#i have been back and forth on that in my own head for months and I've decided to do it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

caxasy · 1 day ago

Text

to do anything ; caleb x m.reader

cw: caleb is really stupid here, like genuinely really dumb and his reasoning for his actions don't make any sense, verbal harassment, caleb raises his voice a lot, very mean insults, manipulative behavior, guilt tripping, he's really confusing, he uses his evol on you, a lot of shouting - description of characters being scared/flinching due to the shouting, terribly written and open-ended ending, sorry guys i just really wanted to get this out to u all !!!

pairing: caleb x male reader, subtle (not so subtle) zayne x male reader

summary: growing up alongside lily, caleb, and zayne, you were always closest with caleb. that is, until you leave for university, come back, and everything has changed between you two in an almost irreversible way. the worst part is that you don't even know why.

wc: 21.5....this was that one request that i said would be done in two weeks (it took me more like a month and a week...im sorry)

notes: proofread, but please if there are mistakes have mercy on me, this was an absolute beast to read through and took me multiple sessions to read through it asdjhadjkahsda

you moved through the kitchen with ease, everything around you working in harmony and organization. the timing of each dish you were preparing was natural at this point, a practiced execution of the meal you were making. your soft humming was the only sound in the kitchen, besides the sound of meat sizzling.

just as you were reaching into the tupperware cabinet, you felt arms wrap around your waist in a hug. recognizing the tight, but gentle hold, you patted her forearms at your stomach and smiled, “good morning, lily, you’re up early,” she only squeals in excitement behind, squeezing you tighter.

“how could i sleep when i could smell breakfast from the other side of the house? it’s my favorite!” she used her entire body’s weight to rock you two back and forth where you stood, but it was more so lightly swaying due to the size and weight difference.

“i know,” you mused, moving so that your arm was thrown over her shoulder as you brought her to your side, rather than behind, “you’ve been working hard lately, i wanted to give you some special princess treatment,”

she smiles and coos at your words, pinching your cheek, “you’re the best oppa ever! this is so thoughtful,”

you smile softly at her praise, petting her hair down, “i’ll bring you the food, just wait at the table, m’kay?” she nods in understanding. on her way to her seat, she snaps a picture of the stove, which had the delicious food in all of its glory. undoubtedly she was going to post it on her story later to brag about how spoiled she was with you, most probably tagging you as well.

it didn’t take for the breakfast to finish cooking and, as promised, lily was served a platter of food thoughtfully arranged, “caleb didn’t come down yet?”

she shakes her head, grabbing her phone and taking more photos for her own safekeeping, “nope! i think he was up late, might want to be sleeping in,”

you glance at the clock, frowning, “alright, i’ll wake him up in ten minutes. he’s also been working so hard,” the frown only deepens, “what do you say me and you cook him up his favorite dinner sometime this week?” she brightens at the idea, grabbing her utensils with an excited look on her face.

“just promise to make me extras when you do!” she takes a spoonful of the food and audibly moans at the delicious taste. she rocks back and forth in her seat in an adorable way of showing how the tasty the food was affecting her. you smile, glad that it was to her liking before going to clean up the kitchen.

just as you turned your back, caleb came down the stairs which gave him a clear view of the dining area.

“what’s this?” he asked, voice rough with sleep.

“oh, good morning caleb! oppa made me my favorite,” she immediately says, showing off her plate, which caleb grimaces at.

“he made it?”

“well, duh, that’s why there’s such a mess in the kitchen,” she jokes, obviously exaggerating. but caleb didn't crack a smile.

“i could've made you some, pips,” he murmurs, ruffling her hair, “next time wake me up, i’ll make it for you instead of him,”

she pouts at his comment, not liking his tone, “heyyy, [name] made it really good though! try it!”

“no thanks,” his response is brief and he walks over to the fridge.

“caleb, have some,” you invite, grabbing a plate for him and going to prepare his food. but you stop when you hear a quick “don’t bother,” from him. he didn't even greet you a ‘good morning’ and was already giving you a snappy attitude.

you sighed, assuming it was the high stress of school and lack of sleep, so you didn't say anything. instead, you smiled and nodded (even though his back was turned to you), “well, do you want to get lunch together in between your classes? i can treat.”

you didn't want his only source of energy to be from the protein shake he was drinking now.

“pips, are you free for lunch today?” caleb asks after briefly looking at you, then focussing on her.

“i am, which is perfect! we can all-”

“i’ll wait for you outside of your class then,” caleb smiles as he walks out of the kitchen, not sparing you a glance or another word.

lily sensing his odd behavior frowns and reasons, “it might just be because of school, sorry he’s being so rude…will you join us for lunch still?”

“i don't think i can, actually. i might head in early at work,” you smile weakly, “it's fine though! take my card and it’ll still be my treat,” you go to get your wallet, but she’s stopping you with a glare.

“hey, you don't have to just give up your wallet for us. caleb or i can pay,” her tone is stern, not wanting to just rob you of your money, especially when you weren't coming. but you gently loosened her grip on you.

“no, it's okay, i want to still treat you,” and ignoring her weak protests, you hand her your card. “please? it’ll make me feel better knowing i was able to help him got some good food in his system,”

she sighs, taking your card reluctantly and standing up to hug you, “you should come,”

“it’s fine, really. i’m a little short on my usual hours next week, so going in earlier will help balance that out! trust me, that was my original plan anyway,” she doesn't seem to believe you but she doesn't press you further for answers.

“get to work safe, i’m gonna get ready now,” her tone and expression looking as if she is warning you, instead of simply telling you, which you weakly smile in response to.

“you too, see you later!”

when her back turns to you, the smile on your face slowly dims. thinking of the entire interaction with caleb you groan and run your hand through your hair. dealing with caleb lately has been frustrating and it’s been hard to ignore each interaction.

you were thinking of asking him about what was wrong, what this long lasting hostility was about, but decided against it. whatever this was would just hopefully pass. and as much as you cared about caleb, there were bills to be paid and a lot of other things to worry about. those things you worry about related to taking care of them as well, so you had to prioritize it.

you’re spinnin' me around

my feet are off the ground

i don't know where I stand

“[name] i’m glad you’re here,” zayne’s smooth voice is the first thing to greet you after you punch in. he seems to notice the tired smile on your face, a slight shift in his expression only noticeable because of how close you two were standing to each other. you’d say it was in between his trademark stoic expression and small frown, “have you been getting good sleep? you look tired,”

you attempt a smile, but it must obviously not reach your face, “i’m alright, just,” you shrug your shoulders, trying to avoid actually answering and he grants you that, nodding as if he understands.

“well, stick with me tonight and i’ll try being mindful of not putting so much stress on you,” his offer is tempting, but you don’t want to be a burden to him, especially in the work environment.

“i’ll be fine, zayne, thank you for worrying about me, but work is work,”

he smiles softly, “i can’t allow my favorite scribe to get overwhelmed or else everything might end up crumbling down into chaos,” you can’t tell if its a dry humor joke, but it does get a smile out of you. “let’s get to work, [name],”

“yes, doctor zayne,” you call out to him, mimicking a salute that earns a chuckle of amusement from the usually stoic man.

being friends with lily and caleb since childhood also meant that you were somewhat acquainted with zayne. he was more so closer to lily, but he was always kind and polite to you. you learned his stoic, but also shy, attitude was simply his personality and, although a bit off putting at the start, due to how different his behavior was in comparison to lily and caleb’s, you found it to be somewhat comforting.

you could always count on zayne to be honest with you as well as a good-objective advice giver. you’re sure if you told him about your troubles with caleb, he’d actually offer some good advice. realizing that you were thinking of the handsome man with purple eyes, you physically shook your head. this caught zayne’s attention and he tilted his head in question, “is something bothering you?”

“no, no, it’s nothing, sorry.” you apologize, but he just shakes his head.

“you don’t have to apologize, there’s nothing to be sorry about,” he says it as if its obvious. his nonchalant demeanor is unintentionally easing your worries, making your face heat up — for reasons unknown to you. “just make sure to focus up when we get out there,”

“of course,” you say in confidence, pushing the worries you had about caleb to the back of your mind.

“i know i can rely on you, so rely on me too, okay?”

his surprisingly heartfelt words make you admire him for a second longer before nodding, “i will,”

for the rest of that gruelling shift (13 hours), you two are working in harmony with each other. sometimes he’d be pulled away in urgent cases, but for the most part the two of you were working in tandem with each other. it was all seamless. and although you were tired by the end of it all, zayne offering you a cold drink from the vending machine made you feel reenergized.

“thank you, doc,” you smile, opening the water bottle and taking in hefty sips.

“did you have any food today?” he asks, standing in front of you. his tall figure casts a shadow over you, comically making him look like a light lined savior in your exhaustion. he may as well have been anyway.

“yeah, i was able to get a quick bite from the cafeteria,”

“was it nutritious? you seemed to have been sluggish the entire shift, when did you get that food?”

“hm, maybe halfway in?”

“that was hours ago. come on, let’s go get something to eat,” he says simply, already turning to walk away and expecting you to follow. but you shoot up onto your feet to stop him.

“it’s alright zayne, i’ve got to head back home anyway. prepare food for lily and caleb,” his expression hardens and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“and when do you plan on taking care of yourself in between that?” he sighs when he sees you go silent, “lily had messaged me earlier today, before we clocked in, said that she was worried about you. and that has made me worry for you as well. take care of yourself, [name]. put yourself first more often,”

you think about his words and offer, but still shake your head, “i will, but i still should head on home,”

zayne hums at your response, “very well. take care, [name]. see you next shift and get home safe,”

“see you, zayne!”

and you’re trudging along back home. you would have liked to be greeted with a warm welcome, the idea itself making a smile grow on your tired face, but instead it’s just silence for a beat. but then you hear it; footsteps rushing down the stairs and to the front door.

to your shock it’s caleb. and he’s actually coming towards you. not glancing at you for one second before scoffing and going off to the kitchen (it’s already happened a handful of times, you almost expect it at this point). no, he’s coming over to you— more like stomping to you, though. why does he look angry?

before you can ask him that exact question, his palm is splayed against your chest, knocking you back a couple of steps at the force, “don’t insult me like that again,”

you’re quiet only because you’ve been shocked into stupor. then, finally you collect your thoughts enough to utter a meek, “what?”

“this bullshit,” he sneers, shoving his hand against your chest again. thankfully, your footing is better and you barely budge this time. but when he moves his hand off of you, you barely react in time to catch the card that was in between you and him, “giving lily your card when we were the ones going out? i can take care of her just fine, y’know?”

“i know you can, but-”

“but you just always find a way to squirm your way back in,” his voice sounds annoyed and his expression is even clearer how he’s feeling. he’s angry, obviously, because he’s looking at you with narrowed eyes and his jaw is clenched tight. “don’t do something like this again, alright?”

“caleb, i just wanted to-” your attempts at fighting back are silenced by his voice booming over yours.

“and i just want you to stop. whatever you think you’re doing to help her, i am fully capable. why don’t you worry about yourself from now on? you look like you’ve been ran through,” he scoffs, a mocking smile on his face.

heartlessly that’s when he steps away and goes back upstairs to his room. it almost makes you want to laugh out of disbelief. you come home from a 13 hour shift, gone the entire day and afternoon working to provide for him and lily. and the first thing greeting you was caleb and his hostility that has become more familiar than his usual warm personality.

where did things go wrong? is all you can ask yourself, looking at the place that no longer feels a semblance of being a home. you had practically raised both him and lily, provided almost entirely for them as much as you could without running yourself dry. and caleb can’t even muster a simple thank you?

it hurts even more knowing how close you two used to be. back when you’d come home from school, he’d be the first to greet you at the door — faster than lily and definitely faster than josephine. back then, he’d cling onto you like a koala bear, practically hanging off of your figure like he was trying to climb you. he wouldn’t shy away from skin to skin contact.

now, he doesn’t even look at you if not to scorn you. you don’t know when this switch happened exactly, but you assume it had to do with you going away for so long for university. that’s what you liked to tell yourself at least. it’d ease your pain knowing that it wasn’t something you’d done directly to caleb, but something of your environment that split you two apart.

every interaction now stung when before it felt nothing but euphoric. to have him be so close to you, to simply trust you.

it hurts to know he doesn’t even want your care and love in the form of money, the most shallow exihibition of love, in your opinion. it’s already expected he won’t accept outwardly kind gestures, won’t accept the homemade lunch boxes you used to give him, won’t listen to you when you tell him to take care of himself more, get more rest.

but not even accepting your money? the money you make solely to provide for him? the money, which in reality, is the cheapest thing you could offer him to show how much you love him? that’s not even worth anything to him? it stung as much as an actual slap to the face.

you silently prepared dinner for lily and him, knowing that only lily would eat it, and left a note for her on the dinner table. you checked her location to make sure she was on her way home safe and shut your phone off when you confirmed it.

that night you spent an unreasonable amount of time in the shower, holding a hand over your mouth to muffle the sound of you crying. it was as if the moment the water came pouring down on your bare skin, the reality of caleb’s actions came crashing down on you.

why did everything have to change? was it your fault? for expecting things to stay the same from childhood. of course, he’d change, you expected that. but to this extent…

it wasn’t until lily was banging on the door, her whining audible through the wood that made you snap out of your breakdown. attempting to blow your stuffy nose and push your hair down as much as possible to cover your eyes, you tried to suit the image of nonchalance. someone unbothered. but when you roughly went past her, she caught your wrist.

she always knew when something was wrong.

“were you crying?” she asks bluntly, eyebrows furrowed together in worry.

“no,” you sigh, avoiding her gaze and gently closing your hand around hers, pulling her hold off of you, “it’s nothing,”

“it’s not nothing if you’re crying,” she insists, grabbing your bare, still wet shoulder and forcing you to turn to her, “what happened? did someone make you cry? tell me,” beyond her control, her voice began shaking as well. she was always such a strong empath. if it was any other circumstance, you’d tease her for having such an easily swayed heart. but all you could manage was a sad smile.

“it’s alright, i’m okay, lily. just a rough day at work,” it was a lame excuse and her face only scrunched up more at the blatant lie, “it’s hard working long shifts,”

“then take time off. tell me honestly, why are you crying?” her tone is pushy, more aggressive than it usually is. it’s only out of her genuine concern for you. but you didn’t have it in you to deal with this right now.

“lily, i need to go to bed, please,” your voice and demeanor screams tired, but this is more than a regular physical fatigue. no, you look as if you’ve been tormented by something, for a long, long time. and her emotions quickly turn to anger as it all points to one thing- person that it could be.

”i’m gonna go beat his ass, that insolent piece of shit,” she curses, uncharacteristically so and she’s about to stomp off, but you grab her before she can reach his door. she’s about to berate you, scold you for allowing this to go on so long without telling him off, but she stills when she feels your damp hair against the side of her neck.

you, still standing in just your towel, hair wet with droplets of water, and nose now running again, were trying to stifle your cries into her neck, “please, don’t,” it’s a soft whimper and she’s never heard this level of vulnerability from you. “i can’t make him hate me even more,”

“he doesn’t hate you, he’s just being-”

a dry laugh from your throat that physically hurts you, makes you feel like you’re suffocating. as if the pipe that feeds you air and makes sure you can breathe wants to kill you, tightening and making it impossibly hard to talk, “lying to me isn’t going to make this any better,”

she grips the skin and muscle of your back tightly with her fingertips, borderline scratching you, “he doesn’t hate you, i know he doesn’t. he’s just…he’s just going through a phase or something, i don’t know! but he doesn’t hate you!”

you sniffle, squeezing her tightly, “just don’t…hate me like he does, please. i can’t lose both of you,”

her bottom lip trembles, eyes turning glassy as she nods against your shoulder, “i could never, you know i love you, right?”

“i love you too,” you say and for the first time in hours, you genuinely smile. even if its miniscule, even if she can’t see it, you smile.

and the momentary peace is disrupted. because caleb’s door slams open, his room being only a couple of doors down from the bathroom. the hallway is short, so it’s not surprise that he heard the noise a couple feet away from his door. it’s very obvious he doesn’t like the sight in front of him.

“what the fuck are you doing to her?!” he snarls, doesn’t shout, no because that’s not how he is. how well did you know him anymore, though? when caleb gets angry, he gets ferocious in other ways. using his build to intimidate others, glaring daggers that cut through you, spitting venomous words that not only sting but poison your mind. “you’re half naked, well practically naked, and you’re hugging her? you don’t think that’s disgusting?”

“caleb! stop!” lily shouts, dropping her arms around you and protectively standing in front of you. her eyes are still glassy with tears, but instead of being full of sorrow, they’re just angry.

“you’re crying?” he asks her, not you, noticeably softer than when he was talking to you. but that moment of kindness disipates in seconds because he’s glaring at you again, “you tell me what you did to her, or i swear to god- why is she crying?”

“caleb! shut up! shut up!” she shouts, her hands reaching in front of her to prevent him from coming any closer to you, “it’s because of y-”

“lily, stop,” your voice is stronger now. a front you have to put on to not give in, not show caleb just how much you care and love him that his words drive you to nothing but tears and sobs, “it’s enough.”

“no, no, you can’t just do that! you can’t just not tell him!”

“tell me what? what do you need to tell me?” caleb asks, but he’s not asking for a genuine answer. it’s mocking. you can hear it, as well as the smirk on his face, “need to tell me how you’re grabbing at lily, fucking naked, straight out of the shower? you’re wearing nothing but a towel too, it’s so fucking disgusting and vile,”

lily’s breathing is heavier than your own as she listens to him. you’ve gone still. it feels like world is off tilt right now. like none of this is real. caleb was seriously accusing you of being a perverted freak, copping a feel on lily? how lowly did he think of you?

“can’t defend yourself, huh? cause i’m right, is that seriously what you were doing to her?!” his voice raises and his fist slams into the wall next to him, stomping forward. the sound reverberates through the house and lily yelps, hands instinctively covering her ears.

seeing a reaction from her, shoulders ragged with her breathing and the sound of what seems like wheezing makes you snap out of it. caleb doesn’t even notice how him slamming the wall had affected her, too blinded in his misplaced rage in you to see how he was terribly, terribly scaring lily.

“caleb, stop it,”

“no, you’re the one that needs to stop! okay, i’ve been holding it in to spare your feelings, but this, this is taking it a step too far,”

“please, just stop.” lily’s words go unheard from caleb, but they make you frown and feel anger bubble in your stomach.

“always acting like you’re the man of this family, playing this role up when in reality — we don’t fucking need you! you put in those extra hours at the hospital then whine and complain about being tired! there’s no need for you to even be working, grandma’s will left us being able to pay off this house until we all move out! so why don’t you start using your money to save up for a place on your own, okay? because i can barely take your hovering, stupidly clingy and nagging behavior every single day!” he goes to step forward, to do whatever to you, but lily pushes herself in between you two.

now she’s fully sobbing and you’ve gone completely numb.

“you want me gone?”

“fucking out, get out of our lives,” he says it so casually, as if he’s been thinking about this long and hard.

“caleb! shut up already! you don’t mean that!” lily shouts, pushing her hands against his chest, barely making him budge.

“pips, i do, though,” he laughs as if its funny, “you think he can provide for us? that he’s capable? he complains everytime he comes home from work, he can’t even decide on a steady career for himself — lily, we only need each other. i’m not sparing the feelings of a guy i hate,”

silence hangs in the air and you nod in understanding, teeth grinding against each other. it takes you a couple of seconds to process everything, but when you do come back to reality, you’re stepping forward before you can even control yourself.

caleb doesn’t flinch as you stop right in front of him, standing eye to eye.

“don’t ever yell like that in front of lily again or you’re gonna be laid out on hard pavement, caleb,” lily flinches at the mention of her name, pushing the hair out of her face as she looked at you in bewilderment. “do you understand me?”

seeing as it was lily that was the topic of discussion now, he no longer cared for you. his attention shifted to lily in a split second and he was just about to go comfort her, but lily moved faster. she evaded his touch, glaring at him like he was the devil himself. her eyes flitted over to you, but you were watching caleb like a hawk.

her heart ached even harder to see wet streaks going down your face. when she turned back to caleb, her anger flared up so hard she shoved him so hard he had slammed into the wall behind him.

“don’t,” was the only thing she said to him, walking past him and grabbing your wrist to go into your room. she slammed the door shut before he could chase after you two, locking it and pressing her forehead against the door.

wordlessly, you grabbed your clothing and changed while her back was turned to you, using your towel to dry your hair as you sat on the edge of your bed. she was already waiting beneath the covers for you, watching you with sad eyes.

“are you going to really leave us?” her voice was shaky and she sniffled, hand gripping the comforter in frustration, “i won’t blame you if you do, but,”

“i’m not leaving, lily,” you assure her, running a hand through your hair and deciding it dry enough, “not yet, at least,” you laid down next to her, smiling as she immediately drew herself to you. she slotted against your side, head resting on your chest as you hugged her close.

she breathed a sigh of relief, “good, he shouldn’t get that satisfaction — if you left he would’ve thought he got to you or something,” you felt her jaw tighten against your skin, “that stupid idiot, why would he say those things? he’s not thinking straight. [name], please understand this,” she looked up at you, bleary eyes making you frown, “i don’t hate you, i never will. i need you in my life. even if you decide to leave this house sometime in the future, don’t leave me. please,” she put her head down, cheek resting on your chest, “i’ll support you whenever you do decide to go, but don’t shut me out,”

“i won’t, trust me, lily. i’ll still be around,” you speak in whispers, as if the two of you are scared of caleb barging in at any moment.

in the next couple rooms over, caleb was laying in his bed and staring up at his ceiling. he was impossibly still and every breath he took was ragged.

honestly, he does hate you. he hates the way you linger, longer than any other presence or person that he’s known he hates the way you are constantly fretting over him and lily, as if he’s not capable of taking care of himself and lily. you’re overall a clingy mess that he could name a million things that he doesn’t like about you.

but most of all, where this all started, caleb hated the way you left so easily. then came back as if nothing happened.

you were always seen as a reliable figure in the house. grandma could count on you to cook dinner, to take care of utility things as she got older, and she had high expectations for you and standards that she expected you to meet. and not only did you meet them, you exceeded them.

teachers at school praise your intelligience, peers relied on you a lot for academic guidance.

caleb was quick to notice these things when he was young. and he was so eager to be just like that, if not better. he wanted to be someone you could rely on, show you how he learns and admires you so much he picks up your tendencies. honestly, he likes being lazy, not doing more than is required of him. but then he noticed how much weight rested on your shoulders.

so he wanted to be the one to alleviate that, so you could rely on him. and if you relied on him, you’d think highly of him. and that is what he wants more than anything in life. he wants your praise, attention, special treatment — he wants all of it.

he thought it would be like this. you two the main providers and reliable men in the house while you both cared for each other and lily. it was going to be the three of you, forever.

but then you got whisked away. a scholarship that was too perfect to pass up on. of course, you’d be graced with amazing offers left and right due to your intelligence. it wasn’t a surprise. but he never thought that as you were weighing all your options, the farthest away university had caught your eye. surely, you don’t mean it? leaving him and lily alone? it’s always been the three of you, what are you going to do without them? what are they supposed to do without you?

you left like it meant nothing. as if you weren’t abandoning your everything. at least that’s what it felt like. you didn’t even look back twice, waving from the platform then running onto the train with a quick glance spared in time before the doors shut. and he ran after that train, until he couldn’t anymore, breathing heavily and his hands on his knees as he looked at the concrete below him.

“he’ll come back, caleb,” lily comforted him, sad seeing how distraught he was. caleb was always used to being strong in front of her and soft in front of you. now, he felt as if he couldn’t be completely vulnerable anymore. he had to be strong for lily.

so he hardened up. got more rigid and rough around the edges, only showing genuine care towards lily. and he fell into that hole so deeply he didn’t know how to claw himself out. didn’t even know how to come back to being who he truly was when you pulled him into your arms when you finally came back to visit.

you’d think he’d eventually get over your absence, but the truth is he never did. he was angry at you, so, so angry. so angry he didn’t know how else to communicate it without verablly berating you. trying to hurt you just as much as you did him when you left.

he hopes his words sting you. he hopes they keep you up at night. and he hopes they hurt more than anything.

because that’s how he had felt every single minute, second, you were gone. he didn’t understand how you could so easily leave him. he didn’t understand and he didn’t want to anymore, he was over trying to comprehend it. he just wanted to make you feel his pain tenfold. make it so you’re always reminded of what happened to him when you left him.

you want to leave again? just know that when you come back, he’ll be waiting to break you down to such vulnerability that you won’t have anywhere else to go but back to him. and you’d always come back like he hoped.

he didn’t know why. what type of sick person stays with someone that hurts them?

he doesn’t know that the reason is the exact same reason as a person hurting someone out of fear that they leave again.

obviously, if you had told this to caleb now he’ll say you’re lying, you’ve got him wrong, and that he doesn’t care if you leave or stay.

but if you ask caleb, the caleb that was left running after your train on the platform, he’d answer truthfully and admit; every harmful thing caleb has said to you has just been a voice of his own insecurities. the fear you’d realize you’re better off without him or lily, fear you’d leave and never come back, fear you’d find someone better.

and just as much as he fears that, he’s scared of being hurt again. he doesn’t want to stay up for hours on end anymore just because he’s thinking about you, wondering if you’ve had dinner, if you’re taking care of yourself. it leaves him walking around like a brainless zombie. he doesn’t want to endure that slow, stabbing pain in his heart every morning he wakes up and you’re not even in the same city as him.

he wishes he could just forgive and move on from this, but every time he tries, he’s reminded of how helpless you made him feel. he hates that feeling.

so he kept hurting you, hoping you’d simply understand why he had to even though it made no sense. hoped you’d see why he had to, to make you feel how he felt. and he hoped you’d never leave.

he rationalizes this is what you get for leaving, for abandoning him.

of course, you haven’t got any idea about any of this. so, obviously, from your perspective, it looks simply like caleb’s had a switch flipped and there’s no way to reverse it. the damage has already been done and the relationship has truly been shattered this time. and you’ll still go home — if you could even call it that — but, nothing will ever go back to the way it was.

“lily told me what happened,” zayne sits across from you, a rare meeting you two are having outside of work, “she has expressed concerns of you staying there, so stay with me,”

you blink at him in confusion, “sorry?”

he clears his throat, “my apologies, i suppose my voice was not clear. i am offering you, wait no…” he pauses, fingers resting beneath his chin in thought, “I am opening my doors to you, for you to stay with me until you find another place to reside.”

“i’m sorry, zayne, but what?”

“surely i was speaking clearer this time,” he’s speaking more so to himself, “i am asking you live with me and become my roommate. i think it would do you some well to be far from caleb. although she spared me the details, it wasn’t hard to infer how he spoke to you the other night. it’s unacceptable and frankly dangerous for you to be near someone so volatile, openly so at that. so the only solution i could reach was offering you my place to stay, until you get on your feet,”

“zayne, i can’t possibly accept. also! i told lily i wouldn’t be leaving any time soon, i can’t just up and out her life, it doesn’t work like that,”

“lily and caleb are grown adults, you know? they can and will survive without you there,” you let his words simmer in your mind, thinking back to caleb calling you clingy and useless to them. he senses he may have said something that set you off, continuing on, “not to say they don’t need you — lily does, believe me, she does. however, all the main household duties you fulfill are jobs that they can easily learn.”

“did she really set you up to this?” you can’t help but questioned reason behind zayne’s sudden hospitality.

“well, she mentioned it to me in passing, i took it upon myself to daw up a solution. it makes sense, no?” he asks the question as if its simple to decide to move out of your home.

“i can’t just up and leave, zayne. also, that’s asking way too much of you. also, also, you really don’t need to worry about thi-“

“the way lily had described it would leave anyone worried and concerned. for being as cautious and perceptive as you are for other people, you don’t seem to let people do the same for you,” zayne’s curt voice cuts you off and you sigh in frustration. “we are friends, aren’t we? won’t you let me help you? i’m obviously telling you now that it is okay with me,”

you glare at the doctor with your arms crossed over your chest. for some reason, zayne was being quite adament with you. you make a mental note to ask lily what exactly it was that she told zayne because it sounds like he’s speaking as if he was in the room when caleb said those things to you. he sounds personally offended and hurt. even his facial expression makes it seem as if he knows more than he lets on. a grimace on his face whenever he mentions caleb’s name or the incident in general.

so after much thought, and heavy eye contact with each other as if you’re trying to read each other’s minds, you finally say, “i will stay with you for a week or two, just for some space. i won’t even bring my clothes to keep, i’ll go to my home in the day and just sleep at yours,”

“a glorified sleepover, then. fine by me,” a small smile graces his handsome face and you think this is the first time he’s smiled since you two have sat down. maybe his worries were finally eased when you accepted his offer. he seemed more laid back, shoulders slumping as much as they could when you have perfect posture like he does, as well as leaning more into the back of his seat.

“with that out of the way, shall we order? my treat, to celebrate your new freedom,”

“zayne! don’t call it that!” you laugh, finding the way he said it to be funnier than he intended.

“i see it as such,” he shrugs, calling over a waitress as he prepares to order, “you want the [favorite food], right?” he quickly clarifies as she steps closer and closer.

you tilt your head in surprise, “uhm, yeah, that sounds perfect. how’d you know that?”

“i studied the menu beforehand and ensured they had your favorite. i remembered.”

and he’s placing the order before you can even properly process what he had just said. all you know was that it was nice to be remembered. it was a pleasant feeling, warmth blooming on your face and chest as you watched zayne easily order for the two of you.

maybe it’d be nice to have a somewhat “new” start with him.

caleb notices the difference immediately. well, it’s not exactly hard to spot it when it’s in the form of lily glaring at him anytime they are near each other, as well as possibly spitting out venomous words to him.

“you piece of shit,”

“you’re a heartless monster, caleb,”

“don’t come near me,”

things along those lines were delivered to him anytime he was near her. he had apologized repeatedly to her, but each time he tried, she would just scoff and walk away. as if he was wasting his breath. and, honestly, he was. because lily didn’t want an apology from him directed to her, she only wanted him to do that for you. and also to leave her alone. whenever he comes up to her, all she can see is your teary face from that night and how he was the cause of it.

and her anger spikes up all over again. it’s a never ending cycle.

but one day, lily says something that truly leaves caleb with a hallow feeling in his chest.

“when will you realize you’re the one going to get hurt from this? you absolute idiot,” a string of curses followed that declaration, but caleb was too busy thinking about what she was implying to care too much for her profanity.

as far as he was concerned, you were just avoiding him at home and that was as far as your response to him was. you weren’t lingering anymore, yes, but he preferred it that way.

obviously.

it didn’t bother or hurt him that he’d be leaving for his own plans just as you were coming back home from work. it didn’t bother him when he notices your house keys are always gone, never returned to their original spot for hours on end, which means you’re not home. but if you’re not home and you’ve brought your home keys with you, then where were you? he knew your shifts were never longer than 24 hours, so where you spending those other eleven hours you were off the clock — since you’d obviously not be home.

not that caleb cared. because he didn’t. he was just curious, to say the least.

this is exactly what he told you to do anyway. what he said and convinced himself he meant in that heated moment.

meanwhile, as caleb was slowly turning his brain inside out trying to think of what you were getting up to nowadays, you were finally able to somewhat relax and detattch yourself from the situation.

living with zayne was awkward at first. he was a very light sleeper, you found out quite quickly. you went to get a glass of water one night when you couldn’t sleep and he was already standing in the door frame of the kitchen, messy hair standing upright in every which way.

“i didn’t mean to wake you, i’m sorry,” you apologize sincerely, shutting the cabinet door as quietly as you could.

“don’t be sorry, i was rather restless in bed. who knows, maybe being up for a bit could tire my brain out,” he pulls back the seat at the dinner table, rubbing at his eyes underneath his glasses, “are you not able to sleep?”

“it’s just weird,” you say sheepishly, taking the seat in front of him and feeling suddenly bashful at his very watchful gaze. “not sleeping at home,”

“i can only imagine,” he comforts, albeit in his usual monotone and collected voice. it does well to soothe you though, knowing that you are simply being heard was a relief in of itself. it felt like you were rarely ever even heard nowadays, “i hope sleeps finds you easier, though. late night walks to the kitchen at,” he checks the clock on the wall, “4 a.m. will hardly do you any good in the long run,”

you nod in understanding, sipping your water and just tapping the glass. then, you hear a yawn come from him. it’s an odd sight. seeing the usually composed, very precise doctor zayne yawn like a tired cat in front of you, covering his mouth with his hand as he does so. without realizing, a smile has come onto your face at the sight.

“am i so funny to you?” he deadpans, squinting his eyes at your expression.

“no, not at all, zayne, you just,” you laugh a bit before speaking your mind, “you looked so innocent, it reminded me of when we were little,”

he hums, quirking his brow, “you like reminiscing?”

you shrugged, “it’s nice to think about. before you were a slave to the medical field and were working over 20 hours a day sometimes,” he seems to think that’s an entertaining comment, the slightest upturn of his lips being a reaction to your words.

“i remember you clearly,” he says, an unreadable look on his face.

“huh?” your face must have been funny because he actually chuckled at your reaction, “that was so out of nowhere,”

“not really, you were talking about me and now i’m talking about you,” he explains smoothly, “i remember you very clearly from our childhood, that’s all i was saying.”

“like what?” you ask in curiousity, “hm, i never thought you paid me much mind. you were always thinking about bigger and better things,”

he remains silent, fingers tapping the table before settling to be still and laying his palm flat on the surface. he pushes up, standing above you and nodding his head back to the direction of the door frame, “let’s go to bed,”

“hey! you can’t just not answer the question,”

“i’m feeling rather forgetful all of a sudden, we should go to bed to regain our recollection of what we’re talking about after a good sleep,” his excuse is so lame you think it must be a joke, his unique sense of humor. that being said, it doesn’t do anything to ease your wondering, but it’s obvious he’s not going to answer you properly. right now at least.

“fine, i’m getting this answer out of you later,” you huff as you stand in front of your room’s closed door. he leans closer, reaching behind your torso and twisting the doorknob open for you. he’s so close you can smell the lingering scent of his shampoo and body wash.

“sweet dreams, [name],” he whispers quietly, smiling as he pushes the door open behind you and leaving you standing in a stunned silence.

since when was zayne so suave? you had no idea. but you were not going to stay up all night wondering what the answer to that was.

as time went on, you and zayne got closer. it was natural, of course since you are living together. but now you’re spending more time with him, rather than just rotting in your room in your despair. he often is able to lure you out with a game of kitty cards and from there, conversation just flows naturally now.

after pressing him for more answers one day, it seemed that as children zayne was very fond of you. he thought you to be more mature than lily, and caleb — who would oftentimes be the one to entertain lily and her childlike, rambunctious wonders. he liked that. you two were in the same boat when it came to tending to caleb and lily since they were younger.

and he only ever spoke positively of you when he talked about those times. there’s an odd look on his face whenever he did, too. as if he could remember all those things as clear as day, when to you, it’s all kind of blurry.

a lot of conversations looked like:

“you really don’t remember scraping your knee on the pavement so hard, you needed to be comforted for 20 minutes?”

“are you sure that was me, zayne? that sounds too much like lily,”

“monkey see, monkey do,”

“hey!!”

him telling you a story from childhood, you not remembering a single bit of it, then him poking fun at you and your younger self. you wish you knew what was so special about these moments that made him remember them so vividly, but you just chalked it up to his exceptional memory that you assumed he had. medical professional and all, he must have photographic memory…

“are you ready for work?” he asks, already waiting by the door for you. you’re grabbing your work bag and nod in response. he holds the door open for you, locking it behind you as well. then he’s clicking the car key to unlock the doors and driving the both of you to akso hospital. talks in the car are mainly you yapping about whatever is on your mind and zayne attentively listening.

that’s how he likes it, though. hearing you talk so animatedly and carefree before a long, tiring shift gives him an extra boost of energy. generally, too, he just much prefers listening to you go on tangent after tangent versus having to be the conversation starter.

like right now, as you talk with your hands, leaning on your seat in a way so that you’re more so facing him than the road. your seat belt is on, of course, but he still can’t help the nagging feeling in his mind.

“[name], sit properly, please,”

you adjust quickly, not letting his interruption stop your story time. he smiles at the simpleness of this new routine he has with you. he’s quite happy it’s all worked out to be like this, instead of possibly awkward.

it’s unfortunate what the circumstances which you got closer in were, but zayne doesn’t dwell on it further. thinking more of the future rather than the past, he just wishes it stays like this for as long as you need. selfishly, he finds you company to be the best he’s had around him in a long while.

the part where you told zayne that this arrangement would only last a week or two turned out to be an unintentional lie. to his relief and happiness, you had decided to semi-permanently move in. you didn’t haul all of your belongings from your house into his, but you did start leaving your clothes in the guest room drawer and bringing toiletries with you to keep in his bathroom. this was just the temporary solution until you found a unit that was close enough to the hospital and cheap enough for you to pay the rent there, as well as the bills that you were still responsible for at the house with lily and caleb.

lily was sad to hear your decision, but she supported you. it wasn’t like it was goodbye forever, anyway. you weren’t that far, too. if she really wanted and needed you, she would be on zayne’s front doorstep in thirty minutes by taking public transport.

the three of you were sat in a cafe, a shared favorite amongst you three, when you told her.

“so does caleb have any idea about it yet?” she asked after a beat of silence. the mention of his name made you nearly choke on your water. “sorry! i didn’t mean to scare you like that,” she watches with a bashful expression as zayne rubs up and down your back to comfort you from your coughing fit. “not that it’s really his business! i just got curious,”

“hm, have you two spoken one on one since that night?” zayne asks, eyes carefully scanning you once you stop coughing to ensure you’re okay.

“uhm, no, i haven’t told him, and no we haven’t talked,”

“you should probably tell him,” zayne murmurs, cutting into his food and wrinkling his nose when he sees a slice of carrots on his plate.

wordlessly, you move your fork over to his plate and take the vegetable, eating it as you answer, “i should tell him, but do i really have to?” your tone is almost a whine, but you’re just joking and teasing. lily giggles at it whilst zayne finds it anything but funny.

“should i accompany you when you tell him?” he asks in all seriousness.

you think about it for a moment, eating another slice of a carrot before shaking your head, “it’ll be fine, i imagine it’ll be quick,”

your heart still hurts thinking about everything he said to you that night, but you try to shake off those thoughts and feelings every time they creep up on you. you hate thinking about how much of what he said he meant, hate remembering the genuine pain in your chest that you felt in the moment. the embarrassment of it all.

zayne and lily notice your bout of silence, lily reaching across the table to hold your hand, “if you need me or zayne there tell us, okay? it’s not weak to ask for support,”

you smile weakly at her, squeezing her hand before letting go, “it’s okay, i’m a grown adult,”

“grown adult or not, facing the person who humiliated you is rather daunting of a task. perhaps, you should give him a taste of his own medicine,” zayne reasons, you assume to comfort you, when in reality you just sweatdrop at his blunt words. living and working with him though does make you somewhat used to it. as for lily, her jaw drops at zayne’s suggestion.

“zayne!” she cries out incredulously.

“what?” there’s a dumbfounded look on his face, so innocent and confused, which makes you break out into laughter.

your laugh being contangious to the both of them leaves them slowly easing into their own giggles. lily tries stiffling hers, but eventually she’s holding her stomach to ease the soreness. zayne’s lips quirk up in an open smile as he watches you laugh.

“for that one, i think zayne should treat us,”

“i hardly see how that correlates,” he shoots back instantly, a feeling of pride swell in his chest as you immediately laugh at his response. he likes being the one to make you laugh, he realizes. even if his dry humor doesn’t always land properly, he’s happy that you laugh quite often with him.

lily wipes the corner of her eyes, nodding in agreement with you, “i think that’s the perfect idea, oppa,”

“thank you for paying up, zaynie,” you tease, throwing your arm around his shoulder and pulling him in close. it’s awkward, seeing as his posture is still perfect while he sits and you are only the tiniest bit shorter than him. he is being forced to physically slouch to accommodate the height difference, all with a stoic look on his face in comparison to your very cheerful one.

it makes lily break out into laughter again at the sight.

needless to say, the lunch was a success and you all walked out of the restaurant feeling lighter.

“i’ll take you home,” you tell lily, following after her as she walks to the bus station.

she shakes her head, “no, i can’t let you do that! go home with zayne, [name],” she chides, sounding like a mom scolding their child. unfortunately for her, her tone is nothing but cute to you. so you ruffle her hair, look over your shoulder to wave bye to zayne, then hold her hand as you drag her towards the bus stop.

“hey! i said i’ll be alright,”

“i know you will, but i also needed to stop home to grab a set of scrubs anyway,” she rolls her eyes at your excuse, not sure if she should believe you or not. the two of you wait in silence for a couple of minutes before she finally speaks up.

“so, how do you feel after spending some time away from caleb?” her words are careful and slow, “any better? worse? do you hate him?”

you crack a smile at her rapid fire question, offering her a knowing look, “i think we both know me and hating caleb don’t really go in the same sentence,”

there’s a sad look in her eyes that you can very easily read, “don’t look at me like that,” you scold her, “c’mon, i’m gonna be fine.”

“how? how can you not just want to see him miserable after everything he said to you?”

you shrug your shoulders, “i don’t know, i just don’t. all i really feel towards him is,” a lot to say in such simple terms, honestly. you still harbor strong, strong, strong feelings of love and attachment to caleb, but your pride and self-respect are far too strong to make you grovel at his feet and wait for an explanation, or apology, “so much, but nothing at the same time.”

she nods in understanding, leaning on your arm as she looked ahead.

“i’m sorry, [name],” she says sincerely, “i don’t know what happened…but i feel like i’m responsible,”

immediately, you hold her shoulders and shake your head, “don’t say that, this is not your fault in any way and you do not owe me an apology,” your voice is stern, a familiar one you use only in moments of seriousness, “lily, none of this is your fault,”

“i wish i could change it, though. i wish caleb didn’t change so much,” her voice is shaky, “it’s wrong to say because caleb is caleb and maybe this is how he always was, always was meant to be, but still…i can’t help miss how things used to be. we all used to be so close and now, i hate how he’s turned out,”

you sigh, rubbing your thumb up and down her bicep as you squeeze her tight, “you don’t mean that, lily. you could never hate him, like how i could never hate him,”

she shakes her head, “your love is stronger than mine, [name]. because the only thing i feel towards him is hate, all those things he said to you, i don’t think i’d ever be able to forgive him. he tore us all apart,” her words sound like they’re coming from gritted teeth, “you are stronger and better than me, i can’t be as forgiving as you.”

you bite your lip, thinking of your next words carefully, “i really hope you never love someone as much as this, lily. because it hurts.” she sniffles at your confession, pressing further into your side, “it hurts so much. but i can’t find the will in me to hate him,” a weak and dry chuckle escapes your lips, “it’s so stupid because i’d hate anyone else that do something like this to me, to anybody i knew, i’d hate them. someone that embarassed me as much as he did, but i just can’t. not with caleb,”

“i know,” she comforts, squeezing your hand tight, “but at least this means a new chapter in your life, moving out and stuff. i know you won’t forget about me, so i’m not worried,” she manages to lighten the mood with a weak smile, “truthfully, in my opinion, he doesn’t deserve a bit of an explanation from you,”

you smile at her defensive words, finding it so endearing that she’s so protective of you and your pride.

“but you’re too kind to leave him in the dark,” she sighs.

you can only hum in response, forcing a smile once you see the bus arrive at your stop to pick you two up.

you wished that it could have been planned better. could have been orchestrated in a way where you knew everything you wanted to say, had the proper amount of confidence to say it, and then be done with it. like ripping the bandaid off.

but, of course, that doesn’t happen. instead, one of the days of the week you come back home to grab your other belongings, caleb is there and lily is not. it’s a more so “if not now, then when?” mixed in with the feeling that this opportunity shouldn’t be ignored.

so as he’s sitting in the living room, watching tv and ignoring you, you clear your throat for him to look at you.

“i’m moving out,” the words are blunt, but also misspoken, so you quickly follow up with, “well, i’m looking for a place and then i’m moving out. i’ll still be the one responsible for the bills and stuff, but…yeah, i just wanted to let you know,”

caleb’s expression is hard to read. you can’t even begin to theorize what he could be thinking because you feel like you don’t really know him anymore. he’s shut you out so well that you no longer could predict what he could say.

but you didn’t expect silence. you expected a scoff, a “who cares?” or any other snide remark. but instead you got silence.

you can’t help the crushing feeling of disappointment fill you, the feeling that he really, truly doesn’t care enough about you to even say anything. so you fill the silence, promising this was the last of it and you’d be out the door, “i’ll be out of your way now, just as you wanted, but i’ll still be here for you if you or lily need anything. just call or text me whenever, okay?”

more silence, but at least now he’s looking at you. his purple eyes are zeroed in on you and his eyebrow is furrowed and pinched together, lips in a thin line. if you had describe it objectively, you’d say he looks conflicted. but realistically, this was probably just him getting ready to amp up whatever insult he was going to direct to you.

so you turn away from his gaze and walk towards the door. except, you really can’t move your muscles after the first couple of steps. it’s as if the air around you is holding you hostage. you panic for a moment, struggling where you’re stuck before remembering the one thing that can cause this. caleb’s evol was stopping you from moving any closer to the door.

“you’re leaving? is that what you’re telling me?” his voice is now centimeters behind you and you barely have the strength to turn and look at him.

“caleb, stop your evol! this isn’t comfort-“

“you said you’re leaving?” he persists and you wince at the feeling of his hard grip around your wrist. he turns you to face him, still holding you still with his gravity, and forces you to back up in the wall behind you.

now you can see his face clearly. he’s angry, it seems. his eyes are dark, teeth gritted against each other and his shoulders are square and broad, as if he’s sizing you up to intimidate you.

“caleb, turn off your evol, now,” you muster up the strength in your voice to say that, but that was enough to get you breathless.

“why? so you can just walk out that door?” he laughs, a dry, humorless laugh. it’s almost like he’s mocking you.

if only you could really see inside of his head right now. you’d be more terrified than him simply mocking you. you’d be scared to see how fast his mind was racing, the crazy conclusions he was jumping to, the unethical solutions he was thinking of to keep you here. to make you stay.

“well, i need to go back to- caleb, just turn it off,” you’re getting restless now and annoyed. he’s throwing such a temper tantrum just to taunt you and you won’t take it anymore. you want nothing more than to leave.

while caleb will do everything in his power to make you stay.

“go back to where? this is your home.” his words throw you off, the stern tone he takes with you making you blink rapidly in confusion, “this is your home, this house is where you belong and where you will stay. where are you possibly going back to? some dingy, disgusting motel?”

why does he suddenly care? you tilt your head to the side, looking at him with an offended expression, “caleb, you don’t get to care now where i go. all that’s your business is that i need to go and i don’t want to be here anymore,”

“you’re not leaving! stop saying you’re going to leave!” he shouts and it throws you so off guard you flinch backwards, “you’re not leaving! okay?! i won’t let you leave, you’re not going anywhere. you belong here, you stay here, you don’t get to leave!”

he’s shouting now, voice booming and it feels like its rattling the walls around you.

“what is wrong with you?!” you shout back, trying to fight against his evol. just to push him away from you or something, anything to create distance between you two.

“what is wrong with me?!” he laughs as he repeats it, glaring at you, “no, no, no, what’s wrong with you?! why does you always want to leave, always want to fucking leave me?! what is wrong with you?”

“caleb, what the fuck are you talking about?! you literally told me two weeks ago you didn’t want me in your life anymore!”

“you’re not supposed to leave,” his voice is quiet now, as if he’s talking to himself as he shakes his head repeatedly ‘no’, “you’re supposed to come back home and stay here, you’re not supposed to leave. don’t leave…you’re not allowed,”

“i’m not allowed? what am i, you’re little brother or something? a little lost boy you have to watch over?”

for some reason that ticks him off even more because now he’s yelling again, “don’t say that! don’t! you’re not any of those things to me!”

“oh, you’re right, i’m nothing more than the dirt under your shoe, you’re right,” you sarcastically exclaim, trying your best to move beneath the pressure of his evol, “caleb, let me go home,”

“this is your home! where else is your home?!” something flickers in his eyes and a crazed look comes across his face, “who is it? what is it? tell me right now or i swear to fucking god,”

he’s now pressed against you, chest to chest as he begs for answers, repeating the same questions over and over. you avoid his face being close to yours by turning to the side and snarling, “why is that any of your business?”

“so there is someone? what is it? who is it? who is it?” he’s repeats once more, grabbing your cheek and forcing you to look at him, “tell me. who is it this time? who’s taking you from me again?”

this is the most erratic he’s been the entire night, and that’s saying something, “what? this time- caleb, what the fuck are you talking about? i’m not telling you anything,”

“i deserve to know,”

“uh, no, actually, you don’t!”

“i deserve to know who’s taking you from me again. who i need to go and fucking kill.”

“what are you talking about?!” you scream, genuinely being at a loss of words at what he had just said, “are you going insane or something?! what are you talking about, caleb?”

his face looks devoid of emotion, but he keeps talking with the same amount of passion and feeling, “you’re leaving me, again, to go back to someone else. you’re leaving me for someone else. tell me who it is and i’ll go kill them,” he repeats it as if he’s just reading off simple, boring current events.

“caleb, what has gotten into you? why, why are you…like this,” your questions is ragged and asked with such levels of venom it makes caleb visibly flinch.

then, he’s laughing, an empty laugh.

“why am i like this?” he pauses, tilting his head back and breathing in a deep breath, “you’re the one who did this to me. you’re the one who made me like this, you don’t get to ask why i am like this.” you blink in confusion, wondering what the hell he was talking about.

“this is all your fault. if you hadn’t left, if you didn’t leave me here, all alone, none of this would be happening. you wouldn’t have to ask why am i like this — if you just stayed!” his voice is shaky now, “you left me first and i’ve been like this ever since. do you know what that does to a person? to see the one person you love and care about leave without even looking back? you didn’t even care you were leaving me to die. you didn’t even,” he pauses, breathing going ragged and now you’re genuinely concerned for his well being, “you didn’t even look back at me. you didn’t care, you were the one who left and you didn’t even care.”

now you’re speechless. what the hell was caleb talking about?

“you don’t even know what i’m talking about — that’s how little you care about me,” he accuses, pushing against you and forcing you to look into his eyes, which have now become teary, “you’re the reason i’m like this, [name]. you’re the reason why i won’t let you leave again. you don’t get to leave, don’t be so fucking selfish,”

“what the hell is wrong with you caleb!? you call me the meanest things, you say the most vile shit you could say to someone who cares about you — and now you’re calling me selfish on top of it, for what? for choosing to no longer be near you, just like you asked?! you asked for me to get out of this house, so i’m leaving! what does it matter to you-”

caleb falters and it looks as if he’s remembering everything he said to you. as if there’s flashes of memories going on in his mind.

“[name], please don’t leave,” as if a switch flipped in his head, his voice goes soft, “don’t leave me, please, please don’t leave. i’ll explain everything to you if you promise me to not leave,”

“i don’t want an explanation from you anymore, caleb,” you sneer, thinking his request insane and disrespectful, “you didn’t let me into your life for so long and now you’re begging me to stay, promising me an explanation? as if a singular explanation could justify how you’ve been treating me,”

“i’m not saying it will justify it, i just have to tell you, to make you see from my perspect-”

“caleb, i really don’t want to have this conversation with you. from what you’ve told me, you want nothing else to do with me anymore — i’m giving you that out, right now. i don’t want to hear it,” you’re surprised with your own steady voice, but you’re proud of yourself for speaking so steadily, so sternly. his evol finally loosens off of you and this makes you immediately push him away.

“don’t go, i’m begging you, [name], don’t go. don’t go,” his voice is shaky and his grip on your wrist is so tight it almost hurts. just as you were about to reach for the door, he had grabbed your hand. and after securing your wrist in his hold, he dropped to his knees and tugged hard, as if he was trying to weigh you down to the floor with him. “don’t go, i’ll tell you everything, please,”

“caleb, i’m not-”

“you left, for university. and you didn’t even think twice before leaving me here, you left me here alone. and i hated you for it. you left without any regret or remorse, you acted as if you didn’t even care when in reality you were scarring me. i hated you for that, hated that you so easily chose something else over me, when i would never do that to you,” his words were rushed, knowing that it was now or never, “we were inseparable and you didn’t even care that you would be so far from me, that’s why i’m so bitter and i can’t let you leave now. do you understand now? i can’t let you walk out that door,”

you blink, processing his words. he waits for a reaction, any reaction from you. waits for you to realize what memories he’s talking about, waits for you to tell him your side of the story. then finally, you take in a deep breath and say, “are you fucking kidding me, caleb?”

he flinches at your harsh tone, tightening his hold on you as he realizes you might actually leave now.

“you berated me, you humiliated me, you harassed me — for years! — just because i went to another university?! a university that i went to for the betterment of this entire house?! that school was one of the only schools that gave us scholarship money, it helped keep you guys afloat here and you’re telling me; you’re mad at me for choosing that place?!” you’re screaming now, a frantic look in your eyes. this was the entire reason caleb hated you for years, or supposedly hated you? “you chose to bully me and belittle me for years because you thought i didn’t care?! i had to choose that school, caleb, or else we would’ve been without a home, without a place to sleep.

“josephine’s money was running low — i had to take that university’s scholarship offer or else we all would’ve been fucked!”

“then why didn’t you tell me that?” he practically cries, tears glistening in his eyes as his lip trembles.

“you were just a kid, none of that was your business! if i had told you, you would have tried scraping together some money, god knows how, and i didn’t want to push that responsibility onto you!” you shout back, feeling so incredibly frustrated you couldn’t contain it in the mature way you usually would.

“josephine was running out of money?” he echoes, catching that detail, “you told me that her will was paying off our bills and would be able to for a long time?”

“yes, of course i’d lie about that to you! you were too young to know the truth! why do you think i started working at the hospital instead of getting my master’s degree?! we need money, you asshole, and i had to pick up extra shifts to not worry about you, how i was getting food onto our table, and how to keep this house as our own!” you try tugging your hand away, but caleb is holding onto it like it’s a lifeline, “every single decision i’ve made was for you and lily. i love you two too much and all i’ve gotten from you caleb was spite and hatred. you cannot expect me to care at all about the reasoning behind your behavior — all i know is that you treated me like shit for years, for no reason,”

“you never told me,” he brokenly whispered, nuzzling into your palm. he mimicked a dog begging for forgiveness, “you never told me, i would’ve helped and i would’ve understood,”

“would you have? because last i remembered, you said me picking up extra shifts and complaining about being tired made me weak and useless!”

“i would’ve helped!”

“it’s not about you not helping or not knowing, caleb! it’s about you being a dickhead for no reason!” your breathing is shaky and you work up the courage to say, “do you have any idea how it feels to hear the one person you love say how much they despise you?”

that makes caleb’s grip falter. his head snaps up to look at you, still on his knees in front of you, “what?”

“i loved you, caleb. so much. but i don’t think i love you enough to begin to even understand your whole reasoning behind this behavior. you hurt me in the worst ways possible, calling me clingy and useless. can you even imagine what that feels like, caleb?” you take a deep breath, “it’s as if lily told you she hated you and wished you stop trying to be in her life, if that’ll help you understand,”

caleb’s head tilts to the side, “how is this about lily? what do you mean you loved me? what do you mean by that, [name]?”

you scoff at his question, rubbing your free wrists to ease the tender flesh, “i don’t need to explain to yo-”

“i love you, too,” he confesses quickly, rushing his words to ensure you hear him and his confession.

you’re shocked, genuinely feeling as if your heart dropped to your stomach. he’s still nuzzling his face into your palm that he’s holding in an iron grip, looking up at you expectingly. he didn’t mean that, you tell yourself. it’s another sick way of his to hurt you.

“caleb, let me go,” you say, willing yourself to speak despite wanting to just vomit out your guts. this was so painful, more painful that you expected it to be. why was caleb so deadset on hurting you so much?

“no, no, i won’t let you-“

“caleb, please.”

“i won’t-“

“caleb, let me go.”

he hears the difference in your tone. there’s not even an ounce of emotion, no anger, no sadness, no begging. just monotone with a stoic look on your face.

“[name], i love-“

“caleb, stop it, i’m tired. please, just let me go,” you plead with him, voice and resolve weak as you can’t will yourself to speak any louder than this hushed tone.

“no, listen, i love you too that’s why i can’t let you go. i’ve loved you since we were children and that’s why you leaving hurt me so much, but now i understand, hyung. i understand and i’m not mad and i’ll stop being such an asshole and i’ll be better, please. just don’t leave again, please? this is your home, isn’t it? stay, please,” caleb’s words are rushed, fighting the urge to hug your legs to his chest to truly prevent you from running away. but, he thinks that his confession of his true emotions are enough. or, he hopes they are.

of course, it isn’t enough. his words just leave you looking even more devoid of emotions and tired than you were before this conversation started.

“caleb, please let me go,”

“no. hyung, please say something…i just, i can’t lose you again, please.”

“what do you want me to say? what? that i love you too?” your voice is still missing that anger that you wanted to convey, but you had no energy to. but the look in your eyes alone show the passion you have in setting caleb straight, “i’d be fucking lying, caleb. i don’t think i could love you the same way i did before. this is completely,” you shake your hand, finally being able to set yourself free and rushing backwards from him, “untrue, you don’t mean a single word right now. you’re just lying to get me to stay, a last ditch resort.”

“that’s not true! what can i do to make you see i mean it? tell me, [name], i will show you. i’m not lying, i mean it,” his voice cracks and he clears his throat as he holds you tight, “don’t leave me please, i’ll prove it to you, i’ll show you,”

“you’re going to show me? caleb, just let me go,” you sigh, shaking your hand out of his and finally feeling some relief to see that he actually let go, “you need to set yourself right before you can prove anything to me, caleb. i honestly am not interested in you doing any of that either, so i’m not promising you anything. i still care for you and i love-” you cut yourself off mid sentence, knocking your forehead with your closed fist to physically prevent yourself from slippning up. with a deep breath, you continue on, “i’ll take care of everything still, but it’d probably be best if we just left it at that,”

“left what?” his eyes look as if they’re shaking in worry and fear.

“just sort yourself out first, caleb.” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose and moving to walk out, not turning back once to look at him.

a million thoughts were running through caleb’s mind. you were actually walking away from him and it sounded as if you had no intent in ever coming back. it’s just like before…but then he wondered, what if he made you stay this time? didn’t let you just up and leave like he did before when you were children?

he was stronger than you, his evol alone gave him an advantage. he could bring you into the house again, force that door shut and locked and make it so you’d have no escape. keep you here until you worked through all your differences.

but then he remembers that look on your face earlier, the sheer, utter disappointment on your face when you learned the truth. caleb hates disappointing you, but he hates seeing you walk away from him perhaps even more.

he couldn’t even form a proper coherent thought though because he noticed you were gone before he could have acted on any of his impulsive desires. he leaned forward, falling slowly onto the ground until his forehead was touching the wooden flooring.

he didn’t know how long he stayed there, but he does recall lily rushing to his side and forcing him up. he didn’t hear anything she was saying, but he could tell she was speaking to him.

“what happened? why were you on the floor?” she asks him, roughly dropping him onto the couch. as much as she wished she didn’t care about his wellbeing since she was so mad a him, it wasn’t in her nature to just leave him on the floor like that.

”did you know?”

“know what?”

“know that he’s leaving, did you know?” the words are hoarse and caleb is now hyper aware of how dry his throat feels.

a look of realization flashes on her face and now it all makes sense now. why he was so stationary on the floor earlier, weighing his body down as she tried moving him from his spot.

“yeah, i knew,” she didn’t bother saying anything more than that, watching him carefully.

“and you didn’t tell me?”

“caleb, respectfully, fuck you,” she said, going to walk away, rolling her eyes at his glare that was now fully directed at her.

“you didn’t tell me, lily. why didn’t you tell me?”

“why is it your business?”

“it’s my business!” he shouts so loud that it makes her jerk backwards in shock. that snaps her out of her stupor, throwing the pillow on the cushions at his face with no remorse and stomping off to her room. “why the fuck didn’t you tell me, lily?! why?!”

“caleb, shut up!” she shouts, going to her room and locking the door behind her. “as if you would’ve cared,”

“i care! i care more than you ever could!” he accuses her, banging his fist on the door to get her to open it, “where is he going? where is he staying now? is it some hotel? just give me a name and i’ll go and fix this all! it’ll be like before, when we were kids! don’t you want me to fix this?”

lily runs a hand over her face and goes to unlock her phone, opening her messenger app. she sends a quick text to zayne, not wanting to stress you out with this right now, and explains to him the situation. she warns him to be more careful now, worried that somehow caleb may put two and two together. just to be cautious of his surroundings and to not tell caleb too much about your current whereabouts.

“i know you know lily, just tell me, c’mon,” his voice is softer now, but she doesn’t give in. she just changes out of her outside clothes, goes to her bed and lays down, waiting for caleb to go away as she scrolls on her phone. she tries to not pay attention to his presence outside her door, but every now and then she hears the doorknob jiggle and she has to fight the urge to shout at him.

zayne looked at his phone screen with furrowed eyebrows, dropping it onto his desk after re-reading the texts a couple of times. he looks over at the schedule for his shift, noting down the fact that they were surprisingly overstaffed for the night. there was another surgeon that was working his area, along with their own team and the patients that were under his care were not high tonight.

he pocketed his phone, fixed his glasses and grabbed all of his belongings. he walked out of his office and made a beeline to yvonne.

“there is an emergency i must attend to, please tell the team i apologize for this, but i really must go,” yvonne didn’t even bother masking her shock. in all of her time working at the hospital, this was the first time zayne was early dismissing himself. of course, it was for an emergency, but that didn’t make it any less odd to see zayne walking away seven hours before his actual shift ended.

there would usually be repercussions done onto whoever was performing such reckless actions, but this was dr. zayne they were talking about. he was too good at his job and attendance for anyone to really say anything.

the doctor walked through the streets, a grocery bag hanging from his nimble fingers and swaying with each step he took. in the bag were a different assortment of items that had little to nothing in common with each other. it was your care package, zayne assuming you needed some support and food from them.

he arrived at his apartment and noticed how quiet it was. he sighed, discarding his jacket and shoes before going to his room to change into more comfortable clothes. he was already very clean and tidy, but living with you after a while, he noticed a certain quirk that you had.

you never set yourself to lay down in bed with your “outside” clothes on. even to just sit on the mattress was unheard of for you.

zayne picked up on this habit himself rather quickly because he agreed with the intention behind it and also because he knew he wouldn’t be allowed to rest with you unless he did change. so he changed first, into his more casual, pajama-esque clothes and knocked on your door.

“[name]? can i come in?”

he heard a sniffle behind the door and he bit the inside of his cheek in frustration. you didn’t deserve to cry, no less due to whatever it is that caleb and you discussed.

“i don’t think i’d be good company right now, zayne,” you honestly tell him, voice somewhat shaky from the behind the door.

“nonsense,” he immediately says in return, “allow me to drop off these things i bought for you, then,”

you sigh, rubbing your sensitive, dried with tears eyes and walk towards the door. twisting the knob slowly, you see zayne standing there with a sad look on his face and a bag full of goodies for you.

“for you,” he holds the bag up to show you and steps into your room. he gently places them onto your table and frowns when he sees you not even have the energy to look into the bag, “do you want to talk about it? i can’t assure you i’d be the best fit for you to tell your feelings to since i don’t think i can offer much wisdom, but i am here for you.”

you look up at him with sad eyes, presenting a deflated and dejected figure that makes you seem smaller than you really are. he hates the sight of you like this, teary eyed, the tip of your nose red, your sleeves damp with tears. he hates to see you so heartbroken.

“no, i think i’ll be fine,” you decided after a moment of silence, “i think i can manage for the rest of the day. i’ll be fine by tomorrow morning,”

“why? do you have important plans tomorrow morning?” he asks, which you shake your head to, “then why do you insist you will be fine by tomorrow? there is no rush for you to force yourself to feel better. we can talk whenever you feel up for it,” zayne’s voice, opposite of yours, was stern and sounded confident.

his kind words make your bottom lip tremble, the utter sincerity already making your eyes tear up once again. he notices it and immediately begins fretting over your reaction, “i’m sorry, i did not mean to make you cry!”

“no, it’s not because of you zayne- well, it is, but they’re not bad tears,” you quickly explain, feeling bad to see him so worried about his wording.

he sighs, in what you assume is relief, as he speaks softly, “tell me about what is bothering you whenever you are ready, [name],” he speaks with authority, as if commanding you to at least listen to his words, “i don’t like seeing you sad,”

the words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can think of reeling them back in, leaving both of you shocked at his sudden confession. he masks it better than you can, though, who looked up at him with your red eyes blown wide.

”that’s really kind of you, zayne,”

“it’s just the truth,” he settles on your bed, looking off to the side as he thinks about how he can make you feel better. if you didn’t want to let out your problems for him to listen to, he supposes distracting you and taking your mind off of the situation at hand could do you some good as well. “when we were kids, i didn’t like seeing you sad either,”

“you seem to remember so much from our childhood while i can’t remember anything,” your pout makes the corners of his lips upturn just the slightest.

“doctor’s memory,” he jokes, tapping the side of his temple with his pointer finger and smiling when he sees it gets you to grin ever so slightly. “when we were children, i found that whenever you got sad, there was almost always the same thing being the root of your sadness. either caleb or lily,”

your eyes watch him carefully as he reminisces on the details of it all, “they were — are — your entire world and i don’t blame you for being so emotionally invested in them,” he speaks carefully, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. but he wants to be honest with you, “the way caleb had a sway on your emotions then and now is hardly any different, but you can change that, [name]. back then, i never said anything because you were happy and it would only be moments of sadness. now, i can no longer bite my tongue. there must be something done to stop your tears from being wasted-” he cuts himself off, finding himself going on a tangent longer than he intended.

it’s silent for a moment and he almost wishes he could just up and walk out of the room right then and there to save himself from his embarrassment. until you chuckle softly and lean back into the pillows behind you.

“you remember a lottt more than i thought,” was the first thing you said, doing little to ease his anxiousness, “but, you’re right, i suppose. i care so much, maybe too much — as caleb said before, it’s coming back to bite me in the ass,”

“caring too much is not the issue,” zayne’s head shakes in disagreement, “it is the fact caleb has abused that care for many years, he expects kindness and special treatment from you despite doing nothing to return those same gestures to you. that is what makes this situation wrong,”

zayne defends you as passionately as if he were defending himself. his eyebrows are furrowed together, as if he is genuinely confused or very frustrated at the situation, hands palming at his knees as he tries to calm his evol from spiking, and his leg jittery the slightest bit as it bounces up and down from the floor.

“you are not the one at fault in this, [name]. i don’t know much about what you two exchanged or said, but i do know that much. there is nothing you could have done that would be considered wrong,” he comforts, looking at you so intensely it almost makes you break eye contact.

“thanks, zayne,” is all you can muster, genuinely speechless at the articulate way zayne defends you while also, shockingly, critiquing caleb rather brutally.

a part of you deep down already knew these things all along, but to hear someone else verbalize them had made you feel levels of validation you didn’t know were possible. the insecurities that caleb had planted in your mind regarding your “clingy” nature and “overbearing” attitude were still present, but to hear zayne speak so casually of that behavior and seemingly validate it definitely made you feel better.

“i’m glad i could be of any help,” he smiles softly at you before standing up, “please, indulge yourself in everything i had bought — it’s all for you,”

you look over at the bag on your table, nodding ever so slightly. “thank you again, i really appreciate it,”

”of course, don’t mention it.”

as the days gradually went by, you and zayne talked about everything that you and caleb had said to each other. to your surprise, instead of remaining as neutral as you expected him to , he was rather biased in your favor and even made several snide comments about caleb and his childish attitude. his expressions were a bit entertaining too, scowls and sneers whenever you mention caleb’s behavior. it was a little refreshing to see him so expressive.

the usual stoic and level-headed zayne was replaced with the best reactive listener, lending you all the support you had needed in youurtimes of vulnerability.

“just to clarify, he does not know you are living with me, right?” zayne asked you one day, in his office while you two were on your lunch break. assuming he was talking about caleb, you nodded your head in confirmation.

“i think it’d be best if he didn’t know,” you murmur, voice trailing off as you tried to imagine caleb finding out. he never really played well with zayne, ever since they were children. the doctor used to view him neutrally, but now he definitely shares his fair amount of distaste towards him. caleb very obviously never liked him.

“just wanted to make sure because yvonne just notified me that a, and i quote, very angry looking, muscular, tall, and handsome man is demanding i speak with him in the lobby, end quote. was just wondering how i should approach the situation is all,” he grabs one of his napkins to wipe his face, then stands up, making you immediately follow.

“if he’s out there, you do not have to talk to him,” you say in a stern voice, “zayne, this is the only chance we get at some peace and quiet in here, don’t you think we should spend the time winding down?”

“we have approximately twenty minutes left of our meal, i plan to make this a quick five. now, i’d ask you to stay here, but it’s unfair if you obey my orders whilst i disregard your own. just please, let me handle it. i’d rather he not focus on you and say something else absurd,” zayne requests, making you roll your eyes and open the door.

you weren’t just going to stand there and be silent if caleb tried to pull some disrespectful behavior, but you’ll try holding your tongue until that moment occurs. zayne rushes to walk in front of you, adjusting his white coat as he does so. he sees caleb before you, tall frame covering the man from your sight.

“where’s [name]?” caleb asks, seemingly not seeing as you followed behind zayne’s much taller figure.

“caleb, this is highly inappropriate,”

“zayne, just answer the question,” caleb groans, stepping forward as if he were trying to walk past zayne. but as he got closer he finally caught sight of your figure, a wide smile stretching across his face as he tried to get to you, “[name]!” he called to you cheerfully.

he was about to reach for you, but zayne had lifted his arms up and blocked him from doing so, “i thought i told you this was inappropriate,”

caleb’s violet eyes narrowed and he glared at zayne with no shame, “this is a really personal matter, dr. zayne,” he spits out the title like venom, “so i suggest you move out of my way and let me talk to him,”

“we have nothing to talk about,” at the sound of your voice, caleb looks like he almost physically goes weak in the knees. he turns to you like a puppy hearing their owner’s voice after a long time and if he had a tail, it’d be going a couple hundred miles an hour right now.

“[name], don’t say that. there’s so much we need to talk about. please?”

“as if i’d allow you to interrupt our work right now,” zayne emphasizes the word ‘work,’ reminding caleb just exactly where he is.

“i couldn’t give a shit if you were working, i need to talk to him. what is your problem, zayne? since when did you even care when i talk to [name]?”

“since it is now interrupting our work schedule,” zayne’s eyes narrow as well, “i care if it involves him regardless,”

caleb’s genuine smile was replaced with a sarcastic, mocking look on his face, “oh you care? well, if you care for your own well-being, then you’d get out of my way,” he goes to shoulder shove zayne out of the way, but the doctor reacts so fast it surprises you.

his hand, which was slightly icy now, lands on caleb’s shoulder and holds him still, “caleb, you have to leave. this is not the place you wish to act out in, our security will be called on you if you take a step further,”

“your security doesn’t scare me,” caleb attempts shaking off zayne’s grip, but it only makes the doctor tighten his hold.

“then i will personally deal with you,”

“oh, you definitely don’t scare me,” caleb turns to zayne, voice lowering so it was only audible to the doctor, “get your hand off of me before i make you a patient. i need to talk to [name] and i’m in no mood to deal with you right now,”

“and [name] so eagerly wishes to speak to you?” zayne’s snide remark is delivered with such harshness you almost flinch for caleb, “he does not want to speak to you,”

“you know what he wants?” caleb’s voice is dangerous now and the room begins to feel heavier, “remind me where were you in our childhood all the other times he needed somebody? were you there?”

”i would have been if i was not shut out,” zayne’s voice raises ever so slightly and that comment makes you tilt your head in confusion.

caleb’s teeth grit in frustration, “know your place,”

“my place is with [name]. you should know yours because i assure it is not with him and it is not here,”

that goads a physical reaction from caleb, who slams his forearm into zayne’s chest and forcefully pushes him into the wall, “what did you just say?”

yvonne is scrambling to call for security, her voice rushed and she gives them your guys’ current location and how they have to hurry. you rush to pry caleb off of zayne, but the doctor raises his hand and shakes his head to prevent you from interfering.

“you are nothing to him, you’re simply his boss. i’m the only person that deserves to say my place is with him. zayne, watch your tongue,” caleb’s words are almost hard to understand with how tight his jaw is clenched. “don’t make me-

“make you what? pin me to a wall and use your evol? you’ve already done that caleb, what more could you possibly want from this entire debacle?”

caleb’s dry laugh echoes in the tense environment, “oh, you don’t want to know what i wish i could do to you. for standing in my way, for not knowing your feeble significance, for stopping me from just talking to [name],” as caleb lists these things out, you feel yourself growing restless in being quiet and inactive.

so you move forward and place both hands on caleb’s shoulders and pull with all your strength to get him off of zayne. it works, pulling him back far enough that you can plant yourself in between him and zayne.

“caleb, security is going to come to escort you out soon and i suggest you collect yourself before they do. unless you wish for more severe measures to be done onto you,” your tone is curt and emotionless, caleb’s widely blown eyes watching you carefully as if he’s trying to memorize your face, mannerisms, and even your vocabulary.

as he watches you turn to zayne and quickly ask if he is alright, he feels his anger be almost pushed past a breaking point. since when did you two care at all for each other? he tries to chalk it up to your gracefully natural caring personality, but something about the way you so softly address zayne that makes him feel unsettled. your kind expression directed at zayne while you could spare him nothing but a stoic glare.

since when was this the way you were going to treat him? he thought a couple of days could have been enough for you to be open to talking to him. is there something he’s missing? why in the world did you suddenly care about zayne and if he was “okay”? what about him? because he’s not okay at all, not since you left him a couple of days ago. he hasn’t known peace since then. so why weren’t you checking up on him?

he feels his hatred for zayne grow every millisecond he watches you fret over him. that should be him who you were so carefully tending to, not zayne.

he can’t even say anything else that could be held liable against him because the uniforms of security guards cut into his vision. their words are muffled to his ears as he watches you guide zayne away, your hand grabbing the doctor’s icy ones with a concerned look on your face. caleb swears he sees red for a split second at your close contact.

something here wasn’t right.

as he was kicked out of the hospital, with little resistance from his end, he feels himself grow more and more focused on your guys’ closeness. you defended zayne, checked in on him, even went out of your way to touch him — while all he got was a glare and words that almost sounded robotic. this wasn’t right. caleb couldn’t accept this. he couldn’t sleep if this is the only thing racing through his mind.

so he put his good snooping stalking skills to use.

the cameras on the perimeter of the hospital were easy for him to gain access to. he’s done worse, anyway. he watches all the employee exits, clicking the one that he sees you and zayne walk out of and he nearly breaks something in his anger when he sees zayne open his car door for you, meanwhile you’re entering his car with a laidback, tired smile.

since when did zayne ever give you rides to and from work? how did that make sense? that never happened even when you were still living in this home of yours. not once did zayne ever step up to drop you off. this was completely unnatural.

caleb shivers at the sight of you climbing into zayne’s car. his mind was racing. was zayne even a safe driver? that car he was driving, caleb didn’t trust it. what was the level of safety that that car even had? it didn’t look safe. and even if it was. caleb did not trust zayne with your safety at all.

you were only safe with him.

it didn’t take caleb much more effort to follow the drive that you two were on. this was needed, anyway. he’d finally be able to find out where you were staying, he could drop by in the morning and fix this with you, a one-on-one conversation.

imagine the look on caleb’s face when he watched you and zayne both leave his car, walk up to an apartment complex’s entrance, take the elevator all the way up to where the private estates were, and then disappear behind the sleek door.

his face was stoic, emotionless as he breathed raggedly, uneven as he tried to control his anger. this was unacceptable. he wasn’t dumb or naive enough to come up with a childish excuse as to why this was happening, why you were brought to zayne’s home. he knew exactly why.

the room began shaking, books and notepads from caleb’s shelves and desks were levitating, sporadically falling and being tossed every which way. a ruckus was being made, loud enough it drew lily out of her room. she was yelling profanities at him for causing such a disturbance in the middle of the night, but then she saw it. the computer screen that had the cctv footage of that familiar hallway. she gulped and looked nervous, something caleb noticed immediately.

“you knew,” he growls, fists clenching at his sides and making the things in his room go even more haywire and move unpredictably through the air. he hasn’t lost control of his evol like this since he was a teenager. coincidentally, you were the cause of that episode as well.

lily immediately shook her head no, suspiciously too fast seeing as caleb didn’t say anything besides the single question.

“you didn’t tell me,” he continues on voice rough as he force the door to shut behind her and effectively trapping her in his room where his own emotional tornado was ripping through all of his belongings. “you knew that he was spending time with [name], living with him,” caleb cuts his own imaginative theories off to prevent himself from actually turning blood hungry, and attempts to move past that detail, “you knew and didn’t tell me? lily, be honest, do you even care for me fixing things with him? do you really just want me to not try fixing this?”

“you had your chance,” she shakily defends herself, but he’s not taking that as an answer so easily.

“i’m making another one,” he says curtly, “you are okay with him living with zayne, of all people?”

“zayne is better suited to take care of him more than you ever could!”

“no one is better for him that me! why does no one understand that?! you think he’s better, you think you’re better?!” caleb’s voice raises with no warning, making lily screw her eyes shut, “lily, you are lucky i think of you as my sister or else you’d be dead to me by now. dead.”

she can’t even bring herself to hide her relief when she feels the door slightly crack open behind her, swinging it open and immediately running away to her own. she is tempted to call you, notify you of how scary caleb’s behavior has turned. but just as she was about to ring you up, she thought about how much you already had on your plate.

she couldn’t afford to add more onto it, especially when you were already so stressed out about caleb to begin with. if she told you everything that happened just now, she’d be forcing you to deal with him when everything was still so fresh. that wasn’t something lily wanted to make you do.

so she’ll stay silent about it for now. but honestly, she doesn’t know how long she could possibly tolerate this aggressive behavior from caleb. the caleb that was once so sweet to her, and you, was seemingly long gone.

the only remedy was you.

caleb knows he shouldn’t be here. knows that it would only make you more angry and annoyed with him if you knew he was here. but he couldn’t help it. ever since he had found out you were now living with zayne, he had grown obsessive in constantly knowing what was going on between you two. he, unfortunately, could not gain access to the inside of zayne’s apartment. but he still was able to see the cameras at the entrance and exit of the apartment building. which is when he would time his departure from his house and go out to follow wherever you two were going, eyes trained on his phone screen as he walked to match your guys’ pace.

he felt sick every time he saw the two of you hang out so casually, so intimately. he learned that you and zayne enjoyed frequently cafes together, so long as there was a dessert menu for zayne.

that big man baby, caleb thought to himself.

you’d always order a drink to keep you energized while zayne got some sugary sweet treat. caleb hands balled into fists as he saw you two share your orders together, you taking bites from zayne’s spoon and zayne sipping directly from your cup. it actually made him feel sick to his stomach.

he watched zayne offer you your napkin, the tiniest smile on his face as he watched you carefully clean your messes up. that was supposed to be him, caleb was the only one meant to be this close to you. he wishes you could have just heard him out and understood his explanation, then you wouldn’t be so far out of reach from him and he wouldn’t be creepily watching you a couple of shops down as you now spent all your free time with zayne.

caleb hated zayne for taking that spot next to you which was meant to only be reserved for him.

after a couple of days of watching and seething where he sat, caleb decided to take the risk in texting you to ask you to talk. he was worried you would block him the instant he sent it, but was easily reminded of your level headed behavior and how that would be very unlike you when he saw that you texted him back hours later.

you agreed. lily offhandedly mentioned to you an episode caleb had that was rather intense and assuming the worst, which is what happened, you assumed that he had seriously scared her in that influx of emotions. that was enough for you to swallow down your current personal feelings and approach this conversation in respect of lily and her peace of mind. caleb’s behavior is inexcusable, especially so when it involves scaring lily.

“caleb, i only came back because we seriously need to talk about you and your behavior,” your voice is stern, that familiar tone you used to use on him when you two were younger. it was the first thing you said to him the moment he walked into the room. not even a simple greeting, he realizes with a devoid look in his eyes.

“do you want any water? anything to eat? i can make your-”

“just please, sit down,”

“you don’t want to talk in your bedroom? somewhere more comfortable?”

“you’re lucky i didn’t choose the restaurant down the street instead of the kitchen, so how about being a little more compliant?”

he didn’t respond to that, gulping and taking the seat at the dinner table that was across from where you were sitting. you followed soon after him, crossing your arms over your chest and leaning into the back of your chair.

”you need to quit taking your frustrations out on things around you. do you understand that you’re scaring lily? and if anything happens to her, anything that you do so much as give her a bad dream at night, i’ll take her away from this place — from you, and make it so you’d never be able to hurt her again,”

“i don’t mean to hurt her, or scare her,” caleb quickly cuts in, trying to make you understand — once again, “i just…get so frustrated sometimes. you’re not here anymore — even though you easily could just come back! — and i don’t know where else to put those feelings,”

you scoff, “right because before you’d just take it all out on me,” your eyebrows furrow and caleb feels hope bloom in his chest as he thinks he sees concern on your face, “caleb, why are you so frustrated? what is making you so angsty all the time? it’s been weeks since we last talked-”

“time doesn’t change anything, it only makes things worse,” he weakly chuckles, almost not believing that you really didn’t understand what your absence does to him. has he not already made it obvious how detrimental you not being here has been on his mental health? “i can’t do anything knowing that you hate me,”

your breath hitches and your demeanor shifts ever so slightly, “caleb, i don’t hate you. i never said that,”

he blinks at you, wide eyed and the smallest quirk on the ends of his mouth, “really?”

your outer expression hardens at his words, catching his tone immediately, “don’t. i thought we already established i was quite far from hating you. but we aren’t here to talk about that-”

“why can’t we?”

”i don’t want to,”

“well, i need to. i need to talk about it with you, [name].” caleb’s breathing is shaky as he hesitantly reaches across the table to hold your hand in his, fingers shaking as he does so, “i don’t understand, you have to make me understand. if you love me, i need to know why you don’t want to be with here, with me? we could be so happy,”

“because it’s not that easy, caleb,” you pull your hands away and caleb almost vocalizes something akin to a whine at the loss of contact, “i can’t just erase my memory of everything you’ve said to me these past couple of years. i love you, i’ve loved you for so long, which is why things can’t just go back to normal as you want them to.”

“if you love me, does seeing me hurt like this not hurt you?”

“don’t you dare try guilting me!”

“i’m not trying to! i’m trying to understand, help me understand,” his mouth gapes open and closed as he thinks about how to word his thoughts, “can’t you at least come home? i can’t stand being physically far from you. we don’t even need to talk or see each other whenever you’re too busy, i just can’t sleep well at night knowing you’re not in the next room over,”

“caleb,” you pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation, “we can’t just pretend that everything is fine and ignore it, which means i can’t just move back into my room. i think i still need space from you. we’re not even here to talk about us, we’re here to talk about you and how your behavior needs to stop,”

“i won’t stop until you come back,” his words are finite, the resolve in his eyes almost scaring you, “i’ll do anything to have you come back to me,”

”scaring and borderline threatening lily will do anything but make me come back,” you remind him, words icy as you hope they sting him where it’ll hurt.

“then how can i make you come back, let you know that i’ll change and be better? how can i prove that to you if you’re not even in the same building as me?” caleb’s love is best translated through physical touch and acts of service, both of which require you to be here in order for him to execute them.

you’re silent and it seems as if you’re genuinely thinking about an answer, which alone makes caleb excited to think he has a chance at winning you back into his arms.

“i’m not moving back in, not for a while at least. i’ve realized that i was limiting myself,” you say with finality, “caleb, i don’t want to be near you right now. i need you to understand that because i feel like, i tell you how i feel and everything is going in one ear and out the other,”

“please, don’t say that. i listen, i do! and i want to try making things better, but you won’t let me. why won’t you let me? why won’t you just come ho-”

“because things are going quite well for me right now! and i know that it’s selfish, but my entire life i’ve been nothing but selfless for you,” your words are unwavering and caleb physically deflates at your words and tone. you sound so excited, so excited talking about how well you’re doing without him. “zayne takes really good care of me, caleb. he’s really attentive and treats me well,”

caleb’s jaw sets into a tight clench, which you are unable to ignore, “and you can’t even be mad at him and how i prefer him right now, because he’s just treating me like a normal person would, how a kind person would. you didn’t treat me with a fraction of care in years that he has in weeks. so i hate to tell you this, but i prefer the company i have with zayne over staying there with you,”

you’re not even calling it your home anymore, caleb thinks with teary eyes. he listened to your ramble, trying his best to ignore the boiling anger and annoyance at how you were so passionately talking about zayne. instead, he tried actually listening to what you were saying and the criticism that followed. he was the one at fault, he understands that. but he just hates that you were relying on someone else as a crutch rather than wanting to come back home and work things out with him, living under the same roof again.

“but i am willing to see you more often so we can work this out. it’s hurting lily a lot, i think, to see us fighting and not talking to each other. and i feel like i need to remind you how your behavior in particular has been awful.” you sigh, crossing your arms over your chest with a frown on your face, “i’m busy with work most days, though, but whenever we have free time-”

”i’ll always be free for you, just call or text me,” caleb nods his head rapidly, not going to reject your proposition even though it is far from the solution he was hoping for. his hands are sweaty in his lap as this entire conversation sent him spiraling where he sat.

“will you stop being such a prick to lily now?” you ask, eyes glaring into his soul. but at least you were looking at him. he smiles softly, nodding his head in obedience. “apologize to her as well, a real sincere one.”

“i will, it wasn’t- i wasn’t thinking straight,” he admits, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about his past behavior. he was just so caught up in trying to reach you again, ensure you came home, he was willing to do that by any means. even if it meant hurting the one other person he held dear to his heart…it seems he has a habit of hurting the people he loves.

“okay, so,” your voice trails off for a couple moments before you finally stand up, “well, i’m gonna head out now,”

caleb is following after you, shooting up from his seat and reaching his hand out, “c’mon, no, stay for dinner at least, please. i haven’t cooked for you and lily in so long, please, just let me make us dinner,”

your eyebrows furrow and you back away, “i really would, caleb, but i promised i’d eat dinner with zayne tonight.”

he huffs in annoyance, “then just invite him, i don’t even care. just, can we please have dinner together tonight? he can be here if you really want him to be,” he can’t believe he’s even saying this right now, but he’s desperate. he really wants you to stay.

you think about it for a couple of moments before nodding in agreement, “i’ll go call him,”

“okay, perfect, let me see what we have in the fridge.” he leaves the living room and heads to the kitchen, the most genuine smile on his face in a long time. he already knows what you guys have to cook as well. it’s the ingredients to all your favorites. he’s been making your comfort meals to comfort himself the past couple of days, attempting to fill the void you left him with.

it was always a depressing sight as well. him sitting alone at the dinner table since lily would take her portion up to her room. he’d be alone, eating the food so slowly that it would usually end up going cold before he even realized it.

but now, his nights of going through that were closer to being done with. even if only just a little bit, you were giving him leeway in making this better, in fixing this situation. and then you two could maybe even be closer than you were before. his face blooms with heat as he thinks about what you two could become, beyond that bond you two shared before. something deeper.

he watches you talk calmly with zayne on the phone, a small smile on your face and his eyebrows furrow at the sight. he has to be patient, he repeats in his head like a mantra. if he is patient and works hard in regaining your trust, your love, your care! then one day, he’ll be the one on that receiving end of your sweet phone calls.

he just has to fight back his selfish desires, suffocate them down into the back of his mind. he’s determined to show you he can change, he can be that man that you need him to be, turn back into the man you love.

caleb is willing to do anything.

#caxasy #lads x male reader #love and deepspace x male reader #x male reader #male reader #caleb male reader #caleb x male reader #caleb x reader #caleb reader #non mc reader #x reader #xia yizhou x male reader #xia yizhou male reader #xia yizhou x reader #lads x reader #love and deepspace x reader #jealous caleb #yandere caleb #possessive caleb

130 notes · View notes

charophyte · 22 days ago

Text

These past couple of weeks I started to draw all of my selfships so I can have art for my selfship website! I have four more to do, but I prioritized these first :3

Eventually I will use these in their own info posts but for now I'll just post about them in little blurbs!

Info under the cut:

Ash and Jotaro

Ash moves out to Florida for a wetlands ecology graduate program, meeting Jotaro during the lowest points in both of their lives. It doesn't take long before Ash realizes that there is more to Jotaro than he's letting on. The pair maintain a distant but passionate relationship as Ash is drawn further and further into Jotaro's life and the lives of Stand users.

Ash, Jotaro, and Val (OC by @titaniumfae)

Everybody Lives AU where Ash is with both of their future partners from 'canon'. The three start a messy but oddly sweet family together, having two kids and working as professors. All of them have to reconcile with their personal issues in order to maintain their lifestyles.

Ash and Noi

Ash is a human scientist who masquerades as a sorcerer in order to study them closely, wanting to invent a method to produce magic without the need for magicians or devils. When they meet Noi, they are intimidated by her, but can't help but grow closer with her as they study each other. They end up irrevocably intertwined with the rest of the En family.

Abel and Ermes (SBR AU)

Abel is down on his luck, trying to make a more honest living by working on a horse ranch owned by Ermes' father. He secretly lives with a curse he inherited from his father, seeking a way to rid himself of it without passing it on. When the ranch threatened financially, the pair join the Steel Ball Run, both with their own hidden ulterior motives for joining.

Altis and Polyphemus

Altis has taken up a life of crime, becoming a thrill seeker due to a curse that has deprived them of sensual pleasure. During a heist gone wrong, they are caught by the cyclops Polyphemus and offers to work in exchange for their own life. In an odd twist of fate, the two relate to each other more than anticipated, both ostracized by their peers after being deceived by someone else.

Cinnabar and Jasper

During the height of the rebellion on the Earth colony, Cinnabar acted as a scourge, Jasper an unstoppable soldier. Now, after the reign of the Diamonds has entered its third Era, the two must seek out new, more peaceful lives. Cinna takes an interest in human culture, making her own transition into Era 3 far more graceful than Jasper's who is still stuck in the past.

29 notes · View notes

noisilyscreechingsong · 5 months ago

Text

Dp x Dc short idea

Jason is Danny’s dad

Warning: Language

Jason had just returned to the family publicly about two weeks ago. It hadn’t even been that long for him to settle before something happened. The press weren’t even off his ass and he has Alfred requesting he return home for an urgent matter immediately, which is butler speak for get your ass here right now!

The family was happy but adjusting to everything. They had mandatory family dinners at least twice a month and voluntarily got together more frequently, mostly just the siblings, but every once in a while Bruce would sneak in for a movie in the family room.

Alfred was pleased with the progress the family has made over the course of many years. It finally felt like everything was coming together and maybe settling down. He knew he thought that too soon when he answered the buzzer at the front gate. They weren’t expecting any visitors and looking at the video feed it was a young woman with hands on her hips glaring back at the camera. There were two large bags with her and surprisingly enough a young child playing in the grass just a short distance behind her.

“Wayne Residence, Alfred Pennyworth speaking, how may I assist you, ma’am?”

“Lettin’ me in for starters,” she says back with venom on her tongue.

“My apologies, but you do not have an appointment.”

She snorts, “Nah, but ya see, I saw that bastard on the news and thought I’d drop off what he gave me.”

To get her point across, she turns and looks back at the little boy not paying her any attention.

“Danny!” She snaps and he jerks his head to look at, who Alfred is assuming is, his mother. “Come here.”

He hops up at his own pace and dusts off the grass on his knees before trotting over. She leans down to angle the young boy away from the camera and pushing back his hair.

He couldn’t see it well before by the way the boy was positioned before, but Alfred could clearly see a prominent patch of white hair on the left lower section by his neck. Just like the white batch on Jason.

“You gonna let us in now?” She asks rudely.

Alfred has already determined he did not like this woman. He still buzzes them in. He contacts Jason immediately followed closely with Bruce.

Alfred then helps the two carry in the bags, while subtly checking for any weapons or explosives. Instead he finds things meant for a child.

He really didn’t like this woman.

Bruce is the first one to arrive down the stairs, pausing towards the bottom. He glances at Alfred and can see the displeasure in the butler’s eyes.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m Bruce Wayne, nice to meet you.”

“Fuckin’ everyone knows who you are, Brucie Wayne,” she huffs with a roll of her eyes.

Bruce glances down at the very young child who is hearing the foul language. He couldn’t be more than five, and completely oblivious as the little boy runs a hand along the wall and looks around at everything. He particularly keeps going back to the shiny chandelier above their heads.

“Who might you be?” He asks the woman, coming back to her as she almost touches the vase on the entry table. She draws her hand back to fold her arms across her chest.

“Grace.”

The name seems ironic compared to her behavior.

“And how can I help you, Miss Grace?”

“Your thought-to-be-dead son left something of his. I’m here to return it.”

It took no detective to determine she was talking about the boy currently using the door frame to the sitting room as leverage to rock back and forth, holding on with his tiny hands. Bruce could see the splash of white among the dark hair from this angle.

Bruce hums.

“Is that so?”

“I’ve already contacted Master Jason. He should be arriving soon. Shall I prepare some refreshments in the drawing room?” Alfred informs.

“Thank you, Alfred. Right this way,” he says to Grace, directing her toward the left while pulling out his phone to ask Tim to prepare the proper equipment downstairs.

“Danny!” The woman calls with impatience. She glares at the little boy who calmly turns to look at her, then skips behind them.

Grace huffs but doesn’t say anything else as they enter the room. She sits herself in the middle of the love seat and Bruce takes one of the chairs across from her. The boy, Danny, explores the room thoroughly, walking around without pattern and investigating every nook and cabinet to keep himself entertained. Very curious little child.

Bruce tries to engage her in conversation to dig up more information, but she firmly wanted to wait for Jason before divulging anything. He did however find out that Danny is four and needs to be enrolled in kindergarten next turn. Grace works night shift but wouldn’t say where.

Alfred came with three waters, one in a smaller plastic cup for Danny, and a plate of crackers and cut up fruit.

Grace eyes the butler with a raised brow. However, the first words Danny has spoken in their presence is a cute, “Thank you, mister,” before munching on a cracker and sipping from his cup. His curious eyes flick over the fruit and wanders over to his mother who picks at a rip in her jeans. He taps her knee and she sighs.

“What is it?”

“What’s that?”

Danny points to the fruit.

“What’s what?”

He creeps forward to point directly at the blackberries mixed in with the blueberries and strawberries.

“Blackberry,” she answers shortly.

“What’s it taste like?”

“Why don’t you try it and find out?”

He must have approved of that suggestion and reaches in to clumsily wrap a tiny hand around one of the dark berries. He flips it over in his hand for a minute, observing it at all angles, feeling the texture of the little bumps, before shoving it in his mouth. Danny leans his body over the coffee table to drag the bowl closer and rummage through it for more goodies.

Really looking at him, Bruce could see Jason’s freckles and the few other similarities like his square jaw and lip shape. He hasn’t seen it yet but Bruce bets Danny has the same crooked grin as his son.

He has the woman’s pale complexion and nose shape. His hair was straight like hers instead of Jason’s curls, but Danny took his dark coloring compared to her light brunette.

The boy was an adorable mix of both his son and this woman. He almost felt the test was unnecessary, but he didn’t stop Alfred from replacing the plastic cup and take it back to the kitchen where he knew it would be handed off to Tim.

Thankfully it was a day where there weren’t any meetings for either of them to attend.

Surprisingly, it isn’t Jason that enters the room first, it’s Damian coming home from school. The fourteen year old, almost fifteen, holds a leash in one hand with Titus standing patiently next to him, ready for his after school walk.

“Father, I heard we have guests.”

The teen stops in the doorway and Danny turns with interest until he spots the animal, then his eyes bug with excitement.

“Mommy, doggie,” he whisper shouts.

She just hums in affirmative, looking the new arrival up and down.

Danny grabs a blackberry from the bowl and trots over to Damian. He holds out the piece of fruit.

“This is a blackberry,” he states proudly.

Damian blinks down at the small child. Titus tilts his head, his nose working hard.

“I’m aware.”

“You can have it, if you let me pet your doggie,” he negotiates like he needed to give something in order to receive permission.

Damian looks up to his father for answers.

“Jason will be here soon,” is what he gets instead, his father’s lips twitch.

Damian looks back down in sudden realization when he sees the similarities between the man and this boy. He sighs tiredly.

“Pennyworth. A wet washcloth if you please.”

“Right away, Master Damian.”

“Next time, you only need to ask to pet Titus, you do not need to give me anything in return,” he tells the child.

Danny looks down at the berry sitting in his stained hands.

“So you don’t want it?”

“…Maybe later.”

“Okay!”

Danny skips back to carefully set the berry off the side on the tray, as if to save it for Damian for later like he said. He jogs the short distance back to them.

“Can I pet your doggie now, please?”

Damian takes the washcloth Alfred hands him with a nod and crouches down to get level with the boy.

“We must wipe our hands first. We don’t want anything sticky in his fur,” he explains as he holds out the washcloth for Danny’s hands.

The four year old looks down at the stains to see what he means and then places his hands on the washcloth for Damian to get the juices off.

The teen then calmly explains how to properly approach a dog he does not know by letting Titus smell the back of his hand first and then to always stay calm and confident.

Titus, the gentle giant that he is, had no problems letting the tiny child pat him and run small fingers through his short fur. It was endearing to hear the giggles when Titus used his big nose to sniff at the child’s face and neck. Sitting down, Titus was taller than the child standing up, which would have been scary to some kids, but Danny seemed to love Titus instantly. The little boy easily telling the dog what a good boy he is even with the dog sitting there doing nothing.

“Titus needs his afternoon walk now,” Damian informs.

Titus stands at the word walk, clearly ready to go.

“Oh, okay.” Danny turns to the big dog to reach up and pat his head twice. “Bye-bye, Titus. Have a good walk.”

The two leave and Danny skips back over to hang over the arm of the love seat his mother sits in, typing on her phone.

“Mommy, did you see the doggie? His name is Titus. He’s a good dog.”

“Uh-huh,” she comments without really listening.

“Do you like dogs, Danny?” Bruce asks with a smile.

Danny looks at him like he forgot the man was there, tilts his head as he studies him for a moment. Bruce waits patiently until Danny deems him okay and perks back up with bright eyes.

“Uh-huh! I love dogs! Mommy says we can’t get one ‘cuz our ‘partment is too small and they’re dirty. You’s guys are lucky,” the boy rambles as he wanders around the coffee table to get closer to Bruce and away from his distracted mother.

“How do you feel about cats? Damian has a black and white one around here somewhere.”

Danny shrugs and they continue to have a rather pleasant conversation about different animals and foods and each of their houses. It takes up the amount of time for Jason to walk through the door, seemingly already informed of the situation from Alfred.

Jason was… flabbergasted. Bewildered. Caught unprepared. He was a lot of words. Mostly he was scared.

Did he really have a child? A son? If that was true then he missed so much. He missed all of his firsts. First words, first steps, first laugh, first everything.

Would the boy even like him? What if he saw all his scars and was scared of him? What if he didn’t want anything to do with Jason after not being in his life this whole time?

But the boy might not be his. There’s that. That could be… Jason didn’t like the disappointment that thought brought.

Grace was the first one he noticed. Her ripped jeans and low cut top being out of place among the antique furniture and Persian rug. She scowls at him, putting her phone down.

“Finally decided to show up?”

He bites back a comment. He broke several traffic laws to get here, it wasn’t his fault he was fourty minutes away at the time he got the call.

He glances over at Bruce and instead his eyes zero in on the child standing by the armchair Bruce was sitting in.

Just one look and he knew the boy was his.

He looks to Bruce anyway for confirmation, since he has no doubt he sent off a sample to Tim hiding like the troll he is in the basement. The man nods. Jason sucks in a deep breath and suddenly needs to sit down.

He sinks heavily in the matching armchair next to Bruce’s, separated only by a round end table. Jason can’t stop staring at those big, blue eyes that are filled with such curiosity and innocence he almost breaks down right then. But he can’t. He has to be strong. He can’t just walk away to get a handle on his emotions. He’s a dad now.

“You’re a hard man to find,” Grace folds her arms over her chest.

“I’ve been busy,” he answers lamely.

She humphs and looks away with a shake of her head.

The boy, Danny Alfred said his name was, creeps around Bruce’s legs to get closer, obviously seeing something in Jason enough to investigate. The room is quiet as they wait to see how Danny will react.

Coming to a stop right before his knees, Danny stares up at the large man with lots of scars and muscles from what he can see. He wasn’t scared. There was just something familiar that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He looks… he looks like… and he also feels almost like…

Furrowing his brows in a pout, he knows his Mommy doesn’t like it when he does it, but he still makes his eyes burn with green.

The man gasps and his eyes also swirl into an angry green.

“Daddy?” Danny asks with hope and joy.

Daddy swallows and then nods.

“Yea, buddy, I’m your dad.”

“Daddy!” The boy cheers, jumping in place with a wide smile. “Daddy! Mommy, look! It’s Daddy!”

Danny wastes no time climbing into the man’s lap and wrapping his arms around him as far as they’ll go (not very far) to press his ear to Jason’s chest over his heart. He’s practically vibrating with excitement and Jason makes sure to set a large hand on his back to hold him close.

“I fuckin’ knew it,” Grace hisses, her eyes wide at the display earlier. Both of their eyes had returned to their calmer blue and teal color, but everyone in the room saw it. “I knew he got it from you.”

His eyes narrow in warning, pulling the boy closer to his chest. He sets a hand over Danny’s exposed ear to protect him from the harsh words he’s probably already heard before.

“Do you have any idea how creepy it is to deal with a tantrum when your kid has fucking glowing green eyes?”

“Did you hit him?” Jason growls, the vibrations seeming to settle Danny even more.

“Please, I’m not my mother,” she dismisses with a sneer.

Could have fooled him.

“Everything was fine until he started doing freaky shit. I don’t know how to raise a meta kid, alright?”

“What are you talking about?”

Now he was just confused. What stuff was Danny doing that Grace thought he was a meta?

“Don’t try to pretend you don’t have powers too,” she points viciously.

“I’m not pretending. I don’t have powers. I don’t have the meta gene. What can he do?” He demands while being transparently clear.

She just glares back at him, obviously not believing him. That didn’t exactly matter at the moment.

“What can he do?” He repeats with emphasis.

She puckers her lips like she’s tasted something sour and then lifts her chin.

“Why doesn’t he just show you, huh? Danny- Would you stop babying him? Danny, show him the things you can do.”

After Jason takes the hand off the boy’s head, Danny turns to his mother warily.

“But you don’t like it,” he reminds, like she forgot.

��He wants to see it, so show him,” she waves a hand at Jason like he just asked for something he would regret.

Danny leans back to look up at his dad.

“You won’t get mad? Or scared?”

He sounds so unsure and scared. As if Jason could ever hate him. Jason really wants to punch something. Preferably something with her face on it.

“I promise I won’t.”

Another parent might have something more profound to say to reassure their child, but Jason was just starting out and honestly, it was more than Bruce would ever say.

Danny thinks for a second before wiggling to get down. He looks back once more at his mother who gives him a ‘get on with it’ motion.

The boy fidgets a little before covering his face with two hands like he’s playing hide and seek, then- disappears. Jason jerks at watching his son blink out of sight like a Martian.

“Boo!” Danny pops back into view, exactly where he was standing before with his hands out like any child on Halloween.

Jason blinks and then starts laughing. This was karma. Danny could literally become invisible, something the Bats train to do for years.

“That was good, buddy,” Jason chuckles, ruffling the kid’s hair.

Danny hesitantly smiles back, a bit of hope and pride in those eyes.

“There’s more,” Grace interrupts, seemingly uneasy with how well Jason reacted.

“Yea?” Jason directs to Danny, his focus on his son.

Danny gives a shaky nod, glancing over worriedly at Bruce who is just silently watching. Jason could see the tension in his shoulders but also the intrigue.

The boy places a hand on the coffee table and focuses on his hand. It took a few minutes of concentration before Danny’s hand went through the table like he was just dunking his hand in a pool instead of through a solid object.

He pulls his hand out and they could see it be slightly translucent.

“That one’s harder to do when I want to,” Danny mumbles.

“You mean it mostly happens on accident?”

Danny nods.

“I drop a lot. And get stuck sometimes.”

Yea, Jason can see how that could be a problem. He can’t imagine how terrified Danny was the first time a body part got stuck in an immovable object. He really wishes he could have been there for him in his panic.

“The last thing is hard too. But I’ve been practicing. Watch!”

Danny jumps once, twice, and on the third time he lingers in the air, coming down slowly like someone in water or astronauts on the moon. Danny pushes off the ground a fourth time, this time floating steadily higher like gravity meant nothing to him.

Despite the kid obviously have done this before and enjoying it with his giggles, Jason stands under him in case he falls. And falls he does. Suddenly, like the strings being cut and gravity taking hold of him again, Danny plummets into Jason waiting arms. The boy grunts on impact and then smiled sheepishly up at his dad.

“Sorry, Daddy. I promise I’m doing better.”

“That’s okay, squirt. I’m glad I was here to catch you.”

Jason plops back into the chair with his child in his lap.

“Anything else up that sleeve of yours?” He teases but is equally as serious.

Danny shakes his head enough to make his hair fluff. Jason looks to Grace for confirmation and sees she is still recovering from Danny’s fall out of the air. How many times has she had to catch him? Or wasn’t able to catch him?

She clears her throat.

“I don’t know if it’s part of it, but he never gets sick. Never even had a cough.”

Children always get sick, that’s how they build immune systems. For Danny to have never gotten even a cold, Jason doesn’t know if it’s worrying or a good thing.

“Any allergies?” Is the first thing on his mind, thinking of what Alfred will need to know.

She shakes her head with a negative hum.

“In one of the bags is a folder with all of his documents. Birth certificate, immunizations, doctor visits. I also made a list of some favorite things and things he hates. It has foods on there too.”

That was… honestly more than he was expecting from her. But it also cements the fact that she intended to drop him off with him and then never see them again. She raised him for four years and she doesn’t even want visitation? Does she not understand there are legal documents she needs to sign to transfer custody properly?

“There are some things you need to sign, but it will take some time to get it sorted,” Bruce chimes in all business.

Long nails swipe through the air like signing her rights away was trivial.

“My phone number and address are on one of the documents. Just tell me when and where.”

She stands to leave and Jason can feel Danny tense up.

“Are we leaving?” He asks worriedly, climbing down from his seat on his dad’s lap. He didn’t want to go.

“You’re staying here. With your dad,” Grace says shortly, not once looking at the boy.

“Are you going home to get the rest of our stuff?”

“No. I’m going home. You’re staying here. End of story.”

Danny visibly thinks on that for a second then scampers after his mother as she leaves the room.

“Is it like Robbie where his mom lives in one ‘partment and his dad lives in a different one?”

Grace sighs and runs a hand through her hair. She’s clearly flustered and is showing it as irritation, but Jason can’t help but trail behind in case she says something that she shouldn’t.

“No, Danny, it’s not like Robbie. I- I am leaving you here and I’m not coming back, okay?”

Jason takes a step forward to draw her attention and send her a look that says ‘choose your words carefully, this is a conversation he will remember for a long time’.

“But- but why? Is it ‘cuz of my things? I’m sorry I scared you, Mommy. I didn’t mean to. I won’t do them again, promise.”

Jason grits his teeth at how desperate his son sounds, trying to keep his mother with him. Even making a promise he can’t keep.

Grace finally looks at her baby. Sees the turmoil and tears in his baby blue eyes. She gets down on her knees to get level and places her hands on his tiny shoulders.

“You will do them again and that’s not a bad thing. Your things are part of you. That’s okay. You’re not in any trouble. I just- I’m in over my head here, Danny. I can’t take care of you the way you should be taken care of, okay? But your dad can, I hope. So I’m leaving you here. With him.”

Danny’s lip wobbles and she has to restrain herself from not hugging him like she always does when he’s upset.

“Then- then you’ll visit, right? Like Chase’s grandma visits him?”

Why is this so hard?

“I don’t think so, baby. I don’t think you’re gonna see me again. I’m sorry.”

Danny is silent for a while. He wipes his eyes and sniffs.

“Are you goin’ ‘way like Jamal’s dad?”

The ten year old in the same building as them lost his dad in a wrong place wrong time type situation. Jamal had told Danny his dad went away forever so he couldn’t see him again. Grace had told him that when people go away forever, they get put among the stars he loves so much to be remembered.

Grace wears such a pained expression Jason half thought she was about to burst into tears.

“Kinda,” she nods. “So give me a big hug, okay?”

Danny was in her arms before she finished speaking. Jason didn’t exactly know why she wanted to stop all contact, but he had a theory that if Danny really was a meta (and with his powers he was leaning toward believing it) then Grace would want to distance herself as much as possible to protect them both. He met her in Crime Alley, he knew they didn’t live in a good spot. If any one of those crooks saw Danny use any of his powers, they could steal him easily from his single mother. She didn’t want to give those kind of people leverage to get Danny and sell him off. She wasn’t trying to be cruel, she was just trying to do what was best for her kid, even if that meant cutting her out of his life.

He had a strange new respect for her he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Grace takes a heavy breath and pulls away showing Danny’s tear stained cheeks. She wipes them like it would do anything.

“I gotta go now, Danny.”

“No,” he cries and Jason’s heart breaks a little more.

“We gotta say goodbye now. Please.”

Grace is just barely hanging on. Jason knows as soon as she walks out that door she’ll break down.

“I don’t want to. Don’t want you to leave,” Danny whines, trying to keep a strong grip on his mother.

She holds his hands in hers and gives him a serious look.

“You’re going to be fine. You’re gonna be just fine with your dad.” She leans in and whispers, “You’re not alone, Danny. You are never alone. Just look up. Look at the stars, baby, and you’ll be okay.”

Danny pouts, but thinks about those words.

“I like the stars,” he mumbles.

She smiles, probably the first one in a while.

“I know you do.”

She kisses his forehead one last time and stands. Danny whines. She steps away.

“Bye-bye, Danny. I- I love you.”

“Mommy,” he cries, tears and snot coming full force now.

Jason can’t take anymore and picks up his son to hold on his hip.

“It’s okay, buddy. I got you,” he assures. He turns to Grace who is having the internal battle of her life in the foyer. “I got him.”

It’s an assurance to her too, that he will take care of Danny, that he would be there for him. It was a promise.

Grace sees it for what it is and leaves out the front door without another word.

Danny screams and cries and struggles, but Jason holds on tight, scared he’ll fall or use his powers to get away and disappear. The man walks back to the drawing room so his son wasn’t staring at the door longingly.

As soon as Jason sits down, Danny struggles harder since they stopped moving. So Jason stands again, adjusting the boy in his arms and starts pacing a path around the room.

Bruce has already disappeared, not knowing what to do with a heartbroken child crying his eyes out. Alfred has cleared away the tray of snacks, leaving two waters on the table, one in a small, plastic cup. Jason spies Damian poke his head in for a second to see what the matter was, and upon seeing no immediate threat went off wherever. Other than that, father and son were alone to figure themselves out.

Danny was going through a lot for a toddler and Jason didn’t exactly know how to handle what happened either. He tried his best with speaking reassurances into the boy’s hair, but he didn’t know if Danny even heard him over his own crying.

It was a rough first meeting to be frank, but after a while (what felt like ages) Danny cried himself to sleep and Jason felt it safe to finally sprawl out on the loveseat with the boy laying on his chest. Compared to a grueling patrol, that was definitely worse. He never wanted to have to go through that again, but knew as a dad it was part of the job description.

#dp x dc #danny phantom #dc x dp #danny fenton #dp x dc crossover #story ideas #bruce wayne #damian wayne #jason todd #Jason is Danny’s dad #Danny is a meta #meta au

3K notes · View notes

enhaflixer · 2 months ago

Text

hogwarts time travel au! traveling to the future and waking up MARRIED PART 1

slytherin!riki x gryffindor!reader PART 2 HERE

warnings: time travel, sex, kissing, lots of kissing, kinda angsty, they have two kids, there are pranks and rivalry and its just real cute im ngl

The library had been blissfully quiet for exactly forty-three minutes. You'd counted. Forty-three minutes of peaceful study, undisturbed concentration, and actual progress on your Transfiguration essay. Which meant you were overdue for—

A paper crane swooped down from nowhere, circling your head three times before unfolding itself atop your carefully organized notes. The parchment fluttered open to reveal a doodle of what appeared to be you with steam coming out of your ears and your hair standing on end. Beneath it, elegant script that you unfortunately recognized immediately:

Looking a bit tense today, Gryffindork. Did someone hide your color-coded study schedule again?

You closed your eyes and counted to ten, but only made it to four before the sound of poorly suppressed laughter broke your concentration. Across the library, lounging in a chair as though he owned the place, sat Nishimura Riki. The bane of your existence for seven consecutive years.

"Real mature," you muttered, crumpling the parchment and tossing it over your shoulder.

The paper froze mid-air, reversed direction, and neatly unfolded itself before landing back on your textbook.

"That's littering, you know," Riki called, just loud enough to make Madam Pince shoot you both a warning glare. "Not very environmentally conscious of you."

You stabbed your quill into your inkpot with unnecessary force. "Some of us are trying to study for our N.E.W.T.s like responsible seventh-years."

Riki stretched, his Slytherin tie deliberately loosened, black hair artfully tousled in that way that made half the school swoon and made you want to hex him bald. "Ah yes, another thrilling evening of revising information you memorized three months ago. Living the dream."

"Not everyone coasts by on natural talent and family connections," you shot back.

Something flashed in his dark eyes – irritation, perhaps – but his smirk never faltered. "Is that what you think? That I don't work for my grades?"

"I think," you said, gathering your belongings with precise movements, "that you spend more time planning elaborate pranks than studying, yet somehow maintain your position as second in our class."

"Second only to you," he said with an exaggerated bow. "Though not for lack of trying."

Your academic rivalry was legendary – seven years of trading the top spot back and forth, never more than a few points separating you. It would have been admirable if he wasn't so insufferable about it.

"Well, some of us can't afford to waste time," you said, shoving your books into your bag.

Riki pushed off his chair and sauntered over, dropping into the seat across from you without invitation. "You know what your problem is?"

"Currently? You're sitting at my table."

He leaned forward, undeterred. "You've forgotten how to have fun. When was the last time you did something just because it made you laugh?"

"I laugh plenty," you insisted, though the defensive tone in your voice betrayed you.

"At jokes in textbooks, maybe." He twirled his wand between his fingers – a nervous habit he'd had since first year. "You're seventeen going on seventy."

"And you're seventeen going on seven," you countered. "Wasn't it your enchanted water balloons that flooded the third floor yesterday?"

His grin widened. "Can't prove it was me."

"Professor Flitwick literally said, 'Impressive charm work, Mr. Nishimura, but please reserve it for your classwork.'"

"He appreciates creativity," Riki shrugged, then lowered his voice conspiratorially. "But that was nothing. Tomorrow's prank will be legendary."

Despite yourself, curiosity piqued. "What are you planning now?"

"Concerned for my academic future?" he teased. "Worried I might finally surpass you if I get expelled?"

"Worried about innocent bystanders," you corrected. "Your last 'legendary' prank turned the entire Ravenclaw Quidditch team purple for a week."

"That was an accident," he protested, though his smile suggested otherwise. "The color was supposed to fade after twenty-four hours."

You rolled your eyes and stood up. "Well, whatever you're planning, leave me out of it. Some of us have actual goals beyond being remembered as Hogwarts' most annoying student."

His laugh followed you as you headed for the exit. "Come on! You know you'd be much happier if you loosened up a little!"

You resolutely ignored him, which was your standard approach to Nishimura Riki. Seven years of practice had proven it was the only way to maintain your sanity.

You should have known ignoring him wouldn't work. It never did.

The next morning, you woke to find every single one of your quills had been enchanted to write nothing but love poems. About him.

Eyes dark as midnight, smile sharp as wit, Nishimura Riki, quite the perfect fit...

"That's IT!" You stormed into the Great Hall, marching directly to the Slytherin table where Riki sat surrounded by his usual admirers. You slammed the offending quill down in front of him.

He looked up with infuriating innocence. "Problem?"

"Fix. My. Quills." Each word came through gritted teeth.

He inspected the quill with exaggerated care. "I'm flattered, truly, but I don't think I inspired this passionate declaration. Perhaps you've been harboring secret feelings?"

Several of his friends snickered. Your cheeks burned, but whether from anger or embarrassment, you refused to analyze.

"This isn't funny," you hissed. "I have a Charms practical in twenty minutes."

"Hmm." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "That is a problem."

"A problem you created!"

"I suppose I could fix it..." he mused, "for a price."

You crossed your arms. "What price?"

His smile turned mischievous. "Admit that I'm the better duelist."

This was an ongoing point of contention. You'd been evenly matched in Defense Against the Dark Arts since third year, much to both your frustrations.

"Never," you declared. "I beat you fair and square last week."

"You caught me off-guard with that modified Impediment Jinx."

"Which is called strategy," you countered. "Something you might understand if you spent more time studying and less time being an insufferable prat."

He clutched his heart dramatically. "You wound me. And here I thought we were friends."

"We are not friends," you said firmly. "We have never been friends."

Something shifted in his expression – so briefly you might have imagined it – before his usual smirk returned. "Fine. I'll fix your quills because I'm magnanimous and mature."

You snorted.

He flicked his wand, muttering an incantation under his breath. "There. Crisis averted. Though I was looking forward to Professor Flitwick reading poetry about my 'raven locks' and 'quicksilver reflexes.'"

"You're impossible," you said, snatching back your quill.

He winked. "Yet somehow you put up with me."

"Not by choice," you grumbled, turning to leave.

"Oh, by the way," he called after you, "pink is definitely your color!"

You frowned, then caught your reflection in a silver platter. Your hair had turned bright, bubblegum pink.

"NISHIMURA!"

It took three counter-charms to fix your hair, making you late for Charms and costing Gryffindor five points. Which was exactly what Riki had intended, no doubt. Your houses were neck-and-neck for the cup, and every point mattered in these final weeks.

Retaliation was necessary. And for once, you decided to beat him at his own game.

It took careful planning, timed precisely to the Slytherin Quidditch practice. A specialized color-changing potion in his shampoo (courtesy of a reluctant Slughorn, who thought you were doing "extra credit research"). By dinner, every Slytherin at the table was staring at Riki's violently pink hair and robes.

The best part? The potion was keyed to only activate for clothing in Slytherin colors and hair of his exact shade. No innocent bystanders.

His expression when he realized what had happened was worth the three nights of sleep you'd sacrificed to perfect the potion.

"Well played," he conceded when he cornered you after dinner, his robes still resolutely pink despite numerous attempts to change them back.

You allowed yourself a satisfied smile. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"This means war, you know." But he didn't sound angry – if anything, he seemed impressed.

"We've been at war since you turned my cauldron into a toad in first year," you reminded him.

"Good times," he sighed nostalgically. "Though I think you're forgetting that I never leave a prank unanswered."

You shrugged. "Do your worst, Nishimura. I'll be ready."

You were not, in fact, ready.

Three days later, whispers followed you through the corridors. Students giggled behind their hands as you passed. Even the professors were giving you strange looks.

It wasn't until Luna Lovegood approached you at lunch with her dreamy expression that you discovered why.

"I think it's very brave of you to be so public with your feelings," she said, patting your hand. "Though the singing Valentine might have been a bit much."

"What singing Valentine?" you asked, a sense of dread building.

She blinked owlishly. "The one you sent to Riki Nishimura this morning. With the cherubs and rose petals? It performed in the middle of the entrance hall."

Your blood ran cold. "I didn't send—"

But Luna had already drifted away, leaving you to face the horrified realization that Riki had successfully framed you for sending him the most over-the-top, public declaration of love in Hogwarts history.

The smug look on his face when you found him confirmed everything.

"That was LOW," you growled, jabbing a finger into his chest. "Even for you."

He captured your finger, gently pushing it away. "Just giving the people what they want. Half the school already thinks we're secretly in love, given how obsessed we are with each other."

"We are NOT—" you spluttered, then lowered your voice when you realized people were watching. "We are not obsessed with each other."

"Seven years of elaborate pranks suggests otherwise," he pointed out.

"Seven years of you being an absolute menace," you corrected.

He leaned against the wall, studying you with unexpected seriousness. "You know, anyone else would have reported me to McGonagall years ago. Yet you always retaliate instead. Why is that?"

The question caught you off guard. Why hadn't you ever reported him? It would have been the sensible thing to do.

"Because," you said finally, "that would be admitting you've won."

His slow smile was different from his usual smirk – smaller, more genuine. "And we can't have that, can we?"

"Never," you agreed, finding yourself smiling back despite everything.

The moment stretched, something unspoken passing between you before you broke the spell. "This isn't over, Nishimura. I'm going to make you regret that Valentine stunt."

"Looking forward to it," he called as you walked away.

Your opportunity came sooner than expected. You discovered quite by accident that Riki had been working on a modified time-distortion spell – not an actual Time-Turner, but a charm that created the illusion of time passing. His plan, according to the notes you'd "borrowed" from his bag during Potions, was to make you think you'd slept through your Arithmancy N.E.W.T.

Clever, but not clever enough.

You spent a week developing a counter-charm, designed to reflect the spell back on its caster. It was advanced magic, beyond N.E.W.T. level really, but the thought of beating Riki at his own game was too tempting to resist.

The night before the Arithmancy exam, you stayed up late in the library, knowing he'd make his move when you were exhausted and vulnerable. Sure enough, just after midnight, you detected the subtle shimmer of disillusionment as he crept toward your table.

You pretended to be dozing on your textbook, wand concealed but ready beneath the pages.

You felt rather than saw the moment he cast the spell – a strange ripple in the air, the whispered Latin incantation. In one fluid motion, you raised your wand and cast your counter-charm.

"Tempus Reflectum!"

Your spells collided in midair with a sound like shattering glass. Golden light erupted between you, blinding in its intensity. You felt a strange pulling sensation behind your navel, similar to a Portkey but stronger, as if something was yanking you through dimensions rather than mere space.

The last thing you saw was Riki's shocked face, his hand reaching toward you as the magic engulfed you both.

Then darkness.

You woke to sunlight on your face and the unfamiliar sensation of high-thread-count sheets against your skin. Your head pounded viciously, like the aftermath of a poorly brewed Wit-Sharpening Potion. Groggily, you rolled over, burying your face in a pillow that smelled of lavender and something else – a woody, spicy scent that was strangely familiar.

"Five more minutes," you mumbled, pulling blankets over your head.

Wait. These weren't your Gryffindor dormitory blankets.

Your eyes snapped open, heart racing. This wasn't your bed in Gryffindor Tower. The room was unfamiliar - spacious with burgundy accents and photographs you didn't recognize.

Worse, you weren't alone.

A warm weight pressed against your side. You turned your head slowly and froze. Nishimura Riki - your sworn enemy - was asleep next to you, his dark hair tousled, face relaxed in sleep, looking several years older than he should.

"What the—" you started, voice dying as your brain struggled to process the impossible sight before you. This wasn't right. This couldn't be happening.

Riki stirred beside you, mumbling something incoherent. His eyes fluttered open, unfocused at first. Then he blinked rapidly, confusion washing over his features as he registered the unfamiliar surroundings. When his gaze finally landed on you, he froze.

"Wait..." he said groggily, rubbing his eyes like he might be dreaming. "What's going on?"

You scrambled backward, nearly falling off the bed in your haste. "Why are you— Where are we—" The questions tumbled over each other, none completing themselves.

Riki seemed equally disoriented, looking down at his own body, touching his face. "I feel... different. Older?" His voice was deeper, his shoulders broader. This wasn't the lanky seventeen-year-old who'd been tormenting you yesterday.

"This isn't Hogwarts," you whispered, taking in the room. "This isn't my dormitory. Why are we in a bed? Together?" Your voice rose with each question.

Realization dawned on his face, horror quickly replacing confusion. "No. No way. Tell me this isn't..."

The fog of sleep dissipated completely, replaced by rising panic. "You!" he finally accused, pointing a shaking finger. "What did you do? Where did you bring us?"

"ME?" Indignation cut through your shock. "You think I did this?" You grabbed a pillow and threw it at his head with all your strength. "This is clearly one of your stupid pranks gone wrong!"

"My pranks are never stupid," he shot back automatically, then looked wildly around the room at the photographs, at the clothing visible in the open wardrobe, at the obvious signs of a shared life. "And I definitely wouldn't prank myself into... whatever this nightmare is."

You noticed a wand on the nightstand - your wand, but somehow more worn - and lunged for it. As you did, something gold caught the light. A wedding ring on your finger.

"No," you whispered, staring at your hand. "No, no, no."

Riki noticed his own matching band and went pale. "This isn't possible."

You rushed to the mirror and gasped. Your reflection was you, but older - mid-twenties at least, with different hair and a confidence in your eyes your seventeen-year-old self had never possessed.

"If this is your idea of funny, Nishimura—" you began, whirling back toward him.

"For the last time, this isn't me!" he snapped, running a hand through his hair. "I was trying to prank you with a time-distortion spell, not..." he gestured between you wildly, "whatever nightmare this is!"

"Time-distortion?" Your eyes narrowed. "That spell you were working on in the library! The one I countered with—"

"You countered it?" Riki jumped to his feet. "What did you use? What exactly did you cast?"

"A reflection charm. It was supposed to bounce your stupid prank back at you!"

"You interfered with experimental magic?" He looked genuinely appalled. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"Oh, that's rich coming from you! The walking disaster who once turned the entire Great Hall ceiling into a swamp!"

"That was brilliant spellwork and you know it!"

Your shouting match escalated until you barely noticed the small figure appearing in the doorway. It wasn't until you heard a heartbroken sob that you both fell silent and turned.

A little girl stood there, maybe three years old, with tears streaming down her chubby cheeks. She had Riki's deep, dark eyes—so dark they were almost black—but your nose and mouth. Her black hair fell in messy waves to her shoulders, with a stubborn cowlick at the crown that somehow looked familiar. She wore mismatched pajamas—a Holyhead Harpies top and bottoms covered in tiny golden snitches. She was clutching a well-loved stuffed dragon, its once-vibrant green scales faded from countless hugs.

"Mama, Dada, no fight," she hiccupped, her lower lip trembling so dramatically that your heart clenched in response. "No fight, please."

The raw distress in her voice hit you like a physical blow. This child—your child, somehow—was devastated by your argument. And though your rational mind insisted she was a stranger, something deeper, more instinctive, recognized her as yours.

You caught Riki's expression changing from confusion to concern, his usual smirk melting away completely. His entire body language transformed in an instant—shoulders relaxing, voice softening to a tone you'd never heard him use before.

"Hey, it's okay," he said gently, approaching her with cautious steps and kneeling down to her level. "We're not fighting. We're just... talking loud."

His hand reached out to smooth her hair in a gesture that seemed so natural it startled you. The tenderness in his touch was nothing like the Riki you knew—the prankster, the rival, the perpetual thorn in your side.

"Loud scary," she whimpered, clutching her dragon tighter. Its head was tucked under her chin in a practiced motion of self-comfort. "Suki no like." Her voice broke on the last word, fresh tears spilling down her already damp cheeks.

Something powerful and overwhelming surged through you—a fierce, protective instinct you'd never felt before. Without thinking, you moved toward her, your body acting before your mind could catch up. It felt like gravity—like you physically couldn't stay across the room while she was crying.

You knelt beside Riki, your shoulders almost touching as you both hunched down to her height. "We're sorry we scared you, Suki," you said, your voice coming out gentle and soothing, as if you'd comforted this child a thousand times before.

She looked up at you with those big, tear-filled eyes—Riki's eyes, unmistakably—and something twisted in your chest. Recognition flashed between you, soul-deep, impossible to explain. You'd never met this child before today, but your heart knew her.

Your hand reached out of its own volition to wipe a tear from her soft cheek. The moment your skin touched hers, a rush of emotion flooded through you—love, protectiveness, and a bone-deep certainty that whatever else was happening, this connection was real.

"Dragon scared too," she said solemnly, holding up the stuffed toy. Now that you looked more closely, you noticed the dragon had a tiny Gryffindor scarf around its neck, clearly handknitted. "Puff needs hugs when scared."

"Puff?" you asked softly.

"Short for Puffskein," Riki explained automatically, then looked surprised at his own knowledge. "I think... I gave it to her on her second birthday."

Suki nodded vigorously. "Daddy said... said Puff keeps bad dreams away."

Your eyes met Riki's over her head, a moment of mutual bewilderment passing between you. How could he know that? How could either of you feel such instant recognition of a child you'd just met?

"Well," you said, finding your voice again. "Puff is right. Hugs do help when you're scared."

Suki looked at you hopefully, arms lifting in an unmistakable request. The gesture was so innocent, so trusting, that you couldn't refuse. You gathered her small body against yours, surprised by how naturally she fit in your arms, how right her weight felt. She smelled of baby shampoo and that indefinable sweet scent that seemed to belong only to children.

When she reached one arm out to include Riki in the hug, you watched his face cycle through confusion, hesitation, and then surrender. He moved closer, completing the circle, his arm brushing yours as he embraced both you and Suki.

For one strange, suspended moment, the three of you stayed like that—a tableau of family comfort that felt both foreign and achingly familiar. You caught Riki's eyes over Suki's head, and the confusion in them mirrored your own, but there was something else there too—a vulnerability you'd never seen before.

Suki's small hand patted your cheek. "Better now?" she asked, her tears already drying as children's often do, her resilience astonishing. She looked between you with such hope, such complete faith that her parents could fix anything, that you felt a lump form in your throat.

"Yes," you managed, though nothing was better, nothing made sense. "Much better."

Riki nodded, his voice slightly hoarse when he added, "All better, Suki."

She beamed then, her whole face lighting up with such joy that it physically hurt to look at. Her smile—your smile, undeniably—transformed her tear-stained face. "Suki fixed it," she declared proudly, patting her own chest. "Suki good helper."

"The best helper," Riki agreed, with a sincerity that sounded strange coming from him.

She wiggled out of the embrace, suddenly energized now that the crisis had passed. "Hungry now," she announced, as if the emotional storm had never happened. "Pancakes? With chocolate?"

"And berries," you found yourself adding, the words coming from nowhere. "You need something healthy with all that chocolate."

"Always saying that," Suki said with a dramatic sigh that was so reminiscent of Riki's that you almost laughed despite everything. "Boring."

Riki smothered what might have been a chuckle. "Some things never change," he murmured, so quietly only you could hear.

Suki grabbed both your hands in her small ones, tugging with surprising strength. "Come on! Sara waiting!"

As she mentioned the other child, another voice called out from somewhere down the hall—a younger, less articulate voice that nevertheless commanded attention.

"MAMA! DADA! UP!"

Riki's eyes met yours again, a silent question passing between you. Neither of you had to say it aloud: how could something feel so wrong and so right at the same time? How could these children be strangers and yet feel like they were pieces of your own heart?

Suki tugged more insistently. "Sara awake. She hungry too."

You allowed yourself to be pulled to your feet, noticing as you rose that Riki's hand lingered near your elbow, steadying you as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He snatched it back when he realized what he was doing, but not before you felt the warmth of his touch—so different from the antagonistic shoves and playful jabs you were used to exchanging.

"We should..." he began awkwardly.

"Yeah," you agreed, equally uncomfortable. "The other one—Sara—she sounds..."

"Impatient," Riki finished, a hint of his usual wry humor returning. "Wonder where she gets that from."

"Certainly not from me," you retorted automatically, falling into your familiar pattern of banter before you could stop yourself.

Suki looked up at you both, her dark eyes narrowing with that uncanny perceptiveness again. "No more fighting," she warned, squeezing your hands. "Promise?"

The way she said it—like she was the parent and you were the children—made something catch in your throat. This tiny person somehow had the power to make you feel both chastised and protected.

"Promise," you said softly, and meant it.

"For now," Riki added with a ghost of his usual mischief, but when Suki's eyes narrowed further, he quickly amended, "I mean, yes, I promise too."

Suki nodded, satisfied with your compliance. "Good," she declared. "Now pancakes."

She pulled you both toward the door with the confidence of someone who knew exactly where she was going and expected the rest of the world to follow. And somehow, despite everything—the confusion, the impossibility of the situation, the fact that you were in a strange house with the person you'd spent seven years despising—you found yourself following her lead.

As you passed through the doorway, your arm brushed against Riki's, and instead of flinching away as you normally would, you felt an odd sense of reassurance from the contact. You were both lost here, both confused, but at least you were lost together.

"Temporary truce?" you whispered to him, just low enough that Suki couldn't hear.

"Absolutely," he agreed, his voice equally soft. "But for the record, I still think this is somehow your fault."

"And I'm certain it's yours," you countered, but there was no real heat in it.

Suki glanced back, caught you whispering, and gave you both a look of such knowing approval that you wondered if she'd somehow orchestrated this whole bizarre situation. For a three-year-old, she seemed remarkably in control.

"Come on, slow pokes!" she called, tugging you forward. "Sara waiting!"

The voice from down the hall called again, more insistently this time:

"DADA! UP NOW!"

You followed in stunned silence, wondering what cosmic joke had landed you in a future where you and Nishimura Riki had not only married but created this earnest little peacemaker and her baby sister.

After a chaotic breakfast involving Sara wearing more pancake than she ate and Suki demonstrating her surprisingly advanced levitation skills ("No, Suki, we don't float the syrup to the ceiling"), you finally managed to settle the children with enchanted coloring books in the living room.

"We have approximately seven minutes before disaster strikes again," Riki muttered, watching Sara scribble with determined focus. "Let's use them wisely."

"We need to search the house," you whispered. "Find anything that might explain what happened or how to reverse it."

You split up, Riki taking the study while you explored the sitting room. The cottage was larger than it appeared from outside—clearly magically extended—with comfortable, lived-in furnishings that blended wizarding and Muggle styles seamlessly.

The walls were covered with photographs—magical ones that moved and Muggle ones that didn't. They told the story of a life you couldn't remember living: graduation from Hogwarts (standing suspiciously close to Riki), your wedding (looking disgustingly happy), Riki in formal Auror robes receiving some kind of commendation, you in professor's robes surrounded by students.

You paused at a series of photos displaying Suki's early days. There was one of you in a hospital bed, looking exhausted but radiant, cradling a newborn bundle while Riki sat beside you, one arm around your shoulders. The look on his face—pure wonder mixed with what could only be described as adoration—was so unlike any expression you'd ever seen him wear that you had to look away.

"Found something," Riki called softly from the study. "Photo albums. Lots of them."

You joined him, settling on the floor as he spread several leather-bound albums before you. Each was meticulously labeled in what appeared to be your handwriting: "Wedding," "Suki's First Year," "Sara's Birth," "Family Holidays."

"This is surreal," you muttered, opening the one labeled "Sara's Birth."

The images inside showed a progression: you with a rounded belly, Riki's hand resting on it with a proud smile; you in labor, gripping Riki's hand so tightly his fingers were white (that one gave you a small satisfaction); and finally, Riki holding newborn Sara, tears streaming unashamedly down his face while Suki peered curiously at her new sister.

"I look...happy," Riki said quietly, touching the edge of the photo.

"We both do," you admitted reluctantly.

You flipped through more pages, watching your impossible family life unfold. Holidays at what appeared to be his parents' home in Japan. Suki's first steps. Sara's naming ceremony.

"Look at this one," Riki said, pointing to a photo of both of you asleep on a couch, Suki as a baby nestled between you. The image captured pure exhaustion, but also undeniable contentment.

"This can't be real," you whispered, but the evidence was overwhelming. "How did we go from hexing each other to...this?"

Riki closed the album carefully. "More importantly, how do we get back to our time?"

You stood abruptly, pacing the study. "There must be something in this house—your research notes, my lesson plans, anything that might explain the magic that sent us here."

"Or how to reverse it," Riki added, rising to his feet.

"Exactly," you agreed, turning too quickly and colliding with him. His hands automatically steadied you, fingers wrapping around your upper arms.

You jerked away. "Don't touch me, Nishimura," you hissed. "Get your filthy fingers off me. God knows where they've been."

Something flickered in his eyes—hurt, perhaps?—before his usual smirk reappeared. He leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "I don't know about God, but judging by these photos, I think I know where you'd like them to be."

Your face burned. "You're disgusting."

"And yet, apparently, you married me," he countered, gesturing to the ring on your finger. "Enthusiastically, from the looks of these albums."

You were about to deliver a scathing retort when a small sniffle from the doorway froze you both. Suki stood there, clutching Puff, her bottom lip wobbling dangerously.

"Mama and Dada fighting again?" she asked, voice trembling.

Pure panic flashed across Riki's face—the same feeling coursing through you. You had exactly two seconds to prevent another meltdown.

Without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around Riki's waist, plastering what you hoped was a convincing smile on your face.

"Not fighting, sweetheart," you said quickly. "Dada and I were just...playing."

Riki, to his credit, recovered quickly. His arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you close against his side.

"That's right," he agreed, smiling down at Suki. "Mama and I were just being silly."

Suki didn't look entirely convinced. "No more loud voices?"

"No more loud voices," you promised.

She studied you both with those unnervingly perceptive eyes, then nodded slowly. "Okay. Sara made mess. Big mess."

You exchanged an alarmed glance with Riki before hurrying to the living room, where you discovered Sara had somehow gotten hold of a pot of Everlasting Ink. The black liquid covered the toddler, the carpet, and most of a nearby armchair.

"How—" you began.

"I left for one minute!" Suki defended herself. "One minute!"

You bit back a laugh at her indignant tone—so reminiscent of your own when dealing with Riki's pranks—and turned to assess the damage.

"I'll take Sara for a bath," Riki offered, gingerly lifting the ink-covered toddler. "You tackle the furniture?"

You nodded, surprised by how easily you both fell into problem-solving mode. "Suki, can you show me where we keep the cleaning supplies?"

The crisis was half-managed when a bright silver light burst through the window. A tabby cat Patronus landed gracefully on the coffee table, fixing you both with a stern, familiar gaze.

"Mr. Nishimura. Miss L/N ]," came Professor McGonagall's voice from the ethereal cat. "Or should I say, Professor and Auror Nishimura? I am aware of your...temporal predicament. Report to my office at Hogwarts immediately. Without the children, if you please. Eight o'clock this evening. Do try not to destroy anything else in the meantime."

The Patronus dissolved, leaving a stunned silence in its wake.

"She knows," you whispered.

"Of course she does," Riki said, Sara squirming in his arms, leaving ink stains on his shirt. "She's McGonagall."

"But how? And what did she mean 'destroy anything else'?" A thought struck you. "Merlin's beard—what if our spell did more than just send us through time? What if we changed something important?"

Riki frowned. "Or broke something magical."

"The timeline itself, perhaps," you suggested, feeling sick.

"Well," he said, shifting Sara to his other hip, "at least we don't have to figure this out alone now."

You looked around at the chaotic scene—the ink-stained room, the confused children, the evidence of a life neither of you remembered building—and felt a wave of hysterical laughter bubble up.

"What's so funny?" Riki asked, eyebrows raised.

"Just picturing McGonagall's face when we have to explain that this all started because you tried to make me miss an exam."

He opened his mouth to argue, then shook his head with a rueful smile. "We are so getting detention. For a month. Possibly the rest of our lives."

Suki tugged at your hand. "Who was the cat lady?"

You knelt down to her level. "That was Headmistress McGonagall. She's...an old friend."

"The scary one from your stories?" Suki asked, eyes wide. "The one who can turn into a cat?"

"Exactly that one," Riki confirmed.

Suki considered this information solemnly. "She mad at you?"

You exchanged a look with Riki. "Probably," you admitted.

"Definitely," he corrected.

"You need timeout?" Suki asked seriously.

This time, when your eyes met Riki's, you couldn't help it—you both burst out laughing, the tension of the morning finally breaking. Suki looked between you, confused but pleased that her parents were laughing instead of fighting.

"Yes, Suki," you managed when you could speak again. "I think Dada and I are in a very long timeout."

"The longest," Riki agreed, his smile—his real smile, not the smirk you were used to—making something flutter strangely in your chest.

You quickly looked away, focusing on the ink stain. Whatever was happening, whatever McGonagall knew, one thing was certain—you needed to fix this mess and get back where you belonged. Before you started getting used to Riki's genuine smile, or the way Suki's hand felt in yours, or the strange sense of rightness that kept creeping in despite your best efforts to ignore it.

Because this wasn't your life. It couldn't be. No matter what the photographs showed or how natural it sometimes felt.

...Could it?

Meeting with McGonagall had been exactly as intimidating as expected. Even as adults—or at least, in adult bodies—you both found yourselves fidgeting under her stern gaze like first-years caught out after curfew.

"Of all the reckless, irresponsible applications of magic," she'd said, pacing her office while portraits of former headmasters watched with varying degrees of amusement. "A temporal displacement caused by a schoolyard rivalry. Albus would have found this terribly entertaining." Her tone made it clear she did not share this sentiment.

McGonagall had explained, with remarkable patience, that your spell collision had created a rare but not unprecedented magical phenomenon. You had essentially switched places with your future selves—who were now presumably navigating your teenage lives at Hogwarts.

"So does that mean we can go back?" you'd asked hopefully.

Her answer had crushed that hope. "The magic will resolve itself naturally in approximately four weeks. Any attempt to force a reversal could cause irreparable damage to both timelines."

"Four WEEKS?" Riki had choked out.

"Consider it an educational opportunity, Mr. Nishimura," McGonagall had replied, the ghost of a smile playing at her lips. "A chance to see where your choices lead. Perhaps it will inspire better decision-making in your youth."

And with that decidedly unhelpful advice, she'd sent you both back to your cottage and your borrowed life, with instructions to maintain your professional obligations and "try not to destroy the timeline."

Which was how you found yourself standing in front of a classroom of third-year students the next morning, trying to remember anything useful about shield charms beyond the basics you'd learned in fifth year.

"Professor?" A Ravenclaw girl in the front row raised her hand. "You said last week we'd be practicing against minor hexes today."

"Right," you said, stalling. "But first, let's review. Can anyone tell me the three key principles of effective shielding?"

Thank Merlin for eager students. As they rattled off answers, you discreetly consulted the lesson plans you'd found in your desk drawer. Apparently, your future self was exceptionally organized—each lesson meticulously planned with notes on individual students' progress.

Meanwhile, Riki had reluctantly departed for the Ministry, armed with a crash course in current Auror protocols courtesy of a surprisingly helpful portrait of a former Head of Magical Law Enforcement hanging in McGonagall's office.

"Just act important and delegate everything," the portrait had advised with a wink. "Standard procedure for department heads after a vacation."

Department head. Apparently, Riki had risen quickly through Auror ranks to lead a specialized unit focused on magical smuggling and illegal enchantments. Your respect for your future husband's abilities had increased considerably—not that you'd admit it aloud.

The day passed in a blur of classes, staff meetings, and trying not to reveal your temporal displacement to colleagues who clearly knew you well. By evening, you were mentally exhausted but strangely exhilarated. You'd always secretly considered teaching, and discovering that you'd achieved that ambition was oddly satisfying.

Riki returned home via Floo just before dinner, looking shell-shocked but intact. The children greeted him with enthusiasm, Suki launching herself at his legs while Sara babbled excitedly from her high chair.

"How was it?" you asked once the initial chaos subsided.

"Terrifying," he admitted quietly, accepting the cup of tea you offered. "I'm apparently in charge of seventeen Aurors and coordinating with magical law enforcement across Europe. Me. The guy who once transfigured all the Slytherin common room furniture into rubber ducks."

"Well, you always were good at transfiguration," you pointed out, surprising yourself with the compliment.

He looked equally surprised. "Did you just acknowledge one of my skills without adding an insult?"

"Don't get used to it." But you found yourself smiling anyway.

Suki, ever watchful, observed this exchange with obvious approval. "Dada catch bad wizards today?" she asked, climbing onto his lap.

"Sort of," Riki answered, automatically adjusting to accommodate her. "Dada mostly signed papers and pretended to know what he was doing."

"That's what you always say," Suki giggled, clearly accustomed to this joke.

You watched them together, struck again by how naturally Riki had adapted to fatherhood. The boy who'd once charmed your quills to write nothing but love poems about himself was now patiently listening to a toddler's detailed description of her day at magical daycare.

"Miss Penny let me feed the pygmy puffs," Suki was explaining earnestly. "And I didn't even squeeze them too hard this time."

"That's my girl," Riki said, genuine pride in his voice. "Always improving."

Later, after you'd managed bathtime (Sara could apparently generate tsunamis with minimal water) and bedtime stories (Suki insisted on three, with different voices for each character), you and Riki faced the awkward reality of sleeping arrangements.

"I'll take the sofa," he offered, hovering in the bedroom doorway.

"Don't be ridiculous," you said practically. "That sofa is barely long enough for Suki. We're adults. We can share a bed without it being... weird."

Both of you knew this was a lie, but neither acknowledged it.

You established firm boundaries—a pillow wall down the center of the mattress and strict adherence to respective sides. You changed in the bathroom, emerging in pajamas you'd found in a drawer (thankfully modest), while Riki wore sweatpants and a t-shirt that he'd clearly transfigured to be baggier than its original fit.

"Goodnight," you said stiffly, turning your back to the pillow barrier.

"Goodnight," he replied from his side. "Try not to snore."

"I do not snore!"

"How would you know? You're asleep when it happens."

Just like that, you were arguing again—the familiar pattern a strange comfort in this unfamiliar situation.

You must have eventually fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew, you were waking to a small voice and the mattress dipping slightly.

"Mama? Dada? Bad dream."

Suki stood beside the bed in her Holyhead Harpies pajamas, Puff clutched tightly to her chest, eyes wide and frightened in the dim wandlight that automatically illuminated at her distress.

Riki sat up immediately, all traces of sleep vanishing. "What kind of bad dream, Suki-bean?"

The casual endearment slipped out so naturally that neither of you remarked on it.

"Monsters," she whispered dramatically. "In the closet. And under bed. And in curtains."

"That's a lot of monsters," you said, sitting up as well.

"So many," she agreed solemnly. "Need both Mama and Dada."

She was already climbing onto the bed, worming her way directly into the center—right over your carefully constructed pillow barrier. She settled between you, looking from one to the other expectantly.

"Both stay," she insisted. "Both keep monsters away."

Riki met your eyes over her head, silently communicating in that strange way you'd developed over the past few days. You nodded slightly.

"We'll both stay," he promised. "No monsters allowed."

"That's right," you agreed. "Mama and Dada are scarier than any monsters."

Suki considered this, then nodded decisively. "Mama has scary voice when Sara draws on walls."

Riki bit back a laugh. "She certainly does."

You elbowed him lightly, but couldn't help smiling. Suki snuggled down between you, one small hand gripping your pajama top, the other clutching Riki's shirt.

"Night-night," she murmured, already drifting back to sleep, secure in the knowledge that her parents would keep her safe.

You lay awake long after her breathing deepened, acutely aware of Riki doing the same on the other side of your daughter. Your daughter. The thought still sent a jolt through you.

"This is strange, isn't it?" he whispered finally. "How quickly this starts feeling..."

"Normal," you finished when he trailed off. "I know."

"I'm not as terrible at this as I would have expected," he admitted.

"And I'm not hexing you every five minutes, which shows remarkable restraint on my part."

His low chuckle vibrated through the mattress. "Perhaps we've matured. A little."

"Apparently enough to create this," you said softly, gently brushing a strand of hair from Suki's forehead.

"She's pretty amazing, isn't she?" The naked pride in his voice made your throat tighten.

"Both of them are."

Silence fell again, but it was different now—contemplative rather than awkward. Eventually, you drifted off to sleep, the last sensation being Suki's warm weight against your side and, just beyond her, the steady rhythm of Riki's breathing.

The next few days established a strange new routine. You taught Defense Against the Dark Arts by day, gradually growing more comfortable as muscle memory and your future self's excellent notes guided you. Your colleagues clearly respected you—Professor Flitwick even mentioned your recent paper on practical defensive applications of Charms work published in Transfiguration Today.

Riki adapted to Auror work with surprising skill, his natural talent for thinking outside conventional boundaries apparently serving him well in investigating magical smuggling operations. He returned home each evening with increasingly fewer looks of panic and more stories of actual accomplishment.

The children attended Little Sorcerers, a magical daycare in Hogsmeade run by a cheerful witch named Penny Clearwater who had apparently been a few years ahead of you at Hogwarts. Suki was in the "Developing Wands" group for magical children showing early signs of ability, while Sara stayed in the "Baby Beasts" room.

Domestic life fell into place with unexpected ease. You discovered household charms you'd never known, apparently perfected by your future self. Riki, much to your surprise, was an excellent cook—another skill his future self had developed.

"My mother always said cooking is just like potions, but with less chance of explosion," he explained one evening as he expertly charmed knives to chop vegetables. "Usually less chance, anyway."

One week into your strange displacement, you were sitting at the kitchen table grading essays while Riki played with the girls in the living room. His patient voice floated through the doorway as he explained, for what must have been the thousandth time, why Sara couldn't ride the toy broomstick Suki had received for her birthday.

"Because she's too little, Suki. Remember when you were her age and tried to ride Uncle Jake's broom? What happened?"

"I falled in rosebushes," Suki recited reluctantly. "And needed ouchie potion."

"Exactly. So Sara needs to wait until she's bigger, just like you did."

You found yourself smiling at the exchange. The Riki you knew from Hogwarts had never shown this kind of patience. But then, you'd never really looked for it either, had you? You'd been so busy competing, bickering, retaliating for pranks, that you'd never considered there might be more to him.

Later that night, after the children were asleep, you found yourself lingering in the study, examining framed certificates and photographs. Your teaching credentials from a specialized Defense mastery program. Riki's Auror certification, with honors. A joint commendation from the Ministry for some collaborative project.

Riki found you there, two mugs of tea in hand. He offered one silently, and you accepted with a nod of thanks.

"Strange to see what we become," he said finally, examining a photo of you both at what appeared to be a Ministry function.

"Not what I expected," you admitted.

"No?"

You gestured around the study. "Look at all this. Professional success. Academic recognition. A home, a family..." You trailed off, not quite able to complete the thought.

Riki did it for you. "Everything we secretly wanted but were too proud to admit?"

You looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"

He shrugged, suddenly looking vulnerable in a way the seventeen-year-old Riki never would have allowed. "I never hated you, you know. I was just..."

"Competitive?" you supplied.

"Immature," he corrected with a rueful smile. "And maybe a little intimidated. You always knew exactly what you wanted and how to get it. I just knew what I didn't want—to follow my father into the diplomatic service, to be serious all the time."

"So you became the class clown instead?"

"I became whatever would get a reaction." His honesty surprised you. "Especially from you."

You weren't ready for this conversation—this glimpse beneath the surface of your carefully maintained animosity. So you deflected.

"Well, apparently it worked out for both of us." You gestured to the evidence of your successful careers. "Though I still can't believe I married someone who once enchanted my hair to glow in the dark during exams."

"In my defense, you looked incredible. Like a vengeful goddess."

Despite yourself, you laughed. "I was so furious. I couldn't figure out how to counter it for three days."

"I know." His smile turned reminiscent. "McGonagall finally took pity on you. But not before I got to admire my handiwork for half a week."

The ease between you was new and unsettling. It felt like a betrayal of your properly antagonistic relationship, yet it also felt... right. As if your bodies remembered a friendship—and more—that your minds hadn't yet experienced.

"We should sleep," you said abruptly, uncomfortable with the direction of your thoughts. "Early classes tomorrow."

Riki nodded, the moment broken. "Right. Of course."

You both headed to the bedroom, maintaining the pretense of the pillow barrier even though Suki had demolished it the past three nights in a row, inevitably climbing into your bed with complaints of monsters, bad dreams, or simply "missing Mama and Dada."

But as you lay in the darkness, listening to Riki's breathing slow on the other side of the useless barrier, you couldn't help wondering: If this was your future—a respected career, beautiful children, and an unexpectedly supportive partner—was it really something you wanted to undo?

The thought followed you into dreams where seventeen-year-old Riki laughed as he turned your hair pink, but adult Riki smiled as he helped you wash it out, his fingers gentle against your scalp and his eyes holding something you weren't ready to name.

Morning sunlight filtered through the curtains as you carefully extracted yourself from the bed, trying not to disturb Riki. Over the past ten days, you'd fallen into an uneasy routine—you rose early to prepare for your classes while he handled the nighttime wake-ups with Sara, who still wasn't sleeping through the night.

Today you had a particularly early staff meeting to review the upcoming O.W.L. practical examinations. You gathered your teaching robes and had just started toward the bathroom when a loud chiming sound filled the room.

A glowing orb materialized above the dresser—something like a remembrall but larger and pulsing with magical energy. You approached it cautiously, poking it with your wand.

The orb expanded, revealing the face of a woman you didn't recognize—though she clearly knew you, judging by her broad smile.

"Fucking finally! I've been trying to reach you since yesterday!" the woman exclaimed. Her curly hair was piled haphazardly atop her head, and she appeared to be wearing pajamas. "Did you get my message about Friday? Because Marcus is taking the kids to his mother's, and I'm desperate for a girls' night."

You froze, desperately trying to place her. This must be a friend of your future self—possibly your best friend, given her casual manner.

"I, um—" you stammered.

"Oh shit, did I wake you? What time is it there?" She squinted, then gasped dramatically. "Is that Riki in bed behind you? Sorry! Although..." her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, "since I've got you both, I might as well ask. That thing you mentioned last month? The tongue thing?"

Your face burned as you realized what kind of "thing" she was referring to.

"I tried it with Marcus but I must be doing something wrong because he just looked confused, and honestly, after three kids you'd think I'd have figured out how to keep things interesting," she continued, seemingly oblivious to your discomfort. "But you always seem to have Riki thoroughly fucked—he practically glows every time I see him—so clearly you're doing something right."

You heard a muffled sound from the bed and glanced back to see Riki stirring, his eyes opening with confusion that quickly transformed to interest as he caught snippets of the conversation.

"I mean," your friend continued, lowering her voice even more, "last time we talked, you said it was all about the pattern you use with your tongue and how you have to maintain eye contact the whole time? And something about using a specific angle? I tried but Marcus kept laughing and saying it tickled."

Riki's eyebrows shot up, and he propped himself on his elbows, now fully awake and listening intently.

"And then you mentioned that thing with the ice cube beforehand? Did you mean like directly on his—"

"I REALLY need to go," you interrupted desperately, but your friend was on a roll.

"—because that seemed extreme, but then again, your sex life is legendary. Remember at New Year's when you two disappeared for an hour and came back looking like you'd been mauled by something? And Riki couldn't stop smirking for the rest of the night? Merlin's balls, whatever you did to him must have been spectacular."

At this point, Riki had both hands clamped over his mouth, his entire body shaking with barely contained laughter.

"Anyway," your friend continued, blissfully unaware of the chaos she was causing, "I just need a refresher. When you grip his thighs, is it more about the pressure or the—"

"FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" you finally shouted, frantically tapping the orb, trying to end the call. "I'M ABOUT TO BE LATE FOR A MEETING!"

"Oh! Sorry!" she said, finally noticing your distress. "But just quickly—that position you mentioned, the one where you—"

"SILENCIO!" you bellowed, finally succeeding in muting her. But the call continued, her lips moving silently as she enthusiastically mimed what appeared to be a particularly athletic maneuver.

Behind you, Riki had lost his battle with composure. He was now howling with laughter, rolling on the bed and clutching his stomach.

"Holy shit," he gasped between fits of hysterical laughter. "Eye contact the whole time? Ice cubes? What the fuck do our future selves get up to?"

You finally located the deactivation rune and jabbed it violently. The orb vanished with a small pop, leaving mortified silence in its wake.

Well, silence except for Riki's continued uncontrollable laughter.

"I will hex you into next week," you threatened, your face burning hot enough to fry an egg.

"The fucking tongue thing!" he wheezed, tears streaming down his face. "And apparently I get 'thoroughly mauled' at New Year's? No wonder future-me always looks so damn pleased with himself!"

"Would you SHUT UP?" you hissed, grabbing a pillow and launching it at his head.

He caught it mid-air, his Quidditch reflexes intact even as he gasped for breath between laughs. "I can't—I can't breathe—"

"Good! Die, then!"

"Aww, don't be embarrassed," he teased, finally regaining some control. "Obviously our future selves enjoy fucking each other. We have two tiny munchkins as proof of that." He gestured toward the nursery with a grin. "Concrete evidence of at least two very successful encounters."

"This isn't funny, you absolute ass!" But your embarrassment was being overtaken by reluctant amusement at the absurdity of the situation.

"It's extremely funny," he countered, sitting up and wiping tears from his eyes. "Your face when she started mimicking that position—"

You launched yourself across the bed, determined to silence him before he could continue. Your hand clamped over his mouth as you landed half on top of him, using your body weight to pin him down.

"Not. Another. Goddamn. Word." You glared down at him, trying to look intimidating despite your undoubtedly bright red face.

His eyes crinkled at the corners, amusement evident even with his mouth covered. But then something shifted in his gaze—the laughter fading into something warmer, more intense. You suddenly became acutely aware of your position: straddling his lap, one hand over his mouth, your faces inches apart.

His breath was warm against your palm. You should move. You should definitely move. But your body seemed frozen, caught in the magnetic pull of his gaze.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached up and wrapped his fingers around your wrist, gently pulling your hand away from his mouth. The casual strength in his grip sent an unexpected shiver down your spine.

"Is this how you keep me thoroughly fucked and satisfied?" he murmured, voice pitched low in a way you'd never heard from seventeen-year-old Riki. "Pinning me down until I submit?"

Your breath caught. The air between you felt charged, crackling with a tension that had nothing to do with your usual animosity.

"I—" Whatever you might have said was lost as a piercing wail erupted from the nursery monitor on the nightstand.

"DAAAAADAAAA!" Sara's voice shattered the moment. "UP! UP NOW!"

Riki closed his eyes briefly, a mixture of frustration and resignation crossing his features. "Fuck. Perfect timing, as always," he muttered.

You scrambled off him, nearly falling in your haste to put distance between your bodies. "I should—shower. Meeting. Early."

Eloquence had apparently abandoned you entirely.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. "I'll check on Sara."

"Right. Good. Yes." You edged toward the bathroom, clutching your teaching robes like a shield.

At the door, he paused, throwing you a look over his shoulder. "You know we're going to have to continue this conversation eventually."

"What conversation?" you asked, aiming for innocent and missing by several miles.

His smile was slow and knowing. "The one about all the ways our future selves apparently enjoy fucking each other. And maybe that tongue thing. Seems like valuable information we shouldn't waste."

With that parting shot, he left to tend to Sara, leaving you leaning weakly against the bathroom door, your heart racing and your mind filled with images you had no business imagining.

You'd just finished putting Sara down for her nap when the distinct crack of apparition sounded from the front garden. Wand instantly in hand—a reflex from your Defense teaching—you moved cautiously toward the window.

A petite Japanese woman in elegant midnight-blue robes stood at your gate, a large ornate box floating beside her. Her hair was pulled into a sleek knot at the nape of her neck, and though she must have been in her fifties, she had the posture of someone half her age.

"Riki!" you called, recognizing her from the family photos. "Your mother's here!"

There was a crash from the kitchen, followed by a string of muffled curses.

"My WHAT?" he hissed, appearing in the doorway with a look of undisguised panic. "Why? Did you know she was coming?"

"How would I know that?" you whispered back frantically.

"You're the one who's apparently been married to me for years! Don't you have a schedule or something?"

Before you could argue further, an imperious knock sounded at the door. You both froze like guilty first-years caught out after curfew.

Suki, oblivious to your distress, came barreling down the hall. "GRANDMA!" she squealed, reaching for the doorknob before either of you could stop her.

The door swung open to reveal Riki's mother, her stern expression instantly transforming into a warm smile at the sight of her granddaughter.

"Suki!" she exclaimed, setting down her floating package to sweep the child into her arms. "Have you been practicing your Japanese?"

"Hai, Grandma!" Suki replied proudly.

"Good girl." She kissed Suki's forehead before setting her down, then turned her attention to you and Riki, who was hovering awkwardly behind you.

"Darling," she greeted you with unexpected warmth, moving forward to embrace you. "You look tired. Is my son helping enough with the children?" She didn't wait for an answer before turning to Riki. "Riki! Your hair is a mess. Are you still sleeping until noon? You have responsibilities now!"

Without warning, she reached up and slapped the back of his head—a feat requiring her to almost stand on tiptoe, given the height difference.

"Mom!" Riki protested, rubbing his head. "It's good to see you too."

"Is it? When was the last time you visited?" She grabbed his ear and tugged, pulling his head down to her level. "Do I need to remind you of the importance of family?"

You bit your lip, trying desperately not to laugh at the sight of fully-grown Auror Riki being treated like a naughty schoolboy. The look of helpless resignation on his face suggested this was a regular occurrence.

"We've been busy with work, Mom," you intervened, taking pity on him. "Please, come in. Would you like some tea?"

She released Riki's ear and beamed at you. "Always so polite. This one knows how to show respect, Riki. You should learn from your wife."

"Yes, Mom," Riki muttered, rubbing his ear.

"Grandma bring presents?" Suki asked hopefully, eyeing the box that had resumed floating beside her grandmother.

"Just one special delivery today," Hana replied, guiding the box into the living room with a flick of her wand. "For your parents."

You led everyone into the kitchen, where you busied yourself preparing tea. Riki, clearly trying to behave, pulled out a chair for his mother.

"Such good manners," Hana observed with mock surprise. "Did your wife teach you that, too?"

"Mom..." Riki began with a long-suffering sigh.

"I'm teasing, Riki," she said, but slapped his arm anyway. "Mostly."

You placed a teacup in front of her, grateful that your future self apparently knew how she took her tea.

"Now," Hana said after taking a delicate sip, "about the item you asked me to find."

You exchanged a quick glance with Riki, neither of you having any idea what she was referring to.

"I've brought it, just as promised," she continued. "Though why you couldn't have asked for it during your visit last month instead of by owl, I don't understand."

"Work has been... unpredictable," you improvised, hoping it was a plausible excuse.

Hana made a dismissive gesture. "Always work with you two. But I suppose that's why you're both so successful." There was genuine pride in her voice, despite her criticisms.

"Suki," she said, turning to her granddaughter who was attempting to climb onto Riki's lap, "would you show me your new drawings? The ones you told Grandma about in your message?"

Suki nodded eagerly. "In my room! I drawed a dragon eating ice cream!"

"Drew, Baby," Riki corrected automatically.

"That's what I said, Daddy," Suki replied with the confidence of a child who could never be wrong. She took her grandmother's hand and began tugging her toward the stairs.

"I'll just be a few minutes," Hana said, allowing herself to be led away. "Riki, make yourself useful and start dinner. Your wife works all day teaching those hopeless children to defend themselves. The least you can do is feed her properly."

"Yes, Mom," Riki replied with practiced patience.

The moment they disappeared upstairs, he turned to you. "What the hell is going on? What did you apparently ask her for?"

"How should I know?" you whispered back. "Maybe it's in that box she brought?"

You both turned to look at the ornate package still floating in the living room. It was wrapped in deep blue silk with silver constellations that actually twinkled and shifted across the fabric.

"Whatever it is, it's fancy," Riki observed. "And apparently important."

"We can't open it until we know what it is," you said reasonably. "Your mother might expect a specific reaction."

"I haven't seen her this... pleasant... in years," Riki admitted. "Usually there's at least twenty minutes of criticism before she even considers smiling."

"She seems quite fond of me," you couldn't help noting with a slight smirk.

"Of course she is," Riki grumbled. "You're exactly the type of person she wanted me to be—studious, responsible, organized. You probably color-code your lesson plans."

"I do not!" you protested, then caught yourself. "Well, future-me might, but that's beside the point."

Before you could continue, Hana reappeared, sans Suki. "She's showing Sara her drawings now," she explained. "That child could talk for England in the Olympics."

"Wonder where she gets that from," you said, giving Riki a pointed look.

Hana laughed. "Exactly what I was thinking." She moved to the box and gestured for you to join her. "Come, I'll show you what I found. Riki, start the rice. The women are talking."

Riki rolled his eyes but obediently moved to the kitchen, muttering something about "impossible women ganging up on him."

Hana drew you to the far side of the living room, lowering her voice. "I wanted to give this to you privately first," she said, untying the silk wrapping. "So you can decide how to present it to him for your anniversary."

Anniversary? Your heart rate picked up. Exactly how close was this supposedly important date?

The silk fell away, revealing a carved wooden box with the Nishimura family crest inlaid in mother-of-pearl. Hana opened it carefully to reveal a stunning platinum pocket watch nestled in velvet.

"It belonged to his grandfather," she explained, lifting it gently. "Riki adored it as a child. Used to beg to hold it, would sit for hours watching the constellation dial shift with the seasons."

She opened the watch's case, revealing an exquisitely detailed night sky in miniature, with tiny stars that glittered and moved in real-time. The craftsmanship was breathtaking.

"His grandfather promised it to him when he became a man worthy of it," Hana continued, a soft smile playing at her lips. "But he passed before Riki finished Hogwarts."

She pressed the watch into your hands. "When you wrote asking if I still had it—if I would consider letting you give it to him for your fifth anniversary—I admit I cried. You understand my son in ways I never could."

Fifth anniversary. The words echoed in your mind. You and Riki had been married for five years in this timeline.

"I..." you began, genuinely moved by both the gift and the sentiment behind it.

"No need for words," Hana said, patting your hand. "I know you'll present it perfectly. Just promise me you'll take a photograph of his face when he sees it."

"I promise," you said sincerely, carefully returning the watch to its case.

"Good. Now hide it away before he—"

"Before I what?" Riki asked, returning from the kitchen with a dish towel over his shoulder.

Hana moved with surprising speed, snatching the box and thrusting it behind you. "Before you stick your nose where it doesn't belong!" she scolded, reaching up to tug his ear again. "Honestly, Riki, eavesdropping at your age!"

"I wasn't—" he protested, bending awkwardly to accommodate her grip on his ear. "Mom, please!"

"Go back to the kitchen," she commanded. "The rice will burn."

"It's in a spelled pot, it can't burn," he argued.

She released his ear only to slap the back of his head again. "Don't contradict your mother. Go. Shoo."

Riki shot you a pleading look, but you merely shrugged, hiding your amusement poorly. He slouched back to the kitchen, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "traitor."

Once he was out of earshot, Hana handed you the box again. "Hide this somewhere he won't look. Do you have such a place?"

You thought quickly. "My lesson plan cabinet. He'd rather face a Hungarian Horntail than look through teaching materials."

Hana nodded approvingly. "Smart girl. This is why I always said you were too good for him."

"I don't know about that," you said, surprising yourself with the sincerity in your voice.

Hana's expression softened. "Neither does he. That's what makes you perfect together." She straightened her robes briskly. "Now, I should supervise his cooking before he ruins dinner. His father was the same way—brilliant man, hopeless with domestic spells."

As she marched toward the kitchen, you heard her exclaim, "Riki! What are you doing to those poor vegetables? Here, let me show you again..."

You slipped the box into your teaching bag, mind reeling. Five years of marriage. A thoughtful anniversary gift that Riki would apparently treasure. A mother-in-law who clearly adored you and whom you called "Mom" with ease.

This life—this future—kept revealing layers that made it harder and harder to dismiss as a nightmare or a prank gone wrong. Because parts of it, if you were being honest with yourself, didn't feel wrong at all.

They felt alarmingly, confusingly right.

From the kitchen came the sound of Riki's protests, followed by his mother's firm instructions and what sounded like another light slap. Despite everything—your displacement in time, your confusion about your feelings, the lingering embarrassment from this morning's call—you found yourself smiling.

Some things, apparently, never changed. Even in a future where everything else had.

Two days after Hana's visit, you were grading essays in the study when the fireplace flared green. Instinctively, you reached for your wand, still not entirely comfortable with the casual magical security of your future home.A man's head appeared in the flames—mid-thirties, with an easy smile and close-cropped hair. "Riki! You home, mate?" he called.

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Thankfully, Riki appeared from the kitchen, and you were surprised to see genuine delight spreading across his face.

"Jake!" He rushed to the fireplace, the dish towel in his hands forgotten. "Merlin, it's good to see you."

The relief in his voice was palpable—this wasn't just recognition of someone from this future timeline, but someone he genuinely knew.

"Good to see me? You saw me three days ago at the office," Jake's floating head laughed. "Listen, just checking about tomorrow night. Seera's been on my case all week about what time you two are arriving."

Riki blinked, momentarily thrown. "Tomorrow night?"

Jake's expression turned exasperated. "The department dinner? Don't tell me you forgot. You RSVPed weeks ago."

"Right. The department dinner," Riki repeated, shooting you a panicked glance.

"Unbelievable," Jake said, but his tone was affectionate rather than annoyed. "I've been reminding you about deadlines since you were nine, and you still forget. Good thing I called. Seera would hex me into next week if you two didn't show—she's been looking forward to catching up with the professor here." He nodded in your direction.

You gave a small wave, noting how Riki seemed to relax into the familiar dynamic with Jake.

"It's just..." Riki began, running a hand through his hair, "with the children and everything—"

"Don't even start," Jake cut him off. "You already arranged for Molly Weasley to watch the girls. You told me yourself last week. Said it was your anniversary gift to yourselves—an evening without sticky fingers and bedtime tantrums."

Your eyes met Riki's, a silent message passing between you. He looked both relieved to be talking to someone from his past and confused by the new information.

"Right," Riki said, recovering his composure. "Sorry, just a long week. What time is it again?"

"Seven for drinks, dinner at eight," Jake replied. "At Theodesia's in Diagon Alley. The private room upstairs." He paused, then added with a knowing smirk, "Formal dress. You know how the boss loves any excuse for everyone to get fancy."

"Great," Riki said with more genuine enthusiasm now. "Looking forward to it."

"You'd better be. Seera's been practicing her speech all week." Jake winked. "She's determined to toast the department's most disgustingly perfect couple on their anniversary milestone."

"Our... right." Riki's hand went back to his hair—a nervous tell you'd noticed over the past weeks. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Excellent! See you both tomorrow, then," Jake said. His head started to withdraw, then popped back. "Oh, and Riki? Wear the blue dress robes. Your wife once told Seera they make your ass look fantastic."

With that parting shot and a laugh, he disappeared, leaving the fireplace ordinary once more.

Riki stared at the empty fireplace for a moment, a complicated mix of emotions crossing his face.

"You know him," you said, not a question but an observation. "From before all this."

"Jake Sim," Riki nodded, sinking onto the sofa beside you. "He lived down the street from us when I was a kid. Seven years older than me, but he always let me tag along when his friends played Quidditch. Taught me how to fly, actually." His voice softened with fondness. "Kind of the big brother I never had."

"That must be nice," you said carefully. "Having someone familiar in all this strangeness."

"It is," he admitted. "Weird to see him so much older, though." He glanced at you. "Apparently he works in the Auror department with me. That explains a lot—he always said he wanted to be an Auror."

"So," you said, returning to practicalities, "department dinner tomorrow."

"Apparently." Riki looked less panicked now, almost reassured by the connection to his past. "Formal. With at least one person I actually know."

"And a toast to our anniversary." You groaned. "Perfect."

"Let me check the details," Riki said, summoning his work organizer from his bag and flipping through to tomorrow's date. "Here it is. 'Annual Auror Division Recognition Dinner. Special achievement acknowledgments.' And in smaller writing: 'Jake and Seera Sim confirmed, Table 3.'"

"Recognition dinner? Is your future self getting an award or something?"

"I have no idea." Riki looked genuinely alarmed by the possibility. "I'm still trying to figure out where to find case files in my office."

You rubbed your temples, feeling a headache forming. "So now we have to attend a formal dinner with people who know us—our future selves—well enough to comment on how your ass looks in dress robes, make anniversary toasts, and possibly present you with some kind of award."

"Don't forget we apparently arranged childcare with Molly Weasley," Riki added. "Whom neither of us has spoken to in this timeline."

"Shit." You dropped your head into your hands. "This is getting more complicated by the day."

Riki was quiet for a moment, then said thoughtfully, "Maybe we should look at this as an opportunity."

You raised your head. "An opportunity for what? Public humiliation?"

"Information gathering," he corrected, looking more confident than he had in days. "Jake knows me—the real me. And he obviously knows our future selves well too. He might be able to help us understand how we ended up... here." He gestured vaguely between you. "Plus, if this is some kind of work event, I might learn more about what my job actually entails."

He had a point. And if you were honest with yourself, you were a bit curious about your social circle in this future life—especially this childhood friend who had clearly remained important to Riki into adulthood.

"Fine," you conceded. "But we need a strategy. Signals if one of us is getting into conversational quicksand."

"I'll step on your foot if you start heading into dangerous territory," Riki suggested.

"And I'll spill my drink on you if you do the same."

"Seems fair," he agreed, then glanced at the clock. "Should we... call Molly? Confirm the childcare arrangement?"

"As much as I'm dreading it, probably," you admitted. "We also need to figure out what to wear to this thing."

Riki stood up. "I'll check the wardrobe for the allegedly ass-flattering blue robes. You handle Molly."

"Why do I get the hard job?" you protested.

"Because she already loves you, Professor," he said with a grin. "Everyone does, apparently."

You threw a quill at him, which he dodged easily as he headed upstairs.

After an awkward but ultimately successful Floo call to Molly Weasley—who indeed seemed already aware of your childcare needs and waved off your attempts to confirm details with a cheerful "Of course, dear, just bring them over before six like usual"—you headed upstairs to assess your own formal wear options.

The master bedroom closet revealed an impressive collection of teaching robes interspersed with more formal attire. Near the back, you found several elegant dress robes and gowns that your seventeen-year-old self would never have imagined owning.

You were examining a particularly stunning deep green gown when Riki emerged from the bathroom, holding up a set of formal midnight-blue dress robes with silver embroidery along the cuffs and collar.

"Found them," he announced. "Think these are the ones that make my ass look fantastic?"

"I wouldn't know," you said primly. "I've never made a habit of assessing that particular feature."

"Liar," he said with a smirk. "I've caught you looking."

"I have not—" you began, then stopped at his triumphant expression. "You're just trying to get a rise out of me!"

"And succeeding." He grinned, then nodded at the green gown in your hands. "That one. It's phenomenal."

You glanced down at the gown, surprised by his comment. "You think?"

"I know." His voice had lost its teasing edge. "You wore something similar to the Yule Ball in fourth year. I remembered thinking..." He trailed off, suddenly looking uncomfortable.

"Thinking what?" you prompted, curious despite yourself.

"Nothing important." He focused intently on his dress robes, inspecting them for non-existent lint. "Just that you looked... nice."

The admission hung in the air between you, unexpectedly weighty. You'd gone to the Yule Ball with a Ravenclaw boy whose name you barely remembered now. You hadn't even realized Riki had noticed you that night.

"Well," you said, trying to sound casual, "I suppose this will do, then."

"We should probably practice," Riki said abruptly.

"Practice what?"

"Acting like... you know. A couple." His cheeks had colored slightly. "If these people know us well, they'll expect certain behaviors. Interactions."

"Like what?" You weren't sure if the flutter in your stomach was anxiety or something else.

"I don't know, exactly. But probably more than the awkward distance we've been maintaining." He gestured between you. "People who've been married for five years don't flinch when they accidentally brush hands passing the salt."

He had a point, loath as you were to admit it. Your attempts at playing happy couple in front of the children were unconvincing enough; fooling adults who knew you well would be even harder.

"What did you have in mind?" you asked cautiously.

"Just... getting more comfortable. Small things." He stepped closer, tentatively reaching for your hand. "May I?"

Your heart stuttered as you nodded, allowing him to take your hand in his. His fingers were warm, slightly calloused—Auror training, perhaps, or years of Quidditch.

"See? Not so terrible." His voice had dropped to a lower register that sent an unexpected shiver through you.

"I suppose not," you managed.

He took another half step closer. "At an event like this, I might... put my arm around you." Slowly, telegraphing his movements, he released your hand and slid his arm around your waist.

You tensed briefly, then made yourself relax into the contact. It felt strange—Nishimura Riki touching you without it being part of some prank or competition—but not unpleasant.

"And you might lean into me a little," he suggested. "Like it's natural."

Hesitantly, you shifted your weight, allowing your body to rest slightly against his. He was solid, warm, his familiar scent—sandalwood and something uniquely him—enveloping you.

"Better," he murmured. "Almost convincing."

You looked up, intending to make some sarcastic remark, but the words died in your throat. His face was much closer than you'd realized, his dark eyes studying you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken.

"People might expect us to..." he began, then paused. "That is, married couples usually..."

"Usually what?" you whispered, though you knew perfectly well what he meant.

His gaze dropped briefly to your lips, then back to your eyes. "Dance," he finished, stepping back abruptly and breaking the moment. "We should practice dancing. For tomorrow."

"Right," you said, ignoring the confusing pang of disappointment. "Dancing. Good idea."

"I'll, um, let you finish looking through your options," he said, backing toward the door with his blue robes still clutched in one hand. "Need to check on the girls anyway."

He disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone with a racing heart and the lingering sensation of his arm around your waist.

You turned back to the closet, fingers brushing against the green fabric of the gown. A formal dinner with colleagues who knew your future selves intimately. An anniversary toast. And Riki in robes specifically noted for how well they fit him.

Tomorrow night promised to be interesting, to say the least.

part 2

TL: @ziiao @seonhoon @beariegyu @somuchdard @ddolleri @zzhengyu @annybah @elairah @dreamy-carat @geniejunn @kristynaaah @zoemeltigloos @mellowgalaxystrawberry @inlovewithningning @vveebee @m3wkledreamy @lovelycassy @highway-143 @koizekomi @tiny-shiny @simbabyikeu @cristy-101 @bloomiize @dearestdreamies @enhaverse713586 @cybe4ss @starniras @wonuziex @sol3chu @simj4k3 @jakewonist @azzy02 @addictedtohobi @cherrybeomm @urmomdotcom5678 @jaeyunsbimbo @yongbokified @changbinniescurlyhair @en-whims

2K notes · View notes

taegimood · 8 months ago

Text

— my girl (c.yj) ♡

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader genre: friends to lovers, non-idol au, smut, fluff rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 6.1k warnings: unprotected sex, pwp (6k but most of it is smut tbh lol), softdom!yeonjun, inexperienced!reader, dry humping, oral + fingering (f receiving), squirting, petnames (baby, princess, doll, good girl, pretty girl), daddy kink (yeonjun refers to himself as daddy), spanking, creampie, multiple orgasms, light choking but not (he doesn’t squeeze), one instance of spitting, it’s established that jun is older than reader so OPPA IS USED AS AN HONORIFIC and idc if people hate it lol as a korean speaker i’m tired of westernizing shit

a/n - pls picture temptation era hair yeonjun 😵‍💫 this is inspired by a dream i had.. dreamt every part in his room up until the actual penetration 😮‍💨 cockblocked by my own brain

masterlist

──────────────────────

yeonjun’s sheets are soft as you sit observing his bedroom, taking note of all the little details that his strong personality shines through, the first time you’ve seen the other side of his door — though how you even got to this point in the first place is still something you’re going over and over in your head as you wait for him to come back.

his soft smile is met with your nervous one as he enters the room with two water bottles in hand, shutting the door quietly behind him — your eyes follow his lithe fingers as he turns the lock — and you watch as he places the drinks on his nightstand before turning to you.

the air suddenly feels much warmer when he sits down on the bed beside you, so close that you’re almost touching, and that fond look on his face only serves to heighten your nerves as you remember that he knows what he’s doing, and you don’t.

well… sort of.

everything happened only a few hours before.

your best friend kai had invited you to hang out with him and his roommates, a chaotic group of guys who you’ve grown to call your friends as well; even yeonjun, who you may or may not have developed the hugest crush on ever from the minute that you’d first met him.

it’d been a few months of back-and-forth, sometimes convinced that it must be mutual and other times doubting your judgement completely — has he always been this flirty, or is it your imagination when his eyes linger just a little too long? — and it was on this fateful day at their apartment when it all fell apart.

(or should you say, all came together).

everyone knows to watch out once beomgyu’s got a couple of drinks in him, so it was only a matter of time before your unlucky day came when he’d decide that you would be his glorious first victim of the afternoon; and that was exactly where you found yourself as he took it upon himself to announce to everyone in the room that you and yeonjun needed to admit you wanna fuck each other already, or else he’d “just have to do something about it himself” (whatever that meant).

to say you wanted to crawl into a ditch and die would be the biggest understatement of the century.

your wide eyes were pinned to the floor as the room erupted into multiple reactions; soobin groaning with a smack upside beomgyu’s head as he scolded the younger not to say stuff like that, taehyun’s “damn,” as he knocked back his beer to cover a laugh, kai burying his head into his hands with a shriek — he swore he didn’t mean to spill your secret to beomgyu a few weeks ago, it just slipped out — and of course, the culprit in the center laughing his ass off unphased.

the only one who had yet to say anything was…

you steeled yourself and glanced up, meeting yeonjun’s eyes that were already watching you from across the living room.

your own widened marginally.

he didn’t look disgusted. he didn’t look put off. in fact, he looked…..

your breath caught. there was a small upturn to his lips, a confirmation, the hint of a smile that solidified as he quirked a brow as if in question. as if he was asking you,

“well? what should we do about it then?”

and everything changed from there.

it hadn’t taken long for beomgyu’s quick-moving attention span to be directed elsewhere thanks to some faithful effort on hyuka’s part, the others following suit to spare you from the spotlight — and it was only about an hour later when you found yourself alone in the kitchen for a breather, the sounds of your friend’s quarreling and laughter slightly less eardrum-shattering now from where you stood leaning against the sink.

a few minutes passed before the sound of someone else slipping into the room grabbed your attention.

your peace quickly morphed into apprehension.

“hi,” yeonjun whispered, a small smile on his face that read somewhere between gentle and amused.

his hands were in his pockets as he came to lean casually against the counter opposite you, head tilted slightly to the side as his eyes trailed over your expression, and you cursed your mouth for going dry at the sight of him.

his simple black tank top and sweatpants combo had you fighting to keep your eyes on his face — his face, pretty and framed so nicely by silky black hair that was grown out quite a bit longer than usual these days, and you wanted nothing more than to run your fingers through it as your thighs rubbed together subconsciously.

“…hi,” you whispered back.

he breathed out a small laugh.

“i wanted to talk to you, but i didn’t want the others to hear.. figured this was a good opportunity when i saw you get up.”

“r-right..”

why am i so awkward? what the fuck? oh god wait why is he coming closer-

your hands gripped the counter behind you as yeonjun stepped forward. his voice was low, quiet, meant only for you as he stood in front of you with a look on his face that had you melting in more ways than one.

“listen... i know that we’ve never talked about this thing between us. i didn’t wanna scare you off by being too forward, but now that beomgyu ran his mouth about it…”

with a feather-light touch, yeonjun reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“well, i’m not gonna deny what he said, and i’m pretty sure that i’m right when i say.. i think you want me the same way that i want you.”

you felt heat running down your entire body like a zap of electricity.

your fried brain didn’t even have the chance to fully process before you heard beomgyu shout from the living room, “hey, what’s taking so long?!” and the scent of yeonjun’s cologne was like a drug as he leaned in and whispered in your ear,

“if you feel ready to see where this goes.. stay here with me when they go out.”

and just like that he was gone, random assortment of snacks in hand to avoid suspicion as he called back to beomgyu, “i’m coming, just couldn’t decide what to eat!”

and you slumped against the counter with legs like jelly.

you received a chorus of groans and boos when you told the guys you were gonna go home instead of joining them elsewhere for dinner and drinks, earning brief suspicion only from taehyun as he eyed you questioningly for a moment — their focus primarily resting on yeonjun’s uncharacteristic opt-out that he’d blamed on a sudden migraine.

you felt ridiculous as you even headed down the elevator with them to the street outside, going out of your way to be believable, rounding the corner towards the subway station until they were well out of sight in the opposite direction before heading back up towards the apartment.

you’d’ve been lying if you said that you didn’t consider leaving yourself; your jittery nerves and quick-beating heart nearly convincing you, until you remembered the look in yeonjun’s eyes and the wetness between your legs returned.

yeonjun, choi yeonjun, one of the most popular and charismatic guys that you know — wants you.

and now here you are on his bed.

when you think about it, in your eyes yeonjun is a lot of things that you’re not; the way he just naturally draws people in, the way he carries himself, always making friends so easily; the fact that he’s genuinely cool, somehow good at everything he does and always looks hot doing it; he’s older than you — not by much, but still — and the number one thing on your mind right now:

he’s experienced.

now you’re no virgin, but your measly 1 past boyfriend is nothing in comparison to the fact that yeonjun’s ability to please a woman is a very well-checked box on his long list of skills (if beomgyu is correct about anything he’s blabbed about, at least. which today so far he seems to be).

and now, as he sits here so close to you with that same look on his face as before, that gentle smile and amused little twinkle in his eyes — well, you know right then that you’re a goner.

“hi,” he whispers, just like he did in the kitchen earlier, and you whisper it back with a shy smile.

this is the first time you’ve ever truly been alone with him.

he looks at you for a few moments, and you wonder if this is what amoebas feel like under a microscope until he places his hand on the bed beside you and rests his weight on it, by default leaning in even closer than before.

“i like you.” he says simply.

in panic mode, you resort to sarcasm - “y-yeah-“ you clear your throat - “um, yeah, i think we established that.”

his laugh sends tingles through you as a real smile not stricken with awkwardness finally blooms on your face, the ice slowly melting for you as you start to remember that right, okay, he’s a friend and not some unreachable deity (for the most part, at least).

“i.. like you too,” you respond sheepishly, and you bite your lip at the underlying shift in his tone as he keeps his eyes locked on yours and says,

“i know.”

the mood has suddenly deepened into something else.

his hand comes up to your cheek, thumb ghosting over your bottom lip as he murmurs, “is this okay?” and you don’t know when his face got so close to yours but your eyes are already threatening to flutter shut as you hum in response, lidded gaze glued to his full, pretty lips that you want so desperately all over your body.

“words, baby.” his voice is a whisper, breath warm against your lips, his own so close now that you can almost feel them —

“y-yes.”

and just like that, choi yeonjun is kissing you.

whatever you thought a real kiss was supposed to feel like, whatever kisses you had felt with your ex —

none of it compared to this.

you feel his smile when you quietly moan, his lips even softer than you had imagined, moving against yours slowly, deliberately, expertly, the hand that had been on your cheek sliding gently to the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss.

his tongue is warm and soft as it traces along your bottom lip, and you don’t care how eager you probably seem as you let it in immediately, trying not to moan again as he slips it past your lips to caress yours; you melt as he sucks lightly on your tongue before giving a teasing, gentle bite to your bottom lip as he pulls away.

you can’t even imagine how dazed you must look — but his knowing smile tells you enough.

you can’t explain it, but in that moment you gain a hunger-fueled confidence. you want to give yeonjun everything.

fuck, you want him bad.

you’re pulling him back to you faster than you can chicken out otherwise, and the pleased noise he makes as you connect your lips again only spurs you on further to do what you’ve been so badly wanting to:

you touch him, hands sliding from his shoulders up to his soft hair, pulling at it gently as his lips travel down your jaw to suckle at the skin of your neck; you moan, freely this time, eyes sliding shut and head tilting back to give him all the access he wants as you wrap an arm around his shoulders and keep him close.

his hand slides around your waist to your lower back as he slowly guides you down to lay against his sheets, your legs instinctively widening for him as he slots his hips between them, and you groan at the bulge now resting comfortably against your clothed core.

it doesn’t take long before he gently rocks his hips forwards.

you whimper, clutching to his tank top as he continues to kiss and suckle along your neck; your legs tighten around his hips and his lips tilt into a smirk against your skin as your body responds to his like it’s what it was made for, and so he does it again, this time continuing into a steady rocking pace.

the hardness of his cock drags deliciously against your center as he rolls his hips into it again and again, slow enough so that you feel everything, but firm enough that it makes your head spin and your thighs twitch with need.

“oppa,” you whisper, pleadingly, and you don’t even know what you’re asking for but you know that you just need more.

“hm?” he hums back, lips still sucking pretty bruises into your neck,

and it’s like he can read your mind as he asks with another smirk against your skin - “want more, baby?”

you nod quickly with a weak, “mhm,” and your heart jumps as his lips move up to your ear.

“tell oppa what you want.”

the husk of his voice sends shivers straight downwards.

he pulls away just enough for you to meet his eyes and you feel like a rabbit hunted down by a fox, but in your case, you never want to escape from his grasp.

“i.. i-i want…”

you can feel the heat blooming in your cheeks, remembering once again how much you haven’t experienced, and you want to tell him exactly where you want him to put his mouth — but instead your eyes avert from his as you mumble in admission,

“i-i’ve never been… well i’ve never been eaten out before. s-so.. um..”

in your peripheral you can see yeonjun’s brows lift to his hairline in disbelief. “what?”

a finger beneath your chin gently draws your gaze back to his and the genuine bewilderment in his eyes is enough to deepen your blush as he asks, “how could that bastard have possibly survived never tasting you?”

your body buzzes with electricity as your eyes widen; there’s a hunger and determination dancing in yeonjun’s stare that you’ve never been looked at with before.

his intensity makes you shiver in anticipation and it’s like you can taste the honey dripping from his words when he says,

“let me make you feel good, baby. let me give you everything that he should’ve.”

your head spins.

you’ve never felt so desired.

the second that you say okay, yeonjun places one last dizzying kiss to your lips before he’s moving down your body, guiding you out of your shirt as he slowly maps out your skin with his lips — you breathe out a sigh at the way his large hands caress you, intentionality in every touch.

eventually he sits up on his knees, pulling back from a kiss to your navel to reach for the hem of your panties. you shiver when his fingers ghost over your hips.

“lift for me,” he instructs softly, and you do, biting your lip as he begins to slowly pull them down, eyes glued to your cunt, and you watch the way his breath hitches in his throat at the strings of wetness that cling to the fabric.

“fuck,” he whispers, practically groans,

“can’t believe no one’s ever tasted such a pretty pussy before… gonna eat you so good, baby..”

you’re going out of your mind with need, his words alone sending another gush of arousal to your heat, your hungry eyes traveling down to trace the imprint of his rock-hard cock in his sweatpants.

teasingly you ghost your foot over it as he slides your panties from your ankles, and his eyes flicker up to yours as you stare back innocently; his gaze narrows and lips quirk up into a lopsided smirk as his warm hands slide up your legs.

“getting brave, now, are we?” he taunts, stopping at your thighs as he wraps his hands around them and spreads your legs open.

slowly he lowers himself between them, all the while keeping his eyes on yours, and your hips jump at the whisper of his breath against your aching cunt when he says,

“better be careful, doll… any game you try to play, i can play it better.”

and when his fingers spread you open and his lips kiss your clit, you already know that he’s ruined you for any other man.

how could you even dream of anyone else when the tip of yeonjun’s velvety tongue slips out to trace teasingly up and down your slit, or when the pad of his finger circles so lightly around your leaking hole that you might even be imagining it?

no, there’s no way you could be imagining this, not as the warmth of his mouth caresses you as he closes his lips around your clit and gently begins to suck, your head tipping back with a shudder as you whine at the feeling.

“eyes on me, princess,” he murmurs against your cunt, and when you manage to bring your gaze back to his, the sight before you is sinful.

his foxlike eyes dark and dangerous and twinkling as he watches you through his lashes, pretty lips forming a smirk that you can only feel and not see as he whispers “good girl,” - before the next thing you know, his tongue is flattening against you as he licks a firm stripe up your pussy, big hands keeping your jerking hips in place as he begins to ravish you, sucking, licking, kissing, groaning shamelessly at the taste of you and sending vibrations straight through your quivering core as you unravel beneath his touch.

“so fucking good,” he moans, sliding a finger inside of you with ease as he begins to pump it steadily in and out, practically making out with your pussy as you whimper, hands instinctively flying to his hair — you almost pull them away when suddenly he adds another digit, the stretch causing your fingers to tighten in his dark strands as your hips instinctively grind forwards against his mouth.

you’re about to apologize when yeonjun moans even deeper than before.

“that’s it, baby,” he grunts, “use my face. want it so bad, don’t you? go ahead and chase it, cum all over daddy’s tongue.”

something unholy snaps inside of you at that.

“f-fuck-” you cry, doing exactly as he said; you can’t help it as you grind your clit down on his warm tongue over and over and over, hands tightening in his hair as his fingers work impossibly faster, and a new sensation takes over you as the dam breaks and you reach your peak;

you don’t realize what’s happening at first as you’re carried through the most mind-blowing orgasm, until you feel the unusual amount of wetness soaking his sheets and hear yeonjun groaning “fuck, fuck, that’s it, baby, that’s it -“ and he’s three fingers deep as you realize you’re squirting.

it’s as though he can read your body like a book the way he can tell when it’s suddenly too much, his pace slowing gradually until he gently slides his fingers from your sopping hole, placing a final feather-light kiss to your clit before his lips and hands move to soothe your quivering thighs.

“you did so good, baby, holy shit..” the bottom half of his face is soaked in your juices as he mouths along your skin, hands massaging and caressing whatever his lips aren’t kissing;

you’re still bewildered, and can feel the raging blush on your cheeks as you’re quick to blurt in embarrassment, “i-i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to-“

“y/n.” yeonjun looks up. “seriously, that was so fucking hot, you have no idea.”

you can see in his eyes that he’s telling the truth.

“r-really?”

he laughs, finally sitting up; “baby, i- fuck, like, you actually have no fucking idea how sexy you are.” he pushes his hair out of his face and it’s only then that you realize how heavy he’s breathing, the bulge straining against his pants somehow a million times more prominent than it was earlier.

“y/n, i’m so turned on right now that i can hardly think straight. please-“

you meet his eyes again quickly,

“please, i need to be inside you.”

apparently today is the day that you learn just how crazy choi yeonjun makes you, because despite your still-twitching thighs and your pussy so sensitive that you’re sure a slight breeze would send it into overdrive, your body is quick to betray you at his toe-curling words when your walls clench from the emptiness and a fresh wave of arousal gushes from your soaked heat.

“if you don’t fuck me right now i’m gonna go clinically insane.”

his brows lift only for a moment before he’s laughing, swooping down to catch your lips in a kiss. “well we can’t have that, now, can we?”

he gets off the bed, your eyes hungrily tracking his every move as he peels the tank top from his torso and casts it to the ground; “fuck,” you whisper as your gaze trails down the defined ridges of his abs; “fuck,” you groan when he hooks his thumbs around the waistband of his sweatpants and pulls them down with his boxers in one go.

his cock is long and slender and flushed pink, the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen as you imagine the weight of it in your mouth.

if it were anyone else, you’d wanna slap the shit-eating grin right off of his face, but this is yeonjun, and the fact that he knows he’s all that only makes him 10x hotter.

you can’t tear your eyes away from his length as you sit up on your elbows to watch, and he enjoys it, pumping himself in his hand and smearing the pre-cum around his tip with a satisfied hum.

but as he reaches for the condoms in his desk drawer, you surprise both him and yourself when you stop him.

“no.”

he pauses, looking over his shoulder at you with quirked brows —

“want you to fuck me raw.”

his mouth goes dry. you can see the fire dancing in his eyes as he slowly straightens, keeping himself under control as he asks carefully,

“are you sure?”

you bite your lip and quickly nod. “wanna feel you,” you breathe, and that does it for yeonjun as he’s back on top of you in an instant, his lips pressing to yours in a searing kiss as you moan around his swirling tongue.

his hand is on your throat, not squeezing, just resting there as if to say you’re mine, and you whine deep in your chest when you feel the tip of his cock sliding through your slippery folds.

“gonna fuck this pretty pussy so full of my cum that it’ll be dripping out of it for days,” he rasps as he taps the head of his cock repeatedly over your clit, the lewd noise met with your whimpers as you grasp at his bicep.

“please,” you whine, “want it, please-!”

his hand slides from your neck down to squeeze your tit as he sits up and hooks one of your legs over his shoulder with his free hand.

“so good for me,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded and lusting as he looks down at you, dragging his shaft back and forth along your slick pussy; “such a good girl, begging for daddy.”

and when he finally pushes the head of his cock past your entrance, stretching you open as he sinks inside, stars explode behind your eyes and you nearly cum again right there on the spot.

“fuuck..” he groans in a drawn-out moan, eyes sliding shut and head tipping back as your walls suck him in, mouth falling open before he catches his plush bottom lip between his teeth and looks back down at you through hazy eyes, giving another rough squeeze to your tit in his grasp.

he slides his hand down to press against your lower belly as he bottoms out, your hips twitching as you gasp, and with his other hand he grips your leg that’s slung over his shoulder as he begins to grind his hips against yours.

you can’t breathe, can’t speak, overwhelmed by how fucking good it all feels, the head of his cock massaging places inside of you that you didn’t even know existed as he rolls his hips over and over, whispering fucked-out nothings;

how tight you are, how good you feel, how he’s gonna make you forget your own name by tomorrow.

and when he starts really moving, hips separating from yours only to connect again with a lewd slap of skin on skin each time he delivers a slow, firm thrust to your cunt, holding you in place so you don’t jolt up the bed — well, you never knew that something so delicious existed, and now that you’ve had a taste, you’re already rendered insatiable.

you paw at any part of him that you can reach, hands finding purchase on his thighs as his pace picks up into a steady rhythm, your lips moaning and pleading and begging around words that you can hardly get out of your mouth.

“look at you,” yeonjun coos breathlessly, “so drunk on my cock already.. perfect pussy made just for me, hm? taking daddy so well? good baby.”

he looks as blissed out as you feel, face wracked in pleasure as he picks up the pace, his hand so large where it still presses over your lower belly that his thumb is able to reach your clit, and the added stimulation along with the pressure of his palm sends your head lolling as you twitch and tremble underneath him.

“j-jjunie..!” you whimper, and you can’t help the nickname from slipping between your lips; you’ve never called him so intimately before, never said his name so freely, but your accidental drop of honorifics seems to stir something inside of him as he groans and fucks you harder;

“say that again,” he grunts as you gasp out from the sudden increase in pace.

“jjunie,” you keen immediately, gripping the sheets, gripping his arms, gripping anything as a muttered curse leaves his lips and his thumb circles faster around your aching clit.

“love it when you say my name, fuck,” he groans, hips slamming into yours and jolting you like a ragdoll as you cry out for him, the knot in your stomach tightening so fast that you swear it’s about to snap, and when he leans forward with your leg still gripped over his shoulder and his cock pounding into you at a far deeper angle than before, fireworks fill your vision as you cum around him harder than you’ve ever came in your life.

“yes, yes, yes, fuck, that’s it, cream on my cock, baby, fuck you’re so- s-so tight, fuck- just like that, let go for me, baby, good girl-“

yeonjun’s voice sounds far away as you spasm around him, his thrusts growing sloppier as your cunt clenches him so tight that it nearly forces him out; he lowers your leg back down to the bed and slows down a little to let you catch your breath but he doesn’t stop, and your watery whimpers are like music to his ears as you clutch onto him desperately.

“t-too much, too much-!” you hiccup, tears spilling from your eyes at all the overwhelming sensations, but you don’t actually want him to stop and he knows it too — he coos at you, hand sliding up to rest on your throat again as he leans down and licks a stripe up your neck to your ear.

“you can give me one more, baby, can’t you?”

a shiver rolls down your spine at the devilish smile in his voice, sweet like honey as he catches your earlobe between his teeth.

“one more so daddy can stuff you nice and full.”

your pussy clenches. “w-want your cum,” you whimper dumbly in response, too fucked out to think of anything else, and yeonjun smiles as he leans back and runs his hands down your body until they reach your hips and squeeze.

“i know,” his thrusts are still steady as he watches you with twinkling eyes; “and i’m gonna give it to you.”

your eyes widen in protest as he suddenly slides out of you without a warning, but the words die in your throat and are replaced with a squeak of surprise when he flips you over onto your stomach instead.

“ass up for me, pretty girl.”

you obey immediately with what strength you have left in your shaky limbs, a quiet whine escaping your throat over not being able to see or touch him anymore.

his little laugh from behind you indicates that he caught it.

“don’t worry, baby,” he soothes as his hands massage over your ass, “we have all the time in the world.”

your heart doesn’t even have time to skip a beat at the promise of his words when suddenly his tongue is on your pussy, your knees nearly buckling at the heat of his mouth as he licks from your clit up to your fluttering hole, and you gasp as he spits on it before his cock enters you fully in one single thrust.

you cry out, knees buckling for real this time as he holds you up, sheets crumpled in your fists as his hips immediately pick up into a quick, dizzying pace.

“love the way you fall apart around me,” he murmurs from behind you, squeezing your ass, “love how you take me so well…”

you want to touch him so badly, want to see the pleasure pooling in his eyes; you don’t have time to respond before he lands a smack on your ass, your surprised squeak spurring him on as he does it again, drilling into your cute little hole like it was made just for him as he breathes out a moan.

from this angle he can see the way your pussy swallows him so hungrily, and his grip on your hips tightens as he drags you back and forth on his cock.

“love.. l-love your.. love this so much… w-wanna be yours…”

he almost misses your dazed mumbling over the loud sound of his hips slapping lewdly against your ass, but he makes out what you said, heart swelling in his chest and cock simultaneously twitching inside of you as he leans forward, his palm sliding up along your spine to brush the hair from your fucked-out face as he pushes your body down against the sheets, chest pressed to your back now and breath caressing your ear as he continues rocking his hips even deeper.

“you’re mine, baby, you’re mine..” he whispers between kisses along your jaw, a reassurance, your soft whimper of a response causing him to bite back a smile as he continues,

“i’ve wanted you for so long.. can’t believe i finally get to have you.” his hand slips beneath you to toy with your throbbing clit, and your ass grinds back against him as a result as you moan wantonly into his sheets.

“i’ve been yours since the.. fuck.. since the second i s-saw you..fuck, p-please don’t stop..!”

your hips are moving with his now as he works your clit faster, mustering your strength and pushing your weight back as you desperately try to fuck yourself on his cock, on his fingers, chasing the rising wave in your belly that’s threatening to break as he meets your quickening movements with his own.

“touch yourself for me, baby,” he murmurs in your ear before removing his hand and propping himself up on his forearms, allowing for a more concentrated angle as he ruts into you, your choked moan muffled by the sheets as you immediately slide one hand down to rub rapidly at your clit, your other one weakly moving to tangle your fingers with his the best that you can;

“gonna cum, gonna cum,” you whimper, drool pooling at your lips, the scent of yeonjun’s cologne and the weight of his body on yours like pure intoxication as he fucks you harder, breaths heavy and staggering in your ear as he grunts,

“cum for me, baby, need to feel it, cum all over my fucking cock-“

and when your third orgasm washes over you, you’re too weak to do anything but let it, body going limp as it wracks over you in pure bliss, the warm feeling of your clenching walls finally sending yeonjun over the edge this time as he shoots his cum into you with a loud and drawn-out moan, voice breaking as he spews filthy words and incoherent curses; he presses his hips impossibly deep against yours before stuttering into sloppy thrusts to fuck himself through the rest of his orgasm as your fluttering pussy milks his cock of every last drop.

the room grows silent save for your heavy breaths, both of your chests heaving as his forehead slumps down to rest against your back; you didn’t realize how tightly you were holding onto his hand until you carefully untangle your fingers from his.

he hisses from the sensitivity as he slides his twitching length out of you.

you look at yeonjun as he rolls off of your back and flops exhaustedly onto his side next to you, and when he meets your eyes, there’s only a passing moment of silence before you both giggle.

his smile is fond and blooming with affection as he rubs a hand up and down your back, moving to smoothe the hair from your face and gently brushing his knuckles across your cheek before resting his hand on top of yours.

“hi,” he whispers.

you giggle again.

“hi,” you whisper back.

“so.. would this be a good time to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

your heart skips a beat and you bite back a smile. “i was worried you’d just want to stick to the sex..” you admit.

yeonjun shakes his head, lips forming into an endearing pout as he laces his fingers with yours.

“nah, you’re stuck with me now, princess,” he grins. “i meant what i said… i’ve been wanting you for so long.”

an indescribable feeling flutters in your chest as you giddily turn your head to bury your face in the sheets, yeonjun laughing as he shuffles closer, rolling you over onto your back despite your giggle-ridden, poorly-executed attempts to fight him off.

you grin up at him and he grins down at you, hovering over you now with a hand on your cheek as his endeared eyes trail over each of your features as if to memorize them.

“my girl,” he whispers, tucking your hair behind your ear.

you tilt your head up to meet his lips when he leans in and kisses you softly, your hands playing with the long hair at the nape of his neck.

“i meant what i said too,” you murmur against him.

“mine since the second you saw me, huh?�� yeonjun’s cocky grin is light and teasing as you scrunch your nose at him, flicking his forehead and sending him into another pout.

“yeah, yeah. whatever, pretty boy.”

instead of responding he buries his face in your neck in a flurry of kisses as you squeal in surprise, laughing as you wiggle around underneath him;“stop, that tickles!”

“gotta make up for all the lost time when i didn’t make a move,” he reasons as his kisses move to your cheeks, your nose, your lips — you’ve never seen this side of yeonjun before, so soft and gentle and sweet; the fact that it seems reserved only for you sends butterflies fluttering through your tummy.

you spend your evening like that, wrapped in each other’s arms as you talk about your relationship, talk about the feelings that led you here, talk about this and that and everything in-between;

“does this count as our first date?” you ask quizzically. he wrinkles his nose.

“no way, i’m gonna do the most romantic shit ever for that.”

you snort. “isn’t that what this is?”

but you don’t have the chance to tease him any further when the beeping sound of his apartment passcode being entered causes you both to freeze.

you were so caught up that neither of you considered the time; nor the fact that yeonjun does indeed have 4 other roommates who would in fact be coming home at some point or another.

that some point apparently being now as the rowdy chatter of your friends erupts into the foyer until you suddenly hear soobin’s tipsy mumble. “what the… what are y/n’s shoes doing here?”

you and yeonjun turn to look at each other as your friends’ voices fall silent.

the seconds pass and you almost wonder if you’re in the clear…

but of course, no peace lasts forever with beomgyu in the house.

“OH MY GOD,” he screams.

“THEY FUCKED!”

4K notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 2 months ago

Text

Chokehold

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You have a crush on Bucky and start to bond with him over coffee in the break room, but there's no way he could possibly feel the same way about you... right?

Word Count: Over 11k (yep!)

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected v. sex (wrap it before you tap it!), dirty talk, fluff, longing, minor angst, insecurities, feels, sparring, swearing, confessions, getting together, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: I've been sitting on this one (thanks for listening to my back and forth on this @targaryenvampireslayer), and I hope you all enjoy. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @mumbles411, but any and all mistakes are my own. Dividers by the talented @enchanthings-a. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You fell for Bucky Barnes the moment you met. Something dangerous lurked in his steel blue eyes when you introduced yourself to him, but beneath the surface was pain and loneliness that you wanted to take away. Of course, that could've been you projecting and wanting to justify having a crush on a guy who hadn't spoken a word to you.

“Bucky,” was all he said to you, entrancing you with the deep baritone of his voice.

You wished you could say it was the beginning of a beautiful friendship, but you could count on one hand the number of times he spoke to you in the months that followed. You tried not to take it personally. Maybe he wasn't interested in making new friends since he seemed to stay close to Steve, Sam, and their small group. Or maybe he just didn't see a reason to trust you. Trust likely wasn't easy for him and what reason did he have to open up to you?

“Hi!” you exclaimed when Bucky walked into the break room, your echoing voice making you wince. “Sorry. I didn't mean to greet you at that decibel.”

“It’s okay,” he said, your eyes on him as he strode to the coffee machine with ease.

Bucky wasn't your friend, but it didn't stop you from greeting him whenever you saw him throughout the building, a warm feeling spreading in your chest every time he acknowledged you with a slight head nod or grunt. That had to mean something since he didn't outright ignore you. Not being his friend also didn't keep you from learning little things about him, like how he took his coffee.

Which you decided to surprise him with today.

“Wait! I made you some coffee,” you told him, going to get the mug you had ready for him. “I hope you like it.”

You had a reputation around S.H.I.E.L.D. for being kind to others ever since you joined. You didn't mind that being your signature since you liked putting a bit of kindness out into the world. Besides the tough work you did, your coworkers and teammates fought other battles every day that you knew nothing about. So why not try to lift others up? It costs you nothing.

Being nice, however, had a downside or two. Some thought that kindness was insincere or a weakness. It also didn't get you a lot of dates. Or maybe you didn't pay attention to other guys since you had eyes for one man.

You couldn't get a read on him as you carefully handed it to him. “You made me coffee?” he asked in disbelief, a soft look in his eyes before he blinked it away.

“Yep! With cream and sugar.”

Your smile faltered when he raised an eyebrow and glanced suspiciously at the liquid, like he was trying to assess if something was off with it as you wrung your fingers together. “This is really for me?” he asked.

You couldn't detect any anger or annoyance in his tone, but you wouldn't say he sounded happy either. Which only made your smile fall more. “Yeah. I just, I thought you liked it that way and maybe it would help you kickstart the morning, but I shouldn't have assumed. I'm sorry. And you don't have to drink it. I can just dump it out,” you rambled.

He held the mug a bit closer when you tried to take it away, the steam rising from it as his eyes met yours. It was almost as if the heat melted the ice from his stare. “Not gonna let you dump this out after you went to the trouble of making it for me,” he said, gently blowing on it before he took a sip. You reminded yourself not to whimper when he licked a drop away from his lip, wondering just what else he could do with that tongue. “Especially since you know how I like it.”

You avoided his gaze, hoping he didn't question why you knew since there was a chance you’d blurt out that you like him and that was the last thing you needed. You owed him some sort of explanation though, right? “Well, we’re both here some mornings and I saw you make it that way,” you said, your brain overanalyzing how that sounded. “Not that I'm watching you or anything like that. I… I’m not a creep.”

Bucky stared with unreadable eyes as you sighed and shook your head. Leave it to you to fumble over your words with your crush. Was that why they called it a crush? Because it crushed your hopes and dreams?

In a small voice, you said, “I was just trying to be nice.”

“It’s a very nice gesture, so thanks,” he said, taking another sip. “I appreciate it.”

Doing your best not to preen like a peacock at the renewed sliver of hope, you released the breath you were holding and nodded. At least he didn't question why you cared enough to remember how he took his coffee. “You’re welcome,” you said, wishing you could hang around and chat more, but you had work to do and didn't want to smother him. “I hope you have a good day.”

“You, too,” he said, his eyes on you as you headed toward the door. “Maybe I’ll see you here at the same time tomorrow?”

You came to a stop, your heart thudding as you faced him. “You… want me to make you coffee tomorrow?”

He chuckled before he took another sip. “I meant maybe we would just bump into each other, but I won’t turn down another coffee if you’re offering.”

Of course that was what he meant. “Oh. Right. Yeah. Maybe,” you said, backing up and hitting your elbow against the doorframe.

His brows furrowed as you gave him a strained smile. “You okay?” he asked, your cheeks hot as you rubbed your elbow.

“I’m fine! Enjoy your coffee,” you said, wishing the ground would swallow you up as you bolted from the room.

You were a competent agent. A strong woman on top of your kindness. Why did you have to act like an idiot in front of him? There was no chance you’d see him in the break room after that. It was a shame, too. It was the most he had ever spoken to you.

A higher being either took pity on you or wanted to play a trick on you since you did see Bucky the next day. Not only that, no one else was in the break room. Granted, most people used the main break room since this room was much smaller and on a floor most didn't go to. But how was it possible that you were so lucky?

“Morning, Bucky.”

“Morning.” He hesitated before he took a seat at the same table as you. If you were dreaming, you didn’t want anyone to wake you up. “Sorry. I should've asked…”

“It’s fine,” you smiled. “You're welcome to sit with me.”

“Thanks.” His cheek twitched and you wondered if it was a nervous tick or something leftover from the hell he endured. “You know, that coffee yesterday was probably the best I’ve ever had from this place.”

You perked up more. “Really? Wow, thanks. It was nothing,” you smiled, your pulse quickening. Not only was Bucky talking to you again, but he complimented you. It was slightly pathetic how much you enjoyed that. “You did say you wouldn’t turn down another coffee if I offered. Would you like one?”

“Sure,” he replied with a smile. He actually smiled at you. It was a good morning. “Thanks.”

“You know, you have a really nice smile,” you complimented him, proud that you said the words without your voice cracking.

“You think so?” He leaned back in his seat and you tried to move around the room like normal as his gaze followed your movements. “I think it scares some more than my glare does.”

You busied yourself with getting his coffee ready, the urge to defend him rising. “There’s nothing scary about your smile and anyone who says otherwise can deal with me.”

“They can deal with you, huh? Awfully kind of you.” His chuckle was so unexpected that you almost dropped the mug. The small talk was unexpected, too, but you weren't about to tell him to stop. “But you’re so sweet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you glare at anyone.”

“Oh, I can have resting bitch face when I want to,” you teased before your heart skipped a beat. He looked at you enough that he hadn’t seen you glare at anyone? He thought you were sweet? No, it was probably just an offhand comment. “And I wouldn’t just glare at anyone to defend you. I can fight, too. Words or fists.”

“You’d fight for me, too? You really know how to flatter a man.” His gaze warmed before some of the usual strain reappeared, your heart lurching at the sight. “But you shouldn’t have to fight for me.”

You took a seat across from him again once you set the mug down. “Why not?”

“Because you just shouldn’t.” He shrugged. You recognized that he was closing part of himself off and you weren't about to kick open that door. “If I’m being honest, I’m kind of shocked you’re talking to me.”

“And why’s that?”

He tapped a finger against his mug as he considered his words. “I haven’t really said much to you since we met, but you’ve still been nice to me. Always saying hi and smiling. And now this,” he said, gesturing to the coffee. “Some people have ulterior motives when they do nice things for no reason, but I don't get that feeling with you.”

“There are people who have ulterior motives. You’re right about that,” you agreed. The world could be a dark place with terrible people. “And I guess that's one of the reasons I try to lead with kindness. Putting a bit more optimism and joy into the world might not make it change overnight, but it could make a difference to someone.”

“That makes sense,” he said, his brows pinching. “But why continue to be nice to me when I've been standoffish with you? I don't think I deserve it.”

You let the words sink in. You expected Bucky would be apprehensive of people in general when his autonomy was taken away from him for so long. Trust couldn’t be easy. People had to earn it. What you didn't expect was that he didn't think he deserved your kindness.

“Everyone is different. We all have various personalities and comfort zones. Some people hit it off right away and others don't. Some need a bit more time to open up,” you answered, an earnest smile on your face. “I guess I figured you fell into the latter. Even if you didn't, I wouldn't take it personally or hold it against you. I hope you know that.”

Bucky may have had you in a chokehold, but he didn't owe you a thing.

His shoulders sagged as he let out a breath and you wished you could wrap him up in a hug. “Thanks for being so understanding.” He observed you with a thoughtful gaze. “And you are right about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Your kindness made a difference for me yesterday. And you’re really easy to talk to.” He smiled, genuine affection in his eyes as your heart raced. Was it possible to faint while sitting? “I don't usually talk this much anymore.”

“I’m glad it did. You can always talk to me, you know. I’m happy to listen or even give advice if you want it,” you said sincerely. It meant a lot that he took the time to speak to you today, and if it were up to you he’d only have good things in his life going forward. No one deserved that more than him. “And if I’m ever too much for you, don't be afraid to tell me.”

His brows pinched again. “Too much? How?” he asked, his tone not as light as it was a moment ago.

You tensed, gripping your mug as you mulled over past things you heard from others. “Well, I’ve been told before that I’m too perky and too optimistic some days. That my kindness is fake and it can get on people’s nerves,” you explained carefully, swallowing a little. Yeah, you had a reputation for being kind, but some didn’t care for it. “Not that I think you would find me annoying or anything like that. It’s just how it is for some people.”

“So because you choose to be nice instead of acting bitter or rude people don’t like that?” Bucky looked at you with a mix of confusion and anger. “What the fuck is wrong with them?”

You were utterly silent from his reaction. Your heart also fluttered because he seemed upset on your behalf. “So many things, I’m sure,” you teased, hoping to make him smile a little. It was nice when he smiled at you. “But it’s okay. Really. It doesn't change who I am. I'm still going to be me.”

Cheesy, but true. You couldn't control the actions and emotions of others. You knew in your core who you were and you would continue to put that energy out into the world.

His jaw ticked, but he gazed at you with what you guessed was admiration. “Kind and steadfast,” he whispered, making your heart swell all over again. “Listen. If anyone around here does give you a hard time, will you let me know?”

The determination in his eyes took you aback. He went from hardly speaking to you to opening up a bit and now wanting to look out for you. It was nice, to say the least. “That’s okay, Bucky. You said I didn't have to fight for you, so you don't have to for me.”

“I want to.” He reached forward and hovered his hand over yours. Before he touched you though, he pulled away. You longed to know what his touch felt like. “Please?”

You couldn't resist his gaze. “Okay, but only if you let me know if anyone gives you a hard time.”

“Yeah. I got a name for you. Sam Wilson,” he deadpanned.

You burst out laughing, covering your mouth so the sound wouldn’t echo in the room or bother him. “Oh, Sam. I’ll give him a talking to,” you teased, your cheeks aching from how hard you were smiling.

“I made you laugh,” he pointed out softly, almost in disbelief. It was another moment where you wanted to wrap him up in a hug.

“Yeah, you did.”

“Wow,” he whispered, smiling before his face fell. “Fuck. I have to go.” He went to stand, but paused to look at you. “Do you ever go to the main break room?”

“I prefer this one,” you said, lightly tapping the table. “It’s quieter.”

“Me, too.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Um, maybe I’ll see you here again tomorrow? Same time?

Warmth spread in your heart at the hope in his eyes. “Yeah, I’ll be here.”

You’d always be there if he asked.

For the next several weeks, seeing Bucky in the small break room became part of your normal morning routine. You made coffee for both of you before you sat together and talked. Some chats were casual, while others went a little deeper. Both ends of the spectrum helped you get to know each other.

He spoke fondly about a cat he found in an alley and took into his home. He named her Alpine and even showed you a photo of her on his phone. It tugged at your heartstrings seeing the ball of white fur curled up in his metal arm. How could it not?

Bucky spoke about Steve and Sam and how they tried to meet up once a week for dinner. They took turns picking the place. It was nice that he had them to lean on. Both men were always friendly toward you, but you noticed they seemed to smile at you even more since you and Bucky started talking. You assumed they were happy that their friend had someone else in his corner.

“Steve is a punk and Sam is worse,” he said once with nothing but affection in his eyes.

He explained that he was in therapy, which he wasn't ashamed of. He had no reason to be. It was a work in progress, building trust not just with the therapist but building trust within himself. He didn't get into specifics regarding what they talked about as it wasn't your business to begin with, though he did casually throw in that he had trouble sleeping some nights. You mentioned that you sometimes wrote your thoughts and feelings down if they got too loud. He told you the next day that he got himself a new notebook to try that out and you had a spring in your step the whole morning.

You didn't talk about anything particularly exciting. You told him that you didn't have a lot of family close by, but loved your job because you got to help people in some capacity. And that you enjoyed reading and watching movies when you stayed at home, but also enjoyed going out with a couple of close friends. Bucky didn't need to know that they loved teasing you about your crush. You mentioned little things, too, like how you needed to go shopping soon for a new sofa and how you hoped to see the new science exhibit at the nearby museum.

The bulk of your conversations took place in the break room, minus occasionally bumping into him around the building which didn't leave much time for chatter. It wasn't a bad thing. It was nice just to talk to him.

And while you didn't think any of the topics you brought up were interesting, Bucky listened intently every time, his eyes on you as he hung on your every word. The attention felt nice. Though you hadn't mustered up the courage to ask him to hang out outside of work, it felt like the two of you were friends because of those mornings together.

Maybe he thought you were friends, too, since he asked one day, “Do you know anything about dating apps?”

You almost spilled his coffee, but quickly recovered and avoided his concerned gaze as you sat down. “Um, no, not much. I haven’t really used them. I haven’t dated in a few months either,” you answered honestly, hoping your tone didn’t sound as bitter as the taste in your mouth. You weren’t embarrassed by your romantic status, but your heart sank just the same. “Are you… Why are you asking? Just out of curiosity.” It wasn’t your business, but it was the first time he brought up anything concerning dating or relationships.

“Sam mentioned setting me up and I brushed that off, so he mentioned using a dating app. I don’t know.” He shrugged as you hung your head.

Something settled within your chest, a heavy feeling that made it difficult to take a steady breath. But you couldn't feel sorry for yourself. Bucky was kind, good looking, and trying to adjust to a sense of normalcy. Of course he’d want to try dating again and what kind of person would you be if you didn't support him?

“Well, I can help you research some apps if you’d like. See if any may be a good fit?”

“Really? You’d do that?” he asked softly.

Your eyes drifted up and you did your best to smile. You couldn't let him see that the mere thought of him dating someone else hurt you. It was pathetic. “Yeah, I would,” you answered. You refused to let your crush on him stop you from helping him if he wanted to meet someone.

Bucky stared at you for a few seconds and you almost squirmed in your chair. “But you said you haven't really used them. Why not?”

The unexpected question did make you squirm. You couldn't blurt out that he was one of the reasons. “Well, not to be a downer or anything, but some apps almost seem to set people up for rejection. It just isn’t possible to match every single person up. And there’s also rapid judgment with some based on appearance and it makes it easy to objectify people,” you explained. It was sad, but true. “It does work for some and I’m happy for those people, but I don't know. I’d rather just meet someone and…”

“Connect with them naturally?” he guessed.

“Yeah,” you said, a sad smile touching your lips. “Is it wishful thinking to want something like that?”

“I don’t think it is at all. In fact, that’s a good reason why I probably won’t use an app,” he said. You hoped your sigh of relief wasn’t audible, but the weight lifting from your shoulders felt palpable. “Besides, what would I say if I tried to set up a profile? ‘Hi, I’m a previously brainwashed assassin over 100 years old’?”

“It would be a conversation starter,” you teased, the playful banter bringing a warm smile to his face. “And I know I brought up rapid judgment, but I’m sure one look at your profile picture and people would line out the door just to get your attention,” you smiled and gestured to his face, but his gaze dropped, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features. “I’m sorry. I…”

He shook his head, and you caught a hint of a smile that made your heart flutter. “No, it’s… It’s kind of nice to hear that,” he admitted, his gaze drifting away like he was lost in thought. “Dating came easy to me years ago and I don’t think I really appreciated it back then. The thought of trying again is a little scary.”

His voice was soft, almost reflective, as if he were speaking more to himself than to you. You felt a swell of empathy for the weight of his past. “Well, whenever your next date happens? I hope they know how lucky they are,” you said, your heart aching to convey how deserving he was of genuine connection.

You just wished that connection was with you.

The warm smile returned to his face as he gazed at you. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Your heart ached in your chest. “Anytime,” you whispered back, quickly standing up before tears pricked your eyes. “I should get to work. Have a good day, okay?”

“Oh. You, too.” He looked like he wanted to stop you, but he hung back. It was all in your head anyway. He didn't want to stop you. Why would he?

You wiped your eyes once you were out of the break room. Rushing away was cowardly and you knew it. It was silly, too.

You wondered if the coffee talks would continue once he found his dream girl. Would he tell you about her? Would bile rise to your throat when he sang their praises or smiled a soft smile not reserved for you? You had to stop thinking about it. You couldn't fall apart just because Bucky wasn't yours, and it was something you’d need to come to terms with when he found someone else.

And maybe tomorrow it wouldn't hurt so much.

Bucky looked a little tired when he joined you the next morning, not saying a word. He still offered you a smile. You didn't speak either, but you gave him a small smile in return.

The night before, you wrestled with the idea of telling him how you felt. All you had to do was get the words out. But the words froze in your throat like ice and you kept quiet, both of you sipping your coffee as the seconds passed by.

You almost wanted to fill the void with more chatter, but it didn’t feel necessary. The silence was oddly comforting. Silence was also safe. He seemed content just to sit there with you, and you were afraid you’d blurt something out that you couldn’t take back.

“Did I do something to upset you yesterday?” he asked suddenly. His gaze was so gentle, yet deep, looking for an answer you couldn't fully give him. “You rushed out without finishing your coffee, and you always finish your coffee, so I had to have done something.”

Your heart breaks from his words. Rushing off made him think it was his fault, and you never wanted to imply that. “No, you didn't upset me,” you replied. That was true. Bucky didn't do anything to upset you. It was your own mind and feelings that did that. “I just had work to do.”

He didn't look convinced, and you couldn't blame him. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” You put a smile on your face, but you felt terrible. “And I don't think you could do anything to upset me.”

“Then you wouldn't mind sparring with me tomorrow morning by any chance, would you?” he asked.

You inhaled, not expecting him to ask you that. “You want to spar with me?” You discreetly pinched yourself, testing to see if you were dreaming or not. He was asking you to hang out with him outside of the break room. Kind of. “Really?” you added, your heart racing when he nodded.

“Yeah. What do you say?” he asked. Oh, it was a bad idea to spar with Bucky Barnes. Not because you couldn't learn from him, but what the hell were you going to do to reign in your sexual frustration? “Unless you're busy.”

“Yes!” you blurted out quickly, clearing your throat as you tried to regain some of your composure. You swore his cheek twitched like he was trying not to smile. “I mean, no, I'm not busy. I’m totally free and I'd love to spar with you,” you said, praying you sounded normal and not like some lovesick woman with an overgrowing crush.

Which was exactly what you were.

But you weren't about to turn down a chance to spar with him. Who in their right mind would? How many times had you imagined him slamming your body against the mats and pinning you down? Both of you breathing heavily, his face shining from the perspiration. You were thankful the super soldier couldn't read minds because now all you could think about was him tearing your clothes away and spearing you open with his cock and-

“Okay then,” he said, finishing his coffee before he took the mug to the sink. “Second floor gym. Room 2. 6 am.”

“6 am. I’ll be there,” you promised, gazing after him as he walked toward the door. “See you then, Sergeant.”

His entire body went rigid before he looked back at you, the metal fingers of his left arm twitching. Your heart sank, worried that you said something wrong. Would he take back his offer?

You stood up from the table. “Bucky, I-”

An agent walked through the door and bumped Bucky out of the way. At least he tried to. The super soldier didn't budge.

“Excuse me,” Bucky said.

“Watch it,” the agent sneered, bumping his shoulder again. He still didn't budge. “Think you're special because you got some serum in your veins and Rogers wanted to save your ass? You’re nothing.”

You gasped. You could handle people saying things about you, but people you cared about? It made you see red. How dare this guy say anything like that to Bucky?

“Nothing but HYDRA’s little bitch.”

Bucky glared and looked about two seconds away from smacking the guy across the room, but he hung his head after a second and didn't breathe a word. Maybe he didn't want to make a big deal out of it or didn't think it was worth it. You, however, wouldn't put up with it. Not for a second.

“Hey! Agent asshole,” you snapped, marching over until you were between Bucky and the agent. “Apologize to him.”

The agent cackled at you and you heard Bucky’s metal fingers curl. “Apologize? He was in my way.” He reached out a hand to pat your head. “But it’s kind of cute to see you defending the Winter Soldier. That's-” You grabbed his wrist and twisted it. “Ow, fuck!”

“And now I’m in your way,” you said sweetly, twisting a bit more until his knees buckled. “Apologize, now.”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m sorry!” he shouted.

Bucky had a look of awe on his face when you looked back at him. “It’s okay,” he said above a whisper.

You released the guy and pointed at the door. “Whatever you need you can get it later,” you said, satisfied when the agent scrambled out the door.

Bucky stared at you when you faced him, silence hanging in the air. “You okay?” you finally asked. Was twisting the guy’s wrist too much?

“I…” Bucky blinked rapidly and cleared his throat. “You defended me.”

“Well, yeah. I told you if anyone gave you a hard time they could deal with me,” you smiled. It didn't matter how small the matter was, you’d stick up for him. People like that guy often mistook your kindness for weakness. “And what he said was completely out of line.”

“Thank you.” His fingers reached out and touched yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. “Really. Thank you.”

“Don't need to thank me,” you said, giddy from his small touch. “And, listen, before he rudely interrupted, I was going to ask if it bothered you that I called you Sergeant.”

You thought you saw his fingers twitch again, but he shook his head. “No. I… kind of like hearing that from you.”

“Oh.” You dipped your head to hide your smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow then? 6 am?”

“Yeah, you will,” he said softly, meeting your gaze as you lifted your head again.

“Have a good day then, Sergeant.”

He inhaled sharply. “Don’t be late tomorrow,” he gruffly spoke before he left the room without another word, hearts in your eyes as you stayed rooted to the spot.

You mentally jumped for joy from how excited you were. You couldn't keep the smile off your face the rest of the day. Bucky could've asked anyone in the building to spar with him, but he chose you. And he stuck up for you because some guy bumped into you. Now you just had to make sure you wouldn't make a fool of yourself in the morning.

Easy enough, right?

You spent more time than you cared picking out the perfect exercise outfit. It didn't matter what you wore since he only asked you to practice with him. It wasn't like he asked you out on a date. Still, you were hopeful that the matching black set would make him look at least once.

If anything, it was a confidence booster for yourself since you liked how you looked in it.

“Confidence is sexy,” you smiled before you grabbed your bag to go.

You got to the gym in record time, not wanting to be late or keep him waiting. Nodding to a few people on machines before you made it to the second floor, you had to pause and take a breath before you entered Room 2. The air was a bit cooler in the sparring area, which was good considering you’d likely work up a sweat.

Dropping your bag near the door, you nearly jumped when you spotted Bucky a few feet away staring at you. “Right on time,” he said, your throat dry as he nodded to the mat. “I stretched before you got here.”

“Hey,” you said, removing your jacket, the zipper loud in the quiet room. You gave him what you hoped was a nice smile when you went to the mat. “Shouldn't take me long.”

The Sergeant stood against the wall with his arms crossed as you began to stretch, one foot pressed against it as his eyes slid over to you. Quickly averting your gaze, you tried to concentrate on warming up instead of how good he looked in his workout gear. While his sweatpants hung low on his hips, the dark short sleeved shirt clung to him like a second skin. He had his hair pulled back, too, which only enhanced how bright his eyes looked under the ceiling lights.

You refused to get aroused just from looking at him.

Too. Fucking. Late.

“You good? You don't seem as chipper as usual,” he said.

“Yeah, I…” What were you even going to say? That his mere presence in his current attire made you wet? “I didn't have my coffee before I left, so no caffeine. This might wake me up.”

He didn't seem convinced, but he nodded after a moment. “I know the feeling,” he said with a soft smile. “Thanks for joining me so early. And sorry if it threw off your routine.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Morning exercises are good for the mind and body,” you said, standing once you finished stretching. He probably had a full schedule ahead of him. “I have to admit though, just like you were surprised I was nice to you a while back, I'm a little surprised you asked me to spar with you.”

“And why is that?” he asked as he approached the mat, all confidence as he took his spot.

Your throat went dry again before you cleared it. “Because someone like Steve is more evenly matched,” you said. Super soldier to super soldier, you could go for hours. “And chances of me beating you are also pretty slim.”

Way to downplay yourself.

“You nearly brought that agent to his knees yesterday and you didn't break a sweat.” His head tilted a fraction, his eyes carefully taking you in from head to toe. “You don't think you can take me?”

Your next breath came out in a rush. If you didn't know any better, you would've said he asked that on purpose. Oh, you had imagined Bucky telling you how well you'd take him, but not like this. You'd take what you can get.

“I can take you,” you stated.

You could only describe the look in his eyes as feral as he got into position. “I'm sure you can,” he said, your only warning before he rushed at you.

Blocking Bucky’s hit, you told yourself not to smile and focused on dodging another hit. He had advantages on his side, like his strength with the serum in his veins, but you were determined to show him that you were a worthy opponent. You also knew he wouldn't try to harm you. Anything he threw your way would be to help you improve.

Bucky grinned when he blocked your kick and you almost let it distract you. “I think you're giving me a run for my money,” he said before he performed a back full twisting layout to dodge another kick. Was that the proper term? Whatever it was, the move was more agile than you could comprehend.

“And I think you’re showing off,” you teased, extending your leg for a sweep instead. You huffed when he flipped away again. “Either that or Steve’s theatrics have rubbed off on you.”

“Don't tell him that. Wouldn't want him to get a big head,” he winked.

The back and forth went on for a few minutes, your breathing heavier and heart racing. Part of you wondered if he was pulling punches for your sake, but he didn't let up. It was exhilarating. You hoped he asked you to spar with him again.

“Tell me something.” Bucky brushed some of the loose hair back with the back of his hand, both of you panting lightly as the motions stopped for a second. “Why are you single?”

Your eyes widened at the question. “W-What?” you breathed, almost losing your footing as you stepped back. Why would he ask you that and why now?

“You told me why you don't use dating apps and you want to make a genuine connection, but you haven't mentioned anyone special,” he shrugged, tilting his head when he stepped forward. “You know you can tell me if there’s someone you like, right?”

“Maybe we can have this conversation when we’re done sparring?” you suggested. It would give you a chance to collect yourself.

He shook his head. “No, I think we should have this conversation now, if that’s okay.”

“I guess. If you insist.” You blocked his swing, barely. “There’s… someone I like, but I don’t know if he feels the same way.”

His cheek twitched, like he wasn't expecting that answer. “Who is he? Do I know him?”

That question threw you off a bit more. Why did he want to know who? “Yeah. Yeah, you do,” you said.

“Is it Steve? Sam?” he pressed, a hint of anger in his eyes. “Some other agent?”

“No, no, and no,” you replied, sighing as you dropped your arms. “Listen, do we really-”

Bucky swept your legs out from under you. The air left your lungs when your back hit the mat and he settled over you before you could get up, pinning your arms at your side. You tried to twist out of his hold and couldn't even use your thighs to roll him off you since he had those pinned, too.

“You let your guard down,” he said.

“Yep,” you said, the word clipped as you tried to look anywhere but at him. It was impossible. He was everywhere.

“Now this guy you like,” he started with a tilt of his head. He wasn't letting this go, was he? “If it’s someone I know and he isn't Steve, Sam, or another agent, who is he?”

You bit your lip, wishing you a chance to hide or bolt.

“Tell me,” he begged, his eyes staring into yours. “Please.”

Oh, God. Did he have any clue how you felt? At the very least, could he sense how he affected you by laying on top of you? How hard your nipples were against your top or the wetness that gathered between your thighs?

Now wasn't the time to focus on being horny.

He sighed when you didn’t speak. “Answer this then: Is there even the slightest chance that it’s me?” he asked, the question hanging in the air between you.

“I…” You swallowed hard as he waited patiently for your answer with an expectant gaze. He was so close and the position was too vulnerable, but you had to bite the bullet and tell him the truth. “It isn't a slight chance. It's one hundred percent you.”

“What?” he whispered.

Super soldier hearing, he should've heard you perfectly clear, right? “I like you, Bucky. I care about you. I pretty much have since I met you,” you finished, the quiet admittance making your chest burn.

It was out in the open now and no longer suppressing your feelings was a good thing.

He stared straight into your eyes, your heart picking up a notch. “You like me?” The weight of him left your thighs, but you couldn't breathe when he settled between them. “At the risk of sounding like an arrogant prick, are you single because you’ve been waiting for me?”

“Yes,” you whispered, swallowing again. “And you aren’t arrogant. Far from it.”

“So, every morning we’ve had coffee together and even before that, you cared about me? And when I brought up the dating app a couple of days ago and you offered to help me, you had feelings for me? And when you defended me?” He tilted his head further when you nodded. “And you didn't say anything until now?” It didn't feel like an accusation, but your eyes welled up anyway.

“Yes, the whole time. I didn't want to tell you and make things weird if you didn't feel the same way and I would've rather have you as a friend than nothing at all. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you rambled as a tear slid from the corner of your eye. You weren't trying to deceive him by keeping your crush on him a secret. “We are kind of friends, right?”

The two of you hadn’t hung out outside of work, but there was something there. At the very least, there was a comradery. After this, who knew if he’d even want to speak to you again.

“I don't want to be your friend,” he said with conviction, your heart shattering. It was like he punched you right in the gut and maybe you deserved that. He smiled softly, something beautifully tragic when you struggled beneath him. Why wasn't he letting you up? “Wait, no, no. That’s not what I meant.”

You went limp when you couldn't break his hold. “Then what do you mean?!”

“I want to be so much more than that.”

“You…” the rest of the words died on your lips because what did he say?

A metal finger moved down your cheek, the touch cool against your warm skin as he wiped another tear away. The finger then tipped your chin before his mouth descended on yours. You weren't sure why you expected it to be a rough kiss, but it was anything but. His lips teased yours along with his tongue, coaxing you to open your mouth to his. It was demanding in the gentlest of ways.

It wasn't a rushed kiss either. It was thorough, slow, like he had nowhere else in the world to be. Did he have any idea of the spark he ignited within you? It was something hot, needy, out of control. Fire raced through your veins. You'd go up in flames if he kept kissing you like that. Like you meant something to him.

“I care about you, too,” he whispered. You inhaled sharply when he trailed kisses along your face. “I’ve liked you since we met.”

“You have?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he smiled, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I hoped you might feel the same, but I’m a bit rusty when it comes to this and I couldn't get a read on you when I mentioned the dating app. I figured this approach might be better.”

“Well,” you gasped when you felt something hard pressed against you. “It worked,” you said. You were glad he took the leap of faith.

“I’ll always remember the first time you smiled at me. I won't let anyone take that memory away from me,” he groaned against your skin, your eyes tearing up again. “And the way you stuck up for me… I don’t deserve you. I don't know if I ever will.”

“Don't say that,” you begged when he released your other wrist, giving you the chance to wrap your arms around him. “You deserve every bit of happiness.”

He smiled as his kisses moved down to your neck and you could only whimper when he licked and sucked over your pulse. “You're so caring. So good,” he said, rocking his hips forward. The sweet words combined with the sensual movements of his body fueled your desire. You also bit your lip to keep from bursting into tears from his praise. “And you're so beautiful, you know that? Inside and out.”

“You keep talking like that, I’ll keep crying,” you tried to joke.

He lifted his head to wipe another tear away. “Happy tears?”

“Very happy,” you promised, shifting underneath him and brushing his crotch again.

His mouth fell open as his eyes shut. It was one of the sexiest looks you had ever seen. “If you keep doing that, I’ll embarrass myself,” he said in a strained voice.

“Is that a bad thing?” you smiled innocently.

“Maybe not. I have a quick rebound rate if I do,” he teased, frowning when your smile slipped. “Shit, are you okay? Did I say something wrong?”

“I’m fine. You didn’t say anything wrong,” you promised, touching his cheek. “I just… Am I dreaming?”

His lips touched yours again, You would’ve melted into the mat if you weren’t already underneath him. “You’re not dreaming,” he whispered. The groan he let out when you moved beneath him again reminded you that he really was settled between your legs. And hard. “I wanted to take you out on a nice date before I even touched you, but I don’t know if I can wait. You’re driving me crazy.”

Well, nothing had happened quite yet. Just a confession of feelings. And some kissing. And grinding.

“You’re driving me crazy, too, but if you want to stop, I understand,” you said. It didn't have to go further if he didn't want to, especially since it was fast.

His forehead touched yours. “Do you?”

You nearly shouted that you didn’t want him to stop, would never want him to stop, but this wasn’t just about you. “I don’t, but I get it if you do,” you said. You were kind of in a public place and consent went both ways. If he was the slightest bit uncomfortable, you were fine with stopping.

It seemed to be all he needed to hear since he kissed you again, eagerly licking into your mouth. Your heart was still racing out of control, the high from the exercise running through your veins. You wondered if he felt that adrenaline, too. If the confession of your feelings was the water against the dam, admitting that you wanted him physically, too, was the thing to break it.

“It’s just… I don’t…” He lifted his head to look around before he smiled. “Wait, hold on.”

He pushed himself up, your body cold from the sudden lack of heat. The tent he sported in his pants sent a surge of pride through you as he went as gracefully as he could to the door. Locking it, he went to his bag next and dug out a towel.

“What are you doing?” you asked when he came back quickly.

“Trying to be a gentleman,” he smiled, lifting your hips to place the towel underneath. “Sorry, the mat’s just kind of dirty and I think you deserve a little better than that.”

“You certainly are a gentleman,” you smiled back.

“The things I want to do to you are far from gentlemanly,” he said, reaching for the waistband of your pants and peeling them down with your underwear. You were sweaty and gross, but if he didn’t care, you wouldn’t either. “I wish I could lay you out and kiss every inch of your body.”

“Maybe after I shower,” you teased, both of you chuckling as you helped push his pants and underwear down. Once all was said and done the two of you could talk and figure out a date and him properly taking you to bed, but having him take you then and there was perfect. “Oh…”

Words left your mind when you saw his hard and heavy cock. A bead of precum dripped from the head and you wished you could have a taste. There was a good chance he’d split you in half, but it would be worth feeling him for days on end.

“Bucky, please,” you begged, opening your legs more as an offering. You didn’t care if it made you look desperate for him, which you were. You just hoped it looked enticing.

With blown pupils and a small growl, he shook his head. It was enough to make you want to cry. “I need to stretch you first, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment made you smile even when you argued, “I don’t need you to stretch me. I can take it.”

He narrowed his eyes, but gave you a smile, too, as he brought his hand to your scorching heat. “We’re both desperate for this, but I’m going to stretch your pretty cunt to make room for my cock. Got it?”

Shivering at his tone, you nodded. “Yes, Sergeant,” you answered, biting your lip when you saw his cock twitch. “You really like me saying that, don't you?”

“Yes,” he groaned. You’d have to keep calling him that in and out of bed then.

He rubbed along your folds slowly, like he was memorizing the feel. Deep down, he was a gentleman. Badly wanting you, but making sure he wouldn’t hurt you. What more could you ask for?

“Can I confess something?” he asked gently as the first finger sank into you, gently exploring. Gasping at the welcomed intrusion, you nodded. He could say anything he wanted. “I've imagined you just like this,” he stated, pulling his finger out before pushing it in deeper.

“You have?” you asked before he pushed a second finger in, both of them curling slightly. It sent sparks of pleasure down your spine.

“It almost felt wrong because I hadn’t even asked you to go out with me, but I couldn’t help myself.” His voice was huskier as he pumped his fingers, your hand fisting in his shirt. You throbbed with need, a kind of need you couldn’t ever remember feeling. “I wondered what kind of sounds you’d make and how you’d feel around me if you ever let me have you.”

More heat pooled in your core as you spread your legs wider for him.

“Making such pretty sounds for me already. And your pussy, it feels like heaven. Might even make me see God once I have my cock in you.” He glanced down to watch his fingers slide in and out of your tight passage, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Fuck, you’re so warm. And tight. And wet,” he continued, an almost cocky smile on his face when his thumb swiped over your clit and drew a small whimper from you. "Guess I haven’t completely lost my touch.”

“That is both hot and…” you had to pause when he added a third finger, making you stretch around the digits. He was going to be the death of you. “Is it bad if I’m a little jealous because I don’t want to think about you touching anyone else?”

Something sparked in his pretty blue eyes. “Does my girl have a jealous streak?” He slid a fourth finger in, your back arching with a small cry. “I’m flattered, but you have nothing to worry about. You’re the only one I want.”

Your breaths were shallow from his touch alone, but the sweet words got under your skin. “You don’t have to worry about anyone else either,” you exhaled. He knew you weren’t seeing anyone, but you felt the need to assure him. “And I like that.”

“Like what?”

Your hand twisted in his shirt more. “The idea of being your girl,” you managed to answer, your body writhing as he moved his fingers in a beautifully torturous motion. “Enough, Bucky, please.”

“Enough what?”

“I’m stretched. I’m on the pill. Just… put your cock in me, please!” Panting by the end of your begging rant with mist in your eyes, you added, “Can I at least touch you if you won’t fuck me?”

The beautiful bastard had the nerve to laugh when he took his fingers out. “Kind and steadfast, even when you’re begging to get fucked,” he said, his eyes slipping shut for a second as he licked the first two fingers clean. “I promise you can touch me later if you let me get a proper taste of your sweet cunt.”

Your cheeks got so hot it shocked you that you didn’t catch on fire. “Yes, please,” you whispered, the promise of later making you quiver.

The room felt like it was spinning when he stared down at you and licked his fingers again. He kept his eyes on you when he wrapped them around his cock and guided it to your waiting hole. You tried to calm the beating of your heart when he slipped the blunt head in, but you were powerless to do anything but feel as he kept pushing in. You trembled and gripped his shoulders once his hips were flush against yours, throbbing around his thickness already when hadn't started thrusting.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he gasped, dropping his forehead to yours again as he trembled, too. “I need…” he breathed against your lips. “I just need a second, please.”

“Okay,” you whispered, wondering if he was as overwhelmed as you were. Maybe moreso. You weren’t sure exactly how long it had been for him. And being enhanced, you didn’t know if the sensations felt different or stronger. You just hoped he felt good. And happy.

His metal hand framed your cheek, so gentle in contrast to the damage he could do with it. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, tilting your head up to kiss him. “I can take it,” you promised. Your body had adjusted to his size and now you wanted him to move, to feel all of him.

He finally began to thrust, moaning against your lips. You lifted your hips, trying to take him in more. The hand on your face slid down your body before it moved to your hip, keeping you in place so you could feel him nice and deep. He pulled his cock out almost completely before he thrust back in, making you cry out as you quivered around him. You wanted to soak his cock, consume him the way he was consuming you.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praised as you bit your lip. “No, lemme hear those pretty sounds. C’mon,” he said, changing his angle slightly so you moaned loudly. He moaned, too, as he kept thrusting. “There you go. So beautiful.”

You wanted to scream for him. You also wondered what it would feel like to have his hand around your throat or over your mouth to smother those very sounds if you ever snuck off during work to fool around. There were so many things you wanted to try with him.

“Bucky,” you whined, digging your nails into his shoulders as he moved faster. Piercing pleasure built from your core and spread slowly throughout your body. You felt like you couldn’t breathe from how good it felt, how he felt.

The intensity in his turbulent eyes was similar to when he listened to you talk in the break room, but with much more heat. Had he looked at you like that all along? “Wanna mark you up one day. Let everyone see that you’re my girl,” he grunted, dragging his mouth from your face to your neck. He lightly bit down, smirking when you whined again. “Would you let me?”

“Yes,” you moaned, tilting your head to give him more access. You’d feel so proud to wear his mark. There wouldn’t be any shame if people saw or asked because you’d get to say you belonged to Bucky.

“You feel so fucking good,” he rasped, surging into you over and over, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing off the walls with your cries. “Sweetheart, I’m not gonna last.”

The term of endearment again. It had your heart clenching along with your pussy. “Neither am I,” you breathed, bringing his head back to yours. You framed his cheeks, ecstasy close to crashing over you. From the strain in his handsome face, he was on the edge, too. “Come with me? Mark me up inside?”

It was a question and not a demand because you wouldn’t demand anything from the man who somehow stole your heart.

Through the pleasure twisting his face, he smiled. “Come with me.”

The heightened pleasure crashing over you was powerful enough that you almost screamed, your walls spasming around him. Shudders wracked your body as your breath ceased, trying to hold his gaze as the heat engulfed you. Your release coated him, just like you wanted it to. And it was only a few more thrusts from him before he tipped over the edge, filling you up in return. You both marked each other in the best possible way.

You laid limp beneath him, both of you panting. Your slick, wet heat still burned around him as released your hips and pushed himself up, a bead of sweat from his skin dripping onto yours. You gazed at each other, something tender passing between you. You wished the moment didn't have to end.

He leaned back down to nuzzle your nose and you couldn’t help but giggle breathlessly at the affectionate move. “You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you replied, still dazed. “You?”

“Better than okay,” he said, smiling when you tucked some of his hair back. He looked good like this.

“I don't think I can move,” you teased.

“We have to, sadly,” he sighed, sliding himself from the warmth of your body. You whined at the loss, your hole clenching around nothing as your mixed release seeped onto the towel beneath you. “I know, but in case the next group that uses this room gets here early, I don’t want them to see you with your pants down,” he told you as he sat back and looked over you. You took a moment to look over him as well, getting a glance at his glorious thighs. You longed for the chance for you both to truly explore each other’s bodies. “And we could both use a shower.”

You inhaled when he used the clean part of the towel to gently wipe you both down. “Mmm. Together?”

He chuckled, helping you pull your underwear and pants back up. His hands lingered on your hips and you were two seconds from shoving the fabric back down. “If I get you in the shower, we won’t make it to work on time.”

“I don’t mind being late.” You tried to lift your arms to help him pull up his pants, too, but he beat you to it. It was a shame he had to cover up. “Or we could call in? I still have a lot of days off to use.”

“Yeah? You want to call in?”

“Yeah,” you said eagerly. Too eagerly. “Maybe?”

You almost shrank in on yourself when he raised an eyebrow. He told you he cared about you and he sure as hell just fucked you like he craved you, but you didn’t want to come across as clingy, especially so soon. The two of you still needed to figure things out.

And what if the things said were just from the heat of the moment? You weren't sure if your heart could take it if he walked away without another thought. He wouldn't do that though, right?

His gaze softened, helping you sit up, his face inches from yours as he rubbed your arms. “Hey. What’s the matter?” he asked, your heart in your throat when he smiled again. “Was I that bad?”

“No, not at all. You were amazing, holy shit, and telling you how I feel was long overdue,” you promised, his smile softer. “It’s just…”

His brows pinched. “It’s just what?”

You took a breath. “I've wanted to hear for so long that you had feelings for me, too. And now that it’s really sinking in, I guess I still feel like I’m dreaming a bit. That none of this happened,” you admitted, placing your hand on his chest. His heart was still beating fast, like yours. “That tomorrow I’ll just go back to being the girl who has a crush on you and nothing more.”

“What?” His face slowly fell. Why did you open your mouth? “No, that's not going to happen.”

“We just went from work friends to whatever just transpired, and I don’t want it to be too much or too fast for you or for you to regret this,” you blurted out, biting your lip hard. “I don't want to be too much for you,” you added in a whisper. Your insecurity surfaced more as the post-sex haze faded and you wished it hadn't. “I’m sorry. I don't know why I’m ruining the moment.”

It was stupid. Where had your optimism gone? He told you he cared about you. He gazed at you like you meant something to him. It was everything you wanted, so why were you questioning it?

“You didn't ruin anything.”

“Are you sure?” you asked softly.

Bucky placed his hand over yours, the other going to the back of your head so you couldn't move away. “I’m sure, now listen to me: Whatever is going on between us isn’t too much and you are not too much. You are never too much,” he said with fierceness akin to a growling wolf. “I want you and I want to be with you. I wouldn’t joke about that,” he assured you, your lips tugging in a small smile. “I get feeling like it's a dream, believe me, but it isn't. It's real and what just happened was real.”

Hearing him declare his feelings again made your heart soar. “I know you wouldn’t joke about that,” you said. He wasn’t cruel. He wouldn’t toy with your feelings like that. “I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?”

“I do and I am happy,” he said, his eyes full of longing. He experienced so much pain and loss and deserved happiness. “I’ve lost so much of my life, so much time, and I don't want to waste another second. So believe me when I say I want you to be my girl.”

A sob threatened to work its way up. “Oh, Bucky,” you whispered, your head dipping down before he lifted it back up.

“That connection you’ve talked about wanting, I feel that with you. I trust you. That’s why I’ve been able to open up to you. The person who made me coffee and offered me kindness and understanding and just let me be me,” he said, making you smile more. You wished you could wrap each word around your heart. “I want to hold your hand in the break room and kiss you in the halls. I want you today and I’ll want you tomorrow and the day after that. And the only thing I regret from any of this is not asking you to be my girl sooner.”

His words, his stare, his touch, they healed the senseless wound your insecurity put on your heart. “I’m yours.” You surged forward, your lips crashing against his. He sighed before he returned the kiss, likely feeling the same relief you had. You wished you could put into words how much his assurance meant, but you hoped your kiss expressed it. “Thank you for both coaxing my feelings out of me and assuring me that you want this.”

“Anytime.” He brushed another kiss across your lips. “You know how you said you hoped the next person who dated me knew how lucky they were?” he asked. You remembered. “I'm the lucky one because you’re taking a chance on me.”

“You’re a smooth talker.” You had no clue how you kept the tears at bay. It meant everything that he wanted to be with you. “I think we’re both lucky.”

He smiled at that. “Yeah, but I still don’t deserve you,” he whispered, kissing you again before you could argue that he was more than worthy. “So, you want to spend the day with me?”

“Yeah, I do. We can go on a day date or just talk some more at my place or yours,” you answered, not feeling the need to hide anymore. “That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

“Sweetheart, you just let me fuck you on a sparring mat. You can ask me for anything you want,” he smirked, catching your face between his hands. “But this day date doesn’t count as the nice date I want to take you on. My girl deserves something special.”

Your heart tightened in your chest, your emotions starting to run high again before you took a calming breath. “Then how about after that shower we call in, go to a cafe, get a cup of coffee, and figure out that date together? Maybe I’ll even convince you that you do deserve me.”

He huffed, taking your hands and helping you both up. You’d never be able to look at a pair of sweatpants again without thinking of what transpired there. “Okay, but I’m warning you right now that I probably won’t like the coffee.”

“Why not?”

“Because you didn’t make it,” he smiled. “Maybe we can check out that science exhibit you mentioned.”

You giggled. He remembered. “That would be nice,” you said, leaning close when he slipped his arm around you and guided you toward your bag. “You know, I can make more than just coffee. Just say the word and I’ll cook for you,” you said. You’d love to cook him a nice meal.

“Word,” he deadpanned.

You giggled again. “Later,” you promised. You’d make him something special. “Do you think Alpine will like me?”

“She’ll love you,” he promised, giving you a sheepish smile. “I told her all about you. And I think the last few dinners with Steve and Sam all I talked about was you.”

“You told your cat about me? You're adorable,” you smiled. It was really sweet. “And… Will Steve and Sam be happy?” They were his friends and you hoped they approved.

“Steve will be thrilled.” He huffed again. “But Sam’s opinion doesn't matter. Fuck him.”

With a teasing smile, you asked, “Wait, I thought I was supposed to give Sam a talking to. Are you offering for me to fuck him?” You shrieked when he growled and picked you up, placing you over his shoulder. “Bucky!”

“You’re not fucking anyone but me. You’re my girl and I’ll mark you up to prove it if I have to,” he said, keeping a firm hand on you as he carried you away. “But for now, let’s shower before we call in.”

“Yes, Sergeant.”

Bucky didn’t have to prove anything. He had you in a chokehold from the start and always would. And you were proud to finally be his girl.

Woohoo! You made it! I like to think this reader has bits of Smartie and Mrs. Barnes, and she deserves her man! I know these two will have wonderful times ahead! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

2K notes · View notes

joonieskinks · 1 year ago

Text

Simon “please will you be my fake girlfriend” Riley

Simon couldn’t be happier for John. Finally, he’s met a woman whose head over heels for him, who will stick around during the hard times. The man deserves this, deserves her. It’s about time they got married after all.

Today is his wedding day, and Simon was actually delighted to receive an invite. Although he had to dress up a bit for the event and all, he didn’t mind. It was for one of his greatest friends, and the energy in the room was so positive, so supportive. He can honestly say he felt happy to be here.

That was until he spotted eager mamas eyeing him at the reception, no doubt coming over to set him up with their daughters. Nope- he was not having that whatsoever. He went into full panic mode, trying to avoid their eyes, their presence that was ever closing in on him. Simon turned straight around and made his way to the bar where he found you.

“Gosh, how long does it take to find white wine-?” You complain under your breath before the handsome stranger from the corner of your eye interrupts you.

“Pleasewillyoubemyfakegirlfriend?” The rather tall man asks frantically as your eyes finally meet. Yours, rather confused, and his, rather desperate.

“Uh- sure?” You laugh nervously as you sip your wine that just arrived.

“Great- M’ Simon, I’m from England, I work in the military, we’ve been together six months, ‘right love?.” He explains rather quickly, eyes darting back and forth between you and the mamas rapidly approaching.

But you get the message.

“You can call me that “love” of yours, I work for the government if you should know and you have to act like you want me for this to work, Simon.” You pull him down by his tie to whisper in his ear.

“If you want them to stay away, touch me.” You kiss his cheek and pull away, performing with a laugh.

It disarms Simon how effortless you make this seem, how quick witted you are - this mysterious yet willing woman at the bar. You’ve truly peaked his interest and he’s so grateful. So yea, absolutely he will touch you, a gorgeous woman in this gorgeous dress.

Simon takes you by the waist, pulling you to his body, whispering back how beautiful you look. It makes you blush, looking back at him rather surprised. He’s equally surprised by his own bold actions, but he plays it off good enough and smiles. Glancing at your pink cheeks with a “good” as you’re both interrupted.

“Simon, darling! There you are!” One woman says.

“I’ve been looking for you! May I present my daughter, Bridgette. She’s a nurse in London as a matter of fact.” Another states proudly.

“I’m terribly sorry, mam”, you interrupt, turning towards Simon and tidying up his tie. Your fingers brushing up against his chest, his throat, it gives him shivers. Any excuse to touch him really was your thought process-

“But I’m afraid he’s already spoken for. As of six months ago tonight, actually. Isn’t that right, darling?.” A proud smile on your face, and Simon just thinks you’re absolutely hypnotizing. Tongue in cheek, yes, but he already wants it to be real, to be yours. He just hopes you’ll say yes to dinner after this, and that you actually didn’t accompany anyone here.

“Yea, this is my girlfriend…” he starts, completely blanking.

My God, he didn’t even know your name, and yet he’s utterly entranced. Talk about a backwards way to start off a relationship.

“Y/N,” you stick out a hand to the mama and her nurse daughter, but they just painfully smile, clearly trying to decline “politely”. With that, they mutter an excuse and walk away, already sniffing for the next eligible bachelor around this evening.

“Well. That’s that then. You’re very welcome, boyfriend dearest.” You tease, bringing your wine glass back up to your lips, admiring his features. He really is a handsome man, it surprises you he doesn’t have anyone special in his life.

“Thank you for your help, Y/N.” He says your name on purpose, he wants to test it out on his tongue. He finds he rather likes it. You do as well.

“Can I get you another drink? On me…” Simon shyly asks, leaning against the bar.

“If it means you’ll stay and have one with me, then yes.” You flirt, waiting for his reaction. Alas, a blush appears on his cheeks. It makes you smile, a big, gorgeous man like this- yet he’s rather timid. It’s sweet really.

“It’s nice to meet you Simon, formally.” You stick out your hand for him to shake. His eyes meet your own and he smiles before taking it. Your hands are so soft, he wants to touch you always if it’s like this.

“Likewise, love.”

You two spent the rest of the night together, by the bar chatting, walking through the gardens getting to know one another, he asked you to dance. Hell, even Price and his new bride thought you two were together by the end of the night.

It took an official date or two, but eventually you were.

Who knows, maybe you two would be the next to get hitched. Simon certainly hopes so.

3K notes · View notes

junovrsmp4 · 1 year ago

Text

three is not a crowd

5 times Chris walks in on you and Matt fucking + 1 time he gets to join in on the fun

pairing: established!matt x reader, chris x reader, matt x reader x chris

summary: what it says on the tin basically

warnings: THREESOME, PURE FILTH, dick riding, oral (female & male receiving), teasing, edging, over-stimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, p in v, slight degradation/praising, slight angst, happy ending yay

word count: 6.9K

author’s note: im a whore for both of them. that is all. (also this has plot, and is mostly beta read but i havent slept in hrs so if some mistakes did slip thru my bad

“Hey Matt, have you seen my-” Chris begins to ask as he pushes Matt’s bedroom door open, expecting his brother to either be lazing around in bed or be at his desk, gaming.

What he doesn't expect is the sight he is instead greeted by, of you, Matt’s girlfriend of the last year and a half, astride Matt’s lap, riding his dick while he leans against his headboard, head thrown back and hands grabbing your hips, guiding you, slowly.

Chris is shocked, understandably, and he should just turn around and book it. Instead, he stands frozen, watching the way your head is nestled into the crook of Matt’s neck, your shoulders shaking. If Chris ignores the sound of his own pounding heart, he can almost hear the soft whimpers you’re letting out at each downward thrust of your hips.

At the sound of a soft, deep groan, Chris’ attention shifts to Matt, who has his eyes shut, and his bottom lip pinched between his teeth. There’s something surreal about this scene, seeing Matt, who looks nothing like Chris, but also looks the most like him, fucking this beautiful girl who’s been on his mind for months now.

“Matt…,” he hears you whine loudly against his brother’s neck, and Chris has to grit his teeth, fight against the urge to shove his hands into his pants and fist his growing erection. This shouldn't turn him on so much, hell, he shouldn't even be here right now. He should have run in the opposite direction as soon as he realized what he’d walked in on, but he’s mesmerized by the way you move, your back arching as your hips move back and forth. The slow, sensual, almost hypnotic, movements of your body as you ride Matt’s dick has him clenching his fists, nails digging into his palms and it’s easy to imagine him in Matt’s place as he gets this view of what it might look like to fuck you. Your moans grow louder, and Chris thinks it might be because you’re getting close, and god, he feels so hot underneath his skin.

“Shh baby, didn't you say we needed to be quiet?” Matt whispers against the side of your head. “Can’t have Chris hearing us, can we?”

At the sound of his name, Chris’ heart hammers faster, and he looks up at Matt’s face, only to see that his brother’s gaze was already on him, watching him with a slight smirk before thrusting his hips up, presumably driving his cock deeper into you, making you moan even louder than you already were.

Breaking out of his stupor, Chris stumbles backwards before hightailing it to his room, slamming the door behind him. It takes all of five seconds for him to get his cock out of his sweatpants, furiously jerking off as he leans against his door, biting into the hem of his t-shirt that he’d pulled up over his chest, and only another five seconds before he shoots his cum all over himself.

Chris knows its wrong, wanting his brother's girl. This was never a problem before, because any time he found out Matt liked someone, Chris immediately lost interest. It was the brothers’ code; they never fought over girls, and besides, they always just liked different ones.

You, though…it was hard not to like you, even after he found out Matt had his eyes on you.

Chris remembers the first time he met you, how nice you’d been to him and his brothers, how easily you’d fit into their lives. He’s not going to lie and say he’d wanted you right from the start. It was a gradual thing, slowly creeping up on him before he realized what had gotten him.

You just made him feel so comfortable, and surprisingly, the two of you had a lot in common. But then again, you had a lot in common with Matt, and Nick. And yet, you were so different. You were smart, playful, and so, so kind. You were just the right amount of goofy and serious, and you just, fit well into the dynamic Chris and his brothers shared.

It shouldn't have surprised him when Matt eventually told him and Nick that he was into you and planned to ask you out. It all happened so quickly after that. You and Matt had gotten together and, now you weren't just the new friend that Chris and his brothers were always hanging out with, but his brother's (his brother who was also his best friend, really) girlfriend.

Which is why Chris knows it’s fucked up. Wanting you. And he knows it’s even more fucked up that he wishes he could have a repeat of what happened a few weeks ago when he accidentally walked in on you and Matt. The amount of times he’s jacked off to that memory alone the past few nights is insane, his mind supplying images to create his own version of events where he doesn't run away.

Especially fucked up is the fact that Matt had seen him, had looked cocky that he’d caught Chris watching them, and even that fact hadn’t deterred Chris from chasing orgasm after orgasm to the thought of fucking you, imagining how tight and wet your pussy might be, what it might taste like.

Speaking of the fucker who seemed totally unfazed by recent events, Matt sat across Chris, scrolling through his phone, while Nick sat beside him, editing their latest video. Chris was trying his hardest not to flip the fuck out, but his whole nervous system seemed like it was fried. Nick had already yelled at him twice to stop moving so much because he was apparently jostling the table too much, and Matt had just let out a bemused chuckle without lifting his eyes from his phone the entire time.

Just as Chris was about to get up and retreat to him room, the doorbell rings, before Matt gets a series of texts.

“Oh, she’s here-” Matt says, before shooting out of his chair and rushing to great you at the front door.

“Hey, hey, hey!” your cheery voice rings through the hallway, as you and Matt make your way into the kitchen, and Chris almost chokes on the sip of Pepsi he’d just taken because holy fuck-

You were wearing a short, tight black dress that hugged the lines and curves of your body just right, the square neckline barely covering your chest. His eyes slipped further down to the way the fabric of the dress cinched at your waist, and to the slit at the side of the dress that came up to mid-thigh. That and the combination of tall strappy heels you had on made your legs look…really good. So good that Chris wishes he was between those legs, licking a path up your calf to your inner thighs, leaving bruising kisses to mar the smooth, unblemished skin of your legs, before finally, finally-

Nick hoots just then, exclaiming about how hot your fit looks, pulling Chris out of his daze. He watches as you bask in the compliments being showered onto you by both Nick and Matt now, and can't help but smile at the way you try to hide your blushing face.

So, it’s completely out of left field when he sees you again later that night, sitting on the couch with your hands covering your face but this time it’s to hide the loud moans that threaten to slip from your mouth as you watch Matt kneel in front of you, his mouth pressing kisses into your inner thighs…just like Chris had imagined doing earlier.

It’s ridiculous really, how Chris had been feeling slightly normal after dinner with you and his brothers, because as awkward as he may have been feeling about you and Matt, being around you and his brothers, having good food and just laughing about random shit made him feel really fucking good. Like everything was normal and he wasn't fantasizing about fucking his brother’s girlfriend. Like he hadn't accidentally walked in on them fucking.

Of course it’s just his fucking luck that as soon he’s feeling just that slightest bit of normalcy, he’d decided to go to the kitchen and grab a Pepsi from the fridge at 3 AM, only to find his brother about to eat you out on the couch.

“Matt-” you whine, as your back arches off the couch, one of your hands moving to grab Matt’s hair, the other trying and failing to hold back your moans. “Matt, please- nnggh- stop teasing.”

Chris feels all his blood rush down south and it leaves him lightheaded. The low lighting in the room accentuates the shadows of your body and he can see the muscles in your legs flex as your thighs clench around Matt’s head, trying to get him to move his mouth closer to where you want him. You’re not in the tight black dress he’d seen you in earlier, but in a blue baby tee and black lace-trimmed hipster briefs. There’s an almost imperceptible quiver that wracks through your entire body in anticipation for what’s to come.

Matt doesn't keep you waiting for long. Chris' breathing grows even more jagged as he watches Matt’s fingers push your panties to the side before he runs his tongue flat up your pussy. Chris can't see as much as he’d like to, but his overactive imagination does the job for him, imagining how wet you must be.

Chris feels like such a sick perv for still standing there, watching with wide eyes as Matt (his literal brother) enthusiastically licks and kisses your pussy, and he almost wonders how neither of you haven't noticed him yet. Then again, you and Matt seem so lost in each other, and now there’s another ugly thought circling Chris’ brain, one that makes his chest hurt a little.

He forgoes his Pepsi for the night and quietly returns back to his room, cock half-hard, and his heart just the slightest bit heavy.

“Alright, what’s going on with you?” Nick asks him, while his eyes are still fixed on his phone.

He and Chris were sitting on the couch (Chris had been avoiding the section that you and Matt had used during your late night rendezvous), and Chris was idly flipping through his Netflix watch list.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Chris says with a heavy sigh, slumping further into the couch.

It’s quiet, and the silence makes Chris look up at Nick, who was already looking at him with a curious frown.

“Seriously, what the fuck is up with you?” Nick asks, and he actually looks concerned, which throws Chris off a bit. “You’re usually bouncing off the walls and annoying the shit out of everyone in your nearest vicinity, but lately you've just been, I don't know- I’m like actually worried, did something happen? Is everything okay?”

Chris swallows around the lump that had formed in his throat and takes a minute. To do what, he doesn't know. It’s not like he’s going to prepare himself to tell Nick what he’d witnessed, twice, and how he was feeling about it. Really, how does one go about telling their triplet brother that they’d accidentally witnessed their other brother in an intimate situation with said brother’s partner, not once, but twice, and had enjoyed it, to the point of having nightly fantasies about it?

There were more complicated feelings lurking just under the surface, more than just Chris wanting to fuck you, but he did not have the mental bandwidth to unpack all that, so that was that. It’s not like he had honest to god feelings-

“See, at this point, you would’ve been yapping away-” Nick says, interrupting his train of thought, “-but instead, you’re just sitting there, looking all sad and miserable.”

“Okay, I don't look sad and miserable,” Chris says with a roll of his eyes. At least, he hopes he doesn't. “I’m just tired dude. Haven't been sleeping well lately.”

“Right.”

“What? It’s the truth.”

“Didn't say you were lying,” Nick says, matter-of-factually, in that signature Nick tone that lets everyone know when he isn't buying their bullshit.

“I’m fine,” Chris says slowly, waiting for Nick to stop looking at him so intensely.

“Sure,” Nick drawls out. “You’re also a shitty liar.”

“Fuck you,” Chris grumbles, chucking the TV remote at Nick, who flails to try and dodge it, letting out an indignant squawk when it bounces off his shoulder and falls to the ground.

This, of course, results in Nick throwing whatever was closest to him at Chris, which happens to be an empty water bottle, and eventually they're just chucking it back and forth, cursing at each other in between laughter.

It’s the most relaxed Chris has felt in weeks.

Too bad you had to walk in at that exact moment.

“Hey guys!” you say cheerily, plopping down on the couch, next to Chris. You’d stayed over for a couple of nights now, as you usually do, and Chris should be extremely used to your presence, except he feels his skin prickle as soon as your close to him, close enough for him to feel the warmth radiating off of your skin.

“God, how are you so chipper every morning?” Nick asks, shaking his head with a poorly hidden smile.

You twirl a strand of your hair around your finger, and bit the corner of your bottom lip. “It helps that I wake up to one of the hottest guys ever, and then get to hang out with his hot as fuck brothers,” you say with a smirk, waggling your eyebrows at Nick.

Chris wishes you hadn't just said that because now his mind wanders (more like sprints) to the memory of this morning, when he’d walked past Matt’s open bedroom. He’d heard the telltale sounds of skin slapping against skin, and your voice, whining Matt’s name over and over, which had him stopping right before Matt’s door, eyes wide, mouth agape. This couldn't be happening right? There was no way he’d walked into this situation for a third time.

Chris debates on whether he should just turn back around, go downstairs, out the front door, and bash his head against a tree, or if he should soldier on and just walk past to get to his room.

The sounds were getting to him. His cock strained against his grey sweatpants, creating a very obvious tent. His clothes suddenly felt a size too small, the air around him too thick, and he felt sweat break out on his forehead. He should leave, run far, far away from his house probably, but a sick part of him wants more than anything to see what’s got you moaning this time.

He rounds the corner and is met with a sight that almost has him falling to his knees.

It’s unfair, how incredibly gorgeous you look straddling Matt’s thighs, bouncing on his dick rhythmically, your head thrown back. You’re leaning back on your hands, supported on Matt’s knees, and Chris watches the way your body undulates as you swivel your hips, ribs flaring as your chest heaves. Every gasp you let out is a punch to Chris’ gut, leaving him feeling winded.

You’re so lost in the throes of pleasure that you don't hear when Chris groans out loud, but he knows exactly when Matt hears him, because his head rolls lazily towards him, his hands that had been grabbing your hips tightening, and there’s little to no warning before Matt’s flipping you over and thrusting into you with vigor.

“Does that feel good baby?” Chris hears Matt ask, his voice rough and low. “Tell me how good my dick makes you feel.”

“Fuck, so good, Matt- please, please, please-” your moans turning into whimpers as Matt’s thrust pick up in pace. Chris can tell exactly when Matt hits the bundle of nerves inside you that has you seeing stars because your back arches off his bed, hands scrambling to find purchase. Your fingers clench into the pillow above your head, as you beg Matt to go harder, faster.

Chris’ eyes bounce back to Matt, who’s watching you in awe, and he’s seen that look on his face numerous times before, like Matt can't get enough of you. Chris’ breath hitches, because he wishes it was him, in Matt’s place. Him, worshiping you, making you feel good. He wishes he was the one that was ripping those sounds out of you.

He catches Matt’s eyes just then, and Chris has never wanted to punch him in the face more than he does in that moment, because it almost feels like he’s mocking Chris.

See what I have, what you so desperately want…

Chris holds up a middle finger, directed at Matt and whatever god was up there who’d clearly forsaken him. He had half the mind to just yell but the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass you. So with a scathing look at Matt, and a mouthed fuck you, he walks to his room, the sound of Matt’s laughter the last thing he hears before Chris angrily slams the door and sheds his clothes, pumping his cock to the memory of your voice.

It’s the hardest he’s cum all week.

Chris walks in on Matt pounding you against the wall leading to the garage. At this point, it had to be on purpose. The two of you had to be planning this, because how was it always Chris that ended up walking in on them, and not Nick? Knowing his brother, Nick would’ve gone around voicing his disgust at having caught you and Matt fucking, any chance he got.

So, it had to be on purpose.

Matt’s whispering dirty things in your ear, loud enough for Chris to hear every word.

“You’re so fucking pretty baby-”

“I want to ruin you, want you to feel me for days-”

“You’re such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?” and that has you letting out a particularly loud whine. The next bit Matt whispers into your ear is too inaudible for Chris to comprehend but he can tell how much it affects you, because you absolutely lose it just then.

Fuck this. Fuck all of this.

“Can y’all stick to fucking in Matt’s bed?”

At the sound of Chris’ voice, you look up at him, startled, and it’s electrifying, your stare. Chris sees your eyebrows furrow, your lips, plump from being bitten (by yourself, or Matt, who cares at this point), fall open. Matt’s shoulders stiffen for a second, so Chris knows he’s aware that Chris is right behind them, but the asshole just keeps fucking going. And you, you’re still staring.

“Chris-” you gasp, your nails digging into Matt’s shoulder. Chris thinks you’re going to push him away, scramble to pull yourself together.

You surprise him by pushing back down onto Matt’s cock with even more fervor, your hands moving up Matt’s neck to grab onto his hair, pulling hard.

Chris watches you cum on Matt’s cock for the first time that night, all while your eyes were locked on his.

Chris doesn't like being angry. He very rarely is. And usually, he gets over it really quick.

Which is why it’s shocking to everyone when he gets cold and hostile towards Matt seemingly out of nowhere, and the anger doesn't subside.

It gets in the way of their work. Filming becomes exhausting, and it leaves all three brothers feeling frustrated and annoyed at each other.

It’s in the middle of filming a new car video when it all goes to head. Nick and Matt had attempted to film a video, but Chris couldn’t hold back the jabs at Matt, interrupting him every time he spoke, insulting him for no reason whatsoever, which only made Matt retaliate just as hard.

“That’s it-” Nick yells, his hands pushing his hair out of his face in frustration. “I’ve fucking had it with you two. I’m getting the fuck out of this car and the two of you are going to stay in here and talk. Don’t even bother coming back in until you sort out whatever-” he gestures wildly between Matt and Chris, “-is going on with you two!”

And with that, Nick storms back into their house.

Chris stares out of the window with his arms crossed, seething. He can tell Matt is looking at him, can see part of his reflection on the window, but Chris isn’t going to give him the satisfaction of breaking first.

Matt, much to Chris’ annoyance, was completely calm and collected.

“Chris-” Matt begins to say, but Chris just chucks his empty Pepsi can at him without looking. He hears it clatter against something (the steering wheel, he thinks), before dropping down onto the car floor with a dull thud.

Matt sighs, and Chris wants to yell, because Chris is the one that should be huffing and sighing, he’s the one that’s tired of all this bullshit.

“Are you trying to prove something?” Chris asks, because he never could stay quiet for too long. “Is that it? What the actual fuck Matt?”

Chris had fully turned to face Matt, who at least had the decency to look somewhat abashed now. His face was tinged pinked, and he was fiddling with his rings.

Chris continues. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but if you’re just trying to get me to see she’s your girl, I fucking get it, okay? You’ve made that really fucking clear. Did I say or do something to warrant this shit, because if you think I’m out to get her, I’m not, okay? Jesus- do you know how fucking insane-”

“She wants you bro.”

Chris blinks. He opens his mouth, and then shuts it.

“I used to catch her staring at you sometimes, and there were times she’d just keep scrolling through pictures of the two of us together- you and me, I mean- and…I don’t know, she’d have this look on her face.” Matt trails off. He looks at Chris, trying to gauge his reaction so far, but truth be told, Chris was still trying to process what Matt had initially said.

“What…?”

“Look, the two of us are happy together. I love her, she loves me, but I think she…” Matt coughs out, and it’s the first time since this whole thing has started that Chris has seen Matt this awkward. “She’s into you too. She never really told me, but it got pretty obvious after a while. And eventually, I- I started bringing you up, when we- um, yeah. She wants us both.”

Chris starts laughing. Because he doesn’t know what else to do.

“Alright, good prank dude- I’m still so fucking mad at you but-”

“I’m not kidding, Chris.”

Right. Because why would Matt joke about something like this?

“Um…”

“Yeah…”

And that’s how Chris finds himself back in Matt’s room. You and Matt were sitting on his bed, albeit a little far apart, meanwhile Chris had taken a seat in Matt’s gaming chair. Chris almost wants to call the two of you out on the pure torture you’d put him through the past few weeks, but one look at your face has him abandoning that train of thought.

You look so…remorseful. You’re slightly curled in on yourself, like you’re bracing for some sort of attack, and Chris’ heart melts. The last thing he wants is for you to feel upset, so he tries to lighten the mood.

“So, do you just wanna see which one of us has the better dick or-?”

He smiles as you sputter, eyes wide as you finally look up at him.

“There we go,” Chris whispers. “You’re finally looking at me.”

“Chris…I’m so sorry,” you whisper, lips trembling. “God, this is so stupid, why did we decide to tell him-”

“Hey, hey-” Chris chides. “I think I’ve been kept in the dark long enough, actually. I just wish y’all hadn’t used such a weird ass fucking way to tell me.”

“Well, to be fair, she didn’t even know you’d seen us that first couple of times,”

“Oh, god-”

“-And, we kinda assumed you’d take the fucking hint or something.”

“Yeah, I thought the hint was ‘I know you wanna fuck my girl, so I’m gonna make sure you catch us fucking every chance we get so you stay the fuck away’,” Chris says with a raised brow, staring deadpan at Matt.

“Wait, what-” you start, but you’re interrupted by Matt.

“Yeah, he’s wanted to fuck you for a while too.”

And that's how Chris finds himself with a front row view of Matt fucking you, up close and personal. Matt has you on all fours, facing Chris, while he pounds into you from behind, hard and deep. Each thrust punches a high-pitched moan out of you, and Chris watches, enraptured by the way you take it.

Chris watches to his heart's content that night, no longer worried about getting caught, no longer stressed about wanting to fuck you.

Chris watches you fall apart in Matt's hands over and over, and all he can think about is when he can finally have his turn.

+ 1

They’d had to wait for the perfect moment, a night they could be sure none of them would be interrupted.

They'd been planning for this night for a few days now, and it was finally here.

Chris and Matt stand side-by-side in front of Matt’s bed, arms crossed over their chest as they watch you squirm in his bed, their combined attention making you nervous. They’re both barely dressed, Chris in a black tank top and grey sweatpants, the front of which were already tented from his hard dick, while Matt was just in his black boxers. The low lighting of the room made Matt’s rings glisten as he rubbed at the stubble that he’d slowly allowed to grow on his face.

“How are we feeling, baby?” Matt asks you, smirking at the way you visibly gulp. “You ready for us?”

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, looking up at Chris through your lashes before nodding.

That’s all the cue he needs.

Chris stalks over to you, slowly, climbing over the bed and crawling over you, his hands landing on either side of your head as he holds himself above you. You lay back, your hair fanning around your head on the pillow, your eyes wide as you wait for Chris’ next move.

“Can I kiss you?” Chris asks, wetting his lips, and he doesn’t have to wait long for his answer. Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling at the strands close to his nape, bringing his lips onto yours. The kiss is heady, a wild mess of tongue and teeth, because you’d both been waiting for this, dying for it, and here it was, finally happening.

“Chris-” you gasp, open mouth sliding over the hot skin of his cheek as he lowers his head to the crook of your neck, biting harsh kisses into the skin there, before tracing his tongue across your jaw.

“Fuck, fuck- you smell so good, I need you so bad ma-” Chris blabbers, his brain-to-mouth filter long gone. He vaguely registers Matt settling onto the bed, leaning against the headboard, as Chris kisses a path down your body, laving every inch of skin he can access with nips and kisses. You arch your back as Chris circles one of your nipples with his tongue, sucking on it as he flicks the other. He alternates between kissing and nipping your nipples, all the while, you have an almost painful grip on his hair, pushing your chest harder into his face.

Matt watches your face intently, seeing the way your features scrunch up in pleasure, mouth wide open as you gasp and whine. There’s a small part of him that knows he shouldn’t be so okay with his own brother having his way with his girlfriend, but it’s almost like he gets a 4K view of what it might usually look like when Matt’s the one doing these things to you.

Chris continues his path downwards, fingers hooking into the sides of your panties and slowly, agonizingly slowly, pulling them off of you. Your legs instinctively squeeze shut when the cold air hits your wet core, but Chris’s hands gently pry them open, staring at you in wonder.

“You’re so fucking wet, fuck-” Chris groans, before licking a stripe up the seam where your thigh meets your crotch, so close to where you actually want his tongue.

“Please, please-” you whimper, pushing your hips up closer to his lips, feeling his hot breath fan over you pussy. You hear both him and Matt chuckle, before Chris has his mouth on you, licking the wetness gathered in your folds. All you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears and the obscene sounds of Chris’s mouth as he eats you out like a man starving.

It’s almost too much, the way he’s sucking on your clit, before pushing his tongue into you, his face pushed deep, you’re sure he can’t breath. The pleasure builds, heat pooling low in your stomach. You feel Matt’s fingers brush against your forehead, pushing the hair that was starting to stick to it from all the sweat.

“You feel good baby?” Matt asks, tone soft, but his eyes glint dangerously. “One of us wasn’t enough for you, was it? You’re such a dirty girl, wanting me and my brother.”

You whine, head pushing against his thigh closest to your head. Chris laughs, pulling his head back to chime in.

“Greedy little slut, that’s what she is,” he says, cheeks rosy and face glistening from the nose down, his chin absolutely soaking wet. “You gonna cum soon ma?”

You don’t even know what you respond with, just that Chris goes back to eating you out, this time, bringing his fingers to your entrance, sliding one finger, then two, into your sopping wet cunt as he licks random paths across your folds, occasionally circling your clit and sucking on it harshly, all while thrusting his fingers in and out of you, causing you to buck your hips up wildly. Your orgasm, only the first one of the night, is fast approaching, and your thighs clench around Chris’ head. The only warning he gets is a sudden yell of his name before you gush all over his face.

“Did you just- did she just squirt?” Chris asks, eyes wide as he takes in the mess that you’d made. His face and neck were now fully wet, and there was a perfectly round wet spot right underneath you. His fingers flutter over your now slightly puffy pussy, watching your folds quiver.

“Fuck, it’s too much- Chris, wait,” you whine, hands moving to grab Chris’ wrist. He doesn’t stop with his ministrations though, fingers pumping in and out of you, prodding at the bundle of nerves inside you that caused your vision to white out. It was fast, intense, and Chris manages to pull a second orgasm out of you before you’d even managed to catch your breath from the first one.

Chris sits up on his knees, reaching his arms behind him and pulling his tank top off, throwing it behind him. He hooks his arms around your thighs before pulling you down the bed, closer to him, allowing Matt to slot himself behind you.

“Can you turn over for me ma?” Chris asks with a gentle pat against your hip. It takes some effort, your limbs feel loose and languid, but you manage to flip onto your stomach. Hands grab your face, tipping your head up, and you see your boyfriend looking at you with a smirk, tongue peeking out to run across his teeth.

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” he asks, voice like dripping honey with a hint of something razor-sharp. “This everything you imagined?”

“Yes- oh god, Matt- I need you, please-”

“You have me baby,” he coos. “You have me and Chris. That’s what you wanted, right? ‘Cause one dick was never enough to keep you satisfied.”

“Ngghh- please, please, I-” you whimper, mouthing at Matt’s dick through his boxers, startled when you feel a sudden smack against your ass, pain blossoming across your skin.

“If she’s already this cock dumb, I wonder how she’s gonna get when we actually get our dicks in her,” Chris wonders out loud with an amused huff, palming at your ass cheeks as he rubs his clothed dick against it.

You continue begging, your pussy soaking wet and clenching around nothing in anticipation for what’s to come, hips arching off the bed while your back dips low, shoulders tucked between Matt’s spread thighs as you lick him through the only piece of fabric that is keeping you from tasting him, from having his cock fill your mouth.

Chris smooths his palm down your back, making you arch your back even further, before he spreads your cheeks, seeing the way you twitch at being put on display.

“I think she’s waited long enough, hasn’t she?” Matt asks Chris, nodding his head slightly as if to tell Chris to get on with it. Chris doesn’t waste any time pushing his sweats down his thighs, freeing his cock. You turn your head back to try and peek at it from over your shoulder, but Matt has a firm hand on your head pushing you towards his crotch while he pulls his dick out of his boxers. With one hand holding the back of your head, and the other around his dick, Matt slaps it against your cheek, amused at the way you so desperately try and get him to guide his cock into your mouth instead.

Simultaneously, Chris is behind you, rubbing the tip of his dick through your folds, gathering the wetness there. Above you, you feel Matt lean towards his dresser, before rifling through the top drawer and chucking something at Chris. There’s a sound of a bottle cap clicking open, and lube being squeezed out, before you hear the squelch of it as Chris spreads it over his dick.

Later, you’ll think they must have planned this head of time, but both Matt and Chris decide to push their dicks into you at the same time, Matt feeding you his cock, pushing past your lips, applying gentle pressure to the back of your head, while Chris spreads your folds apart and drives his dick into you, the tip catching inside you for a moment, before he thrusts his hips and pushes his dick deeper into you.

“Look at that,” Chris says, smacking the palms of both his hands onto your cheeks at the same time, before kneading at them. “She takes dick really fucking well.”

“It’s like she’s made for it, isn’t she?”

Chris fucks you like he has all the time in the world, savoring the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, fascinated by the sight of his dick disappearing in you at every thrust. You stretch around him so beautifully, and you’re so fucking tight, he wonders how he managed to fit it all in you in one go.

At the other end, Matt watches you with soft affection as you suck on his cock, tears streaming down your face from the exertion on your body and minimal air supply. At every thrust of Chris’ hips, you would get pushed closer to Matt, which would push his dick deeper into your mouth, making you almost gag on it.

You have no concept of time anymore, or where your body starts and Chris’ and Matt’s end. You feel like one big mess of limbs, moving fluidly, with the common purpose of chasing your orgasm. You hear Matt’s groans getting louder above you, and you know he’s getting close. You’re not far behind yourself, but Chris still seems like he’s nowhere close to being done.

Pulling your mouth off of Matt’s cock, you circle your hand around the base of it, before stroking your hand up and down, twisting it around the head. You swipe your thumb across the slit at the top while you tongue at the underside of the head, all while looking up at Matt through hooded eyes.

“Cum on my face, Matt, please-” you beg, mouth slightly open, a line of spit connecting your tongue to his dick. Chris' thrusts are picking up, but you keep your elbows planted firmly on the bed below to keep yourself steady for Matt. There’s a tingle building low in your spine, but you focus on Matt, the way he looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. His hair is a mess, and his body is flushed. The hand he has on your head grips your hair tight, and the other joins your hand in pumping his dick. It only takes a few more seconds of that before Matt lets out a loud groan of your name, spurts of thick, hot cum landing across your face, and you close your eyes as it drips down your face, some of it landing on your tongue.

Matt leans back heavily against the headboard, and before you can register anything, you’re being flipped onto your back, face still covered in Matt’s cum. Your shoulders hit Matt’s chest as Chris crowds against you on the bed, his hands now on the back of your knees, pushing your legs back against your chest, before thrusting his dick back into you.

The sudden shift has you blinking back stars, and this new angle has Chris’ dick brushing against your sweet spot on every thrust, and all you can do is sob at the immense pleasure you feel. Matt circles his arms around you, one hand playing with one of your nipples, while the other moves down your stomach and edges closer to your clit. The tingling sensation grows, and grows, your hands scrambling to find purchase on Chris’ shoulders as he thrusts particularly deep into you before you finally snap, screaming as your third orgasm is ripped from you, the force of it pushing Chris’ cock out of you as you squirt all over him, yourself, and the bed, legs shaking uncontrollably.

You’re fully gasping and sobbing now, the intensity of your orgasm wracking through your whole body. You watch through hooded, teary eyes, as Chris leans over you, furiously stroking his cock as he soaks in the view of you, hot and messy, ruined because of him, before he too eventually reaches his orgasm, cum pulsing out of him and landing high on your chest, across your nipples, one spurt even hitting your chin.

The three of you are a heaping mess of limbs after, all basking in the afterglow of a night well spent, tired, but satiated. Matt and Chris lay on either side of you, stroking whatever part of your skin they can reach, occasionally batting each other’s hands away and pulling you closer to either side, like you’re not all squished together already.

“We should do that again sometime,” you say after a long beat of silence. Matt snorts, eyes closed, but the corners of his lips are quirked up in a small smile.

“Y’all are crazy if you think I’m never fucking you again after I just got a taste,” Chris states. “Besides, I think there’s a lot of lost time I need to make up for, hm?”

After that night, Chris gets to have his turn with you, over and over. Sometimes, Matt is present, and the brothers somehow always turn things into a competition of who can make you cum the quickest, who can make you cum multiple times, who can make you absolutely incoherent by the end of the night.

Now Chris had his own reason for always being so chipper in the morning. It helps that he finally gets to fuck the hottest girl he’s seen, who just happens to also be fucking his brother.

author’s note: i put too much fucking effort into an idea that essentially started as a joke, its gonna be so funny if this flops because i literally stayed up till 4 am twice in a row to write this lmao- anyways, let me know what you think! my inbox is open and waiting for your thoughts (: likes, comments and reblogs r much appreciated <3

taglist 🩵 (comment on my pinned post to be added or removed):

@luverboychris @bigbeefybitch @liz-stxrn @slut4chriss @sturniolosgirl @coochiedestroyer1 @kvtie444 @vschrissturn @hercigaretteblush @fwskullz @m4rriii @anabanana28 @sturniolosange1 @webbersturn @odeezier @johnniesrealwife @freshsturns @marlenafortuna @carolineheartsmatthew @incndescentglow @starniolosposts @urfavgirllyyyyy @mattsturniolosworld @lilyloveschris @sturniozo @lookingformyromeo @heartss4matthewq @lanasturniolo @ezziewinchester @s-s-842 @sturnlova @55sturn @chrisopeningabag

#junovrs writes #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader

6K notes · View notes