guess...it was just muscle memory to come through your way to get here.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I...I actually got a little excited. I thought...I thought maybe you were coming over for a second. I forgot...”

His voice trailed away.

How could he forget we broke up when he was the one who dumped me? And he was the one who moved on soo effortlessly?

“Can I sit?” he asked.

I shrugged in response. “Free country.”

He chuckled at my joke, and my heart did an involuntary flip. God, I missed that laugh.

He sat across from me in the booth and looked down at his hands. I stared down at the food in front of me, suddenly feeling too queasy to eat. Instead, I took another sip of my iced coffee.

“How have you been?” he asked.

The questioned annoyed me.

How have I been?! Well, let’s see: you absolutely shattered my heart, went MIA on me and took your daughter with you, started seeing the much older, much prettier actress that you told me you had no feelings for and decided to rub it in my face through social media, all while I have been so broken for nearly a year that I constantly have friends and family checking in on me to make sure I’m still alive. How the fuck do you think I’ve been?!

I decided not to respond that way though, even though I was aching to make him feel bad for what he did to me. I knew it was the smarter option to try and be the bigger person in this situation.

“I’ve been okay,” I responded, trying to be as vague as possible. “Not too much as happened really. Still...same old me.”

I didn’t ask him how he was, because I already knew. He knew that I knew, because how could I not? His face was plastered everywhere, usually sucking on Megan’s face as well.

“It’s cool to see you,” he said instead. “I...It’s been too long.”

“Well, it tends to be hard to communicate when you block someone on everything overnight.”

I quickly took a sip of my iced coffee, almost wishing that would put the words back in my mouth.

Colson winced. “Yeah, that was...that was wrong of me. I...I’m sorry.”

“Why the fuck are you here, Colson?” I finally snapped. So much for being the bigger person. “Couldn’t you have just watched me drive past in peace? Did you have to follow me?”

“I felt like I had to,” he said. “I wanted...I wanted to know I hadn’t just seen you this time like all the other times I saw a car that looked like yours. I had to know if it was actually you this time. And I...I had to see you in person again.”

“You could’ve called at any time,” I reminded him. “Or messaged on social media, or even just texted. You could’ve even sent a fucking letter, Colson! If you wanted to see me that bad, you had ways of reaching out. You decided not to, you decided that the break up meant I was non-existent to you anymore.”

“I know!” he snapped back, his hand hitting the table and causing the contents on it to rattle. All eyes in the coffee shop were staring at us for a brief moment before going back to what they were doing. “I fucking know, and it was the worst fucking mistake I’ve ever made. I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I was a complete idiot.”

“Sorry means nothing to me, Colson,” I told him. “Sorry doesn’t undo the year of heartbreak and agony you put me through. Sorry doesn’t undo the fact that you left me for six months to go on tour, that you texted and called me every morning and every night to tell me how much you loved me and how you couldn’t wait to see me again, even on the night before you came home, only to do a complete 180 the moment you got off the plane. It doesn’t excuse the fact that you told me to take my shit and leave the place I had considered a home for two years because you were ending the five year relationship that you claimed to be so deeply in love with. And it especially doesn’t excuse the fact that mere months after the break up you were all over Megan fucking Fox!”

He was silent for a long time. His eyes were becoming moist with tears, and I could feel a lump growing in my own throat. But I couldn’t break. I refused to do so. Not in front of him, not right now.

“I’m such a fucking idiot,” he finally breathed, his voice cracking slightly. “You have to know how much I truly do fucking love you, (Y/N). That never went away. It’s still there, you’re still my forever girl in my heart. But when I came home from tour...my manager called me as I was boarding the flight and told me that there was a plan in motion to get promo for the new album and for the movie with Megan. They wanted Megan and I to date for PR, to be all lovey dovey in front of the cameras and to gush over one another constantly. I reminded him about you and he told me I had to break up with you. He gave me no option, he said either I did that or I was being dropped from the label. No album, no movie, no...no nothing. Just the loser who was still being referred to as the idiot who got his career destroyed by Eminem.”

It was a shocking revelation. I had known Colson’s manager, he seemed like such a nice guy. He didn’t seem like the type to give those kinds of ultimatums. But there was that saying about a wolf in sheep’s clothing...

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

“It was easier to make you think I just wasn’t in love anymore,” he said. “I didn’t want you to think I was choosing my career over you, cause I’d never do that. You meant - you mean - the world to me (Y/N). You’re my everything. I just...all the hard work I was putting into everything, for all of that to go to waste, for everything to flop just because I didn’t want to fake date my co-star. I was afraid of the power my manager held over me so...so I just did it. I went along with the plan. I pretended to be hopelessly in love with Megan when I had no feelings for her at all.”

He reached across the table and took my hands in his. I jumped and thought about pulling away from him, but I couldn’t deny that it felt nice to feel his touch again.

“I love you, (Y/N),” he said. “More than anything, you’re the person I want to be with. That bullshit with Megan, it’s long over. We just haven’t made it known publicly, but it will be announced. I want to try and pick up where things left off with us. I want to have you back in my home - in my arms - preparing to marry you someday. Please, (Y/N), can you please forgive me?”

It was the words I wanted to hear more than anything. I had dreamt about hearing Colson ask to take me back ever since he had broken up with me. At that point in time, I probably would’ve jumped at the chance, too. But this time, I slowly pulled my hands away from his. He looked at me in confusion.

“I can’t,” I told him. “Colson, you really fucking hurt me. You left me with no explanation, not even any closure. I get why you did it, but you have to understand that you telling me now isn’t going to undo a year’s worth of hurt that you put me through. I don’t know if anything will ever undo that at this point.”

I stood from the booth, taking my coffee with me and leaving a heartbroken Colson looking up at me with puppy dog eyes.

“There’s this song I’ve been listening to,” I said. “It’s called Driver’s License. I think it’s the only accurate way to describe how much you hurt me when you broke up with me. I encourage you to listen to it, then you can try to take me back again.”

I turned quickly and left before he could see me cry.

[beauvibaby]

all I could ever want – t.seguin

a/n: part 2 of there won’t be anyone else!! I definitely prefer the first part of this story, but I also love this one because it’s just straight fluff 😌

Word count: 2.9k

“Mommy!” Willow squealed in delight, running into the kitchen to see you, Tyler had picked her up from preschool on his way home from practice. “Willow!” You mimicked, laughing as she hugged your legs, “did you have a good day?” You asked with a grin, Tyler chuckled, “Miss Laura is having a baby.” Tyler spoke for her. Willow nodded excitedly, “aw, that’s great.” You smiled, hoisting Willow up to sit on the counter. “I want you to have a baby, mommy.” She spoke honestly, giving her dad a weird look when he choked on his water, you snickered at him. “Maybe.” You shrugged her comment off, thankful for her short attention span, she was asking to go play with the dogs as she wiggled her way into your arms to be put down on the ground. “Go ahead.” Tyler nodded her off and she went barreling towards the living room where the dogs were innocently napping, poor boys.

“What was that reaction for?” You asked once it was just the two of you, he mumbled something under his breath, “talk like an adult, Tyler.” You teased him, resting a hand on your hip as you gave him a stern look. “I just didn’t think she was going to want a sibling, she loves having all the attention.” He sighed, “plus my baby is too little to want another baby in the house.” He pouted dramatically. Ah, the real reasoning coming out. “Yeah, but you always said you wanted more kids, and you know I would be happy with a full house, so.” You trailed off, kind of disappointed by his lackluster reaction. “You still want to have more kids right?” You asked when he didn’t speak, finally locking your eyes on his. “Yes, of course.” He rushed, “after the wedding?” He offered, seeing your smile turn up, “really?” You gasped like a child. You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I don’t want you to think I don’t want more babies with you.” He smirked, kissing your pouted lips, “I was just so caught off guard.” He admitted honestly, his normal attitude coming back through.

You had to cut him some slack, thinking of how hard it was for him when Willow’s mom was pregnant, she didn’t want him involved in anything he wasn’t able to be apart of it up until the last second, it was like a switch flipped and suddenly she decided she wasn’t fit to raise a baby. As selfish as it sounds, you were so grateful for how it turned out, because at the end of the day you knew she was getting the best life possible with you and Tyler.

“Me too, honestly, I’m surprised she hasn’t asked how the baby gets in a woman’s stomach.” You quipped, Tyler groaned, “I can’t even think about that.” He muttered in defeat, kissing the side of your head. When he pulled away, you had a giddy smile on your face, “what?” He asked you suspiciously. “I can’t wait to have a baby with you.” You admitted, watching his nerves melt away. You knew Tyler, and you knew he was a worrier, even if he didn’t voice it, right now he was probably running over every horror story he’s heard about complicated pregnancies. “God you’re gonna look so beautiful.” He muttered, a glint in his eyes, you knew then, that it was all going to be ok, even if he was a nervous wreck. Which part of you thought he would be.

***

You stood by the window of your bridal suite, dressed in your gown and veil, one of the photographers getting photos of you looking out, coincidentally, in the open garden below you, Tyler was doing his first look with Willow, something the photographer had brought up to you, and you jumped on it. Those pictures would be cherished forever, Tyler really didn’t know what Willow was going to be dressed in, but you watched as he turned around and saw his little girl, who didn’t look so little, in a dusty rose colored dress, long lace sleeves and a nice puffy skirt, per her request. Her curls tamed beautifully for once as she actually let the hair stylist apply some products to them. Your grin was wide as he gasped, looking at her and she bounced over to him, you could see her mouth moving and you could only imagine how she was rambling on and on about her dress. A habit he swears she picked up from you.

“Y/N? You ready to head down?” Your maid of honor, your best friend Y/F/N asked, giving you a once over. You smoothed out your dress once more, looking down at the trumpet style gown. “Yeah.” You sniffled, fanning at your face. You and Tyler opted not to do a first look, you wanted to see his genuine reaction as you walked down the aisle. “You look stunning.” She assured you, lightly dabbing under your eyes with a tissue, the sound of the camera going off in the background.

As you reached your spot just behind the double doors, any nerves you had melted away, Tyler, the love of your life, was right on the other side of this wall, prepared to say I do to a lifetime with you.

Tyler’s father was walking you down the aisle, neither of your parents here to do it. As he approached, you smiled, hoping Tyler’s reaction would be similar to his dad’s. You’d grown close with his family over the years, they truly loved you, and it showed as his dad grabbed your hand, kissing the top of it as he smiled tearfully. “I’ll never really know how Tyler managed to snag you up, but he could have never made a better choice.” He explained, voice shaking before he cleared his throat. “Let’s get this show on the road.” He broke the silence, chuckling at himself as you looped your arm with his, holding your bouquet with the other.

The wedding March began to play, and the doors were pushed open, revealing you and Paul standing there. Instantly Tyler looked to the ceiling, his eyes watering already, the smile on his face was undeniable as you walked towards him slowly, your own eyes glazed over at the way he was looking at you. “Gorgeous.” He mouthed, your lips parting in a smile, he loved when he got those smiles out of you, the ones where the corners of your eyes would crinkle, and sometimes you would even scrunch your nose a bit. This was definitely one of those moments.

***

The wedding had come and gone, your honeymoon too, a simple trip with just the two of you before the hockey season started again. “Daddy.” Willow whispered, standing on his side of the bed, he stirred, blinking his eyes a couple of times to adjust to the darkness of the room. He turned his lamp on, “what’s wrong baby?” He asked softly, careful not to wake you as he caressed Willow’s face, frowning at the tears coating it. “I had a bad dream.” She whimpered, “come here.” He huffed as he pulled her up onto the bed. “Wanna tell me what happened?” He asked her, turning the lamp off as he let her cuddle with him. “No, just cuddles.” She mumbled sleepily, his heart swelled in his chest at that, “always, princess.” He sighed, kissing the top of her head as she easily laid on top of him, her teddy bear snuggled between them. You flipped over carefully, having woken up during their little conversation. Tyler gave you a tired smile as you placed a kiss on his shoulder before resting back on your pillow, a smile on your face as you listened to her light breathing.

As morning came you groaned in annoyance, morning sickness coming right along with it.

That’s right, you two had no trouble getting pregnant apparently, today was actually the day you were going to tell Willow about the baby. “Is mommy sick?” Willow asked Tyler as they woke up to you bolting out of bed, he held back a chuckle, “no, she’s ok.” He assured her, “stay here.” He demanded gently before coming to check on you as you brushed your teeth. “Hi babe.” He placed a kiss on your cheek, “doing ok?” He asked softly, locking eyes with you in the mirror. “Yeah,” you sighed, leaning into his hold after you rinsed your mouth out. “Are you ready to tell her?” You asked eagerly, “god, yes.” He groaned, giving you a quick kiss.

Willow was sitting in the middle of the bed, adjusting the bow on her teddy bear's head. “Good morning, baby.” You chuckled, sitting beside her, she shot you a smile, just like Tyler’s as she crawled into your lap. “Don’t forget miss bows.” She mumbled with a pout, Tyler snickered as you took the bear and placed a kiss on its head, “good morning, miss bows.” You spoke dramatically, Willow snuggling happily into you. “Hey, Willow.” Tyler spoke softly, sitting beside you, “guess what?” He smiled at her, she sat up a little straighter, “what?” She asked cutely, you shared a look with Tyler. “We’re gonna have a baby.” You told her, relief hitting you as she jumped up screaming in excitement. “A baby?!” She squealed. You quickly pulled out your phone to record her, sending it to Tyler’s parents. “When?” She asked giggling, sitting crossed legged in front of you both. “Oh, it’s still going to be a few months honey.” You explained sweetly, “but you’re going to be a big sister, that means you can help me and mommy get stuff ready for the baby.” Tyler assured her, wanting her to feel involved and not like the baby was going to completely take over.

The months started flying by, you were having a little boy, Tyler thought he wanted another daughter, which of course he would have been just as excited for, but when he heard it was a boy, you could see the way his eyes lit up. Willow had been a little upset at first, wanting a little sister that she could do all her fun girly things with as she got older, but after some long conversations and some explanations, you convinced her of all the reasons it would be fun for her to have a brother.

Tyler was more than nervous as your water broke in the middle of the night, of course you��d thought ahead and had spoken to Tyler’s mom, who had been staying with you guys for about a week, to be here and help with Willow once you had the baby. He swears that your labor went on forever, but really, you’d gotten lucky and progressed quickly. Nearly missing the window to get the epidural, which terrified you, but you got it, and now you had a very healthy, chunky little eight pound baby boy. Much to everyone’s surprise, everyone expected him to be smaller, but you weren’t complaining.

“Oh my god.” You cried out as they put him on your chest, his screams filling the room, it felt like an eternity until he began to cry, but he was sure to make up for it.

“I can’t believe we made him.” Tyler mumbled, unlike Willow, Hunter was born with next to no hair. “I know.” You whispered, running your finger across his chubby cheek, he was peacefully sleeping in your arms, already a hungry baby, having drunk himself right to sleep. “I hope he looks like you.” Tyler muttered, lightly kissing the side of your head, a smile graced your lips, “I hope he looks like you.” You giggled, “but I kind of don’t, because then all the girls will be after him when he’s a teenager.” You added, your husband chuckling beside you. “Let’s worry about his first night home, yeah?” He laughed softly. “Willow is going to be so excited.” You sighed, lacing your fingers with Tyler’s.

***

“Mommy, daddy!” Willow rushed over when you walked in, Tyler having the car seat around his arm. “Hi, sweet girl.” You welcomed her hug, kneeling to her height. “Were you good for grandma?” You asked gently, she nodded eagerly before moving over to hug Tyler once he placed the car seat down. “Hi princess.” He grinned, hugging her tightly, “I missed you.” He kissed the top of her head, laughing as she completely disregarded his comment and looked at Hunter in awe. “He’s so pretty.” She gasped, making you and Jackie both laugh. “He really is a beautiful baby, honey.” Jackie spoke to you, giving you a gentle hug. Tyler moved the car seat up to the table, shushing Willow as he assured her she would get to hold him. “Go wash your hands.” Jackie instructed her, walking over to Tyler as he easily held the newborn in his hands. She kissed her son's cheek before grabbing Hunter’s hand, “hello beautiful boy.” She cooed, running her thumb over his arm. “You did good.” She commented to Tyler, lightly nudging his side, he shot her a smile, “yeah.” He agreed, glancing at you.

“Can I hold him, please, please?” Willow begged, running out with freshly washed hands, you nodded, “go sit on the couch, I’ll bring him to you.” You instructed her softly, she giggled and ran off to the couch, you gently took Hunter from Tyler, “oh, Jackie did you want to hold him fi–“ “No, no, let Willow do it first, she’s just so excited.” Jackie cut you off mid ramble. You smiled in relief, slowly walking over to the couch, Tyler came and sat next to her, he put a pillow on her lap, and had her put arms out on it. “You have to be really gentle, ok?” He told her as he put his arms around her, his hands offering extra support for the baby’s neck. You laid Hunter down, smiling as Willow cooed down to him, “hi baby brother.” She giggled, looking over at you and then to Tyler. “Mommy,” she mumbled as you sat next to them, Tyler picking the baby up as he began to fuss, “I love him.” Willow concluded in the most serious voice. “I love him too.”

***

Hunter gurgled up at you as you dressed him in sweatpants, now two months old, and all of you were missing Tyler as he just had his first away game of the season. You left him shirtless, a pun at how Tyler always walked around the house in his pajamas, “mommy, I wanna match.” Willow pouted, you looked at her in thought for a moment, knowing you couldn’t let her run around in only pants, even if it was only in the house. “Oh, I have an idea.” You grinned, scooping the baby up and going into the back of the closet, where most of Tyler’s old shirts were. “Come here baby!” You called, Willow came bouncing in, one of your fondest memories as a child was wearing your dad's old shirts as pajamas, so why not pass it on to her. “Pick one to wear.” You told her, smiling as she got all excited, flipping through them, she pulled two down off the hangers, “where this one mommy, please.” She gave you her puppy eyes, not that she had to. You nodded, taking the shirt from her and going into the bathroom to change into it, leaving your shorts in underneath.

A loud laugh fell from your lips as you walked out and saw her drowning in his shirt, but there was nothing more adorable. “Come here, let me get a picture.” You made Willow lay on the bed, and put Hunter next to her, you wanted to send the picture to him, but you’d rather him be surprised by your outfit choices for the night. “Hello!” Tyler called from downstairs, Willow giggled carefully moving away from Hunter, “careful, hold the shirt up so you don’t fall!” You called as she took off out of the room, her response faded out as she bounced down the steps, you following with Hunter curled up in your arms. “Hey baby!” You heard Tyler gasp, “what do you think you’re wearing?” He questioned her, lifting her up into his arms. “We missed you so much, we figured why not dress up as you.” You explained, making him look up and see you in one of his shirts and Hunter in little grey sweatpants, Tyler threw his head back in laughter, “are you surprised?” Willow asked him, arms clasped around his neck, he hummed in agreement as he kissed her cheek before coming over to you. “Hi.” He whispered before pecking your lips.

“Hi.” You repeated, smiling as he pulled away, Willow wiggled her way down to the ground, allowing him to take Hunter from you. “Hey bud, looking good.” He mumbled kissing across his chubby cheeks. “And mama, as beautiful as ever.” He winked over at you. He smirked when you rolled your eyes with a smile, “movie night!” He declared, bolting up the stairs with Hunter to go change. You chuckled as you ordered pizza, deciding to make it a fun simple night. You knew that it wouldn’t always be like this, but you knew that whatever life through at you, you two could make it work.

“You know, I’ve got all I could ever want right here.” Tyler mumbled as you sat curled up on the couch with two sleeping kids on your laps. “Me too, Ty.”

taglist: @boqvistsbabe @tortito @2manytabsopen @heybarzy @barzysreputation @yzas-stuff @iwantahockeyhimbo @calgarycanuck @myhockeyworld87 @shortstacks-blog @mymanshawn @calgarycanuck @pagirl6866 @chronosarcheron

[joannie95]

I Hope

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: When the love of your life breaks your heart you hope he feels that same pain

Word Count: 2K+

Warnings: angst, angst and more angst 

A/N: Oh my god its a miracle I actually wrote something. This story is base off of I Hope by Gabby Barrett I had fun writing it and I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you to @mo320 and @celestialbarnes for helping me with ideas and looking over the story.

As I sit with Bucky in the coffee house, I start to reminisce over our last few years together. Since the beginning it felt like he was it for me, I pictured a life with him. Get married, have a few kids, and grow old together. I reached across the table and held his hand in mine. I give him a loving smile but notice his attention is elsewhere. This has been happening more and more lately. I don't want to admit to myself that somethings wrong because as soon as I do, that future I've always pictured together could come crashing down. "Are you alright Bucky?" 

"Hmm?" He quickly looks up from his phone before closing the screen. "Sorry what?" 

"I asked if you're alright? You seem distracted." I try to meet his eyes but he seems to be doing everything to avoid them. 

"Yeah I'm fine, listen I know this is short notice but I have to go. Steve needs me at the shop a car part got delivered but no one can find it." He gets up ignoring your protests of never spending time together anymore. "I'm sorry, I'll see you at home." And with that, he's gone. 

I'm not sure how long I sat there, coffee long forgotten. There's a tap on my shoulder, I look up and see my friend Peggy. When Bucky and I started dating I became close with his best friend Steve's girlfriend. 

"Y/N how are you?" She pulled me into a tight hug. "Where's Bucky? I thought you two were spending the day together." 

"Yeah um, we were but he said steve needed his help at the shop. It's ok though." I was trying hard to convince her but it seems like I was trying to convince myself even more. "Are you here alone? Do you want to join me?" 

Before she could respond Steve walks up to the both of you and puts his arm around Peggy. "Hey Y/N how are you doing, where's Bucky?" 

They looked at each other when they saw the confused look on your face. "What do you mean? He was texting you earlier wasn't he? He said you needed his help at the shop." 

Steve seemed just as confused as me after hearing that. "I haven't talked to Bucky all day." He looked towards Peggy then back at me. "Maybe you misheard him." 

I quickly gathered my things and got up. "Yeah you're probably right, I should go." 

Peggy grabbed onto my arm when I nearly stumbled in my attempt to rush. "Please stay, you can join us." 

I quickly thanked her but decided it was best to leave. "No it's fine really, I need to go find Bucky." Once outside I tried to figure out what to do, I took my phone out and tried to call him. It rang three times before sending me to voice-mail, I tried once more and again it rang three times then straight to voice-mail. He had to see that I was calling him right? I decided it was best to just take a cab home and wait for him there. 

Once I was home I couldn't stop panicking. Why did he lie to me? What was he doing? I'm not sure how much time had passed but soon enough I heard the door close and bucky walked inside. "Where have you been?" 

He looks up with a smile as he's hanging up his coat. "Hello to you too." 

I got off the couch and walked towards him. I want to scream but decided it's best to stay calm. "Where have you been Bucky? And don't tell me you were at the shop because I ran into Steve and he said he hasn't talked to you today." 

"Doll." He takes a step towards me. 

"Just tell me the truth, we can work things out but I need you to tell me the truth." I blink the tears away and try to steady my breathing. 

"I'm sorry." He runs his hands through his hair and looks defeated. Either for what he did or being caught. "Nothing happened, I met her at work and she gave me her number and we started talking but we never did anything. I promise." 

"But something did happen!" I turn away trying to keep my distance. "Is she who you left me to see today, just tell me that." 

He looks down and kicks the ground. "Yes." He tries to take my hands in his but I pull back before he can. "I promise all we did was talk." 

"Just tell me why? Am I not good enough for you? Am I not pretty enough? I thought everything was fine but obviously if you have to go looking for someone else it's not." All these doubts are finally coming out, I never wanted to admit them but deep down I think I've always felt this way. 

"No that's not it, you have to believe me." 

"If I was good enough you wouldn't have had to go behind my back and lie to my face to meet her. Just tell me why? What did I do?" 

"I was stupid. Someone gave me attention and it made me feel good I never intended for it to go past talking I promise." He walked up to me and slowly reached towards me, this time allowing him he placed his hands on my cheeks and pulled me close. "I'm sorry, please forgive me. We can work this out like you said just please forgive me." 

"I don't know Bucky." This is the love of my life, but I'm not sure if the pain in my heart from finding out the truth outweighs the pain of never being able to hold him again. I place my hands over his and spoke barely above a whisper. "Please don't ever hurt me like this again." I look up and see relief in his eyes. 

He wipes away the tears that started to fall from my eyes before kissing me. First on my forehead, then each cheek, and lastly a soft turned heated kiss on my lips. "I promise I won't." 

And I believed him, I started to trust him again and everything was going so great. Until it wasn't. The first few weeks after the incident was great, Bucky put more focus into our relationship. It felt like it did when we first started dating. Romantic gestures, spontaneous date nights it was all perfect. Then one day I noticed it, he was more focused on his phone than he was on me. I tried to convince myself I was just imagining things, he wouldn't try so hard to work things out just to do it all over again right? 

I was getting ready for a date night, Bucky made reservations at a restaurant he knew I wanted to go to. While he was in the shower I was deciding between two dresses, a fitted dress that hugged every curve or a dress that showed just enough skin that was sure to drive him crazy. While I was debating on them I heard a ping from the nightstand and assumed it was Steve texting Bucky so I decided to ignore it and keep getting ready. After a few minutes, I heard two more notifications. "Bucky! Bucky your phones going off, I think it might be Steve!" Deciding to just save my voice I go grab the phone and take it to him. As I pick it up another notification appears and I feel the world stop and my heart shatter. No, no he promised. He promised it was nothing and he would stop. 

"Sorry about that doll, were you calling me?" When I didn't answer him he walked up behind me. "Y/N, are you alright?"  He was about to place his hand on my shoulder but my next question made him freeze in his spot. 

"Who's Dot?" I turn around and look at him not knowing if I'm more angry or heartbroken. "James, who is Dot and why is she so excited to see you this weekend when you told me you were going to visit your parents?" 

"Y/N, please. I can explain." 

I threw his phone across the room hoping it broke when I heard it hit the wall. "Explain what? Explain why you lied to me! Explain why you're probably screwing the girl you told me you stopped talking to! Or explain how you could throw this entire relationship away! I was stupid enough to trust you and give you a second chance and this is what you do." I push past him and start packing whatever I can into a small suitcase. 

He walks up behind me and tries to stop me. "Baby please, just stop and listen to me. I'm sorry" 

"No. I'm sorry that I thought I could trust you but I'm done." I keep packing and turn towards him once I’m done. "If you're willing to ruin us, ruin the future we were planning for her. Then I'm done" 

As I make my way towards the door he pulls me back. He wraps his arms around me and holds me close. "Baby please." There's a strain in his voice, I don't have to look to know he's crying. "Please don't leave me, I need you. I love you." 

I force myself out of his hold and turn to him. "No, you don't, if you actually loved me none of this would have ever happened and you would have never put me through this much pain." I walk towards the door and put my hand on the handle. Before I open it I turn back. "Just remember that you caused this James, it was all you." Before I could hear his response I walked out and slammed the door. I willed myself not to cry, not yet. I get in my car and drive. I didn't know what to do or where to go but the next thing I know I'm standing in front of a house knocking on a door. It opens and they look shocked at my current state. "I know I may be asking a lot especially since you both knew Bucky long before I came along but I really need a place to stay right now." As soon as I was pulled into a tight hug the floodgates opened and all the emotions came pouring out. 

Peggy walked me towards a spare room and Steve brought my bag. She sat me down in bed and held me as I cried. The exhaustion from all the crying must have put me to sleep. I slowly open my eyes and adjust to the light coming through the door and attempt to sit up, a few moments later Peggy walks through the door with a glass of water in her hand. 

"Oh good, you're up, here drink this. After all that crying I'm sure you need it." She handed me the glass and took it back once it was empty. 

"What time is it?" I try to clear my throat, all that crying made my voice incredibly hoarse. 

A little past 11 pm, you slept for a few hours once you stopped crying. She sat down next to me and wrapped her arms around me. "You don't have to talk about what happened if you're not ready but you can stay here as long as you want. And you don't have to worry about James bothering you, Steve gave him quite an earful. I've never heard him yell at James that way as long as I've known them. 

Hearing that almost made me want to smile. "I feel so stupid Peg." My voice cracked and I felt like crying again. "How could I trust him again only for him to cheat on me again?" 

"You listen to me, the only stupid one in this situation is James. He knew exactly what he was doing and that's on him, not you. I promise you will get through this, Steve and I will be with you the entire time." 

"Thank you, Peggy, I don't know what I'd do without you" 

It didn't happen immediately but Peggy was right as always. With some time and help from my friends, I was able to put James and his betrayal behind me. Within a couple of days, I was able to laugh and smile again. Within a couple of weeks, I was able to stop crying over the pain he caused. Within a couple of months, I was able to go out with friends and have fun again even after hearing that James never stopped seeing that girl he was cheating with. 

That's exactly what I was doing tonight. I was out with Peggy, having drinks and enjoying life. We had a discussion that even though things with James ended badly I didn't want to lose her and Steve as friends and that it didn't mean they couldn't be friends with him either. Steve especially, I didn't want my pain to be the reason he loses a lifelong friendship. 

"Looks like we're out of drinks, I'll go get us some more." I weave through the crowded room and walk up to the bar and order a couple of drinks. While I wait I feel someone bump into me. I turn around and am about to tell them to watch where they're going. My eyes go wide when I see who's standing before me. 

"Y/N, hi how are you?" 

"James." You take pleasure when you see him cringe at the name. "I'm good, how are you and that girl you're seeing, what was her name again? Donna, Dora." I feign innocence as I incorrectly guess her name. 

"Dot, and we're fine." 

I follow his gaze towards a redhead who's getting a little too close to another man. "Looks like it." I turn and grab my drinks ready to leave this situation. " I should get going, Peggy's waiting." 

"Wait. Before you go I wanted to apologize for everything I did. I didn't mean-" 

I cut him off before he could finish his sentence. "I'm gonna stop you right there, if you were going to say you didn't mean to hurt me then I don't want to hear it. You knew exactly what you were doing and you knew exactly what it would do to me once I found out and honestly at this point I really don't care." 

I take a step towards him and with a smile on my face tried to sound as sincere as possible. "I hope you both have a wonderful life together James. I hope you go on plenty of dates and I hope you know she's the one by the end of the night. I hope you never ever felt more free and tell all your friends that you're so happy.

I hope she comes along and wrecks every one of your plans, I hope you spend your last dime to put a rock on her perfectly manicured hand. I hope she's wilder than your wildest dreams and that she's everything you're ever gonna need." I lose your smile and continue in a serious tone. "And then I hope she cheats on you like you did on me." Before he could respond I excuse myself and walk back towards my table. 

"Hey I was starting to get worried, is everything alright?" 

"Actually Peggy everything is great." I smile as we toast and down our drinks. After tonight everything feels like it'll be ok.

Tag List:

@agentmarvel13 @1v-kayla @5sos-wdw @ace-pirate @a-dancing-hufflepuff @agent-barnes40 @agreatcheesecakestudentstuff @annoylinglyaries @antclottz @avngrsinitiative @bradfordsgreekgod @babypink224221 @captainam-erika-trash @carisi-sonny @caseymcflurry @chook007 @cosmiccomicloverqueen @daniellajocelyn @doctoranon @ecamille-xo @editsbyjenny @ellieababy-blog @eternaleviee @futuremissstark @geeksareunique @genevieve-the-adventologist @gummiwormsandonedirection @henrietteoaks @hermionie-is-my-queen @imahoeforbucky @ineedmorefanfics @isabella-bby @jaemingold @jamessbarnnes @junitorials13 @katykyll @keenmarvellover @klanceiscannon14 @lady-sigyn @littlephoenix-fire @lovemarvelousfics @l0kisbitch @luckyfiction17 @ludwigvonbaethoven @maddie-laufeyson @magnificentsoulecollector @mikariell95 @mistressoftorture  @moli1497 @nanajaeminniee @orderoftheflamingflamingos @oxodianaoxo @paintballkid711 @pastelpurplexoox @peteyparkersbabyy @princessizzy36 @shallowshawn @sillydecoy @spodermanpete  @starstruckgardenstudentzonk @stuckyandsciencebros @superhero2552 @thatharrypotterfan13 @thatweirdchick147 @the-ducks-umbrella @theteapotmoth @tienna-laufeyson16 @trustme3-13   @wishiwasanavenger-archive @xalinx @yougottalovefandoms @zaza-jones @izzyisavengersupernaturaltrash

[anashins]

No Talking in the Library || Taeyong

"Losing my virginity? Better say taking someone’s virginity. Triple check."

There are still so many things you want to do in your last semester before graduation, and Taeyong is willing to help you.

_______

Skinny dipping

Partying all night long

Drinking hard shots

Dancing on a bar counter

Playing spin the bottle

Getting completely drunk

Attend an illegal rave

Kiss s/o I just met

Ditch classes

You inhaled deeply and tucked the sheet back into your dress’s pocket and out of your sight, your thoughts revolving around the last point you’ve written again.

Losing my virginity

You were already a few months into your last year of university and yet you still felt like you hadn’t experienced everything a normal college kid should have once done in their young lives.

That you hadn’t really lived so far.

Looking at your friends, they had left you behind a long time ago in the first semester already when it came down to checking off bucket lists. It wasn’t like you were too shy or stayed away from parties and boys, though. The opportunity just had never arisen, and only now you realized that it probably never would if you wouldn’t take fate into your own hands.

You were sick and tired of waiting for the perfect moment and the perfect guy.

Looking at your watch, you realized it was nearly time for your next class and that you slowly had to get going.

Passing by different bookshelves, you were pondering whether to still search for lecture here in the library to read through the weekend in preparation for the project you had to work on the next week, but you quickly resisted the urge to do so as you had already collected enough and headed straight to the door.

“Watch out!” you still heard before the next thing you felt was pain crippling your face.

Only the break of a second was needed before numbness turned into pain and shot through your nerves that even reached the tips of your fingers with the root of the ache being your nose.

“Oh my god!” you squealed and brought your hands to the middle of your face while tears welled up behind your squinted eyes.

“I’m so sorry!” a male voice said, full with panic.

When you dared to open your lids, you looked into the eyes of the guy who had banged the entry door right into her face.

“You nearly killed me!”

“I’m so sorry, y/n!”

When he mentioned your name, you turned keen-eared. Blinking through your tears, you slowly started to get a sharper view of the boy in front of you as well. Just slightly taller than you, dark hair, and an expression as shocked as yours.

You just didn’t know his name anymore.

“Does it hurt that bad? Shall we go to the ward to get a cooling pad or something?”

You shook your head and slowly brought your hands down again. The guy had a hard time biting down the smile that threatened to slip off his lips. With care, he touched your arm in a comforting gesture to reassure you.

“I’m sorry, but you totally look like Rudolph the reindeer now.”

You sniffed. “Yes, thanks to you!”

“Okay, that’s true,” he admitted and retreated his hand. “How about I make it up to you, hm?”

“Uh…” You stared at him, yet you still weren’t able to classify his familiar face.

“Hey!” You suddenly got interrupted by the library’s supervisor, a middle-aged woman who was always wearing a frown and owned the hearing of a bat. “No talking in the library! Go inside or leave, but this door has to be closed, understand?”

You nodded, and the guy made a move to pass by the librarian, but not without whispering to you “Come here!” before you disappeared into the library again, the door closing shut behind you.

Having you by his arm, he dragged you along the rows of bookshelves until he found a quiet corner in the very far back of the library. All the while when you were looking at his back, you tried to remember where you knew him from.

And then it suddenly came into your mind.

When you opened the group convo with your friends, his face would appear right next to the unsaved contact that your friend Johnny had added two days prior.

It was Lee Taeyong.

Johnny, Ten, and Jaehyun’s new roommate who you had also met once before at Johnny’s birthday party last week.

“Hey, at least your nose is not red anymore, huh?” he laughed when he came to a hold.

“Banging a door into my face again, Taeyong?” you asked back. “I have to admit, this is kind of a weird way to hit on a girl.”

“You know my name! Admittedly, even just now I wasn’t so sure whether you remembered.”

“That was true, but once the pain vanished and I looked at your back, that scene seemed very familiar to me.”

He grinned. “Johnny’s birthday party, yes, I banged a door into your face back then as well. I’m sorry, I am actually a gentleman, I just didn’t have a chance to prove it yet. I hope this isn’t becoming our thing now.“

“You mean… you banging doors into my face? I hope not, because you actually seem like a nice guy, and otherwise I have to do a runner right now. I’d like to live a few years more.”

“My roommates wouldn’t like the thought that I scared their friend away, so let’s keep this a secret, alright?”

He winked and you laughed. You liked his humor very much and were wondering why you two hadn’t talked before at Johnny’s party.

„Oh, what’s this?“

Taeyong lifted his hand and picked up something white from the floor. He inspected his finding and then frowned. The next moment, he presented something to you that hadn’t been supposed to get seen by anyone else aside from you. The sheet. Apparently it had fallen out of your pocket while hurriedly walking!

You blushed up to her ears and snatched it out of his hand. “Don’t read this!”

He shrugged. “Well… it was quite hard not to miss the significant writing while picking it up, so…”

“Ugh…” You rolled your eyes into oblivion and wished for a hole to appear right under you to vanish in there right now.

You felt your ears burning and a hot flush running down your back as you remembered the last point you had written down. A stranger knowing about your virgin life! Embarrassing!!

“Do you… actually mean this?”

“Mean what?” you questioned with a shaky voice.

You hadn’t heard the slightest tone of mockery in his voice, you then noticed, and when you dared to look at him again, his gaze was even radiating curiosity, far from scorn.

“The points on this list.”

“Please don’t make fun of me!” you defended yourself. “You don’t know me or why I did this in the first place, so…”

You wanted to quickly pass by him and escape from the scenery, but he grabbed you by your arm and made you stop.

“What I know,” he then spoke, “is that you’re a kind and funny girl, apparently looking for the full college experience, am I right? I would never make fun of someone for that.”

“Okay… thank you. And I’d prefer if you won’t tell anyone about that.”

“That’s a given.”

“So… having checked off anything yet?“

You shook her head, suddenly feeling a weird knot in your stomach. “I just made this today. But now that someone knows about it, it’s probably ridiculous.”

“I don’t think that it’s ridiculous. You just want some fun, what’s so wrong about that?”

You hadn’t looked at this from another point of view, but now Taeyong was giving you his perspective. And he sounded so nonchalant and positive about it that you suddenly didn’t feel as exposed and embarrassed as before.

“You know what I think?” he then blurted out.

“What?” Now, you grew curious.

“I think you need someone to guide you through it, and many more experiences. Go hard or go home.” He grinned. “Someone who’s done all that already.”

“And you’re such a person?” you challenged.

“Let me see.”

Taeyong took the sheet from you again and read through the list. “Skinny dipping? Check. Partying all night long? Every weekend. Drinking hard shots? Also every weekend. Dancing on a bar counter? Double check, except for that one time I fell off. Playing spin the bottle? Boring, but check. Getting completely drunk? More checks than I can remember. Attend an illegal rave? Double check. Kiss someone I just met? I’m not counting this one anymore. Ditch classes? At least once a month. Losing my virginity? Better say taking someone’s virginity. Triple check.”

“Okay I understand!” You yanked the paper out of his hand again. “You probably had a few years to experience all this, and I only have the rest of my senior year left.”

“Why the rush?” Taeyong asked.

Reluctantly, you answered, “I’m leaving the country for my PhD.”

He nodded. “I see.”

Folding the sheet in your hands, you tucked it back into your pocket. “But please don’t tell the guys, I haven’t opened up to them about my future plans yet, but I want to tell them personally when the time is right.”

“Of course.” Taeyong paused. “Well, then what’s stopping you from joining a party with me tonight to get started?”

“The fact that I barely know you yet?”

“Hm, of course, you’ve got a point.” Taeyong pursed his lips and seemed to ponder over something. “Why haven’t we really talked before though at Johnny’s birthday party?”

“I really cannot remember what happened after you’ve banged the door into my face.” You chuckled. “I probably went to cry in the bathroom and then we’ve just lost sight of each other, because you haven’t found a weird sheet from me like today.”

“So… Since you only could remember me just now, we can technically say we’ve just met, right?”

“I’d sign that.”

“Great.”

You barely had time to wonder why he was grinning from ear to ear yet again when you felt Taeyong’s lips on yours the next moment.

They were soft and warm, his movements gentle at first, and he tasted so fresh and minty, and a little bit sweet as though he had drunk some fruit juice just before. Very summerly, and very manly.

His sudden kiss had left you speechless as well as motionless in the beginning, but you, now in high spirits, started to take pleasure in this act not long after his first move as you leaned against him and were welcomed with open arms.

Taeyong was a very handsome guy, there was nothing to deny about that fact, and he was a good kisser on top of that.

His hands made your body angle so that he could circle his arms around your waist and pressed you firmly against him. With your hands, you wandered upwards and sunk your fingers into his fluffy hair just in the moment Taeyong made you part your lips to deepen the kiss with his tongue.

Of course you had kissed boys before. Just because you were still a virgin didn’t mean you had never made out with someone.

But you had never made out with someone this good before.

Although you had gotten a door into your face shortly before, you weren’t so sure whether it was truly only the aftereffects of a possible head injury or Taeyong’s uninterrupted, passionate and oh-so-good kissing or both that got you feel so lightheaded and dizzy.

But what you knew was that you were enjoying that kiss very much.

And that you wanted more.

And Taeyong apparently as well as he proved it to you when his hands curved against your buttocks, and he gently shoved you backwards until your back rested against the wall behind you.

With his fingers, he felt the tender and glowing skin under your shirt’s bottom hem, massaging the spot there lightly as your hands simultaneously grabbed onto his shoulders and pulled him so close to you that no sheet would fit in the slit between you two anymore.

Secretly kissing in the library hadn’t been written down on your agenda, but you took whatever you could get to make your last semester a memorable one.

This was so fun to you that you started to think that this bucket list that you had made wasn’t that much of a bad idea after all if every single one of the experiences would leave you that excited as kissing Taeyong.

When you parted, he was still wearing that grin that now seemed more sweet than smug to you, and you joined him.

“Kiss someone you just met? Check.”

“Well, then our meeting here didn’t go to waste after all,” you concluded.

Admittedly, you wanted more. And by the way Taeyong looked at you, still so turned on and dreamy, he didn’t seem to loathe that idea as well.

“How about putting another point up that list?”

“Such as…?” You tilted your head.

“Making out with someone you’ve just met at a party?”

You playfully looked away as though you were in deep thoughts, but to you, the answer was clear the moment he had proposed the idea to you. “I think that’s an experience I shouldn’t miss as well.”

Just as Taeyong let out a relieved laughter and leaned in to you again, you heard a familiar,

“No talking in the library!”

In front of them stood the librarian with the worst timing ever.

“Technically, we weren’t talking,“ Taeyong cleared up cheekily as he withdrew from you, and you nodded in approval.

The librarian though looked confused.

The wink Taeyong shot into your direction was only visible for you, and you blushed faintly as you agreed, “Yeah, we were anything but talking.”

„But I heard you!“ the elderly woman scolded.

“Well, we did something much more fun than talking,” Taeyong explained, but before the librarian could chide more, you laughingly escaped to the outside.

„So about the party…“ he then started as the library’s door closed behind you. „Since we’re technically no strangers anymore…“

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. „Perhaps, I’ll come to the party.“

„And then move on to check off the other points?“ He smirked.

You stuck your tongue out at him, but were really looking forward to tonight.