#i welcome all takes even the ones where he just gets worse over the years

[romanticoutcast]

Now that you somehow mentioned it I’d love to know how you’d see tom and his personality evolving, like how he would behave 8-10 years later(whether it’s in a canon or non-canon setting)! Bc i have my very own interpretation of late-teen/young adult sawyer and I love to know other opinions abt this kind of stuff— (btw I already read and loved some of your fanfics (those where he isn’t ded lol) so I have an overall idea but i love annoying ppl)

okay okay so...i have a LOT of thoughts about tom’s personal character development both in canon, and what it might lead to in the future.

this is all gonna seem like an unnecessary summary of tom’s character, but it’s all leading up to a point i sWEAR LMAO.

i think conspiracy could serve as a huge catalyst for tom’s character development, among other things. throughout the sequel novels, he continued to worm his way out of situations he deliberately put himself and others into multiple times, mostly by his own cleverness, while always making a big show of it. the more he proves himself in the public eye, the more he wants to do it again and becomes willing to create dangerous problems just to do so. he shows the town time and time again how smart he is, how special he is, how promising his future will be. in conspiracy, tom doesn’t impress the town in court with his detective skills, like he’s done so often before. it’s not another opportunity for him to show off, the way he wanted it to be. instead he makes himself look like a liar when confessing his harebrained schemes, because everyone knows none of it makes any sense at all, and so far tom has been nothing but a beacon of intelligence and common sense in their eyes. he becomes speechless and cries about all the ways his stupid mistakes have made jim suffer, and he’s gone too far this time to fix it. he humiliates himself publicly. just as tom’s rise to glory in st. petersburg was always a public matter (like he tried to make it), so is his downfall.

he got such a big head from all this past “”success”” that he truly believes it’s impossible for him to fail. once he does, he panics, loses all of his self-assurance, and tries to get jim out of the trouble he got him into the fastest, most straightforward way possible. tom, the one who is constantly lording his intelligence over huck’s head and scolding him for being a “saphead,” desperately tells huck that he wishes he had just listened to him instead of going after glory, that he was an idiot for playing with fire. it’s obvious that the events in conspiracy have taken a huge toll on tom’s arrogance and pride, and one can only hope that he won’t mess up the same way again after this.

warning, this take on tom’s character has a LOT of sawyerberry. another catalyst for tom’s growth could be huck leaving st. petersburg. i think it’s safe to say that although tom loves huck as his best friend, he takes his friendship for granted. huck needs to get out of town, find himself to gain more confidence and make relationships outside of tom so that he’s not so codependent on him. tom needs to realize just how much huck doesn’t need him, how much huck can thrive outside of st. petersburg and without tom. huck has always been a compassionate, generous person, and tom needs to become more appreciative of all the traits he dismissed before.

also, huck influencing tom to think outside of society’s set of rules that he, for the most part, is so stuck in. huck influences tom to adopt more abolitionist sentiments. strictly speaking in a romantic sense, the realization that tom might have feelings for huck causes him to go through the very long, difficult process of struggling to accept what he feels and decide whether he’s going to stay inside his comfort zone, where it is safe, or leave it and everyone inside. him realizing he just might be part of a marginalized group of people, a group of people that a christian town like his would find the feelings he feels, that he didn’t ask for, despicable, could be a huge wake-up call.

basically i feel that through nothing but fate (and huck) humbling tom a LOT could he go down a much better path than if he just continued to make a great name for himself all the time in st. petersburg. always staying within the comfortability of his hometown and having everyone inside of it think so highly of him all the time isn’t a challenge to tom’s worst personal flaws. going against the grain of society alongside huck just might be though.

in the end i just think of a young adult tom as someone who is still too proud at times for his own good, still gets wound up too easily over good literature. but instead he moons over books within the strict safety net of his brain. he’s just as clever and cunning and capable as he has ever been, but through years and years of reflection and the very difficult process of bettering himself, he decides he doesn’t want to go to the country’s greatest law school, or become judge thatcher’s apprentice, or president! he doesn’t feel the need for the same glory he used to!! he just wants to be with huck, and so they live in a humble house on the countryside, where they’re afforded some privacy.

he’s still himself, still a somewhat deeply flawed guy. but he’s trying to be better.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Difficult V

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: A trip to Mami's hometown

It's not often that you don't go back to Norway with Mumma for the international break. You go with her most of the time to see her parents but this time you're staying in Spain with Mami.

It's a shorter break than usual so uprooting your life and forcing you through jetlag is probably worse than just leaving you in Spain with Mami.

Which is why you're in the car driving to Zaragoza, where Mami is from, for the week to see your Abeuala and Abuelo. Mami says she's got a fun week planned for you both but you don't know if you believe her.

She said that she had a fun day planned a few days ago but all you did was feed the ducks at the park and then spent nearly an hour in the art shop as Mami debated different types of pencils.

"There she is!" Abuelo says as you jump out of the car. He grabs you, throwing you in the air and catching you again.

"Abeulo!"

"Look at you, bebita! Looking more and more like your Mumma everyday!"

You grin. "That's what Mami says!"

"Your Mami has good eyes." He puts you back down on the ground. "Now, I'm pretty sure your Abuela has made a cake just for you inside. Do you want to go in and check?"

You're off like a shot before he even finishes his sentence and Mapi is left to bring your bags in by herself.

"What, no welcome for your daughter?"

"Hello, María," Her father says," Thank you for bringing the little one with you. Your mother has been getting ready for her all month. You'll be lucky if you get the bebita back."

"She'll have to take it up with Ingrid," Mapi replies, dragging the bags inside.

You're already sitting on the kitchen counters, being fed bites of cake as Mapi's mother multitasks between feeding you and whipping up another dessert from scratch.

"Hola, Mama."

"Hola, María," Her mother says," You are late. We expected you earlier."

"It is a long drive, Mama. We had to take a break for lunch."

Mapi's Mama raises a brow. "Why did you stop? Are my lunches not filling enough? You had to stop somewhere else to eat? I made lunch specifically for you."

"Mama! Stop putting words in my mouth. We-"

"Can we have second lunch, Abeula? I'm still hungry."

"Of course you can, bebita! I can always trust you to eat my cooking."

"I love your cooking!"

Abuela swings you up into her arms as she flits around the kitchen getting out the lunch she'd put in the fridge.

"Now, you go and watch some tv with your Abuelo. If you eat all your lunch then there is dessert waiting for you."

Your time in Zaragoza is spent very much like your first day. Abuela cooks more food than you've ever seen in your life and you eat it all like you've been starving for years.

Today is different though.

Today Mami has taken you to a storage locker. She hasn't said much about it and she stops in front of the door.

"Bebita," She says," It's very important that you keep this a secret."

You frown. "From who, Mami? From Abuela and Abuelo?"

"No," She laughs," From your Mumma."

"Why?"

"Bebita, I'm serious. Promise this is our secret."

"Okay."

Mami opens the door to the locker and you gasp.

"It's a motorcycle! There's a little one too!"

You're right.

There's a big one that looks like Mami could sit on comfortably. She doesn't touch that one. She grabs the little one. It's exactly like the big one but smaller.

She wheels the little one out of the locker and pops it into the back of the car. It doesn't take long at all for Mami to drive to a dirt track.

"This is your helmet," She says, attaching it to your head and knocking on it to prove it works," And these are your kneepads and elbowpads. What is the important rule?"

"Don't tell Mumma."

"No, the other one. The one I told you in the car."

You think for a moment. "Oh! Squeeze the breaks if I'm scared!"

"And?"

You pout. "But, Mami-"

"No, what's the other rule?"

You sigh. "Don't let the arrow go over the five."

"That's right. I'm going to be holding you the entire time. It's just like your normal bike at home. Now, if- Bebita!"

Mapi scrambles after you, grabbing onto the back of your little motorcycle to keep you upright.

You have no fear though. In fact, you're thoroughly enjoying yourself as you go up and down the bumps in the track, shrieking your joy for the whole world to hear.

"Mami! Mami!" You say," Can I go faster?"

"I don't know, bebita. I think-"

"Is it because you're scared? You don't have to hold on if you're scared. I'm a big girl now!"

Mapi sputters. "I absolutely do need to hold on!" She tells you," And I'm not scared."

"I think you are."

"I'm not!"

"Are!"

"Not!"

"Are!"

It takes a lot of convincing to get you to accept that your dirtbike is staying in the secret storage locker in Zaragoza with her own bike. It's all you talk about as Mapi drives you home at the end of the week.

Your whole short life has now been taken over by the dirt track and your bike. It's all you want to talk about, even as Mapi tries to turn on the radio to drown out your words.

Ingrid is waiting for you both in the house but you completely bypass her, ducking under her arm and immediately running to the tv.

"She hasn't seen me for a week," Ingrid says," And it's like I don't exist."

You fiddle with the remote, flicking through channels until you find the motocross race that's currently going on, falling to the floor so you can watch, pressed up against the tv as close as you can get without being told off.

Ingrid's eyes narrow.

"Mapi," She says," What have you done?"

"Why do you always think I've done something?"

"Because I know your parents didn't introduce her to that. What did you do?"

"Nothing!"

"Bebita, what did Mami show you while I was away?"

"Nothing, Mumma!"

[solbaby7]

Wanting You, Wanting Me

pairing: azriel x reader

based off an anonymous request- got carried away but I tried to stay within the guidelines; this was actually a really cute concept

warnings: angst at first but it gets fluffy towards the end, swearing, jealousy, mutual pining, mentions of nightmares, sleep deprivation, probably some typos

summary: Silent yearning only remains silent for so long when you suspect your crush likes your best friend instead

--

Elaine was like flowers budding in the Spring; new and fresh, full of promise and beauty. She was kind and caring, compassionate and soft-spoken, dainty and slender—all the pretty things that males loved in women.

Or maybe it was just her.

Because you were fairly new and fresh too; just barely in your twenties and full on the idea of life and love and everything in between. Maybe you weren’t as kind, not as nice or welcoming; you didn’t always have the right words and in lou of sounding stupid or making a fool of yourself, you stayed quiet.

Watching; observing, learning the family around you as you navigated your place in it. Everyone already had their role; playing their parts as if they’d been trained their whole lives for it and even Feyre and her sisters had fallen into a steady rhythm after the Cauldron. But with all the new additions, couples pairing up and friendships pre-established a hundred years before you were even a thought—your place there seemed less clear.

Especially since Azriel had started paying such special attention to Elaine and her annoyingly beautiful garden and the plants that seemed to thrive tenfold at the mere sight of her.

You didn't mind at first; the three of you falling into a steady rhythm of hanging out together, taking walks and sharing stories but somewhere along the lines he stopped looking at you when he'd laugh. Envy builds for a woman too kind to deserve it and it makes you feel even worse--masking your distaste with soft smiles that you hoped looked as welcoming as hers.

You can’t even help the turn your thoughts take but no matter how much envy fills you; there’s not one con that presents itself when regarding her.

It becomes subconscious, the way you mimic her; fixing your posture, hands reaching to push back strands of hair and smoothen out the fabric that the soft curve of your stomach. Silently nitpicking parts of you that you’d never considered wrong before but that had to be when everything Elaine had got was so right.

He walks in like you’ve summoned him, steps silent and sure. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” You mutter a beat too late, only realizing he was regarding you when you’d finally glanced up over the book in your hands.

You’re acutely aware of his every move, the radiating warmth of his body contrasted by the cool kiss of his shadows sifting through your hair when he leans over the back of the couch. The smell of his soap reaches your nose when he leans in, hazel eyes skimming over the pages you're reading and you thank the good Mother above that you’d gotten past the naughty scene three pages ago; where the good guy who pretends to be bad slides his fingers between the maidens thighs, urging her to be silent as he worked her over through her clothes while being surrounded by a whole camp full of males and a looming threat lingering somewhere in the trees. “Bad dreams again?”

You pray he doesn’t catch the slight uptick of your heart rate, the closeness forcing your body to react without permission and it takes great effort not to tear the delicate pages under the pressure of your fingers alone. “Something like that,” You grit out, reminded of the nightmares that assaulted your slumber; the sight of Elaine and Azriel—kissing. Enough to rip you awake and force you to empty all of your stomach contents; you’d just barely made it to the bathing chambers, hairs sticking to your cheeks and nightgown damp with sweat as you leaned into the toilet.

You still hadn’t been able to keep anything down; stomach too unsettled and brain spiraling enough to distract away any signs of hunger.

“She’s been getting them all week,” Elaine softly adds, fingers busy with her knitting needles and yarn; a new blanket for you to add to the giant collection neatly folded your closet. “—won’t drink the tea I made for it though.”

“Because the tea makes them worse and then I wake up from them with my body still paralyzed,” You’re quick to say, familiar with your best friends tactics in divulging important information to the shadowsinger to ensure you actually did something about it—that you took care of yourself. “I’ll happily keep just the bad dreams.”

Azriel's not even looking at you anymore though, already rounding the couch to sit beside Elaine, ball of yarn rolling between them and you can’t help but stare. “Tell me more about this tea?”

“I make it from the plants in the garden,” She points at the window behind them, pale green yarn still wrapped around her finger. “Camomile and ginseng and usually it helps but she just reacts to it differently.”

Azriel hums and you hate the way the words make you feel; like there was another thing setting you apart from the others and this perfect life that didn’t seem capable enough to hold room for all of your imperfections. You don’t wait to hear anymore, steps light and hands quick to stick your bookmark in place and collect your tea cup before you’re gone and down the hall; tears burning in your waterline.

Because, you were sure that if you had to sit there and watch them a second longer you were going to scream.

Scream at Elaine for being so sweet and gentle; so knowledgeable and helpful and certain that it was you that was the issue and not her stupid herbs grown in her stupid garden. You wanted to scream at Azriel until you were blue in the face, listing off every single thing you've ever done to show that the thing between you was way more than just friends. How he was everything and you know that maybe you weren't perfectly skinny like Elaine was but you'd always found great beauty in things that were different.

You can’t tell if you’re happy or not that no one comes to check on you the whole four hours it takes for you to relax; binging the entirety of a book until you were too focused on someone else's life to focus on your own and only once you'd finished the book in it's entirety were you forced to leave the room in search for the one that followed.

The library is empty when you enter, only a few lights still burned and you’re already murmuring soft words to yourself while you search around for what your looking for, fingers bumping over the slides of books; their engraved titles all unique and beautiful and probably interesting but still not quite right. It takes some time but you’re certain you’ve found it, a few rows higher than you can reach but it’s easy to drag over a chair for assistance. "Come on," You mutter, nose scrunching with strain as the tips of two fingers graze the burgundy spine. You’re prepared to jump and pray the chair doesn’t collapse beneath you when the book simply slides out and floats down to you, cool shadows twirling up the length of your arm as if to stabilize you as you step down. “I didn’t need help,” You grumble without looking at your savior, the weight of the book now in your palm and excitement swirls at the thought of more.

“You never do.”

You don’t mean to be so snappy but the sleep deprivation takes a toll and it was becoming harder to distinguish truth from dream; your brain always stuck on his mouth leaning in for Elaine’s and the anger that ensues is all consuming. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Azriel shrugs, sighing as if he knows how this conversation will end and in no way will he ever come out on top. “I don’t know—just don’t get why you wouldn’t have told me you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Because, Az, what would you have done? Help Elaine make me tea’s? No, thanks.”

Confusion spreads on handsome features, hazel eyes fierce even with his lids lowered. “What does Elaine have to do with any of this? Because she told me?”

The breath you let out is heavy, defeat settling in once you realize the hole you’d been digging yourself and it’s a struggle to heave yourself out and drag the chair back to its original spot but Azriel’s there in seconds. He’s quiet; waiting for an answer as he takes it from your hands. “No,” You concede, all fight leaving when it was a one-sided battle. “She doesn’t have anything to do with it. It’s fine—I’m just tired.”

“Then sleep,” He urges softly. “I’ll stay with you.”

“I can’t.”

You can’t even focus on the words of your page under his stare. You’ve read the first line six times over and you still haven’t fully processed it. The thought of him being nearby as you slept, the thought of his eyes on your body in nothing but a nightgown and your hair free from all its carefully done braids. “Can you tell me what you’ve been dreaming about?”

His brows raise when you suck in a sharp breath, cheeks flinching at the suggestion and you shut the book altogether. “I’d really rather not.”

“What’s so bad you can’t tell me about it?" Azriel's hand covers your own, voice so soft it hurt. "You tell me everything.”

Your heart thumps so hard in your chest you can hear it in your ears, your free fingers fumbling against the other under the table and you can't refrain from the nervous chuckle that pulls free. There's a second where you want to just tell him; to confess your feelings and how much you loved the way he was looking at you but fucking hated how you knew that look wouldn't stay if Elaine walked in. The reminder of her alone makes your body deflate, gaze going far off and Azriel's concern only grows when you stay quiet too long to be normal.

The cool touch of a shadow grazing your cheek pulls you out of it. "I suppose this just isn't worth telling."

It's not the answer he wanted, that much is clear by the frown that tugs on full lips, the wings that tuck in tighter and you want nothing more than to give him everything he'd wanted and more to get his face to stop looking at you like that but before you can say another word, another person enters. "Sorry to interrupt, I was just looking for you.

His eyes instantly go to her, hand pulling away from your own and attitude seeps out when you regard her. "Well, you found me."

Elaine's eyes bounce between you and Azriel as if she could feel the tension in the room that held so thick you could cut it with a knife. Her voice is hesitant when she begins, a steaming pot held in hands covered by thick oven mitts. "I made a new recipe for the tea," You don't even hear the carefully curated list of herbs she rattles off, informing their uses and how well they work together but you can't stop shaking; chest tightening at the way Azriel watches Elaine gracefully flit about the room and you can't stop thinking about how quickly he pulled away his hand. "It's really strong so you can't have too much but the madja said that it would help with the sleeping and the paralysis."

You couldn't of cared less, snatching the kettle from her grasp and in your anger you can’t even hear her gasp, can’t feel the burn of the boiling handle against your palm as you pour a mug so thick it nearly spills over the top. “Thanks, Elaine. Really, I hope it knocks me out for a week.” You don’t stay to take in the worry on Azriel's face or the hurt that laced your friends features. Your book is tight in your grasp and you’re halfway down the hallway when you feel your palm begin to throb.

Your bedroom door shuts with a slam, pure frustration pulsing through your whole being and you can feel it ebbing from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. A sigh pulls when you take an angry sip, it burns your tongue, slightly bitter but it was eased with a little sugar and a teaspoon of honey.

Guilt swells at the kind gesture and your misguided anger; Elaine had only been trying to help, making things to quell the dreams she didn’t even know were centered around her and man you loved but didn't love you back. It weighs on you as you change into your night clothes, smoothening ointment and wrapping thick gauze around your burn; there was no blistering but the angry red mark was sure to remain there for quite some time.

You try to distract yourself, silently sipping as you read your book.

It’s alarming how quickly you relax, the giant mug nearly empty when your book slips between your fingers and thuds to the floor, body slumping into the sitting chair and you don’t even have enough time to drag a blanket over yourself before your eyes flutter shut and sleep takes over.

And this time, you didn’t dream.

There was only peaceful silence and maybe an uncomfortable pressure in your chest that it came and went in waves; too grateful for the relief that settled in your bones to care. It was like you were sinking, body slowly falling into a sea of cushion and comfort and you’d have been willing to stay there forever.

Your brows furrow when a noise pierces through the silence; eyes squinting in the darkness to find the source but the harder you try to make it out, the darker the rooms gets. A hand rubs against your chest, the pressure coming back and this time it’s so hard it makes you cough, eyes clenching shut and it’s like that was the switch to wake you up.

Azriel is leaning over you, hands on your chest and cheeks red with exertion when you cough and cough, soul aching to return to the peace—that silence where there were no dreams. “Why’d you wake me up?”

“Wake you up?” His voice holds no more room for placating to your wants; hands shaking at his sides and it’s then you see the fear. “You didn’t have a pulse. I came to check on you and you were—“ Azriel clears his throat, voice cracking with his clothes disheveled and full lips firm in a straight line as he stood before you, crouching down to meet your eye level. “Tell me right now, what were you dreaming about that was so bad that you were willing to die to stop them.”

Your chest heaves as you take in air, a ringing begins in your ears and you back away; avoiding the words, the conversation—the sight of his mouth on hers. “I can’t.”

“You can and you will."

"Azriel—"

Az groans at your tone, turning his entire body away as if he physically couldn't bear hearing another aversion; another lame excuse as to why you couldn't tell him what was going on when you always did. "Do you not trust me? Is that it?"

“What?”

You'd never seen him so upset, eyes blazing and wings rustling in his frustration as he stood. "I'm just listing shit at this point because all I've done is try to be there for you—me and Elaine, and you just keep pushing us away."

"Oh, please," You snap back, gaining the strength to stand and the ache in your chest only gets worse and you begin to wonder just how long he was on top of you breathing air into your lungs and willing breath to stick with the push of his hands. "If Elaine's around, I might as well just walk right out of the room because that means you'll be otherwise occupied shoving your head up her ass."

"You sound ridiculous." He lets out a gruff laugh, arms crossed over his chest. "Are you jealous or something?"

"It's clear you have feelings for her. I get it���she's perfect and pretty and skinny and obviously you like that sort of thing but don't stand here and pretend you even notice I exist with her there." There's no taking back the words and you don't even care to look into the way his brows furrow at you, words punching at him a mile a minute as a dam breaks and days and weeks and months worth of emotions rage forward with no signs of stopping. "How couldn't I be jealous? When it’s so obvious that you love her and not me.” It feels pathetic to say out loud, hands crossing over yourself as you did your best to remain strong; to get through the feelings even though your skin was on fire and you couldn't stop fidgeting. "That's what my dreams have been about. Why I've been missing sleep and hiding things from you because every time I close my eyes all I can fucking see is you and her."

You don't even realize how much distance you'd been putting between you two, subconsciously searching for a way out when Azriel inevitability let you down easy. "You love me?" Words die on your tongue, feelings laid bare and vulnerabilities left out for his viewing pleasure; eyes like drops of gold boring into you as you gently nod. He sinks onto the edge of your bed, a breathless laugh emitting as scarring fingers traced over the soft fabric of your duvet. "The only reason I started talking to Elaine in the first place is because you and her had gotten so close and I wanted an excuse to be around you."

Your brows furrow, lips parting in confusion and the nerves begin to fade. "No."

Azriel's head nods once, settling into the fell of your room and the little trinkets you'd kept close on the nightstand; pictures neatly framed and resting on books you favored a little more than the others on the shelves. Hand sculpted vases made from blown glass that scattered rainbows across the room when the sun shone through the curtains to feed the bright flowers inside of them. "Yes, but you kept leaving and I thought it was because you weren't interested."

"But, I thought—"

"I think it's safe to say we both were off in our assumptions."

It feels like a dream and not the kind you'd been running away from but the one you'd been sinking and falling into earlier before Azriel had pulled you back. The one that felt like peace and comfort and something like hope begins to brew in your belly when you dare you look him in the eyes. "You like me?"

Azriel's features soften, the fear and worry from before a thing of the past when he stood and walked towards you, shadows kissing at your legs when warm knuckles grazed your cheek. "I love you," He corrects gently, his touch like home and its instinct the way you close the proximity. You can feel his heartbeat on your chest, the strong muscles of his arms itching to be traced and a smile forms at the blush that forms on the tops of his ears under your attention. "—and those smutty little books you've been reading."

His chest is hard when you jokingly smack it, cheeks going hot and eyes darting to the book laid forgotten on the floor. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

The lie doesn't deter him and neither does the little gasp that pulls free when he gently forces you to look up at him, hazel eyes trained on your mouth and the tongue that darts out to wet plush lips. "I'll pretend I believe that if you just shut up and let me kiss you."

Maybe reality was better than dreaming.

Because this time, when he leaned down with intent to press his mouth against another’s for a kiss—it was with you.

[azsazz]

Midnight Muse (Part 21)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3,850

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Masterlist]

_________________________________________

You haven’t spoken to Azriel since the morning you woke up in his bed alone.

Which, granted, has only been one day.  

You’d spent the rest of your Sunday confused, rerunning the previous night over and over and over again until your head hurt with it. You thought that you and Azriel had started anew, if the passionate sex you’d shared the night before was anything to go by. But when you woke, the sheets beside you hadn’t even been warm and the note he’d left you seemed scrawled in haste, like he’d barely had the courtesy to do so on his way out the door.

Something important came up, I’m sorry. I’ll explain later. Please don’t be mad, princess. I’m coming back to you. —Az

He’d left his number but you’d left the comfort of his bed, slipping back into your dress and collecting your things before doing the ultimate walk of shame next door. Really, it’s much worse than the last time you’d snuck out of his apartment. You’d been hungover then, caring mostly about not throwing up in the hall or waking Azriel, but by the silence of the apartment as you made your way out, there was no need for you to be quiet.

It left you only with the aching between your thighs and the mottled bruises painting your skin purple.

That night was better than a dream. You would’ve never thought that you and Azriel could work past the lingering feud you’d started the year with, and you hadn’t realized how draining your constant grudge had been. It turns out that getting over yourself and under him had been the best thing that could’ve happened for your relationship.

His touch burns your skin long after you’ve showered him off. You can still feel him between your legs, fingers dug into the meat of your thighs as he held you still for his taking. The feeling of his lips, his tongue brushing yours, everything that he’d done to you last night, clinging to your very being as if he’d tattooed himself across every inch of your skin.

Maybe you should’ve listened to his note. You could have easily stayed in his bed all day, with how comfortable it is, but as the minutes trickled by, the paranoia set in, eating at you until you’d had to flee.

Feyre hadn’t asked any questions when you slipped into her room after your shower. She’d welcomed you with open arms, a sad look in her eyes as if she knew exactly what happened. And maybe she did; maybe she heard you like you heard her, but you hadn’t cared, only snuggled up to your best friend's side as she put a movie on her laptop for the both of you to watch.

She knew you would tell her in good time.

It hadn’t stopped Azriel from blowing up your phone. He must’ve stolen your number from Rhsyand or Cassian, or perhaps he even told them what happened because message after message after message lit up your notifications, pleading for you to answer your phone like an incessant alarm.

Princess…it’s Az. Where did you go?

Do you want some waffles? There might still be some ice cream left before Cassian finishes it all, but with the spoon he’s found, it won’t last long.

Can I please explain? 

And finally: 

I can hear your phone buzzing through the wall. Please answer me.

You hadn’t replied to those, nor any of the ones that followed. You half expected him to come knocking at your door, but Feyre had noticed your poor mood and told Rhys that the two of you were having a girl’s day and not to bother either of you.

You could’ve both kissed and been upset with her for that.

You wanted that explanation from Azriel, but you also wanted him to fight for it. Let him come knocking, let him ask you in person to explain. Who finally gets the girl and leaves her to wake up alone? Especially after all of the things Azriel had admitted to you…

Monday morning is much the same. You’d successfully avoided seeing Azriel on your way to campus, and as much as you tried focusing on your drawing course, none of the shapes you were drawing turned into anything great.

You’d expected it to be bliss, to get your mind off of every little nitpicky thing you keep thinking about from that night. Feyre and Lucien’s presence helped some, but when the class quieted  down for a drawing exercise and you were left alone with your thoughts once again, they naturally drifted back to yesterday morning. Maybe you had misread Azriel’s intentions and he was only looking for a one night stand. You did make the first move, afterall. 

It was all a jumbled mess in your head that could only make sense if Azriel explained it. And now you’re once again thinking that you should have stayed…or at least texted him back.

“You okay, (Y/N)?” Lucien asks, startling you from your thoughts. The tip of your charcoal cracks against your drawing pad and you frown, staring at the black chalky marks on your fingers. You frown, shoving the immediate thought of Azriel from your head and tilt your head up to meet Lucien’s concerned gaze.

You offer him a forced smile. “Yeah, sorry, I was zoning out a bit. I’m fine.” You hadn’t realized that class ended and everyone is packing up their things. Feyre’s over by the drawers, stowing her pad in the one you share. Lucien doesn’t look like he believes you, but he stays silent while you hastily pack your supplies away, grimacing at the drawing you’d been working on. 

You don’t check your phone. You’d already woken up to multiple messages from Azriel this morning, asking to walk you to class and explain. Luckily, you hadn’t run into him on your way out the door, tearing down the staircase with a confused Feyre trying to keep up.

Lucien and Feyre are talking about where you should all head to lunch when the three of you leave the building. Alis had announced another assignment, and the premise already hangs heavy on your shoulders. The instructions were left loose enough that you have once again no idea what you’re going to draw for it. It’s infuriating, how everyone else just seems to know immediately what they’re wanting to create when it takes you weeks to figure it out, and then when you do, you’re changing your mind again and again, worried that nothing is good enough.

You run smack into Lucien’s back while you’re lost in your thoughts. Your friends are three steps out the door and your nose stings from where you’d hit it against your friend. Lucien hardly even seems to notice, his mouth set in a straight line and he and Feyre stare directly ahead. 

At Azriel, who’s leaning up against the railing. He looks so nervous it’s almost as if he doesn’t even go to this school; doesn’t walk into the same buildings or around the same campus. His thumb is tucked into the strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder, and the other is stuffed into the pocket of his leather jacket. His black hair is tousled but not from the wind, from the amount of times he’s nervously run his fingers through it.

You watch his golden eyes flick over Feyre and Lucien, darkening as they rove over your copper haired friend while you step out from behind him. He instantly finds your gaze and they soften, and then he’s pushing off from the railing and making his way towards you. Your face heats because this is the last place you thought Azriel would corner you. In public.

“Hey, Azriel,” Feyre greets, glancing over at you. You shake your head softly but keep your gaze pinned to Azriel who strides closer like he no longer has a care in the world. It’s a front and you know it.

Azriel nods politely, but he doesn’t break your stare. “(Y/N), can we talk for a minute?”

You feel Feyre’s confused blue eyes burning into your skin. The way that she slides her phone from her pocket like she’s trying not to make any sudden movements is not missed by you nor Azriel, but neither of you seem to care that she’s seconds away from messaging Rhys about this. You wonder if he knows, if Azriel had admitted anything to his roommates about you, about the night you shared together. 

Lucien is tense, shoulders coiled tight. He’s almost glaring at Azriel but it doesn’t faze the onyx haired boy in the least, like he’s a speck of dust on his shoulder. Nothing can deter Azriel, of this you know. Somehow, he’s just as stubborn as you are, and the soft look in his eyes, pleading with you, makes your stomach twist.

“Sure,” you find yourself agreeing. You turn to your friend so you don’t have to witness the relief on his face. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. And I’ll see you in Art History, Fey.”

“You better,” your best friend mutters, already tapping away at her phone. She drags Lucien by the sleeve because he doesn’t seem inclined to leave you alone with Azriel despite you agreeing to speak with him. Azriel looks like he’s going to bare his teeth at the boy. “Come on, Luc.”

You start down the stairs of the building, going the opposite direction from your friends. You can feel Lucein’s sun and moon eyes on you as you walk, but you don’t turn around to look. 

Azriel catches up to you in two great strides. You don’t know where you’re going, fine with waltzing around campus while you talk. You might need to text Feyre to bring you something to eat during class, because you’re getting hungry for lunch.

“I don’t like him,” Azriel mutters, and you can tell by the tight grip he has on the straps of his backpack.

“I don’t think you like anyone,” you respond, not unkindly, but it’s not a friendly remark either. It’s strange almost, to be seen with him in public not only after your public feud, but the night you’d spent together as well. It feels like a dirty little secret has come to light, and you don’t like it.

Azriel glances at you sidelong, but you refuse to meet his gaze. “I like you.”

You snort because he doesn’t even know you, not really. “You didn’t even like me two days ago, Azriel,” you start but he’s already shaking his head in disagreement, denying your accusations. “And with the way you up and left me in your room, I’m thinking there’s still a possibility that you don’t even like me now.”

He stops you with a gentle hand on your elbow, turning you to face him. You stumble at the suddenness of the move and it puts you a step closer to him than you’d like. His grip on your arm isn’t firm or demanding, it’s a soft caress that matches the pleading look in his honeyed eyes.

“Please,” he murmurs, and you can see just how much your avoidance has been bothering him. His fingers tremble along your arms and when you look down at them he pulls away, nervously tucking them into the pocket of his hoodie. It makes something in your chest crack a little. “I can explain.”

“Explain, then,” you answer simply.

Azriel shifts on his feet, glancing around. There are students milling about and you should probably keep walking or at least move out of the way, lest the both of you get mowed down by someone late to class or a biker. “Here?” 

You quirk a brow.

He sighs a little, exasperated. “Can I take you somewhere? How about lunch?” 

You study him. It’s clear that he wants to explain to you, and he looks just as stressed out about the situation as you are. And you really do want to hear what he has to say for himself, if his reason for leaving you is forgivable…

“Fine,” you relent, and his shoulders drop a notch. “But I have class this afternoon and I can’t be late.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Rita’s is the kind of place that you walk past and don’t go in. 

The outside is a smidge better than decrepit, with its peeling paint and uneven sidewalk. There’s graffiti on the side of the building, tags you can hardly ready with how curvy and obnoxious the letters look. One of the windows has a shade, but it’s hanging by a thread and looks more like a hazard than not, and the rest of the windows are bare, sunlight pouring into the yellowing casement. You wouldn’t even know the place is open with its rusted neon sign so broken and sad. 

But Azriel guides you in through the door with a hand on the small of your back and you blame the shiver that travels up your spine on the blast of cold air that hits you in the face when you step over the threshold.

Maybe you’ve been a little harsh on its exterior appearance because the inside is tidy. The air smells like greasy burgers and crunchy fries, and there’s a shiny jukebox in the corner playing an oldies song you think you’ve heard at one of Cassian’s parties once. Well, you heard it through the wall when the entirety of said party belted it at the top of their lungs and not even your headphones could block out the noise.

There’s an older man sitting at the counter and a girl who looks to be about your age behind the counter. She’s smacking her gum and doodling on her order pad, a half abandoned milkshake melting in the red cup beside her. She doesn’t even look up when Azriel leads you towards a booth, and you slide in opposite him with furrowed brows.

“What’s wrong?” He asks you, nervousness flicking through his eyes. He hesitates to sit down, awaiting your response.

“Nothing,” you assure him with a soft smile you don’t feel is genuine. “I didn’t even know this place was here, really.”

Azriel all but slumps onto the electric blue seat, eyes sparkling with delight. Your heart rate picks up at the sight of the little grin he offers you. It’s nice to see this side of him, happy and relaxed, in his element. 

You wonder how he looks when he’s concentrated on a drawing, or a tattoo.

He’s got them covered up with his leather jacket today, though the tips of those coiling shadows around his collar bones peek out from the neckline of his black t-shirt and you think about how much you were coiled around each other the other night, skin to skin.

Your cheeks heat with the memory, and you look down at your lap.

“It’s great,” Azriel explains, slipping out of his jacket. You wish you had paid more attention to the artwork marking his skin the night you spent together but there hadn’t been much time to with the way you were all over each other, and he wasn’t around when you woke up. “Been coming here since freshman year.” 

You’re about to respond when the waitress you’d seen arrives, slapping two menu’s down on the funky patterned table. You startle with the motion and shift uncomfortably when Azriel all but glares at the girl. She doesn’t seem to care though, flipping her stark white hair over her shoulder with a sneer.

Her brown eyes flit over you like you’re a piece of her chewed gum stuck under the table, then leans her hip against the edge of the table, flipping her order pad open. “I already know what you want,” he says haughtily to Azriel, and then those piercing brown eyes are on you, pinning you to your seat like it’s a trap from Saw. “What will you be having?” 

“I, um, I’m not sure yet,” you stutter awkwardly, because you’re confused. Who is this and why is Azriel acting like this is normal? “I need to look at the menu.” 

She rolls her eyes and the silence that ensues makes your face grow hot, sweat bead at your hairline. She crosses her arms over her chest, popping a bubble with her gum, and it’s as if she’s waiting for you to look at the menu and decide right now. You send a pleading look to Azriel whose jaw is ticking with annoyance.

“Give us a minute, will you, Cresseida? And let Rita know I’m here. Thanks.” 

With another eye roll and an annoyed “Whatever,” Cresseida all but stomps away from your table. Your eyes trail her until she’s around the counter and pushing through the swinging doors to the kitchen.

“She seems…lovely,” you mutter, fingering the corner of the menu where it’s bent. “Seems like the kind of place you would’ve taken me when we didn’t like each other,” you tack on, squinting at the small font. Why are there so many items on the menu?

“I’m sorry about her,” Azriel blurts, and you think this is the first time you’ve ever seen him blush. It’s unfairly adorable. He offers you a hand, face up, and you can’t resist that look in his eyes, how he’s offering you his scarred hand instead of hiding it. With a short huff, you place your palm on his and he immediately intertwines your fingers, holding tight. It makes you blush. “She’s always been cranky,” he peers over his shoulder like she might be standing right behind him. “I promise, Rita is much nicer.”

You give him a forced smile because honestly, you’re not sure what else to say to that. You’re not even sure you’re all that hungry anymore, with Cresseida’s off putting attitude and the nerves that are gnawing on your stomach from the talk you’re about to have with Azriel.

You busy yourself with looking at the menu. There are way too many options and not enough time to decide because a short, stocky woman is trapezing her way around the countertop and towards your table, her eyes glowing with joy.

“Azriel, what brings you back so soon? Oh—and who is this lovely lady?” Her eyes fall across your intertwined fingers and she fails to stifle the beaming grin that appears on her red lips. You can tell that she’s a gem by appearance alone, but also in the way that she looks at Azriel, like he’s the son she’s never had. You can’t help but to smile at her. Her round face is flush with a permanent blush and she looks like the kind of woman you’d love to hug.

“Rita, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is Rita, the owner of Rita’s Diner.”

“Very nice to meet you,” you greet eagerly, trying to pull your hand away from Azriel’s to shake her hand. He doesn’t let go, and smirks at the glare you shoot his way.

“(Y/N) as in…” Rita trails off, flicking a glance at Azriel. You narrow your eyes at him, curious as to what he’s told her about you. She continues, “As in your girlfriend, Azriel?”

You almost splutter, cheeks going red hot at her insinuation.

Azriel doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest, admiring the color to your cheeks and the shock in your eyes. “Not yet.”

Not yet. 

But maybe soon, when he finally explains himself.

Rita winks at him and you really want to bury your face in the menu right now.

“What can I get for you, darlin’?” Rita asks, her voice sweet as cherry pie.

“I don’t know, there are so many options…” you trail off, sending a pleading look towards Azriel. “Almost too many to choose from.”

Rita’s chest swells with pride and Azriel snickers.

“Cass prefers the pancakes,” he supplies, “But I think the waffles are better.”

“Pancakes, it is,” you beam, handing Rita back the menu. Azriel glares playfully and Rita seems positively overjoyed as she makes her way back to the kitchen.

Your smiles fade with Rita’s cheerful attitude and it’s all too soon that you’re aware you’re holding Azriel’s hand and he still hasn’t explained. You look at him and he’s already sighing. There are dark circles under his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before, and you can tell that he hadn’t slept well last night either.

Azriel strokes a thumb across your knuckles and your tense shoulders ease a bit. The embarrassment you’d felt when you woken up alone in his bed has simmered with his eagerness to explain to you what happened that morning, but you’re still feeling a bit tender about it, especially when you see the pained look on Azriel’s face.

Whatever had happened hadn’t been good.

And you feel like a fool when he answers your question lingering between the both of you. 

“The reason I wasn’t there that morning was because my father was in town. He came to see me.” 

You try to swallow back the sudden rage boiling up from your stomach. The man who’d let his step-sons burn Azriel’s hands. The one who doesn’t want him to follow his dreams, his passions, when he clearly has the skill to do something amazing with them. The one who didn’t even visit him that night of the incident.

You squeeze his hand and Azriel seems to relax, understanding your forgiveness. Your throat is still tight when you respond, forcing the word out. “Okay…”

It gives him room to continue, even though Azriel looks like he’d rather face Cresseida’s wrath again.

“He found interest in purchasing and renovating our apartment building.” 

You blink, not sure you’ve heard him correctly. “What?” You tack on, defensively. “Why?”

Azriel shrugs. To keep me in fucking check. He sighs as if the tremendous weight on his shoulders is two seconds away from crushing him completely. You don’t like that frown on his face and you don’t like his father.

“He thinks it’s a good investment opportunity, I guess.”

You don’t like the sound of this one bit, and Azriel agrees with you.

“And if he does buy it?”

Azriel shakes his head sadly, “No more neighbors.” 

You didn’t think the thought of not being his next door neighbor would hit you so hard. Your chest aches with the idea of it, no longer sharing a wall. Even though you despised it at the beginning, you’ve gotten used to and even like the fact that you share a wall now.

Rita comes back and sets a plate of hot pancakes in front of you and a stack of blueberry waffles in front of Azriel. Everything smells delicious and your mouth waters at the sight of the thick pat of butter melting its way across the top of your breakfast.

She places a milkshake between you and Azriel, and there’s no missing the two neon colored straws sticking out of the top. You blush, thanking her.

She winks in response. “Enjoy, you two.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @blackthrongirl @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @wilmalovegood @jw83 @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl

[websterss]

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝟏/𝟐 — 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘  

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: I have a really good fic idea! would u mind taking mine? If you have watched the Netflix series “you” then this request might seem familiar. Basically Ethan is about to stab Y/n but she quickly says she is pregnant then you can do whatever you want to.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): angst, mentions of dying, mentions of pregnancy, 

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1,655

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader    

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it love! Feedback is always welcomed!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟐: (𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆) 𝐨𝐫 (𝐒𝐀𝐃 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆)

Fear struck every part of your body as you ran for your life. The old shrine of Ghostface trinkets and souvenirs like knives and wardrobes mocked you as you ran by the mannequins and display cases. You wouldn’t have imagined you’d be right where you were on this unlucky day. What should have been a fresh start after being almost butchered by Amber and Sam’s boyfriend Richie, well you didn’t expect to fight for your life once again, especially while at college.

You wanted a new year, a chance to leave all that was, behind you and move forward with your head held high. You wanted to fall in love…which you had. Now even that was ruined as you ran from the one person you let in. Someone you let love and cherish you in any way possible. Let him put you back together only to break you in pieces all over again. It just didn’t seem fair.

You yell out, panicking as you felt him grab you. You squirmed and wiggled in his grasp, kicking your feet out in the air as he lifted you up slightly then slammed you harshly on the ground. You gasp for air as you grow winded from the impact your back endured. You shake your head as the man you once knew became a stranger to you in mere seconds. You were scared as he stares down at you with a crazed look.

“No!” You scream as you push against his chest. “Ethan no, please!” You rasp out. Tears blind sight you, causing your vision to be blurry.

He smirks lifting a knife above you. “Remember this?” He asks. “My dad got a hold of your file you know. I knew the second I read about you that I wanted to get to know you.” He reached down and brushed some stray hairs away from your hot and sweaty forehead. Your chest rises and falls rapidly. “You were stabbed right here…” He lifts the hem of your shirt, tapping against the scar you received. “With a blade, three times might I add. God the picture they took looked nasty, but boy am I a sucker for recreations.” He chuckles darkly. “What’s three more times huh?” He goes to move the knife closer to your side.

You start to panic again as he moves his right arm to the side, getting ready to drive it past your first layer of skin. You cry holding your hands out, hoping that would be enough to stop him from hurting you physically. You were emotionally damaged by this point. “Ethan stop! Stop, stop! Stop!”

“This is for Richie, for your bitch of friend Sam for killing him! For ruining our lives!” He exclaims harshly at you. You wince, then immediately blurt out the one thing you have been excited to tell him, yet scared to do. Now it just made this whole situation worse.

“Ethan-“ You cry out.

“I should have killed you-“

“I’m pregnant!” You yell out. Your head thumping back against the hard floor. Your hands gravitate towards your stomach holding it protectively. Your face was scrunched with how hard you cried. It hurt, everything just hurt. Ethan's hands freeze in midair. Dumbfounded by your confession. “Stop, stop, stop. I-I’m pregnant!”

“You’re fucking lying!” He accuses you.

“I-I’m not…I’m not I promise!” You shake your head. “Please! Please I’m pregnant!” One hand remains on your stomach while your left hand tiredly falls limp to your side. You relax back onto the floor, waiting for the inevitable to come. Waiting to meet your end at the hands of the man you grew to love with your whole heart.

“Look at me,” Ethan instructs you to do. Your eyes open up slowly. The life drained from them as you stare up at him. The fight in you was gone. You didn’t wanna keep doing this anymore. “No, I–“ He shakes his head. He can’t wrap his head around it. His brows burrow in confusion. “Y-You’re lying!” He tears up.

“I promise you…” Another tear slips down your cheek. “I promise. I wanted to tell you…but everything turned to shit. I didn’t think you’d be one of them…” You sniffle. “It was a little over two weeks before we attended the Halloween party. You took us to your dorm.” You watch his face relax as he remembers. “I-I didn’t get my period at the time of the party when I should have…so I took a test. Three actually. All positive….” You begin to whimper as you look at the knife he’s lost his grip on. “You can go ahead and kill me if that’s what you want, I won’t be mad at you.” You offer a sad smile. “But I would’ve really liked the idea of us raising a kid together. I wanted a future you with you. I still do surprisingly.” You nod sure of yourself. “I-I won’t be mad. I’m at peace with my thoughts of you Ethan.” Ethan watched as your right hand slid down to your side this time. “M-My life rests in your hands now…”

The faint scream of the rest of the party echoed throughout the theater. He lifts his head looks around then drags you up into a sitting position with him.

“I’m gonna hide you.” He says more to himself than you as he helps you to your feet. It doesn’t take him long until he’s dragging you past the display cases. Pushing past the large screen protector sheet. You stumble over your feet trying to keep up with his pace.

“Ethan, what are you doing?” You ask him. Your head falls past your shoulder to glance behind you. You look forward again and collide into his back, you huff then feel yourself being dragged into a dark supply closet.

“Hiding you!” Ethan shuts the door behind you. The two of you are enveloped by darkness. The only light coming from the bottom of the door. Your breath hitches as a shadow moves past the door. You remain still as Ethan slowly reaches out for you. You still have your fingers looking around his own as you shift closer to each other.

You swallow your salvia down nervously as his hands shift up your arms to hold the sides of your face. Your breath shudders feeling him caress your skin slowly with his thumbs. You close your eyes as you lean into his touch. You open them back up, seeing a very faint outline of his face but the room was too dark, and turning on the light would be too risky. You had to rely on your sense of touch for now.

“Stay…” You quietly plead. “Just stay. Don’t go back out there.” You slide your hands up his arms now.

“I can’t…My dad, Quinn, they’ll know somethings up.” Ethan shakes his head even though you can’t see him do so. He leans forward and presses his head against yours. “I need you to stay in here okay? Don’t come out no matter what.”

“No–“ You begin to reject the idea.

“You need to stay.”

“No, you need to stay. Just stay.” You do your best to muffle your cries. “I have this feeling. I just feel it, okay! Once you step out the door, you won’t come back. I need you! Don’t leave me!” You breathe out harshly. “Please…” You whimper as he presses his lips to yours. You instantly move yours against his. Wanting to savor the touch of him, the feel of his skin against your fingertips, the way his hands held you with such care. You wanted it all to last, but when did anything good in your life ever truly last? The harsh reality was that it didn’t. Everything was always too good to be true. “Ethan no…” You pull away, crying out quietly. You wrap your hands around his neck, bringing his head down to touch yours.

“I’ll be back.”

“No, you won’t.” You try to control your heavy breathing.

“I will. You wanna know how I know I will.” You nod an answer. “Cause you given me something to want to stay alive for.” You feel his hands slide over your stomach. “I’m gonna be right back.” He whispers sweetly to you.

“They’re gonna kill you.” You voice your thoughts.

“Not unless I help Sam kill my dad.”

“She’ll still kill you. You stabbed Chad.” You remind him.

“Not anywhere serious. I didn’t hit any arteries or veins. He’s gonna be fine.” He brushed the thought off.

“You– You knew where to stab him?” Your voice goes quiet but sounds incredulous.

“I knew how to make you unconscious at the apartment…S’not important.” He winces, regretting opening his mouth.

“What the fuck Ethan!” You slap him over his shoulder. Your heart weighed down heavily. “God Anika…She didn’t deserve-“ You choke up, cutting yourself off. “What the fuck Ethan.”

“Nothing will fix what I’ve done okay? But I can make things right by saving them. It’s the least I can do now.” He sighs. “Just stay here. Do not come out!” He says firmly.

“If you don’t come back I’m gonna kill you…” Your empty threat makes him chuckle solemnly.

“See you in a bit okay.”

“Ethan.” Your voice trembles.

“I’ll be back. Promise.” He leans in after feeling for your cheek again with his hands and leaves a kiss on your skin sweetly. He slowly opens the door. The faint light entered through, casting a yellow highlight on his face. You catch his warm eyes for a second. He drinks in all the little details and characteristics that make you who you are. That makes him love you wholeheartedly. “I love you.” He offers a sad smile then slips past the open gap. The soft click of the door closing behind him felt like a gunshot to the chest. You just knew. You knew…he wouldn’t be coming back.

[allthelovehes]

Unholy*

Summary: You follow a course through your job and the teacher who's giving the course is everything you've ever dreamed of.

Pairing: teacher!harry x reader

Word count: 6.2K

Warnings: Pussy eating, protective sex, squirting, p in v.

A/N:  This is partially based on a true story. Nearly everything but the smut is what actually happened and I just had to write it.

Ever since starting your new job, you must attend an internal program at headquarters for three-ish months, completely designed to train you for all the ins and outs of your position. It’s not like you have to go there every single week. But you have a perfect little schedule; you go to headquarters two weeks in a row, two days a week followed by a week where you practice all you’ve learned. Then two weeks of your training, two days a week and you repeat it over and over again for 11 weeks total. 

Since headquarters is an hour and fifteen-minute drive from your home, they offer you to stay the night at a hotel near them so you don’t have to keep on driving back and forth. They also pay for your dinner in the restaurant of the hotel and since you’re not the only student taking the course who lives relatively far away, you made some friends and all eat together. After dinner, you all hang out, down a few more glasses of chardonnay, and have a great night. 

The course itself is presented by two men, Chris and Harry. Chris is a couple of years older than you are and Harry is roughly the same age. Both of them are a treat to look at so whether you like the course or not, there’s always something interesting to occupy your brain with. Although if you’re truly honest, you do have a favorite and it gets worse when the end of the three months is in sight.

***

It’s the second to last week of your program. Normally you travel by train, read a book while you’re at it, and enjoy the peaceful start of your day. But today was different, you’re a bit in a hurry and decide to take your car and make the long ride yourself. Putting up some music and singing along at the top of your lungs.

Traffic isn’t as bad as you expected and instead of being stuck in your car for over two hours, it only took one and half hours. Normally the route is packed with traffic, causing a lot of slow-riding cars and traffic jams. But again, today was different.

Being 55 minutes early before the start of your training, you’re left with some more time to yourself. The book you normally would read on the train is in your bag anyway. So you grab a cup of coffee, pull the book out of your bag, and start reading to somehow still get a bit of the quiet morning you’re used to. 

You just finished reading your chapter when the door of the room swings open. You look up and your eyes meet the pretty green eyes you’ve grown to adore. You never imagined you’d still crush as hard at 26 as you did at 16. It’s like the teen inside you is awakened by Harry’s chocolate curls, green eyes, and puffy lips. 

“Good morning!” You greet him.

“Good morning. You’re early!” He chirps with a warm smile on his face. He always seems cheerful, just happy to be here. It makes you feel so welcome in this company. “How long have you been here for?” He adds.

“Not more than 15 minutes I think, honestly didn’t really track time.” You answer.

“Did the elevator work when you got here? I just had to climb the stairs.” He continues, there’s not even a shortness of breath even though he just climbed all 17 flights of stairs to reach the level on which the company is located. 

“You’re kidding! How are you still breathing?” You joke, but you’re actually not kidding. If you had to walk all those stairs, you’d be out of breath by the time you reach the 5th floor. Harry however just laughs at your statement before he puts down his backpack behind his desk. 

He made up this little routine of settling down for the day. First, he places down his backpack and takes out his laptop. Then he opens his laptop to boot it before he pulls his sweater over his head. This man doesn’t like to wear coats, he just puts a sweater on top of his outfit and uses that to keep himself warm. 

You thought you sort of removed him from your mind after not seeing him for a couple of weeks. Harry went on a well-deserved vacation and Chris took over during that time. So the last time you actually saw Harry was 5 weeks ago. But the second he pulled that sweater of his over his head, pulling his shirt a tiny bit upwards in the process had you melting right in front of him. The waistband of his boxers peeks out from his pants. You immediately recognize the brand he’s wearing by the colorful print on them. And let’s not even get started about his delicious happy trail. It’s a good thing his view is blocked by the fabric of his sweater because you for sure are struggling to keep your eyes to yourself.

“So, would you like some coffee?” He suggests as he folds his sweater over the back of his chair. You’re quick to agree on his offer. “Cappuccino right?” 

“Yes, please! I’m surprised you remember how I like my coffee.” You giggle, feeling a blush creep upon your cheeks. 

***

Throughout the entire day, you can’t help but notice how Harry’s eyes meet yours a lot more often than he does with your classmates. Whenever you look at him, his eyes are already on yours. He compliments you when you’re working on assignments and you just feel like there’s a mutual connection there. 

His distance to headquarters is even bigger than yours, so they offered him a similar deal as they did you. If he has to work multiple days in a row, he can stay the night in between in the same hotel as you all do. He gladly took upon the offer, for him it’s at least a two-hour ride home and that’s if he doesn’t include traffic. And since he works 5 days a week, it’ll save him a lot of time.

During the lunch break, you and your friends are making plans for the evening. Many of your nights in the hotel are spent drinking some wine and just catching up with each other. And today’s plans are like no other. Harry can’t help but overhear you guys talking about the hotel and starts bragging about the room they gave him. 

“I slept in room 405 last week. Apparently, all rooms on the fourth floor are deluxe rooms with a bathtub, double bed instead of a twin bed, and a filled mini fridge.” He joins your conversation, immediately planting the idea of asking for room 405 when you check into the hotel later today.

“I never had a bathtub during any of my stays. But all six times I slept in that hotel, I never slept on the fourth floor.” You reply.

“Don’t worry, you’re not missing out. The tubs are too small anyways.” He reassures.

“Your legs are just too long to properly fit into any tub.” You pointed out. 

***

All of you enjoy your dinner together. Harry is always left at work for a bit longer after you’re done with the class so he can prepare for the next day or finish up some other leftover work. And to the question of whether he will join you all at the dining table, his answer is always the same. “If I make it in time, I’ll happily join.” 

And today was one of the days he made it in time. He sits next to you in the only chair that’s unoccupied. Your friend shoots a glance at you, and that’s when you realize she made sure you sat next to the empty spot.

All of you welcome him to the table before starting small talk.

“Oh, by the way, Harry, I meant to thank you for your advice.” You start causing a confused look on the man’s face.

“My advice?” He asks. “What did I tell you?”

“When I was checking in I asked for room 405 and now I ended up in a deluxe room just like you told us about earlier today.” You giggle.

“Hold on, what room are you in??” He asks, clearly even more confused than he was at the beginning of this conversation.

“407.” 

“Ah, right! You got me confused for a second as I am booked in room 405 again.” He explains. “So, we’re practically neighbors!” 

Your brain spins a bit at how coincidentally it is of you asking for the exact room Harry is in. And on top of that, you are indeed practically neighbors. Suddenly you feel glad that you aren’t actual neighbors for the night, cause the rooms are very noisy and there’s a dividing door between every other room, allowing them to connect two rooms if needed. You’re not sure what your nighttime activities will turn into, once you’re left alone in your hotel room with just your unholy thoughts of the man next to you. 

Your food gets served, you and Harry both choose a different dish. He chose the tilapia filet and you went for a steak. Both are served with some veggies and fries. 

“That steak looks good.” He says as he puts a bit of fish into his mouth. 

“Would you like to try some?” You ask him to which he agrees. His fork is all covered in the sauce that comes with the fish. So, you cut off a piece of steak and hold your fork out for him to take it. He hums softly as the taste of the steak hits his tastebuds, sending vibrations through your fork. 

Harry insists on you trying some of his fish too. So he cuts a piece of, similar as to how you did it and holds his fork out for you to try it. 

You’re not much of a fish eater but you can see how people like this particular dish. It’s good as far as how good fish get. 

***

After hanging out with your friends on the terras, drinking some wine. All of you decide to call it a night. It’s nearly 11 p.m., and all of you need to be up bright and early the next day for your course. 

You hop into the elevator together, all of you pressing different buttons for different floors. Soon enough you’re the last one standing as you’re the only one whose hotel room is located on the top floor, and Harry’s of course.

Your pace slows down when you reach room 405. A deep voice is heard on the other side of the door. This confirms your suspicions, Harry is still up. It seems like he is currently on the phone with someone as a one-sided conversation is heard from his room. You decide not to snoop around, for all you know he’ll walk out the door any second and see you lingering around his door. That’d be weird.

Once you reach your door, you open it with the card and enter the room. You were smart enough to turn on the air conditioning before heading down for dinner so the room was cooled perfectly. 

You let yourself fall backward on your bed with a deep sigh. This massive crush on what essentially is your teacher was unexpected. And now you’re full of nerves, jitter, and a lot of unholy thoughts to think about.

You open up your book and try to set your mind in another direction. You have to face the man you’re thinking about tomorrow and above all you need to be able to concentrate. 

After 45 minutes of reading your mind is still on the one topic it was before. So the plan to distract yourself failed miserably. The only other option you can consider is taking a cold shower, cause there’s no way in hell you can masturbate to the thought of him and look him in the eye tomorrow.

You hop into the shower. You start at your regular temperature and decrease the temperature with small steps to end with a cold shower. Your hands travel over your body and you notice how sensitive your skin is. You take some soap and spread it all over your skin. Once your hands reach your breasts you give some extra attention to your achy nipples, pinching them between your fingers. You moan softly, god that feels good.

You realize what you’re doing and stop immediately, turning the water ever colder causing you to nearly squeal at the temperature. You step out of the shower and wrap a towel around your body. 

As soon as you’re all dried up, you crawl back into your bed and grab your phone to scroll mindlessly through TikTok. First, you clear your notifications but you notice one particular Instagram notification that catches your eye.

harrystyles liked your story 8m ago

It’s fucking past midnight, what is this man liking your Instagram story for?? As if you weren’t thinking about him enough already. 

You decide to get out of bed and go outside for a little midnight stroll. The cool and fresh air will do you good. You take your AirPods out of your bag so you can listen to some music while you're at it. 

You’ve been walking for about 25 minutes when you step back into the elevator and press the button to the fourth floor. Harry has finally disappeared from your mind, I mean, he’s still there but just less present. You are tired and just need your sleep.

Room 407 is two-thirds down the hall, luckily the floor is covered with carpet so your feet don’t make as much sound. You don’t want to wake anyone up at this ungodly hour. Nerves kick back in the closer you get to room 405. What if he’s still awake, or what if you woke him up when your door fell closed on your way out?

The sound of a door opening is heard and you’re too afraid to take your eyes off the floor. It takes every bit of strength in you to lift your head up, but when you finally do, your eyes are met with the ones you’ve been thinking about all night. He’s changed out of his dress pants and blouse and into a plain white shirt and some grey sweatpants.

“Oh, hi.” You mumble. Fuck, you think. You did wake him up on your way out. And now he’s here to complain about it.

“Hi.” He replies in a whisper. Harry heard you walk through the hallway, at least he was hoping it was you. But now that he’s standing eye to eye with you, he suddenly becomes nervous and doesn’t know what to say.

“I hope I didn’t wake you up when I left my room.” You apologize. 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve been struggling to fall asleep anyway.” “Yeah, me too. I’m gonna go give it another try though.” You point to your door, gesturing for you to leave. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Wait!” Harry whisper-yells. “I- uhm. Do yo- uh.” He stumbles over his words. You turn your body back to him, looking at him with your big eyes.

“Do you wanna come with me to my room?” He finally asks and he holds out his hand for you to grab. You’re taken by surprise but after looking at him for a bit too long you grab his hand with a little nod and let him lead the way. 

He closes his fingers around yours and takes a couple of steps back to his room, opening the door with his room key. He steps inside the room, holds the door open, and pulls you in by your hand. The door is slammed closed right after you’re through the opening and Harry's strong arms push you against the door. 

“Hi.” He says giddy when looking at your lips, earning a smile from you.

“Oh fuck, just kiss me already.” You demand, and he is eager to please. 

His lips crash onto yours and his tongue slips inside your mouth. He’s gentle but demanding, it’s nothing like you ever thought it would be. This kiss makes you realize what people mean by melting when they’re being kissed. It’s like every inch of your body becomes one with his.

Your fingers graze his hair, pulling him closer as his hands find their place on your hips. He pushes his body flush against yours, earning a moan from your lips. The fingers of his right hand sneak under the hem of your shirt to dig into your skin. 

He pulls away after what feels like minutes of making out, panting slightly. His fingers play with the hem of your shirt and he looks down.

“Can I?” He asks to which you agree. Your shirt is pulled over your head in a swift motion, revealing your peach-coloured bra. Suddenly you feel glad you decided to put on a bra when you went for a walk because you nearly decided to not wear one.

“Fuck.” He moans at the sight of you. His hand comes up to cup your left breast through the padding of your bra. “You’re so beautiful.” He kisses your neck, up to your ear. You gain confidence from his words and let your hands travel over his chest, down his sides all the way to the hem of his own shirt. You look him in the eyes for permission. 

“Do it.” He whispers in your ear while he keeps on kissing every inch of your ear, neck, and jawline. You pull the shirt over his head revealing his perfect abs. You can’t help but put one hand flat on his stomach to feel his muscles and moan softly. Your eyes meet his and he has a beautiful smile plastered across his lips. 

His lips are back on yours and his fingers hook in the waistband of your jeans. He’s greedy to get you out of your clothes as soon as possible. He opens the button. His left hand grabs your face and he kisses you passionately on your lips as he puts his right hand in the back of your jeans to squeeze your bum. 

“Hmm, you feel so good.” He squeezes your flesh one more time before he pushes the fabric over your ass. You step out of your jeans and push him further into the room. Your lips reconnect. 

Harry leads you to the chair in the corner of the room and pushes you down in the chair. Your eyes fall down his body and stay glued to the tent starting to form in his sweatpants. His fingers wrap underneath your chin to pull your face up. 

“Eyes up here, baby.” He says. He spreads your legs to stand in between them and strokes his hand over your inner thighs, to your stomach, and up to your lips. He puts his thumb against your lips with his fingers resting on your cheek. You open your lips and softly suck on his thumb getting it slightly moist. 

He takes his finger back out of your mouth and his hands explore down to your chest. Both hands grab one boob each and massage your skin through your bra. He makes sure to flick his thumbs over your hardening nipples every now and then. 

You sink further down into the chair, practically laying on your back with your bum on the edge of the seat. Your feet are tucked around his waist and your legs are spread open to reveal your clothed crotch. Harry is standing right in front of the chair, causing his crotch to gaze over your most sensitive spot when he moves close enough. 

You moan at the pressure he’s applying to your chest. His big hands fit perfectly around your tits and it’s all you’ve been thinking about. Well, not all, but you get the point.

He pulls down the cups of your bra, to expose your breasts. Your nipples are hard and needy. His lips attach to your right nipple to suck on them before he lets go and gently strokes his fingers down your stomach, back towards your inner thighs. The soft touch of his fingertips tickles, sending a buzzing feeling straight to your clit.

He kneels in front of the chair you’re sitting on and wraps his hands around your waist. He places a couple of kisses on your thighs, right next to your core. But never touching where you need it most. He’s making you all needy, drawing moan after moan. 

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” Harry asks. But the view in front of him already gives him the answer he is looking for. You’re dripping through your panties, completely ruining them and every touch is rewarded with another moan coming from your lips.

“Mhm, fuck yes.” You half moan.

Harry finally places a kiss on the wet spot forming on your panties. You immediately put your hand in his hair. After a few more open-mouthed kisses on top of the fabric, he finally pulls them to the side. He lets out a low moan at the sight and smell in front of him. 

He attaches his lips to your core, leaving another open-mouthed kiss on your labia before he sucks the juices into his mouth. Another loud moan escapes his lips, you’re sure anyone who’d walk by would be able to hear the both of you.

“You taste so fucking good, baby.” Harry moans. He pushes your panties further to the side and you help him hold them there, giving him full access to taste every single inch of you. He licks up from your bottom all the way to your clit and you can’t help but whine. He continues to gently lick around your clitoris, making sure not to apply too much pressure at once. It feels like pure ecstasy. 

His hands stroke the insides of your thighs again while they travel to your core. With two hands, he spreads you open to allow him to stick his tongue inside of you. He pushes in and out of you a few times before his tongue travels back to your clit. Licking and sucking softly, building up the pressure. He for sure is taking his time with you. His eyes are locked on yours to gauge what you like and don’t like. But so far you seem to have entered another world. With your left hand locked in his hair and your head thrown back.

Harry starts to put more pressure on your clit with his tongue making you all squirmish. Your soft moans go up in loudness. His lips leave your clit but his finger is quick to stroke circles around it before he inserts his finger into your pussy hitting you right on that spongy part. His finger pushes in and out of you and his tongue gently swipes from left to right. 

He applies even more pressure to your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud every now and then. His one finger inside of you pumps in and out, building up a faster pace. More juices start to spill from your pussy so he licks from down all the way up to your clit again to collect your wetness and slurp it all up. It’s a sign you’re coming close to your orgasm. Your legs start shaking around his shoulders and he continues his work, going faster and sucking harder.

Soon you can’t contain your moans and your orgasm hits you harder than it has ever done before. Harry’s fingers don’t seem to slow down though, and his tongue is still attached to your sensitive clit. Your moans turn into high-pitched whines mixed with curse words falling from your lips.

“Fucking hell, please” You moan, trying to push his face away from your cunt. His finger falls from your pussy and he softly caresses your mount with a flat hand, his lips are still attached to your clit but he stopped sucking as he moans loudly. The vibrations of the sounds he’s making shoot right through your body. He completely removes his face from you and wipes the wetness from his chin. 

“God, I wanna do that again. You sound so fucking pretty.” He tells you before he connects his lips to yours. The tangy taste of yourself is all you can focus on, making you feel dizzy. 

Harry looks you up and down. He gets up off his knees so he can finally drop his sweats to the floor. The erection in his loose-fit boxers makes you curious, but it gives you a good idea of how big he is. 

He holds out his hand for you to help you get up from the chair. His arms wrap around your body once you’re on your feet and he kisses you deeply. His hands take hold underneath your bum. 

“Jump.” He commands and you listen without a second thought. You wrap your arms around his middle and his erection softly presses into your core. You moan and nestle your face into his neck. Your hips try to grind down on him, although you’re not as successful as you’d hoped. Harry walks to the end of the bed to place you down. 

“Let’s get you out of these.” You say as you put your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. You pull them down so he can step out of them. He pushes you on your shoulders, tipping you over so you’re lying on your back and his hands hold your knees to spread them open again. With one hand he pumps his cock a few times and with the other, he pushes your panties back to the side before he pushes the tip of his cock through your folds. 

“Shit, a condom.” He curses. “I don’t know if I have one.” He says honestly. It’s not like he thought he was getting laid during his work trip so he didn’t pack any. He rushes to his wallet in hopes of finding one in there. He opens the coin section and is happy to be greeted by a silver foil. He takes it out before he returns to you and puts on the protection. 

He goes back to what he started. He rubs the tip of his now rubber-covered cock over your clit, stimulating the sensitive nub. You immediately are a moany-mess again before he slides his tip down and inters your cunt. He pushes in and out, going deeper with every thrust. His thrusts are gentle as he knows you’re close to being overstimulated. 

His hands hold your thighs down before he starts moving back and forth at a faster pace. He bends down to attack your right nipple with his mouth. He sucks sharply and licks over the hard bump. 

The bed starts squeaking loudly when he holds you down around your hips to be able to fuck up into you faster. His skin slaps against yours making the most erotic sounds audible in the hallway and possibly in the neighboring rooms. 

Harry wraps his hand around your neck, not really applying pressure but just holding you in place as he trusts into you slower but with more power. Smacking his pelvis against your clit with every trust. Your panties slipped back down covering half your labia again. 

“Let’s get these out of the way.” You laugh. Harry pulls out so you’re able to remove your underwear but he’s back inside of you as soon as possible. He’s bucking up, trying to hit your G-spot every time he pushes in. And he knows he’s doing a good job as your moans went up a pitch again. 

He grabs your hips and keeps fucking you hitting your G-spot hard every, single, time. The trusts change from hard and deep to soft and fast. Giving you a whole other sensation. He keeps switching between the two different paces until he finds you squirming underneath him again. He bucks his hips hard and deep into you and after a few more trusts you reach your second orgasm, screaming and squirting all over him. 

You were about to apologize but Harry has already attached his lips to your cunt to lick up all the leftover juices. He’s moaning loudly as he’s trying to clean you up. Your own moans become quieter and turn into soft hums as you nestle your hand into his hair, grabbing him tightly. 

He starts assaulting your clit like he used to when you were sitting in the chair. His tongue is doing wonders on your overstimulated clit and it only takes a couple of strokes of his wet muscle to get you to reach your height again. This time however it feels shorter and less intensive, but still your moans picked up again. It’s like music to Harry’s ears.

“Fuck, Y/N, you are so fucking perfect.” He moans, kissing you sloppily. His hips meet yours and both of you hum to the feeling. Harry takes a hold of his cock and guides it back inside of you. His hips grind over yours, giving you way too much stimulation but god does it feel good. 

He places his left foot on the bed next to your bum and starts pounding into you. He puts one of his hands on top of your mouth as you can’t contain any of the sounds you’re making. Harry knows it’s already too late when it comes to waking up the neighbors but he doesn’t wanna keep bothering them all night.

Never have you been fucked this hard, fast, and deep all at the same time. It’s starting to feel overwhelming and you can’t stop whining at how good you feel. Harry keeps miraculously pounding into you as he starts to moan loudly himself as well. 

His moans send shivers down your spine, he sounds otherworldly. The deeper his moans get, the sloppier his trusts become. He spills all of his cum inside of the condom before his moans quiet down and he pulls out. He’s panting loudly and he gently swats the back of your thigh twice. He rubs his cock up and down your pussy one more time before he kneels down again and licks your pussy clean. 

“Stay where you are.” He says and places a quick kiss on your lips. He walks to the bathroom to toss the condom and grab a damp towel to properly clean you up. He dabs the lukewarm towel to your overstimulated core and softly strokes the fabric down once or twice. He puts the towel down on the floor where all of your juices squirted in an attempt to minimize the mess.

“There, now let’s get comfy.” He says and gets into bed. “Do you want a shirt?” He asks to which you nod. He gets up to grab his white tee from before and hands it to you. It smells deliciously like his skin in the best way possible. You put it on and it reaches up to your upper thigh. 

Harry lays back down in bed and you crawl next to him. He naturally opens his arms for you to cuddle up to him. 

“I‘ve never been fucked that good.” You chuckle as you take a deep breath. The room smells and looks like sex but neither of you seems to care. 

“Hmm, you felt so good.” Harry’s ego boosts at your comment. And if he’s honest, he’s never been with someone he enjoyed so much and he simply can’t wait to do it again. “I hope you’re going to stay the rest of the night, right?” He asks. 

“I didn’t plan on getting up, I’m way too comfortable here.” You reply to which Harry only pulls you in closer. He places a soft kiss on your forehead with a soft hum. 

“Goodnight, baby.” He whispers to which you answer a simple goodnight. 

***

You wake up the next morning with Harry’s body wrapped around yours. The sound of your alarm was ringing from the nightstand. It’s a good thing you charged your phone last night when you were trying to sleep otherwise it would’ve been out of power and therefore not been awakened. 

“What time is it?” Harry asks, his voice low and sexy as he’d just woken up. 

“7:30.” You answer, to which he shoots up. 

“Shit, I forgot to set my alarm. I need to be at work in an hour.” He sighs, but actually, he doesn’t really care. He has the most beautiful girl lying in his bed, breakfast can wait for once and he can also head to work half an hour later, he already prepared everything for today anyway. 

He lays back down and rolls on his side to face you. 

“Hi.” He says. 

“Hi.” You reply, and both of you laugh softly. 

“So, I hope you have no regrets from last night. I didn’t mean to push you into anything you didn’t want.” Harry says, to which you take his face between your hands to pull him closer. You connect your lips to his. 

“Not one single bit.” You reply before Harry deepens the kiss. His cock is already hard, as most men wake up with an erect member. But the beautiful girl in his T-shirt next to him is making him lose his mind. 

His hands travel down her side and cup her pussy. One finger gently slides between her already damp lips and rubs circles around her clit. 

“Har, we don’t have time for this.” You whine and he knows you're right. He sighs before he takes his fingers back from your pussy and licks the tip of his finger clean. 

“I’m sorry. You’re just irresistible.” He flirts. 

“It’s gonna be a long day then.” You joke, neither of you had thought about having to go through today and act like nothing has happened. 

“We’ll see about that.” He argues as if he doesn’t think there’s going to be a lot of tension. “Let’s just get ready for breakfast.” He says and gets out of bed to get dressed. 

You sit up and think for a bit. All your stuff is two rooms down the hall and you don’t feel like getting into your nasty clothes from the day before, especially those panties which are ruined. 

“Can I borrow your sweatpants for a bit?” You ask Harry. “I need to go to my room to get ready.” You explain. He grabs his sweats off the floor and hands them to you. You’re now wearing the complete outfit Harry was wearing when he pulled you into his room. 

“I’ll see you in a few minutes.” You say before kissing him once again and head out to your own room. 

You took a quick shower to rinse off the sweat of the night before, brushed your teeth, and got dressed in a fresh set of clothing. 

When you’re all set and ready, you grab your room key and exit your room. You walk the short distance down the hallway to Harry’s room and raise your hand to knock on his door but he already has it opened before your hand can hit the wood. 

“Let’s go get some fuel.” He says and grabs you by your hand. He leads you all the way to the elevator. He pressed the button to the ground floor where the breakfast buffet was. 

The elevator stops at the second floor. You quickly pull your hand back as you know there are classmates sleeping on that same floor. And since Harry and you haven’t discussed anything about how to move forward, you’d rather not get the confrontation in the middle of an elevator. However, luckily it wasn’t someone either of you knew. 

Once the both of you enter the restaurant, Harry a few steps ahead of you, you notice all your classmates who also slept in the same hotel already sitting at your designated table. 

“Wow Harry, we thought you had already left. You’ve never been this late before.” One of them recalls. 

“Yeah, you’re always the first to eat and the first to leave.” Someone else joins in. 

You don’t know where to look or what to say. It feels like getting caught as you are well aware of the reason why Harry hasn’t eaten yet. Both of you decide to go fill up a plate with a delicious breakfast and just try to ignore the comments. 

“I feel like we’re already getting caught.” You tell him as you stand next to him putting some eggs on your plate. 

“Don’t worry your pretty head over it, there’s no way for them to know.” He reassures. 

You sit back at the table before Harry does. He’s in line for the coffee machine. 

Your friend looks at you. “Spill. The. Tea.” She mouths so no one can hear, but you can see. You giggle to yourself and shake your head no. But she just knows something is up. 

Harry walks back to the table with two cups of coffee. He puts the black coffee in front of himself and the cappuccino next to your plate. 

“Thank you, ba-“ You quickly stopped saying what you wanted to say, hoping no one had noticed. You look around the table but there are no suspicious looks. Harry places his hand on your knee and squeezes softly. 

“You’re welcome.” He says. 

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hi! I really like your writing, and I was wondering if I could request a Yandere!Platonic 1st Years (+Grim) with an Eri!Reader?

How would they feel learning of her abused, trauma, and her unfamiliarity with general society and social norms? (Who’s looking murderous when they see just the scars littered around her arms and legs when her bandages are removed?)

Though it’s a whole different story when she says she sees her power as nothing but a ‘curse’, and her existence a ‘burden’ that only makes others suffer? All because of the man named ‘Overhaul’, the one who did this so her? (Who’s about to go feral when she admits she doesn’t remember how to smile?)

But she starts to become more positive thanks to Grim and slowly the others (She likes Grim and is very sparkly eyed because he talks, breaths fire and thinks he’s amazing)

Imagine when she says she made a friend all on her very own who’s ‘like her’, though they lightly chastise her that she shouldn’t talk with strangers (It’s Malleus, they’re both lonely, have horns she has 1, while Malleus has 2, have an incredible power that’s very dangerous, and they’re unfamiliar/slow with society)

Eri Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

You’ve been through so much….so you’ve been told. The pain, the heartbreak, the constant voice in your head that has guilt weighing on your little heart. Your transportation to Twisted Wonderland couldn’t come at a better time. They’re going to welcome you cage you to this new world more than willing to spoil you to your hearts content:

Grim 

“Oi oi servant they all think we’re monsters!”

“...yeah?”

“Yeah! So we gotta show them we’re gonna be the greatest mages in here!”

“Oh….okay!”

He’s the perfect chaotic companion

He teaches you to allow yourself to do what you want

Granted his guidance isn’t all knowing

No matter how tasty Heartslabyul’s tarts are you shouldn’t eat them everytime you visit — especially without permission

Either way you’re learning to forgive yourself and allow you to have fun

And leave it to Grim to say whatever snarky thing you’d like to say when your big-brothers get in the way

“Nyeh! You won’t be able to do anything against my flames, nyah!”

Ace Trappola

“Hey if I catch you moping about that plague doctor guy, I’ll sock ya in the head!”

“Ace?!”

“I-i-i won’t!”

In a weird way you’re so used to being bullied (by kai) that you tend to take his bully-affection to heart

You know he cares, he just won’t tell you often

He reminds you of a certain blonde…

It also makes you more privy to his very willing desire to steamroll over anyone he deems a problem for you

“I think he meant that as a joke, Ace…”

“Joke schmoke, I warned you, you stain! I’m putting you in the medical wing.”

“Ace, please!” 

Deuce Spade

“(Y/n), did you eat today? Are you feeling well? Do you need me to carry you!”

Mother hen of the group

He’s hovering close behind even when you don’t see him

Always making sure you’re safe and happy as can be

He’s teeming with anxiety if he’s not watching you himself

Even worse if you get hurt accidentally or on purpose

Now he’s Mama bear totally bearing the claws to protect you

He’s not going to leave you to defend yourself

Especially when your abilities hinge on your mental state

He’s trying his best

“Are you doing the breathing techniques Crewel recommended? Where’s your paper bag?”

Jack Howl

“Hello little one.”

“Hi.”

“Would you…like to sit on my shoulders?”

“Yes!”

Your #1 guard dog

Doesn’t have to worry considering Deuce is freaking out for him

He’ll be the sane voice of reason because Ace isn’t anywhere close to reliable in his eyes

Naturally he entrances you with his tail and overall dog-like personality

But don’t forget he’s got the bite force of a wolf that he’s not afraid to use if he deems fit

“Pup, don’t stop yourself from having fun or being…young. I–we will keep you safe.”

Epel Felmier

“You’re so pretty.”

“...Thanks.”

You’re the only one who can get away with calling him that

And he loves nothing more than escaping Vil to find out what other sweet makes you smile sweetly 

He’s also one of the first to join Ace as part of the self-proclaimed protection committee

He’s also one of the first to suggest taking it further than a mere beatdown

Anything for his new little sibling

“If there’s no body…there’ll be no problems.”

Sebek Zigvolt

“TINY HORNED HUMAN! WHERE IS YOUR DIASOMNIA PIN!” 

“Uhm…Ace took it from me…said it was unfair.”

“THAT FOOL. COME CHILD I SHALL BESTOW UPON YOU THE PIN AGAIN.”

Is definitely apart of a brainwash committee of his own and is insistent you become Diasomnia’s new mascot…under Malleus of course

His loudness sometimes scares you off but he means well

And will no doubt join the others if a few heads need to roll

“Rest easy, child. On my watch, no one will harm you.”

[orphicdreamers-wp]

Mountain With A View — Mat Barzal

Summary; In which your marriage takes a turn for the worse. First chapter of “Rolling Up The Welcome Mat”

A sad sigh left your lips as your eyes fluttered open. Out of instinct you reached for your husbands side of the bed, only to come up empty handed. Like always. You pulled the blanket off of your body and got out of bed. The first thing you noticed was how cold it was in the top floor penthouse you and Mat lived in.

You slid on one of Mat’s zip up jackets and made your way into the kitchen. The New York skyline was just being illuminated by the rising sun. It was still rather dark in the penthouse. The kitchen was illuminated solely by the digital clock on the stove. The time read 6:47am. You yawned as you flipped the coffee machine on and a small silver object on the kitchen counter was shimmering in the sunlight. Mat’s wedding ring.

You looked at the elegant wedding band on your finger. The longest it had been off your finger was during your honeymoon when you and Mat went snorkeling. You poured yourself a cup of coffee before returning to your bedroom to retrieve your cellphone. You sat at the table you and Mat had picked out during your engagement. You opened instagram to find a new post from Mat. Apparently he was in Toronto for a game that you were unaware he had. He’d posted a view pictures with a few teammates and one photo stuck out to you the most.

It was a picture of your husband, Quinn Hughes and a red headed woman who’s hand was resting on your husbands chest uncomfortably close to his waist. What was more hurtful was Mat’s hand that was wrapped around her shoulder, his ring finger front and center and ringless. You had finally reached the breaking point. Your marriage had been in jeopardy for years. You two really only had one good year of marriage before you sought out marriage counseling.

You knew in the moment that your marriage was over. You got up and walked over to the kitchen and opened the cabinet and pulled out a bottle of wine and a glass before sitting back at the table. You weren’t sure how much much time had passed since you decided your marriage was over and the time your husband came home. But it wasn’t long enough for you to get all of your stuff packed.

“Where are you going?” You spun around at the sound of your husbands voice, “Home. I’m going back to Baton Rouge for a while.” Mat looked at you with a confused expression on his face, “And you weren’t gonna clear it with me? Your husband?” You shook your head as you zipped your suitcase, “Nope. I actually wanted to talk to you about that.” You walked over to the bedside table and opened the drawer and pulled out a manilla folder and extended it to Mat. Mat’s eyes skimmed the page, “You have to be kidding me right?”

You shook your head, “I’m just tired of this Mat. You don’t even wear your ring anymore.” Mat looked around for his ring causing you to scoff, “Don’t bother.” Mat looked up to meet your tearstained face, “I can’t believe you’re just giving up this easy. You’re acting like your parents.” You stared at your husband hopelessly, it wasn’t your husband anymore. It was like talking to a stranger. You grabbed your suitcase and purse, “I’m gonna go to Bella’s place for a while. I’ll see you when we have our first meeting with lawyers. Bye Mat.” As you left the room you slipped your wedding ring off and placed it on the counter. The moment you were alone in the elevator of your penthouse the tears finally flowed

[stylesharrys]

Knight in Skinny Jeans

Y/N gets stood up and Harry is her knight in skinny jeans and a Fleetwood Mac t-shirt.

A/N: this is an old patron exclusive fic guys, it is more of a little lengthy blurb but it's something for just you guys! this also has Zayn in it I miss him :(

WC: 2k

//

In all her years of life, Y/N’s only ever been hauntingly afraid of one thing. Spiders and bugs have never bothered her, and even as a child, she didn’t mind the dark. She seeks comfort in thunderstorms and welcomes the rush of adrenaline when she stands at great heights. She’s not afraid of much, but there’s one thing that makes her wish the ground would swallow her whole.

In retro respect, she supposes it wasn’t the best idea to agree to meet him at the restaurant. And looking back now, she guesses making as much as an effort would only get her hurt.

It doesn’t change where she is now, though—tucked away in the booth with a half-empty glass of water and a grumbling belly. And let’s not forget the overwhelming sense of nausea in the pit of her stomach.

Embarrassment. That’s Y/N’s biggest fear.

Y/N supposes it stems somewhere deep in her childhood, where a traumatising memory takes place that her mind has blocked from remembering.

She’s been stood up. Plain and simple.

He’s over an hour late and not replying to her texts, so she thinks she gets the message.

Y/N feels a little sick. Her hands are clammy, and she can’t seem to stop her knee from bouncing under the table. She gnaws her bottom lip raw, and her eyes are scatty as she gazes over other guests in hopes they’re not all looking at her and realise what’s going on.

She’s never been stood up before, and in a classy restaurant such as she’s in now, dressed to the nines, it only makes matters worse. If she stands up and walks out, everyone will know she’s been stood up. But she can’t sit and wait around, either.

Y/N feels like they already know—like they’re snickering under their breaths and all eyes are on her.

She’s wrong. No one has noticed yet, and she needs to get out of the damn booth before another waiter comes over with a pitty-filled smile and asks if she’d like to order or not.

Maybe she’s lucky her tea dress can be considered a little casual, and perhaps if she plays her cards right and leaves smiling, people may think she’s left early from dinner with a group of friends.

Y/N knows she shouldn’t be overthinking it this much, but she is. Her chest and neck feel hot with heat, and her eyes are prickling with tears as her nose starts to tingle. She needs to get out of here.

Y/N clears her throat and reaches for her little purse, standing and evening out her outfit. She’s put the bag over her shoulder as she manoeuvres through dim, candle-lit tables to make for the restroom.

She tries to keep a light smile on her face when she brushes past a brisk waiter before pushing into the toilets. It’s empty inside, the harsh lights reflecting over her and highlighting her most unattractive features. She closes the door and makes for the line of sinks, a long mirror coating the wall behind them.

Y/N lets out a shaky breath and braces herself against the counter. She can feel her eyes starting to water, the way she loses control, and her lower lip begins to tremble. She can feel the way her knees start to buckle, how her head grows fuzzy, and everything becomes too much.

She feels stupid. How could she believe she had a chance with someone like Daniel fucking Morell? The idea of seeing him again in class next week is disgusting to her. So much so that she starts to wonder if it’s too late to change her major completely.

Boys are horrible.

Y/N takes another deep breath and stands taller. She straightens her back and plasters on her most believable smile. Her theory is: if nobody sees her sad, how can they have pity?

With her shoulders held high, Y/N pushes her way out of the bathroom and through the restaurant. She walks with ease, lets people believe the glimmer in her eyes is pure happiness and confidence. She doesn’t let them look long enough to realise they’re tears of overwhelming sadness and embarrassment.

She knows she’ll cry the night out when she gets back to the safety of her dorm room.

Y/N doesn’t spare anyone another glance before she pushes out the glass doors of the expensive restaurant and it’s when the cold air of the splintering night hits her, that she feels the heaviness of the situation sit heavy on her shoulders.

She was finally asked on a date by one of the most popular boys on campus -- the boy she’s been crushing on for the longest time -- the boy that they all know is well out of her league. And he stood her up, plain and simple. He told her he’d meet her at the restaurant, and then he ignored her texts.

She wouldn’t be surprised if she rounded the corner and found him and his friends waiting for her just to sit and point and laugh.

Stupid, Y/N. Stupid!

It’s pretty quiet outside (save for a few girls to her left that she briefly recognises from school, and a couple is waiting for a taxi to her right).

She reaches into her purse for her phone, reckons she’ll just call a taxi rather than walking a mile and a half home. The cold air bites at Y/N’s skin, and she’s a shivering mess of nerves and anxiety. She feels naked; like everyone knows she was just stood up.

She needs to stop caring so much what people think.

But it’s when she’s typing away at the Uber app that the girls from moments ago approach her. Y/N looks up from her phone, brows raised slightly and while they all seem vaguely familiar, she doesn’t recall any of their names.

“Y/N, right? We share Mr Harris’ class on Thursdays.”

She’s pretty, Y/N acknowledges. Soft brown hair and gorgeous tan skin. She’s got lean legs and a cute button nose -- captivating brown eyes and if it wasn’t for the fact that she’s incredibly intimidating, Y/N thinks she could quickly develop a bit of a crush on the unnamed girl.

Y/N nods. “Yeah. I don’t know your names, though…” she eases off with a gentle chuckle -- one that suggests discomfort but neither of the other three girls say anything.

They shrug her off, waving their hands with a dismissive headshake. “Doesn’t matter. What are you doing here?” The same girl from before speaks again, and Y/N can feel that lump bubbling up her throat.

Her voice has grown louder as she asks the question and Y/N knows she’s about to be outed for being stood up. She doesn’t look around her; she can’t bring herself to. Instead, she pretends her face and neck aren’t scorched burnt and keeps that unconvincing smile on her face.

She doesn’t realise that the loudness of their tone catches the attention of a certain boy that also happens to attend the same college and share a fair few classes with all four girls.

Harry’s brows knit together as he passes off the lit cigarette to another of his friends. They’ve just left the pub, and he’s a few beers under, but if anything, he only feels more aware of his surroundings. He strains his ears to listen in, can already gather something’s going on.

Y/N’s back is toward the group of them, and all Harry can see is the smug grin on Chelsey’s face. He grimaces. She’s always been a cunt. But then he sees her lips move.

“Where’s your date? You’re not here alone… are you?”

Harry doesn’t bother to tell his friends he’ll be right back. Instead, he palms off his drink to Zayn and exhales the last puff of smoke he didn’t realise he was holding in. There was no way in hell he was about to let Chelsey and her two minions gang up on some (no doubt) innocent and nice enough girl.

His feet kick over to them. He sees the back of Y/N’s head, but he doesn’t recognise her from the position. Her hair is down, she’s got on a pretty tea dress with black tights and some little black booties. Even from a few feet away, Harry can see she’s shivering and cowering into herself.

He takes a deep breath and shrugs off his jacket, leaving him bare to the cold air in just a pair of skinny jeans and his old Fleetwood Mac t-shirt. He approaches the four of them, and Chelsey clocks him first, but he takes no notice.

“Sorry babe, boys were taking ages.” His raspy voice is what has Y/N turning around and Harry’s setting his jacket across her shoulders and pulling her into him.

She looks up, completely bewildered but when she recognises him, she relaxes just a little. She knows Harry from classes, and she’s worked a project or two with him before. They’re friendly, sure, but she’s confused as to why he’d willingly save her off his own back.

She feigns a warm smile, though it’s half genuine. She thinks he’s her knight in skinny jeans.

Harry smiles down at her just the same, and he finally recognises who it is he’s saved and he’s a little surprised. He didn’t peg Y/N to be the type of girl to be stood up. Harry reckons she’s a pretty cool girl; kind and funny, super-smart, too. And she looks extra pretty, now he’s really looking at her.

He can tell she’s made an effort for her date tonight and the fact that she’s been stood up makes him a little agitated.

“S’okay. Know how they can be.”

Y/N plays into it leisurely, coddling into his side. She sets a hand on his chest as she rubs over his left peck and Harry chances it to reach down to give her a tender kiss to the top of her head.

He finally addresses the girls.

“What we chattin’ about?” He stuffs a hand in his pocket and bites back a laugh at the look of pure disgust on Chelsey’s face.

She scoffs to herself, but Y/N doesn’t give her a chance to say anything. “They were just making sure I had a lift home. Girls looking out for girls, just like we should.”

Harry knows Y/N’s lying through her teeth, but he doesn’t say anything -- decides to nod and play along. He hums. “Hate to cut it short then, but the boys are gonna go to The Napier. D’ya fancy goin’ or d’ya jus’ wanna go home? S’whatever you want, love.”

She stares at him for a moment, ponders what he’s offering. Harry hopes she gets the hint that he’s actually offering, that if she doesn’t want to come, he’ll get her an Uber home. Y/N hopes that’s exactly what he’s doing, and she can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s actually offering.

“The Napier sounds good to me.” Y/N grins wide, snuggling into his side and Harry says nothing about how fast her heart is pounding against the side of his ribs.

She’s thankful, knees nearly buckling that he came and saved her, and she reckons she could actually cry. She turns back to the girls, ignores the tingly of her nose. “Thanks for checking in girls. I’ll see you Thursday?”

They don’t have the chance to reply because Harry is pulling Y/N away and toward his small group of friends, and Zayn has been watching the whole thing with a teasing smirk and a raised brow.

“Thank you so much.” Y/N finally breathes out in relief. Harry’s arm is still thrown over her shoulder, so he gives her a reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t mention it. Have a few drinks wi’ us and forget ’bout whoever stood ya up. He’s a knob anyway, doesn’t deserve a good girl like you.” Harry kisses the top of her head again, and Y/N all but melts into his touch.

“I’ll be your date tonight instead.”

[tmpestuous]

Six Days

Summary: You make the effort to avoid Bucky during a mission after he upsets you in an argument, but things quickly take a turn for the worse. 

Pairing: bucky x avenger!reader

Word count: 4k

Warnings: fluff, angst, slight mentions of torture/hydra experimentation, blood, canon level violence, hurt!reader, sad!bucky

a/n: welcome to my first (real) post! i haven’t written in a long time so my apologies if this is a bit rusty. this was inspired by an excerpt on a post i saw and decided to turn it into a prompt: 

“He held her face in his hands. 

‘Do you think I care about anything but you?’”

--

You were on edge. 

This was the first mission in a long time where you hadn’t spent the night before with Bucky, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s arms, and waking up with another before heading off. Your regular routine almost happened. It would have happened if it hadn’t been for the argument that happened just about five minutes before you were ready for bed, an argument you deemed unnecessary and frustrating the second you stormed out of Bucky’s room and back into the one you barely spent any time in anymore. 

Not having that routine definitely threw you off your game. After dealing with a restless night and a series of tosses and turns, you decided to just stay up until you had to leave. 

Biggest mistake you could have ever made, you thought.

You packed everything you needed and, first thing in the morning, walked straight into the kitchen to fill up a thermos with a lot more coffee than you’d ever drink on a normal day before heading off to the quinjet launchpad without a word. Everyone else eyed you as you walked out; your usual, greeting nature was replaced by a silent one, a sight no one had seen since you first joined the Avengers. Once you exited, everyone’s eyes quickly turned to Bucky who had walked in just as silent. Though it was less rare for Bucky to avoid conversation, the two of you being separate was the clear elephant in the room.

Bucky looked up to meet everyone’s gazes on him, his brows furrowing immediately in annoyance.

“What’s the problem?” 

“Something going on between you and Y/n?” Sam asked without hesitation. He beared witness to the entirety of your relationship with Bucky, especially since he was often assigned to missions with the both of you. If anyone could tell something was off, it’d be him. 

“She’ll get over it,” Bucky replied monotonously before also heading out to the launchpad, everyone else straggling out shortly after.

You were already sitting in your normal seat inside of the quinjet, scrolling absentmindedly on your phone to distract yourself from the eyes that would eventually fall on you as you heard everyone else approaching. 

Though you were still angry, Bucky was not. In fact, he was more angry with himself than he was with you. He didn’t even think he was upset with you at all, but he was convinced you thought otherwise. 

Finishing a shower after an intense sparring session had never felt better to you. 

You had been with the Avengers for about two years now, picking up on more useful ways to use your fighting abilities rather than always being so destructive. Old members of Hydra, who decided they wanted to somehow reinstate and resolidify the organization, had taken you–along with more people than you could count on both of your hands–to be experimented on with a serum similar to the ones used on Bucky and Steve. After managing to escape, you had definitely lost a piece of yourself. It took a while to warm up to the thought of fighting alongside such honorable people, but after two years, you had found your home. 

The first year and a half was strictly training and shadowing anyone who had gone on a mission. You were eager to prove yourself as being part of the team, and in the last six months, Steve and Tony had agreed to allow you to not just shadow missions, but be part of them. You had just finished mission 26 as being “part of the team” two days ago, and Steve had stopped you before your workout with Natasha to let you know that he thinks you might be able to do your first solo mission. 

That news definitely kicked your motivation into overdrive during sparring. Natasha’s never been one to go easy on you, per your own request, and was riding on a 10-0 streak against you.

That streak got broken fairly quicker than she had expected.

Upon finishing your workout, you were most excited to tell Bucky the news. He had been there the whole ride to see just how hard you’ve worked to get to where you are today, especially sharing the experience of being under Hydra and struggling to use your abilities for the right reasons. 

But for some reason, things just didn’t go as you expected. 

And it hurt. Really hurt.

Bucky stepped on the jet and gave you a quick glance. Everyone else had taken their usual seat, meaning the only one available was the one he always took right next to yours. He sighed deeply to himself before sitting down, seeing you immediately cross your arms across your chest from his peripheral vision.

This was definitely going to be a long trip.

You didn’t say a word to him the entire ride. Not even so much as a shoulder or thigh touch. You kept your stoic nature for all of the ten hours you were sat next to him. 

Bucky was losing his patience, and the only person he blamed was himself. This might have been the first day in the year and some months that you’ve been together that you hadn’t said a single word to him, and it was eating him alive.

It was most definitely eating you alive too, but you couldn’t get the argument you two had out of your head. 

Bucky was starting to pack his things when you had walked into his room, his attention quickly diverting to the door and onto you, shooting you a soft smile.

“You’re back already?” He asked, knowing you always took a hefty moment to yourself to relax after sparring with Natasha. 

“You are now looking at the woman with a singular victory against Agent Natasha Romanoff,” you said confidently with a playful victory bow, making Bucky chuckle as he stood up and made his way over to you. 

Standing up straight to look up at him, Bucky cupped your face in his hands and kissed your forehead. “I’m so very proud of you, baby,” he said with his lips grazing yours that had just pulled into a small smile. 

“I also might have really good news,” you said in an eager tone, which Bucky noticed and loved immediately. 

“What’s the good news?” He asked right away as he wrapped his arms around your waist, wanting to hear your excitement. After seeing you have so many losses, with yourself and others, he knew you took every win very seriously. You reminded him of himself when he first joined the Avengers as well, and knew just how difficult it was to adjust and get even just a glimpse of triumph.

“Steve pulled me aside today and said he thinks I might be ready for solo missions,” you responded as you wrapped your arms around Bucky’s neck. “He saw how well I did during the last mission and wants to see how I do alone. He just wants Tony to agree first.”

Bucky’s face dropped slightly. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked rather than answering his question, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

Of course you thought you were ready. You had prepared long enough for this and knew you could take on the challenge. You also thought that Bucky of all people would be able to recognize that and agree. 

“You’ve only been on 26 missions, honey,” he contested. “It took me a lot longer than that before I was even able to handle a mission with just Sam.”

“So you think that I can’t go on a mission by myself because it took you longer to adjust than it took for me?” you asked incredulously as you pulled out of Bucky’s grasp and took a few steps back. 

Bucky ran his hands over his face in frustration. He knew just how stubborn you were; he had seen it mission after mission and debrief after debrief. You were never one to stand down from defending yourself and your decisions. However, you had never been so persistent with him over anything beyond a playful dispute between the both of you.

“You know that’s not what I meant, Y/n, so can we table this conversation and go to bed?” he bargained with you softly. 

You scoffed. “You just patronized me by implying that I’m incapable of handling a mission on my own and you want me to ‘table the conversation’?”

Given your tenacious anger, you knew it’d be best to not say anything at all until you felt a lot calmer about the situation. You had surely pondered if you were just overreacting, but Bucky’s words still hurt you.

He was never one to patronize you or make you feel like you couldn’t do something. In fact, it had always been the opposite. To hear that he felt you were incapable of taking on something you felt you were ready for had stung you harder than any other accusation ever thrown at you. He was the man you loved, the one person on the team who you trusted the most, and he thought you were unprepared.

So you avoided him. The jet landed and you gathered your things and walked right past him. You got lucky that Clint couldn’t come on the mission anymore and you could take his room so you wouldn’t be stuck with Bucky for the entire week. 

Bucky had felt like he was stabbing himself in the chest. He couldn’t sleep the entire night. This seemed to be a mission of firsts for the both of you, including the first time you were both on a mission and slept in different rooms since you’ve been together. 

The next morning, Bucky felt he made it worse. He wandered over to your room before it was time to meet everyone else, knocking on the door loud enough for you to hear it but not make himself obvious in the hallway.

You opened the door, looking right at him though Bucky felt like you were looking through him.

“Can we talk?” he pleaded softly. “I know this isn’t the best timing—”

“Then maybe we should wait until we get back, don’t you think?” you interrupted, your voice a bit raspy from the lack of communication with anyone.

“I can’t think straight on a mission knowing that you’re upset with me, baby,” he said, a slight tremor in his voice. You knew he didn’t want to upset you, but you also didn’t want to direct your anger towards him. It was the one thing you had both promised to each other. “Please?”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, Bucky,” you replied sternly, your use of his name feeling like a knife through his back. “Can we just do this after?”

He nodded, not wanting to prod you any further than your limit. He whispered a soft “okay” before walking back to his room.

That was the last you spoke to each other before everything happened.

Your mission started off smoothly. You were paired up with Steve, who wanted to monitor you a bit closer while on a mission to further confirm his confidence in you. He also didn’t want to pair you with Bucky when you had tension with each other, wanting the mission to go successfully and without distractions.

You and Steve would take the fifth and sixth floor of the building to locate the files you needed to extract. Natasha would take the third and fourth floor, Bucky and Sam the first and second. Tony would be eyeing the outside perimeter for extra threats and also spotting Natasha a helpful eye, though everyone knew she could handle herself well. 

After fighting off a few straggling guards, you found the file you needed. The only problem was the faint beep, beep, beep you heard somewhere in your vicinity. Steve was keeping watch outside, fighting off the backup that was eventually called when they realized you were here. You couldn’t locate where the sound was coming from, but you knew it wasn’t a good one. 

“Hey, Steve, you busy?” you said, the hint of fear in your voice.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, hearing your tone. You could hear his shield bouncing off the walls as he responded.

“I’m hearing a beeping noise from in here and I can’t find it at all,” you said as you kept tearing the room apart carefully, not trying to accidentally trigger anything. 

“What do you think it is, Agent?” he asked, and you knew he was trying to turn this into some sort of test like your life wasn’t probably at risk.

“The only possibility is an explosive of some sort,” you responded, trying to hide the irritation in your voice from still being monitored on a mission like a child. “I can’t really make out where it’s coming from and it’s nowhere that I’ve searched in the entire room, so it’s probably hidden somewhere.” The beeping then started at a quicker pace, only making your nerves go into overdrive.

“I’ll finish up out here and then help y—”

Boom. 

“Rogers? Y/l/n?” Tony spoke anxiously into comms.

“What the hell was that, Tony?” Bucky asked immediately, not liking the tone in his voice while he said both yours and Steve’s names.

“Explosion on floor five. Rogers and Y/l/n aren’t responding.”

“Y/n? Steve?” Sam tried to reach out. Nothing.

“All I’m getting is static, guys,” Natasha chimed in. “I’m headed up.”

Bucky jolted into the staircase, running faster than he could even process. He eventually caught up with Natasha, Tony and Sam both flying in from either side of the building to the fifth floor. The entire floor was filled with smoke, though the hallway was a bit clearer than the room you had been in alone.

Natasha caught a glimpse of Steve, who was thankfully conscious, as he tried to lift himself up with a a cough to expel the smoke from his lungs. Tony helped him up and Steve immediately caught Bucky’s eyes, filled with anxiety he hadn’t seen in him in a while. He then looked at the door and Bucky understood that you were in there.

He knocked the door in with no hesitation, though something was blocking his entry. Steve and Tony made their way over to help him push the door, moving the cabinet that had been flung across the room with the impact of the explosion. Bucky slipped through the door, blue eyes scattering across the room until he saw your hand sticking out from behind some debris. Using his metal arm to lift up the equipment that had fallen on top of you, he moved it over to the side before kneeling in front of you. He noticed the large piece of shrapnel sticking into your abdomen, a fairly large blood stain tainting your suit and your breaths extremely shallow.

Your eyes were half open as they landed on him, though your body desperately wanted to fall out of consciousness.

“Hey, honey, I’m here,” he said as your eyes glossed over. 

You felt too weak to talk, it hurt just to breathe with the impeding metal in your stomach. The one moment you wanted to say something to him and you couldn’t. 

“I’m here, okay? We’re gonna get you out of here,” he said as his eyes stayed firmly on you, his ears tuning out Steve directing Sam, Tony, and Natasha to prepare for an emergency evac back home. “You’re gonna be okay, everything’s gonna be okay.” 

Bucky cupped your face lightly, running his thumbs across your cheeks carefully over a few cuts. His face and tears streaming down his cheeks was the last thing you remembered seeing before the darkness reeled you in.

_

It had been six days. 

Six days since you all successfully evacuated the mission. Six days since they removed the metal from your stomach safely. Six days since they found out the extent of your other injuries from the blow. Six days since you had been unconscious. Six days that Bucky hadn’t left your side for a second.

He had already regretted everything he said to you the night before your mission, but now he felt like he had made the biggest mistake of his life by even upsetting you. Bucky knew you probably wanted to cool down, memorizing all of your coping mechanisms and the way you communicated your feelings. But something in his head told him to talk to you sooner, and he only wished you had let him before everything else fell apart.

He hadn’t slept in the six days you’d been unconscious. You had suffered such a serious head trauma that the doctors in the medical wing of the compound were surprised your scans came back clean. On top of the fractured ribs, the wound in your stomach, and the broken leg, everyone had already known you were a trooper.

By the sixth day, Bucky’s eyes were finally starting to get tired. 

He fought sleep off as hard as he could, not wanting to take his eyes off of you for a second. Sam had come in several times throughout the week to bring him food to eat, though he could barely finish any of it. Steve had urged him to go shower every day, promising to watch you and alert him if any changes had happened, pleading with him until he finally agreed. Bucky would rush to shower and immediately ran back as he had finished and gotten dressed. Steve would just give him a pat on the shoulder and a longing look, knowing he couldn’t push any more out of his best friend who was watching intently over the love of his life. 

Bucky laid his head on the small space on the side of the bed next to you, his thumb running soothing motions back and forth on your hand as his solemn, blue eyes watched you take small breaths in and out with your eyes sealed shut. His eyes then pulled him into a slumber, one he didn’t even remember falling into.

After a few hours, he felt you shuffle a bit on the bed, shooting his eyes open and seeing you rub your eyes with your free hand, his hand still intertwined in your other one. 

“Y/n?” he spoke softly, your eyes redirecting to his face and a small smile creeping on yours.

“Hi,” you said groggily. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

Bucky sat up and shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for, baby. I’m just glad you’re awake,” he reassured as he let go of your hand and moved his to rest on your cheek. “How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?”

“I feel like I got hit by a truck,” you joked in a tired voice. “How long have I been out?”

Bucky sighed, though he was glad you were feeling well enough to be playful. “Six days,” he answered. “You had a lot of injuries.”

You nodded slightly. “What about the mission?”

“Natasha and Tony took care of it,” he informed you. “They stayed behind while we evacuated to finish and found a copy of the file. Mission successful.”

You nodded once again, biting down on your bottom lip as you knew there was still unresolved tension between you and Bucky. He noticed it too, but he didn’t think it was the right time to talk about it. Not right after you woke up. 

_

A few days later, you had been discharged from the medical wing and had gone back to your room. You had told Bucky you wanted to go back to his, but he had insisted it’d be better for you to rest in yours. 

He stayed with you the first few days you were in recovery, though he didn’t sleep next to you. It hurt a bit, but you had at least felt comfort in knowing he was in the room with you. 

One morning, you had woken up and saw Bucky sleeping peacefully on the couch chair in the corner of your room, knowing he had finally gotten rest after a few days. You stayed watching him and he met your eyes immediately when you woke up.

“Hey,” he said in the raspy morning voice you knew all too well. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay,” you said as you sat up a bit in bed, to which Bucky moved to your side to help you do.

“Don’t exert yourself too much, Y/n,” he warned in a light tone. “You’re still recovering and I don’t want you to prolong y—”

“Buck, I’m okay, I promise,” you cut him off, placing your hands on his face and forcing him to look you in the eyes. His normal, cerulean eyes were a bit more clouded. They looked more gray in the dim lighting of your room, but you could also make out the sting of sadness in them. 

The longer he looked in your eyes, the more tears formed in his. “I could have lost you,” he said with a crack in his voice. “I almost lost you without making things right with you. I’m never gonna forgive myself for that.”

“We don’t have to talk about this right now, Bucky—”

“No,” he cut you off this time. “I can’t wait any longer, Y/n. It’s eating me alive and I want to make things right with you. I need to make things right with you. Everything that went wrong on that mission only made everything worse. You could have died while being on bad terms with me and I’m never, never, going to let that happen again. Do you understand me?”

You nodded slightly, tears quickly glossing your eyes as well while a tear slid past Bucky’s. He cupped your face in his hands, wiping the tears that fell down your cheeks with his thumbs as you started to play with your fingers in your lap.

“Do you think that I care about anything in this world but you?” he said, a noticeable shake in his voice while he didn’t break eye contact with you. “There is nothing that compares to you in my world. Nothing. When I heard that explosion and Tony say your name, it felt like my heart dropped. I don’t want to experience that again. Especially if I’m not with you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “So you mean—”

“I said what I said because I’m too scared not to be with you, Y/n. It’s wrong and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I made you feel like I felt you weren’t ready to be on your own. You’re more than ready and I was clouded by my own fears and patronized you when you didn’t need that. I can’t lose you, I can’t picture what the rest of my life would even look like without you in it. But my fears should never come in the way of your accomplishments that you deserve and earned, honey. Never. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you and I’m sorry that it took everything that happened for me to say it to you.”

If the tears weren’t falling from your face before, they most definitely were now. You wrapped your arms around Bucky’s torso and sobbed into his chest. He was crying too, but he wrapped his arms around you and rubbed small circles in your back to soothe you the way he always did.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out between sobs. “I didn’t want to fight with you, I just—”

“Shh,” Bucky comforted you. “It’s okay, baby, I know. I didn’t want to fight with you either, it’s on me.”

You pulled away slightly to look up at him once your sobs died down, sniffling a bit as he looked down at you with all the love and adoration he’s always had for you.

“Promise me we’ll never fight before a mission again,” you urged softly, and even though your tone was slightly playful, Bucky knew you were also half serious.

“I promise, baby,” he said, kissing your forehead twice. “Now let’s go back to sleep.”

You nodded as he made his way around the bed and slid next to you, carefully wrapping his arms around you as you both laid down and enjoyed each other’s warmth again.

__________________________________

thank you so much for reading! i thoroughly enjoyed writing this and i hope you enjoyed reading my first piece! 

[josnhoes]

Platonic!Yan batfam with young adult reader. Part 2

[Part one]

Note: Reader is 18-22 years old. Gn reader

Content warning: being treated like a child, being looked down on, stalking, obsessions, soft yandere but still a yandere, reader has memory issues and it's ambiguous as to why, drugging, mentioned abduction, delusional batfam, batfam as a whole basically view you as a child younger then Damien despite you being older

Focuses on Tim Drake

---

For the following week you'd noticed one or a few of the bat brood following you in the evenings. You weren't sure *why*, but it did make you feel a bit safer so you didn't complain. It was Gotham, any sense of safety was welcome.

The small book shop and coffee place you worked at didn't get a ton of customers. It was a hole in the wall style place, sometimes it got new customers but a majority we're regulars. There were also a few college students who used the late hours to buy a single coffee, then use the free wifi to do class work. Today's shift had you on coffee duty.

The bell chimed, signaling a customer or what you *hoped* was a customer. You looked up and were flabbergasted to see Timothy Drake, the co-ceo of Wayne enterprises. Normally you didn't pay much attention to CEOs of anything, but the Waynes were like the poster family for Gotham. One way or another you learned their faces and the names.

As he approached the counter you did your best to smile and not seem nervous. "Hello sir can I help you today?"

The look he gave you almost seemed to be taking you apart peice by peice; assessing you down to your soul. "I'll take a large coffee and as many shots of espresso as you can legally give me. For here."

You supposed today was going to be one of those™️ days. "Of course sir. Feel free to sit where ever you like. Would you like something to eat too?"

"No thanks." He seemed to soften now and once you gave the total he paid with a nice tip. Though he chose the spot closest to you to work. Probably because that was the best area for wifi signal you supposed.

You got his order out fast since it looked like he needed caffeine more then oxygen at this point. As you placed the drink down you had the urge to talk to him but decided against it.

Tim had been having a trying week. He could balance his nightlife and the company fairly well; but the addition of you had been a problem. He didn't know what it was about you that pulled him and his family in. He'd gone over your entire life that he could find multiple times now, and nothing ever changed. No secret identity, no shady acts, aside from some strange tumblr activity you were clear. Mind you all activity on tumblr was weird as he came to see. The entire batfam either made accounts just to follow you, the ones had them already followed you too.

The family adored you and he...was no exception. He tried to be, the way his family was spiraling and for one civilian was alarming. But he couldn't fight it. You were special. You *needed* them to keep you safe. You obviously couldn't be trusted to do it on your own, just today you forgot to lock your home.

While yes it made putting the cameras in your home easier, it also meant that you could have gotten robbed or worse. You'd admitted to being spacey at times online, made a joke of it but it was dangerous.

He finally took the time to sip on the coffee. It was good, better than most places he had. You clearly knew your way around the machine. Would you make him coffee in the mornings? Tell him to have a good day as you called him your favorite big brother? He needed to know.

The more he watched you, the more he worried for you. What if you got hurt? Not even in a rogue attack but in general. You obviously cooked for yourself, and cleaned. Knives and chemicals? Too dangerous for his baby sibling, and he hated knowing if something *did* happen you might be alone.

He'd speed up the family's preparations for you. You'd fight them at first so they had to prepare a special room. But you'd see how well they cared for you, how much they all loved you, and everything they could provide. Hopefully the room will be ready soon.

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [3] - Payback

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ I hope you’ll like it, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤️

Summary: Guests shouldn't overstay their welcome.

Word Count: 2800

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

You loved your best friend, you would die for her without hesitation but even you had to admit that to this day, her priorities still managed to surprise you.

“Someone shot at you and I wasn’t there? How dare you?”

You twirled the spoon in your hot chocolate. “Becca…”

“Seriously, I miss the one time someone has the audacity to try that shit?” Becca asked. “And Bucky was there instead of me? Ugh, the timing…”

“I promise I’ll call you the next time someone starts shooting at me.”

“You’d better,” she insisted. “And you didn’t even text me that night, I had to hear it from Bucky when he asked me where we got your dress from.”

You bit back a smile threatening to curl your lips.

“He shouldn’t have bothered,” you murmured. “I don’t want or need any gifts from him.”

She stole a look at you, then heaved a sigh and reached out to squeeze at your hand.

“I can’t believe you almost got taken.”

“I can’t believe someone hired a group of amateurs,” you corrected her. “I mean how rude is that? At least send a professional, you know? Where are their manners?”

“I heard Steve is still questioning the guy,” she said, taking her tea cup to her lips. “If he’s working for someone we know…”

“I doubt it.”

“So do I, but—” she paused for a moment. “Do you think this might break the truce?”

“No way,” you said. “I was unharmed and we don’t know who they are working for. Not to mention my father is too smart to break the truce.”

“Is Ian?” she asked nonchalantly and you shook your head.

“Ian isn’t the one calling the shots.”

“Thankfully,” she said, leaning back on her chair. “But he will use any and all excuses to start a war once he is the one calling the shots and the truce will be over.”

You pursed your lips before shaking your head.

“I’ll find a way to stop it,” you said. “That dickhead is not going to ruin everything our families worked for, no way.”

Becca waved her hands in the air.

“Ugh, let’s change the topic,” she said. “So you’re getting back together with your ex then?”

“It was just one dinner,” you said. “And he barely counts as an ex, really. We dated for a short time, and didn’t really spend much time outside bed.”

She wiggled her brows. “Well if you’re so eager to catch up with him after years, I’d say it was a pretty good time.”

A smile warmed your face.

“He was nice,” you said. “Nicer than most of my college boyfriends really.”

“Have you talked to him since the shoot-out?”

You paused for a moment, cradling the hot chocolate mug between your hands.

“I considered texting him but I doubt he wants to talk to me considering how disastrous that date was.”

“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I wouldn’t call a shoot-out a disastrous date.”

“He actually got shot, Becca,” you reminded her. “He had to go to the hospital.”

“Alright but there are worse dates!” she insisted. “There was that one time back in college, a guy whipped out his guitar to spontaneously serenade me on a first date, that’s much worse than getting shot at.”

“I don’t disagree,” you said, scrunching up your nose. “Wasn’t there also that one girl who talked about her ex throughout your date?”  

“Still not as terrible as the serenade guy.”

You shot her a grin before sipping your hot chocolate. “I guess I could text Ethan,” you said. “He probably doesn’t want to see me again but I feel like I should apologize so…”

“And maybe he can ask you out on a second date when you see him again.”

“I really don’t think so—” you started but your phone started vibrating on the table, making you stop talking. You took a look at the screen, your frown deepening as you did.

“Why is Bucky calling you?” Becca asked with a small laugh and you scoffed, then hit decline.

“Must be an accident,” you said. “Anyways I was going to tell you, you remember that girl from—”

This time, it was Becca’s phone that started vibrating. She raised her brows and bit back a smile, then answered the phone.

“Yes Bucky?” she asked and stole a look at you. “Why?”

You ran a hand over your face, then mouthed “don’t” but Becca ignored you.

“What am I, your assistant?” she asked Bucky, then rolled her eyes as she listened to him. “Right right, very important as usual, fine. Yeah she’s here, I’m putting her on the phone.”

She handed you the phone and you let out a groan, then took it to your ear.

“What do you want?”

“What, no hello or anything?” he taunted you and you gritted your teeth.

“Hello Bucky, what do you want?”

“I need to see you.”

“I on the other hand could live out my days happily without seeing you,” you said and he chuckled.

“Is this still about the dress?”

“It’s about your existence in general.”

“Ouch,” he deadpanned. “So does 5 o’clock work for you?”

You checked your wristwatch.

“I have plans until 4 so no.”

“I meant 5 a.m,” he corrected you and you made a face.

“Do you just not sleep?” you asked. “I mean it wouldn’t surprise me if you were a vampire, now to think of it. Leather jackets, wearing all black, you have that brooding expression all the time…”

“I’ll text you the address.”

“Oh great, do that so that I can ignore that text,” you stated. “I’m not coming anywhere at 5 a.m.”

“Charm…”

“Why on earth would I even—”

“You need to be there to see our guest off, you know the rules.”

That was more than enough to make you pause, your head snapping up. You pursed your lips and ran a hand over your face, then huffed out.

“No promises.”

“See you at dawn sweetheart,” he said and hung up. You clicked your tongue, then handed Becca her phone back.

“What is that about?”

“Steve’s guest,” you said and Becca raised her brows, then shrugged her shoulders.

“Well,” she said, grabbing her tea cup. “No wonder you’re sending him off at dawn, I’d say he overstayed his welcome.”

                                                *

Meeting Ethan was going to be awkward, you knew it was. Too bad there wasn’t a get well soon card that also included an apology for causing a person to get shot as well, so you figured you could just come up with something when you were there. You walked through the door to the café, then slowly made your way to the table he was sitting at, typing into his laptop. You cleared your throat, making his eyes shoot up at you.

“Hey.” He pushed his chair back to stand up and you offered him a smile.

“Hey.”

“Please,” he motioned at the seat across from his and you sat down, then stole a look at his shoulder when he sat down as well.

“What did the doctors say?”

“That it was a clean shot, the bullet passed right through without hitting anything important,” he said. “They bandaged it and they’ll see, but it should heal without any issues.”

“Good,” you said, letting out a breath. “I’m glad.”

A silence fell upon you for a moment and he coughed lightly, sitting up straighter.

“So,” he said. “I guess it’s nice to have an answer to my question from earlier, after all these years.”

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms in silence.

“You could’ve told me, you know? While we were dating.”

“There was nothing to tell you then,” you said after you took a deep breath. “There’s nothing to tell you now.”

“Wait, what?” he asked, letting out a laugh. “You can’t be serious Y/N, come on…”

“What?”

“How else would you explain what happened that night?”

“An unfortunate incident,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders and he shot you a look.

“Steve’s men talked to me,” he said. “You have nothing to worry about, I’m not going to tell anyone anything so you don’t have to give me that. I get how it works.”

“Oh do you now?” you asked with a small smirk and he held up his hands.

“I’ve watched The Godfather for three times,” he said, coaxing a laugh out of you.

“You do realize that if it were anyone else, they would be running for the hills right now instead of meeting up with me again?”

“I mean I’m not going to lie, it’s very intimidating,” he said. “That whole thing. But I also think you’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”

The smile on your lips faded and you swallowed thickly before biting inside your cheek, trying to keep your expression flat.

“Ah,” you said, the familiar disappointment sinking your stomach. “That’s why you accepted to talk to me again?”

“What?”

“Because you think what happened back there was exciting or something?” you asked with a scoff, then reached out to grab your purse. “You should sign up for bungee jumping classes if that’s what you want—”

“No no,” he cut you off, shaking his head. “You misunderstand me. It was terrifying.”

You arched a brow. “And yet…

“You didn’t have to do what you did to protect me,” he said, making you pull your brows together.

“I beg your pardon?”

 “I saw you,” he said, letting out a chuckle. “You were—you were kicking their asses until you saw they held the gun to my head. That’s why you stopped. For my safety.”

You pursed your lips together, then put your purse back in the chair, leaning back.

“Ethan…”

“I mean, if you’re a part of that world—”

“I said nothing like that,” you said almost automatically and he let out an impatient breath.

“Fine,” he said. “Hypothetically speaking, if you were a part of that world—”

“Hypothetically speaking,” you cut him off and stole a look around the café. “If I were a part of that world, I’d say there are rules. A code of honor.”

“A code of honor?”

“Live by the sword, die by the sword,” you recited what you had heard from your father and everyone around you multiple times. “But hypothetically, if someone is not a part of that world… Civilians didn’t sign up for that shit, and no one can force them to. Trust me, what I did wasn’t anything special.”

“Either way,” he said. “Code or not, I don’t think anyone else would have done it. That’s why I wanted to meet you actually, to thank you. What you did back there, it means a lot.”

Oh.

This was unexpected. If it were anyone else, they probably would have never wanted to see you again, let alone actually thanking you but it shouldn’t have been that surprising that Ethan saw it like that. It was one of the first thing that had drawn you to him back at college, he always managed to see the best in people.

“…Seriously?” you asked, a tiny ray of hope warming your chest and he nodded.

“Seriously,” he said. “I mean I’m not going to pretend it’s not scary but at the end of the day, I liked spending time with you.”

“I liked spending time with you as well,” you said with a small laugh. “Minus the incidents.”

“Fingers crossed for fewer incidents,” he joked and you nodded.

“No promises but I’ll try my best,” you said and he grinned, then drummed his hand on the table.

“So can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

“Oh it’d be great thank you!” you said as he stood up. “You’re very sweet. A decaf latte please.”

 He tilted his head. “Decaf?” he asked. “I remember you downing five espresso shots with zero problems, what happened there?”

“I can still do that but I should cut down on caffeine today,” you said, smiling slightly. “I need to get up really early tomorrow.”

“How early are we talking?”

“5 a.m.” you said with a sigh. “And it will not be fun, I’m telling you.”

“You’re starting on yoga or something?”

A small laugh climbed up your throat and you nodded your head.

“Uh huh,” you said as he walked to the counter. “Or something.”  

                                                      *

When the car pulled over in front of the skyscraper, you lifted your head off the window, wiping the drool off your cheek as discreetly as you could.

“We’re here, miss.”

“Thank you Carl,” you murmured before a yawn split your face and stretched out your tired muscles. The sky was still dark, and the chill of the air sent a shiver down your spine when Carl opened your door for you. You rubbed at your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up, then walked into the skyscraper with two bodyguards following you.

You stepped into the elevator and pressed the button that would get you to the roof, rubbing at your eyes while you checked your reflection in the mirror. The classic music filled the elevator, making you hum along until it came to a stop and the doors opened.

“Let’s do this then…” you murmured and walked out of the elevator, your whole body tensing up because of how cold it was. Bucky was standing in the middle of the roof, some of his men pacing around while two of them stood by the edge of the roof, looking down. The tight rope on the floor caught your eye and you followed it to the edge, tilting your head to the left.

“Is that him?” you asked and Bucky looked over his shoulder, then turned around to see you better.

“Charm,” he said. “Good morning.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered. “Why are we doing this at this hour again?”

“No potential civilian witnesses,” he said as you approached him, your shoulders still tense. He took a look at you, then shrugged off his long coat and dropped it over your shoulders, his pleasant scent filling your nostrils.

“I’m not even cold,” you said through chattering teeth even though your body immediately welcomed the warmth, and he scoffed a chuckle.

“Mm hm,” he said. “Of course you’re not.”

“That being said, I’ll send it back after I get home,” you said, your nose stuck in the air as you rolled the sleeves of the coat up a bit. “I’m not catching pneumonia just because you decided to pull this shit at dawn.”

“You should keep it,” Bucky said with a small smile. “Looks good on you.”

You rolled your eyes. “If you think—”

“Please don’t kill me, please!” the shout coming from the ledge cut you off and you glanced at the rope, then up at Bucky.

“How long has he been begging, exactly?”

“Too long for my patience,” he muttered before he raised his voice; “Shut it, asshole!”

“No no no, please I can—I’ll change,” the guy said. “I’ll—I’ll never cross paths with her again, I swear!”

“Funny, he seemed much more confident while he was shooting at me,” you commented and a dark shadow passed over Bucky’s eyes.

“Deadly mistake,” he drawled and you took a couple of steps to go to the edge of the roof to look down at the man hanging by a rope over the edge of the roof. He was too panicked to even notice you while he dangled there, trying to break free from the rope and you took a deep breath, then turned to Bucky.

“What’s his name?”

Bucky put a cigarette between his lips, then lit it and exhaled the smoke.

“Tony Willis.”

“No no no, please help me—”

“Tony Willis, you have been accused and found guilty of multiple crimes against the city,” you recited the speech you had heard from your father many times. “You have put civilians in danger, attacked a member of a key family, and tried to break the truce. The—”

“I’ll change! I’ll change I promise you!”

“The punishment for these crimes is death,” you continued, deaf to his begging. “The sentence is to be carried out immediately, by a member of the family or a person of their choosing.”

You stepped away from the ledge to walk to Bucky, ignoring the pleas of the man and Bucky stubbed his cigarette before holding out his gun for you, but you shook your head.

“I don’t want my hand to smell bad,” you muttered, scrunching up your nose and a fond smile appeared on Bucky’s lips.

“As the princess wishes,” he said, his voice almost soothing before pointed the gun at the rope on the floor. “Live by the sword, die by the sword.”

He fired the gun at the rope, making it snap in half and the man’s shouting ceased immediately as he plummeted to his death. For a moment no one said anything, a silence falling upon the rooftop while you stared at the first rays of the rising sun before you hid your yawn behind your palm, then lowered your hand and glanced up at Bucky.

“Well then,” you said, crossing your arms. “I don’t suppose you brought coffee?”

Chapter 4

[sixx-sixx-sixx]

THE TRADER’S DAUGHTER — cooper “the ghoul” howard x female!oc

EDIT; FOLLOW @bonafideyapper FOR FUTURE PARTS

warnings(?): dbf!cooper, female!oc, oc is described as brown eyed (but feel free to picture whatever you want), proofread to the best of my ability (correcting capitalization is not my priority on my phone, this is hard enough to format as is), this series will have smut at some point but let me work up to writing that (meaning, let me smoke this joint and see where the wind takes me), there’s allusion to smut in this towards the end but it’s nothing wild

(this is part one of some) - part 2

Daisy hadn’t seen Cooper for a very, very long time. She’d never forgotten the charismatic cowboy that told her stories of the old world and of his encounters with creatures in the wasteland. The ghoul that would bring her little trinkets from his travels, gifting her a pearl necklace for her 10th birthday. A single pearl on a dainty silver chain that she would wear every day until it wore out. She was 13 when that happened, and was utterly devastated. Thankfully, she had charmed a local boy for a new chain, sneaking behind her dad’s back to go on a few dates with the kid. She’s continue to flirt with men and make empty promises to them to replace the chain each time it broke.

Cooper had gotten himself into some thick shit, spending a good time locked up by some raiders and other bullshit that got him sidetracked. On the other side of the goddamn wasteland, on the fucking east coast. How did he even get to the fucking east coast? By the time he made it back to the trading post, over a decade had passed, and it showed in the size of the once-familiar settlement. More gambling, more fighting in the streets, whole lotta bad shit that he didn’t have time to get involved with. He made his way through the town, his gaze trained on the old trading post at the center of town. He took careful notice of how men sneered at him as he passed by them, mumbling some racist bullshit about his ghoulishness.

Fuck them, he thought as he stepped up to the door of the trading post. He opened the door to hear the old bell jingle to alert his presence, watching as a young woman walked out from the back room with a routine “Welcome to Jo’s Shack, what can I get you?” leaving her pretty pink lips.

Daisy was almost in shock, seeing the ghoul standing in her doorway. She had assumed the worst over the years, as his visits had become less and less until they were not at all. She figured he was dead, shriveled up and baking in the sun. Or worse, she worried he had gone feral, which was always going to be inevitable in his case. Either way, she would keep extra chems stocked for the day he returned.

Cooper strolled towards the counter and looked at the girl, recognizing those big brown eyes from a mile away. “Hey, little flower. Your daddy around?” He asked her, his eyes flickering down to look at the pearl around her neck. Huh, he didn’t know she’d have kept it all those years. Pretty things were hard to keep around these parts.

Daisy’s face broke out into a grin and she gave him a little nod, leaning forward to get a good look at him. “Sure is, I’ll go get him for you. he’s not gonna believe this.” She had to fight to maintain her composure and keep her excitement at bay, going through the back room and up the stairs to the second floor of the shack to where her father was sleeping. In the ghoul’s absence, Daisy had grown to be a respectable trader, taking over the face of her father’s shop after growing up learning from the best. Although the population was tougher, she was just as tough, and nobody dared to fuck with Jo’s Shack or the woman running the place.

She stepped back out to the main room and leaned against the newly-reinforced counter, a bright smile on her face as she gazed up at him. He was just as handsome as she remembered, though she was never truly able to capture how his eyes lit up at the sight of her.

“Flower, you are just as pretty as a peach.” Cooper flashed her a wide grin, unashamedly flirting with the girl who he had essentially watched grow up. And whew, did she grow up good. He couldn’t help himself as he let his sunken eyes roam over the smooth, exposed skin of her chest, the tank top she wore under her unzipped jacket left little to the imagination.

Daisy thought his southern drawl was absolutely intoxicating as she slid a little box of chem vials across the counter to him, “Thank you, Coop. Don’t tell dad I gave these to you.” She winked and leaned back as her dad came out to greet his old friend, letting the two men greet each other like they hadn’t spent any time apart.

“Cooper Howard, you son of a bitch! I hope you brought me that Brahmin you still owe me.” Josiah grinned as he pulled the ghoul in for a hug, giving him shit over some long-forgotten wager on a card game. Coop patted him on the back with a shit-eating grin, “Yessir, why, yo’ momma’s waitin’ outside!”

Daisy watched Cooper closely as she stood beside her dad, taking in the way his skin had started to redden in places she didn’t remember being scarred over before. She had spent her whole adolescence infatuated with him, playing it off as a silly little girl crush on a big strong man (who had killed for her, but that’s a story for another day.) Her pulse quickened as she overhead her father invite the ghoul inside for a drink and to rest, watching him come around the counter to push through the curtains leading to the back.

It was fucked up, Cooper knew that. He knew it was fucked up to already be thinking about the woman behind him. Thinking about how sweet she sounded when she said his name, thinking about that little pearl necklace dangling in his face as she skillfully sat atop his—

He really needed that drink, and maybe a puff of his inhaler before he went feral at the thought of something as soft and pretty as his Daisy having anything to do with something as scarred and distorted as him.

a/n: okay yall what do we think about part one? I got to the app to post it and immediately rewrote the ending because I hated the original, so I hope this was good!

taglist: @savanahc @one-of-thewalkingdead @silverose365 @neverendingdumptser

[bedsyandco]

yours | Q. Hughes

note: I don't know what this is...it just happened. Quinn hughes x fem!reader, Quinn hughes x norris!sister. Takes place in summer '23. Reader is the same age as Jack.

summary: in which Josh's little sister goes to the Hughes Lake house with him, where two years ago Quinn and her had a one night stand.

cw: slight smut?🫣 allusions to sex, some touching...no actual sex

You sigh in relief when the car finally pulls into the driveway of the lakehouse. It wasn’t that long of a trip but it was extremely hot and you didn’t want to be stuffed in the car longer than you needed to. A small smile forms on your face as you set your eyes on the familiar house. You hadn’t been here the last two years but when Josh heard you didn’t have any plans this summer, he insisted you come along.

“I’m gonna unload our stuff, mind going inside and getting Quinn to come help me…” your brother says and you agree.

As soon as you walk into the house you’re met with various forms of greetings.

“Little Josh!” says Trevor

“The prodigal daughter returns,” from Jack

“Welcome home,” says Cole

“Look who it is, the little traitor herself,” Quinn says and that’s the only greeting you reply to.

“You’re still calling me that?”

“Are you still going to Ohio State?” he replies

“No actually, I just graduated, remember?” you ask knowing the answer. Quinn had sent you flowers as congratulations, so of course he remembers.

“That’s even worse, graduating from there. Actually I don’t know if I can allow you to stay here anymore,” he says and you hit him on the arm as he laughs. Quinn didn’t smile often, so each time he laughed at something you said or did, you got this proud little feeling in your gut. You earned that smile.

He pulls you into his chest, squeezing tight, and your eyes close as you inhale his familiar scent. Jack, Trevor and Cole all exchange awkward glances when a solid two minutes goes by and you guys are still hugging.

“Are we all getting hugs, or are those reserved for huggy bear only?” Trevor teases and you and Quinn break apart from your hug, his hands lingering on your waist as you move to pull the other guys into much shorter hugs.

“Where’s Luke?” you ask, noting his absence.

"We sent him, Dylan and Tyler to the store," Quinn says

"You trusted them to get everything you needed?" you ask amused

"It's better than sending those three," Quinn says referring to Jack, Trevor and Cole, who all look very offended and you laugh.

"Thanks for sending Quinn out to help me," Josh says dryly, walking in with 4 bags in his hands, and you wince.

"Sorry, I got distracted," you reply apologetically.

"You know where your room is, give me her bags and I'll take them to hers," Quinn says to Josh who hands him your bags.

You follow Quinn up the stairs, and linger awkwardly by the entrance of the room. Your gaze lands on the bed and instantly flashbacks appear of when you were last in this room.

-

"God, you feel so fucking good."

"Open your legs for me, baby. I wanna see you."

"Don't close your eyes. Look at me."

-

Your cheeks heat up and you swallow thickly before looking back at Quinn who just gives you a little smirk, knowing that you're also thinking about that night. The next morning you both agreed to forget it ever happened, but it was the best sex you've ever had and you'd be lying if you said you haven't thought about it constantly over the past 2 years.

"What?" You ask when you find him staring at you.

"I just didn't realise how much I missed you." he says

"I missed you too,"

"You wouldn't have had to miss me if you hadn't been avoiding me for two years," he says

"I haven't been avoiding you, I was just busy," you argue

"Either way, I'm glad you're here," he says and lays a kiss on your head before exiting the room.

You take a deep breath before laying on the bed and staring at the ceiling. You had hoped that your crush on your brother's best friend would have faded at least a little by now, but it's still the same, if not worse.

☆

A few days later you and the guys were out on the boat. Quinn was steering while the rest of the guys were wake surfing.

You could feel Quinn's eyes on you as you spoke to Tyler.

"I'm so glad you're here, I would've actually feared for my life if I was here alone with all these Michigan guys," you say and Tyler chuckles with a little wince.

"Yeah…I transferred to Michigan, remember?" he asks

"Oh my God…I totally forgot. Now I wish I had gone to Michigan instead,"you say bummed that everyone had gone there except you. Well and Jack, Trevor and Cole but it's not like you were trying to follow in their footsteps.

"I was so heartbroken that you graduated, I needed a change of scenery, you know?" Tyler says with a little grin and you shake your head. He was such a shameless flirt.

"Sure."

"I for one am glad you didn't go to Michigan," Tyler says

"Why's that?" you ask

"Cause red is definitely your colour," he says, dragging his gaze up and down your body that is clad in a red bikini.

"Tyler, you're up!" Quinn barks at him and walks over, handing you his hoodie.

"Thanks" you say, putting it on and he just nods.

☆

That night you were laying in bed, unable to sleep, when the bedroom door opened.

"Quinn? What are you doing here?" you ask

"I couldn't sleep, I kept thinking about…tell me you didn't sleep with him." Quinn says a little erratically and you stand up to make your way over to him, clad in only a T Shirt, his shirt, and panties.

"Sleep with who?" you ask confused

"Tyler" he grits out

"What? No, of course not," you say appalled that he would even think that, and he lets out a relieved sigh.

"Are you jealous?" you ask a little amused and Quinn glares at you.

"It's not funny," Quinn says and your eyes widen slightly.

"You are jealous. You have no reason to be jealous, Quinn. I'm not yours, and we're not together." you say and his jaw clenches.

He steps closer, lifting the hem of your shirt and putting one hand on your bare waist, pulling you closer to him. The other hand delves into your hair, tipping your head back as Quinn lowers his mouth to yours, lightly dragging his lips over yours in a whisper of a kiss before moving down laying open mouth kisses on your neck. You shudder when he sucks on a particular sensitive spot, knowing it will leave a mark.

"Quinn," you gasp

"No one else can make you feel like this and no one else touches you like I do. We may not be together but we both know you're mine." he says and moves the hand on your waist upwards to cup your breast, lightly running his thumb over your nipple, hardening it and you whimper.

"Please," you say and he smirks

"Please what?"

"Please touch me," you beg

"You have to say it first baby," he says and you whine knowing what he wants.

"I'm yours, all yours, only yours. Now please touch me," you say

Quinn takes off his clothes, leaving him in only his boxers before removing your shirt, picking you up and carrying you to the bed, gently laying you down.

"You have to be quiet, okay? As much as I'd love for Tyler to hear how good I make you feel, we don't want Josh to hear…right?" Quinn asks laying kisses from your breasts down to your stomach and you nod.

"Words baby," he says

"I'll be quiet," you say and he smiles

"Good girl," he says.

☆

The next morning you leave Quinn in your bed, and make your way downstairs to the kitchen, where you find Jack, Luke and Trevor sitting at the counter, whispering quietly.

"Morning," you say

"Morning," Jack replies

"Sleep well?" Luke asks with a little smile.

"Yeah, I slept great,"

"I bet you did," Trevor says with a smirk but before you can ask Quinn enters the room.

"How did you sleep Quinn?" Trevor asks

"I slept great, better than I have in a while," he says looking at you.

Trevor, Jack and Luke all exchange amused looks. Maybe you weren't as quiet as you thought last night

Before you can interrogate them, Josh enters the room, grumbling a "good morning" and making his way to the coffee machine.

"What the fuck is that?" Josh yells, striding over to you and moving your hair to the side, bending your neck in an awkward position, inspecting the hickey on your neck.

"Ow! Josh!" you exclaim swatting his hands away,

"Which one of you fuckers did it? Trevor?" Josh asks threateningly and Trevor holds his hands up.

"It wasn't me I swear. I mean I wish it was, but it wasn't." he says and both Quinn and Josh glare at him.

"Tyler!" Josh yells, running up the stairs to Tyler's room, making the same assumption Quinn almost did yesterday,

"Are you guys gonna come clean or are you gonna let him kill Tyler?" Luke asks

"Nah, we'll wait a little." Quinn says and you smile, knowing it's Quinn's way of making Tyler pay for flirting with you yesterday.

"Wanna go get breakfast?" You ask Quinn, not wanting to be here when Josh eventually connects the dots.

"Absolutely," Quinn says, grabbing the keys.

[hamiltonaf]

Daddy’s Princess | Kylian Mbappé

Pairing: Dad!Kylian Mbappé x Mom!Female Reader

Requested: Yes

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: Angst if you squint but mainly fluff

A/N: Hi my loves. Apologies I’ve been away for so long, I had so much going on but now I’m back. This has been in my drafts for so long, I think it came to a point where I was writing this half asleep. Not proofread, hope you babes enjoy.

Also, you’re more than welcome to send requests .xx

1 year. A year filled with ups and down, but ups for the most of it ever since giving birth to my bundle of joy, Sofia. I couldn’t believe how quickly a whole year has flew by and she’s already one.

The downside of this one year was the harsh break up between Kylian and I just a few weeks after Sophia was born. Post-partum depression was already bad, the break up just made it all worse. Everything was perfectly fine, or so I thought, Kylian was so excited for us to finally be parents and so was I. Little did I know that he wasn’t ready for the odd hours of waking up for feeding or hearing cry’s then having to wake up in a couple of hours for training, plus balancing our relationship, it was apparently all too much for him to handle so he felt the need to sacrifice our relationship to make it easier for him to focus on his career.

He was so used to being an uncle that he didn’t realise that parenting was a whole other ball game. I was willing to reason with him and do all night duties so he can sleep in but unfortunately that wasn’t good enough. Co-parenting isn’t easy.

It really sucks to co-parent because even though Kylian and I have broken up, I still have to see him every weekend when he comes over to spend time with her or he picks her up to take her out for the day. We’re civil, basically acting as if we’re friends, but who are we kidding ? Ever since Sofia was 4 months I’ve noticed Kylian being particularly nice to me, passing compliments, asking me to tag along with him when it’s his turn to spend the day with Sofia, interacting with my socials a lot more…something is cooking.

Unfortunately my pettiness is here to stay, so whenever he’s being ‘overly’ nice, I just brush it off like it’s nothing. It just bothers me that he didn’t try hard enough and think about what I was going through. It was hard when I eventually had to go to work, I was so attached to Sofia that I didn’t want to leave her but I didn’t have much of a choice. The last thing I need to hear whilst I’m depressed is that I wanted to have Kylian’s baby just to get money. Absolute nonsense.

The interesting thing is that even though Kylian isn’t with us everyday of the week 24/7, once Sofia is with her dad she doesn’t want to leave him. She’s so attached to him, funnily enough that she doesn’t even bother crying for me when I’m around.

So since she’s daddy’s little princess, Kylian insisted that we had to have a big first birthday party for her at his place. I went along with it and we both settled on a Disney princess theme.

Kylian had outdone himself, the party was as big and fancy as one would throw when they turn 16. I invited a few people from my side, majority family and a few friends.

Sophia was looking absolutely adorable in a pink puffy dress with a gold crown to top it off. I held Sophia on my hip as I greeted the guests, it’s as if Sophia has a sixth sense that she spotted Kylian approaching us from behind. She immediately started jumping and squealing, eagerly waiting for her dad to carry her. “Is that Princess Sophia ?” He said in shock. I smiled at their interaction as she nodded her head and got shy.

“Come here princess” he held his arms out for her which she happily jumped into his embrace. “My baby looks so cute. Who picked out your dress ?” He pecked her cheek. “Mama” she said as she pointed at me. My heart melted. “Who dresses you better princess ?” I wiggled my brows at her. “Mama” she admitted shyly. “You made daddy sad” he pouted as he faked a cry. Sophia falling for it, she cupped his face and kissed his nose. Catching us both off guard, Kylian and I burst out laughing. “Bubs you’re too cute” I said as I cupped her cheeks with one hand and kissed her cheek. “Doesn’t mama look so beautiful” he said as he looked at Sophia. I suddenly froze. Was not expecting that.

“That’s because mama is a princess” she smiled. “Awww my little pumpkin pie, give mama a kiss” I leaned in and pouted at her, which she gave me a kiss. “Does dad get a kiss from mama too ?” He playfully asked. I gave him a side-eye. Just then our interaction was disrupted when someone hugged be from behind, catching me by surprise. “Darling” a familiar voice said. I turned around and was met by my work friend, Nate. “Oh my god ! Nate ! I’m so glad you could make it” I said as I pulled him in for a hug. Nate is a good friend of mine from work. I believe the crucial thing to mention here is that Nate has a girlfriend, whom which I’m very good friends with as well, unfortunately she couldn’t make it since she was away on a work trip… life of a model.

Kylian hasn’t met him or heard of him up until now. “Nate, I’d like you to meet Kylian, Sophia’s dad and my little princess, Sophia !” I introduced them. “Pleasure to meet you” they shook hands but Kylian didn’t look too pleased. “And look at this girl, beautiful like her mum” he cooed at Sophia. “So I’ve been told” I said proudly. Sophia got shy and cuddled up closer to Kylian. “Anyway let me not take up too much of your time. I’ll meet with the others in the mean time” Nate said with a soft smile and excused himself. It was so obvious that the energy changed in the air, well for me at least.

“I can’t believe you did that” Kylian said. “Excuse me ? Did what ?” I raised a brow in confusion. “Do you really think this is the time and place to bring a lover of yours ? That too to introduce our daughter to ?” He lowered his voice just so I could hear him. “What the…are you okay ? If you don’t know what’s going on, then don’t give me your 2 cents !” I said back. “I know exactly what’s going on. I’m not stupid. Keep him away from Sophia.”

“I- you know what… believe what you want” I rolled my eyes at him. “Let’s go bub” I said as I held my arms out for her. She happily obliged to jump into my arms as we walked away. I can’t believe he got so jealous.

I ended up getting caught up in a conversation with my mum and Fayza, mainly because I had their granddaughter in my arms. I was baffled mid conversation when the topic of discussion was about having another child. Did Kylian not tell them about our break up or are they assuming we’re back together. I didn’t even bother arguing with them to avoid any further drama.

Kylian took me by surprise when he took the initiative to be the MC. Everyone had dropped their conversations to go get seated, while I had to go stand beside Kylian since I had Sophia with me. “Hello everyone and welcome to my baby’s first birthday !” Kylian announced as everyone erupted into cheers, Sophia had joined everyone as she clapped along, making us giggle and look at her in awe.

“This party would not have been possible without you all so thank you to every one of you for coming” he paused as everyone started clapping. He then glanced at me for a brief second before placing a hand on my back and pulling me to stand closer to him. “This party would also not be possible without my (Y/N), who has given me the greatest blessing of being a father. I will forever be thankful for all that you did and continue to do. Thank you for also shaping me into being a better version of myself. Lastly, thank you for helping me out and telling me what Sophia needs when she’s crying” everyone had burst into laughter at his last line.

“So a round of applause for (Y/N) !” He yelled as everyone followed by cheering. He then turned to look at me as he pulled me in for a hug. My heart had completed melted at his speech. More especially when he referred to me as my (Y/N). He released from our hug and kissed my cheek. It’s as if we forgot that we had Sophia in between us, it was only until she said “I love you mama” and kissed my other cheek that I snapped back into reality. “I love you more bubba” I smiled and kissed her cheek.

We then sang for her and cut her cake before everyone was free to mingle and eat. Sophia was actually starting to get crabby I guess with all the attention she was itching to play with the other kids so I accompanied her on the jumping castle. Low-key reliving my childhood through Sophia.

Nate then caught me by surprise when he joined us on the jumping castle, we were laughing more than talking. I guess our laugh was that loud that it caught Kylian’s attention. “Dada jump !” Sophia squealed as soon as she saw Kylian make his way towards us.

She quickly lost interest in jumping in these few minutes that she sprinted into her dads arms. “Tired bubs ?” He asked her softly as she cradled her face into his neck. She shook her head. “Do you want your bottle ?” He asked. She nodded her head. He then gave me a glance as a sign of help. I quickly said goodbye to Nate to help Kylian out.

“Wanna come by mama ?” I cooed. She shook her head as if I was a stranger. I gasped in shock. “You just broke mama’s heart” I faked a cry. Sophia actually started giggling. As we were walking into the house, both our mums spotted us walking together. “Aww where are you taking our baby ?” Fayza cooed. “She’s hungry, (Y/N/N) and I will take care of her” Kylian said. Both of our mums shared a look before moving out of our way.

Once we were inside, it was total peace and silence. Just the three of us, with of course the party happening being a soft background noise. Kylian sat her on the kitchen counter top and was about to make her bottle but I stopped him. “Watch her..I’ll do it” I said with a soft smile. He then kept her occupied by making small talk with her and played a game.

It didn’t take me long to make her bottle. After testing to see if the temperature was fine, I shook the bottle in front of her to see her reaction. “Who do you want to feed you ?” I playfully asked. “Mama !” She squealed. “Now you’re leaving dada for mama ?” Kylian acted offended and faked a cry. In the cutest way possible, she covered her eyes with her tiny hands and the cutest smile on her face. I cradled her in my arms and walked over to the couch to sit down. She held her own bottle and got distracted when Kylian started making faces at her. “Oii stop it” I joked. He then sat down beside me. “Is it a good time to talk now ?” He asked curiously. “Depends on what the topic is” I said as I glanced over.

“It’s about us” he hesitantly answered. I remained silent for a while before speaking up, “Not the perfect timing but I can’t run away from this so you might as well just be frank” I shrugged. “I feel terrible ever since I left you and Soph. It was wrong of me to let you take care of her on your own when you needed me the most. Spending time with the both of you in these last few months have shown what I was missing out on this whole time. I want to be with you every step of the way to take care and watch our little princess grow” he said. I was left speechless. “I know it’s a lot right now, but I obviously wouldn’t have dropped this on you if our feelings weren’t mutual” he smiled softly. “How do you know our feelings are mutual ?” I raised a brow.

“I notice the little things, when you get flustered after I compliment you. Especially earlier when I asked for a kiss until that idiot ruined our moment” he said annoyed. “Wait wait… is this about Nate ?” I furrowed my brows. “No !” He scoffed. “Oh my god. It is ! You’re jealous of him aren’t you ?” I started giggling. “What ? Me.. jealous ? No” he laughed. “Ky, I just know when you’re lying” I shook my head trying to fight back a smile. Sophia finished her bottle and handed it over to me. I then held her upright against my chest to rub her back. “Okay fine. I was triggered to do this sooner. I’ll forever hate myself if I didn’t try to make things right with you. I don’t want to lose my girls. I’ve always loved you and never stopped loving you”

I was taken aback by everything he said. “Why didn’t you come back then ?” I asked. “Because I figured you wouldn’t want me back so soon after I what I did. You didn’t deserve that and I thought I didn’t deserve you, but I couldn’t let you go.. after all I’m still in love with you. So I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me and allow me to have a second chance” he said hopeful. I sighed. “You’re making this harder because I literally see Sophia’s face when you look like that” he broke into a smile. Speaking of Sophia, she fell off to sleep. Sleeping beauty. “You’re lucky you’re her dad” I smiled.

“So you forgive me ?” He broke into a smile. I nodded my head. He was about to make noise until I shushed him and pointed at Sophia. “Oh sorry” he said in a hushed tone. He then pecked Sophia’s forehead then looked at me. “What ?” I asked confused. “You didn’t answer my question from earlier” he grinned. “Which was ?” I raised a brow. “Can daddy get a kiss too ?” He wiggled his brows. “I’m feeling petty so not right now” I grinned. “Ahh chérie just one” he pouted. “Later Kyky” I said as I stood up. He then took Sophia from my arms and carried her. “I think I’ve been tortured enough by how you look every time I see you” he pouted. “Nice try” I then surprised him by pecking his lips. “That was too short” he pouted.

[randomprose]

now posted on AO3!

Mo Guan Shan is sitting on the kitchen island eating a sandwich when He Cheng walks in. 

He looks up from scrolling through his phone, looking a little startled. 

“Mo Guan Shan,” He Cheng acknowledges with a nod before heading to the fridge. 

“Uh. Hey, boss."

“Where’s He Tian?"

“Still sleepin’,” he shrugs. “Got bored an’ hungry waitin’ for him to wake up.”

He Cheng just hums. His brother has always been one to sleep in late even as a child. 

“Have you eaten?” Mo Guan Shan asks, a hand scratching the back of his neck. He looks awkward standing in He Cheng’s kitchen — rarely used, all stainless steel, and state of the art — yet strangely comfortable behind the counter near the stoves. At least before He Cheng came in. This is the most relaxed He Cheng has ever seen him in his house over the years.

He mulls the question over, probably blurted out on impulse. He’s really only here to get a bottle of water. 

“I've had coffee”, was what he said after awhile. He can’t quite remember what time that was. Some time between the early hours of a new day and before the crack of dawn.  

Mo Guan Shan frowns, brows knitted together. The kid is very expressive, He Cheng observes. Easy to draw reaction from. He can see why He Tian loses his shit pushing this kid’s buttons.

“That’s not exactly food.”

“I don’t eat breakfast.” Never had the stomach for it. Just never made sense for him to eat so early in the morning.

“Er. It’s past noon, boss,” Mo Guan Shan somehow feels the need to remind him. He Cheng just stares at him. “Technically it’s lunchtime bordering on…mid-afternoon snack?”

It dawns on He Cheng that, given his answer, this kid wants him to eat something. Mo Guan Shan either has certain manners drilled into him — He Cheng caught him eating when he entered the kitchen so he felt the need to offer him something as well — or he has an inane need to take care of people. Just like He Tian. 

He Cheng supposes that’s a good thing, if a bit of a soft touch — something that has no room in the world he and He Tian live in but is nonetheless welcomed and desired by He Cheng for his brother. He Tian could’ve done so much worse. At least He Cheng knows his brother is eating and taken care of. He swears that kid never knows how to look after himself. 

“If you insist,” He Cheng allows and sits on a stool at the kitchen counter. 

Mo Guan Shan visibly relaxes. Like he’s relieved He Cheng agreed he could cook for him. If he hadn’t ran a thorough background on him he’d think he’s going to try and poison him. Except the kid is terrible at hiding his expressions and controlling his body language and He Cheng has known him since he was in middle school.

“Alright. So, uh, what are you hungry for?”

He Cheng isn’t really hungry for anything, but he does acknowledge that he hasn’t eaten since yesterday and this will only be his first meal of the day. Still, he doesn’t think he can stomach a full meal right now. 

“Just eggs will do.”

“Okay,” Mo Guan Shan nods. “How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled,” is all he says. No mention of how he likes it cooked, no preference for seasoning, no specifications of any kind. He Cheng doesn’t really care as long as it's edible and won’t upset his stomach. 

Mo Guan Shan gets to work in silence. He Cheng watches him move and is not at all surprised that he knows his way around, knows where everything is. Qiu mentioned the kid is good in the kitchen, more than a decent cook, and is not above admitting that he enjoys his food despite the disaster that occured the one and only time the kids came over his place and had Mo Guan Shan made them dinner. He Cheng knows this, too. He knows that the kid is apprenticing in a family restaurant and is saving up to go to culinary school. He’s had to drop by He Tian’s place occasionally and was pleasantly surprised that his brother isn’t just subsisting on take-outs if at all.  

But it’s just eggs and He Cheng isn’t really expecting anything. Eggs are just eggs after all.

After just about twenty minutes, Mo Guan Shan puts down a plate of the fluffiest looking scrambled eggs He Cheng has ever been served garnished with spring onions and what seem to be crushed potato chips. He serves it with a glass of orange juice on the side and the whole ensemble looks like it’s been lifted out of a lifestyle cooking magazine. 

He Cheng takes a forkful and lets out a low pleased sound at the back of his throat.

"Good?" Mo Guan Shan asks, a corner of his lips quirked up in quiet satisfaction the way a cook is when they know someone enjoys their food.

"It is." He Cheng maintains that eggs are still just eggs but this really is good. Qiu’s not exaggerating then. 

The eggs are light and cooked just right, lightly seasoned with the melted cheese adding another layer of flavor, and the potato chips give it a good crunch. He’s never even thought of potato chips as anything other than junk food.

"Yeah. Figured you and Tian like your scrambled eggs the same." Mo Guan Shan comments as he sits back down to finish his sandwich. "First time I made it he looked so pissed even though he couldn't stop shovelling eggs in his mouth. Thought he might've hated it and was just eating it to, I don’t know, not hurt my feelings or some shit, but then I heard him curse you under his breath and ask for seconds."

A thought that comes to He Cheng: He Tian eats breakfast and likes his eggs scrambled just like him.

“He hates it, but he's really alike you in a lot of ways, you know.”

Well, of course he is, He Cheng agrees. He practically raised that kid. He Tian’s bound to pick up some of He Cheng’s mannerisms and preferences for certain things whether he likes it or not.

“Coffee? Brewed a new batch.”

“Please.”

“Cream and sugar?”

“Just black, thanks.”

“You sure?" Mo Guan Shan asks like he doesn't believe him. 

“I like it as it is.” 

“Huh,” Mo Guan Shan sounds out before shrugging and pouring out two mugs.

This prompts He Cheng to ask, "Does Tian-di not take his coffee black then?"

It occurs to him that he doesn’t know his brother at all. Maybe there was a time that he did, when He Tian was small and only had him, but He Cheng doesn’t claim that he knows his brother beyond his childhood days. While He Tian seems to come to him more and more these days, their relationship is still rather estranged and not at all conventional, however that may be. 

All He Cheng knows of He Tian is that his brother is of the good sort and that’s enough for him. 

He Tian cares for his friends and cares for Mo Guan Shan in ways He Cheng will probably never understand. He’s better than He Cheng in a lot of ways that matter, more human perhaps, which suits him just fine. He never wanted He Tian to be someone their family has morphed and twisted to suit their needs and use as see fit. He never wanted He Tian to be like him. 

And so He Cheng finds himself indulging in wanting to know the little things that make up his brother. Like how he likes his eggs and how he drinks his coffee.

“He does but I know he hates it. Everytime he drinks it he makes a face like it's poison.” Mo Guan Shan shrugs as he sits down across from him. He hands He Cheng one of the mugs and nurses one himself. “I don't know why he insists on drinking it this way.” 

He Cheng just hums, breathing in the aroma of the coffee, not unaware of the way Mo Guan Shan is pointedly looking at him.

“Tian-di probably just can’t be bothered to have it otherwise.”

“Nah. He probably just thinks it makes him all mature and tough. As if cream and sugar makes you weak or some shit.”

Just before they both move to take a sip from their mugs, He Cheng mutters “Idiot” under his breath at the same time Mo Guan Shan scoffs it. They stop and couldn’t help to smirk at their consensus.

It’s good to know someone else can see through his brother’s bullshit.

He Cheng notes that Mo Guan Shan takes his coffee black. Mo Guan Shan just shrugs when he points this out. 

“I like the bitter taste. It’s what keeps you awake,” he says before taking another sip. “And you taste the flavor of the beans better without the cover up of milk or sweetener.”

A fair assessment. He Cheng will drink to that.

For a while, they sat in silence as they finish their meals. Then Mo Guan Shan’s phone lights up. He drains the last of his coffee as he swipes at the screen. It seems a message has popped up because he picks it up and types something back. He Cheng surmises it’s probably He Tian, just woken up, asking where Mo Guan Shan is. 

"Refill?" Mo Guan Shan offers, walking back to where the coffee pot is.

"No, thank you.”

Mo Guan Shan refills his cup and adds three spoons of cream and two sugar cubes. He Tian enters the kitchen with a jaw cracking yawn just as Mo Guan Shan is back on his seat and finished stirring. His brother takes the seat beside the redhead across from him and He Cheing watches the latter push the mug at He Tian’s direction. The cup is only three-quarts full. 

“I’m done. Finish this.”

“You always do this. Why bother pouring a full cup if you’re not gonna drink even half of it?” He Tian quips but takes the mug anyway. 

He Cheng notes his brother doesn’t make a face after the first sip. He Tian even licks at his upper lip and a corner of his mouth is quirked up. 

“What’s for breakfast?”

“It’s way past noon.”

“It’s my first meal of the day. What’s for breakfast?”

“Scrambled eggs,” He Cheng answers before Mo Guan Shan could and delights at the face his brother makes when he sees what’s on his plate and realizes who made it.

‘What the…’ He Tian mouths as he narrows his eyes at what remains of He Cheng’s meal.

“You know what, I actually don’t want scrambled eggs. I want—”

“Tough shit. I’m already making them and you’re gonna eat it when it’s done.”

He Tian makes a low whining displeased sound but nonetheless doesn’t protest. “Throw in some bacon.”

“Alright.”

He Tian doesn’t offer to help beyond getting the pack of bacon from the fridge, handing it to Mo Guan Shan before returning to his seat. Like it’s routine. Like there’s an unspoken agreement that Mo Guan Shan cooks and He Tian stays out of his way. And He Cheng gathers he’s probably been shooed away and out of the kitchen when the other is at work. He Cheng can’t imagine his brother even knows how to operate a stove — just another thing they have in common by virtue of being born to money. 

He Tian's attention is solely on Mo Guan Shan. His back is to He Cheng, leaning against the counter as he talks to the redhead. He asks if he slept well, what he wants to do today, if there’s somewhere he wants to go to, if he wants anything particular for dinner later. Mo Guan Shan makes a comment that makes He Tian laugh but goes over He Cheng's head and he figures it must be an inside joke between them. 

There’s a kind of ease to it, the flow of their banter, the way they move around each other. He Tian certainly seems comfortable and at ease, the line of his back relaxed and lacking the usual tenseness of someone always ready to go on either the offense or defense. 

Mo Guan Shan mirrors the same ease as he puts down a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast for He Tian, who turns his head to plant a kiss on his cheek in thanks. 

The whole thing makes He Cheng feel like a fucking interloper in his own goddamn kitchen. 

He Cheng looks at his brother with his own plate of scrambled eggs and Mo Guan Shan's mug of coffee, the one with cream and sugar he said he couldn't finish so He Tian would take it, and thinks it's the best life he could have ever hoped for him. 

“Wash the dishes when you're done,” Mo Guan Shan says as he scrolls through his phone.

He Tian looks at the sink and makes a face at the pan and other things Mo Guan Shan used to cook.

“Man, do I have to? This isn’t even my house. And there are maids for a reason.”

“Tch. Spoiled brat.” Mo Guan Shan lightly pinches a chewing He Tian’s cheek, bulging with food. “Exactly. This isn’t your house. You use them, you clean them.”

“Cheng ate, too,” he nods to where He Cheng is finishing up the last of his meal. “Why don’t you make him do his dishes?” he says with a smirk, thinking he’s on to something.

“He’s letting the four of us stay for the summer.” Mo Guan Shan takes He Cheng’s plate and the empty glass of juice when he sees he’s done and soaks them in the sink. “Here. In this house that he owns. In an island that is his. For free.” He sends He Tian a look that says, ‘need I say more?’.

“What are you talking about? I’m paying for our stay here you know.”

“Oh, really? With what? Sure as hell haven’t seen you so much as touch your wallet since we got on the boat.”

“My sanity.”

Mo Guan Shan’s hand flexes and for a moment, He Cheng thinks his brother is gonna be hit over the head with the frying pan. 

“Just,” the word is sighed through gritted teeth, “do the damn dishes. It’s not that hard.”

“Why don’t you do them then?”

“I already cooked, asshole. I ain't washin’ the dishes. 'sides, you're the last to finish eatin’ so you get to clean up. Them’s the rules.”

“Fine, but I'm only gonna wash mine,” He Tian declares, viciously biting on a chunk of toast.

“It's one plate and a mug, Tian,” Mo Guan Shan sighs sounding like he’s had this exact conversation a thousand times. “Don't be a little bitch and wash them all. Don't waste soap.”

“Baby, look around. We can afford the waste.”

Mo Guan Shan levels him a look which He Tian stares right back as he continues to chew. It goes on for maybe a minute or two. A standoff with just their eyes, willing the other to back down first. 

He Cheng doesn’t quite know what’s going on between the stare down and the silence, but He Tian is the first to look away with a groan. The one to concede first, apparently.

“Uuughhh! Fine! Fuck it! Fine! I'll do the damn dishes.”

“Yeah, as you should,” Mo Guan Shan quips looking satisfied with his victory. He Cheng marvels at how easy it is for him when getting He Tian to do anything, even if it's for his own good, has always been like pulling teeth. “I’m gonna go call my mom. There's more coffee in the pot. Creamer ran out, but there's milk in the fridge.”

“You know I only take my coffee black.”

Mo Guan Shan watches with a flat expression as He Tian sips ‘his’ coffee with cream and sugar. He catches He Cheng's eyes and shoots him a look that says, ‘are you seeing this shit?’ which He Tian doesn’t catch.

“Uh-huh, sure.” He doesn’t bother contesting. “There’s more toast in the bread box.”

“Buttered?”

“Butter it yourself, idiot,” Mo Guan Shan shoots back making a face at him. 

“Can’t even do that simple thing for me, babe? Really starting to doubt this relationship right now.”

“Good. You shouldn’t get too complacent anyway, dick head.” He hops out of his seat and swats at He Tian’s grabby hands. “Do the damn dishes or I swear to god you won’t have anything to doubt anymore.” 

He Cheng watches the exchange and feels like he’s in a sitcom. He thinks about how his initial plan to get a bottle of water has led to him being caught between his brother and his boyfriend play fighting, flirting, and the domesticity of it all. He thinks about asking Mo Guan Shan how he does that whole thing where he just stares at He Tian and makes him yield but figures it would only work if you're Mo Guan Shan. 

He remembers a time when He Tian lowered his pride. Impulsive, insolent, and desperate, he came crawling back to He Cheng and was even willing to go as far as becoming something he hates. All for the sake of some boy, some school friend, some little pet project that he picked up because he was bored that morphed into something else, something more.

Mo Guan Shan made He Tian care for another. He made He Tian care so much he was willing to make himself into a monster for Mo Guan Shan, but stopped him just in time from going the deep end and even made him more human. Hell, Mo Guan Shan made He Tian care about himself. And for all that, He Cheng is grateful.

"Thanks," he says as much and means more than just the best scrambled eggs he's had in a while, but Mo Guan Shan would never know it. "You really didn't have to." 

"Huh. Oh, uh, sure.” It catches Mo Guan Shan off-guard, halting him from leaving the kitchen. He looks a little sheepish as he says, “It's nothing, really. It's just…it’s just eggs."

He Cheng just hums and nods at him once in dismissal. 

“Why are you so mean to me?” He Tian shouts after Mo Guan Shan, who’s already rounded the corner and only shouts back, “Dishes!”

He Tian scowls but there’s no real heat in it. He even asks He Cheng if he wants the rest of the coffee, which he declines, when he stood up to get more toast before tucking back into his eggs.

He Cheng sees that He Tian is happy, thinks Mo Guan Shan brings out all the best in him, and hopes to all the gods he doesn't believe in that his brother don't ever fuck this one up. 

He doesn’t realize he’s staring until He Tian asks, “What?” around a mouthful of toast. 

“Nothing,” He Cheng says as he finishes his coffee, and as he stands up he says, “Make sure you bring him along everytime you plan to come over. Otherwise, don’t come at all.” And just to spite him, he slides his empty mug closer to He Tian. “And make sure you do the damn dishes.”

He gets the desired effect. The glare his brother sent him is acrid and his next words make He Cheng want to laugh.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do.”

“I didn’t. Mo Guan Shan did.”

“Whatever. Shut the fuck up.”

He Cheng just smirks and doesn’t hit him for his impertinence if only because He Tian grumbling, “I was gonna do them anyway” has already made his day.

Later, as He Cheng sits on his desk looking over his schedule, he sees that he has an appointment with their legal team. A thought strikes him and he scribbles a curt note at the margins and tells his secretary to summon the family lawyers too.

He might as well update the family registry.

--

edit: now posted on AO3! glad you guys like this piece. please leave kudos and comments there as well. thank you! :)