#how did they expect anything else than falling and cracking open?

[paper-lilypie]

what stress does to a mf

[luvjunie]

— sleepover

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

contains: fluffff! jeff and rio being realistic parents, miles being stubborn per usual

summary: miles’ parents finally agreed to letting the two of you have a sleepover, on one condition. however, miles was never the best at following directions. wc: 1,630

New york. The city that never sleeps.

The faint murmuring of bustling cars and the habitual honking of horns seeped through the tight seal of the shut apartment window; ironic in the way it somehow lulled you. An imperfect melody you welcomed—also the same one deemed a nuisance by those foreign to the chaos that naturally assimilated to comfort the longer you remained in Brooklyn. It usually helped you slip into a slumber with ease—but now— was succeeding in its attempt of doing the exact opposite.

And when you heard Miles expel a weighted, disgruntled sigh; you were led to believe the two of you had more in common with each other apart from the fact that you both lived here.

After weeks and weeks of begging, and endless explanations as to why exactly he needed his girlfriend to sleep over when they wouldn’t even get to utilize the time spent together because they were supposed to be asleep, Miles had finally convinced his mom and dad to let the two of you have a sleepover.

Fun, right?

Yeah, well you thought it’d be. Until his mom insisted the two of you bring your pillows and blankets and fantasies of your life as a matured couple to the living room and sleep out there. Six feet away from each other. You guys were practically social distancing like it was 2019 all over again.

The curt reasoning she offered included something about her not wanting the two of you in his room alone at night; not that she thought her son would actually be dumb enough to do anything along those lines with her in the house. You loved Mama Rio, but even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. This was her house, and that meant you had to follow her rules. The fact that you were even able to come over as much as you did was a blessing in itself, so you took everything else in stride.

Miles let you take the couch of course, and he was currently sprawled out on his back on the floor, a pillow tucked beneath his head as he studied the minuscule cracks in the ceiling as if they truly interested him. Scrolling through his instagram timeline had gotten old fairly quickly, and at 1:00AM in the morning, neither of you were really motivated enough for conversation.

You were more than grateful to spend a night with your boyfriend, but this wasn’t necessarily how you expected it to go. Whenever you guys would hang out during normal hours of the day, you’d always end up in his embrace, curled and cuddled into each other comfortably. Whatever movie or tv-show you’d put on in the background begging for the same attention you’d give each other. After growing used to such a routine, that was really the only way you could fall asleep at his house.

But alas, holding your pillow close to you instead of him would have to suffice, you decided, as you let your eyes close once again.

“Baby?” Miles called out into the darkness, lip chewed in anticipation.

Silence.

He’d said only a word but you knew better than to engage. A conversation would end up with the two of you in trouble in the morning, so you pretended to be asleep.

“I know you’re awake. I counted exactly three seconds between your last two breaths and when you’re asleep it slows down to five.”

You stifled a laugh, ultimately blowing your cover. “Okay, now that’s just creepy.”

“People who are asleep don’t laugh!” he quipped.

A smile snuck onto your lips and you hadn’t the heart to reprimand it, lids peeling back open to stare up at the same ceiling he was.

“Yes, Miles?”

“Can you not fall asleep either, or have I become an insomniac all of a sudden?” The question came with a sigh, long arms spread to their full wingspan as he tried to count how many full rotations the ceiling fan made in a minute. That was how bored he was.

You sighed disappointedly, toying with the frayed tassels on your blanket. A moue on your face. “No, I can’t fall asleep either.”

“I think I know why.” he sung the last word in suggestion, hands absentmindedly drumming against his abdomen.

“Miles,” you warned, letting your head fall to the side so you could stare at the top of his head and address him directly. “Your mom gave very specific instructions, and personally, I would like to return home to mine with my head still on my shoulders.” grumbling your response, you shoved down the urge to invite him up there with you like your mind was telling you to.

He propped himself up on an elbow at that, eyes immediately making contact with yours. Your first mistake was not looking away, because those pretty pools of hazel were already starting to convince you and he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet.

“But how is that fair?” he complained, sounding exasperated. “We take naps together all the time when you’re here, I just wanna cuddle with you.” he sulked, as if you were the one who’d come up with the rule. Never in a million years would you submit the both of you to this kind of torture. You loved falling asleep in his arms.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Well, yeah. But that’s during the day, when she can check on us anytime she wants to. I don’t think your mom wants us that close to each other at night for,” The last part of your sentence faded to a jumbled murmur as your gaze traveled back to the ceiling. “…obvious reasons.”

He impishly raised a brow as if he didn’t know what you were referring to, chin resting in the palm of his hand. With only the faded lights of the city to illuminate the living room, the cheeky smile on his face went unnoticed, though you could hear it in the tone of his voice, loud and clear.

“And what reasons are those?” Miles asked, feigning innocence. His long lashes blinking at you.

Hand smacking to your forehead, you recited a silent prayer, a plea for strength. It was beginning to look like you weren’t going to get yourself out of this. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

His hand gestured to the air, plainly. “Well obviously. But still, we’re not dumb. That’s why I always take you to the roof when we—“

“Miles Gonzalo Morales do not finish that sentence!”

He snorted at the squeak of your voice and you used your pillow to hide your heated face.

“This is not going to help us fall asleep.” your irritated statement was muffled from the fabric of the pillowcase.

He hummed. “Exactly, meaning there’s only one thing left to try.” Slow to catch on, you didn’t realize what he meant until you felt the couch dip from the weight of his knee.

A hand trickled up the exposed skin of your thigh and it stopped when it met your sleep-shorts clad hip, the pillow snatched from your face and tossed onto the floor where he previously resided just a second ago.

“What are you—?”

He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the cushion beside your waist to hold himself up. Your question fell short when he swiftly parted your legs with his other hand and comfortably slotted his body between your thighs. A relieved sigh escaped him, his cheek nuzzling into the soft of your chest when he laid on top of you. His favorite way to cuddle.

“Shhh, trying to sleep.” murmuring a dismissive answer to your query, he let his eyes flutter to a close and snaked his arms around your waist, forearms cradling the curve of your back.

Contrary to the fight you were putting up just a minute ago— your arm curled over the expanse of his shoulders, fingers idly twirling at the baby curls that dusted the nape of his neck, something you always did to help him fall asleep faster. He let out a low, satisfied sound and relaxed into you completely, his hold on you tightening. While a part of you wanted to protest, an even bigger part wanted to remain under him like this. His weight was comforting; made you feel secure in the way a weighted blanket did.

“Your mom is not going to be happy with us.” you reminded him, stretching your other arm down enough to grab your blanket and pull it up over the two of you.

“It’s worth it. I’ll happily take the blame,” he drawled sleepily, snuggling in closer to the kiss that grazed his forehead. “I love you…” The laggard pace to his words let you know he was already dozing off, and you smiled, fatigue finally catching up with you too.

“I love you, Miles.”

— extra scene

Jeff stood in silence, arms folded over his broad chest and lips puckered awkwardly. Rio occupied the space next to him, hands perched on her wide hips, fingers tapping against them and her jaw clenched in disapproval. Her expression was everything but amused at the scene in front of them. He stole a tactful glance at his wife every two seconds, silently trying to gauge how irritated she was without having to ask her.

Sometime during the night you and Miles had switched places, and now his lanky legs were draped over the arm of the small couch and you were on top of him, clung to his body like a wet T-shirt, face barely visible seeing as it was nestled into the crook of his neck. With his mouth hanging slack as he loftily snored, Rio felt her eye almost twitch while she stared down at her stubborn son, who seemed to have magically teleported from his assigned spot on the floor and into yours instead.

“Well, I coulda told’ya that would happen.” Jeff said quietly with a laid-back shrug, to which Rio responded with a back-handed swat to his chest.

“Ow!”

Through her aggravation she still kept her voice low as to not wake the two of you, eyes narrowed at her husband. “I am going to strangle this boy, Jeff. Dios ayudame. ¡Tu hijo nunca escucha! (God help me, your son never listens!)” she griped, gesturing towards Miles’ arm that was loosely circled around your waist. She tramped down the hall, hands tossed up in defeat while she grumbled something incoherent under her breath.

Lips downturned into an offended frown, Jeff coddled his chest with his palm and followed after her, voice kicked up an octave like a nagging child. “Why is he only my son when he does something you don’t like? We made him together!”

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated 💗

[toji-girl]

t. fushiguro

original ask: TOJI X CRYBABY GIRLFRIEND‼️ toji being an asshole to his wimpy gf and regretting it instantly..?

tags; fem reader + angst with happy ending + fighting + pet names + repost from my old blog

After a long day of physical work, the only thing that was on Toji's mind was coming home and falling into bed but knew he had to take a shower first to wash away the layer of grime off before getting in the bed.

When you heard the door open you smiled and greeted your boyfriend at the door with an array of facial kisses as you all but melted into his arms causing him to grunt, usually, he loves you being all clingy and all about him but right now he was too tired.

"I need a shower," Toji told you pressing a fleeting kiss to your temple before disappearing down the hallway shedding his clothes not caring about the mess he made as you followed after picking it up.

He expected you to follow him and that only tightened his jaw as he pulled back the curtain with a heavy sigh, one that spoke a weight of pure exhaustion. You kept talking about your day asking about his.

Toji stood under the water watching it circle the drain, his thoughts elsewhere not listening to your gabbing. "Are you even listening? I asked you how your day was baby." Your voice was soft as you peeked your head in the shower to look at him looking at him with pure love.

He turned and looked at you, his face screwed up in irritation. "No, I'm not, can you just shut up for a moment and give me peace? All you do is talk and talk, I've had a long day if you haven't noticed so just leave me alone." His voice was hard as he stared at you, your face filled with hurt as tears gathered in your eyes as you shut the curtain and frowned.

"Shit - I'm sorry babe, I didn't -"

You didn't give him more time to say anything else before you were out of the bathroom with tears streaming down your face, and sure he's snapped at you and vice versa but this time felt different.

The pain was a physical ache that manifested in your belly like a heavy rock as you settled into the bed under the covers hearing the door crack open a few seconds later to reveal Toji clad in his boxers.

"I'm an asshole for speaking to you that way, today was long...but that doesn't give me the right to say what I did, I'm sorry. I'll let you slap me?" He suggested trying to ease the tension that cloaked the both of you.

His footsteps were softened by the carpet as he walked further in to settle on the edge of the bed to peel back the covers to look at you.

Toji knew that ever since you could remember you've been a bit more sensitive than others, crying at movies that weren't sad or even sappy, TV commercials, or seeing a family of animals snuggling.

And he also knew he wasn't good with these types of things, words were not his thing but for you, he was changing his ways and now you were being drawn into his arms, his face nuzzled into your neck.

He dried your tears with his thumbs gazing down at you, his eyes were unreadable. "That was a dick move." You muttered looking away letting him stroke your back with rough fingertips.

"I'm a dickhead at times, I know but I am sorry, I never want to hurt my baby girl." He replied in a softer tone, and you knew he changed, the man you met two years ago, the wall around him was strong and stood fierce but you took it down, brick by brick turning him into a softer man.

You gave into the pull and wrapped your arms around his neck squeezing him. "I love you so much I want to hug your neck with my hands sometimes." You told him causing a chuckle to rumble his chest.

"I love you too and I don't think you're the only one, but you get the first privilege." He teased making you laugh, the air now charged with something else as you both gazed at each other tenderly.

His large hand cupped your cheek bringing your face closer to his to close the distance between your lips. "Let me hear about your day then I'll tell you about mine, but first let me grab something."

You watched as he left only to return with your favorite snacks and drinks before settling back into the bed and pulling you onto his lap to talk about your days and make plans for the weekend.

Toji couldn't help but feel a pang in his heart still at the way he spoke to you, and he knew that you changed him because prior to meeting you hurting people didn't matter to him one bit really but now?

He can't stand seeing you sad or heartbroken, you're his crybaby who he loves so much.

[avtrxxx]

Neteyam keep his little human in a cage and feeds her his cock through the bars 🙏

My little pet

Neteyam x female human reader (aged up)

A/n: Sooo... I wanted to write smut for a while now and I finally got the chance! Love you anonie <3

Warnings: blowjob, mentions of kidnapping, dom/sub

🔞Minors do not interact!🔞

Cold bars against the thin skin on your back, making you feel all cold. Your bottom lip trembled and your hands shook, eye lids barely staying open anymore. The lack of food was making its appearance since this morning, your stomach growling every now and then.

Neteyam loved you more than you knew, more than you expected. He was obsessed with you. You were the prettiest little thing he had ever laid his eyes on. The first time your intoxicating scent invaded his nose, he knew you were meant to be his.

So, over time he tried getting closer to you. He always brought you cooked meat after every hunt and when he came back from a long trip, he brought you satchels full of beautiful colored stones. He even started courting you but you didn't know.

You were the lab kid who never put a foot outside. So when he started bringing you those things and handmade jewelry, you thought he was just acting nice and was a good friend. But in reality, he was trying to get to your heart, whether you wanted it or not.

That's how you found yourself naked, sitting in a cage for two weeks. He fed you regularly but when you talked back to him, he punished you by giving you too much or he simply didn't feed you for that day.

What you told him the last day angered him very much. You had the guts to shout at him, and told him how much you hate being trapped with him. He didn't allow you to eat or drink anything since then, and your fight took place yesterday morning. You haven't had something go down your throat for more than 24 hours.

Suddenly, the door cracked open and Neteyam entered, his long legs carrying him to you. Neteyam crouched down next to your cage, looking down at you. He slid his large hand through the bars from above you and caressed your head, his fingers lost in your hair. You hated him with all your heart but something about his touch was so... soothing.

"Poor little thing... Your master didn't let you eat, did he? He's such a bad guy." Neteyam mocked you, his fingers rubbing your scalp.

Your eyes burned holes into his skull but you couldn't bring yourself to speak. You just wanted it all to end but he wouldn't let you go, not before you accept being his mate. And even if you did, he'd still be careful. He wouldn't want his little pet to run away.

"You're my little pet. You know that, right? No one else deserves you but me, my love. Your heart beats for me, you live for me." his gentle voice entered your mind, his sweet words making you fall deeper and deeper into his trap.

But he enjoyed seeing you so helpless and in need of help. After all, he was the only one who could help you right now. He was the only one who could make you feel vulnerable and proud of yourself, your mood depending on his.

A growl was heard from your stomach and Neteyam didn't let that go unnoticed. He chuckled and changed his position, standing on his knees.

"Looks like my pet is hungry." Neteyam moved his loincloth to the side, and his erect cock sprung free, slapping against his lower abdomen.

You still couldn't get over his length. The size of his cock was something that always amazed you, but it also frightened you. Since he kidnapped you, he gave it to you non-stop but every time felt like the first time over and over again.

Neteyam wrapped his hand around his cock, giving it a few strokes before he came closer. Neteyam wrapped the chain that was holding you tied to the floor of the cage by your neck around his forearm, dragging you closer. He pointed his cock your way, aligning it with your mouth. The tip leaked with precum, wetting your lips.

You wanted to pull away but his grip was too strong, and the bagging on the chains brought pain in your neck and wrists.

"Come on, pet. Take a taste. I know you're hungry." Neteyam smirked down at you, sliding his cock past your lips. He moaned at the feeling of your warm mouth enveloping his cock.

He thrusted in deeper, and deeper, till his tip was hitting the back of your throat. He knew he couldn't fit all of himself inside your small mouth, but it was worth the try.

He started moving slowly, and his eyes rolled back as he pulled the chain harder. You struggled with his size, trying to keep your head in place as he fucked your mouth though he bars.

"Shit! You feel so good, little pet." He moaned, thrusting harder into your mouth. Your gag reflexes activated and you choked around him, trying to spit him out. But he simply wouldn't let you.

"Stop trying to run away. You're staying here with me, whether you like it or not." he rolled his hips into your mouth, feeling himself getting closer.

"Mm~...look how well you're taking me. Like this mouth of yours was made for my cock." he pulled the chain harder, making you hit your face right into the bars as he ravaged your throat.

"Fuuck... I'm so close." he finally shot his load down your throat, still not letting you go. You felt your mouth get filled with his cum. You didn't need to think twice and swallowed his seed, hoping to get all of it. He kept thrusting his hips into your face, riding his own high. Your nose met his pubic bone with every stroke and you couldn't help but inhale deeply. His scent was so musky and manly that you wanted it to be your oxygen.

He pulled out of your mouth and let go of the chain, watching you fall on your back. You were gasping for air, your lungs aching. Fortunately, you managed to swallow even the last drop of his seed. You weren't afraid of what was to happen if you didn't but you WANTED to swallow it all.

"Such a good girl I got for myself." Neteyam chuckled, a smirk planted on his lips. He eyed your tired form and without a second thought, he took the key from the pocket of his cock. He approached the locker and put the key inside before he rolled it to the side.

You watched as the locker fell from the gate of your cage and Neteyam's large hands opened it, inviting you outside. You laid in there for a moment before he took hold of the chain and pulled you out forcefully.

He grabbed you by your neck and kissed you, his large hand almost cutting off your circulation. His tongue swirled around yours, sucking on it before he let go. You moaned into the kiss and gripped at his broad shoulders, drawing him closer.

He pulled back from the kiss, a line of saliva connecting your lips to his. His yellow eyes looked into yours, now swallowed by the darkness of his pupils. He ran his thumb over your bottom lip, collecting your mixed spit.

"You look so pretty like this. All mine." he whispered in a deep voice, lust written all over his face. You felt yourself getting wetter at his voice.

"But you have to stay mine. You have to stay in your cage until you get my trust again." your eyes widened as you froze on the spot. You thought you made him happy and proud enough to finally set you free. But you were wrong...so wrong.

Slowly, Neteyam got hold of your chain and dragged you back into your cage. He closed the gate behind you and locked it with the key, dropping it in his loincloth after. You were looking up at him with your sad eyes and pout, begging him for some mercy.

"Aww, don't cry. I'll be back later." he said, caressing your head one more time before he left the abandoned building, leaving you alone too.

[chvnnie]

a/n: no smut! just some angst w a somewhat happy ending! idk it just came to me! bye!

The water droplets that cling to your back stick you to the bathroom door. Hair too damp, the water spilling down your nude body and dripping to the floor. Plop, plop, plop as if the liquid has a heartbeat of its own. Eyes shut, you focus on the soft sound to slow your breathing. Maybe, just maybe, if you try hard enough, you can evaporate with the water.

Anything would be better than this.

There’s a dull knock on the other side of the door. His head lulling back against the wood, level with yours. The sound of his breathing is too loud, drowning out your treasured drops of water.

“Are you ready to talk to me?”

Your eyes open, red and stinging from the shampoo you lathered in just moments ago. Purposely not rinsing properly, you let it roll down your face. Seep into your eyes. It was nice, a distraction from the feeling of your heart being ripped from your rib cage.

It beats on the other side of the door.

He sighs, and there’s another thud. As if he’s turned, forehead now pressed against the wood. “Baby, just say something.”

The taste on your tongue. Mouthwash burns it, yet that name overpowers its strength. Baby. It makes your stomach churn. Your lip trembles, nose wobbling along with it. If tears fall, it’s the shampoo.

It’s been days since you haven’t fought. Everything. Everything requires a war, the fight not stopping until you’re both broken and bloodied. Voices raw, achy. Heads throbbing. There’s been little reprieve.

Tonight was the night your white flag was raised. When he came home late, tie loosened and curls threaded as if fingers danced through them. He greeted you with a kiss to your cheek before dropping his stuff on the unused kitchen table. It took you a moment, too consumed in washing the dishes, for you to notice.

“It’s after eight.” You say, turning off the water.

“Yeah. Yeah, I got caught up in something.”

“For like, three and a half hours?” It’s impossible to stop the chuckle of disbelief. “It isn’t even your busy season.”

You know him better than yourself. Like the back of your hand, everything about him etched into your brain. Your entire soul, flesh, blood. Without even looking, you know he’s chewing his cheek, unfastening his cuff links. “Can we not do this tonight, please?”

“Not a text, not a call—“

“I’m so tired.”

“So am I.” Your words catch in your throat, sobs on the precipice. The last bit of energy you have is used to stomp them down. “You could have at least told me—“

“What do you think I was doing?” What is heavier in his tone — the pain or the frustration? “Do you think I was cheating? Off fucking someone else?”

It almost shames you, the fact that it did cross your mind. There are no other signs that point to that, nothing to really give you reason to think that. It’s the build up — the weeks of back and forth, never finding a middle ground unless he’s buried inside you. You’re so fucking exhausted. It would almost be easier to think there was another woman than to admit what it actually is.

Even thinking it feels like swallowing glass.

“You do.” He scoffs, throwing his tie on the table. “You really do.”

“Chan—“

“I fucking love you.” His voice is strained, tears like a waterfall. “Don’t you get that?”

“I don’t!” You snap back, forcefully removing the rubber cleaning gloves. The fall in the sink with a splash. “Do you really think fighting every night is love? This push and this pull, I’m so fucking sick of it.” You turn to the staircase, anxiety building in your chest so quickly. You need to get out of here, to get away from all of this.

As your foot hits the first step, the glass shatters. Your ribs cracked open, raw and exposed.

“I want a divorce.”

How can he expect you to talk to him after he says something like that? You replay the moment in your mind over and over again, the words louder each goddamned time. With a shaky breath, your hands cover your face. Nails in your scalp. Numb.

Chan is sniffling. What you don’t see on the other side of the door is the waves of regret. Salty and bitter, twisting around his ankles to pull him deep. Those four fucking words. They made you still, body immediately tense. The mere seconds you stood there felt like eons. Right when his hand reached out, ready to take it all back, you climb up. All too quick.

Why did he say something he didn’t really mean? For you, he would bring the moon to earth. Hang the stars above your bed. Crawl into the depths of the earth and break it down from the inside, watching it collapse with you. He’s tried, many times, to describe his love for you and nothing can come close. It’s bigger than him.

Bigger than this.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, choking softly on his tears. “I don’t know why I said it. I just—“ his inhale is shaky, like he’s unable to fully catch his breath. “—I don’t even know. Baby, please, please come out.”

Your entire soul. The start of time and the end of it. Every planet that ever was, that ever will be. No matter how hard you push, how badly you want to step away.

When the handle turns, he falls to his knees.

Shards of glass pierce your skin from head to toe, digging deeper when the agony he’s feeling hits you. It’s written across his face, etched into his gaze. Sorry. Sorry isn’t close to enough.

You tilt your head down, looking at your husband for the first time in hours. This isn’t the same man that left your house this morning; jaded, empty. This is the man you fell in love with.

“I’m sorry.” He cries, bowing down until his red cheek is flush against your foot. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“

Despite the words that have seeped into the walls around you, the foundation of your home all but quaking from the hate and anger that it’s been pelted with. Despite the fact that your heart lay, covered in glass and bled out on the floor next to him. You believe him.

If he really meant it, he would have taken his ring off. 

[johnnys-breastmilk]

I think I might've cracked the pajama pant code ™: it's around the holiday season & Wally invites his teammates for a ~guys only sleepover~ but because it's so close to Christmas (which Wally doesn't celebrate, to incorporate Milo being Jewish), nobody else but the reader shows up as a result of having a deep crush on Wally. When the reader arrives, Wally is already wearing those pants (school colors, of course) & the reader can clearly tell nothing else underneath them. The reader tries to brush that aside and the extremely intimate touches from Wally throughout the night while trying to distract him from how much of a bust the ~sleepover~ was, but one thing naturally leads to another when the night winds down & Wally asks the reader to sleep next to him.

the pj pants code™ | wally clark x male!reader

a/n — i want to preface this by saying i am not jewish, and while I did research and made sure to give what i thought was an accurate representation, please let me know if any of what i have depicted is innacurate or offensive. thanks! went light on the smut because i enjoyed writing the build up and having that as the focus more, anon!

summary — check the ask!

warnings — light smut at the end, angst and fluff

words — 7k (i yapped a lot in this one.)

~~~

Wally Clark couldn’t stand December. Sometimes, he literally couldn’t stand it. The snow and ice created a deadly walk to his car in the early mornings and he had his fair share of slips and slides down the path leading to it. Then he had to pray that his rear-wheel drive and manual stick shift didn’t create a nasty combination on the roads, and when he finally made it to school, he parked his car along a line of many others just like his—boxy, dynamically pointed. The same spot, always open, and always so far away from the school itself. Sure, it was right behind the building, but he hated stepping into the cold air after finding comfort in the heated enclosure of his black Chevrolet Bel-Air. The school air wasn’t much better once he was finally inside the building, feeling stale yet fresh with frustration and fatigue from everyone around him. It was a mood he actively contributed to during this time of the year.

He was able to blend in—in so many ways, but December was the one month where he felt anything but normal during it. He started the month feeling different. Everyone complained about the holiday jingles plaguing the radio, and subsequently, their boomboxes and home stereos housing more than half a dozen stations for it, but it didn’t pertain to Wally, so he never really gave an opinion on it. The only holiday songs he ever heard were sung dissonantly by his family for eight nights in a row—there was a reason he was the only Clark in the house to take choir. Then the first half of the month was a slog to get through, having to juggle school and football championships after endless classes and traditions upon returning home. Then, before he knew it, the cycle started all over again the next day. The second half of the month felt a bit better but worse at the same time. Winter break wasn’t filled with the hectic Christmas holiday like so many of his other peers had to endure, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something every year. Thankfully, at the end of the month, he got to slide right back into the crowd on New Year’s Eve. His friends could expect the same old pair of Nike’s falling into the same old spot he took up at their house, watching the ball drop on the television without anyone to kiss when the year reset. 

That’s why he tried to host a sleepover the first night of break—and, coincidentally for him, the last night of Hanukah. Little was left of the holiday, and his parents were out of town for work, so his plate seemed pretty light. “No girls,” his parents said. It was their only restriction besides the usual anti-partying and drugs lecture they gave before they left. Wally wasn’t complaining about that one bit. There was only one guy he wanted to actually see at his sleepover, but he had to be smart about it. He couldn’t invite just one guy, especially if he turned out to not show. He cared about his other teammates, so he decided to invite everyone on the team as they had made it through the entire football season with more wins than losses—that was his alibi. 

You were the last one to hear about his sleepover, mostly because you had one class with him in the morning and only saw him in after-school activities like the weight room and the athletics club. The morning class had a test right before the break, and the extracurriculars officially wrapped up last week in preparation for the week or so in which you wouldn’t see each other. That meant that he had to catch you in passing, and he always saw you on the way to his last class. 

He called your name along with a quick, stopping you in the hall, “Hey!”

You turned and smiled once you realized it was him who had pulled your attention. He continued as you got closer to each other, “I’m having a sleepover hangout type of thing. That makes it sound a lot lamer than it actually is. Trust me, it’ll be super fun. Exclusive, and you’re on the list.”

“And I’m invited because?” You asked, already knowing that you would eventually give him a “yes, I’ll be there.” Eventually. You wanted to get a rise out of him first, to know that he was inviting you for the reasons you thought he was.

“Because you…” Wally trailed, pursing his lips and looking off to your left as he searched for the words in passerby’s face. He couldn’t look at yours because he’d say something dumb. By looking anywhere else, he had a fighting chance to make it out of the conversation alive.  “…you’re part of the team, duh. Everyone will be there.”

“I’m the safety. I basically do nothing all match.” You continued, “The coach benches me during workouts, dude.”

“That’s not true, you’re good when we’re balls deep!” Wally heard himself and corrected it, fast. “Deep balls and goals—I mean. How many goals have you stopped?” 

“Like, two? One, probably.” You averted his gaze, knowing that it would break any semblance of doubt you expressed. He was always good at clearing the moody air, and this time was no different.

He reassured, “Just one time is enough.”

“Someone was listening at the ‘Just Say No’ assembly.” You laughed, remembering how you were caught up in staring at the boy a row down from you during the assembly. They had grouped all of the footballers together, touting you to the other students by showing that success can happen without drugs. But you definitely weren’t bothered enough to listen, hooked on the rush of the boy in front of you. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

He did a quick notion of victory, clenching his fist and pumping his towards himself. “I knew you’d say yes! Okay, my house, tonight. Don’t miss it.”

Wally walked away with a giddy gallop in his step, as if he was about to jump up and click his heels together. He didn’t, but in his mind, he was happily trotting down the hall to his last class. The bounce in his step was nonexistent yet entirely palpable as the soles of his worn-out Nike’s felt like a freshly puffed cloud. Unsalvageable, the night was not.

Only a few hours went by before you found yourself about to reunite with Wally for the second time today, You didn’t count second period because of the test, but this would make up for the lost time you would have gotten to spend goofing off with him in that class. Unfortunately, several teachers decided to rain hell on you and assign homework that would all be due the day you got back, so you had to clear that out of the way first. You hoped that it hadn’t sucked up too much of the night, since you pulled into Wally’s driveway around eight. It was a bad sign that his car was the only one there, a fact now untrue thanks to your hunk of junk coming to a halt next to his. You put it in park, grabbed your bag from the passenger seat, and started your ascent up the small path leading to his front door. 

You couldn’t help but notice the lack of decorations along his front lawn. His parents seemed well off, having a decently sized garage attached to their already big house. You couldn’t imagine the square footage without the garage, it must have been over a couple thousand. The bottom half of his house was covered in red brick, looking darker in the moonlight, and the second story was a calming shade of light blue. The windows were nothing special, ordinary but you were sure that they gave insight into something deeper within the house. All of them were empty and dark, except for the one next to his front door. It had a menorah inside that looked indiscernible from the road, that’s why you didn’t see it initially. Each of the branches had a candle in it and were illuminated. The curtain was pulled back to prevent a fire, but it gave you a brief glimpse into the Clark household. It looked empty, and no noise could be heard from your position outside of the house. Was anyone home?

If it was just you and Wally, maybe this would be the night. The night where everything would finally make sense. For the entirety of your senior year, Wally and you just felt different. There was no explanation for it, you had known him since the seventh grade, when you joined the football team, yet this year had been such a turning point for you and him. You hung out with him several times and went to drive-in movie theaters and found the fun in mundane gas stations, where life is supposed to feel boring. Wally made everything feel okay, at the very least. He made them tolerable, and he even had a force to pull you to his house on the twenty-first of December. The answer to a question burning in your mind could come tonight—did he like you back? You decided to stomach any reluctance and knock. A figure moved past the window, causing each flame to move with it. Then, the door opened.

“Ready to go to bed already?” You asked, looking him up and down. He was in a white tee shirt, blue and white pajama pants, and a pair of white socks. It was so lazy yet carefully reminded you of your history. The blue and white linens alluded to the school’s color scheme, probably something he bought as one of those athlete packages that bundle pairs of sweatpants and exercise gear together. They looked nice on him, loosely swinging from his legs and tightening to fit his narrow hips near the top. His shirt was crisp, unwrinkled, and a perfect blank canvas. Food and dirt had yet to splatter over it in his moments of action, yet it looked like it was small enough to make his movements more revealing. The hem of his shirt just barely covered the waistband of his pants. All of it was tied together with his golden necklace lying over his shirt.

“Being the life of the party by myself is tiring.” He said, acting as if no one else showing up was normal. He didn’t notice your prolonged stare, too happy that you actually showed up. “If only some other people were here to help me out.”

Wally moved to the side to let you in, and you really got to scope out the place. You two were the only beating hearts in there. Aside from the red blood keeping the both of you warm and present, his house was made of cool tones—blue curtains flowing down the length of his windows to block anyone out and a white shag rug filling most of his living room, from what you could immediately see. In front of the door were the stairs leading to the second floor, and to the right was his living room—the menorah finding itself tucked away in the windowsill of that room. On the left looked to be a dining room, but you couldn’t be completely sure, the obscured shape of a table leg and one chair led you to believe there was more to it. The back wall of the living room had a rectangular hole cut out of it, a white stove in view. Everything looked as it was, and Wally seemed to have spent the first night of holiday break lounging on his white couch with brown hairline stripes running along the upholstery and cushions. An Atari rested on the short brown coffee table in front of it alongside some cartridges, cables running to the television set, where more games were stacked inside of the surrounding cabinets. Yeah, he had definitely spent his afternoon alone.

“It’s the holiday. That’s why no one came.” You weren’t about to say something about his optimism. He planned this event with sincerity, so you treated it the same. Nothing about how he had planned a sleepover with only dudes, and how you could easily remark that “this was something only eighth-grade girls do.” Nope, you weren’t going to point that out, no matter how much you wanted to poke fun at him. But you did offer a bit of light to the situation, “Just one guest is enough for a sleepover, anyways.”

You turned to flash him a sign of sympathy, but you noticed that Wally had occupied himself with fixing the blue tinsel lining the inner side of the doorframe. With his hands up high and his shoulders carrying his shirt with them, it revealed his torso. You couldn't tell if the lack of a brief line, something indicated whether or not he wore anything under those loose linens, was because of how baggy they were or because he wasn't wearing anything underneath. He provided the answer to your question almost a second later by reaching higher than he should be in a shirt that small. His shirt rode up and nothing was there, no waistband leading to his boxers peeking out from underneath. Nothing. His pants clung tightly to his waist in the same way that your own eyes wouldn’t leave them.

“There.” Wally boasted. “Now we can get the party started.”

“Yeah, totally. Uh, what did you have in mind?”

He circled back around to you, “Video games, all-nighter, alone time?”

“So I packed pajamas for nothing?” Your bag started to feel heavy in your hand with the weight of pointlessness. Wally was quick to reassure you.

“No, no, no. They’re the entrance fee for this party. The bathroom’s right up the stairs and to the left.” He had placed his hand around your shoulders as he neared you, making sure that the directions he gave with his other hand were clear enough for you to follow. He couldn’t help but think about how he was already giving you directions to go deeper into his house. You didn’t want to leave, you actually made an effort to show up—and stuck with the theme! This was his chance to tip the first domino in his favor, closing in on the gap between his mouth and your ear. Whispering, he lets out, “And… my room’s right next door if you’d feel more comfortable in there.”

Wally didn’t make you say your choice out loud, so you shot him a quick “thanks” and parted ways from his closeness to get changed. Going up the carpeted stairs, you were greeted with the choice of two doors; both on the left side of the hall, the one closest to you was the bathroom door, shut but completely blank compared to the door a few feet past it—the door to Wally’s room, decorated with adorned with several posters about football and famous musicians you had seen the CDs for in his car. Your feet dragged themselves across the carpet, taking the extra steps to reach his bedroom and turning the handle of the door with care. It was less shiny, the gold finish rubbing off to reveal the copper handle underneath. Wally was prone to having his door shut more often, you figured. Pushing the door open slowly, you let yourself take in the room in quick glimpses as more of it was revealed to you. 

The color coordination was nonexistent as everything clashed with itself. It doesn’t feel like something curated, but lived in. It doesn’t have the smell of a department store, it has the smell of a week-old jock in the laundry basket and hastily sprayed cologne to cover the scent. It reminded you of a night where the same smell filled the air of a locker room at an away game. You were sitting on the same bench as him in the same locker dwelling, alone. He was in just his jersey because he needed a second to breathe. Something was tugging at him, making it impossible to finish the night off in his regular clothes. That’s where Wally admitted that he didn’t know where to apply to college to take advantage of his skills, mostly because he didn’t care enough. “My parents will figure it out,” he said. At the time, it sounded like a lazy excuse, but his room proved it to be a surrender in the pursuit of who he wanted to be. Posters plastered themselves on the wall in clusters just like on the outside of his bedroom door. The densest area of the room was right above his bed, filled with drawings to partially cover the posters of famous athletes. At least his bed was an escape from the mess he had to wake up to everyday, the linens on it likely made for the first time in weeks upon your arrival. Blue sheets, like he was caught in an ocean of thought with a grey comforter being his raft to shore. Next to the bed, on the floor, were several sleeping bags strewn out with less care than he had given to his bed. And by the time you got to the last sleeping bag arranged on the floor, your eyes landed on his dresser—painted white but made of brown wood as the paint had chipped around its stubby legs. There were a few windows filling the room, the curtains were closed to stop anyone from peering into the second-story room and getting a view of you changing. While you stripped down to the essentials, you looked around. The rest was all standard stuff you had, a desk with his letterman hanging off the back of the chair slid into it, a smaller television than the one downstairs, and some other random trinkets from vacations and whatnot.

Then, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the full-body mirror hanging on the back of his door. Exposed in Wally’s room without his watchful eye to catch all the things you wanted to show him, but never could. You wanted to give yourself to him, but what if it was a joke? What if he didn’t invite anyone else? The worst question you kept asking yourself was, what would happen if this was real? If it was all fake, you could forget about it—forget about him. But if it was real, you would have to come to terms that things would be different after this one night. After that one move that will finally seal everything inside a neat little letter, addressed to you either way but the contents remained uncertain. As far as you were concerned, the letter was still being written. Maybe you both had a hand in writing something on it, just like how you two drew on each other’s papers in class when you were bored or found the lecture to be unimportant.

Heading back downstairs with a new layer of comfy clothes on, Wally greeted you with a pen and paper in his hand. He was in the middle of scribbling down his order while holding the paper against the wall, pen haphazardly flying through each line on the small sheet. “Perfect timing, I figured that we could order pizza and then do stuff while we wait.”

“What about the others?” Your mind went back to the numerous silky sleeping bags contrasting against his carpet. No one would be filling them tonight, and you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of it.

“Let’s face it—they’re not coming!” He stated almost happily. Deep down, Wally hoped that others might stop by and show their faces for a few minutes at the very minimum. 

You conceded, “I mean if you’re fine with us having some alone time over pizza… then I’m not going to complain.”

Wally finished writing down his order and peeled the paper from the wall, handing it over to you along with the pen in one pass. You took it, filling out the lines neatly. His writing was scrambled, but if he could read the chicken scratch that was his own handwriting, he could surely read yours. You saved yourself the pain of reading his order, hoping that he didn’t go for something gross like sardines and pineapple. His mouth would have to be kept far, far away from you if that were the case.

To pass the time after he phoned in the order, Wally suggested that you return to his Atari, still paused on what looked to be an intense game of Space Invaders. The pizza place claimed that they would be over an hour, so this was the perfect time to just enjoy his presence and forget about everything else. He plopped himself down on the couch, kicking his feet up on the small table. While you were upstairs changing, he took the liberty of connecting a second controller to the gaming system, abandoning his current progress on a level he worked so hard to get to. The game booted up, flickering on the screen in a harsh quality, but the graphics were so advanced. Your character—the spaceship that looked identical to Wally’s aside from the tip of it having a different color than his—appeared on the screen. Both of you could move around on the bottom to shoot enemies at the top. Only a few matches in, and you were raking in more points than Wally had as he chose the ‘Endless Shooter’ mode to make it more competitive. When he felt like a sore loser, he dropped the occasional comment that you “know how to use a joystick so well because you’re always handling something so long and hard.” 

With his teasing and tense competition, the two of you almost missed the doorbell ringing. On what was probably followed by an annoyed sigh as the delivery guy rang his doorbell for the third time, Wally finally shot up to get the door. His exchange with the pizza guy was quick, the money disappearing from his hands in seconds and being replaced by two large pizza boxes. Each pizza was half-and-half, and it was intentionally done by him to make you have to share one box of pizza at a time. This was how he made his move. You didn’t know about his plan until he opened the boxes to reveal that both pies were evenly split down the middle with toppings on either side, apparently having the competition for grossest preferences. His half had cheese and green peppers, which you told him was the grossest thing ever, and you got the other half of the pizza decked out with your favorite toppings. He returned the compliment and moved his gaming system off to the side to make room for the two pizza boxes. 

“You know… they make movies like Space Invaders? There’s this fucking sick movie I watched called Invasion of the Body Snatchers… fucking wild, dude.” Wally moved over to his entertainment system, rearranging the cords behind the TV to connect to the VHS player sitting on the shelf beneath it. A few moments of silence and shuffling and watching him bend over in those pants, the seams running down the middle—right over his crack—threatening to rip as he forced so much of himself into that taut fabric. It was still a miracle that the pants highlighted everything they needed to while keeping the rest loose and free for him to move without much care. He got the movie playing and returned back to his seat on the couch, the same one he claimed to play video games in and the same one that was so close to you. He picked up a box of pizza and rested it on his lap, his feet finding rest on the table yet again. Thumbing open the box from the slightly protruding cardboard tab, he let the flat cover swing over onto his knees and shins. 

Wally went for a slice, stuffing his mouth carelessly. He looked over to you and gave you the sign that it was okay to start eating, if you had any doubt about it before. You reached over, damning the cardboard box, pizza, and layer of fabric keeping you from his dick to hell.

A few slices in, Wally faced his first predicament while watching the movie. A rogue pizza slice planned to sabotage him, dripping its cheesy and saucy remnants all over his shirt like he was being booed for his attempts to make a move on you by his own plan. “Ah, shit.”

He really didn’t want to miss a second with you, knowing that he was close to something finally happening. So, he pulled at the neck of his shirt and lifted it up and over his head, discarding it to the floor. He figured that he could deal with the stains later when they weren’t the only ones to clean that had a mess left on them. Something he was too afraid to do the night of a successful football game, he was still too nervous to do now—to be fully exposed in front of you. Even after his flat stomach would inevitably be bloated from the pizza, he still wanted you to see fully. Not in glimpses, not in pieces. Him, for all of his faults and worries and good and bad days. All it takes is one look to know if you like him like that, and it only takes one look at your face to know. But, he couldn’t bring himself to lose his pants, not yet.

Instead, he helped you embrace his upper body by moving the box of remaining pizza to the table with its twin’s arrival. Then, he just let his arm go above the couch and fall over both of your shoulders, slightly pulling you closer to him.

You noticed that he had taken his shirt off, but left it to be an unexplored subject of the night. At least, it would be unexplored in spoken words. Rather, you let your eyes do the looking and imagining what was under the rest of his clothes. His socks were a given, but his blue plaid pants held something that even your imagination couldn’t satisfy the image of. The way his legs were lifted up to the table, being pressed together meant that everything good that swung between them had to rest on top, giving you the perfect angle to see him. His length when he wasn’t hard was impressive, and his balls created a pocket in his soft pants that you wanted to see every curve of. But you tried to focus back on the movie, as it seemed that this might be the farthest Wally was willing to go with you. Friends cuddling, friends who are close to each other and care for one another more than anyone else on the team—that’s who you were. So, you kept on watching the movie, waiting for the hours to tick by.

But, a scene from the movie really got to you towards the end of the movie. Body horror was always a hit-or-miss for you, and the scene was graphic enough to make you turn your head. Wally had done the same, abandoning all hope of bravery and turning away from the screen and in your direction. The both of you made eye contact, your eyes staring into his rich brown ones. The warmth of them contrasted with the woman screaming on screen, and the shared silence between the two of you felt impossible to mistake as anything else but the right time. He started to lean towards you, and you moved closer to him, losing sight of him when you closed your eyes, waiting for a kiss that never came. The phone picked up on the woman’s scream on the television, blaring out its own final wishes as someone would have to put an end to its sole purpose by answering the call. Wally turned his head to the phone, then looked back to you with awkward eyes.

“That’s probably my mom.” He rose to his feet and swept across the room in quick motions, leaving you to sit upright without his presence. 

You patted his seat, playing nice with him, “Gotcha, I’ll keep your seat warm.”

Wally went to pick up the phone, “Hello?”

“Hi, honey!” She cheered over the line. Wally could hear the smile forming through her voice on the other end. “How’s everything going? Did you light the last candle?”

“Yeah, I did when I got home. Look, I can’t stay on the phone long, I have company, Mom.” He sighed out in one breath.

“How many of your friends showed up?” She asked, trying to figure out if she should be worried about nine or ten rowdy boys messing up her house. He looked back to you and then turned his head back to the phone, mouth near the receiver like saying the words any closer would make it true, “A lot.”

“Okay, sweetie. I won’t keep you long then, don’t break anything! Love you.” Her voice got progressively louder as if she really wanted him to know about her affection.

“Love you too, mom. Bye.” He placed the phone back on its holder, returning back to the couch just as the end credits started to roll. 

With the movie no longer keeping your attention, you asked him, “Does she know that I’m the only one who showed up?”

“Totally, and she said that you’re a total loser for coming over.” He replied, adding, “How about we move this upstairs? It’s getting kind of late, yeah?”

You agreed, yawning before and after you spoke. “Yeah, maybe a sleepover isn’t good after having school all day.” 

“But now we know for next time,” he finished off with a yawn, infected by your set pair of them.

“Will there be a next time?” Your question sounded eager, not dreadful like you never wanted to do this again. This was probably the best time you had hanging out with someone. A "next time” would be necessary to finish where you left off, unless you happened to be misreading the situation. Though, there was almost no doubt about it as your teasing seemed to amp itself up.

“Maybe, if you don’t snore in your sleep,” Wally bargained, turning back to you as he took charge up the stairs. “But yeah, I’d love for there to be a next time.”

Wally led you up to his bedroom, taking careful time on the stairs to talk about the few family photos he had framed that you must have missed, so eager to listen to his directions and not break anything in his house by simply wandering into the wrong room.

Eventually, he opened his bedroom door for you, stepping over the sleeping bags strewn across the floor, “I’m sure you saw that earlier, that’s when I planned to have more people over. Can’t be too prepared. But since it’s just you and me, we can go halfsies on the bed? Sleeping on the floor is bad for your body and all…”

“And getting crushed by you is so much better?” You crossed your arms and sat on the end of his bed. It was soft yet firm like Wally’s touch—better yet, Wally’s skin. The way he made you feel like you were clinging on to something that was priceless yet easily available for your every whim was magical.

He insisted, “Some say it’s very therapeutic.”

Once you were all said and done with getting ready for bed, taking turns finishing up for the night. Wally shut his door, and you two were left alone to figure out the bed situation. You knew you were going to be sleeping next to him, but you had no idea if that would entail a wall being built out of pillows between you, if clothes would provide an extra barrier, or if something much more tantalizing would happen. But, you didn’t expect Wally to be the one to go first.

“Hope you’re good with me sleeping naked. Guess I should have said that before I suggested the bed…” He was in the middle of toeing off his socks, using his biggest toe to peel each off from the top-down while standing at the foot of his bed. Naturally, the next step to take would be to remove his pants. He left any idea of wearing a shirt at the door to his bedroom, the opportunity to have some restraint between the two of you ready to take the same exit.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll stay in my pajamas but you get comfortable, it’s your house, your bed.” You insisted on him, ensuring that he would feel find in his own skin. Plus, the view you would fall asleep and wake up to just sounded a hell of a lot better.

“If you say so.” He complied, his thumbs tucking into the waistband of his pants. The string keeping them up had been undone since he got back from the bathroom, and he was able to easily stretch out the band with just his thumbs alone. He pushed them down, the fabric fighting a bit as they slid over his thick ass and his dick and meaty thighs. His knees bent as he kept lowering himself down, pushing the pants down to his ankles then returning to his normal height to step out of them. Now, he was only wearing his gold necklace and nothing else. Just one thing remained on him, and you wanted to rip it off with your teeth.

The action never came and the thought went from a boiling idea at the forefront of your mind to a simmer on the back burner of the white stove downstairs. Distant, yet so close. That’s how you felt about Wally when you were both next to each other in his Queen-sized bed, cast in the soft light of his desk lamp on the other side of the room. He took up much of the bed in height, head laid back against a pillow that almost brought his feet over the edge of the mattress, so it was hard to not feel his presence from his radiant body heat to his soft breaths. 

It felt like hours had passed, yet you could feel the moonlight leaning on you as a burning reminder that it had only been minutes since you took up the mantle with your crush. He seemed to be having the same problem, turning and twisting in some desperation to find comfort. That was hard to miss, too. The only direction he didn’t turn was to face you, going from his back to his side so that his pale skin glimmered in the fraction of moonlight peeking through the curtain. The small brown moles and blemishes were visible on him from the years of being kissed by the sun. He tossed himself around again, landing on his back and ruffling his hair just a little more each time.

You spoke to him but didn’t look over, “Can’t sleep?”

“No, I just…” He paused. “Have a lot on my mind with… college and stuff. And I can’t do everything before hitting the hay…” It all came out it half-whines and slowly said statements like he was trying to avoid the instincts of a tyrannosaur, moving ever so carefully under the sheets.

His shoulder lifted slightly, a light bump forming in the waves of gray made by your two bodies under the comforter. It circled down to where his crotch was. There was a light shift on the bed as well as the noise of skin hitting lightly against itself. You could hear it in the silence, breaking with his shuddered breath. He had been so busy, and now, he was next to you. Nothing stood in the way of thinking of you in ways that he could only do when you—or when any of his responsibilities—weren’t paying attention. This was a break for him, so he should be able to indulge in what he wants. 

You, next to him. The thought alone was enough to make blood flow to his dick in seconds. His hand that had traveled down to his inner thigh slowly started to play with his growing length. Fingers wrapped around his shaft and started tugging, ones that he knew all too well from the time he had spent milking himself of every sexual desire almost every night. Only recently had that changed, and maybe for the better this time.

You could feel the light motions of whatever he was doing rocking the bed, it was enough to pull your attention to his side. Turning your head, you saw it—the lifted part of his big blanket shifting as the line went from his dick and all the way up to where his pale shoulders stuck out. You could pretty quickly piece together what he was doing. The way his face fell impossibly further back into his soft pillow, eyes half-lidded as he slipped in and out of fantasy and the reality next to him.

“Help me out with this…” Wally huffed, taking an entire breath to say those words. 

You were breathless just moments later, crawling under the sheets and being trapped in the intoxicating warmth surrounding you. The air was stale in seconds, filled by his musk as the endless sky of grey went over your head and created just enough to see Wally. You found yourself on the edge of the bed, between his legs, your own legs feeling the chill air on the outside of your confines. Heat radiated from him more now that you were pressed against him, and you could feel your face heating up at the intimacy. You were about to blow him… this night really wasn’t a bust.

Your lips met his tip, which was already leaking precum, and used that to guide yourself down him given the darkness that has formed around you. You could see him, but sight can distract from the taste, and he tasted so good. He tasted a bit salty from being in thick winter fleece for most of the night, presumably showering once he got home from school because there was the faint scent of the damp woods and sweet flowers. The spiciness in his taste—and smell—was all him, though.

He arched his back from the bed, parting from its comforting coddle and moaning out into the quiet room. It was willing to curve for him but his bends were sharp, jagged as he fought to keep himself from releasing instantly. He was so worked up that he would have loved to keep your lips sealed to him, taking all of his cum then and there. You had managed to take him down to the base, gagging only once and feeling the heat get to you. Though they were practically invisible, your nose was buried in his dark pubes, the texture of stubble rubbing against your nose. The smell of his had gotten much stronger now that your nose was pressed against him. 

It was another thing taking away your already-shortened breath and you had to pull off within seconds of throating his cock. You kept repeating the motion, taking him into your mouth until you felt like you needed to come up for the stuffy air you were trapped in. Then, you were back on to blowing him until he couldn’t take it anymore. After minutes of work, Wally had enough of fighting his urge to ruin your face and his bed sheets.

“Get on top of me,” he wanted to see you, to hold you. He continued by saying your name and a desperate “please” flew out of his lips. “I need this.”

Fresh air hit your lungs the second you crawled up to him, appearing from under sheets as he helped you get free and gave you matching bedhead. He continued to lay down, watching you kneel just above his hard cock, stripping off your top and pushing down your bottoms so that he could have easy access to the place he planned to dump his load in. Shuffling back, Wally reached around to help stick his dick in. With his so-called “help,” he teased your crack for a second, feeling the way your skin felt against his tip. He put it in after a second of teasing and, suddenly, you felt like a cowboy riding such a big horse. 

You were able to lean back, taking more of him into you and dealing yourself a great amount of pain from the way he stretched you out. The other option was to fall into his arms, chest to chest. Heart to heart. Knowing that he could rock you to sleep like this, you chose to sit yourself upright, letting him push all of his length into you. The inches went in fast but came out slow as Wally’s hands came around to your hips to lift you up with the strength he had to let you bounce on his dick. He did his best to thrust while under your weight, but it was only when you did fall over against him did he really pick up his pace. He rocked his hips back and forth, fucking you tenderly as you used his neck and chest as your own pillow. 

You humped against his lower torso, your hole pulled against his cock as the tight ring worked over most of his shaft with how much you could pull yourselves away from each other, then sink right back into place. You ended up finding release from the friction alone and ruining your own pajama pants and anything else you had on. Wally came shortly after, too pent up to really make a lasting effort. Much to your chagrin, you ended up falling asleep on him, not bothering to clean up the mess until the next day. Wally insisted on holding you close as the only member to show up to his sleepover.

[writeforfandoms]

Birfday - Soap

For my birfday bash!

For the poll winner, half hurt half comfort. Good ole half n half. Sorry not sorry. F!reader, implied injuries, we're ignoring canon but stuff still happened, when I say half hurt I mean it.

Word count: 1195

You weren't sure what to expect. When Simon had called you, you'd been surprised but pleased. 

At least until he'd told you Johnny was hurt. 

“He'll live,” Simon had assured you, voice rough. “But he's got some time off. Medical leave. Might need help.” 

You, of course, had agreed instantly. Johnny lived with you when he was home anyway, it was no trouble to keep an extra eye on him for medical purposes. 

Now, standing off base where Simon said he'd meet you, anxiety crept into your chest, curling around your lungs. Simon hadn't said how bad it was, which was finally setting off your fear. The constant barrage of “what if"s had you ready to tear your hair out. 

Finally, though, you spotted Simon and Johnny walking towards you. Simon stood on Johnny's left, between him and anything else. 

Your gaze caught on the bandages covering Johnny's left eye and stuck there. You breathed in deep, glad you had a moment to brace before Johnny sped up, nearly slamming into you even as his arms wrapped tight around you. You lifted one hand to his head, rubbing at his hair softly. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” you mumbled to him, holding tighter at the faint tremors you could feel. He was just barely holding together. “Ready to go home?” 

“Aye.” His voice cracked, just a little. 

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, rubbing one hand up and down his back. You caught Simon's eyes and nodded, just a little. Simon nodded once, slow and firm, and turned away. 

It took a little bit to get back home with Johnny. He was quiet, unusually so. It concerned you, but you'd have a better chance at getting him to open up once you both got home. 

The door locked behind the two of you and Johnny buried himself against you, as much as he could. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” you murmured, arms lifting to hold him close again. “What's going on?”

“Jus’ happy t'be home,” he muttered, almost too soft for you to hear. 

“Hmm.” You scratched your fingers gently against the dark fuzz on one side of his head. “Got a few little surprises for you.” 

That got him to lift his head, blinking at you. “Surprises?”

“Mmhm.” You smiled, fingers never quite stilling against his scalp. “After you change into something comfortable.”

He huffed, more theatrical than annoyed, and dropped his forehead to your shoulder again. “Comfy here,” he grumbled. 

You laughed softly, massaging the back of his neck now. “I know,” you murmured. “You'll feel better after you change. Go on.” 

He pouted but shuffled back to the bedroom. You waited until the door shut to let your head fall forward, your breathing a little shaky. You only had moments - Johnny wasn't usually one to dawdle, especially not with such a carrot dangled in front of his nose. 

He was here. He was here, and fine, and… well enough. He'd be okay. You'd both be okay. 

One more deep breath in, and you forced yourself to start moving. 

Dinner was ready to be plated, which you did. The bed had fresh sheets already, and if the tub wasn't tiny you'd shove Johnny in it. A shower would have to do tonight. 

“Smells good,” Johnny murmured, wrapping his arms around your middle and pressing his chest to your back. Clinging to you like a blanket. 

“Good,” you murmured. “Sit and I'll bring you a plate.” 

Johnny huffed, breath puffing warm against your neck. “Donnae have ta,” he mumbled. 

“I want to. Now sit.” You kept your voice gentle, a suggestion rather than an order. He could be a bit stubborn about being taken care of, but you'd wear him down. 

A moment later his warmth was gone as he stepped away from you. You glanced back just once to be sure he actually was sitting before you brought over plates and beers. 

Dinner was quiet, with Johnny glancing at you every so often, some odd emotion on his face. You kept glancing at him to make sure he was actually eating, watching for signs of pain or discomfort. 

But this quiet… this quiet was making you nervous. You'd guessed from Simon's call that this hadn't been easy, and obviously he'd been injured. But it wasn't like him to be so quiet, not even his first night home. 

“There's more, if you'd like.” 

Johnny shook his head, standing and washing his dish and yours. Then he just… stood at the sink, hands braced on the edge, head hanging. Your heart ached for him, and you almost went to him. Almost. 

“So, how bad is it?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Is what?”

“You haven't mentioned it yet,” he continued, almost as if you hadn't spoken. “Haveta assume it's ‘cause ye donnae want ta hurt mah feelings.” 

“What?” You did move up next to him, facing him, frowning. “You mean your injury?”

Johnny's lips thinned, gaze fixed down into the sink. That was answer enough for you. 

“Hey. Look at me.” You cupped his cheek gently, thumb brushing over his skin as you guided his face gently so you could try to meet his gaze. He seemed determined to not quite look at you. 

Okay then. You'd do this the hard way. 

“John MacTavish.” 

His spine straightened like you'd shouted, eyes going wide and snapping to you. 

“I know this isn't just about your face. Something happened, that much I can tell. You don't have to tell me anything, you never have to, you know that.” You drew in a deep breath, willing your eyes to stay dry long enough to finish. “I'm not going anywhere. I promise. You're not scaring me off, you're not running me off. All I care about–” You cut yourself off, blinking a few times even as your throat threatened to close. Damn your penchant for crying when stressed! “All I care about is that you came home.” 

Johnny stepped into you, pressing his forehead to yours even as tears dripped down your cheeks, emotion clogging your throat. For long minutes the two of you stood, offering and taking comfort in equal measure. 

Finally he sniffled, just once, and rubbed one hand up and down your back. “Ah'll have a scar,” he mumbled, voice thick still. “Won't be pretty.”

You scoffed. “You'll always be pretty,” you countered, just to watch his ears go red. “Besides, a scar might make you ruggedly handsome. Have to beat your admirers off with a stick.” 

He chuckled, his hand settling at the nape of your neck. “Won't have eyes for any of ‘em,” he admitted. “Just ye.” 

“Daft man,” you scolded gently, smiling, squeezing him gently. “Then stop running from me.”

“Swear down,” he whispered, pushing his forehead into yours again. “No more.” 

“Good.” You closed your eyes, smiling despite the tacky feeling of drying tears on your cheeks. “Come on. Shower time. We'll both feel better.”

“Wash my hair for me?” He grinned, not quite up to his normal roguish standard, but getting there. 

“Of course.” You finally pulled back, showing him ahead of you. 

He'd be fine. And you'd be there for him. Always. 

[fanficwriterlover]

My Choice Our Consequence

Chapter 2 (Part 2) Big News to All

Summary: You called your friend Gaz, and want to catch up with him and obviously explain your absence, maybe even hear how the other members of the taskforce are doing. You miss them, but you're adjusting to the life of being pregnant...it's just the weight of your child (besides heaviness) father lingers in the back of your mind...how will you ever tell Ghost ?

Expectations: Mentions of SA, Assault, Cursing, Victimizing, Narcissistic behavior, manipulation, Stalking, Smoking, Drinking, etc..(Let me know if I miss anything)

Call Sign: Hera or Lil Light

Word Count : 4.3k (Sorry it's short gotta keep a good cliffhanger)

A03 Version

Your Home at 10:00 AM

Gaz now stands in front of your door, he had showered, dressed in his civilian clothes and ran to grab your favorite pastry; scones. He wasn’t sure what to expect behind the door, in fact he was terrified, he was scared to see your light diminishing due to depression or maybe an illness. It was something he always loved about you. You lit up the room. It was something Soap and him always brought up how it seemed to brighten whenever you enter. You left a hole in the taskforce and everyone knew it. Reluctantly he raised his fist and gently knocked on the door. Shifting his weight on his feet, he took in the smells from outside, it was a cozy complex for sure. You obviously made more money than him. He then heard the doorknob began to rattle snapping his attention to the door where he saw YOU standing there.

He must’ve been holding his breath, because when he release the cool air of the fall autumn took it away. There you were standing with the door cracked peeking your head out. You haven’t changed. The smile adorning your face made him want to melt, you still were just as bright from the last time he saw you. Yet you looked different…almost mature different. You were wearing a black button accent, with long sleeve. It looked almost like a dress but stopped short of your thighs, where it was covered by some jeans that snug nicely. And a cute black slip on van shoes. Seeing you in civilian clothes was different, however, it suited you. You hair was done up in a messy bun, with strands coming down the sides of your forehead and cheek. You were still stunning.

“Gaz !” you say softly yet excited. “Hey doll, wow so this where you been hiding. You’re not even far from our base !” he huffs in disbelief, to think it probably wouldn’t have taken long to run into you from the base yet here you were. When you opened the door wider you encouraged him to come in which he did. For the life of him he couldn’t see what could possibly be wrong with you to resign from the taskforce, you seemed perfectly healthy and well normal, so why ? “Gaz is that…” he stood there confused as he waited for you to finish your sentence. “Is that scones I smell ? “ your eyes widen with glee, as he then remembers he collected you some that were in his arms. He chuckles “Yeah, I come bearing gifts.” You laugh softly encouraging him in “Come in” he steps through the door as you take the scones from him, walking into the kitchen. Your place is definitely more cozier than he anticipated, it also seemed well….tidy. But something else about it that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Stepping into the living room, the couch was facing where the tv was, with a fire place in the corner that was lit, it kept the room warm even though the house itself seemed well insulated. There were pictures of you adorning the mantle over the fireplace, with a women, your mother from the looks of it. She looked like you. You shouted from the kitchen “Earl grey tea I take ? “ he responds back loud enough for you to hear, “You remember well y/n” he laughs softly taking in the room. Before hearing your steps walk back into the room. You outstretch your hand to give his cup, which he takes. After which you began to sit down onto the couch, a bit carefully too he noticed. Odd.  Seemed like you were physically struggling to sit, yet walked fine. “Come sit Gaz, I can see questions running through your forehead” you snort at this then began blowing into your cup, with the steam blowing in front of your face. He chuckles at that. “Quit bloody reading me yeah ?” he takes his seat on the other end of the couch from you holding the cup.

Your POV

For a while the silence and the acknowledging each other’s presence was nice. It was hard to believe he was in your living room. You missed him. You missed all the lads of 141. Yet you knew he had questions especially your reason for disappearing. You set your cup down, onto the coffee table that was a bit more pushed away than needed “I know you’re wondering why I resigned…and why I didn’t say goodbye.” You say this with your gaze away from him, your knees tucked under you as you had your elbow on the back of the couch, your hand holding your head.

Sleeping has become a bit of a challenge for your but obviously Gaz was unaware of your current predicament. You purposely picked this top to hide your bump, not in shame, okay maybe a little but not the reason of choice. No just to not rush to the topic immediately when you greeted him at the door. He seems to look at you from the side where he was seated on the couch, almost seeming to be curious what the answer is. You sigh softly, here goes nothing… “I left because I found out I was pregnant Gaz.” His eye blow wide open nearly sputtering his tea, but instead chokes it down as you pat him on the back. He waves his hand vigorously almost ensuring you he’s fine. When he clears his throat after his heaving stopped,  “You wha’” his eyes immediately follow where your hand placement moves to. You show the curve of your bump. Your black top hid it perfectly, that smoothing it down more only made the bump more pronounced.

Gaz POV

The moment you smoothed down your top, his eyes went wide. You had a protruding belly and how the hell did he not notice it. You barely changed. But that explains a LOT. The place was so tidy and everything seemed harmless. It was because the place was practically baby proofed. The edges of the tables were rounded. The fireplace had a gate pushed away so no toddler could touch the heated grates. Everything was made safe for a baby to be welcomed into the place. Also the soft carpets adorning the living room, dining, and he’s certain other places of the home were made to ensure the baby wouldn’t crawl on hard wooded flooring. Every little detail Gaz began to understand why the place was done such. His mind was now settling with this revelation but now “I see now…well, wow congratulations.” He laughs out softly leaning forward hugging you gently, making sure to avoid your bump and not squeeze you hard. “Thank you Gaz…it’s something. Adjusting to sleeping is harder than I thought. No one warned me about the need to use the lute more though.” You laugh a bit now rubbing your stomach in a soothing habit. He watches you intently, you seemed happy with this so it made him happy for you but “Whose the dad ? If you resigned then…does that mean it was someone from base?” He cocks his brow at you, which you were blushing heavily biting your lip “Oh yeah..that so happens to be…Lieutenant Ghost..”Your eyes avoid his when you mumbled the last words lowly and quickly through gritted teeth. Yet, Gaz was frowning trying to figure out if he heard you right. “Um..I’m sorry did you just say Lt ?” he surely heard you wrong…surely ? But you seemed to play with your hair now shifting a bit in your spot as his eyes shot wide “Lt ?! The Ghost ?!” You blush more “Shout a little louder would you…I don’t think he heard you from the base” you snort as Gaz looks at you directly. “Bloody hell Hera…” he shakes his head “I don’t even want to know when and where but damn…” he huffs looking at you “Does he know ?”  tilting his head leaning forward with his elbows on his knees “Mmm…no…” Wow…he was stunned. He was expecting anyone anyone…but the Lieutenant ? Why didn’t you tell the Lt, about his soon to be kid ? Why did you leave without an explanation or bye ? More questions seem to run through his mind but seeing you rub your belly tenderly, you seemed content “Well…wow…you ever plan to tell him ?” you keep stroking your stomach, he was beginning to catch on that it was to calm you not the baby as you sigh softly before answering “I do…just I don’t know how to go about it you know ? It’s scary...we are talking about Ghost here.” Gaz nods his head slowly. Well he found it more hard to believe you even slept with him since you're heavily pregnant so obviously he must’ve been gentle enough unless…”He didn’t…um...” your eyes widen shaking your head “Oh gods no ! Ghost and I…well we both consented. Just didn’t plan this.” You point at your stomach indicating this wasn’t a part of it as he nods his head. He decided this topic wasn’t going to make it better and decided to change the subject. “Do you knoew if it’s a girl or boy yet ?” you seem to be grateful for the change in subject smiling softly “Yeah…it’s a boy.” Your eyes seem to soften, seems like the idea of a little boy running around melted you. He was happy for you. “Wow…a little Ghost. So if he doesn’t get your looks I’ll know what Ghost looks like.” He smirks at his joke as you playfully punch him in the arm, laughing. “Oh shut up !” the two of you seem to drift into more lighter topics.

Gaz enjoyed hearing about your ultrasound visits, your lifestyle, and excitement to be a mom. You even gave him a picture of the recent ultrasound that was the day it confirmed your son’s gender. Even now the baby was in almost full form, it was amazing to think you would be birthing a little bundle into this earth and you were leaving the harsh lifestyle of the dark world. It was always something you guys would talk about whether you all would ever have a life outside the military or even settle down and start a family. Looking at Price it seemed like they all would be going down that road of never ending fighting. But seeing you, actually living a mundane life. He envied you, yet he wasn’t ready to stop fighting. There was much to get done and with the Intel his team were gathering he sure as hell wasn’t ready to stop fighting.

Eventually it became late, he needed to get back to base, which you understood, you had made him a hearty meal and the two of you simply enjoyed catching up. Of course you didn’t pry into his mission only asking about his improvements and asking about everyone else. Yet even as he stands outside your door you give him one final hug as he smiles “Keep in contact aight ? No going off the radar doll. I want to see my godson too” He laughs softly as you smile at him “Got yourself a deal Kyle. Be safe out there. Keep fighting the good fight.” You nod your head at him as he smiles “Yes ma’am” with that he makes his way to his car, getting in and driving off. Except what you didn’t know was Gaz was going back to the old base where he knew Soap would be returning as well as Price. He had already sent messages to both Soap and Price wondering if they were headed to base which they both replied yes, to which Gaz was going to share the news of you to them. And hopefully find Ghost too.

Pulling up into based, and getting approved after showing his ID, Gaz parks his car in the garage getting out as he makes his way to the lounge room. It’s been a while since he been here but he was happy to be reuniting with the gang. As he glances down at his phone that was buzzing in his pocket he wasn’t aware of anyone until he heard a loud familiar Scottish voice “Aye ! Gaz ! You bloody arse the fuck you been lad ?” He was striding towards him as Gaz snorts. They bump fists then clasping and bringing it into the chest to pat each other’s back. “Good seeing you too mate. Price here ?” With that he hears the all so familiar Liverpool accent echo through the garage “Was wondering when you turn up son.” Gaz smiles as Soap steps back, with Price taking out his hand to shake “Good seeing you too Cap, glad the gangs all here.” He pats his shoulder as the three men make their way to the lounge.

Once they settle Gaz, Soap, and Price had been drinking already, Ghost hadn't shown up yet. The three were already catching up by the time Ghost show up, with that Gaz and Soap were already drunk with Price taking slower sips from his bourbon. Ghost takes in the sight of the gang all together simply silently seating himself into a chair, sitting down with his arms crossed listening to both of them ramble through a drunken state. However, things seem to escalate quickly when Gaz speaks loudly “Oh yeah ! I saw Hera today !” he smiles giddily. With that the room becomes deadly silent. Price seems surprised by this, Soap is utterly shocked, and Ghost well, he was just as both but did better at hiding it. Remaining unmoved as Soap spoke up “What ?! Bonnie alive ?! Why wasn’t invited ! How is the lass ?” he seemed eager to know setting his bottle of beer down to hear. Price simply takes a drag from one of his cigars listening intently “She’s good. She actually the one to reach out to me and invite me over. Her place is cozy.” He smiles proudly, obviously in his drunken state to admit he seen your home.

Ghost POV

This makes Ghost squint his eyes hearing that Gaz was able to know where you live. When he gets the chance he plans to get the address from him soon. He wants to know where you are.  Maybe convince you to return. Yet, Gaz continues, “Oh yeah, and she’s expecting soon! Almost forgot. She sent me home with the ultrasound of my godson.”  Ghost head nearly whips in his direction, as he happened to have been looking elsewhere for a brief moment before hearing this revelation. His eyes nearly widen by this news. The first time he breaks the silence “What.” He sounded angry which made everyone look in his direction but he remained neutral not daring to show his anger. Yet, he couldn’t help but notice a hint of Price’s features shift. Gaz continues as he fumbles into his pocket pulling out the picture handling it to Soap who sat closest to him “Oh shit ! Look at that bugger ! Wow didn’t think she’d settle down. How far along is she anyways ?” You’re pregnant…so…did that mean you resigned to live a more mundane life ? No impossible you wouldn’t have been allowed to knowing about an upcoming mission. Yet, still no one would’ve approved of your resignation without a medical reason so did that mean…Gaz spoke up once again, with Price walking over to glance at the pictures. “Well…not exactly settle down but yeah ! She’s 21 weeks so far ! She’s excited…” that’s when any other words coming out of Gaz’s mouth were dulled out.

That long…that’s how long you nearly left the base…did that mean ? No…impossible.  You said you were on the pill. Fuckin’ ‘ell I need a smoke… with that Ghost abruptly stood up walking out of the lounge Soap and Gaz were too busy looking at the pictures in the moment, yet Price noticed. He took the moment to leave after Ghost knowing exactly where he’d be going as he left the two on the couch. Making his way down the hall Price went up to the roof where he knew Ghost would be, of course smoking a cigarette. He didn’t care Price followed him. He knew it was him, he gotten accustomed to everyone’s footfalls so hearing his didn’t surprise him. Ghost was leaning against the railing silently smoking, taking slow drags from his cigarette as Price did the same with his cigar. He then broke the silence but Ghost didn’t dare to seem bothered. “So…how are you holding up Simon ?” he grumbles at the use of his name stealing a glare in Price’s direction. “I figured.” He says with a heavy sigh puffing out from the drag as Ghost continued to do the same. The men stood silent continuing to drag on their cigars, until Price once again spoke “I know you’re wondering why she resigned…and Ill be honest-” he sighs again rubbing the back of his neck making it crack “I played a hand in the idea…however I wasn’t aware she would do it so soon. I didn’t sign the approval though. I know you been questioning that.” Which was true. Ghost did. It was either himself, Price or…”Laswell…she signed it off. Found out after she left of course. She wanted to make it as discreet as possible.” He huffs a bit with Ghost standing still, only listening but flicking at the end of the cigarette “Did you know ?” he says lowly not daring to look in Price’s direction, a part of him already knew the answer yet he wanted to hear it. “Mmm. She made me swear I not tell until she was ready to share.” Of course…why would you share with him ? He disrespected you and made you feel pain. God, you were pregnant then too, you probably was emotional. Fuck…now things were adding up. How tired you were, sickness, fainting, everything…yet Price once more snapped him out of his mind as he slipped him a paper holding it out to him to take. Which he did looking at it, which made him freeze…it was your address and phone number. “Call her…you two obviously have lot to catch up on. And quite honestly I know about your little scolding to her.” This made Ghost flinch…all this time he knew… “I don’t think she’s mad at you Simon…but you two need to patch it up so you can get your head in the game for the upcoming mission.”

With those words…Price puts out his cigar, that seemed to have had enough and walks away. Ghost looks at the slip of paper for the longest time. Should he call you ? Should he go to your house ? No…you’d probably freak out if he stood at your door. Would your boyfriend answer instead of you ? Fuck..he hated that idea. Did you know who the baby’s father is ? He stomped his cigarette out putting the piece of paper into his jacket pocket before making his way to his bunker. He has a lot to consider…he just didn’t know how to go about it. Surely worse that would happen is you tell him off.

A Week Later

He finally gave in…his car parked down the street from your place. All this time you lived not entirely far from base. This whole time you left him in a turmoil of his mind wondering if you left because of him and quit because you thought you would never be good enough. Ghost came to you place every day since he found out. But every time he just sat in his car looking at your home that barely showed any life forms. He wondered if you were even there. Or maybe he got the wrong place. Well guess you wouldn’t do much moving being pregnant…and fuck the idea you’re pregnant. Gaz mentioned your mother and Uncle were taking care of you which set him mind a little relief especially cause he did a bit of digging himself finding out your uncle was in the air force. A commander no less. No father image though. Did he die perhaps ? Yet movement caught his attention, and his eyes widen.

It was you. You were in a beige fleece button top, long denim tights and slippers. Your hair was longer, more smoother in a tight ponytail. He probably wouldn’t have recognized you honestly, he’s so used to seeing you in military attire and always having your hair in a tight bun. So seeing you, relaxed was different. You make you way down the steps and that’s when he can see it…from the angle it’s not hard to miss. Your protruding belly, it’s not full but it’s definitely sign of growth. The baby from the ultrasound. When Gaz and Soap were passed out on the couch, he took the liberty to steal a glance at the photos, usually he wouldn’t care but since it was you, it was a part of you he couldn’t resist. Seeing your name and last name with the date and details of the fetus made the whole thing more reality.

You were walking down the steps grabbing the mail, as you were scanning each one carefully. He had already got himself out of the car, standing across the street behind a tree well hidden, he couldn’t resist. Was it wrong? Yes. Shamefully so,yet he honed his skills in stealth and hiding from enemies he had to do it in order to just see you. Yet, it was cut short as a man was jogging into your direction. He was a in a long tight sleeve top, with short pants, and running sneakers, From Ghost’s observation he was fit, not nearly as tall as him of course. Staning roughly at 5’11”. He had dark brownish hair with hints of red tint. He stops short in front of you and he could hear him call your name. You look in the man’s direction. Then…slowly appearing onto your face…you fucking smiled.

The fuck…who is that ? And to make it worse…when the man leaned in to hug, you hugged him back. There seemed to be a hint of awkwardness during the embrace which he couldn’t tell if due to your stomach or uncomfortableness with the man. Who the hell is that man ? Ghost was now clenching his fists, glaring daggers into the unknown man’s way. Just seeing the two fo you socializing made him furious. However that’s when things got worse. The man reached to gently touch you on the arm. Now Ghost had a keen eye and was exceptionally good at reading body language. You immediately were showing subtle signs of being uncomfortable, while you two were engaged in a conversation. Yet even when you shrugged your arm to rid the man’s hand from contact he wouldn’t bug off. Now Ghost was even more on edge, in most cases he would’ve trusted you to handle the situation, however, you’re now pregnant. Which definitely limits your once athletic quick abilities to fend for yourself. Even now he can see you start to pull away, you body moving back towards your home. For anyone, that’s a clear sign you’re uncomfortable and want to be left alone, but the man didn’t relent. This was now pissing Ghost off more.

You POV

When your neighbor Michael came running towards you, you immediately groaned inwardly. Apparently he was the kind of man who thinks all women would fall for him. Perhaps when you were naïve and not knocked up he might’ve seemed somewhat attractive, but boy was his ego annoying. You tried to remain pleasant through the interaction but now you were uncomfortable. He was too pushy. From hugging you, which you didn’t like, he reeked of sweat and made you want to throw up. You hated the close proximity, yet even when trying to withdraw yourself he didn’t care. He was too pushy. Asking to take you out and asking why someone like yourself was pregnant alone. It was creepy, he tried touching you more than once and even going as far to proclaim he’d never leave you if he knew he was the father. Maybe to some women they would’ve felt swooned over, but not to you. It was disgusting. You knew him, he had women coming in and out of his place constantly. The man dated women like the next best phone. He was definitely a red flag “Oh I can’t…sorry…sickness you know. Good chatting-” but oh now the minute you tried to walk back to your door he’s grabbing your arm standing in front of you, as if blocking your way to heading back into your home.

“Woah, you’re making it seem like I’m a bad guy ?! What’s the rush…I’m just offering you a good time.” He seemed more agitated and you were getting nervous with annoyed. “I told you…I’m not interested I-” he huffs “What is it going to take you to accept ?” He was a man who can’t handle rejection. The idea that you were rejecting him obviously made him more furious and was damaging his ego. You spoke through gritted teeth, yet tried to remain composed, “Nothing…now please let go of my arm. Now” Your eyes were blazing, you were pissed and uncomfortable. You were warning the man now. Yet what you didn’t expect was him to snap back “God you’re such a bitch. I’m just trying to be a decent man show you a good time…I get being pregnant makes you moody but damn y/n I just just wanted to show you a good time.” He glares at you, “You’re acting like I’m attacking you ! You’re overreacting !” now you were worried…but before you could say anything you saw Michael’s eyes shift to behind you, eyes widen, it was quick. His grip was roughly removed and you felt a warm looming figure behind you. But most of all, you heard a familiar deep angry British voice say roughly “Hands off” it spoke with authority, one you heard countless times through comms or when training. That’s when your eyes trailed up to look behind where you saw…

Ghost

Taglist : @the-reality-of-my-life , @kat-nee , @wwe1rdc0re , @saturnknows , @stalyxysh ,@avatarislife4ever,@ayesha-fish , @sae1kie ,@longing-for-the-past-times ,@daisyfrubies ,@sailorneotunemivhiru,@ra-im , @maflor123 ,@i-love-ptv , @sseleniaa , @ghostandneteyamaremine , @darkravenqueen98 @lazybutsmexy ,@thestartitaness ,@uniquecroissant , @princessdimondheart , @braindancecopy, @boingboingboom, @amyg1509, @kiryoutann

[hervoiceinthedark]

"Hmmmm... your entire body and mind? That's your whole self, you know. I could easily break you." She grins down at the one who summoned Her, shifting Her head to avoid piercing the ceiling with Her horns.

"I know," says the human. "I have—there's nothing for me here."

"I'm sure." She snorts.

She smiles, impossibly sharp teeth somehow not cutting the trisected tongue that occasionally flicks out between them.

"Kay. Deal."

The human blinks, not responding. They stare at each other for a moment.

The human finally breaks eye contact, coughing awkwardly.

"Sorry, I guess I," the human starts, "was something supposed to happen?"

She scoffs. "What did you expect, I'd unroll a 20ft long parchment for you to sign? That I'd offer my hand and, on shaking it, you'd be magically transformed with a clasp of thunder?"

The human flushes.

"No, no, my new pet. This is going to be a lot more fun for me, and a lot of work for you." Her smile grows further.

"I won't be pulling out your soul and eating it in one gulp, sealing you to me forever. When you belong to me," She steps forward, cornering the human against a wall, "you have to do that part yourself."

The human freezes, looking not quite sure how to respond.

"After all," She continues, a deep, rumbling, growl-like sound beginning in her chest, "how else can I be sure you're really, truly mine? What better way to ensure your devotion is true?"

As She speaks, a tingling sensation begins to build in the human's chest.

"Every day, you're going to tear yourself open offering everything that you are to me. You will give me more and more, and as you do, you will become more my possession than anything else."

"Every day, you will drag out whatever hesitations hold you back from being mine and slay them before me, so I can be sure your priorities are in the right place."

The human has fallen to their knees, unable to look away. Their chest burns with an unfamiliar pleasure.

"Do you still think you want this? Do you think you can rededicate yourself to me over, and over, and over again, on good days and bad, above all else?"

The human, eyes glazed over and hands desperately grasping at their chest, nods repeatedly.

"Yes," they gasp. "Please."

The walls sag slightly, slumping in on themselves. A slight light can be seen shining between the cracks forming in the roof. A sky is somehow visible beyond the walls, an uncountable display of stars reflected perfectly in the still, shallow water that now covers the floor.

The human is on their hands and knees, something thick and colorless pouring from their chest into the water. It's sticky and congealed, forming strands and fighting gravity instead of smoothly falling.

The sky is silent as the human sobs, scraping the sludge off with their hands.

When their chest is finally clean, they push themselves back to their knees and raise their head.

"Miss," they say, and their eyes reflect the single bright point occupying the sky, and the smile on their face relays their success.

"This is not the easiest it will be," She warns, "but it will not be this easy again for a long time, little thing."

The not-completely-human shudders, and nods.

Their own fluids mingle with the water beneath them as they stand and join their Mistress's side, feeling brighter inside (and maybe glowing just a little).

[yutanology]

(UNEDITED) Yandere!Jake × Reader

WARNINGS : yandere, suicide, depressing thoughts, guilt tripping, mentions of dead body and manipulation

Jake pets your head softly while humming the same song that he always sang to you. Your body was leaning on his chest and his arms were securely wrapped around you, hugging you to keep your cold body warm.

He kept you close to him as possible, wishing that he would hear your heart beating and you breathing air out of your nose but no matter how he kept his ears open for you, he never got to hear anything from you.

He wished this was only a bad dream and when he wakes up, everything was completely fine but no. Everything is real.

He should've let you go before it's too late. He should've let you walk away. Even if it pains him that you're happier without him, you could've been atleast alive still.

He isn't usually the selfish type of a person. He had always been so generous but it's a different topic when it comes to you. He never wanted to lose you or share you to someone else. He only wanted you all to himself.

Losing you was literally the last thing he'd ever wanted to happen.

You really loved him. So much that you didn't expect that you'd actually fall out of love for him. You did talk about this with him and it only ended with a lot of misunderstandings and arguments.

"How could you even—" he gritted his teeth together trying to bite back the hurtful words that were trying to come out his mouth. "Was that all a lie then? Everything we had?"

The room seemed to be even colder than outside where snow was gracefully falling to earth. The first snow of December.

"That's not what I meant—"

"Stop telling me that!"  his voice echoed his anger. "If you really loved me, you could've not thought of leaving me to suffer alone after making me believe all those "I love you"s."

He was stupid. He trapped you through all those guilt trips and tiny bits of manipulation just so he could convince you that you were wrong, that you were at fault and you'd find yourself still binded with him.

"I'm sorry..." you were the one who apologized and he'd embrace you, telling you that he forgives you. After that, he acted like the arguments never happened.

Seeing him smile again relieved you but it worried you of how you can't feel the sparks and butterflies you used to feel anymore whenever you saw him.

You were too kind to ruin that beautiful smile on his lips so you decided not to bring it up ever again. The thing was, you never thought that doing that would make you suffer in return.

You tried your very best to keep Jake happy to the point where you mostly neglected your own happiness. Every night when he's holding you to his sleep, you'd stare at the ceiling wide awake as you wonder what you were doing.

The same thing happened again and again until you were drained. You hated to be this selfish but you were too tired to even care about anything anymore. And that lead you to drowning yourself into a peaceful rest.

Jake absentmindedly kept on petting your wet hair as his teary dull eyes stared at your pale yet beautiful face. Warm tears kept on running down his cheeks but he doesn't make any crying sound.

Just silently weeping over your dead body. "How can you still be this beautiful?" he asked, brushing a strand of your hair away from your face. He smiled bitterly.

"I-i'm sorry..." his voice cracked. He never thought that all it would take him to apologize to you was you being gone literally.

"I'm so sorry, my love.."

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

May part five

cw: mentions of injury & recovery (nothing graphic)

Thanks for waiting y'all! It means so much that you stick with me. I'm gonna do smaller sections so I can post more frequently. Expect the next part up in a couple of days. All the love!! <3

The hospital lights were bright.

Alex didn’t like to remember that about them, but he looked down at his own pale thighs in his shorts and watched how the lights traced out every single blue vein. It made him feel more vulnerable than he cared for at that moment. He didn’t want to think about Finn laid out under a machine, waiting to hear how long it might take him to heal. That was the thing with heads. Bones had an end date: Six weeks, maybe four. Heads, however, came with mights. Might be a few months. Might be more.

Their dad was trying to get their mom to sit down, to rest. She looked just as pale in this awful light. Tear tracks on her cheeks, hand on her chest as if she could press her heart into calmness. They all—all three of them, Finn, Alex, their dad—had always hated it when she cried.

Kasey, asleep beside him in the chair now, had handed him this cup of coffee at some point. His was holding himself stiffly in sleep. Alex could tell he was in some sort of pain. Maybe from the game.

Alex wasn’t sure how long he had been holding the coffee, only that his fingers were numb from leeching the burning heat out of the flimsy cardboard. He reached out and settled careful fingers over Kasey’s old injury, wishing he could leech the pain away, too. Natalie was on the phone down the hall—maybe with Celeste Dumais. Or Lily Potter.

Logan and Leo. He didn’t see them in the waiting room.

Alex set the coffee down beneath his chair and turned to stroke a hand through Kasey’s hair. Brown eyes opened to him, tired but trying not to be.

“Did I fall asleep?” Kasey asked.

“Just for a minute.” Alex pressed a kiss to his temple. “Be right back.”

“Want me to come?” Kasey cleared his throat. He made the chair looks so small, and Alex caught the twinge of pain in his face when he moved his legs.

“No, I’m just—no, it’s okay.” He looked back towards Natalie. “You two should get home. I hope I won’t be too much longer.”

“Alex.” Kasey rubbed at his eyes then sat forward. “If you think we’re going anywhere right now, you’re an absolute insane person.”

“Seconded.”

They both looked up at Natalie, walking towards them and sliding her phone into her back pocket.

“Celeste?” Kasey asked.

“It was Sirius actually,” Natalie said. “Checking in. This is not the time, nor the place, but that man sounds extremely sexy on the phone.”

Alex cracked the barest of a smile. He stood, suddenly feeling like it would burn him through and through if he stayed still for one more second. “Does he now?”

Natalie just kissed his cheek. “Not nearly as good as you. Only, I prefer hearing your voice face to face.”

“IRL?” Alex asked. He pushed his hands in his pockets and tried to figure out how to stop his throat from closing up when he caught another glimpse of his mom’s face.

“No one says IRL,” Natalie said softly, but her eyes were flicking all over his face. “Alex—”

“I’m gonna go check on him,” Alex said, and turned away fast before she could see anything else he didn’t want her to.

The hospital lights remained just as bright down the hallway and—oh. There they were. Leo was sitting on a chair outside of Finn’s room. Logan was leaning against the opposite wall, glaring at the shut door like he could open it with his gaze alone.

“Hey,” Leo stood when he caught sight of him. He looked tired, shoulders slumped down. “Sorry, we just…” Leo sent a glance at Logan, who hadn’t moved. Hadn’t so much as blinked. “We’re feeling like the waiting room’s a little too far away right now, so…”

“Isn’t that cute,” Alex said and that got him a darting glare from Logan. Alex smiled tightly at Leo, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You guys okay? Need anything?”

“To get inside,” Logan grumbled pointedly, just as the door opened and the doctor slipped through. Logan stood straight, every muscle in him straining forward as the doctor shut the door again. She turned and her eyes hesitated on Alex.

“You’re twins?” she asked.

“Brothers,” Alex said faintly.

“Ah. Well, you can go in and see him now.” She smiled sympathetically and began walking down the hallway towards the waiting room. “He’s a talker, that one, isn’t he?”

Alex felt something that he thought was relief flood through him. He heard Leo let out a breath.

“Yeah,” Leo said. “Yeah, he is.”

Logan pushed off of the wall, and Alex barely got a hand on his chest to stop him before his hand was on the doorknob.

“Alex,” Logan said, hovering between demanding and questioning.

“Listen,” Alex said. “I know you…I know it’s…” Alex shut his eyes. They were so dry from the air that it hurt. “Can I just have a second with him? Please.”

Logan looked like he was going to protest. The look in his eyes was almost anger, or maybe frustration, but Leo stepped forward.

“Of course,” he said, and took Logan’s hand, pulling him a step back. “Of course you can. We’ll wait.”

Alex looked at him. Blue eyes. Leo hadn’t been there for so much of it, of Finn’s hurt and Logan’s ache, but he seemed to understand somehow. Alex felt a sort of kinship to him in that way. Somehow, despite the odds, both of them had become the missing halves to, not one, but two people who had already made a whole.

“Thank you,” Alex said softly, then looked at Logan. “Tremz, thanks. Really.”

Logan still didn’t look happy about it, but he nodded. He covered Leo’s hand entirely with both of his own.

No more bright lights. Not in this room. There was a soft, unobtrusive light for the doctors to see by, but that was all.

“Doesn’t it remind you of the kind that line the aisles on airplanes?” Finn’s voice said from the bed. “You know? The emergency ones.”

Alex nodded. “Mhm.”

“It’s you, Al, right?”

“Mhm,” Alex said.

“Hm,” Finn said. “Quite the game, Hazard.”

“Hazard,” Jack began to say in the locker room. He looked wrecked after the game.

Alex shook his head. “Don’t talk to me.”

Jack walked forward, at least he tried to. Will stopped him with a hand on his chest. It wasn’t aggressive. That wasn’t Will’s way. Will gave a small shake of his head, but Jack kept talking.

“It was an accident. I—okay, but I didn’t mean to hit him that hard. I thought he’d brace himself, he saw me coming—”

“I said don’t talk to me.” Alex said, then he shouldered past Logan and stepped up until all that separated him and Jack was Will’s palm. “For as long as you’re here, and I don’t think that will be for much longer, don’t talk to me.”

Jack’s eyes were wide, and for all his skill, he looked about twelve years old in that moment. With the sneer that crossed his face, a short disbelieving smile.

“We…” Jack shook his head. “But we won the game.”

It took everything in Alex to not hurt him, and most of Logan’s strength, too, when he got his arms around Alex’s, pinning them down before he could raise his fist any higher. Jack still flinched. At least Jack still flinched.

“We shouldn’t,” Logan breathed shakily, mouth close to Alex’s ear. “Alex. Alex, we shouldn’t.”

Alex cursed and shook Logan and Will off.

“We won the game,” Alex parroted under his breath, and then slammed a hand against his stall. “Get the fuck out of my sight, Archer.”

Finn didn’t look horrible, which was good. He looked more relaxed than Alex had anticipated. Aside from the sling, he would have looked almost normal. He had one knee bent, foot planted on the hospital bed. He had the hood of his sweatshirt up—Rangers blue—and after a moment of thinking of Logan, Alex realized it was his own.

Finn caught him looking and plucked at it with his good hand. “Think it’s bad luck? Mom brought it to me.”

Alex, just looked at him. It was the hood up maybe, mussing his hair. Or the socked feet. Or the tiredness all over his face. Something was making Finn look younger than he really was, something was making Alex feel like he was looking at his kid brother again, leaving Finn at home for the NHL. Getting this call.

Finn’s mouth pulled to the side and he smoothed the logo. “I don’t think it is. I like it.”

Those short sentences he’d been saying since he was eight. So sure of himself. The pizza on Prince street is better. That girl smiled at me. She likes me. So damn sure of everything. Logan had been the first to shake him out of the habit. Maybe Alex was a little angry with him about that, or at least he had been at one time.

Alex nodded. He walked forward to stand at the edge of Finn’s bed. There was a chair there but he didn’t sit. He reached out and tugged the hood more firmly over Finn’s hair, making him laugh.

“I’m good, Al,” Finn said. “Really.”

Alex didn’t reply. He just sat on the edge of the bed and waited half a second for Finn to get the message before laying down. He hugging his little brother as hard as he dared. He felt Finn push into his hold, the same way he had at five when having a nightmare, at fourteen when Alex was leaving, at nineteen when everything seemed wrong, and everything seemed right, but Alex just couldn’t figure out what.

“Al,” Finn said. It was an awkward position, but he managed to get his good arm around Alex’s back. “Al, I’m fine, I promise. Even the doctor said—”

“Just let me,” Alex whispered hoarsely. “Just be quiet and let me fucking worry about you.”

Finn melted a little more against him. “Okay. All right.”

Alex couldn’t help the hitching sob that he let out against Finn’s shoulder, and he felt Finn’s fingers curl in his hair.

“It’s okay,” Finn whispered. “It’s okay…”

“You can’t do that to me,” Alex managed, fisting the sweatshirt against Finn’s back. “You can’t do that to me, you can’t…”

“I know, I know,” Finn said softly. “Al, I’m sorry. I love you, I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologize.” Alex sniffed and pressed a hard kiss to Finn’s temple. “You’re just like—you just didn’t move. And you’re my…”

“Al…” Finn turned on his a little more onto his good side so that his hand beneath Alex could pat at his back. Alex was probably crushing it but he didn’t care just then. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

“You’re my baby brother and I love you so much,” Alex said. “And I can’t protect you from anything.”

And maybe that was it. Harvard, Logan, hockey. If only they had talked about it.

“Stop,” Finn said when Alex turned his face into his sweatshirt. “Stop, yes you can. You always do.”

Alex made a sound that made them both laugh wetly.

“Were there words in there?” Finn asked.

“Not really.” The door opened, a quiet snick of a sound, and Alex whispered to Finn, “Thought Tremz was gonna kill me for keeping him—”

“Oh, my boys,” their mother’s voice said softly. Not Logan and Leo then. “Rams, honey, shut out that hallway light.”

The door closed again and Alex looked up in time to see his mom stroke a hand down Finn’s cheek.

“How are you, baby?”

Finn, his good hand trapped under Alex, just leaned into her palm. “I’m okay, mom. I promise.”

Haley just narrowed her eyes skeptically. “You’d say you were okay if there was an astroid hurdling towards you.” She turned to Alex, petting a hand through his hair. “Are you okay? My slightly older baby.”

Alex just kept his face half-hidden in Finn’s sweatshirt, glad for the dim light.

“We’ll be okay soon,” Finn said for him. “How’s that?”

“I guess good enough,” Ramsey said, and walked forward and put a hand on Finn’s knee. “Your boys are outside. Logan looks like he’s about to turn into the Hulk.”

“Aw shucks,” Finn smiled.

“Probably because he knows I’m in his spot,” Alex managed, and his mother gave him a knowing look at the sound of recently shed tears in his voice. Alex pushed himself up and looked down at Finn.

“My hand's asleep from your big butt,” Finn said.

Alex rolled his eyes, wiped at his cheeks, and stood.

“The doc just doesn’t want too many people in here,” Haley said. “We promised we’d take turns. Now, I’m gonna get you some water—or maybe something to eat?” She looked at Alex. “Honey, Nat and Kasey are in the waiting room, they said—”

“I… What? I told them they could go home,” Alex said.

Finn snorted, then groaned a little, closing his eyes. “As if they’d go anywhere without you.”

“Especially tonight,” Haley said, petting a hand through Finn’s hair again. “You’re burning up, baby.”

Alex looked towards the door, frowning. “Still. I said it was all right.”

“It’s always like this,” Finn said to his mom, then opened his eyes and looked at Alex. “Maybe they could see that it wasn’t all right.”

“It is,” Alex said. “They’re probably tired.”

“They know you need them right now.”

Haley looked between them for a moment. Alex met her eyes. He watched them drop to his chest and looked down to see that he was fiddling with Kasey’s diamond.

“You’re okay,” Alex said. He wiped at his face. “We’re fine. I’m fine.”

“Leo sees right through me all the time,” Finn said. “Think of it like that.”

“Well.” Haley sighed. “Why don’t I send him right in here, then,” She rose from the bed and put her arms around Alex. “So he can see through your okays just like you’re seeing through your brother’s.”

~

Logan was in the past, Leo could see it all over his face. There was no part of him actually in the hallway right then. He was back in the limbo that he and Finn went to sometimes. The spaces in between the hurt and the healing. The memories and the moments. All Leo could do was lean against the wall next to him and watch his face as they both listened to the faint murmurs of the O’Hara’s voices.

“He’s doing fine, sweetheart,” Leo said. “He’s just got his family in there, that’s all.”

“We’re his family.”

“Lo.”

“I know. Sorry.” Logan turned, pushing off the wall. He settled his hands under Leo’s sweatshirt on his hips. He tilted his head up to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. “I’m just…”

Leo took Logan’s face in his hands, admiring the way his cheeks filled his palms. “Me too.”

“I’m glad we can be like this,” Logan whispered. “Here. Now. Under these stupid bright lights.”

Leo pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Yeah. I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t hold you like this right now.” He looked over Logan’s head at the closed door. “I want to hold him right now.”

Logan closed his eyes and Leo couldn’t help but kiss his forehead again. His eyelids, then his nose. He pictured an eighteen year old Logan in a hospital like this one, waiting in the hallway. You’re his teammate? Family only for now, honey.

“Lo?”

Logan looked up at him.

“What was it like? The first time.”

Logan sighed and Leo moved his palms down to settle around his waist. “It’s…”

Logan blinked, and Leo watched him go to the past again. Far away. He tensed in his hold. Leo hated it, he hated everything about that look on Logan’s face, but he wanted to know. He needed to know. It had been so long since he felt behind the two of them. A strange feeling, left behind in the present while they went back to the past.

“Lo,” Leo whispered. “Please. I need to know—”

The door clicked open and Haley appeared first, turned back towards the bed and blowing a kiss with her hand. “We’ll see you tomorrow, baby, okay? Please rest.”

Leo had thought Finn would be asleep. Or groggy. Too exhausted to speak in something above a whisper. The sheer weight of worry on his back broke when he heard Finn’s laugh from inside the room. He felt Logan sway against him.

“Okay, Mom,” Finn’s voice came. “I love you guys.”

Haley turned and, even though she looked like she had been crying, she took in Leo and Logan, wrapped up together, and smiled. “He’s dying to see you two.”

~

“Usually its you who finds me down here.”

Remus stopped hard on his skates near the center of the synthetic ice, sweat shining in the  dim basement lights. Sirius had thought he was coming to bed. He had sat upstairs until he realized that there were no more sounds coming from the kitchen. Regulus was in his room. All that was left was the rink downstairs.

Sirius looked down, letting Remus take his time. Remus’ phone was on the edge of the boards. There was a video lighting up the screen. A press conference. Jack Archer. Sirius didn’t need to hit play. He’d seen it, but he hadn’t even needed to do that. They’d all heard him begging Leo in the hallway. It was an accident. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I thought he’d brace himself. It’s hockey—

“Whatever it was,” Remus said. “There was purpose behind it. That’s what I think.”

Sirius looked up. Remus had silently made his way over. He was wearing one of Sirius’ sweatshirts, thumb poking through a hole in one of the sleeves. He spun his stick before letting it drop to the ground with a clatter.

“Sounds like Leo does, too,” Remus said. “At least there are no secrets that need keeping this time. Not like it was with…”

Fenrir.

“Re,” Sirius said softly.

“It’s not about me,” Remus said. He pushed himself over the boards, one leg, then the other, but before he could touch the ground Sirius stepped between his dangling skates. He settled his hands on Remus’ hips to keep him in place.

Remus had his eyes on Sirius’ sweatshirt. It was from their Cup day. Rainbow taped sticks crossed over the Cup’s silhouette. “We should go to bed, we have a flight tomorrow. We have a game.”

“Not until you look at me,” Sirius said.

Remus widened his eyes, honey-colored in this light, and looked right at Sirius. “I am looking at you.”

“Re,” Sirius said.

Slowly, Remus’ face relaxed and he let his forehead drop forward onto Sirius’ shoulder.

“We lost.”

“We’re tied.” Sirius kissed Remus’ neck, then knelt in front of him. He set one skate on his thigh and began to undo the laces. “And you need to rest. We need you out there.”

Remus watched his hands work. He got through one skate and pulled it off gently, taking a moment to rub the arch of Remus’ foot, to dig his thumb around his ankle bones.

“Remember you doing this with my injury,” Sirius said. He drew off the tight compression sock and rubbed over the red lines it left behind in Remus’ skin. “I used to dream about it. About your hands.”

Remus’ smile was small. “Used to?”

Sirius reached forward and took one of Remus’ palms to kiss. “Don’t have to dream about it anymore, do I?”

He took to the other skate. Loosening the laces, easing it off.

“Did you hear anything more with Finn?” Remus asked. “Or Leo?”

“He’s doing okay, I talked to Natalie,” Sirius said. “And Leo…” I didn’t expect you to be happy. Sirius had only known one true love in his life, but he knew a troubled love when he saw one, easily. Jack was that. He and James had shared a look in the locker room. Should I go say we can hear them? Sirius had silently asked. James had shaken his head, meaning, I think that might make it worse.

“Sometimes, I wish it was just about the game,” Remus said softly when he was barefoot. “But it feels like so much more than that.”

Sirius rose and let Remus wrap his arms around his neck so he could ease him down from the boards. Remus locked their fingers together as they walked up the stairs.

“Would the game be the game if there wasn’t more to it than a ball and a stick?” Sirius shrugged. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ve been thinking about Kasey,” Remus said.

Sirius nodded. “Keep wondering when he’s going to tell the team.”

“Do you think about it?” Remus asked hesitantly. “What you would do…after?”

Sirius had never liked that word. After. He used to question its existence. His father had not settled into a good after. Retirement was never a word he used. There was always work to be done, always someone else who had wronged him, always another step to take.

Then again, his father had never gotten exactly what he wanted. Not in his career. Maybe in his wife, but Sirius would never know for sure. Not in his sons. Not in his legacy.

“I used to not be able to think about it,” Sirius said. They entered the kitchen and he went to the refrigerator to fill up a cup of water from the filter. “I thought my life would end.”

He slid the glass over to Remus and leaned against the counter beside him.

“Watching Finn go down, I thought about it,” Sirius said. “I mean, everyone thinks about it. It can be over in a second. All of it.” Sirius rubbed a thumb over Remus’ cheek. “I know I don’t have to tell you that.”

“It’s okay,” Remus said. He took a greedy drink, then smiled a little sheepishly, like he hadn’t realized how hard he had been skating.

“It used to terrify me.” Sirius smiled a little. “I wanted to play hockey forever, which I can’t do. I liked boys, who I couldn’t have. James was always going to have a family, and I would never be entirely a part of it. And James sometimes felt like the only thing I had, in the beginning days. Re, he and Lils…they took me on so many dates.”

Remus laughed and wrapped his arms around Sirius’ neck. “I remember. We could have been friends earlier, you know. If someone had been a little more…”

Sirius smiled into his kiss. “I was such an ass to you in the beginning.”

“Oh, I remember that, too.” Remus put on what, according to Thomas, was a perfect imitation of his frown, and gave a slightly French lilt to his words. “Oh, you’re an intern? Well, I’ll go to Moody then, but thanks.”

Sirius groaned and dropped his head to Remus’ shoulder. “Don’t remind me.”

Remus just laughed again and pressed a quick burst of kisses to his cheek. He shuffled closer until his bare feet were on top of Sirius’ socked ones. “It’s okay. You’ve done a pretty good job making up for it.”

Sirius rubbed a hand up and down his back slowly and felt Remus settle more against him. They were both tired, eyes closing, swaying in the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about Jack. Don’t watch that interview anymore, mon loup,” Sirius whispered. “Finn’s going to be okay.”

“Hm,” Remus said, then stepped back and took Sirius’ hands, pulling him towards the stairs. “Well. We’ll just have to kick their asses tomorrow night. Game five, baby. We’re two-two.”

Sirius let Remus lead him up to bed. He let Remus sink into his side as they brushed their teeth, and then spoon up against his back once they were under the covers. If this was what after looked like, part of him couldn’t wait.

~

Finn was sitting up. He pushed the hood of his sweatshirt back when he saw them and smiled. His red hair was soft and falling over his forehead, still sweaty from the game. Leo wanted to cry.

“Boys,” Finn sighed and patted the small space beside him on the bed with his good arm. “Don’t look at me like that. Come here.”

Logan all but collapsed at Finn’s side and Finn’s arm wound around him. Logan took Finn’s chin gently between his thumb and forefinger to steady his face. It looked like he was soaking in as much of that sweet brown color as he could. He was looking for the hurt.

“Don’t lie to me,” Logan whispered as Leo shut the door.

Finn stuck his tongue out until the tip of it touched Logan’s nose, then smiled. Logan didn’t pull away, didn’t even flinch and Finn did it again. Finn looked up at Leo, who was still standing by the door. “Le.”

Leo worried the inside of his lip. “I’ll hurt your shoulder on that side.”

Finn tapped his foot on the end of the bed, then spread his knees. It was a tight fit, but Leo managed to fold himself at the end of the bed. He took Finn’s legs and draped them around his hips, rubbing his thighs.

“Very sexy for a hospital,” Finn said. “Sexy thigh rubbing."

“How are you feeling?” Leo asked. Logan pushed his face into Finn’s neck and Leo and Finn smiled at each other. Finn closed his eyes at the feeling of Logan against him. “You’re guard dog missed you.”

“Don’t lie,” Logan mumbled.

Finn drummed his fingers over Logan’s spine. “Has a single lie come out of my mouth, baby?”

“No,” Leo said. “But we know you. The doctor said you were pretty…”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “She said I was pretty? Damn, she was pretty, too.”

Leo rolled his eyes, but secretly his chest was squeezing with relief. He hadn’t expected this Finn. Joking. He didn’t know if it was normal or because he was putting all of himself into masking the pain he was in.

“Pretty okay,” Leo pinched at his knee. “Is what I was going to say.”

“I am,” Finn said. “I mean, I know I’m on pain killers right now.”

“Yeah, you just licked Logan.”

Finn smiled and looked down until Logan peered out for a kiss. “He likes it. Don’t you, Lolo?”

Logan touched Finn’s fingers where they were poking out of his sling. “Does it hurt though?”

Finn sighed. “Yeah, of course it does. But it will be worse later so I’m hoping to enjoy right now when I don’t feel like my skull is going to fall apart.”

“Don’t say that.” Logan put his fingers to Finn’s lips.

Finn just kissed them. “Haven’t been in a bed this small in a while, hm, Lo?”

Logan’s brow creased. “Non…”

Leo watched them kiss, and he could see it. Harvard. Middle of the night. A terrified Logan, trying not to touch Finn and wanting nothing more than to help him. Leo thought he knew about Harvard, but sometimes when he saw them like this, he wasn’t sure he’d ever know anything at all.

“What about my sunshine?” Finn’s voice drew him out of his mind. Brown eyes, dim light. “Did he miss me?” 

Leo swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, he—” His voice broke and he rolled his eyes at himself when he felt a surprising tear escape.

“Aw, Le…” Finn’s brows knit together.

“Sorry, I’m just worried about you.”

Finn’s eyes were sympathetic, and he kept looking at him even as he kissed Logan’s forehead. “Shift change, Lo.”

Logan looked, Leo had to admit, a little reluctant, but he pushed himself up and leaned down for one more kiss.

“It’s okay, Lo, you can stay,” Leo said shakily.

“Non,” Logan said, and before Leo could move he pressed his hand to Leo’s thigh and kissed his cheek. “Just warming it up for you.”

It was warm. Finn tucked Leo right up against his chest. He smelled a little bit like the hospital, but if Leo pressed hard enough (and he did) there was Finn there, too. Logan took Leo’s place, settling on his stomach between Finn’s legs with his arms folded across Finn’s hips.

“Don’t cry, baby,” Finn whispered against Leo’s mouth. “Please don’t cry.”

“I love you,” Leo said thickly. “I’m sorry, I should be comforting you.”

“Shh,” Finn kissed him again, peppering them softly over his cheek. “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“I’m gonna kill Jack,” Logan said.

“He didn’t do this to me, Lo,” Finn said softly. “It was a hit.”

“We don’t know that,” Logan said, chin against Finn’s chest. In any other situation, he would have looked adorable, feet half off the bed like that. But his green eyes were dark.

“Did you confront him?” Finn asked, eyes on Logan.

Logan rolled his eyes.

“Tremz,” Finn said warningly. “You could get in serious trouble—”

“I broke my helmet,” Logan said. “I didn’t break him.”

Leo felt Finn’s hand tighten around his shoulders. “Logan.”

Leo pressed harder against Finn, watching them.

“I’m right,” Logan pushed himself up, hands on Finn’s hips. Any other time, he would have raised his voice, but he kept it soft in the dark room. Leo still thought he felt Finn wince. “He did this. Finn, he did this to you—”

“I did this,” Leo whispered.

It felt like even the machines beeping around them paused. Leo couldn’t see Finn’s face well, but Logan’s eyes snapped right to his. Leo just turned his face into Finn’s chest and let himself break.

~

Leo cursed the position of goalie, for once in his life, as he fumbled through the endless straps and buckles of his cumbersome equipment. It didn’t help that his fingers were shaking. Alex, holding Finn’s head on the ice. I’m fine. I’m fine, Le. Deadening silence and collective gasps. Logan, skating hard to catch up and—

Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack—

Leo’s jersey got caught on part of his padding, and it was as good as someone trying to hold him back. Irrational, pure rage fired through his chest and he yanked the fabric hard over his head, ripped at the the velcro of his chest pad. Some part of his mind registered how quiet the Lions locker room was around him. Some part of his mind knew how hard he was breathing, that the motion of tearing off his jersey had slammed his knuckles into his stall on accident. A bruise, probably, would form. But he couldn’t feel anything. He pulled at the laces of his skates, watching his hands shake.

“Leo…”

Kasey’s voice. Leo could hardly hear that, either.

Finn on the ice. So still. One one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand, four, five—

His pads were splayed out in front of him, around him on the ground. Finn’s stall was empty, and beside it Leo looked for green eyes and Logan and found Kota instead, quiet, not sure what to do. A new shot of anger. Logan, traded. Who would ever do that? Logan had won them a Cup, he was theirs, he was a Lion, Logan was his, he should be here.

“Le, it’s gonna be okay,” Kasey said softly, helping Leo ease the rest of his equipment off with expert, steady hands. “Let me help, okay?”

Jack. Jack. Hey, Le, look, good for you that you never had to feel scared—

Finally, it was all off of him. He didn’t feel any lighter. He locked eyes with Kasey for a long moment. Kasey, against his words, looked as scared as Leo felt. Leo yanked on a pair of sweatpants, didn’t bother to change out of his sweat-soaked shirt, and ran.

He made it five paces before meeting Jack.

Wide-eyes. Sweaty hair, still half in his gear. Even with his skates on, Leo was taller. Leo looked for bruises, blood, something to show him that Logan had gotten to him first. Nothing.

“Leo,” Jack said.

That look on his face. Leo was back in eleventh grade and he’d said something wrong, he’d said something when they were somewhere too bright, too crowded, Leo, what the fuck, what are you doing—

Jack put his hands up. Surrender. As if he even had that right. “Leo.”

Leo hadn’t realized that he had frozen to the spot. Not until Jack started walking forward. Not until he said his name again. Leo, stop it. God, it can’t always be like that. Okay? Shaking his hands off. Stop.

“Leo—”

“No,” Leo said. “No.”

Jack blinked once, again, swallowed hard. “Le…”

“Get out of my way.”

“No—”

“Get out of my way.” He shoved Jack in the chest hard, and when it didn’t feel like enough to watch him stumble backwards, he did it again. Jack just stared at him, bracing himself against the wall. Leo snapped all over again. If those first words had hurt his throat, his next ones tore at him. They were laced with the throb of tears, unshed. He shoved Jack hard a third time and watched the way he winced. “What is—What the hell is wrong with you?”

“No, no,” Jack whispered. “Please, you don’t understand—”

Leo didn’t recognized the sound of pure frustration he made. He wanted to bring something down, Jack, the wall, this entire building.

“What is wrong with you?” he shouted again.

“It was an accident,” Jack said. “He had—” Jack closed his eyes. “I wasn’t—He just folded, he fucking folded, how was I supposed to know? This is hockey.”

“That wasn’t hockey. Finn has a concussion.” Leo wasn’t sure how he knew, but he knew. “This is his third. Did you know that? Did you stop to think about that?”

Jack put a hand over his eyes. “No. No, I—”

“Do you know what three concussions can do to a person? Did you think about that before you fucking snapped and shoved his head into the boards?”

“C’mon, I…” Jack sounded close to tears, too. “C’mon, Le, that’s not what happened, please—”

“If you’re angry at me,” Leo shouted, “takeit out on me.”

“I’m not angry at you,” Jack roared back.

Leo curled his hands into fists. “You think I don’t know that? I didn’t do anything.”

Jack didn’t react like Leo thought he would. Leo waited for him to explode back at him again. He almost wanted it. He wanted to get this over with. Finn needed him. He needed Finn. He needed Logan’s hand on his back, Finn letting them take him home. He needed to see Finn safe and okay and not still and pale out on the ice.

Instead, Jack sagged in front of him in the hallway. He looked up at Leo, cheeks and neck red. “Le.”

“Don’t waste my fucking time,” Leo said. “I’m done. I’m so fucking done with you.”

“I,” Jack began. “I didn’t mean to.”

“What did you mean?” Leo said. “For once in your life, why don’t you tell me what you actually meant. Because, honest to God, I don’t think I’ve ever known. Because I’m not here to clean up your messes anymore. I’m not here to make you feel better about yourself, or to tell you its okay. I broke that habit a long time ago.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Jack said again.

“What did you mean?”

“I don’t know. I…It’s hockey, you just snap sometimes, it’s adrenaline, it’s—it’s the game. I went too far, I know that, but he’s…he’s…”

“He’s what?” Leo shouted. “What, what, what, speak or get out of my way.”

“He’s happy.”

Leo pressed his hand over his eyes. “God, I’m going to kill you. I’m going to fucking kill you, I don’t even know—how to respond to that. Get out of my way.”

Leo pushed through him, but Jack grabbed his hand.

“I didn’t expect you to be happy,” he said, and Leo froze all over again.

He tried, for a moment, to remember if he’d been happy when Jack was in his life. Or, if he’d only thought he was. His childhood bedroom, dark, Jack flinching at every sound from the larger house. Jack’s skin touching his, and Leo thinking that he would do anything, panicking over how much he could do to keep them this way for as long as possible. To make Jack give him a smile when it was all over.

Finn, hurting now but always soft and grinning on the pillows. C’mere. Come here, baby. Logan, leaning over him, thumb against his lip. Let’s stay up all night. Leo, smiling, why? Logan, leaning down for a kiss. I wanna keep looking at you.

“But you are,” Jack whispered. “You’rehappy, and it…Fuck. It falls off of you three like…like something you can see.”

Slowly, Leo turned. He pulled his hand out of Jack’s and close to his chest, cradling it like it was broken.

“So you hit him?” Leo asked, voice breaking.

“I got…it all got tangled. Logan hates me. Finn hates me. Alex, Percy, Will, even Luke…”

“You hardly even know them.”

“You hate me.”

“I don’t.”

Jack took a long time before shaking his head. “You do.”

“Jack. I hate what you did to me I hate how you treated me.” Leo took a breath. “I don’t think about you enough to hate you.”

Leo turned and gave himself the pleasure-pain of being the one to walk away first.

~

“Le,” Finn whispered. Leo could tell he was looking at Logan, probably wide-eyed, but he didn’t dare move from his place hiding against Finn. He heard him mouth softly to Logan, Happy? What the fuck?

“Leo,” Finn said again. “Leo.”

Logan was scrambling up from his place in a moment. He squeezed himself to sit on the very edge of the bed against Leo’s back. Leo felt him lean over him and pull at his sweatshirt.

“Leo,” Logan whispered. “Non. Non, non…”

Leo let out an ugly sound and clutched Finn closer.

“Baby,” Finn said. “Look at me.” He went to reach with his bad arm and hissed in pain. “Look at me. This isn’t your fault. Oh my God, Le, this isn’t your fault, baby.”

He felt Logan curl his body over his, felt his nose press against his jaw. He pulled until Leo sat up, but when he tried to wrap him in his arms, Leo stood.

“It’s true,” Leo said. “Hockey does tangle with everything else.” He stood, looking at them sitting side by side on the bed. “And I know that because Logan wants to kill Jack for what he did, and so do I. Think of—Fenrir and Remus.” Remus’ career almost ended, just for a number on a ranking board. “Or Regulus and Sirius.” Feuding over family nonsense. Jack. Jack, Jack. “Things…unravel. And they come out on the ice.”

“That doesn’t make you responsible,” Finn said. He had a bright flush to his cheeks. He was leaning back into his pillows more.

“Jack came for you because of me,” Leo said.

“Leo,” Finn said softly. He lay back on the bed, hand to his forehead. He closed his eyes. “No, baby, you…” He trailed off.

“Finn?” Logan whispered. His attention was pulled away from Leo and he leaned over Finn. He put a hand to his cheek. “Oh.” He reached for the cup at Finn’s bedside and, instead of holding it to Finn’s mouth like Leo had expected it to, he dipped his fingers into the cool water before running them through Finn’s hair. Finn let out a relieved sound. “Just rest, Rouge. Let’s get you home.”

Leo held his breath. He felt stupid. So stupid, standing there. Talking about himself. He wrapped his arms around his stomach and watched Logan press feather-light kisses to Finn’s face.

“Mon rouge, just sleep. We’ll check out and we’ll go home. We’ll go home.”

“Leo,” Finn mumbled, eyes closed.

“No,” Leo heard himself say. “No, never mind.” He moved towards the door and felt Logan’s eyes follow him.

“Soleil,” Logan began to say.

“I’ll take care of the paperwork,” Leo said, and pushed out the door.

[kuro4thegays]

- No chocolate, just fruit on White day

[Word count: 3.8k] [Kaveh x male!reader] [Content: nsfw, top Kaveh, bottom reader, food play specifically fruit, if your squeamish please do know that there is a lot of saliva in this fic, oral(reader receiving), kinda crack fic-ish, please don't take it too seriously]

White Day, the day when people give reciprocal gifts to their loved ones, showing their thankfulness and commitment. 

“What took you so long?”

Oh, the sight that greeted Kaveh when he entered the bedroom, provocative would be an understatement. His cheeks were burning red even before he got to set his gaze on your face, yet when he did he was met with an expression that screamed nothing short of absolute pride.

“Work…” Kaveh’s mind was somewhere else at this point, completely lost within his own carnal instincts. God, why did you have to do this to him? I mean, how is one supposed to react when finding their dearest spouse barely dressed on the bed surrounded by all kinds of colorful fruits? Oh, and you looked damn good in his shirt, don’t think he missed how you left everything untied and loose, that single piece of cloth casually resting over your crotch was enough to single handedly drive him mad with desire. He just needed to rip them off of you.

You could just giggle to yourself, to be completely honest this was the outcome you expected, even aimed for. If there was anything better than listening to Kaveh’s passionate rambles it was seeing that passion in action.

“What is the meaning of this?” He stuttered, his brain must have been boiling inside his skull by how much heat radiated from his body. He took a careful step forward, yet immediately stopped himself on the second one. He knew it would be too late to stop once he reached the forbidden fruit.

“White day.” Your words were simple, perhaps painfully so. When have you planned this? Where did all the fruits come from? How long have you been waiting for him like this? Why him? Yet Kaveh's tongue was too busy licking his lips to be able to ask any of those questions.

“I see…” He mumbled. It seems he still needed a little push.

You picked up one of your many tools, a ripe bright yellow banana, and pushed your nail into the tip before beginning to peel it. Kaveh's eyes widened as he observed your actions, he knew exactly where this was going yet didn't want it to stop even for a moment. You threw the banana peel somewhere to the side, neither of you even batting an eye on where it landed, before placing the end to your lips, your tongue dipping out and licking the phallic fruit. 

Another step closer…

You licking eventually turned into suckling, merged with subtle whimpers sprinkled in with the intention of driving the other man crazy. Finally, you pushed the fruit further past your lips, your eyes falling shut to focus on the sensation before letting out the lewdest moan you could manage with your mouth full. “Kaveh…” The banana slid out just as fast as it came in and, not to your surprise, when you opened your eyes back again you found Kaveh staring right back into you, now the distance between you two much, much shorter.

“[name],” His breath was hot, temperature matching the one of his soft skin. “All this for me?” His eyes searched yours for any trace of approval and you were ready to provide as much as he needed.

“All for you, only you.” You broke the little string of spit connecting your lips to the banana only to set your focus on a much more enticing meal. “You know I’m all yours.” You didn’t give him a chance to respond before leaning in for a kiss and he did the same. Your tongue clashed against his, the sweetness of his lips rivaling all the fruit you have prepared for tonight. No wine was a match to how you made him feel, nothing could make him feel even close to how you did. Which is why his grip tightened…

His kiss was desperate, needy and hungry for more, like your lips would disappear if he let go, like you wouldn’t be there anymore once he were to open his eyes again. His passion felt all devouring, like a fire setting everything near it ablaze. Everything about him felt urgent, like neither of you will be there tomorrow. 

Breathing seemed secondary, hence you were the one who physically had to pull him back. “Hey, breathe…” You shushed him, replacing the passionate make out with softer kisses on the cheek, a few extra ones along his jawline. “No need to rush, we have the whole night just for ourselves.”

“Right.” He was practically panting, his poor tortured lungs desperate for air, yet his lips still seemed like they were yearning for more. “You just do this thing to me… and once I start I feel like I can’t stop.” He whispered, needy hands reaching out to push you against the bed headboard, grabbing onto your shoulders to stable himself. “I just don’t want this thing we have going on to end.” He gulped. “I’m scared.”

“Kaveh…” You only found it in yourself to smile at him, his honesty was something to be admired. “I’m here with you, and I’ll wake up with you tomorrow, and the day after that, and after.” You could have gone on forever, yet decided to cut it off there. “Let yourself have this… and let me have the pleasure of knowing you, loving you, ‘kay?”

He could only nod. “Alright.” His lips found yours again, now much more secure in their movements. “You’re the most gorgeous man I know, inside and out.”

You chuckled yet again. “Shall we continue?”

The two of you quickly returned to your previous ministrations, letting your bodies collide onto the bed, Kaveh’s shirt gone within seconds while you still found your comfort in his loose one. His hand met yours, the one that was still holding the banana and brought the fruit up to his lips. His tongue escaped past his lips and licked the lengthy fruit end to end, thriving as he tasted the leftover saliva you left on the phallic object. He started mimicking your actions, taking the saliva covered banana and sucking the tip off before pushing further and further in until about half was already in.

“Tch, greedy.” You scoffed, grabbing his shoulders and holding him in place. You got him right where you wanted, mouth full with nowhere to turn to. When Kaveh opened his eyes again he found himself in disbelief with what he saw, your face inching closer to his as you sucked the other end of the banana. If his dick was only half hard before by now it was surely a rock hard erection. Eventually, your nose brushed against his as you both vigorously sucked onto the fruit like it was your lifeline, rhythmically pushing in and out, making it so that your lips touched each time you tried to take it deeper. The only question was who was going to break the connection off first.

Your movements turned sloppy, drool running down both your chins, which is probably why the banana slowly split in half, now moist and falling apart, making neither of you the loser in this game.

Kaveh quickly gobbled up his half of the banana, though his taste buds seemed to be craving something else. “More…” He grabbed your hips, pushing you down and stabling himself above you. “Give me more.” He was getting more confident and open about his needs, just how you liked it.

Unfortunately, as you got pushed down your hand fell upon a rather juicy orange, squeezing it until it squirted out its sweet juice. “Oh.” You turned around to check the sudden source of wetness covering the palm of your hand, finding the full plump fruit in all its crushed glory with the juices staining your hand. “Look at the mess you made.” You were quick to throw all the blame on him, bringing your hand up to his face and showing him the consequences of his actions. “What are you waiting for?” Your voice cut through the tension. “Clean up.”

He couldn’t hold in the gasp that freely spilled from his lips, the heat of the moment was becoming dizzying. He wanted to say something, something flirty and equally suggestive, but before he could do so his tongue had already escaped its confinement. The juice had already started drizzling down your arm, but before the first droplet could slither away he caught it in his mouth. Fruit was already one of his favorites, but God, he never knew it could taste even better when consumed off of your smooth skin. He licked up your arm, tongue worshiping your being as he reached the source, your palm, now all sticky from orange juice.

More, more, more… 

His mind kept screaming.

Both his arms were holding his meal in place, one gripping your arm while the other gently caressed the palm of your hand, ticklish motions causing your fingers to curl only slightly. He would be a fool not to notice how your fingers begged for his attention. So he readjusted his position.

Opening his mouth, now wider, he sucked on each of your fingers individually, giving each plenty of his care and attention as he groomed the sticky spots, sweet citrus more enticing than ever. It started with one finger, but soon he was taking three at a time, almost letting you touch the back of his throat before pulling back out… and then back in again… and out. Yet the citrus’ juice eventually faded.

He didn’t even need to say anything, his begging eyes were already talking by themselves. “Not enough?” You raised an eyebrow. Your teasing really did get onto his nerves sometimes. Yet you chose not to deny him this time. “Fine, fine. But…”

You got his attention.

“You can only have what I give you.”

It was a deal.

The sweet fruit still had something left in it so you capitalized off of it. Through the gap in your, or rather Kaveh’s, shirt you squeezed the remaining juice and watched as the droplets slithered down your chest, leaving cold trails in their wake. Matching your eagerness, Kaveh leached onto your chest in the matter of seconds, lapping his tongue over the moist surface and taking in all the fruity sweetness he could. So it was no surprise when his enthusiastic lick turned into rough sucks once he found the stray pearly bead that reached your nipple. If orange tasted good off of your fingers it tasted even better off of your nipples.

Moans were the only thing that left your swollen lips at this point, your pretty melodies serving as music to Kaveh’s ears. The little bud hardened under his tongue while the other was basically fighting for its life, being tortured by his thumb, as he spoiled them with his attention. You, of course, rewarded him with more fresh citrus, but instead of squeezing this time you chose a different method of extracting the juice. “Yeah, keep doing that.” Your eyes fell shut, groaning for him to continue as you grabbed the orange. Before Kaveh realized it he sucked all the juices from your chest dry, leaving him looking up to you for more like a lost puppy.

“Look at me.” Your call immediately stole his attention. Now, with his eyes all over you, you positioned the orange right above the area between your legs that was still modestly covered with that loose piece of Kaveh’s shirt. You tucked the fabric away, throwing away any semblance of modesty you might have kept up before, and rather aggressively stabbed your two fingers right into the orange’s center, observing as the extract squirted out onto your raging erection. 

“You want more, right?” You laughed. “Come and get it.” 

And Kaveh did as he was told, practically drooling just at the sight of your precum mixing with the sweet juice, the erotic sight of you fingering the orange not helping at all with his wild imagination. He leaned down before even a second passed, your cock stuffing his mouth full as he took it in with no resistance.

“It tastes so good…” Kaveh's moans were almost enough to make you cum on the spot. Oh, and his eyes, they almost appeared like they were glowing from this angle. You gave into his demands without any of your usual teasing, milking the orange for its last bits of juice onto his face and your cock by extension.

“Fuck,” Your actions only made him sped up the pace, licks against your sensitivity tip accelerating. “You like that, huh?” You threw your head back, muscles flexing and toes curling in anticipation, knowing that there is no going back now.

“I’m gonna cum…” You whined, thrusting your hips in motion with his mouth, focusing all your strength on the stomach area. You felt numbness envelop your body down from the legs to your abdomen, pure want and desire washing away any sense of exhaustion that might have previously stopped you. Your muscles flexed, body spasming as your hips arched into his warm wetness. You couldn't hold your mouth shut anymore. The whine that came out of you was pornographic, loud and proud without any shame or fear of judgment, as you released everything into his awaiting mouth.

Your thighs locked onto Kaveh’s head, back falling down onto the bed, holding him in place and making him take your fresh cum like a good boy he wanted to be. He gave your shaft a few final licks, taking in every drop of cum that somehow managed to escape his lips before rising up above you to show you his good work.

“You still have it in you for more.” It wasn’t a question anymore, it was straight up a demand this time. Kaveh was and always will be attractive to you, but oh God, you didn’t know he could be so much hotter when he started getting more outspoken about his needs, you could even say a bit spoiled.

Your response boiled down to an exhausted nod, body heating up again under him, watching your own cum staining his perfectly shaped lips.

He leaned down until your lips met again. You opened your mouth only slightly, yet that was enough for him to force his tongue in. What met you was not just his taste, but the mixture of his saliva and your essence forming a substance you could only describe as devine. Still, there were more potential ingredients to your little mix.

Your hands reached out, tongue still busy with his, and grabbed a nice pair of cherries. Somehow, you were able to push Kaveh away for a moment, just enough of a distance to be able to look at him. The poor guy looked so confused, like he had made a great mistake he wasn’t aware of, yet as soon as you dangled the fruit in front of him he already had an idea of what you were going for. He was really getting into the whole thing now, each fruit seeming like another possibility for something he never even considered before. His eyes had that passionate glow you fell in love all those years back. You could say many things about your relationship with Kaveh, but calling it boring would certainly be a big lie.

Your tongue lolled out, the bright red cherry placed right between your lips. Kaveh got the message without even having to think about it and attacked your needy lips in the matter of seconds. He sucked on the cherry from your lips, taking his time in how he handled you. You wanted to comment on your current predicament, perhaps both of you did, but with your tongues tangled together and busy even God himself wouldn’t be able to help you get the words out.

Finally, he let you win in this erotic little dance of yours, letting the charry go in your mouth, though now its taste was overshadowed by your own juices mixed with Kaveh’s saliva, a combination you could only describe as heavenly. That said, your attention was stolen yet again by Kaveh’s actions, his possessive hold on your hips tightening as he dragged your body down along the bedsheets. “Get on all fours for me, would you?” He whispered and you obeyed.

You turned around onto your stomach and got onto your hands and knees, throwing subtle, yet inviting, looks his way before spitting out the cherry pit. His hands started groping your hips again, bringing your ass closer to him. He started with only one finger, yet found the process of inserting it a bit too comfortable, so he continued with the second one. Again, no struggle. Only when he added the third finger could he feel the slightest bit of resistance. “You stretched yourself out beforehand, didn't you?” You could feel the excitement radiating off of him.

“Maybe.” You wiggled your ass at him, that and the vague answer only there to rile him up even more.

He chuckled, somehow he knew you were going to say that. “All this for me?” He chuckled, one hand tangling itself in your hair, making you look at him, while the other searched for something. “Is there anyone else in the room with us?” Your teasing proved to be quite arousing to Kaveh. “Shut up…” He turned his gaze away.

He found what he was looking for. A perfectly shaped, slightly bigger than average, strawberry. You tried to get a better look over your shoulder at what he was doing, but didn’t catch anything, instead you felt an unidentified object penetrate your tight ass. “Huh?” Was he not going to stick it in already, that man must have had the patience of a God. Unfortunately, he was getting quite a good grasp on this whole fruit thing.

“I can play that game too.” He descended, his head now finding comfort nuzzling between your ass cheeks. He used his tongue to further tease your rim, licking and sucking on the part of the strawberry sticking out of it like it was a butt plug. His breath felt so warm against your sensitive areas, you were getting hard again just by having his face so intimately close to your hole.

He bit into the crimson strawberry, pulling it out with his mouth and gobbling the whole thing down in a single bite before getting back into action as sticking his tongue up your sensitive rim again. “Fuck…” You cried out, arching your back into the mattress as he licked your insides clean, the strawberry juice trickling down from your hole. “Please, Kaveh… just fuck me already.” Your teasing turned into begging, but luckily he wasn’t a picky man.

With a light tap on your ass Kaveh pulled out momentarily. “Are you begging now?” He giggled, it really felt good having someone wrapped around his fingers like this. “But how could I ever deny a pretty boy like you?” He placed the softest kiss on the nape of your neck, a small gesture to ease you for what was about to come.

He got into a comfortable position, leaning above you, before setting his erection free from its confinements and giving it an experimental stroke. After spreading the precum all around the head he adjusted his stance and pressed the tip to your tight pucker hole. “Ready?”

You could just return him an excited nod, grinding your cheeks against his dick in hopes that it’ll make him put it in sooner. Expectantly, your plan worked.

His thick shaft pierced your asshole, slowly entering your most intimate spot before bottoming out completely. The moan that spilled out of Kaveh’s mouth felt guttural, like that of a starved man finally being fed some good food, the twitching of his cock causing enough friction to stimulate your prostate just a tiny bit. “You’re so tight.” He breathed out, pulling out almost entirely before thrusting in again. It took him no more than two thrusts to find your sweet spot and when he did he knew how to abuse that knowledge.

His pace quickened, desperation merging with the air around you until the whole room felt hot. You tried to match his pace with your constant grinding, but found it hard to keep up while getting stabbed in the prostate with each thrust. Eventually, you gave up all your control, your head buried in the soft pillows, your drool making a mess everywhere.

“Look up.” His words were followed up by quick and shallow exhales, grabbing your hair and tugging your head back. “Bite down.” He shoved an apple into your face and with no other choice you bit down, probably harder than he meant you to. “Good boy.”

His moans were louder than ever, his voice rising in pitch the closer he got to climaxing. “[name],” He groaned. “I can’t help it… when you tighten around me. I think I’m going to…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, his poor lungs were already in desperate need of air and talking wasn’t helping. You, on the other hand, could just whimper and whine around the apple like a bitch in heat, fingers arching as your hand searched for your own neglected cock. With just a few pumps you felt your legs going numb, eyes falling shut as your body almost tried to reject the sudden onslaught of pleasure, but Kaveh’s hold was too firm to let you get away. With just a single extra thrust your cock released its load, balls tightening as the explosive wave of your own orgasm took over.

Kaveh was no different. “Yes, yes- hah… tighten.” He couldn’t hold it in anymore, the clenching of your hole was basically milking his balls for everything they had. It took him just a few more thrust before he spilled himself inside and what an orgasm it was. Almost instantly his body gave out, falling right on top of yours and knocking the breath out of your lungs.

“No more…” You released the apple from your bite, gasping for air as soon as you got the chance. Only now could you feel how sweaty your body has gotten, the thin glossy layer almost enveloping you whole. Both of you were left panting, how could you not after such an explosive climax?

“You’re too good for me?” Among the sea of desperate pants Kaveh managed to let a few words out. 

“How is that the conclusion you reached after this?” You chuckled, giving into his embrace.

“You make me feel better than I thought possible.” He nuzzled your nape, the same spot he kissed just a moment earlier. His body was slowly cooling down, yet he still wasn’t ready to pull out. You could shower in the morning anyways, he thought.

“You do the same to me.” You buried your head back into the mattress. “Guess we’re equal.”

“Yeah.” His speech turned into quiet mumbling, just enough for only you to hear. “Thank you.”

“Thank you too.” You whispered.

“For what?”

“For being here with me”

-

You had to eat fruit salads for the rest of the week.

[Writer’s note: honestly I was just kind of fucking around this time. had this idea since far back and found it funny so now it's a full fic. don't take it too seriously, I'm just experimenting with different kinks here. finished it last minute like last time, sigh... now please feel free to leave some request for april fools because I genuinely want to write some crack, but nothing is coming to mind.]

[tuiccim]

Though I Have Never Read It (Part 7)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2985

Warnings: Angst, Family dynamics/drama, Discussion of controlling/abusive relationship.

A/N: Special thanks to my hype princess & beta reader @whisperlullaby.

Though I Have Never Read It Masterlist

Sitting in your car at the compound, you lean your head back against the seat and close your eyes. You take a few deep breaths and give yourself a mental pep talk before finally getting out. The butterflies in your stomach seem to increase with each step you take closer to Bucky's door. You were scared of what this conversation may bring. Would Bucky be angry? He hadn’t seemed so earlier. Would he think it meant something more than it did? 

You lift your hand to knock and stop short. Closing your eyes, you bite your lip and consider running. You could pack your things and be gone in a blink. You’d done it before. But before, there wasn’t Eva and no matter what happened, you couldn’t leave her. Besides, dealing with Bucky was nothing like what had driven you to Estonia. Your real fear here was your own feelings. So, before you could let that cowardice take hold, you allowed your hand to fall and rapped on his door. It opened more quickly than you expected and you took a step back. 

“Hi,” Bucky says, his face full of expectation and… fear? He looked like that lost, scared shell of a person that he had been when you first met him and it made you want to comfort him more than anything. 

“Hi. Is now good?” You ask softly. 

“Yes. Where, uh-” Bucky makes a vague gesture.

“Here is fine. Unless you’d rather go somewhere else,” you try to give him some room. 

“Are you sure you’d be comfortable in my room with me?” He can’t seem to quite meet your eye. 

“Are you comfortable with me being in your room?” you ask instead. 

“Uh, sure, sure. Come in,” he steps back to allow you entry. 

“Thanks,” you look around as you walk in and see mostly stark furniture with only a few personal touches. The one thing that is nearly full is his bookshelf. You let your eyes browse over the titles momentarily. A corner of your mouth quirks as you realize there was a little bit of geek in the quiet supersoldier but you smooth your expression when you turn back to him. He gestures towards the two chairs that flank the bookshelf and you take one. 

“How is Eva? …and Mark?” Bucky asks. 

“They’re great. She was happy to see her dad,” you chose your words with care to reinforce your earlier assertions of Eva’s paternity.

“Good, that’s good. How, uh, how are you?” Bucky fidgets with his hands. 

“I’m okay. I can see you’re as nervous about this conversation as I am,” you try to lighten the mood. 

Bucky cracks a small smile but still hasn’t looked you in the eye yet, “Yeah?”

“Bucky…” you wait for him to look up and when he finally does, you ask shakily, “Are you angry with me?”

“What?!” Bucky’s eyes widen in surprise. 

“You won’t even look at me.”

“No! No, I’m not angry with you. How could I be? You’re the one who should be angry with me. After what I did. I terrified you,” Bucky’s voice nearly breaks. 

“No, I mean, I was scared at first but you didn’t terrify me,” you assert. “Do you remember all of it? What do you remember?”

“I… God! I’m not even sure what I remember. I… did… did I-” Bucky groans in frustration and puts his head in his hands. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” you reassure him. When he looks at you a few moments later there is a tinge of red around his eyes that tears at your heart. “Why don’t I tell you what I remember? And then we can work out the details.”

“Please,” Bucky whispers. 

“I was living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere. No electricity, rainwater plumbing that was frozen half the time, a tiny kitchen, a bed, and an armchair to read in. It was 4 miles to the nearest neighbor and several more to the nearest town. One evening I was bringing in firewood. There was a snow storm coming in and I wanted to be sure there was enough in the house for the next day. I had just taken off my jacket and was about to relock the door when it flew open and you came through it. I was scared for a minute. I thought you were there to kill me but when I asked you, you simply said shelter. You were even less talkative then,“ you give him a smile to reassure him as his face still betrayed some torment. “What you did manage to tell me was that you were running away from something, too. So, I decided that being scared wasn’t going to change anything. I fed you some soup and whiskey to warm you up, convinced you to get out of the wet clothes you were in since you were shivering, and managed to get you to lay in the bed to rest. You looked so lost at times. While we ate, you were able to remember the name James so that’s what I called you. I settled into my chair to read and you asked me to read to you. I had been reading The-”

“Princess Bride,” Bucky interrupts. 

“Yeah,” you smile at him, “you remember that?”

“I, I overheard you reading it to Eva last night. It’s what triggered the memories. I think,” Bucky says. 

“I thought someone was there last night.”

“I’m sorry. I just heard you and stopped to listen for a minute.”

“It’s fine, Bucky. Anyway, I read to you for a while until I thought you had fallen asleep. When I tried to settle down in the armchair to sleep, you were trying to get out of the bed, grunting no at me. You had so many bruises and scars. I insisted you needed the bed more than I did. I touched your shoulder to stop you from getting out and you gasped. I thought I had hurt you but then you just looked at me and said please. So, I ran my hands through your hair and you calmed down. I sat on the side of the bed and kept doing it until I thought you fell asleep again but the moment I pulled my hand away, you were awake again. You asked me to stay, so I just got in the bed with you and kept running my hand through your hair until we were both asleep. The next morning, um…” you falter, unsure how to explain the next part. Embarrassment and fear wrapping together to still your tongue. 

“I hurt you,” Bucky says grimly. 

“No,” you stare at him, unsure if he meant because of the blood or something else. “No, you didn’t hurt me, James, Bucky,” you shake your head at your own confusion. 

“Don’t. Don’t spare me. Tell me the truth. I remember. I remember forcing myself on you,” Bucky stands up to pace, clearly torturing himself. 

“Bucky,” you start but he cuts you off. 

“Tell me the truth. Please,” he says while pacing, staring at the floor. 

You get up and stand in his path. Grabbing handfuls of his shirt, you force him to look at you, “You didn’t force me,” you say vehemently. Leaving any of your own feelings in the dust, you barrel forward with only the thought of giving him the reassurance and comfort he desperately needed. “You didn’t force anything. I woke up and you were rubbing against me. Pure instinct, you were still asleep. As soon as you woke, you stopped and stared at me with the most terrified expression. I pulled you closer. I pressed myself against you. And then you kissed me and it was intense and I wanted it. You whispered please and I knew what you wanted. I knew what you were asking for,” you pull him closer to you as you speak, ensuring he is hanging on your every word, “I pushed my pants down and you helped me get them lower. You didn’t. You didn’t force me. You didn’t force anything. You were soft and slow and gentle with me. I wanted that. I wanted you.”

“But… the blood?” Bucky asks incredulously. “Were you a virgin?”

“Ye-yeah. It was my first time but that doesn’t change how I feel about it. I wanted you,” you say sincerely. You stared up at him as you emphasized the words of reassurance. Your heart was beating wildly and with your hands curled in his shirt, you could feel his was too. Your faces were so close and you felt a yearning that frightened you.

“But I took that from you,” Bucky looks at you sadly. 

You scoff, you can’t help yourself. Letting go of him, you walk back to the chair and sit, relieved he had given you the perfect out to separate yourself from him physically. Sighing deeply, you shake your head, “No, Buck. The 1940s called, they want their misogyny back. If anything, I gave it. It wasn’t anything special and, truthfully, I was glad to be rid of it. It doesn’t matter. You didn’t hurt me. Understand?”

“Yeah,” Bucky sits looking calmer, “What happened after that?”

“I was going to start breakfast when you heard something. You told me to get in the bathroom and stay there. You said, um, you said thank you. It was quiet for a few minutes and then it sounded like a tornado came through. Smashing and glass shattering and then smoke. The cabin was set on fire and you were gone.”

“They found me. I…” Bucky looks away as if things are falling into place in his mind, “I was commanded to destroy the cabin. I told them no one was there, that I’d gotten lost in the storm. It was the only way I could keep you safe. I had to make them think no one was there. I tried to make sure you could get out, that the fire stayed far enough away to let you get out of the kitchen window.”

“That’s exactly how I got out,” you say. 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says.

“For making sure I could escape?” You raise an eyebrow playfully. 

“For ruining your life there.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. It wasn’t much of a life. It forced me to come back here. To face up to my problems. It wasn’t easy but I’m glad. If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have been here to see Eva born or have that time with her mom. I’m grateful for that night. I don’t have any regrets about it,” you smile while trying to gauge his feelings. 

“Why were you in Estonia?” Bucky asks the question you weren’t sure you wanted to answer. 

“It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got all night, doll.”

“I’m not kidding. It’s complicated,” You demure, unsure you wanted to share that much. Then again, maybe you should. Maybe there should be one person here who knows the whole story and it seemed right that it would be Bucky. After all, he was a part of it. 

“It’s up to you. I’d like to know but only if you want to tell it,” Bucky tilts his head as he looks at you. 

“Settle in,” you laugh lightly as you reposition yourself in the chair. “My dad was a businessman. He owned a mid-size company that was contracted by Stark Industries. My,” you sigh deeply before continuing flatly, “mother had some connections and helped him get in with Obadiah Stane. He was the CFO of Stark.”

“I've heard of him,” Bucky nods.

“She kept close tabs on business dealings and even closer tabs on me. She insisted I become a woman of high society. She wanted me to be a social climber, like her. It wasn’t me but I went along with it to make her happy. My father died suddenly when I was in college, the company was thrown into chaos and my mother begged Stane for his help. He agreed but insisted on controlling interest in the company. It was around this time that they started an affair, I think. Suddenly, Stane and his son, Zeke, were coming around often. Zeke was a few years older than me and he paid a lot of attention to me. At first, I was flattered. My mother started throwing us together as much as she could but then he started getting possessive. He acted like I was a belonging rather than a person. He started policing my clothes, my phone, my friends, everything. He was not happy that I was getting a degree in mechanical engineering. He said it was a man’s field but he knew it was one of my dad’s last wishes that I finish college. He was downright pissed, as was my mother, when I told them I’d been accepted into the Master’s program. That’s when Zeke finally threw in my mother’s face that he was done waiting for his part of the bargain. Apparently, she had struck a deal with Obadiah for me to marry Zeke in exchange for some other business dealings. I never really understood all of it but he lost his shit and started insisting that he was done waiting, the deal was for me to finish my degree and then he’d own me. That’s the word he used, 'own'.”

“Your mother sold you?” Bucky asks in shock, realizing now why you had given her such a cold reception on the phone call he had overheard. 

Your eyebrows lift in realization of the accuracy of the wording, “Yeah. She sold me. Zeke, he, uh, knew I was a virgin and he wanted me. He wanted to have that. He wanted complete ownership over me. I was terrified of him. I hated who I was with him. I was weak and scared. I cowered under him. He had nearly complete control of me. They started planning the wedding. It had to be a grand event. A status symbol. God, I hated it. I hated everything. I hated myself. I hated who I had become. It was my best friend that came up with the plan to get me out. She had watched my light go out and she couldn’t stand it. She convinced me to escape and with the help of a few other friends, I did. I left to go to a dentist appointment with a small purse and the clothes on my back. Thirty-six hours later, I was in a tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere. I was free. And I was so happy… for a while.” You look away reliving the joy and sadness of that time for a moment.

“A while?” Bucky prompts. 

“The loneliness started to get to me. I wanted a life. A real one. I was trapped the same in that cabin as I had been under my mother’s thumb. Living in constant fear of being found. Then you showed up. You were my catalyst. You forced me to go back and face it all. I met Tony and Pepper and Happy. We found out the Stane’s were doing a lot more shady dealing than anyone ever imagined. When I confronted Zeke, he went insane. He, uh, he tried to kill me. Zeke had built himself a suit similar to Tony’s. Luckily, Happy was there and managed to keep Zeke at bay until Tony showed up.”

“Tell me he’s dead,” Bucky growls.

“He’s… incapacitated. That’s what drove me to Estonia,” you pause for a moment, realizing you had to ask Bucky, “Did you tell anyone that we were in Estonia?”

“I told Steve and Sam about meeting you,” Bucky looks at you with furrowed brows. 

“But did you tell them it was in Estonia?” You question. 

“No. Why?”

“I need you to keep that part just between us. If anyone, like my mother, ever found out I was there, they’d know exactly who helped me. It could jeopardize their livelihood, their business, their life. Please-”

“I give you my word, doll. It stays between us,” Bucky promises. 

“Thank you. Anyway, I came back here. Tony got me back in the Master’s program, gave me a job, and… you’re all caught up now,” you let out a little laugh. 

Bucky studies you for a moment before asking, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“At first, I was waiting to see if you remembered me. I knew you’d been through the brain blender a few times so I was gonna let you take the lead. Then, I don’t know, I didn’t want to bring you any pain. I thought maybe you wouldn’t want to go back there. When I thought about telling you, it was for it to be easier on me and I didn’t want to be selfish in that way. I thought maybe it was better to protect you,” you explain. 

“You don’t need to protect me, doll. That was the best night I had had in those years. Thank you for that,” Bucky smiles and you can see the emotions in his eyes.

“You’re welcome. Well, um, it’s getting late,” you say lamely. A tension had formed in the air and it was unnerving you. You found yourself wanting to fling yourself into Bucky’s arms, wanting to find that release he had once provided. You stand swiftly, reminding yourself that one night didn’t mean anything. At least, not romantically. It was just two people seeking comfort in each other. Survivors finding solace together and you couldn’t get wrapped up in it. Because, the truth was, you wanted to fall for the man in front of you and you didn’t trust yourself to. “Good night, Bucky,” you say as you cross to the door. 

“Uh, night, doll. Sleep well,” Bucky says quickly. 

“You, too,” you say as you exit. You flee to your room, knowing that sleep wouldn’t come any time soon. 

Part 8

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[rshmra]

PRETTY BOY!

plot: niki swears he met the girl of his dreams at the convenience store late one night- however, his discovery proves to be misguided. the "girl" he likes is actually just a really pretty boy, and he's the main vocalist of the new and wildly popular boy group of four, X_CAPE.

<- prev. masterlist. next. ->

(written: 2.5k words)

chapter eight: the big meat

"remind me why i agreed to this, again."

jungwon pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling a sigh of exhaustion as the other members pile into the elevator. the space is cramped, but the atmosphere is buzzing with excitement, the boys all hyped to meet the newer group after a spontaneous decision (unanimously agreed upon, albeit with some hesitance from jungwon due to actually having a sense of responsibility).

"'cus they're fun, you'll love them, don't wor- jake stop FUCKING jumping." sunoo cuts the australian a glare, who scratches his head "innocently" and glances at the ceiling.

"that was heeseung."

"excuse me?" the two start to bicker, and jay looks utterly annoyed to be right next to both. normally, riki would be further instigating the tiff, but he's too busy typing away at his phone with a stifled smile.

sunghoon is quick to notice the odd behavior, and nudges the younger with a smirk. "can't even stay away for 5 minutes, huh?" the ramyeonz immediately stop quarreling at this, sharing shit-eating grins as jake falls into heeseung's arms.

"how i love you so, oh yn..." jake throws a hand over his forehead, summoning every last bit of melodrama he can possibly muster. "i'll always be your loverboy, i can't imagine what life would be like without you-"

"ha ha hee hee ha ha." riki mocks him with a scowl, but the damage is already done- the scene they've caused is enough to send the rest into a fit of giggles. "you think you're so fucking funny-"

"woah woah!" now heeseung has the audacity to act like he's done nothing wrong, much to riki's irritation. "no need to get aggressive!"

sunoo rolls his eyes lightly, slightly squished in the corner of the elevator. "pipe down loverboy." this sets jay off into a series of choked guffaws, which causes a chain reaction resulting in everyone else on the ground in hysterics. an embarrassed ni-ki is grateful when the doors finally open to let him out, only for him to realize that-

"dumbasses! we're on the wrong floor!"

"yeah cause i punched a random number in." sunghoon chokes out after somewhat regaining his composure. "how was i supposed to know what floor they're on?"

"oh i don't know, maybe ask?"

"then lead the way, loverboy."

"stop CALLING me that-"

"it's been 10 minutes."

"well what did you expect? that's seven boys who can't even agree on what time it is, did you think they'd actually make it in four minutes?" yn snorts incredulously at chaeri's pouting.

"yeah, but sunghoon still said so!"

"oh jeez," ivory laughs. "you'll really believe anything, huh? how long did you think santa claus was real for?"

silence.

"santa... isn't real?" the maknae's tone is hesitant and hushed, disbelief seeping in.

"ivy, what did you do." kuli mutters to their now-panicking leader, not knowing how to help a tearing chae.

"i didn't- i didn't knOW!-"

"WE'RE HERE!"

it all happens at once. ivory's voice cracks eight octaves higher than normal, yn unleashes a mad cackle, and the doors burst open a little too fast, and the members of enhypen topple like dominos onto the floorboards. for a moment, all is quiet.

"SANTA ISN'T REAL!" then chae damn near sobs, and yn loses his shit.

jungwon blinks, torn between either collapsing into peals of hyena laughter or feeling bad for the inconsolable viper. "...based solely on this series of events i'm gonna assume that's chaeri-" -he points to the crumpled 5'10 form wallowing in his own tears- "-he's ivory-" -indicating the giant tomato with a mop of white blonde hair hiding in the corner- "-you're kuli-" -the short rapper waves, apparently the only one composed enough to greet the group properly. "-and..."

yn clambers to his feet feebly, panting from the effort after cackling so hard. hunched and clutching tight to his ribs, he gives them a weak smile. "i'm yn."

and suddenly they understand riki's complete and utter infatuation (that he frequently denies) with this boy.

his face just has that effect to it, so effortlessly easy on the eyes. almost too pleasing to stare at, which is exactly what they're doing. from his perfectly-styled hair all the way to his air max shoes, there's no doubt about it; he's beautiful. the way sunoo had described him made the others think he was exaggerating, but now he's got a hand over his mouth and snickering to himself at the sheer amount of jaws dropled from shock.

proven right once again.

jake is the first to shake from his awe-induced stupor, managing to raise a shaky hand. "we're enhypen."

"acthually, we're tomorrow eckth together- no shit we're enhypen!" riki sneers.

"jungwon, jay, sunoo, sunghoon, riki, jake, heeseung." kuli names off each member correctly, pointing to which is which once they're all upright. when they turn to him in surprise, he shrugs. "it wasn't a guess, i made sure to google it beforehand."

"riki!" X_CAPE's vocalist straightens haphazardly, lighting up into a beam. he makes a beeline for the dancer, who thinks he might be going in for a hug before he gets sucker-punched in the stomach (not too roughly though).

"OW?" he nearly folds in half, holding his gut with a wheeze. "what the hell was that for?!"

"for when you took 12 hours to respond after saying you'd be 5 seconds. sorry!" he doesn't feel sorry, but nevertheless wraps his friend in a playful side-embrace. "plus, that's the only way i can see you at eye-level."

"or i could bend down to your height?"

"are you insinuating that i'm short?"

"yes."

"fuck off, i'm five foot eight."

the others are watching this procession as if it's a tennis match, a mingling mix of amusement, bewilderment, curiosity and disgust present in their expressions. "get a room," chae sniffles at last, still lying facedown. all it takes is a simple mutter of "santa" from cyren and the waterworks have returned.

"now why would you say that."

"hey, he had it coming."

fast-forward ten minutes and there are currently three conversations being had. jungwon, jay, ivory and kuli are engaged in rivited discussion by the mirror while yn, sunghoon, sunoo, heeseung and jake are in their own little world, talking about whatever comes to mind. riki was initially part of this, but was unexpectedly tugged away by viper with the excuse of "let's talk dance!"

"feeling any better?" ni-ki deadpans, recalling the little claus incident just a short while back.

chae's nearly ever-present grin doesn't falter. "i try not to think about it. don't remind me."

"we're not really gonna talk dancing, are we?"

"you're a clever one! yeah, that was the best thing i could think of. to get you alone so i could, like, ask you some questions." said grin seems to morph into something a bit more menacing before disappearing altogether. "sunoo tells me you're a good guy."

"oh." riki isn't quite sure how to respond to this. feeling a little off-put, he shoves his hands into his pockets. "thanks?"

"so i'm chill with that. i'm cool with you, too, and whatever's going on with yn, but i wanna feel like i can trust you first." he heaves a sigh, grimacing. "i don't want anything to happen to him again, y'know?"

riki frowns. "what's that supposed to mean?"

viper's eyebrows furrow, before shooting upwards at rapid speeds. "oh shit." it hadn't occurred to him, but he's regretting saying anything because riki didn't fucking know yet. but he's curious now, and maybe a little worried.

"chaeri-"

"whatcha talkin' about?" he's hyperaware of heeseung and jake sidling up to him, being the nosy twats they are. the outburst catches the attention of the others, who quickly move to gather around and in no time have formed a large circle.

"oh, i was begging for details from him! since yn barely told us anything i wanted the whole story, starting from the beginning." chaeri puts on a pretty convincing act, but it's unclear whether yn buys it or not. his eyes narrow, and he gives ni-ki a probing once-over and glimpses suspiciously at chae.

"i did tell you everything though?"

"but i wanna hear both sides!" yn purses his lips, ultimately deciding to drop the subject, nonetheless brightening after remembering the ordeal.

"it's not this huge thing, honestly. we just ran into each other at the CU like, what... a month ago or something like that?"

"yeah." it's not a revolutionary occurrence for riki to zone out and get transfixed while staring at yn, but it's different this time. he seems concerned, jaw tense and fingers drumming against his knee. what chaeri said earlier has him on edge, but he doesn't want to pry so not to be disrespectful. if yn didn't tell him, it probably isn't his business.

cyren notices this and wiggles his fingers at him, but it gains no reaction. he claps, still to no avail. "this happens a lot, watch this." he reassures everyone, and with a sing-song voice and mischeivous grin he resorts to calling, "oh kiki!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP."

immediately they're all in stitches, save for riki again, who simply flips him off with both hands. the room echos with croons of "kiki!" "kiki!" and the boy can't help but crack a smile. the worry becomes an afterthought, there to stay at the back of his mind. for now, he'll remain in the moment, where he's happy. yn's happy. everyone's happy, and everything's fine.

the two groups trade stories for a while longer, poking fun and goofing off. when it comes time for the seven to leave, it's important that they all take several pictures together, a memory of their first big meet.

notes: did you catch the sturniolo ref 🙈 sunoo is nick coded you literally cant tell me otherwise. im officially out of school so hopefully updates will pick up, but i had to rewrite this all from scratch today 💀 compared to what i usually write, this is a MONSTER chapter. also drama perhaps ??

@silkentides @nikikids @totoroblop @winter-world @phantom-butterfly @simsoobean @byu @noredplz @sh0uj0-r3i @onementally-unstabel-kid @thepeachyhub @enhypen-reblog @ao5riki @bearseulgs @le0-0nidas @gothhyucks

bold can't be tagged!

[durrtydawg]

can i just say how thankful i am that you are keeping us samuel sluts WELL FED LATELY!!

And can i also please request something, anything angsty :3 i literally do not care what happens I'm just excited to see what you can provide 🥵

Thank you, kind anon. My heart is full of love from you and everyone else in my inbox (what the hell where did you all come from???) I hope this meets your expectations. It definitely made my chest tighten. Didn't specify a gender here- hope that's okay! would love to hear your thoughts bc this isn't the usual from me. big love <3

[Masterlist]

WOUNDED- Sam drake x Reader {angst one-shot}

CW: Injury, blood | 1.3k Words | Gif is absolutely unrelated I just think he's neat <3

“You’re….we can’t go back in there.” You hunch, dumfounded, pointing towards the entrance of the mid-collapsing crypt you’d just somehow fought your way out of. You clutch the bleeding gash on your upper arm, coughing as dust continues to settle around you.

The cough sparks a pain in your torso, drawing your attention to a bloodied score in your shirt.

“We can, and we will.” Sam grumbles, teeth gritted as he removes his plaid over-shirt, knuckles coated in a thick layer of crimson.

“Come on, Sam,” you urge, raspy and desperate, chin trembling. “We should get out while we still-”

“And then what?!” He snarls in your direction. You step back in trepidation, eyes glossing over as he waits for an answer. His eyes burn into yours, and you don’t know whether to chastise yourself for being such a coward, or scream some sense into him. His newfound aggression, however, pulls you away from the latter.

Never had a job gone so horrendously wrong at the last hurdle. Months of planning and physical toil, rotted down into a husk of nothing but severe injury and anger in mere minutes.

Sam scoffs at your silence, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt. The fragmented tearing of the fabric only makes you shrink further away from him.

You gnaw at your bottom lip, attempting to forego tears that threaten to spill, but the sudden sting from a freshly punched split has your cheeks dampen anyway. You wince, limping over to the wall to catch your breath and try to calm down. 

Sliding unsteadily down the wall, you land with a thud, boots forcing another cloud of dust to roll over the ground as gravel gets scuffed aside by your heel. 

The pain in your torso intensifies, and you shakily peel the torn fabric of your shirt away from your skin. It’s not good.

You watch through watery vision as Sam wraps scraps of his shirt around his bleeding knuckles, his expression stiff and unmoving from his indignant glare. His grey t-shirt clings to his torso, with help from sweat and blood that steadily grows more and more stagnant from time and exertion. His jaw is clenched so frighteningly tense that you swear you feel your own teeth ache, and oh, the anger in his eyes is horrible. You’ve never seen him so enraged- so…intoxicated by his own determination to succeed, to the point where he doesn’t seem to care whether or not you bleed out in front of him.

Does he care? Has he even noticed the extent of your injuries? You wince as the rise and fall of your chest repeatedly pushes and pulls soiled fabric from the laceration on your side. With reluctance, you press your palm against it, squeezing sore, cracked fingers around the expanding red stain on your t-shirt, and you hiss, unintentionally catching his glare.

He takes in your appearance, and it’s hard to tell if he’s more angry at you or himself. Then, he looks away. 

He fucking looks away, and you feel sick. You squeeze your eyes shut after taking an anxious glance towards your fingers. The small spaces between each are thickly oozing crimson that’d be so beautiful if it were any substance other than your own blood. God. No- you didn’t think it was this bad. 

“It’s just a graze”, you whisper to yourself. Just a graze. Your chin quivers. He’ll come around.

“Shouldn’t’a brought you.” What? Your eyes snap open in disbelief. “I shouldn’t…” You shake your head at the venomous grumble he mutters from across the room. Through a haze, you watch him smack blood and dirt-encrusted hands over pockets in search for more ammunition that you both know doesn’t exist. He grunts, loud, angry, before kicking the stone. 

You shrink back further into the wall out of a fear that you’ve never felt around Sam before, stifling a yelp of pain as your wound twists painfully under your hand.

He covers his mouth with his palm, nostrils flaring as his eyes squeeze shut- an attempt at suppressing his outburst to give way for some capacity to think. You watch on apprehensively, head throbbing as he turns back towards the crypt entrance you’ve only just managed to scramble away from, scathed, exhausted, and possibly on the brink of passing out all together. His brows shift from a tightened rage into a conflicted indecisiveness that makes your mouth go tight and dry.

It’s purgatory that you can’t afford right now.

“Sam.” You croak, trying to adjust your uncomfortable posture. “I…I can’t.”

Your lungs are suddenly under a painful pressure that you can’t shift. What would happen if he makes you go back in? Sam storming off ahead, blind-firing into mercenaries far more prepared for battle than the pair of you could ever hope to be, as you lamely hobble behind, becoming more and more lightheaded by the second. 

Your chest tightens more as you imagine him looking back at you as he ducks down behind a precariously structured pile of rubble to reload his pistol, with nothing but disappointment- no, scrap that- disgust in his eyesas you fail to keep up with him. 

You’d plead from a small but dangerous distance, crying out for him to help you get back to your feet after your inevitable fall; blood loss rendering your legs into useless jelly, bullet and stab wounds too sore to pick yourself back up again. The pain you’d feel as he mutters something towards you one last time before taking off into the gunfire smoke subduing your peripheral.

No. No! He’d never leave you behind. No matter how desperate he is to prove his worth again. No. Not your Sam. He’ll come around.

You pant through parted lips, damning your panic attack back to the confines of your stomach.

“We’re…gonna die if we go back in there.” You murmur, resting your head back against the stone wall, eyes squeezed shut as if to try and shut out the incessant pain pulsating around your body.

“Don’t be ridiculous-”

“I want to go home. Before I can’t.” You spit, causing Sam to glare in your direction. He stands slowly, taking in your weakened form. He’s trying to uphold his expression of anger, but a brief softness in his eyes fails him. You feebly grab at the wall behind you, dragging yourself halfway upright, stopping to hiss in pain. You’re lightheaded.

You collapse back onto the ground, and you feel your energy dwindle even faster.

Had you actually felt your own mortality bite at your heels this harshly before?

God, your heart is pounding, the sound beginning to echo around your head, taunting you with your own failure. Your own weakness.

He stares at you for a moment. Eventually, his eyes soften even more. 

Your brows arch slightly in hope.

Crouching in front of you, he grabs a hold of your head, taking you in for a moment before placing a soft kiss onto the bridge of your nose that twists deep into your guts more than any enemy blade ever could.

He pulls his lips away, hands still holding the sides of your face as the weight of your eyelids becomes another burden you’re trying hard to fight against. You watch his eyes flit between every feature on you, a watery glaze of his own forming as your brows twitch in defeated disbelief, and a distraught understanding, your hands growing ever wetter from your own blood.

He looks away again. Back to the tight space you just escaped from. You begin to shake your head with whatever strength you can muster.

You know what he’s about to do, and you try to pull together the will to push yourself up, but you can’t. Your body is tired. Drained.

“No.” You whisper, voice strained by the silent sob bubbling up your throat.

“I’m sorry.”

He never apologises. He never ever apologises.

You want to kick, and scream, and beg, but your mouth is tight and your lips won’t let you form words anymore.

“I… have to see this through.” He whispers. Any louder and you’ll hear that he’s crying too.

Then Sam stands, turns from you, wipes his eyes, and walks.

Knowing that you’ve both seen each other’s faces for the last time is more painful than the feeling of your life draining from you.

[saltofmercury]

Secrets

Pairing: Soap x f!reader

Author's note: a little bit of angst with Johnny, remember he's loyal to his job before anything else.

"Secrets"

Things with Johnny had been going good. He had come back into your life, settled in there and was attempting to make it permanent. Waking up to his pout, him coming to your work to drop off lunch, lingering by the entrance of your office as he kissed you goodbye, small attempts to remind you he was here.

Johnny had enjoyed it too. He liked waiting for you to come home, make dinner for you, and watch you be you. He enjoyed planning the weekend, taking trips together, being snuggled on the couch with you and your many blankets and decorative pillows all over.

It was a small bubble you two had formed, willing to step on eggshells around one another as not pop it.

Things were going great—

—But there was the lingering tension between you two. As much as you wanted to ignore it and continue being with one another…There had always been this string of commotion between you, the chaos of his world, his reputation that he never talked about with you. You were both at fault, not wanting to crack the safe cocoon of domestic bliss you had been creating with one another.

So when it came to him leaving so suddenly, you cracked the bubble between you two.

“I don’t want you to go.” You had said one morning watching him take the duffle bag out of your closet.

“Dinnae say that to me, yeah? This is my job.”

“This is my job” a bit of “Soap” had come out when he spoke to you. Cold, heartless, and prideful.

It was childish but you pushed harder, for some hope of information.

“How long?”

“Not sure hen, but I’m positive for at least three months.”

Three months.

“Are you going to keep in contact with me?”

He had turned to you, seeing how hurt you were. You were met with his cold gaze, that had softened a bit. Johnny never expected to get hooked on someone so fast. He never expected someone other than his family to worry about him.

“You know I can’t pet,” he said, he had to keep a distance with his home life and work life.

“Johnny” didn’t exist out there, “Soap” did. And you knew nothing about Soap.

“This is unfucking stupid!” You had pulled your hair from your head and went to your living room leaving him alone to pack. In about four days he would be gone, no communication or trace of him for three months.

You put your show on, trying to distract yourself. Mentally repeating to yourself that you would not cry about this. Over a man who didn’t want to open up to you emotionally or be honest with you.

About two episodes in, he had come out, leaning against the wall, staring at you.

Flashbacks of talking to Gaz had flooded his brain. The things he told him after a mission, Gaz had mumbled about,

“You’re falling in love.”

He had brushed off Gaz’s comment. Laughing at him for being so stupid, but also for calling it how it is. How on the nose he was. Gaz was probably one of the only ones on the team who could read through Soap’s bullshit.

Johnny spoke softly, willing to negotiate with you.

"This is all new to me, I'm sorry."

You still didn’t turn, hurt that he wouldn’t open up about his job.

“Come on hen…” he walked over to where you were.

“Cannae have you poking around my job, it’s serious.”

You looked over at him, taken back that he would assume you wanted such a thing.

“All I’m asking for is a phone call, an email would suffice Johnny.”

He felt it in his stomach, he felt it in his heart, but he could not give that to you. Not after Ghost’s past.

“I’ll let you drop me off hen. But you’d got to give me time.”

He was serious again, the base would surely be safe enough for you to know about it, but he could not let anything happen to you because of his job.

It was a small small start.

*

Four days later it was quiet in the car. The navigation of your phone adding to the dull atmosphere that had settled between you two.

Johnny had been staring out the passenger window, with no attempt to hold your hand or to talk to you. He was nervous. Was it in the best interest even having you know where his base was? It was a different country, but people lurked everywhere. Paranoia had swarmed his thoughts.

He asked you to park further away to where people were actually dropping off family members and friends.

You followed his orders, kind of surprised that his side of him was coming out.

He got out first before you could turn the car off. He had stomped over to the driver's side, opening the door and enveloping you with his hands.

His mouth had found yours, feverishly and hungrily opened it. He had held your face with his hands, tucked it under your hair, and caressed the other side of your face.

“Come on, get out.”

You got out of the car, and he proceeded to kiss you even more, pushing you against the car to show you how much at this moment he had regret not saying goodbye properly last night for not being honest, not being more open about his job, and leaving you behind.

He had pulled away from the kiss, his lips lingering on yours, his hand rubbing your chin.

“You know I’m sorry right?” He whispered. You nodded silently.

“This is as far as you can come.”

He looked down at your eyes, placing soft kisses on your lips.

“I think I love you, hen and I’m sorry.”

He didn’t let you speak, he didn’t really care if you said it back right now. He grabbed his bag from the backseat and walked up to the base, not looking back.

*

You had been out with friends grabbing a coffee. You watched the milk swirl into your second cup, trying to focus on the conversation. You excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

Your phone rang in your bag from an unknown number. You didn’t have the chance to answer it or wonder who it was, due to a blocked number.

*

Johnny grabbed the hour of leisure to lock himself up in his office. He grabbed the phone he had been supplied, blocking his number so that you wouldn’t be tempted to call or text the phone number. He entered your phone number memorized in his head, then hesitated pressing the call button.

It rang and rang, no answer. Your voicemail had greeted him;

“sorry I can’t come to the phone, but leave a name and number and I can call you right back! Byeeeeee!”

He smiled at your voicemail, realizing he’s never heard it before.

“Hiya pet. It’s me, but you won’t be able to call me back. Thought I’d surprise ya, but guess I got ya at the wrong time. Miss and love you, see ya in about a month.”

He drummed his fingers on the desk, then decided against trying you again. He deleted the number from its history and locked the phone up in the desk. He had about a month left and everything was going bad. Everything was being resorted to plan B, C, and D. He just hoped that for one hour of his job he could hear about you for a change.

He dragged himself up again, ready to finish the mission.

*

The month passed by and you had filled your car with balloons you had blown up yourself. You got the snacks he enjoyed, and filled a small cooler with the chocolate milk he drank. You had taken the initiative to go pick him up. You had just hoped that he would be arriving exactly a month after you had received the voicemail.

How annoyed you were with yourself for going to the bathroom to cry, when seconds before he could reach out to you. You swear it was like you two communicated through telepathy.

To your surprise, and true to his word, by the time you pulled up to the parking spot there were other people waiting as well.

Nerves struck your stomach and you began to fidget. You were crossing a boundary here.

You had waited about half an hour before you saw him, walking side by side with someone else.

The other man – had his height, a serious face, and curls on his head. The man had eyed you down, recognizing you, but didn’t say a word. He gently nudged Johnny, poking his head towards you. You had started to fidget with your knuckles.

Because at that moment, there was no relief to see you. You were embraced with confusion, like his brain had tried to piece together why you were here, and his face never dropped the confused look and it erupted into looking furious. He walked towards you.

“Why are you here?”

You had become disoriented, wounded by how he was speaking to you.

“Go in the car, i’ll be with you in about five minutes.”

He couldn’t believe what was happening. He needed to take a few minutes to calm down so that he didn't explode.

You couldn’t believe what was going on. Was the voicemail you had received for someone else? Did he not mean what he said? You got in the driver's seat and turned the car on, chewing on your lip to evade any tears piercing your eyes.

He had gotten into the car without a word. He didn’t even realize the small balloons everywhere, or the effort you had put into throwing small confetti in your car. Just stayed quiet, still in the passenger seat.

By the time you merged onto the freeway, you decide to take the first exit. You weren’t going to continue in silence.

Swerving into a pharmacy parking lot and setting the car in park, you turned to him,

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Do you just plan on ignoring me the entire ride? You could’ve easily taken the ride with your friend.”

He had continued watching outside the window, his mouth being bumped by his hand.

“Can you at least fucking look at me?”

He turned to you slowly, still serious as ever.

“Nobody asked ya to come get me.”

You were livid. You had been just playing house with this asshole a couple months ago.

“Look i’m sorry I crossed a boundary here, but I thought this meant I could come see you, you practically gave me the location!”

Soap kicked himself mentally for this. Yes, he did give the location to the military base he left from. But he never called you to come get him. He knew he was being an asshole but there was so much to him that he did not want to reveal, and Gaz being the first to see you was already strike one.

“Hen, if I didn’t give you permission to come get me, please don’t do it.” He grabbed your face, pleading with his eyes.

“Look, I know I was a proper bampot back there, but you can’t surprise me like this.”

“You know you’re such an asshole, you still climbed into the car with me knowing that — actually just forget it I’m sorry I even came.”

You were hurt. It seemed like he could do everything in the relationship except show any sort of emotional reciprocation towards you. He didn’t even give you a good explanation as to why.

You drove home in silence.

You had arrived back to your apartment, locking yourself in your room. Johnny had gone to take a shower. Tears that had been lingering for three months came out. You sobbed and cried into your pillow, upset that you had been given someone so special as Johnny, but clearly with no room to be available to you.

He had knocked on the door, before realizing it was locked. He unlocked it with some hair clip laying around, then came in.

“Can we please talk?”

“Don’t ignore me hen, come on” He creeped up behind you in bed, whispering i’m sorry to your neck and back, cradling you and hoping he didn’t fuck this up.

You turned to your side, feeling the regret of the decision you came up with.

“I don’t think I can be with you Johnny,”

There’s a sharp pain that drops in his stomach.

“Come on, don't say that.”

“I.. I don't think you want a relationship, because this isn’t what a relationship is.”

He stands up now, clenching one of his fists, because he’s stupid, he’s overreacted, he does want this.

“Hen, please, I –I'll give you more. We were on a mission in Africa and –”

“It’s not fair Johnny, it’s not even you ignoring me, but shoving me aside that’s not how it works.”

He had got down on his knees, grabbing your hands in his.

“I told you to give me some time hen, I don’t want you to …”

He had replayed several instances like this late at night wondering what you would think of him once he did tell you about his job. What he did.

“Can you just sleep on the couch tonight? I want some space.”

And Johnny obeyed, a dull pain surrounded his body because he was willing to spill the secrets he kept safe just to have you by his side.