#i’m so scared and i feel so alone and i can’t stop crying or breathe

[chaosnojutsu]

.

[amandabbbbb]

summary: after the scene where ward drops rafe at barry’s and tells him to not come home but barry’s sister pogue!reader tries to comfort him even though rafe is soo mean to her like woah but it’s a happy ending

tw: mention of drugs, idk rafe cries a lot, parental issues, rafe calls reader kid and bitch once

word count: 762

“don’t come home, son,” ward says, his voice cold and final, as he walks away from his only son.

“where do you want me to go?”

“dad! dad!” rafe’s desperate calls echo into the night, but ward doesn’t look back, leaving rafe alone in the darkness in front of barry’s and your house.

“hey, barry, open the fuckin door! i know you got the coke, dude, come on. please just open up!” he’s begging on the verge of tears. “barry, if you don’t open this god damn door, i’ll fucking smash it down myself. i need coke, man!”

you slowly open the door, and before he even sees you, rafe shoves his way inside, causing you to stumble back slightly. he collapses onto the couch, his movements frantic and erratic. “barry, what took you so long? christ, give me your best coke. i need that shit now, dude” he demands, his voice thick with barely-contained emotion. when he finally looks up and sees you instead of barry, he quickly swipes at the tears streaming down his face, trying to hide his vulnerability.

“oh, hi, rafe! sorry, i had my headphones on. wanna listen? oh my god, are you crying?” you ask, your voice laced with genuine concern.

“no, jesus fuck, y/n, where’s your brother?”

“oh, um, i think he’s down by the shipyards doing a deal. sorry, rafey,” you say, offering a gentle smile.

rafe pulls himself up quickly, furiously searching for the drugs he so desperately craves. “where’s his coke? i know you know where he keeps it. go find it. don’t just stand there helplessly. you’re so goddamn stupid! fuck!”

“why are you being mean to me? you’re never mean to me… i don’t know where barry keeps the coke, rafe.”

he yells at the top of his lungs, “it’s like you have no fuckin brain. you’re just a useless dumb blonde.” (sorry i’m blonde)

the harsh words cut through you, and you can’t bear his anger. you turn and flee to your room, tears pricking your waterline, blurring your vision as you go.

your whole teenage years, you knew rafe as your older brother’s richest client, who he secretly would rip off. but as the years went by, he started buying barry’s more hardcore drugs, not just weed. you got to know rafe more as barry’s regular client. he would constantly stick around, always flirting with you and bringing you gifts when barry wasn’t looking.

“y/n, don’t shut me out. don’t be a bitch, come on, open the door. i need the coke. you don’t understand, help me here, okay,” he pleads.

you’re scared. you’ve never seen him like this; he’s always treated you like a princess. you yell as he bangs at your thin bedroom door, pushing the wood so hard it starts to crack. “go home, rafe!” your voice shaky and filled with fear.

the banging stops suddenly, your words echoing in the sudden silence. the quiet stretches on, each second feeling like an eternity. cautiously, you peek out of your bedroom door thinking maybe he finally listened to your advice. “rafe, you there?” you call out.

he’s sitting on your couch, tears running down his face, hyperventilating. “i can’t go home. i’m a liar, an addict, a thief, and i can’t be trusted, so my dad said he can’t have me in his house. i have nowhere to go.”

you slowly approach the couch where rafe sits, his face hidden in his hands. his body is shaking, and the room is filled with the sound of his ragged breaths. “rafe…” you say softly, your voice trembling as you try to offer some comfort. “you, um, can stay here tonight.”

he looks up at you, his eyes red and desperate, filled with a depth of pain you’ve never seen in him before. “i don’t deserve you, kid. fuck, i’m so sorry. i never wanted you to see me like this. i thought i had everything under control, but now you probably hate me or some shit…”

you sit beside him, offering a soft, reassuring smile. you put your hand in his. “it’s okay rafey. i could never hate you. we all have moments when shit falls apart. it doesn’t change how i see you. you’re tired. i’ll set up the couch for you.”

rafe’s eyes search yours, a flicker of regret softening his expression. “i didn’t mean to take it out on you,” he says, his voice low and raw. “i just… i don’t want to be alone. y’know, on the couch. not tonight.” the words hang in the air, heavy with his unspoken need to hold you tonight.

[loveinhawkins]

It’s Dustin who saves Eddie.

He doesn’t try and carry him back to the trailer, nothing like that—if he could manage that on determination alone, then he would, but his throbbing leg has other ideas.

So he stays by Eddie’s side. Throws off his hoodie and starts to rip any piece of his clothing that he can, because he’s come a long way from when he once stuck bandaids on Steve’s beaten up face.

“What… what are you doing?” Eddie says in between gasping breaths.

Dustin would laugh if he wasn’t so scared. “Buying more time,” he echoes. Then he looks Eddie right in the eye and adds, voice wavering, “I’m really fucking sorry in advance.”

He takes a deep breath and presses the material to Eddie’s chest with force.

Eddie screams.

Dustin grits his teeth. Keeps going.

He creates makeshift tourniquets for Eddie’s arms, keeps tearing at his shirt, then takes it off entirely to use as a larger bandage, ignoring the shock of cold against his skin; the only thought in his head is that he has to stop the bleeding.

Eddie’s hand finds his bare shoulder. Squeezes weakly. “Tha’s enough,” he slurs. “D-Dustin, stop.”

And Dustin only does what he says because it doesn’t look like any more blood is soaking through the material. He keeps pressure on the worst of the wounds, tries to keep his elbows locked, as if that will stop his relentless shivering.

And when he looks up, he sees a tear fall from Eddie’s eye, down his temple, into his hair—and Dustin somehow knows that it’s not from pain alone, that Eddie’s crying just because he can see how cold he is.

“M’sorry,” Eddie whispers. “Never meant for… for you to—”

“Shut up,” Dustin says, then hastily amends, “Actually, don’t shut up, just—just stay awake. They’ll be back soon, okay, Steve and Robin and Nancy, and they’ll—”

“Steve,” Eddie agrees. His voice goes up and down, like a little song: “Steve, Steve, Steve.”

“Yeah, he’ll—hey, Eddie, eyes open.”

“Mm-hmm,” Eddie says faintly. “Eyes… oh, forgot to… you were right, H-Henderson, he’s… a badass. S’got pretty eyes, too, like wow. Pretty, pretty…”

And…

Well. That’s a development.

“You can tell me all about Steve’s pretty eyes if you keep yours open.”

And Eddie’s eyes do jolt open at that, like he’s received an electric shock. He groans in mortification.

“Jesus Christ. Didn’t mean to—fuck, feel like I’m drunk, man, I can’t… just kill me.”

Dustin thinks he probably would have found that request funny if Eddie wasn’t saying it through teeth flecked with blood.

Still, he does let out a strangled, hysterical giggle when he says, “I know how to keep you awake now.”

Eddie groans again. “Spare me the—”

“He sings in the shower, like, full blown Elvis impression, all that jazz. And he denies having lucky socks, but he wears the same pair whenever Lucas has a basketball game.”

“Huh?” Eddie says eloquently.

“Pay attention, dude, you need to know what you’re getting into! Oh, he said when he went to see The Fox and the Hound, he cried.”

Eddie chuckles. “That’s… oh, that’s sweet.” He smiles, eyes bright, and Dustin suddenly knows that they’re gonna be okay. “Keep going?”

Dustin does. He talks about how Steve always says, “Two for joy,” even when he sees a singular magpie, because he reasons that the second one is always just hiding. How he eats ice-cream too fast, does a comical hop in place when he inevitably gets brain freeze. That whenever he happens to pick up Dustin from school, he almost always has a Simon and Garfunkel tape playing, sings along to At the Zoo as he turns out of the parking lot.

Dustin doesn’t mention the Farrah Fawcett spray; a promise is a promise.

Eddie seems pretty damn well entertained with what he’s been given, anyway. He keeps smiling, lets out breathy chuckles that give Dustin hope: that he still has enough energy to laugh.

“Okay, okay, I’m awake,” he says, “I’m so awake, jus’… you just relax.”

And it’s only when Dustin stops talking that he realises his teeth have been chattering the whole time.

Eddie gives an unhappy sounding hum, and his hand comes up to clumsily rub at Dustin’s forearm.

“Your lips are blue.”

“I’m f-fine.”

A sudden desperate yell splits through the air; Dustin didn’t know that Steve could sound quite like that.

“Here!” Dustin shouts as much as he can.

He hears three people running; Steve gets there first.

Eddie’s eyes go wide. “Steve,” he says, and Dustin’s seen enough movies to think that this could be it, the big moment, or at the very least that Eddie’s about to give another wandering speech on Steve’s eyes.

But instead—

“Steve, Steve,” Eddie repeats, “Dustin’s cold.”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve says; he’s already taking off his jacket, shoving Dustin into it with this frantic mixture of urgency and care.

Dustin’s shivers get even more pronounced as the jacket’s zipped up, as the warmth from Steve’s body heat hits him.

“Think E-Eddie’s—b-bleeding stopped,” he says, accidentally biting on his tongue thanks to his chattering teeth.

Steve looks over Dustin’s handiwork, eyes shining. “Yeah, you did good,” he says, choked, rubs his hands down Dustin’s forearms more effectually than Eddie had. “You did so good.”

“You must’ve been wearing your socks tonight, Harrington,” Eddie says.

Steve stares at him. It’s only when he starts to laugh that Dustin realises he’s crying at the same time. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Shh, s’okay,” Eddie says. “I cried at th’movie, too, don’ tell anyone. S’not fair what… s’posed to be a happy endin’…”

Steve catches Dustin’s eye, says, deadpan, even with a tear-streaked face, “Doc, I think we’re losing him.”

Dustin whacks him on the arm, because it’s so stupid, it’s so Steve, and, God, they're really gonna be okay.

“Dustin’s th’best doctor,” Eddie chants, “best, best, best…”

“Yeah, he’s a goddamn superhero,” Steve says sincerely.

There’s a look Steve has on his face while he lifts Eddie up, a fleeting softness right before he goes back into planning mode, scanning the trailer park in case of any more threats; where Eddie’s fingers curl around Steve’s neck, and Steve smiles down at him, and…

Dustin would put a bet on Steve thinking Eddie has pretty eyes, too.

At least, he would if he could stand up.

When Steve clocks his leg, his jaw works a couple of times before he speaks. “Hey, Robin, Nance?” He raises his voice, looking to some point in the distance. “Could you—help Dustin up, I’ve—uh, kinda got my hands full.”

His tone is light, but his chin trembles just a bit, like he might break down at the thought that he can’t carry Dustin out of here, too.

“Okay, c’mon superhero,” Robin says, suddenly by Dustin’s side; she counts down, and then Dustin’s being carefully lifted up, an arm flung around Nancy, too.

“I’m okay,” Dustin feels the need to say. Robin and Nancy are out of breath, and he can’t help noticing the vivid red marks around their necks.

“Yeah, you will be,” Robin corrects.

“Is—is Eddie—?”

“Look, he’s right in front,” Nancy says. “Steve’s got him.” She lowers her voice and when she says, “You were really brave, you know,” Dustin has to swallow a lump in his throat: for a moment feels thirteen years old, her hand in his at the Snow Ball.

And she’s right; Eddie is right in front. Dustin can see him trailing a hand up and down Steve’s arm, slow and soothing, and he’s talking, just too far away to be heard.

For a few steps, Dustin thinks that Eddie must be spilling more of what he’s learned, regurgitating the anecdotes.

But then Robin and Nancy pull him a little closer. And he can read Eddie’s lips.

He’s okay, Eddie is saying, looking away from Steve’s face to find where Dustin is. He’s right behind us, sweetheart. He’s okay.

[dreamescapeswriting]

Cry Baby ~ JJK

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

GENRE: established relationships, cry baby reader, angst to comfort, jungkook being soft for her, apologising, begging jungkook,

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - September 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

The apartment felt as though it was stifling tonight, the air thick with frustration and you could barely feel like you could breathe as you stood there. You were standing by the kitchen counter, arms crossed tightly over your chest, watching as Jungkook paced back and forth across the living room. The two of you had started spatting with one another and it started as something small—a forgotten phone call.

He said he’d call, and he didn’t. But somehow, it had spiralled out of control, and now you’re both standing on opposite sides of the room, trying to make sense of the mess between you.

It wasn't like you were the couple to argue with each other all the time but this was something important to you. A simple phone call to let you know he was still alive after he went out on a dangerous fucking mission with his friends.

“It’s not just about the phone call, Jungkook!” you say, your voice shaking despite your best efforts to stay calm. Jungkook didn't scare you, hell, his bodyguards didn't scare you. But he worried you when he went out and never said anything, or came home late covered in blood.

“It’s about you not being here… even when you are here. I feel like I’m alone all the time. You’re always busy with work, or with the guys, or something else, and I just… I just miss you.” Your voice cracked a little as you admitted it out loud for the first time. You didn't want to come across as clingy or anything but you needed your feelings to be heard on this.

Jungkook stopped pacing, turning to look at you as he looked you up and down. There’s a flicker of frustration in his eyes, his jaw clenched as he struggles to find the right words.

“I’m doing the best I can, Y/N! I can’t just drop everything whenever you feel lonely, or need a cuddle.” The words cut through you like a hot knife through butter and it hurt but you try to hold yourself together. You didn't want to cry in front of him and give him another reason to be pissed off at you,

“I’m not asking you to drop everything. I’m asking you to see me. To make me feel like I matter to you.” Your eyes are stinging now, and you hate it. You hate that you’re on the verge of crying again because you know what’s coming. You cried a lot...A lot, a lot but you couldn't help it. You'd always been a big crier and you'd grown up being told never to hold them back.

“Why do you always have to cry about everything?” he says, his voice sharp, frustration clear in his tone.

“You’re such a crybaby, Y/N.” The words hit you like a slap to the face. You freeze, blinking back the tears that you desperately don’t want to let fall, but it’s too late. Your vision blurs as they spill over, and you quickly wipe them away, trying to keep your dignity intact. You could feel your throat forming that all too familiar lump inside of it before you whimpered a little and wiped your face.

You don’t say anything. You can’t, if you did you knew the tears would never stop so you took in a deep breath and shook your head, as if trying to shake the tears out of your system. Your chest felt tight, and all you wanted to do was get out of there. Before Jungkook can say anything more, you turn on your heel and head for the door,

“Y/N, wait—” you hear him call after you, but you don’t stop. You can’t. You keep walking, slamming the door behind you as you walk away from him. Your heart pounded inside of your chest as you walked away from Jungkook, ignoring the guard who banged on your car window to let him inside. There was no way you were going to let one of his men join you and report back to him on your every move.

The tears fall freely now, and you don’t even bother wiping them away. You just drove -away from the apartment, away from the hurt, away from Jungkook.

It had been hours since you left, and you’d found yourself at one of your favourite spots by the riverbank, sitting on a cold bench with your arms wrapped around yourself. It had been far too long since you'd had the chance to do something like this, always stopping yourself because of Jungkook claiming it was "dangerous" or you had a target on you now that you were dating him. But right now? You didn't care. The cold air and the calming aura were all you needed to make you feel better.

The night air is cool, and you shiver slightly, but you welcome the chill once you let relax your entire body and dry the tears from your cheeks.

You'd been ignoring all of Jungkook’s calls, eventually turning your phone off and leaving it in the car. You just… you needed space. You needed time to process what he said—what he called you.

A crybaby.

The word had been echoing in your mind, over and over again on the drive. You know you’re emotional, but that’s part of who you are, you thought Jungkook loved you for who you were. You had always felt things deeply, and it’s always been hard for you to hide that. And now, the person you love most in the world threw it back in your face like it was something to be ashamed of.

You were so lost in thought you hadn't even heard his car parking up before he approached you until he was standing in front of you, kneeling down on the grass to look up at you. His face is shadowed in the dim light, but you can still see the worry in his eyes.

“Y/N,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper. You glance at him briefly before looking away, not ready to face him yet. Your heart feels too heavy, too raw. You could already feel the tears burning again and your throat starting to lump up. He shifts closer to you, his voice cracking slightly as he speaks again.

“Please… look at me,” he begged, his voice cracking as he spoke. He'd spent the last few hours trying to find you, refusing to let you go.

Reluctantly, you meet his gaze. His expression is full of regret, and the sight of him looking so broken tugs at something inside you, but you shove it down. Not yet. You’re not ready to let him off the hook that easily.

“Why are you here, Jungkook?” you whispered, your voice sounding more detached than you felt. You weren't about to let him get away with what he did, you wanted him to feel like shit, so he could feel how you felt right now.

“Shouldn’t you be busy with your schedule? Or with the guys? You made it pretty clear that my feelings are just… too much for you.” You snapped a little harsher than you had wanted. The guilt on his face spread and he reached out for your hand, but you pulled it back from him. The mere act had him flinching at the rejection, it wasn't like you to reject any of his touches. For a moment, you almost feel bad, but then you remember the sting of his words, and the walls around your heart harden again.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he says, his voice thick with emotion, dropping down onto the wet grass not caring about if his suit got ruined.

“I didn’t mean what I said earlier. I was frustrated, and overwhelmed, and I took it out on you. But that doesn’t make it okay. I know I hurt you… and I’m so, so sorry.” He stared at you, waiting for you to say something, anything but you didn't. You sit in silence, staring out at the water as it flows steadily in front of you. Part of you wants to forgive him right away, to ease the ache in your chest. But the other part of you—the part that’s still hurting—holds back. You’re afraid that if you let him in too soon, it’ll happen again. And next time, it might hurt even more.

"Say something...A-Anything, baby, scream at me, yell at me...hit me, anything, please." He begged as he looked at you.

“I hate when you do that,” you say softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

“I hate when you make me feel like I’m too much. Like my feelings are a burden to you.” You finally whisper as you look over at him. His eyes were already on you. Jungkook’s breath hitches, and you can see the tears gathering in his eyes. He looks so vulnerable in this moment, and it almost breaks you but you don't let it. You weren't going to let this go so easily.

“You’re not a burden, Y/N. Never,” he says, his voice trembling. It wasn't like Jungkook to show this kind of vulnerability with anybody, you were the only person he allowed himself to break down in front of. Ever.

“I swear, you’re the most important person in my life. I just… sometimes I get so caught up in everything else that I forget to show you how much you mean to me. But you do mean everything to me. I’m nothing without you.” His words hang in the air between you, and for the first time tonight, you see just how much he’s hurting, too. He’s not perfect, neither are you.

“I’m not ready to just… forget what happened,” you admit quietly, looking down at your hands. Swallowing the lump that was forming in your throat,

“You really hurt me, Jungkook.”

“I know,” he says softly, inching closer his shoulders touching yours now but you didn't move away, you let him be close.

“And I don’t expect you to just forget. But I promise you, I’ll do better. I’ll be better for you. I’ll make it up to you every day if I have to. Just… please don’t shut me out. Let me take you home, let me make this better.” He pleaded with you, his hand itching to touch you but he kept himself at bay.

You finally look up at him, searching his face for any sign of insincerity, but all you see is the man you fell in love with. The one who would do anything to make things right.

The man who hadn't stopped begging you for a date, showing up every single day to your workplace until you finally agreed to a date. The same man that on your anniversary books out your favourite hotel so the two of you can be alone. So you can wander around lost in a hotel for hours - sometimes days - at a time. The man who had stopped at nothing to make you smile when you'd broken your arm last year in a ski accident.

And despite the hurt you felt, despite the anger, you believed him.

“Do you really mean that?” you ask, your voice softer than it had been earlier.

“Every single fucking word, princess,” he whispers, reaching for your hand again. This time, you let him take it, and the warmth of his touch soothes the dull ache in your chest. His thumb gently strokes your knuckles, and you feel a tiny flicker of hope start to grow inside you.

You let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly.

“Okay,” you say quietly.

“But you better mean it, Jeon Jungkook, or I'm not coming back next time.” You warn him. He lets out a soft laugh, even as his eyes glisten with tears. He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles, his breath warm against your skin.

“I do,” he promises, his voice full of love and sincerity. “I swear...Let me drive you home," He stands up, reaching out for your hand once again and helping you up to your feet.

"What about my car-" You stopped as you turned around to see it was already missing from where you had parked it, turning back to Jungkook you saw him smiling at you sheepishly.

"You were that sure I'd forgive you?" You didn't know whether to be mad or not at him for this but he shook his head,

"I was taking away your choice, either I drove you or we walked together," He smirks before you kiss him softly, his smirk slowly turning to a smile as he pulls you into a tight embrace.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp @royallyjjk @parkjennykim @piercedddriver

[peachesofteal]

Dead Disco / Chapter Fifteen Dead Disco masterlist

AO3 Warnings: Angst. The storm.

“You’re here.”

“I’m here.” Your heart breaks on it, on two little words. Breaks apart again at him standing in your door. The silence between the two of you is a scream, and though your tears have dried, there’s still an ache stretching infinitely before you. You peek over his shoulder, hoping Johnny is here too. Wanting to fix the mess you just made, but he’s not.

Simon is alone.

He pulls it wide. His face is twisted. His eyes are red. He’s been crying. The realization nearly brings you to your knees. “Can I come in?”

You didn’t clean the kitchen up, and neither did Johnny. He stood there for too long, kissing you over and over on your cheek, your forehead, your mouth and profusely apologizing, tugging his jeans up over his hips. Frozen afterwards, the two of you, fire and fuel once burning in your veins now ice cold, slithering under your skin like a disease.

That’s what you are. Who you are, who you were. An illness. A plague.

A slowly healing thing.

You always thought they made you better.

“I’ll stay, I should-“ 

“He’ll wonder.” You stared at the floor. “And he’ll worry, you know he will. He’ll be scared something happened to you.” 

“Darling, I dinnae want to leave ye right now-“ 

“I’m fine. Go.” 

Simon doesn’t try to touch you. He takes inventory of the mess, the caramel puddle of coffee spilled over the edge of the counter to the floor, the knocked over stagnant water and paintbrushes.

You become starkly aware, too aware of the state you’re in. The state of your apartment. The state of your brain.

You wish Johnny was with him. You want it to feel like before.

You can see his face so perfectly in your mind, the slope of his nose, the plush of his lips. Anxiety twists your stomach, worry about how he’s doing, what he’s doing weighing you down.

Still. Simon is steadfast. He’s the ship in a storm and you’re the sailor, clinging to a mast, praying to god you’ll survive.

“Are you-“

“I’m sorry I was so emotional on the phone.” You rush out, cutting him off. His brows knit together, prodigious sympathy in his eyes, golden brown refracting.

“I’m sorry for calling.”

“I’m… I’m glad you did.” He steps closer, and then away, opting to stand to the side, still taking stock of the kitchen, studying the orange pill bottles on the counter. “New meds?”

“Yeah.” The conversation is stilted, a dam preventing a flood.

“Are they working out?” You shrug.

“The one makes me really forgetful, but it’s not so bad.”

“That’s good.” You’re nodding and can’t stop. There’s a part of you wanting so badly, so desperately, to go to him, to bury your face in his chest and let it all go.

And there’s another part that doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t know how to reconcile any of this.

“Will you tell me how you’re feeling?”

“Confused. Sad.”

“That’s okay.”

“Is it?”

“Yes, darling. Whatever you’re feeling is okay.” Your stomach rumbles at the exact same time, and his lips quirk to the side. “Are you hungry?”

“A little.”

“Have you eaten today?” You can’t force your mouth to give the answer, the obvious no, so you shake your head. “Do you have groceries?”

“Some.”

“Can I make you something to eat?” You suck in a sharp breath. Can he? Will you let him? Will the two of you revert to these roles, like no time has passed? Have you not made progress, have you not grown? 

You pack the shame of it away, burying it deep. You’ll try to unpack it later, on the couch, in front of the doctor. You’ll talk through every second, pick it apart and try to put it back together again. You’ll rip yourself open, expose your soft spots, the ones that bleed more than any other.

She’ll tell you it’s okay.

She’ll ask you how you feel about the decision.

You’ll say you don’t know, as you always do, and she’ll say that’s okay too. You don’t have to know right now. She’ll tell you there is nothing wrong with the way you feel, just like Simon does.

There’s been intensive therapy, to get you to this place. To drag you across the finish line. Sessions after sessions, four days a week.

It was a bargain. She promised not to have you sent involuntarily, and you promised to be in her office every other day.

Still, she doesn’t know Johnny, doesn’t know Simon. She doesn’t see how they love, how they exist.

You take a deep breath. “Yes.”

You watch him from the couch. Curled over the armrest, your chin on your elbow. His shoulders, chest, flex under his t shirt, opening cabinets, searching for things in an unfamiliar place.

You’ve never felt more loved by him than you do in this moment.

A man willing to push everything away to take care of you, to disregard himself in favor of you, to put himself aside every time he steps through the door to focus on you.

A man who knows what's coming. Who's always been able to see inside you, and yet, still makes you dinner. Still cares for you in the way he knows how. 

All you ever wanted, was to feel loved by them. Separately and together.

Now you feel it more than ever.

You tried to force a circle into a square. 

You think about Johnny again. About how he’s at home, penitent, destroyed. You think about how he must feel, knowing Simon is here, and he’s there. You ache for him. Wish you were settled between them in bed, his body against yours, the steadfast pace of his breathing evening your own out. You want him to hold you. 

You wish he was here.

You ache without your pieces.

But you know it’s not supposed to be this way.

“Darling?” The cadence of your moniker pulls you away from yourself, and you look up.

He’s crouched in front of the couch, nearly eye level with you. “You’re crying.” You tap your face, surprised. You are, the realization abrupt, the onset of them too acute.

“’m sorry.” You choke, and he murmurs softly.

“It’s alright. You’re okay.” His thumb finds your cheek, carefully sweeping them away.

“I’m not.” The truth is agony. You’re not okay. You weren’t okay when you fucked Johnny, and you’re not okay now. You haven’t ever been okay, and it hurts so badly. It stings deep down in your heart, your belly.

Your tears rush out of you, and Simon moves, comes around the side of the couch.

He pulls you into his arms, and you bury your face in his chest.

Hiding. Relying. Letting him carry you through. 

“Simon…” You sob, and he rocks you, arms tight, resolute in their hold.

“Shhh, I know. I know, it’s okay.”

“I d-didn’t mean for this to happen.” You’re talking about Johnny, but you’re talking about everything. The struggle, the agony. Everything.

“I know you didn’t. I don’t want you to worry about that.” The feeling inside you is more than pain, it’s death, it’s excruciating. There’s a piece of you dying, crumbling, turning to ash. You’re trying so hard to hold onto it, to keep it inside, but it comes out with these wretched sobs, the ones that split your ribs open and bleed you dry.

He holds you through it. Holds you tight enough the pressure eventually calms you, and there’s nothing left except the soaked circle on his t shirt and your tired, wet eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” He takes a deep breath, still clinging. “Let me feed you.”

“Okay.”

He sits next to you at the little table where you usually try to eat alone. Where you drink your coffee, alone. Where you pick at your food, where you swallow a handful of pastel-colored pills with a glass of juice every morning like clockwork. Like a robot.

You manage more than a few bites. Breakfast for dinner, one of your favorites. You know he picked it because you love it, and he wants to make you happy.

It only makes you lachrymose. “I’m sorry about Johnny.”

“It’s not your fault, darling.”

“Don’t be mad at him.”

“Let me worry about that.”

“It wasn’t… he didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who put him in that position. I kissed him and-“

“He knew better. I don’t want you to dwell on… that.”

“I love him.” Your voice cracks.

“I know.”

“I love you.”

“I know you do, darling. I know.” You’re going to cry again; you can feel it. The acid starts up behind your eyes, and though you’re not sure you have anything left, they pool along your lower lids. “None of that.” He soothes. “C’mon. stay here, stay with me.” You shake your head.

“I l-love you both, so much. It hurts.” He blinks furiously, and then through your own blurry vision, you see his tears. The ones that slip reluctantly through his lashes, down his cheeks.

“We never wanted to hurt you.”

“I know, and you d-didn’t. It… it hurts Simon. It hurts and I don’t know why.” He tugs you from your chair and into his lap, hauling you up onto his thighs. “P-please-“

“Just… let me- let me hold you, darling. I don’t want- I want to feel you.” He cheek rests on the top of your head, and you cling to him, a child lost, a sailor scared in a storm.

He knows.

You know he knows. You feel it in the rapid pace of his heart, the shudder of his shoulders.

He knows. He knows it better than you do.

And maybe he always has.

“You were right.” After a while, he whispers in your hair. “And so was I, even though I didn’t want to see it. It was never fair.”

“We wanted it… too much.” That much is more than true. You wanted it so desperately, and so did they, you know it. You don’t doubt their love for you, though the scales have always been imbalanced. Imperfect puzzles, trying and failing to click together.

“I’m sorry, I… we, were so selfish.”

“I wanted you to be.”

“It still wasn’t right.”

You sit there for hours, curled up on his lap, listening to him breath, memorizing his heartbeat.

You think of Johnny for the hundredth time. You want him to be here. You want him to hold you too. You close your eyes and try to remember how he feels, your love for him overflowing into a mountain of more and more agony. For both of them. 

“I should go.” Simon finally says, shattering the moment, and you nod.

It’s a death march to the door.

“Will you come by, to see us? I mean… to… talk to us. Together.”

“Yeah, I… I will.” The guillotine waits in the wings, a final chorus cut off by a symphony.

“Tomorrow?”

“Okay.” He leans in, presses his lips to your forehead.

“I love you, darling. We always will.” You nod, but say nothing, cheeks wet again.

He turns away, rolling his shoulders, heading down the hall.

There’s something building in your heart, an explosion, fear compounding.

“Simon! Wait.” He stops. You close the gap, tugging him down until your lips crash together, warm and salt soaked and full of torment, suffering. “I love you.”

This time, he says nothing. Only kisses you again, long and slow, before taking you by the shoulders and intentionally stepping away.

“I know.”

You stand in front of their door for too long.

You wish there was something you could take, something you could do, to release you from this. To build a barrier around your heart so you don’t have to feel it. Any of it.

There’s not, and you know that.

You know you must succumb to the water, dip your head below and hope you come up for air on the other side.

There’s nothing left to do except this.

You lift your fist to knock.

“This is my fault.” Johnny cries, and you squeeze his hand.

“It’s not. It’s… it’s all of us. We did it together.” Simon kisses his temple, rubs his back, and he leans into him, face buried in his shoulder. The guilt eats you alive, knowing that the last time you truly spent with him was when he was inside of you. You wish you talked to him more, made him feel loved, told him how much you cared.

But you were selfish.

And so was he.

“It’s not your fault, sweet boy. I promise.” Simon tries to soothe him, but  Johnny slams a fist into his knee, so hard you wince, and Simon grabs it, fingers firm around his wrist. “Stop. Stop now.” He strokes a hand through his mohawk. You struggle to breathe. 

“I love you so much. That’s… that’s never going to change.” Johnny shakes his head as Simon closes his eyes, nose dipping down into his hair.

“Ye cannae leave us, darling. We need- I need ye. I love ye… p-please.” The three of you are crying, sliced open, surgically diced into cross sections for an autopsy.

The death of a relationship.

The death of three parts to a whole.

“Johnny.” You say his name, over and over, until he pulls away from Simon and tugs you close. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, breathing him in, committing his scent to memory.

Simon wraps his arms around you both.

You feel whole. A puzzle complete. A sunrise after a storm.

And that’s why. 

“I love you.” You kiss the shell of his ear, soaking him with your tears. They’re everywhere, dripping down your face, your neck, your shirt. You can barely keep your breathing steady, despair restricting your lungs. “I’ll always love you, Johnny. Always.”

“Please.” He sobs, shakes, holding onto you so tight. “Dinnae leave me. Please.” Your heart is shredding to pieces. Ribbons of blood and muscle trying to contain too much, unable to cling together. His pleas are enough to make you second guess yourself, to make you nausea enough to nearly throw up.

It’s beginning to become overwhelming, and in the throes of your building panic, you glance wildly at Simon.

He stares back. Nods. Wraps his hands around Johnny’s shoulders and tucks him back into his chest. “No!” Johnny hisses, but Simon holds him steady.

“I’ve got him.” He says, voice broken.

You sit frozen like a deer in headlights.

“I love you.” You cry, and hope they know it’s meant for both of them.

It’s always meant for both of them.

Simon takes one last long look at you and closes his eyes. “I’m proud of you.” He whispers, hoarsely, and the final piece of your heart breaks. “Go.”

Can you? 

Do you have the strength? 

The sun is bright on your face.

It’s warm, and beautiful, the promise of something new, something different. You stand on the sidewalk, devastated but-

Unafraid. Imperfect pieces, slowly stitching together to make you whole, all on your own.

Without Simon. Without Johnny.

Just yourself.

It’s terrifying. Heartbreaking. And it’s only you now.

You, figuring out how to exist in a world too harsh for your heart. You, without the protection and promise of your other pieces, the ones who came home to you every time, the ones who put you back together. You, learning how to take care of yourself, to truly do it, for the first time.

You, who is not broken.

You, who is stepping forward without darling.

You who is just… you.

[rbfclassy]

STILL IN LOVE! #9 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

A pounding headache awoke you from your sleep, the feeling of warm arms wrapped around you brought you comfort, mind still groggy and eyes barely open. You took a deep breath, licking your dry lips as the taste of alcohol with still on your tongue, making you slightly cringe at the bitter taste. You closed your eyes again, hands moving towards the warm arms wrapped around you. “Kento.” You smiled to yourself, voice cracking. You gently caressed his skin before gaining the strength to turn over towards him.

You slowly opened your eyes only to be met with familiar black hair, and an all too familiar scar. Your brows furrowed and you immediately sat up. “What the fuck?!” You screamed. Toji jolted awake, looking around the room before his eyes landed on you, a confused look on his face. “What the fuck are you doing in my bed, Toji?!” You screamed, not helping the fact your head was still pounding. You quickly scrambled out of the bed, mind running a million miles per hour and heart beating just the same.

“Woah, woah, woah, calm down, y/n!” He sat up, holding his hands out in defense. “Nothing happened between us, okay? We didn’t do anything,” he tried to explain.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you mumbled under your breath. What happened last night? Where was Kento? “What the fuck!” You screamed. “I can’t with you, Toji. We strictly agreed that this wouldn’t happen no matter what. We agreed that we only communicated if it came to the kids and now here you are making your way into my bed again! Oh my god! I should’ve fucking known!” You scoff in disbelief.

His brows furrowed at your words. “You called me last night!” Toji yelled back, getting out of the bed. “Crying, begging for me to come over here! Don’t pin this shit on me!”

“Oh, bull-fucking-shit, Toji. What’d you do, huh? Threaten Kento? Scared him away? All so you could have a quick fuck again?!” You clenched your jaw in anger.

“You don’t remember, do you?” Toji stared at you, lips parted.

“Remember what?” You shrug your shoulders, throwing your hands in the air.

Toji pulls his phone from his pocket, calmly walking over to you. You eye him up and down as he does so before he turns his phone towards you. “You called me, late last night, drunk, crying, begging me to come over, asking me to stay.”

You stare at the screen, seeing that you were the one who made a call to him last night. “I…” You quickly shut your mouth, not knowing what to say.

“Apparently you and your new boyfriend had gotten into an argument. Don’t ask me about what, I didn’t care to know. But, I don’t need you yelling at me and blaming me for being in your bed when you were clinging onto me with tears in your eyes saying that you—” Toji quickly cut himself off before he made the situation even worse. “Listen, y/n, I came over because I was worried something had happened to you. Otherwise, I would have respected our decision to leave each other alone. We didn’t have sex or anything of the sort like you’re assuming! I only stayed because you asked me to.”

You looked up at him with sincere eyes, poking your cheek with your tongue. “I’m sorry, I just—I thought…” You sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, whatever.” Toji grabbed his shoes, slipping them on. “I’ll be sure not to come again when you call unless the kids are here, I don’t want this happening again.” He opened your bedroom door before stopping in his tracks. “It’s best if you don’t remember last night.” He walked out of your bedroom, the sound of his footsteps growing farther away.

You sat there and pondered about what he just said, biting at the skin of your lips. “Shit.” You quickly grabbed your phone, wasting no time to call Kento. Your leg bounced up and down nervously as it kept ringing and ringing, hoping that you’d hear his voice on the other end of the line.

Whatever happened last night between you and him needed to be talked about, it’s sad that you can’t even remember it, but deep down you felt that was the right decision.

“Hello?” His voice was soft but raspy, like he had just woken up.

“Kento…hey,” you responded.

“Y/n,” he sharply spoke, like your name was something forbidden.

A deep sigh left your lips. “Can we talk about last night, please? I just want to apologize to you about being so harsh and making you leave—letting you leave. I just…I want us to work out. You’re an amazing person and I appreciate you in my life—”

“Y/n, I’m gonna stop you right there.” He cut you off, leaving you slightly shocked. “After our small argument last night and after I had left, I realized one thing about this whole situation that I don’t even think you realize yourself. In no way am I blaming you or shaming you because you’re also amazing, beautiful, and kindhearted, but…I know you’re still in love with Toji.” His words hit you like a truck, your mouth dry, eyes darting around the room as if you were searching for what to say. “Whether you believe it or not, it’s what I noticed, what I see.”

“Kento, but, I don’t want this to end between us just because you think I’m still in love with Toji. I’m sorry if I hurt you last night or said anything that offended you, but I want us to work out. Can you just come over so we can talk? Please?” It was embarrassing, but you were begging him, that heavy feeling starting to sink down on your chest.

You heard sigh on the other end. “I’m sorry, y/n.” Your phone beeped as he abruptly hung up. You threw your phone on the bed as tears pooled in your eyes.

Maybe it was you, always you. Maybe you just weren’t meant to be happy and find real love. Maybe you were the one who was always making the mistakes. Why was it so easy for him to leave? To forget you just like that? It all felt too familiar, making you reminisce about your arguments with Toji. You wiped your tears stained cheeks, taking in a deep breath. You’ve barely even woken up fifteen minutes ago and your day has already gone to shit.

“Mom?!” You heard Megumi call as the front door squeaked open. Quickly, you wiped away your tears, trying to pull yourself together before your kids saw you. You didn’t want them to know you were crying.

Naya’s little feet could be heard running down the hall as she entered your room with a smile on her face. “Mommy!” She jumped into your arms, hugging you tightly.

“Hi! Good morning, baby!” You giggled. “How was aunty Shoko’s?” You asked, wiping a crumb off of her cheek.

“It was fun! She took us to a trampoline park, then the movies, and then we ate a restaurant!” She smiled.

“Hi, mom.” Megumi walked into the room, a tired look on his face, still dressed in his pajamas. You couldn’t help but laugh as he waddled over to you like a zombie, holding his arms out to hug you.

“Hi, my love,” you chuckled. “You look so tired.” You gently caressed his back. All he did was nod in return, nearly falling asleep on you. “Here,” you slipped his backpack off, “sleep a little longer in my bed and I’ll wake you up when breakfast is done, okay?”

“‘Kay.” The young boy plopped down face first into the pillow, pulling the blanket over his body.

“Mommy, can I help you make breakfast? I want blueberry and raspberry pancakes.” Your daughter batted her eyes at you, tugging on your shirt.

“Of course, let’s go and let your brother sleep.”

“So you ended up at her house last night, in her bed, and she said she loved you?” Gojo asked, taking a sip from his drink. Toji nodded in response. “Fucking hell,” he chuckled with a shake of his head. “And you didn’t say anything to her?”

“She was fucking drunk, Gojo! What’d you want me to do, confess my feelings, getting married again and get her pregnant all in one minute? She one hundred percent didn’t mean a thing she said which is why she went off on me the moment she woke up. She’s with that dude anyway, it’s got nothing to do with me.” Toji just shrugged, taking a swig from his beer.

Gojo rolled his eyes. “Something tells me that you didn’t tell her what she said last night.” He stared at Toji, brows raised. Toji just stared back in silence, biting the inside of his cheek. “I knew it,” he scoffed.

“She wouldn’t have believed me anyway.” Toji sounded defeated, like he’d given up all hope that you and him would ever be together again. Which was true. Maybe it’s time that he stops fighting and let’s go. Let’s you go. “I think I’m starting to accept that me and her will never happen again.”

Gojo suck his teeth, waving Toji off. “Ah, come on, don’t say that.”

“It’s the fucking truth. But goddamn is it hard to accept.” He clenched his jaw.

“Kiss her,” Gojo bluntly stated.

Toji looked at him, confused. “What?”

“Kiss her and see. If she goes back for more, she still loves you, if she pushes you away then you know it’s over,” Gojo explained, like it was as easy as blinking.

“You are one stupid motherfucker,” he laughed, sipping on his beer.

“What?!” Gojo asked, voice slightly high.

“I can’t just kiss her, that’s weird, and she’s still with that guy. It’s not right. I can’t.” Toji shook his head, fiddling with the ring on his middle finger.

“Look,” Gojo slightly leaned forward, “I’m just tryna help you get your ex wife back, okay? Might not be the best ideas, but they’ve worked for me…in the past. Point is, it’s your best shot. Everything else you’ve tried has gone to shit. If she’s still with the guy, then don’t do it. If she is, well there you go.”

“But how would I know if they’re still together? I can’t just ask,” Toji mentioned.

“Be patient.” Just as soon as Gojo finished speaking, Toji’s phone went off, a text popping up on his screen.

Kids came back from Shoko’s a few hours ago, said they wanna see you.

Toji stared at the text, contemplating if he should go over there today, especially after what happened just few hours ago between you and him.

You stared at the text you had sent, waiting for his reply as he usually responds quickly, but there was nothing. You shut your phone off, watching as the kids played in Megumi’s room, Naya with her dolls and Megs on his video game.

“Did daddy respond?” Naya glanced up at you.

“Not yet, but I’m sure he will,” you assured her, a soft smile spread across your face. As the two were occupied with their things, you walked into your bedroom and laid down on the bed. You began to think about what Nanami had said, making you second guess everything about yourself. Were you still in love with Toji? How could you possibly know? What is it that you do or say that makes it so obvious to others? The questions began piling up, crowding your brain.

You weren’t in love with Toji, not anymore. Nanami is just saying things, still hurt over the argument that occurred. You were sure that you guys would be back together in no time. A misunderstanding is all this is. But then again, you called Toji last night, not Nanami. It was Toji you ran to first when you were upset and drunk. It was Toji who stayed when you asked him, even when he most likely knew you’d react the way you did this morning.

You toss in your bed, inhaling deeply as you stare at the ceiling and your phone buzzes.

I’ll be there in ten. Tell them I’m not coming, I wanna surprise em.

You chuckle through your nose at the text, getting up out of bed and walking over to your son’s room. “Hey, babies?” You said in almost a sad tone.

“Yeah?” Megumi responded, pausing his game.

“Daddy can’t make it today, said he’s busy. He’ll be here tomorrow though.” You frown.

“But…I miss him,” Naya said.

“He misses you too, that’s why he said tomorrow. Sometimes daddy gets busy just like mommy does,” you explained.

“Okay…” Megumi had a small pour on his face as he unpaused his game.

You walked back out the room and pulled your phone from your pocket.

They got so sad when I said you weren’t coming lol. Get here quick don’t wanna see one of my poor babies crying

series masterlist

tag list (comment to be added):

@sweetpo1son @lovebittenbyevans @ryumurin @he4rts444mi @cherrypieyourface @lemonintrovert01 @ladysi0 @avanly @chilichopsticks @tananaxx @akusrider @irlbungee @my-anime-garden @hnm-mika @antiholdinghandsclub @yharnam-prophet @crankyarchives @kenqki @ebiharachan @dollcest @whoreforjjkmen @yoyio90 @jaegergirl @r0seandth0rns @blankwashed @ittomain1 @3rdmonday @5seos @weird0o0 @1-800-choke-that-ho @s-j320 @viisgrave @mayajadewrites @jhiyoon @fisherman-boat @mochimoee @cheridrwyy @vi-ola666 @emmaperdoswife @sucrose-fqn @rhyies-pieces @tojislittleprincesss @sashadonat @ruixrei @zara-zara11 @paper--angel @khyok @ilyanadelarosa @zxnxy @esmedelacroix

[loaksbitch]

imagine you’re too scared to tell neteyam you’re pregnant cause he’s not ready for a family but you’re so wrong yes? this is a little present until i’m done writing the finale of ‘i trusted you’ series — 1.2k wc

warnings - mention of vulgar language, none other than that! likes + reblogs are super appreciated and not pressured thank you sm <3

“my baby in you?” — neteyam sully (✿)

you’re scared.

you’re so scared and mo’at’s voice dining in your head isn’t helping but making it worse. you knew this would happen, it would eventually come but not in a million life time you thought it would be now.

“you should tell him, my child.” mo’at had said to you. “he must know you’re carrying a fruit of love inside you.”

how can you randomly go and tell him, your mate, neteyam that you’re pregnant with his child? he clearly has told you he doesn’t want a family, at least not right now.

you both agreed to focus on yourself and each other and family would come later but here you are crying because of the child you’re carrying, scared neteyam won’t accept him or…her.

you haven’t noticed how you’re protectively covering your stomach until you had to bring your hands up to wipe your tears

hours have passed since you haven’t stopped crying or went to sleep unintentionally.

“princess, wake up.” a familiar voice echoes in your head and you open your amber eyes hardly since it was swollen and pretty puffed up.

once you recognize who the man in front of you is, you jump and scoot away from him. “shit, did i scare you?” he brings his hand close to you, “it’s me baby, neteyam i’m neteyam, your man.” the way he claims he’s yours makes your stomach even churn

what if he doesn’t want to be your man after this?

“that’s right, come here” he calls for you, taking your dainty hands to him and pulling you close for a hug. “you were crying while sleeping.” you’re both now hugging while neteyam is kneeling in front of you and you’re sat on the thick mat

“something bothering you?”

he feels you shake your head and licks his lips before pushing you back a little to scan your face.

“don’t lie to me, pretty girl” you feel him cup your cheeks and trace your blue stripes as he gives you a melting smile.

did this really need to happen, eywa? why was she making you suffer like this when neteyam was clearly strict over having a baby right now?

“princess,” you’re pulled from your thoughts when your mate calls for you. “talk to me, what is it?”

“it’s nothing.” you blurt out and push neteyam’s hand away from you before getting on your feet. neteyam watches you with a furrowed brows when you walk away from him

this time, he calls you by your name and no pet names to make you freeze at your spot. “what’s wrong with you?” he didn’t fail to notice how your moods kept changing this days

how you’re very argumentative or a crybaby with no reason.

“i said,” you take a deep breath “noth–“ neteyam had enough. “cut the crap and tell me, what’s wrong? you know i won’t leave you alone without knowing what’s bothering my wife.”

his wife, neteyam was also on his feet now, towering your small body. he knows how stubborn you can be and he’ll make sure to fight until the end to know what’s up with you

“i’m worried, okay? fuck i’m so worried i can’t even focus on my training”

right, his so-called training.

you bite your lips and look away, why is it hard just to tell him you’re carrying his baby huh? why does this argument need to happen?

“hey,” neteyam was close to you again, taking your face to his large palms. “please tell me baby, mhm?” he presses a soft kiss on your lips but you don’t kiss back nor smile

“what’re hurting you? let me hurt with you, yeah?”

you can’t even describe how much you love this man and just losing him scares you so much. but you’ve to tell him, sooner or later you have to let him know you’re gonna give birth to the fruit of love you both made after months

“nete’” at your call, your mate desperately hums and searches for your eyes that’s becoming very teary. “i’m sorry” you can feel how his face twists in confusion but he’s silent so you can talk farther

you’re finally opening up and he wasn't dating to interrupt you.

but then again you’re awfully silent, only tears trickling down your beautiful face. “why’re you sorry?” his heart is now picking up its race and neteyam swallow down his worry

“i know you never wanted it to be this soon, i know you’re not ready and i’m sorry i’m ruining everything.”

the way your voice quivers makes his plan sweat and chest tighten, he hates seeing you in pain. “baby, please tell me what it is, what am i not ready for?” you’re silent again but neteyam was patient with you

he can see how you’re debating with yourself if you should say what you’re going to say or no

his breath bitch when you look at him, your pretty and big amber eyes wet from tears, neteyam only wipes them off your cheeks.

“i’m…” you stop and take a deep breath, “i’m pregnant, neteyam.”

right there, you don’t miss how his fingers stop wiping your tears, how his eyes are slightly widened and his body completely going stiff.

you begin to panic and bring your hands to him which is holding your face warmly, “i-i know you’re not ready and i’m sorry i ke— i keep ruining things for you.” you’re fast to apologize but neteyam wasn’t budging that you’re thinking he’s having a stroke

“i’ll take care of it myself,” you say wanting to bring back neteyam to himself but no answer, “i’m so sorry, we should’ve neve—“

things were fast when neteyam suddenly clashed himself to you, teeth clashing to each other when he’s kissing you, your wet eyes are widen and neteyam is desperately tugging on your lower lips with his teeth

did he not get what you said? you literally told him what he doesn’t want to hear and he’s kissing you.

one hand on your cheek and the other slides down to your lower back and pulls you close to him, you close your eyes and kiss back.

warm touches and tongue licks your lower lip, neteyam whines to your lips. he breaks the contact and a string of saliva latches to both of you.

“you’re having little us.” he was pressing his forehead against yours. you’re somehow confused and open your mouth to speak. “you’re not mad?” you softly whisper and neteyam looks at you like you’re stupid.

“mad? baby, i’m the happiest na’vi alive.”

something in you finds relief and you start to smile.

you giggle when you’re swept away from your feet and neteyam twirls you while laughing happily. “neteyam!” you say in between your laugh but neteyam was too happy to even listen

once you’re back on your feet, neteyam searches for your eyes, “you have my baby in you?” his eyes were teary when you shyly nodded.

“don’t ever apologize for this, it’s not only you who’s in this but me too.” he tucks your braids behind your ears, “princess, you’ve no idea how scared i was to tell you i want a family with you sooner.”

neteyam takes a deep breath, “i regret telling you i’m not ready because i was from the start, i just didn’t want you to feel pressured.” he says and your lips curve for a smile.

“i’m so fucking ready you’ve no idea.” he places a feather light kiss on your forehead.

“i love you baby,” he pulls you for a hug and loves how you fit on his chest. “i love you too.” you hug him back, silently thanking eywa and apologizing at the same time.

i need a man like neteyam and it’s not even a joke, i hope you liked this one! thank you for reading — likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 i love each and everyone of you sm! mwah**

[ningvory]

sick and twisted — yu jimin

CW: noncon, maid!gp!karina, ceo’s daughter reader, darcyphilia, pervert karina, forced breeding, anal, degrading, choking, breath play, oral (k. receiving), manhandling, mean rina, not proofread i’m so sorry i kept dozing off on this </3

word count: 1.4k

anon ask? yes!

being the daughter of the richest ceo you were spoiled to no end by your father. he’d buy you anything and everything you want, it doesn’t matter what the price was.

but you never let that get into your head, you were the sweetest girl anyone could ever want! you were just so pretty! always greeting the maids with a smile on your face before asking if there’s anything they need help with and offering to help them clean the gigantic mansion that your father owned, but they always shook their head with a smile. telling you that they’ve got it all under control.

so could you really blame karina for gaining a crush on you? she knows it’s wrong but she can’t help it! she honestly swears that you do it on purpose, you have the looks of a doll and such a sweet personality. you can easily attract anyone and have anyone wrapped around your pretty finger, and you’ve gotten karina wrapped around your finger without you knowing it, eventually she’s gonna take action and pounce on you, she just needed to wait for the perfect opportunity.

today you were home alone, only being left with one maid, that being karina. she was cleaning the already spotless upstairs, so you went downstairs, not wanting to get in her way.

she’d call you upstairs, making an excuse of needing help from you so almost immediately, you rushed upstairs, “what’s wrong, karina?” you’d ask her, finding her in your room.

but poor you, you got it all wrong. she’s suddenly closing your door and locking it before she pounces on you.

“w-what—karina! what are you doing? get off me!” you’d desperately try and fight back against her but she was just too strong, pinning your arms down to the bed with one hand so she can undress you.

“aww why are you crying? you know what you were fucking doing wearing those booty shorts and tight tops around the house.” karina said, wiping the tears from your face, “stop fucking moving,” her voice was low, completely different from her normal tone and it scared you. so you stopped fighting against her, letting her undress you and leaving you bare.

“body so fucking pretty, you’ll look so pretty with this on.” she said, admiring your body before she’s dressing you up with a tight pink dress, it’s so tight on your body it has your boobs spilling out. just one wrong move and you’re flashing everyone, but luckily she’s the only one who gets to see you in the dress.

she makes you sit up, bringing your hand to palm her hardened dick, “see what you did to me, pretty? it’s only right if you fix what you’ve done.” she grunts, head falling back before letting out a soft moan.

she pulls down her boxers to reveal her angry red mushroom tip, already soaked with her precum.

she brings your head down to her cock, bringing your lips down to the tip of her cock, expecting you to open your mouth but to no avail.

“open your fucking mouth, bitch.” her tone was low, and her grip on your arm and your hair was tight, making you stifle a cry. you were beyond shaking but nonetheless, you obligated to her words, you opened your mouth, in fear of what she’ll do if you didn’t obey.

the moment you opened your mouth she pushed your head down on her cock, making you gag and choke on her cock down your throat. your hand flew to her thighs, hands gripping on both of her legs trying to get her to slow down. but she’s too far gone, her heads clouded from the pleasure to even care.

“fuckk! so p-pretty—f’me! taking my cock so well!” she grunts, her hips begin to widely thrust up into your awaiting mouth. you can’t do anything but sob and let her abuse your mouth.

“shit—stop fucking crying, slut i know you like this.” she feels your tears begin to drop onto her milky thighs before boping your head quicker down her cock, making you whimper around her cock, causing nothing but pleasure to the older. through the aggressiveness of her hands controlling your head, you managed to shake your head no. you didn’t like this.

she laughed before she brings your head all the way down, your nose flushed right on her pelvis. in a panic you began to repeatedly tap on her thigh, trying to get her to let up but she wouldn’t, “spoiled—bitch. where’s your—manners? take all i fucking give you.” she grunts keeping your head down. you begin to sniffle, before she’s thrusting up into your mouth and spilling all of her load into your warm mouth, making you choke and gag on her cum and her cock.

she keeps you there until she released all of her cum into your mouth. she pulls you away from her cock only to place her hand on your throat, “swallow it all, slut.” she looks you dead in the eye. so you nod, her grip on your shaking body basically told you that you needed to obey every command she gave, with tears rolling down your flushed face.

she felt your throat swallow, and you opened your mouth, showing her that you swallowed all of her cum, “such a good girl,” a smile appears on her face with your obligation.

just when you thought she was done, she’s gripping your neck with a stronger grip and pushing you down on your bed.

her hands start to trail up your legs, until it’s right at your panties, starting to take them off before your hands grip on her wrists, “n-no! karina—stop! don’t wan it,” you protest hands pushing on her chest.

“shut the fuck up, whore.” is all she says before ripping off panties.

after the hustle with you, she’s lining her cock up with your hole before she’s shoving her thick cock into your cunt, stretching you lil hole out.

“kar-karina! pull out—please!” you plea to her before she’s placing a hand back onto your throat, choking you and making your words die down in your chest.

“if you don’t want it—why the fuck is your cunt squeezing around me?” she whispers, bullying her cock into your cunt, “fuck! that guy—who’s fucking you must be terrible in bed, you’re tight as a fuckin virgin.” she grunts.

“t-too big—unnie! pull o-out!” you cry to her, words are struggling to come out due to her tight grip on your throat.

“hah! such a pain slut, you fuckin like this.” karina teases, before she’s pulling all the way out, leaving her tip inside before quickly thrusting all the way into your cunt, making your back arch and your breath hitch.

the moans you let out are strangled, her cock is bullying your cervix so much it has your body jittering before cumming all over her cock without warning.

“stupid whore, all the crying and you’re cumming around my cock.” she coo’s before spreading your cunt apart, watching the way your cum spills outta your stuffed cunny.

she flips you around, forcing you to arch your back nice for her, “thought we were done? after waiting for so long to finally fuck you, you think we’re just goin’ for one round? haven’t even got to fuck your ass” her voice is laced with faux sympathy.

“n-no! please!” you beg when you feel her pull outta your cunt, “anything but that!” she’s pushing your head into your pillows and pushes her cock in, moaning loudly from the tightness, “shut up and fuckin’ take it.” she begins to wildly thrust into your ass.

she keeps your hips in place, pounding her cock into your ass quicker and pushes two fingers into your cum covered cunt, “my stupid cum dump, holes made just for me. g’na take all my cum in your ass right?” she whispers, and you nod almost immediately.

a high pitched squeal rips outta your chest when you feel her slap your ass. she fucks into you once last time before 3 strings of cum shoots outta her cock and flooding your ass. your cunt squeezed around your fingers and your cumming once more.

she finally pulls out, watching her seed spill out slowly before whining, “aww, we can’t let anything go to waste now can we?” she asks before she’s pushing the butt plug she brought into your ass to keep her cum in your ass.

“so nasty!” she notices your cum dripping down your legs and onto your bed, “gonna have to breed you and train you to be a good slut from now on since you loved this so much.” she giggled making your eyes go wide, you don’t want this again but it seems like you didn’t have a choice.

[liketolovexx]

heyyy, can i request good old enemies to lovers with so much angst but ends with fluff with sirius??? maybe they used to be friends before and Sirius just suddenly turned cold? and the reader was giving the same energy and all they do is bicker and one time the reader just burst out about how siri is being a prick and then it ends with confession?? it's very long 😭😭im sorry

Hey guys!!! Sorry I’m going through requests VERRRRY slowly atm but please feel free to leave requests in my inbox for me to get round to <3 love u all so much

Also, I included reader seeing Regulus as a little brother figure and looking after him, because I can’t not :-( sorry if it puts u off the fic!!

(CW: LOTS of angst, child abuse from walburga, sad Sirius, sad Regulus, Sirius being cold and cruel to cope with loss, basically the reader being the black brother’s best friend, ends with fluff<3)

“I used to love you.” ~S.O.B

{you were from a pure blood family, best friends with Sirius Black. You comforted him through his mother’s cruelty, and fell in love along the way. Until Sirius ran away, leaving you to protect his little brother from harm out of the love you still held. Now, when you see him in school, you give him a reciprocated glare. But why does he hate you?}

“Sirius, come here!” Came the harsh, threatening voice of Walburga Black, she sounded angry, really angry, and you watched Sirius tense, looking up from the book you were reading together. His eyes were wide, face whiter than usual, holding much more terror than a little boy should ever have to endure. You put a hand on his shoulder, warming him in this cold house. “Hey, it’s fine. Whatever happens, you can come back up to me after. I’ll take care of you.” You told him. You may have been only children at the time, but the way Sirius nodded and his silver eyes softened and glittered with tears, you knew you had a certain way with him.

Alone in Sirius’s room, you played with your hands, shoulders stiff as you listened to the mother scream ruthlessly at her son, trying not to picture the broken, guilty, vacant expression you knew would be adorning Sirius’s tear-stained face. You couldn’t hear Sirius’s responses to Walburga’s yelling, you knew he froze up when he was scared, so he’d be mumbling in response. “I DONT CARE IF YOUR FRIEND IS UPSTAIRS. YOU ARE A DISGRACE ALREADY!” She yelled. You had to cover your ears when gut-wrenching cries and wails started to echo up the stairs. Walburga was using the crucio curse on her son. Again.

~~~

Soon, the screams ceased and Sirius rushed up the stairs and into his room where you still sat. He slammed the door desperately, and crumbled to the floor beneath it, shaking like a leaf and loud sobs starting to make his small back heave. You leaped off of his bed and knelt beside him. Hesitantly, you reached out to touch his back, but he flinched away from you with a sharp, choked gasp. That was when the first crack painfully sliced its way through your heart. To see your best friend weak and bawling on the floor of his bedroom, scared of even you, was an agonising feeling. Eventually, Sirius realised you wouldn’t hurt him, and wiggled into your lap, crying quieter now. His head found its way into your neck as he cried, and you could feel his wet tears snaking down your skin.

“Sirius, I’m here.” You whispered into his disheveled black curls. At that, you felt his body weaken in your lap. Before you knew it, he was asleep ontop of you, your arms wrapped around him. He stirred, turning slightly, slipping down your body so his head lay comfortably on your chest, and your face scrunched in both pity and guilt. A puddle of thick crimson blood stuck his hair to his pale forehead. You hated yourself for not being able to stop his mother from hurting him. Watching his body rise and fall with each peaceful breath he took as he slept, you spat on your sleeve and wiped the blood away, earning a harsh twitch and broken whimper from the raven-haired boy. He deserved nothing but peace.

With Sirius draped over your body like a snow-white blanket, hair splayed over you like he’d claimed you as his own bed, the door creaked open. You tensed, holding Sirius tighter, ready to give anything to protect him if Walburga showed in the door, but instead, a small frame appeared. Regulus. “Oh, Regulus.. did the shouting scare you?” You ask softly. The boy nods. He’s the spitting image of his big brother. “Is Siri okay?” He murmurs, rubbing his eye. You nod. “C’mere.”

Regulus tucks himself into the crook of your arm, head laying on the flesh of your shoulder. With big eyes mirroring Sirius’s, he peers up at his brother. “Heard mama shouting at him. He breaked something, I think.” Regulus explains shyly. “Mh. Your mother isn’t kind to Sirius. She isn’t kind to you either.” You say, more to yourself than him. He still nods in agreement. You stroke Sirius’s hair as he shifts in his sleep. “I’ll get you both out one day. And… and me and Sirius can get married. And you can be the best man-“ you describe your fantasy to the small boy, who has a wonderful smile creasing his little face, eagerly listening to each and every detail of the life he hoped to one day live.

~~~

You were now both in hogwarts. Over the years, Sirius had become rebellious, learning to fight back to his mother, but this always resulted in the crucio curse, which resulted in him collapsing in your arms. You were, admittedly, all he had. You and his little brother, who he’d noticed following the path of his parents. He hated the fact that regulus was so obedient to their inane beliefs. He hated it. It was only you who could calm his rushing mind.

It took only one night for everything to change. You weren’t over at his house, so he was alone, and he had a particularly bad row with his mother. After using the crucio curse on the boy until his thin limbs were tangled and trembling on the ground, his jet black curls tangled and his bitten-raw lip quaking like a child’s. While he was in this state, his mother mocked him. All he wanted was to be in the safety of your arms right now. He knew that although you came from a pure-blood family, you were not evil. You were good. You were like him, but braver. Kinder.

That night, Sirius knew he couldn’t live in this house anymore. He packed a bag full of clothes, essentials, and was unable to resist taking Regulus’s old teddy bear, an old shirt of yours and a necklace that was matching with you. He tied up his dark hair and slipped on his leather jacket. He’d grown out his hair because his parents didn’t approve of it: he wore the jacket simply because his parents didn’t like the 70s-rocker look. He’d do anything to escape those sleek black suits, hair styled tidily, silver and jewels everywhere he looked. In this house, he was nothing but a decoration, so he vowed to make his appearance undesirable to his parents. But, you always thought it suited him. While he crept silently down the corridor, boots hardly making a sound on the fancy patterned carpet, he heard a creak. His heart stopped. Fuck, he thought. Its mum. I’m never getting out. Oh, god, I’m never getting out.

“Siri?”

A small voice asked. It was Regulus. Sirius spun around where he stood to see an unruly mop of black curls matching his, framing a pale, soft face that didn’t at all suit the bitter yet elegant brutality of his family. “Reg.” was all Sirius could squeak.

“…you’re leaving aren’t you?”

“…yeah.”

“Oh.”

Regulus looked at his feet. He looked back up at his older brother.

“I’ll be by myself, Sirius.”

Sirius’s jaw clenched. He fought back the tears.

“I’m sorry, Reggie. I love you.”

Regulus’s daintily perfect face crumpled. “You can’t go, Siri, I don’t-.” He swallowed. “I don’t want to be alone. Not with them.” Sirius opened his arms. His little brother crashed into them like he’d disappear if he wasn’t fast. “I’m sorry, reg. I love you, but I can’t stay.” He murmured. Regulus was now sobbing into his shoulder. Sirius felt like the worst person on earth. He needed to get to James’s house before his mother woke up. “Regulus, I have to go.” He told him, petting the back of his head. Regulus suddenly pushed his brother back. Sirius recognised this; the anger that reg was displaying. When he was the same age, when he felt vulnerable, he disguised it with anger. He still did. “F-fine. Go. I don’t need you.” Regulus spat, his glistening silver eyes betraying him. “You’re… you’re really… really mean, Sirius, you know that?” He tried to hiss, but it turned out as a cracked whimper. Sirius felt his heart shatter in his chest. Stinging tears dripped down his cheeks.

“I love you, Regulus.”

“…”

Regulus walked to his room.

~~~

Sixth year.

Sirius had decided that he couldn’t hurt you anymore. With him leaving home, being a blood traitor, he knew he’d only cause you trouble. He couldn’t bare the thought of it. Little did he know he’d be doing just that.

When break had ended, you’d gone to greet your best friend. “Sirius! I’m sorry I didn’t see you much over the holiday, god, how’s regulus? Are you-“ your shoulders clashed together as he continued walking. much to your confusion, he walked straight past you with the icy glare of his father. “…Sirius?” You tried again, catching up with him and grabbing onto his shoulder. The physical contact from the person he loved most hurt like the touch of searing iron, and he flinched away. “Fuck off! Can’t you just.. just fucking go away?” He growled. His silver eyes were a stormy grey, he hated himself more as he watched your face fall. “What..?” You breathed, looking so heartbroken. He hated himself for making you hurt as well as his little brother.

He hated himself, he hated himself, he hated himself.

Trying to soothe the ache in his chest, he rushed past you. He left you standing in the ruins of what he had torn down.

From then on, everything changed.

~~~

Sirius Black was not your best friend anymore. He was cold and unresponsive, shooting you murderous glares whenever you saw him. He’d make offensive comments at you when he came close enough to communicate with you, and it confused you immensely. What happened to the boy who came to you for comfort? Who cried in your arms and begged you to keep him safe and warm? What happened to your boy? Your best friend? Only god knows.

You didn’t even know Sirius had run away until your parents informed you that you couldn’t go around to the Black’s house anymore. This had sparked a heated argument. “What? He ran away? He didn’t tell me!” You’d exclaimed. “Yes. To the Potter’s house, we hear. Walburga has burned his picture off of the tapestry, and-“

“Wait, what? I can’t go round anymore? What about Regulus?”

“No. Walburga doesn’t allow guests to see her children anymore.”

“What? No, no, no, I need to see Reg. come on, Dad, he needs me!”

Long story short, your argument was to no avail. You couldn’t see Regulus. You couldn’t protect him from his parent’s wrath like you had his brother. Alike Sirius, you spent some of your nights lying awake thinking about Regulus, alone and cold in that hellish house, and most of your night thinking about Sirius, and what you did to make him despise you so.

Soon enough, You and Regulus had fixed your relationship, and many nights you’d find yourself singing the youngest Black brother to sleep. You could comfort him from within the walls of hogwarts where his mother couldn’t hurt him. Even when Sirius hated you, you cared for his brother like he was your own.

~~~

At first, you’d tried to coax Sirius into talking to you. You’d stood with tight lips while he insulted you, and listened to his hateful, meaningless rants. You noticed how his friends, James, Peter and Remus, stopped egging him on when it came to you, and started nudging him or trying to distract him, as if he’d say something he’d regret. But you’d come to think that Sirius black was remorseless.

You weren’t sure why he’d switched up on you, become so mean. You did, however, decide that you would be just as harsh right back to him. You knew you could never bring yourself to hate him. He owned your heart, whether you liked it or not. You learned to hate that you couldn’t help that.

It had soon been a year. One torturous year of finding your spells book torn to shreds, looking at dark eyes that you once knew so well only to see an unrecognisable boy. The smirk that once brought warmth to your chest now opened a bottomless pit in your stomach. With each day, you ached more and more. So did he. Sirius loathed himself indescribably. He knew that if he told you, even after the torture he’d subjected you to, you’d kiss his forehead like old times and tell him it was okay. Tell him that he was good, and he’d never be like his parents, and that you were there for him. You were an amazing person, and he was horrible. But he couldn’t drop his facade now.

You were just trying to study when a voice you’d come to find agitating and grating permeated the silence of the library. “Ooh, little blood supremacist… what you studying? Dare I say dark magic?” Rolling your eyes, you slammed the textbook shut. “shut up, Black. You came from quite the same roots.” “Maybe: but I was brave enough to get out. I was good enough to get out.” He retorted with a grimace. Looking up to meet his cold gaze, you noted that his creased white shirt was unbuttoned, his crimson and gold tie hanging loose over his shoulders, only curls pinned up carelessly with his wand. A dangerous hairstyle, for sure.

“Would you give it a break? I was the reason you didn’t go crazy in that house.”

“I did go crazy in that house.”

“Yeah, I can fucking tell.” You said with a scoff. He pulled away your notebook. “So, have you got the dark mark yet? Godric knows you’ll be ecstatic-“ “why are you such a dick, Sirius?!” You yell hoarsely, jumping to your feet. His eyebrows furrowed at your outburst. Slightly, his eyes softened at the sight of your glassy ones, brimming with unshed tears. He said nothing, lips parted. “You’re.. you’re a fucking prick. I never did anything to you.” Turning away to hide your face which had turned pink as it did when you were about to cry, You started upstairs to your dormitory.

~~~

knock, knock, knock.

Someone rapped on your dorm’s door.

Knock, knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock. Knock.

Someone was incredibly impatient. You used the palm of your hand to dry your eyes slightly and sniffled. “What? Who is it?” You croaked. A voice answered, “please can I come in?” You frowned. This time, it was a voice you knew. You recognised it, broken and weak, pained, yet honey-smooth all the same. That was your Sirius. Your heart hurt again knowing you’d never have him back, not fully. You fully believed this was another of his cruel pranks.

“Come in.” You mumbled.

As Sirius muttered your name, you felt you were transported back to your childhood. When you’d play and read together. Laugh and smile. “What do you want, Black.” When you said that, his lip twitched, face scrunching slightly. He looked as if the words physically pained him. With that expression painted on his face, he looked just like he did as a child. Except now, his hair was longer, his face more angular, more beautiful. “Don’t call me that. Please.” He begged, voice cracking with emotion. You looked up at him with a waning expression of anger. “Why not? You have been awful to me, I will call you what I choose.” You say. He whimpers pitifully.

He shuts the door behind him. You hear him mumble something. “What did you say, Black?”

“I’m in love with you.”

Your body is tense. Everything is silent. You have one question.

“Why were you so angry with me when you left?”

He hesitated, before answering as raw and truthful as he can. “Because I was stupid. I knew nothing but that I loved you. And I hated myself, and I couldn’t hurt you any further.”

“What? Hurt me? Hurt me how?”

“I burdened you all those years, with my weeping and pathetic pleas for comfort after my mother hurt me. When I could only feel safe shrouded in your warmth. I needed you. And I need you now. I’ve loved you since the moment I met you.”

Nothing felt real. You reached a hand out, and Sirius lowered himself so that his cheek rested in your palm. It was cold.

“You’re cold.” You stated blankly.

“I’m fine.” He protested.

You pulled him into your bed. Seconds later, you stretched out your arms. With a sob of relief, Sirius fell into your embrace. He cried silently into your neck for a while, reminiscent of the time you helped him as a kid, except this time you were both much bigger. You pet his hair affectionately, a tear sliding from your eye. “I missed you so much. I’m so, so in love with you. You don’t even need to love me back. I just… need this.” He said, voice muffled as he presses his face into your shoulder.

“…I never stopped loving you.” You admit, pulling him in closer.

~~~

You both spoke through the night, smiling and laughing and talking, telling secrets and jokes and all of the inbetween. He was so beautiful in the dim light of the lamp in your dorm. He was so beautiful anywhere. “You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, sounding lovesick and dazed. You laughed softly. “You don’t even know how beautiful you are. But that doesn’t matter to me.” You kiss his forehead, before pulling back and looking deep into his eyes. “You are good.” He practically melts into you.

Sirius falls asleep safe in the crook of your arm, and you fall asleep with one arm under him and the other around his waist, with the peace of mind that you can protect him always, now. Your boy. Your Siri.

You looked down at him, running your fingers through the roots of his hair. He moans lowly in satisfaction, practically purring as he presses himself against you. “Now we can get married: with Reggie as the best man, just like we dreamed. With a pretty house and a four-poster bed.” You said, a sweet, hopeful smile gracing your lips.

“Mmmh.” Sirius groaned sleepily. “As long as we can christen that bed.” He added, eyes still closed, with that stupid Sirius Black smirk on his face. You scoff, hugging him closer, before falling asleep yourself.

~~~

(Please don’t copy or share any of my writing anywhere else!!)

[chaosandmarigolds]

Festival

based on this AMAZING ask!!

“Oi, Olls,” Simon looks down at the skinned arm and then back to the utterly unaffected five-year-old (who just took a rather nasty tumble off the slide). It was an easy back day at the county fair, which for the record he thought was a horrible idea with a five-month old yet Johnny said it would be fun for Oliver and his niece, Jane. Simon tried to get a good look at the wound, covered in dirt and pebbles, “Lad lemme-”

“Dad-dad, I got go- Janie! Wait up!” Oliver snipped in reply, pulling his arm away and trying to take off after his new friend, and he succeeded, taking off to the next ride wait line- where Jane was already standing among the groups of children and teens with the bright red balloon tied to her wrist. 

Of course, he watched the boy run through the crowds and only stood to direct his gaze to Johnny as he stood up, not saying anything but trying to see past the groups to get a good look at the kids- but he could see the red balloon. 

“Think the girls are havin fun?” Johnny asked, leaning onto the stroller. 

To that Simon shrugged looking down to Tess, who was thankfully very much asleep amidst the loud noises, “‘m sure they are.” 

“Shoppin, wine tasting annnn,” Johnny faltered as he thought, looking to the sky as Simon knelt down to fix the baby blanket. Though it was loud and the crowds were bustling it still had a sense of peace about it, small town, small fair but it was enough to make the two kids feel as if they were teleported to the best place on the planet. “An’- gah, Sarah said somethin else, can’t ‘member what though.” 

“Jus gettin dolled up or somethin,” Simon mumbled under his breath and then placed a chaste kiss against the baby’s forehead before standing up to his full height, looking around for the same bright red balloon. 

Only…the balloon was floating away. 

It took about five strides to get from where he had been to the line where Olly and Jane were supposed to be, yet there was a stunning lack of them both. 

He must have called the kid's names twice before Johnny had caught on to what was going on, yet the only thing Simon could think of doing was telling him to go get security, he asked the people if they had seen them- his voice harsh and causing the looks on the parent's face’s to pale. 

He couldn’t find them. 

No one seemed to even see them. 

“A little boy- he’s missin his front tooth, striped shirt with a dinosaur on it.”

   “I’m sorry man, that sounds like every kid I’ve seen today.” 

… 

“Jane,” Ollie said slowly following his friend reluctantly through the corridors of the ‘haunted house’ which they had snuck in through the back, since there was a thirteen-plus age restriction on the attraction, “Janie I reaaaalllly don’t think this is good idea.” 

To that the four-year-old frowns, her pigtails swinging as she looks at him, the blue light and fog doing nothing to ease his fears, “Uncle Johnny always say we got face fears! An you said you are scared of the scary ghosts.”

“Scary is literally in name, Janie!” Ollie countered crossing his arms, “Uncle Johnny and my dad are gonna be mad.” 

Jane shook her head, clawing up on the ladder to reach the main level, “Uncle Johnny doesn’t get mad at me, mum said it’s cus ‘m cute…Uncle Simon might get mad though.” 

Ollie frowned from his spot, looking up at her as she began to disappear from the view, he couldn’t leave her alone, he was older than her and his dad did ask him to look over her. So, he swallowed down his fear and followed behind her, the steam and fog making it a bit hard to see for a moment before he was able to stand up again- the lights dim and red and the floor underneath them seemed to be uneasy, red liquid smeared along the rotted wood and the low groan of something was enough to make him want to cry. 

However Janie was walking forward, so he quickly followed, moving to walk just a bit in front of her- grabbing her hand and doing his best to act brave when in reality he was not. 

Ollie stopped walking when they heard a voice from behind, and he turned to look around for a split second, only for Jane to let out a shrill scream and he turned his head to look ahead again- to only mimic her scream. Shoving her behind himself as what seemed to be a literal monster jumped from behind a barrel. 

“Oh SHIT! CUT IT!!” 

A voice suddenly yelled, and then the monster ripped off the mask, revealing a normal-looking kid, probably sixteen, “Whoa-hey-hey, you guys- JERRY FUCKIN CUT THE LIGHTS.” The kid screamed at the ceiling for a moment for the overhead lights to flicker back on and the noises stopped. 

“Hey,” The kid knelt down to look at the now sobbing children, “Hey, my name is Kyle. How’d ya-oh cmon…it’s okay, I’m not scary.” 

“You-you ghost!” Ollie screamed. 

“No! No, it’s just a costume, ya know on how on halloween you dress up? I’m jus dressing up, I’m not gonna-oh okay, you’re crying…again, okay…” Kyle tried to explain, then looking to his coworker, Margo who was dressed as a zombie, utterly hopeless about the now two screaming and sobbing toddlers.

…

“Called security,” Margo huffs out as she sits down to look at the toddlers, who were much more relaxed once they offered slushies, and she looks to Kyle, “They said two creepy guys said they lost their kids but thought they were lyin.” 

Kyle frowns and leans back in his chair after he and Margo had made a lazy attempt at cleaning off their makeup and explained to the kids it seemed to calm them down, plus the slushies of course. “Hey kiddo, can you tell me your name? So the nice people-

“My dad says to not talk to strangers.” 

Margo gives the kid a look and leans forward on the table, “He’s smart, that’s smart- but we need to-” 

“Margo-” 

“OLIVER.” 

It would be an understatement to say Kyle and Margo picked those kids up within a millisecond, because what they saw were two men that could break them both in half within a second and who did not look like father material walking towards them. 

“That’s my kid.” One of them barked out, pointing to the little boy, who was just happily sipping his slushy. 

Kyle scoffs, “And I’m the fucking king of England.”

To that Margo tried to then play damage control, “Listen, I don’t want to have to call sec-” 

“Uncle Johnny we saw scary ghost!!” The little girl exclaimed happily. 

“See? That’s my niece and the boys mine. Give me my kid.”

Margo and Kyle exchanged looks and then looked to the little boy, who only caught on when he saw the man’s look and he nodded eagerly, messy hair falling in front of his face. 

“That’s Ister Riley he and my mom are married. He’s my dad.”

… 

“I jus wanna be brave ‘ike you Uncle Johnny,” Jane said as they drove home, still sipping her oversized slushie. 

Johnny and Simon had agreed to not mention this, to act like it never happened, for their sake. “I know, princess, an’ yer so so brave.” 

“I no longer scared of ghosts.” Ollie said mindlessly, staring out the window. 

That caught Simon’s attention and he looked back through the rearview mirror, checking on Tess with a quick glance and then to Olliver, “Oi? Yeah?”

“Mmmhm, cause ghosts are jus nice people wearin costumes.”

(annnnyway that's it!! feedback and comments are the easiest way to let me know you liked my work!! thanks to everyone for their support!)

[likeumeanit9497]

i read ‘wanna see’ and it was so good i was wondering if you could ever make a part 2 to it?

keep crying baby | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

a (sorta) part two to wanna see?

summary: y/n and chris have been caught up in a tumultuous situationship with one another for a few months. y/n is fed up with chris' toxic behaviour and knows that she needs to stop, but why can't she?

warnings: smut; oral (fem receiving); p in v (unprotected eek); toxic chris; established fwb; alcohol consumption; dirty talk; choking; hair pulling; 18+

notes: a lot of u seemed to luv wanna see? and i was lowkey inspired to write a toxic chris fic after i heard him say "keep crying baby" on stream the other day (oop) soooo i decided to combine those two ideas into one and this is the outcome of that!! i hope y'all enjoy luv uuuuuuu

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Walking into the party, I was immediately welcomed by loud music and the heat of bodies everywhere. Tonight I was once again going to a friend’s birthday party, and my eyes immediately scanned across the room in an attempt to find her. I had arrived late because I had been taking care of my sick roommate, Bree, and felt so guilty for missing so much of her night already.

Still scanning the house, I began walking towards the kitchen to find some drinks. Everyone around me was already clearly fucked up, and I knew I had some catching up to do. I grabbed a bottle of tequila that was sitting on the kitchen counter and poured myself a line of three shots to take back-to-back, a trick that had become sort of a habit for me. Just as I brought the first shot glass to my lips, a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks.

“There you are.” His voice was low, I could barely hear it above the loud music, but I could feel the heat of his breath brush against my ear. I stayed silent and took the first shot, wincing as the liquid burned my throat. “I’m sober Chris.” I deadpanned before grabbing the second shot, and I heard him chuckle behind me. “So?” He replied as I brought the second shot glass to my lips, tilting my head back and swallowing the tequila. “If my memory is correct, the last time I saw you we were not on good terms. Therefore I’m too sober to deal with you right now.” He laughed again, this time putting a hand on my lower back and rubbing it gently. “Alright. Let’s see how long you last this time.” He said into my ear one last time before the heat of his body against mine was replaced by a cold emptiness and I was once again alone.

I rolled my eyes before taking the third and final shot in front of me, needing the liquor more now than ever before. Ever since that first time we fucked at his birthday party, Chris and I had been involved in a sort of complicated relationship. I use the word relationship here lightly, as really the bottom line is that we were really just fucking, and usually only ever when we were drunk. The sex was good, but it was creating a sort of toxicity in our friendship that wasn’t there before.

Even though we both agreed that it was nothing more than sex and that our love for each other was strictly platonic, I have learned that Chris has a habit of becoming possessive of whoever he’s fucking at the moment. I can’t lie, this dominance is fun while we’re having sex, but outside of the bedroom it did nothing but cause problems. If he saw me even in the same vicinity of another man, he would do everything in his power to scare him off. The toxicity was so addictive, but each time I had a run in with him I felt myself lose more and more of my self control. I hated that I had let him dig his claws into me, and I despised the fact that he knew how dick whipped I was.

Sucking on a lime, I shuddered both from the liquor sitting heavy in my stomach and my thoughts of Chris, and decided to do a thorough walk through of the house to finally find my friend.

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I reached for my phone in my back pocket, and through my blurry vision I saw the time read 1:43. I had been at the party for hours, and had spent the entire time drinking. Once I had found my friend, I had to pour us a round — or four — of tequila shots, and I had gone through a half dozen of the coolers in the fridge. Even though it was late, the house was still flooded with people. Each room was overflowing with bodies, and I had stumbled into the living room to take a seat and lay off the drinking before I reached the point of no return.

I flopped my body lazily on an empty couch cushion, and as I did I accidentally landed partially on a person sitting to my left. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” I slurred, turning my spinning head to acknowledge the guy. There was a deep chuckle, and once my eyes focused I discovered that I was face-to-face with a beautiful stranger. “Don’t worry about it.” I watched his full lips as he spoke, and resisted the urge to drool once he ran his tongue across his lower lip. Drunk and disoriented, I stayed completely silent as I stared blankly at his gorgeous face. “You okay?” He asked, pulling me from my trance. I nodded quickly. “Sorry yeah, what’s your name?” I asked, attempting to straighten myself out to look as presentable as possible. He smiled, his teeth pearly-white and straight. “I’m Benny. What’s yours?” I returned his smile and fixed my hair before reaching out my hand in an embarrassingly formal way. “I’m Y/n.” He looked at my ridiculous outstretched hand for a beat before taking it in his and shaking it quickly.

“You’re beautiful.” He said with a smirk, keeping my hand interlocked with his but letting it rest against my bare leg. Blushing, I adjusted in my seat and struggled to force myself to maintain eye contact. “So are you.” I replied shamelessly, taking in his sharp jawline and bright green eyes. “You here with anyone tonight?” He asked, shifting slightly closer to me. I shook my head and batted my eyelashes slightly, causing him to send me a pleased smile as he wrapped his free arm around my shoulder against the couch; using his hand that rested on my leg to brush against my skin.

Just then, I allowed my eyes to leave his and take a quick glance around the room, only for them to fall on the figure sitting in the chair directly across from me.

There was Chris, slouched nonchalantly in the chair with his legs spread and a beer sitting in his lap. There was a girl sitting beside him, enthusiastically talking to him as he stared straight at me. Everything about his outward demeanour seemed relaxed and confident, but his clenched jaw and flaring nostrils told me all I needed to know about what was going on inside his head.

His eyes burned into mine for what felt like an eternity, and my gaze was only pulled from him by Benny’s voice, distant in my ears. “Let’s go take a shot.” He began lifting himself from the couch, pulling gently at my arm as he did. “Uh, sure.” I replied tentatively, not sure that I should take another shot but also not really wanting my interaction with him to be over so quickly. I stood up on wobbly legs and he smiled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders lazily and leading me out of the living room and into the kitchen.

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Once we were standing in the kitchen, I sent Bree a quick text to check on how she was feeling as I allowed Benny to pour me a second shot. “For you, Y/n.” My eyes lifted off the screen and met his as he handed me the overflowing shot glass with a lime wedge on top, and I felt my stomach lurch at the thought of consuming anymore alcohol. “Uh, Benny, I don’t know if I should be taking a shot right now.” My voice was so slurred that even my own ears were shocked, and I used my free hand to hold onto the countertop as I felt myself spin.

“Aw come on, you can do it.” He replied in a pouty voice, placing a hand on my hip and pulling me against him harshly. “I want to tell my friends I took a shot with the hottest girl at this party.” He smirked and I felt my cheeks blush slightly, knowing that if I was sober I would have found that line horrendous but I was clearly drunk enough to be flattered. “Can I take a smaller shot then?” I asked, knowing that I shouldn’t test my limits. He shook his head with a twinkle in his eye. “Nuh-uh. Half shots aren’t real shots. Come on, if you were really too drunk you wouldn’t be worried about taking just one more.”

He lifted his shot glass to mine, resting dormant in my limp hand. Maybe he was right, I had been more drunk than I was right now, and that level of drunk-me would absolutely not question whether or not I should take another shot. So, I tentatively lifted my glass to cheers against his, and slowly brought it towards my lips while keeping my eyes locked on his. Just as I went to tilt my head back and swallow the tequila, I watched as his eyes suddenly flicked from mine to something slightly behind me, and then continued to watch as his brow furrowed in confusion as a hand came from behind me and grabbed the shot glass out of my hand.

“What the fuck, bro?” Benny’s tone had suddenly shifted to one much angrier than the one he had been using with me before, and his face had contorted into one of complete disgust, and it sort of scared me. I didn’t have to turn around to know who was responsible for this disruption, especially once I felt his familiar touch on my waist. “Oh I’m sorry, didn’t she just tell you that she didn’t want to take this shot?” Chris’ words came out smooth and relaxed, but they had a slightly menacing edge to them that made the hair on the back of my neck shoot up. My eyes still glued to Benny, I watched as he put his shot glass down and crossed his arms. “Pretty sure it’s none of your fucking business, motherfucker.” He spat, and I stiffened from the heavy silence that followed.

Chris was right up against me, and I felt his chest rise and fall rapidly and knew that he was trying to keep himself calm. His grip on my waist tightened as he worked on regaining his composure, and without even turning around I knew his eyes were burning into Benny’s just my the hesitant expression on his face. Finally, the torturous silence was broken by a gruff chuckle behind me. “You do this often, huh? Feed girls shot after shot until their vision becomes blurry enough to find you just a little bit attractive? That won’t work on Y/n.” I opened my mouth to protest but was cut off immediately by Chris’ booming voice. “She’s a party girl, and likes having a good time so she rarely turns down the opportunity to take a shot. So the fact that she tried to turn one down from you means one of two things: either she knows you’re a creep, or she knows that you would never be able to show her a good time the way that I can.”

My mouth dropped at his words, and I watched as Benny’s darkened eyes flashed between me and Chris. I tried to unscramble my mind and come up with something to say, but I was so shocked by the conversation that I couldn’t find the words. There had been a part of me that had been relieved to feel Chris behind me moments ago, but that relief had been replaced by sheer anger at Chris once again getting in the middle of my personal life in a way he never did before we started fucking. Just as I was about to turn around and push him away, Chris grabbed my arm and pulled me away. “You’re coming with me right now, Y/n.” He growled.

I was pulled through the house and towards the first floor washroom, where Chris pushed me in and locked the door behind us. I turned to face him, fists clenched at my sides and armed with a plethora of insults to shoot at him, but I couldn’t get anything out. He stood in front of me, chest heaving under his plain black tank top. His blue eyes looked like they could belong to a wild animal, the way they were frantically scanning my face. His cheeks were flushed slightly, presumably from the adrenaline of once again freeing his possessive side in front of another man. I looked at all of these parts of him, and I knew that if I hadn’t drank half as much as I did that I would have immediately shut down his toxic behaviour. But in the state of mind that the tequila had put me in, all I could see were flashes of him pinning me down, leaving marks all across my skin, whispering dirty phrases into my ear, and all of the other forms of his possession that never failed to draw me back to him.

“You need to stop doing that.” I finally managed to get out, my throat suddenly feeling excruciatingly dry. A small smile threatened to appear across his mouth before he responded. “Do what?” His voice sounded much more innocent than it had just moments before. “Cock blocking me.” I replied simply, crossing my arms over my chest. He tilted his head to the side cheekily. “I was just doing you a favour. That kid would definitely fuck like a dead fish.” I shoved his shoulder and gasped at his choice of words. “Chris! This isn’t funny. I told you this the last time. You need to stop acting like you own me every chance you get. I’m so sick of it. I’m not tied down to you, you’re not tied down to me. We’ve fucked a few times, so what? I’m allowed to do whatever I want with whoever I want, and I don’t need your approval. As a matter of fact, I actually remember telling you that the last time really was the last time, that we can’t do this anymore. And I meant it, okay? No more.”

Satisfied with my drunken rant, I allowed myself to take a deep breath and gather my composure to prepare to walk out of the washroom and back to Benny. Closing my eyes for a moment to wait for my heart rate to decrease, my moment of serenity was interrupted by Chris. “You’re sure about that?” My eyes shot open, ready to go on another slurred tangent, when Chris gestured to his shoulder. There was my hand that I had used to shove him moments ago, resting against his soft tank top, rubbing it softly. “You’re really sure you don’t want to do this anymore?” His tone was soft, but he had a knowing look in his eyes as his hands found my waist once again and pulled me against him.

As soon as my body was pressed against his and he gazed down at me affectionately, I felt that familiar combination of excitement and uncertainty that always came from his touch. He raised his eyebrows, wordlessly telling me that he was waiting for my response, but my words were failing me as my mind became clouded with thoughts of him. “What’s wrong baby?” He cooed, taking his hand and running it along the curve of my ass. “Having second thoughts?” I couldn’t shake the fuzzy feeling in my mind, and the heat that was growing in between my legs wasn’t helping at all. Against all better judgment, I brought my free hand up to his other shoulder and wrapped my arms around his neck. I stared up at him wordlessly for a few moments, my hands thoughtlessly playing with the ends of his hair as I once again lost all self control.

I stood up on my tip toes, making it so that our noses were centimetres apart. I felt his breath against my own mouth, and continued to contemplate as his hands engulfed my ass. Chris’ mouth moved towards mine, where it barely brushed my lips before I pulled away. His hand travelled up my body and to my cheek, where he used his thumb to stroke it softly. His thumb moved from my cheek down to my lower lip, where his eyes never left, and he pulled it down slightly and watched as it popped back up on release. He brought his lips to mine again, pressing them there ever so lightly as if to test the waters.

No matter how many times I tried to tell myself otherwise, I could never resist the temptation of Chris. Ever since that first time a few months ago, it was like no other sex could ever compare. Even though his behaviour pissed me off, I knew that it was never going to make it possible for me to resist him. Ever since it got a taste, my body never stopped craving his, and tonight was no exception.

Finally, I allowed my lips to crash against his, and he immediately worked his tongue into my mouth in an act of dominance. Our mouths moved in sync as the kiss deepened, and I released a breathy gasp as he pinned me against the washroom door. As we kissed, Chris brought a hand to my shirt and pulled it up over my tits so that they were completely exposed. Grabbing one in his hand, a quiet moan escaped his lips as he ran a thumb against my sensitive nipple. His mouth moved down to my neck, where he used a lethal combination of suction and biting to leave what was sure to be deep purple bruises along my sensitive skin.

Once his lips latched back onto mine, I felt his hand slip into my leather pants and cup my heat. His lips turned up in a smile against my own. “Hmm, who got you this wet princess?” I gulped for air as the very tip of his finger trailed along my already dripping slit. “Y-you Chris.” I replied, my brain on auto pilot. He chuckled before retracting his hands from my pants. “That’s what I thought.”

Suddenly, he lifted me into the air and my legs immediately wrapped around his waist as he continued to fervently kiss me. I felt him place me delicately on the sink, and I wrapped my arms around his neck to keep his mouth on mine. Still having complete control over our tempo, he used his mouth to slow the motion of our kiss down tremendously. Still just as deep as before, our lips moved in a lumbering pace as he pressed his bulge against my core. Unable to help myself, I released a soft whine in frustration as my heat began to pulsate. “Tell me what you want, Y/n.” Chris whispered against my lips, maintaining the feverishly slow pace of the kiss. “W-want you to make me feel good.” I replied in a squeaky voice, nearly panting from the anticipation.

“Hmm. That’s what I thought.” He said, pulling his mouth away from me and staring down at me with glazed over eyes. He didn’t make me beg anymore before he unbuckled my pants and pulled them — along with my thong — down my legs, and dropped to his knees. He grabbed my shins and pulled my legs apart, leaving my pussy completely exposed and in his sightline. “Looks so pretty like this baby, so wet for me. Can’t wait to taste it.” He took a moment to admire my heat before bringing his mouth down just to the side of where I needed him the most.

My hips bucked up in anticipation as he worked his mouth against my inner thigh, frustrated that he was teasing me when I was so turned on that it almost hurt. After what felt like forever, he inched his mouth closer and closer to my cunt at a snail speed, and I watched — mouth agape — at his fluttering eyelashes and small sprinkle of freckles along his nose as he finally made contact with my aching core. My hands immediately flew to his hair, fisting the curls at the nape of his neck to hold him in place as his tongue drilled against my clit.

“Mmm yeah baby, please, just like that.” I slurred as his mouth worked its magic on me. He released occasional hums against my bundle of nerves, which provided a new sensation that caused my eyes to roll to the back of my head. Chris maintained the same amount of speed and pressure with his tongue, and him and I both knew that it wouldn’t take him long to get me to my orgasm.

With a taunting finger, Chris ran circles around my hole, causing me to shift my hips in delirium. He knew that doing this drove me crazy, and when he finally used his fingers to fill me up, I released a guttural moan that echoed through the small washroom. His pumping fingers never missed my g-spot, and my dripping arousal caused our ears to fill with a wet sucking sound. “Oh god,” I began, trembling from the unmistakable feeling building up in my lower stomach. “Oh fuck, gonna cum Chrissy.” I managed to get out as my mind began to unravel. Chris moaned against my pussy but maintained his pace, pushing me over the edge. Suddenly, a violent orgasm washed over me, causing my grip on his hair to tighten and my back to arch. As it rolled through me, a plethora of incoherent phrases left my lips as I lost complete control over myself, and Chris didn’t stop his merciless actions until I felt the gush of my release against his mouth and down his chin.

After placing a soft kiss against my sensitive bud, Chris got on his feet in front of me and fumbled with his own pants. I watched as my chest heaved, feeling like I had lost my mind, as he pulled his boxers down and exposed his cock — its size still never failing to startle me. He positioned himself between my open legs, and I watched with hungry eyes as he grabbed his hard dick and pressed it firmly against my needy core. “You want this?” His voice was in my ear as he tauntingly slid his member through my soaked folds. I swallowed, unable to take my eyes off of his length, and nodded. Suddenly, he used his free hand to land a sharp slap to my thigh. “Y/n, we’ve talked about this. Use your words.” I looked up at him through my fluttering eyelashes apologetically. “I-I want your cock.” I said, my words shaky and laced with desperation. They brought a dark smile to Chris’ lips, however, and it didn’t take him long to slam his hips into mine; filling my cunt with every inch of him.

His size still shocking, I practically screamed as my walls moulded around him. With each of his powerful thrusts into me, I couldn’t help but release loud moans from the combination of pleasure and pain. Even in my fucked out state, I was aware of the dozens of people just on the other side of the door, and I used my own hand to cover my mouth in an attempt to stifle the uncontrollable sounds from slipping out of it. Chris’ eyes were watching his member slide in and out of me in awe, before they trailed up my body and back onto my face. Noticing my hand over my mouth, he grabbed it and pried it off; holding it firmly in his own against the counter top.

“No no, keep crying baby. Want everyone to hear how good I make you feel.” His words scrambled my brain into an aroused mess, and I did as he said and allowed sobs of pleasure to fall from my lips as he continued to pound into me relentlessly. “S-so g-good Chris.” I murmured, digging my nails into his back as his head dropped onto my shoulder. He released occasional grunts as he rolled his hips against mine, and the vocal confirmation of his pleasure was like music to my ears.

Suddenly, Chris pulled his dick out of me and I gasped at the shock that came from the loss of contact. He kept his head resting against my shoulder for a moment as his breath hitched, and I was wondering if he already finished when he finally pulled himself up and planted a deep kiss on my swollen lips. “Off the counter.” He commanded, voice raspy with lust. I did as I was told, still in a trance, before he grabbed my shoulders and spun me around so that I was now facing the sink. I saw a glance of myself in the mirror and came face-to-face with a girl who was practically unrecognizable. Eyes wild, lips puffy, and hair in shambles, it was like I caught a glimpse of the alternate version of me that just couldn’t get enough of the toxicity that was Chris.

Before I could spend anymore time staring at the girl in the mirror, Chris grabbed a fistful of my hair and used his grip to bend me over the sink. Using his other hand to encourage my legs apart, he wasted no time in sliding his cock back in my soaked cunt. Through the mirror, his eyes drilled into me and the intensity that it brought was overwhelming. His blue eyes were blown out, and his jaw was tense as if he was boiling over in anger. The new position that he had put me in provided me with a new sensation, and being bent over allowed him to have easier access to my g-spot; which he hit with precision on each thrust. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me like this, Y/n.” Chris growled, and I moaned in acknowledgment.

“Who’s pussy is this?” He asked in a demanding tone, and my eyes flashed to his in the mirror. I felt my second orgasm bubbling up inside me, and my words were nowhere to be found. In my silence, Chris slapped my ass hard — sure to leave a dark red mark — before asking again. “Y/n, tell me who’s pussy this is.” Even though I didn’t think it was possible, Chris began pounding his hips into me even harder and faster, doing everything he could to draw the answer from my lips. “Y-yours. It’s yours C-Chris.” I screamed out after he slapped my ass once more, and I watched through droopy eyelids as he smirked at me through the mirror before grabbing my throat and pulling me up to him.

“That’s right,” He began, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses against my neck. “This is my fucking pussy. Don’t forget that princess.” He drove his hips up into me unforgivingly, and once he reached his fingers around my body and began rubbing my clit, I felt my legs weaken as my orgasm began taking over. “Oh yeah baby, feel so good with your walls milking me like that. Go on, make a mess.” He spoke his filthy words right into my ear, and my body took them as verbal permission as my second orgasm swept me off my feet. I felt myself go limp, and lost all of my senses as my body was hit with relentless waves of pleasure. Chris never stopped pounding into me, and as my arousal dripped down his legs he pressed my lethargic body back down onto the counter.

Overstimulated, I continued to cry out as Chris slammed in and out of me; chasing his own high. My body felt simultaneously lifeless and reactive, and I gripped tightly to the countertop as I struggled to keep myself from sliding to the floor. “Oh fuck, baby, I’m close.” Chris muttered, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before shooting open and once again landing on mine in the mirror. “I’m gonna cum inside you, and you’re gonna take all of it like a good girl. Okay?” His words were choppy, and he was visibly struggling to maintain his composure, but still I nodded frantically. “O-okay, fill me up baby.” I moaned out, feeling the pressure of one final overstimulated orgasm take over me.

My body broke out into convulsions as I came, the lack of down-time between this one and my last causing my nerves to feel like they might explode. As I rode out my final high, Chris’ hips suddenly stilled and, as he released a throaty moan, I felt his cock twitch inside of me; shooting his warm cum against my walls. I watched his euphoric expression in the mirror as he finished —jaw slack, eyes fluttered shut; muscles flexed — before his eyes opened once again and he bent down to place a gentle kiss on the small of my back.

After giving us both a moment to catch our breaths, Chris slowly pulled his cock out of my raw core; causing me to wince slightly. He walked over to grab the roll of toilet paper and used it to clean me and then him as I pressed my forehead against the cool counter top. As I rested there for a moment, regaining my conscious mind, I was filled with the all-too-familiar feeling of confliction. Once again, I had encouraged Chris’ possessive behaviour by sleeping with him, but fuck, it had felt so good. This had been happening for weeks, and each time it did it had ended the same way it did tonight.

I let out a groan in frustration, and Chris chuckled under his breath. “Something wrong?” He asked, and I lifted my head off the counter and looked at him through the mirror. “We cannot keep doing this Chris.” I mumbled, straightening myself up to fix my hair and makeup. Chris sighed as he pulled his pants back up. “I don’t understand what the problem is. You clearly enjoyed yourself just now.” His voice was arrogant, and I rolled my eyes. “The problem is not the sex, Chris. The problem is I’m not yours, and you don’t seem to get that.” He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, watching as I slowly began putting my clothes back on.

“Y/n, I know you’re not mine, and I’m fine with that. But that doesn’t mean I want you to be anyone else’s.” He paused for a moment with a bold glint in his eyes before continuing. “Now hurry up and get dressed. Matt’s coming to pick me up soon and you’re coming home with me. I’m not leaving you here with that weirdo fuck.” He didn’t wait for me to respond before opening the door just enough to slide his body through, leaving me alone in the bathroom. And once again — as if my body had detached from my brain — I buttoned up my pants, pulled my shirt back down, and followed him out the door; sending Bree a quick text letting her know I wouldn’t be home tonight.

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[xxblairexxss]

Breaking news

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x girlfriend!reader

Your Instagram story caused a commotion amongst the fans

ynusername has added to their story

ynusername has added to their story

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

You had connected the call to your car so you could talk to him while driving home because you didn’t know if you could see the hair saloon again without crying even more. You put on the signal before turning the steering wheel as you sobbed, your boyfriend’s question left hanging in the air.

“Are you okay? Where are you? Do you want me to pick you up?”

“N– no, I’m already on my way back.” You sobbed again.

“Want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“Yes– yes, please. I can’t stop crying!” You wailed and looked at the rear view mirror before switching lane.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. I don’t know what happened but as long as you are already on your way back, it’ll be fine.”

Soon as you took off your sneakers, Charles opened the door and pulled you into a hug. You were no longer crying because you had accepted your fate at this point.

“Are you hurt? What happened?”

Breaking the hug, you took a step back, your bottom lips jutting out.

“What? Baby, talk to me. What happened?”

You twirled and cried out. “They cut my hair too short! How can you not see it!”

Charles’s breathe was stuck in his throat. He had been walking back and forth, waiting for you to come back home wondering if the worst thing happened. This, wasn’t in any of those thoughts he had in mind.

“You were crying because they cut your hair too short?” His voice trailed off as he stared at you in disbelief.

“I have never had my hair this short before!”

“You were crying because of this?”

You glowered at his question and paced to the room, leaving him alone while he was still in incredulity. He didn’t even realise there was any changes to your hair because as soon as he saw you, his eyes went to scan on your body for any injuries or maybe some bruises. It never occurred to him it would be something lighter than the all the scenarios he had in his head.

“Baby? You wanna talk about it?” Charles walked in and grinned, trying to act as if he couldn’t see the glare from you.

“I asked them to trim it shorter but not this short, just slightly around my chest but they just cut it right away and I was too scared to say anything.”

“You still look beautiful though.” He could still see the little dots of tears hanging on your lashes as he stared at you in admiration.

“Liar! You are only saying that to make me feel better.”

“I swear! You look beautiful. Trust me.” He tilted your face to look at him and smiled as he studied your face. “See? You’ll always be beautiful, baby. Even if one day you decide to be bald, I’m still gonna find you beautiful.”

“I hate you.”

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes and 225,637 others

ynusername how it started vs how it ended

charles_leclerc Still the prettiest girl ever ❤️

username1 new hairrr?!?!

username2 girl we need story time

username3 you should have seen twitter and gossip pages. they went WILD 😂😂

username4 i don’t get it?? someone explain

username5 ppls thought something happened to the couple but they seem to be doing fine 🥰

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 378,845 others

ynusername Smiling through the pain :)

charles_leclerc The most beautiful girl 😍

username1 GIRL YOU SLAY THE HAIRSTYLE

username2 drop dead gorgeous

francisca.cgomes literally suits you so much 🫶🏻🩷

username3 what do you mean. you look STUNNINGGG 😍😍

charles_leclerc

Liked by ynusername, pierregasly and 1,507,6739 others

charles_leclerc prettiest in long and short hair. any hairstyle, basically 🩷

ynusername i love youuuu! 🥹 Thank you for taking me out on a dinner date to make me feel better ❤️🥹

username1 FAV COUPLE IS STILL GOING STRONG

username2 i thought they broke up 😭😭😭

username3 tell y/n to never do that again

username4 i’m not gonna believe in love anymore if they ever broke up 💔

username5 oh to have my bf take me out on a date after i cut my hair too short 😔

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! 😭 Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

[navybrat817]

Sundresses and Leather

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Your first date with Bucky doesn't go as planned, but that makes it all the more special. Word Count: Over 4.7k Warnings: First date, tension, flirting, brief moments of insecurity, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. Previous Part of AU: Sweet and Strong A/N: More Hottie and Sugar from our Sin on Skin AU. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Tonight was the night. You were going out with Bucky Barnes. Excited for the date was a bit of an understatement. You may have told a few customers you had a date when they wished you a good day.

Thank God they were mostly regulars and seemed happy on my behalf.

"Maybe a sundress isn't nice enough," you told Tess, regretting the words the moment they left your mouth. She didn’t need to deal with you and your overthinking. Again.

"It's plenty nice. You’re going to look amazing,” she argued, going to check on the next batch of cookies. “And he can lift the skirt and bury his-"

"I thought you said I didn't have to get laid on my first date with him," you cut her off.

"You don't have to, but the visual alone will give him something for his spank bank later."

"Thank you for the vote of confidence," you smiled, but it quickly faltered.

You weren’t sure why a cloud drifted over your sunny disposition. Bucky was a good guy, a far cry from Richard. Gorgeous, kind, hardworking, the whole package. There was chemistry between the two of you that went beyond mere attraction. Maybe it was the fact that you were falling hard and fast for him that suddenly made you so nervous. You didn’t want to scare him away.

But he said he couldn’t stop thinking about me and he wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it.

Tess gave you a pointed look. “Stop overthinking. I’m begging you.”

“I’m not trying to,” you sighed, your nerves almost tempting you to grab a treat from the case. “What if I fall on my face?”

“Like Bucky would let you hit the ground. Even if you do stumble, that’s life. It isn’t going to change the fact that he likes you,” she said as you helped her with the cookies. You still had work to do. “The guy said he can’t get you off his mind and to text him whenever you want. He does not strike me as the type to just say those things and I know he doesn’t strike you as that type either.”

It took a moment, but your smile came back. She was right. Life wasn’t perfect and you were far from it, but Bucky liked you just as you are. Tonight would be unforgettable no matter what.

“I appreciate the pep talk,” you said, thankful that she told you what you needed to hear. “I’ll even tell you the dirty details if anything happens.”

“Hell yeah, you will. Remember, at this point, I’m living vicariously through you until I find my own hunk,” she winked. “But I mean it. Have fun tonight and get your man.”

I will.

After your shift, you rushed to change for your date. You somehow managed to arrive a few minutes early outside of Bucky's shop and took a deep breath to get yourself under control. Catching your reflection in the window, you smiled before you turned away. Since Bucky hadn’t given you any hint for what you were doing, you chose your nicest sundress and kept your makeup minimal. You looked and felt beautiful, though you wished you would’ve brought a jacket with you.

Maybe Bucky will let me borrow his if he has one.

“Holy shit.”

You spun around when you heard Bucky’s voice behind you, your heart fluttering as he met you on the sidewalk. Instead of the jeans you usually saw him in, he wore khakis, a button up shirt, and a blue blazer that matched his eyes. He had his hair down, perfectly parted on the right side. You were so busy staring at the broad, handsome man that it took you a moment to realize he was trying to hand you something.

Flowers.

“Sorry. You just… wow,” he said as you took the small bouquet, sweeping his gaze over you as your cheeks grew warm. “You look so beautiful.”

You giggled and quickly covered your mouth with your hand, butterflies in your stomach when he gently smiled. “Don’t apologize,” you smiled back, taking a moment to smell the flowers. “You look pretty ‘holy shit’ yourself.”

His nose scrunched as he laughed and offered you his hand. “So, you’re telling me I clean up well. Steve insisted on the blazer when I said I wanted to bring my leather jacket.”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Though I wouldn’t have minded the leather jacket,” you said. He would’ve looked gorgeous, as always. “And thank you for suggesting we meet here. We had a last minute order and I was scrambling."

"It's no problem. One of my clients was running a few minutes late and I almost had to take you out in jeans."

"I wouldn't have minded," you said. You both worked hard and understood that things would come up from time to time. "So, where are we headed?"

He cleared his throat as he led you to his car. “Well, do you want the good news or the bad news?”

Your stomach dropped a little. “Mmm. Bad news first,” you said after a moment. “Always better to end on a high note.”

“Bad news was I had planned to take you out on my motorcycle so we could have a picnic in the park. There was going to be live music and I would’ve asked you to dance,” he explained, looking up at the sky. “But…”

“The weather called for a storm tonight, didn’t it?” you mused, a wistful smile on your face when he nodded. The image of being in his arms under the stars as music drifted through the air made your heart skip a beat. It sounded like the perfect evening.

“Yeah. The band is rescheduling,” he said, tucking his hair behind his ear as he looked at the ground. “Then I thought I could take you to this art gallery nearby. They normally have these stunning paintings of landscapes and various statues, but the current exhibit is on human sexuality and reproduction. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but maybe it was too much for a first date.”

“Oh, come on. It couldn’t have been that bad,” you argued as he stopped and took out his phone.

“No?” he asked, tapping his screen before he showed you what you assumed was the page for the gallery.

“…That’s a giant dick,” you said before you could stop yourself, tilting your head as you stared at the phone. “And does that say BALLS?”

An older woman crossing in the opposite direction gave you an amused stare before you and Bucky burst into a fit of laughter. You had to hold on his arm to keep from collapsing on the ground. It was the funniest thing you had seen since you could remember and to think you almost saw it in person.

This date is off to a great start.

“Maybe I wanted to see a giant dick and balls,” you said once you caught your breath, pointing at him when he opened his mouth. “And don’t say ‘all I have to do is pull down my pants’ or something like that.”

But I know he has a big dick. I know.

He smirked as he started walking again. “Only if you ask me nicely, Sugar.”

He’s going to kill my ovaries.

“I’ll ask you very nicely, Hottie,” you teased, wondering exactly where you were going then. “If that was the bad news, what’s the good news?”

“I managed to get us a reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in town,” he said, standing a bit taller.

He’s trying to impress me.

“That's really nice. And I’m sure dinner will be amazing,” you assured him, hoping he didn’t beat himself up over having to change his plans. It wasn’t his fault it was going to rain. He could’ve taken you to a fast food place and it would’ve been fine because you were with him.

“Speaking of, I better get us there so we aren’t late,” he said, opening the door for you to get in. “Maybe if you agree to a second date, I can take you out on my bike and have that picnic.”

“I’d love that,” you smiled, carefully putting the flowers in your lap and trying not to appear too eager that he was already thinking of a second date. You glanced around the car when he got in and drove off, noticing it was cleaner than when he took you home days prior.

Did he clean it for me?

You grinned as he hummed along to the radio, watching as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel. “You could’ve made it as a musician if you weren’t a tattoo artist.”

“Now you’re just flattering me, Sugar,” he said. “Believe it or not, if I wasn’t a tattoo artist, I would’ve liked to be a science teacher. I loved science and everything space related growing up.”

“Really?” you asked. He would’ve been a wonderful teacher, no matter what age group he taught. “Okay. That’s another date night.”

“What? Playing teacher?” he joked, taking his eyes off the road for a second to wink at you.

“No,” you giggled, carefully shoving his arm since he was driving. “We’re going to a science museum. That's our third date. I’m going to watch you happily geek out over everything.”

“Yeah?” he asked, glancing at you after he parked the car. “You’d do that?”

“Yeah, I would. I think it would be a blast.”

I just want to spend time with you.

A soft expression took over his features when he took your hand and brought it to his mouth. His lips lightly brushed your skin, heat pooling in your gut as he made eye contact with you. The look alone made you want to skip dinner and go right to dessert. Why not throw caution to the wind?

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he promised before he got out.

You exhaled slowly and mentally told your libido to calm down. At the very least, you had to get through dinner. He went through the trouble of getting a reservation at a nice place and you weren’t about to take that away from him.

“Oh, wow. I haven’t been here before,” you said once you got a look at the name. Richard used to brag about the place, but never actually took you. From what you remember, he said the food was supposed to be expensive. You didn’t want Bucky to splurge on you.

“I haven’t either,” Bucky admitted. A fancy place didn’t seem like his style. “But it looked romantic.”

You bit your lip as he opened the door, the flickering candlelight in the entryway alone providing an intimate ambience. The date may not have been what he planned, but he clearly did his research and put thought into doing something nice for you. When was the last time someone tried to do something nice for you? When did anyone go out of their way to make you feel special?

“Hello,” Bucky said as the hostess greeted you. “Reservation for two under James.”

James?

The hostess scanned her screen before she looked up. “I’m sorry. That name isn’t coming up.”

Bucky’s cheeks turned pink when you glanced at him. “It should be under James, miss. James Barnes. Reservation for two for 7pm. I spoke with Charles. He confirmed it.”

You moved closer to Bucky when the hostess searched through her screen again. As calm as he sounded, you sensed he was anything but inside. You hoped he wasn’t embarrassed. Maybe she skipped over his name. A simple mistake.

“Charles did make a reservation for you, but he entered it for 7pm next Friday,” she said as she looked between the two of you. “We’re fully booked tonight. I'm sorry, James.”

Oh, no.

There was a tick in Bucky’s jaw before he shook his head and you wanted nothing more than to hug him. “No, that’s… It’s for tonight.”

“I’m so sorry. I can see if we can squeeze a table in for you, but it’ll be at least an hour,” she said, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. She probably expected one or both of you to make a scene. "I can get my manager?"

Bucky swallowed when he looked at you, his cheeks still pink. The candlelight danced in his eyes, but all you saw was sadness. No. You wouldn't allow that. This was your first date and it was going to be amazing.

You put a hand on his arm, his muscles relaxing under your touch. "It's okay. I know this amazing place that’s right around the corner."

"Are you sure?" he asked, the hostess visibly relaxing when you nodded.

"You have a good evening," you said to the hostess and tugged Bucky back toward the door. "I'm sure. Trust me. We may even beat the rain if we walk now."

“Okay,” he said, avoiding your gaze as you left. “Fuck. This is the worst first date, isn’t it?”

Your heart broke for him. All he wanted was to give you a nice evening and everything he tried fell through. “Not even close. And you have nothing to apologize for. Charles messed up the reservation, Hottie, not you.”

“Yeah, he did,” he said, his lip tugging like he wanted to smile. “I just really wanted tonight to be special and since I couldn’t give you the date I planned, I wanted to at least give you something nice. I couldn't even do that.”

Hearing that made you stop, even when you felt the first raindrop. "Tonight is special because you're spending time with me. That's all I wanted," you promised, squeezing his hand for good measure.

"That's really all?" he asked as he squeezed your hand in return.

"Well, not completely," you teased as another raindrop landed on your shoulder. "Maybe a kiss at the end of our date."

A wide smile formed on his face as he leaned in, not quite kissing you. "Whatever you want, Sugar."

As romantic as it was to stand on the sidewalk with him, the rain began to come down harder and had you rushing with him around the corner. “If you're still disappointed, you’ll feel much better when we eat. Antonia’s has the best food,” you said, holding out your hand in a grand gesture as you arrived. “Tada!”

Antonia's was a bit of a hole-in-the-wall kind of place. Not extraordinary on the outside, but lively and bright on the inside. The food and service were top notch. It was one of your favorite places.

“Wait, Antonia's?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes. “This is where you’re taking me?”

“Yeah,” you replied, suddenly nervous as you faced him. Did he not like it? “Is this okay?”

“This is one of my new favorite restaurants,” he said.

No way.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously. I designed one of Antonia's tattoos. And I decided to check out the place."

He's full of surprises.

"Then you know you're in for a treat," you winked.

The hearty aroma of the restaurant filled the air as you went inside and wiped some of the rain off your dress. Antonia was speaking with the hostess as you went up to the stand. The owner was involved in virtually every part of her restaurant.

"Welcome to…" Antonia began as she looked at you, then at Bucky, then back at you. "Oh! You two… it's a date!"

Antonia looks so happy.

"Hi. And yes. We're on a date," you giggled when Bucky sheepishly smiled. It was sweet. "You wouldn't happen to have a table for two available, would you?"

Antonia put her hand over her heart and flagged down a waiter with the other. "Lover's special for these two. Go."

You exchanged a look with Bucky, who appeared just as confused as you were. "Lover's special?"

"Yes, yes. Come with me," she said, patting Bucky's cheek before she took you through the restaurant. You expected her to seat you at one of the few empty tables, but she passed them to take you to a door in the back. "Tonight is special and that means a special dinner."

Your eyes widened at the sight before you once she opened the door. There was a lone table in the middle of the room, flowers similar to the bouquet Bucky gave you sat in the center. Unlike the bright main room, the dimmed lights gave the room a romantic glow.

Perfect.

"Peter will serve you. And if you need anything, just ask, okay?" Antonia asked, putting her hand over her heart again. Were there tears in her eyes? "Two of my favorite customers. Together! Enjoy!"

You had to pause and swallow the lump in your throat once she left you alone. A restaurant owner showed more enthusiasm for your date than your mom did for anything that involved you. She likely never would.

"You okay?" Bucky asked, pulling out your chair.

"I'm fine," you replied, refusing to let the thought of your mom damper the evening. "A little chilly. I should've brought a sweater with me."

Bucky removed his blazer and put it around you, tenderness in his blue eyes as he rubbed your arms. "I can't wait to see you in my leather jacket," he said, helping you take your seat before he took his.

Oh, he's going to give me his jacket? Am I going to only wear his jacket? Fuck.

"Thank you," you said, inhaling as he rolled up one of his sleeves beneath the elbow and then the other. You reached across the table to lightly trace one of the tattoos on his right arm. "It was nice of Antonia to put us back here."

"Then why did you look so sad when she left?"

He caught that?

"She just looked so happy to see us together and I didn't expect that. It's nice that someone is rooting for us," you said, tracing your finger along his wrist before you stopped. "I'm sorry. I should've asked before I started touching."

"Don't apologize. I like your touch," he said in a low voice.

You lifted your gaze, seeing fire in his eyes that had nothing to do with the dim lighting. When he turned his hand over to hold yours, you made no move to pull away. You wished you could put your hands all over him.

"Hi! I'm Peter!" The waiter greeted as he brought water to the table. Bucky didn't let go of your hand. "I'll be taking care of you tonight."

"Only one taking care of my girl tonight is me," Bucky said. As much as you loved hearing that, you were glad he gave poor Peter a tiny smile so he could relax. "I'm kidding. It's good to see you, Peter."

"Y-You, too, Mr. Barnes. And you, Miss. You have the best cupcakes in town."

"Thanks," you smiled, quickly putting in your order before you gazed at Bucky. "So, James. Tell me more about you. How long have you been friends with Steve?"

"James is my first name. Everyone calls me Bucky," he chuckled before he shook his head. "And that punk."

You smiled softly as you listened to Bucky, not at all surprised by how easily the conversation went. Steve was his best friend since childhood and they served together before they went into business together. It was evident that he took pride in his shop and respected everyone who worked there. He carried the same affection in his tone when he spoke about his sister, Rebecca. He liked to frequent art galleries with Steve, but also enjoyed riding his bike, reading, and everything science in his spare time.

I could listen to him talk for hours.

"You know, you haven't said much about yourself," he pointed out as he set his napkin on his empty plate.

"I haven't?" You asked.

"No, you haven't and I don't want to monopolize the conversation," he said, leaning forward to give you his full attention. "I want to know more about you."

You tightened the blazer around you, unsure of what to say. "My life isn't exactly exciting," you said, wishing you could think of something clever or fun to discuss.

"Doesn't have to be exciting. I just want to know you," he said before Peter showed back up.

"Would you like to look at the desert menu?" he asked as he took your plates away.

"I think you can bring the check. We're going to skip dessert," you answered, giving Bucky an assuring smile when he frowned. "Let's go to my shop instead."

If Bucky wanted to really know you, you had to tell him more of your story. Your bakery was the only place to do it. And it would be the perfect way to end the evening.

After you left the restaurant, with Antonia asking you to come back again, Bucky drove as safely as he could to the bakery. The rain didn't let up at all. You shrieked as you struggled to get the keys out of your purse, Bucky's blazer now soaked the longer you stood there. "Why didn't I get these out when I was still in your car?!" You shouted over the downpour.

"Why didn't I bring an umbrella?!" He yelled back, putting his hands over your head as if they would protect you.

The two of you practically fell through the door once you unlocked it and shut off the alarm. "We made it," you laughed, careful not to slip on the floor. He had his arm around you just in case. Tess was right, He wouldn't let you fall. "I'll get us some towels and you have your pick of any dessert I have in the fridge."

"You have any cupcakes?" He asked.

Your breath caught in your throat when you stepped back and caught the outline of multiple tattoos through his soaked shirt. "Yeah."

"See something you like?" he smirked, running a hand through his wet hair.

Fuck me.

"I do," you said, glancing down at yourself. "But I'm freezing and I owe you dessert."

Tess might also have words if I let Bucky ravage me by the front door.

You took Bucky to the kitchen and grabbed a few towels. It wouldn't dry you off completely, but it would help. You also put on some soft music. Not to set the mood necessarily, but just in case.

"So, this is where the magic happens," Bucky said, running the towel along his exposed skin.

"It is," you said, placing your hand on the counter. "You said you wanted to know me. It starts here."

"In the kitchen?"

"In the kitchen," you repeated, going to the fridge to take a container of cupcakes out. "I used to visit my grandparents every weekend when I was growing up. My dad wasn't around and my mom said it was for family quality time, but she never stuck around. The reality was that I cramped her style and she passed me off to them because she knew they wouldn't say no."

Bucky's jaw clenched as you let him take a cupcake. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," you said, gripping the lid tightly before you closed the container. "I remember crying because I wanted to take dance classes and try and make friends. My mom said I would be a terrible dancer and that it would be a waste of time and money. A great thing for a kid to hear, right?"

"Jesus," he whispered.

It wasn't exactly the happiest conversation to have, but you wanted to show Bucky a part of you that you didn't show to most people. "My grandma wiped my tears away and brought me into her kitchen. Said she had the perfect cure for the blues. Baking. And that's what we did every weekend until I got old enough to look after myself."

"Your grandma sounds amazing," he said, carefully examining the cupcake in his hand. "And baking became your passion."

"It did. She taught me to pour love into every creation I make. And that's what Tess and I do for others. If someone is having a bad day, at least they can have a treat and feel a little better," you said, pride in your eyes as you looked around. "My grandma supported my dream, but my mom almost disowned me for wanting to run this place. It isn't good enough in her eyes."

I'm not good enough.

Bucky's nostrils flared as he set the dessert down. "Your business isn't good enough for her? What the hell? It's flourishing. I can barely find a lull to come in to get some undivided attention. And your customers love you. She should be proud of you."

His defense of you was heartwarming. "Doesn't matter how successful my business is. She wanted me to marry rich, probably so she could get money from me, but I didn't. She berated me when I broke up with Richard. No matter what I do, I'm never going to be good enough in her eyes," you told him, patting the counter with your hand. "But this makes me happy and that's enough."

"That's why you were sad that Antonia was so happy about our date, wasn't it? Because your mom either doesn't or wouldn't support it," he guessed, reaching for you and pulling you into his arms. "She'll probably hate me. I'm not rich. Covered in tattoos."

"I don't care what she thinks of you. I don't need a rich guy or fancy dates. I just want someone who can provide companionship and support. Someone who respects and cares for me," you said, wrapping your arms around him. "A good, hard-working guy like you deserves the same."

It was too soon to voice it, but Bucky was the kind of man you needed in your life. Someone you could share parts of yourself with and know he wouldn't judge. A man who made your heart race beyond lust.

A partnership.

He stared deeply into your eyes and you had no idea what was going through his head, but his gaze told you so much. How could a pair of eyes be so expressive? "You're perfect, Sugar, and more than enough. You hear me?"

Tears welled up in your eyes before you blinked them away. He sounded sincere and unashamed at his declaration. You hadn't done anything to deserve such praise. "No, I'm not," you whispered.

"You are to me. You took a chance and asked me out. Soothed me when tonight didn't go the way I thought it would," he said, gripping your chin to recapture your gaze. "And you trusted me enough to share something vulnerable with me when you didn't have to. It means everything."

"I feel like I can open up to you," you said as the two of you slowly swayed to the beat. You couldn't remember why you were nervous about your date to begin with.

"And I'll take care of you. I mean it."

I hope he knows I'll take care of him, too.

"You know," you began with a soft smile. "Our first kiss was in your shop."

"It was," he smiled.

"So I think it's only fair that we have our second kiss in my shop," you said.

"You did say you wanted a kiss to end our date," he said, bringing a hand to the back of your neck, but giving you a chance to stop him.

You didn't.

Even though you expected it, you still gasped when he molded his mouth against yours. Your heart pounded furiously in your chest, making you both eager and pliant as he licked his way across your lips. When he brushed his tongue against yours and took possession of your mouth, you mewled. Desire nearly blinded you from the taste of him.

I want more.

"I don't want our date to end," you breathed, clutching his arms to steady yourself.

"It doesn't have to," he said, resting a hand on your hip. His eyes were dark and full of want. To have him look at you that way, how could you possibly end the evening with one kiss? Why deny yourself what you both wanted?

"No, it doesn't," you agreed with a coy smile. "So. My place or yours?"

So. How do we think the evening will go? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Indifference Part 2

Part 1 ~~

Sanji X Fem Reader

Sanji let to door shut behind him as soon as Chopper said you were stable. Heading to the edge of the deck to lean over the railing, the sun long gone and the only light coming from the stars in the sky. He grabbed a cigarette and his lighter, his hands noticeably shaking as he brings the items closer to his mouth.

         His eyes were dazed over as he attempted to light the nicotine in his fingers, wanting any sort of comfort compared to what just happened the past few hours. Finally succeeding he breathe in the sweet release as smoke fills his lungs. The feeling grounding him ever so slightly as he lets his head fall, staring at his hands.

         The feeling of warm blood enveloping them as he tried to stop the flow on your back, the transfusions that happened quickly while Chopper got to work stitching the wounds. His hands slowly turning sticky and dry, his shirt covered in the red liquid. And your face, his mind kept replaying the look you had given him just before you fell. The pale, worried, confused face. He didn’t know if you had tried to say something or if you were just trying to breathe, but the last gasps that escaped your lips before falling unconscious haunted his mind.

         His throat tightened slightly as he flicked the butt of his cigarette into the open water below him, quickly lighting another while trying not to clench his teeth. How did no one notice? What happened that your back was targeted? His hands clenched the railing underneath him; how didn’t he realize you had been hurt?

         During the fight he had been so focused on not looking at you. Deciding instead to focus on beating more marines than Zoro. Didn’t you cry out for help? Why was your back undefended? Wasn’t anyone fighting with you?

~~~

         You woke up the next day with Chopper fretting over you. Crying and yelling at you for not telling him you had gotten hurt. In the corner of the room, you could see bloody bandages piled into the bin, the lights just slightly too bright for your liking as you attempt to sit up. “What do you think you’re doing?! You need to rest,” Chopper ran back over to you, pushing you down as he heard you wincing.

         “It can’t be that bad…” You mumble trying to think back to the moments before you passed out. It was difficult to think of anything at the moment, your throat was dry and your body felt heavier than normal.

         “Not that bad? You nearly died!” Chopper cried, lecturing you while you stopped listening. The scolding voice going in one ear and out the other as you glance around the room. The reindeer fretting over every movement as he checked over you again.

         “I’m alive.” Your voice was re-assuring as you placed a hand on his shoulder. Even with such a small movement you could tell how tired your body was. “I hope I didn’t cause to much trouble Chopper.” You attempt to smile and it seems to cause the cotton-candy lover to cry. The water works coming out as he yells about how worried he was.

         Robin is the first one to enter the room upon the commotion being heard. Giving you a bowl of soup, “You gave us quite a scare back there.” And just like that everyone visited you as time went on. Never being alone but also not being allowed to get up when you want.

         This biggest thing you noticed though was the lack of Sanji. You could hear him through the wall, prepping food and yelling at crewmates sneaking a taste. Yet he’d never made his way in to check on you like the others. The aching pain in your back almost feeling good compared to your heavy heart.

~~~

         Sanji kept replaying that night in his head. Or really that day. Maybe the past few weeks. His heart sinking further into a pit as his thought about what he could have done differently, what would have been better if he had handled the situation better.

         He never meant to grow feelings for you, and when he felt his heart beat faster, he had thought it was the cigarettes catching up to him. Your cute voice filling his usually empty kitchen as you insisted on helping him. It’s not that no one else offered, it’s that you were just insistent on coming. And who was he to turn a pretty lady away?

         As time passed, he started trusting you with more and more. His normally quiet evenings filled with meal prepping turning into spending time with you. Telling stories of adventures you had had, without the other. Soon enough he had you tasting his food prematurely, something he hadn’t done before, something only Zeff had the pleasure of doing as he honed his skills. He wasn’t sure why but watching as truly taste his food, putting in your thoughts for potential seasonings filled him with joy.

         Even when your alone time together was interrupted, he was more than happy that you were able to fend off the main course while he fixed the others a quick snack. Making sure Luffy didn’t get too many bites of the unfinished food.

And of course, he noticed how you would sneak candy out of the kitchen for Chopper. It was his duty to make sure everyone had a well-balanced nutritious diet, and while he’d scold you from time to time, he always made sure to leave the healthier candy in a easy hiding spot.

Your laugh was another thing, your voice like angels singing in his ears as he drew closer with snacks prepared specifically with you in mind. The appreciative look on your face as you’d take the item from his trey sending him over the edge.

         But that’s the thing. His heart racing was normal. Any women that walked by made him shudder, yet there you were. Seemingly making his heart race to the moon, faster than he’d ever felt it. The almost painful beating in his chest making him begrudgingly go to Chopper to make sure he wasn’t getting sick.

His shock when Chopper said he was as healthy as ever, going on his normal spiel to cut back on smoking but that the moment nothing had changed. It took him another week or two to realize what was causing the increased heart rate. You had been talking to Zoro, laughing with a smile on your face, and all Sanji could feel while watching from afar was a pained beat hammering away.

         He thought he knew what love was. But clearly, he was in fresh waters when it came to you. And despite his bravado, his chivalrous behaviors and language of love, he was scared. Zeff had only ever taught him how to treat a lady, Sanji would see women come and go, but none that held onto his adoptive fathers’ hand for long. And Judge hadn’t a paternal bone in his body when it came to giving advice for the few years Sanji had spent with him. For once, he felt completely unprepared.

         As Sanji smokes the last of his cigarettes, he lets out a frustrated sigh, tossing the empty carton to the side as he starts to chew on his thumb nail instead. His mind twirling with how he should have dealt with his own feelings differently.

         His decision to stay away came hard to him. His heart telling him to follow you to the ends of the world, yet the pain in his chest of being truly rejected, turned down by the first person he’s truly wanted stopped him from pursuing you. He made a conscious effort to stay away as much as possible, but still believing your cooking time together could be his own secret heaven.

         But as time went on, he realized your reactions to him, your delightful noises when you’d finish a task, your happy laughter filling the air of his kitchen, was making him day dream more. The seemingly secret rendezvous in his mind taking precedent in his every waking moment, getting distracted through out the day until you’d find him in the kitchen once again.

         And so, he started to actively ignore you in the kitchen too. Maybe, if he stopped talking to you, his feelings would settle down and his feet would stop turning cold. It worked for a while; his heart settled as it didn’t hear your delightful tones ringing through the air.

         Yet it didn’t last for long. The more measures he put in place to stop his feelings from growing, the more he seemed to fall. So, he swallowed the lump in his throat that fateful day. Not turning to you as you entered the kitchen to help him once again. He uttered those words without looking at you. He knew if he saw you, his resolve would break. His back was tense, waiting for a response from you, and yet it never came.

         Instead, he heard your feet shuffle away, the door closing behind you as you didn’t utter a single word to him. And somehow, that hurt worse than any rejection Sanji had expected. Anger, confusion, anything, but silence? He grits his teeth as his heart pounded like never before, praying that it’d settle down soon, that these feelings he’d never known before would disappear without a trace.

         Sanji bites his thumb, snapping himself out of his thoughts as he stared out into the ocean. He didn’t want to remember the fight with the marines. He didn’t want to remember the trail of blood, leading him to your pale face. He didn’t want to remember as his hands became drenched in your blood, your body turning cold underneath him as Chopper fixed you up. He didn’t want to remember how close you had come to deaths door before you finally turned around to dance on the fence of the afterlife and the living realm.

         “Sanji…” The voice he had dreaded hearing called out to him, anchoring him to the present, the now, as you stood staring at him with some concern in your eyes. His heart froze, seeing you standing, walking, talking felt like a miracle that made it feel like he could breathe again. “I guess I should thank you,” You laugh out lowly, ignoring the own pain in your heart.

         Sanji’s heart sank, your laugh sounded empty and bare, it wasn’t you. He focused on your body, it was too frail, too pale for your complexion as you stood there. “I didn’t think my wounds were that bad…” You trailed off, making light of your own injuries despite your back now littered with stitches soon to be deep scars.

         Sanji’s blood ran cold as you continued to awkwardly joke about the situation, your way to cope with nearly losing your life. You still felt a little light headed when you came out to get fresh air, your breath being taken away when you saw Sanji, and you couldn’t stop yourself before you started talking. And now it seemed as those you couldn’t stop talking, dry laughter leaving your mouth as you attempt to get the man in front of you to speak a single word to you.

         Then, without a second passing, arms were wrapped around you. A tight, yet careful squeeze holding you in place as Sanji buried your face into his chest, his hand resting on the back of your head, lightly stroking your hair. The sudden embraced shut you up, you breathe caught in your throat and your mind going blank as heavy emotions hit you, yet time felt still.

         “I’m sorry,” Sanji whispered, only audible to you, “I…” Sanji choked on his words, his chest jumped a bit as though choking back a sob, unspoken words being conveyed from his actions as tears finally fall down your face. A small wail erupting from your throat as you pressed your face into his dress shirt, your hands bawling the fabric of his shirt as you cried. His soothing hands holding you as you finally let your emotions out into the man you trust the most on the crew.

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[touyasdoll]

Vulnerability

pairing: ex!Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

word count: 1.1k

warnings: mildly angsty bc y'all broke up before, rough sex kinda, sex with feelings, y’all broke up and he’s back (surprise, surprise), unprotected sex, creampie, possessive gojo

notes: once Satoru is in love, he is in wholeheartedly. you are never getting rid of him <3

“Say it again, baby,” Satoru drawls, drunk in the pleasure that you’re providing as you glide up and down on his impressive length.

“I love you,” you whisper, just like old times as your hands rest on either side of his neck, keeping his ice blue gaze fixed on your face.

A lazy smile spreads across his handsome face as he guides your hips, his long fingers tightening around your flesh.

“I missed that. Missed you,” he whispers back, words that you’d never thought you’d hear. Not from this man.

It’s been months since he walked out that door. Since you told him to get the fuck out of your life and never come back. He was petrified of commitment and that wasn’t a secret to anyone who knew of your relationship well enough.

“I love you,” you say again, earning you a groan from a man beneath you.

“I love you too, gorgeous,” he replies, nearly stopping your steady rhythm, but the feel of his glorious cock keeps you going.

“Say it again,” you echo his words, desperate to hear those words after months of his denying you of the pleasure.

“I love you. I’ve always loved you, baby,” he breathes out. “I fucking mean it too,” he growls quietly.

His hands nearly bruise your hips, fingertips pressing into your skin when he starts holding you as tight as he wish he would have before. When he was too proud and too scared to just utter the words that roll off his tongue so easily now.

“I need you. I fucked up and I know it,” he pants, easily flipping the two of you over so that he lumbers over you.

He props himself up on one hand and catches your jaw in the other, using a firm but gentle grip to keep your half lidded eyes fixed on him as he keeps driving into you.

“You’re never gonna get rid of me, baby. I can’t imagine a life without you and I won’t. I won’t fucking do it,” he snarls, the sound a delicious noise reverberating between your two sweat slicked bodies.

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

“I mean it. Your pussy feels fucking amazing choking my cock, but that isn’t why I’m saying this,” he promises, never missing a beat as his impressive length pummels your poor, abused pussy.

“Satoru!” You cry, hand wrapping around his wrist, your hand so small in comparison to his.

“That’s it. Keep crying for me. Keep saying my fucking name. You will only ever say my name when you feel this good. Do you understand me?”

You nod, staring up at him, fighting the need to screw your eyes shut and the pressure in the depths of your core threatens to snap and ignite your entire body on fire.

“Good,” he grits out, teeth clenched as he doubles down, railing his rock hard cock into you, rushing you towards your finish.

All you can do is hold the fuck on as he sends you flying, soaring up into the heavens as you howl his name. Only his name. The only one you ever wanted to leave your lips as you enter complete and total, all encompassing bliss.

“Fuck,” he sighs, a shiver rocking his body as every muscle in his imposing form tenses and he breaks with you.

He grunts, his body flexing right as something in him snaps and he continues bullying his dick into your pulsing walls. They hug him so tight he feels like he might black out.

For a moment, he swears he does. His hips cast forward on their own, forcing him impossibly deeper as his tip knocks against the deepest part of you, spilling his seed inside to claim you once and forever as his and his alone.

Both of you are lost in a haze, but nothing has ever been more clear to the man panting in your ear. He needs you. He cannot live without you and he’s only sorry that it took him so long to admit it.

That’s why he showed up at your door tonight. Begging for you to just let him in and hear him out. That’s how you ended up right here, desperately trying to suck air into your lungs while your nerves scream and sing in response to every little touch that he offers your overstimulated form.

“I love you,” he reaffirms, the words a soft whisper against your collarbone as he trails his lips across them.

“I love you too,” you whisper, still in disbelief that you’re able to add the little ‘too’ on the end of that sentence.

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry I couldn’t say it before, but I’ve always felt it. I’ve always needed you,” he swears, collapsing beside you to bundle you into his arms.

His gentle lips pepper kisses across your scalp, your forehead, and your temple, slowly trialing across your face.

“I missed you. I mean that too, baby,” he says with more conviction than you’ve ever heard leave his lips, his voice shaking with emotion. “I will never leave you doubting that again. I swear. I fucking swear it.”

You’ve never seen him like this. Never heard his voice with anything other than pure, radiating confidence imbued within it. Now, his voice quakes. His tone is full of tremors and uncertainty, something that is foreign to the one who has always known himself as the strongest. Weakness had no place in his words.

But with you, he is weak and he knows it. He has always known it and just never spoken the words aloud, but if it means keeping you. Having you, he will gladly break down those walls to keep you within them. He will build them back up to keep you here with him forever. Where you belong.

“I love you. I was scared and I can say that now. I was too petrified then. Afraid that I’d lose you somehow, but I went and did that anyway and I would do anything not to do that again,” he whispers, his nose nudging against your cheek.

“I’m yours, baby,” you whisper back. “I have always been yours for the taking. I’m not going anywhere.”

Relief washes over him as he holds you tighter, his spindly fingers dragging across your spine.

“I won’t let you,” he vows, holding you close enough that you believe he’s trying to mold you directly into his body. Into his ribs.

Straight into his heart, which you have no doubts that you now know belongs solely to you.

thank you for reading! if you enjoyed, please feel free to leave a like, comment, or reblog and they are all greatly appreciated <3

[haikyu-mp4]

For cartwheels

word count; 1062 – gn!reader, inspired by my desperate dream of doing a cartwheel

Tsukishima Kei was so happy to get home after a long day at the museum where he worked, desperate to spend the evening inside in your company. Unfortunately, he married you, so he could never get the peace he wanted for free.

You were standing awkwardly on the lawn in front of your house when he exited the car. Your husband walked closer slowly as if approaching a dangerous animal. “Why are you out here, brat?” he asked affectionately, but then he saw the tear trickling down from your eye. “What’s wrong?”

With a sniffle, you lift your arm and wipe at the tear before pouting at him, shoulders shaking a little but he wasn’t sure if it was sobs or oncoming laughter because it seemed like a mixture of both. “I so desperately want to do a cartwheel,” you explained, letting another tear fall.

“I’m sorry, what?” he asked, wondering if he heard you right as he straight up stopped and just stared at you.

“I suddenly got this intense urge to do a cartwheel, but I can’t do a cartwheel!”

“Have you tried, are you hurt?” he asked, this time wondering if maybe you had tried already and that was why you were crying.

“I just told you, I can’t do cartwheels. I’m stuck walking around like some lame person.” you insisted, walking around in a circle as if for emphasis. He covered his mouth with his hand, acting as if he was thinking and even putting the other hand on his hip for the act, but really he was just trying not to laugh at you when you were feeling so emotional. He didn’t understand why this made you cry, and he probably never would. There are many times in this marriage where you tested his patience, but he never loved you any less.

After basking in this weird energy for a minute, he put his bag down and started rolling up his sleeves. “Just try it.”

You wrung your hands and swayed your body a bit like a little kid who is about to ask their parent for something. “Will you try with me? I’m scared that the neighbours will see me do it alone and think I’m weird.”

“God forbid they think that,” he mumbled sarcastically, making you lightly slap his chest. He blinked in disbelief, so close to just saying no, but there was something about the way you looked at him like he could save your entire day. “I can call Yamaguchi and ask if he wants to come over for a playdate?” he asked, bratty as ever despite his affection for you.

“I want you! This is what I married you for,” you said, always turning overly dramatic when Tsukki fought against you.

Once again, he deadpanned as he looked at you, silently asking if you were serious. “You married me to do cartwheels together in our garden?”

You grinned innocently and shrugged your shoulders. “Amongst other things.”

His eyes fell closed, pinching between them with his pointer finger and thumb. Tsukishima actually couldn’t believe he was about to agree, except yes he could. He was so smitten with you that there was no doubt in his mind he would eventually agree anyway. “Fine, but you have to make dinner after I break both my arms and legs.”

Completely ignoring his dramatics, you clap your hands excitedly. “You’re the athlete, you have to go first.” His eyes were cursing you, but he still got ready, breathing in and out as his eyes measured the space he had. You giggled and stood at the side, cheering for him like a cheerleader. “Go, Tsukki!”

“It’s Kei to you,” he said, breaking his concentration again because nothing was worth his time more than bickering with you.

“Do the cheerleaders at your games call you that?” you argued with a scrunched nose, reminding him you could be just as stubborn.

“No, but I’m not married to them!” he said, finally reaching the level of exasperated.

You giggle, always happy to hear him say you’re married. “Let’s go, baby, while the sun is up.”

It’s such a bratty line that he considered refusing again, but he finally got ready so that the two of you could get it over with. If you hadn’t been cheering for him, you would have heard him mumble a quick “Lucky I love you” before he finally lifted his arms and tried to do a cartwheel across the grass.

It wasn’t that bad, honestly. He did just fine at first but then forgot to steady himself and one leg just followed the other and the next thing he knew, he was sitting on the ground with his glasses askew. You cheered loudly as Tsukishima straightened up his glasses and huffed. “Was it exhilarating?” you asked, holding out a hand to help him up.

“I’m never doing it again,” he insisted while you pulled him up. He squeezed your hand and gestured with his free hand towards the open space. “Your turn.”

An excited giggle left your mouth as you moved to where he stood previously, but your face fell abruptly when he just watched you silently. “Are you not going to cheer?”

He pursed his lips and lifted a hand like the Statue of Liberty, followed by a weak “Go, go, let’s go!”

That was more than enough to satisfy you, as you put up your hands and skipped for a step or two before tumbling across the lawn. It didn’t last for long, and you weren’t particularly good at it. But your laugh when you landed was enough of a sign to Kei that his mission succeeded. You were happy.

He helped you up and pulled you to his chest. The neighbours were totally watching you. “Was is exhilarating?” he asked you back.

“My butt hurts,” you complained, but it was still mixed with laughter.

He chuckled. It sounded like music to your ears. The soft kind of chuckle that caressed your heart and reminded you he was the one. “Mine too, honey.”

As you started making your way inside, Kei had his arm over your shoulders and yours was stretched across his back while he told you about his day. All you could do was stare up at him in wonder. That’s the man you married. In sickness and in health, for cartwheels and other things.

masterlist

/I got to the part where the reader asks him to join and suddenly realised I had no idea what character I was writing for, so I started imagining every moody haikyuu character doing cartwheels.