#like i cried so hard my whole body trembled my heart ached so bad my stomach was upside down

[forleejehoon]

If you're a recent Lee Jehoon fan and feel like his acting is one of a kind, I urge you to watch his full-length movie debut in a piece called Bleak Night back from 2011 if you haven't already! I can assure, it will make you fall for his acting even more.

This movie is defined as a coming-of-age drama and has an overall indie feel to it. It's a story of a group of highschool friends – more precisely, the storyline follows along Gitae's (Lee Jehoon) dad who tries to understand why his son took his own life. Bit by bit, the events leading up to the incident are revealed to the viewers, too. It makes you constantly question "who's to blame?" and I feel like this question is the driving force of the story.

In general sense, this movie is about boyhood. Director Yoon Sunghyun, whose debut work was actually Bleak Night itself, expands on intricacies of relationships between guy friends and masterfully reveals the subtleties of boyhood as a stage of life using long shots, face close-ups and hand-held shaky camera work; it all feels very raw. It's strong, it's bitter, it hurts, yet it also leaves your heart open and warm for some unidentifiable reason.

Jehoon starred in Bleak Night together with Park Jeongmin (first from right in the picture; another genius actor, he does mostly movies though) and the piece is considered to have kicked off both of their acting careers since they showed truly captivating performances.

This movie is a masterpiece in the way it captures nuance and emotion, especially since it talks about feelings of young men who are just entering adulthood – a topic that's still considered rather taboo in this day and age. It's one of those movies you definitely have to watch at least once in a lifetime.

Bleak Night trailer with English subtitles

Fun fact: Jehoon happened to pass out from smoking too much while filming for this project. He said it was because before he didn't smoke at all but suddenly had to learn it for his character.

[houpss]

I urgently need you to write about what if SKZ are upset/crying

you write so well that I cry every time from your works, they break my heart :( You're born for angst ❤️‍🔥🫶🏻

SKZ feeling upset/crying

angst, fluff, consolation, tears

𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧

Chan cries often, but he does it alone.

Because...he shouldn't cry. That's what he thought.

Chan helps everyone, he gives advice to everyone... but he is not able to help himself.

He looks like a drowning man, but he is drowning in his problems, he is drowning in self-hatred.

Oh...he thinks that he is absolutely ugly, that he is always behind and that he is always bad.

Tears of desperate pain choke him as he covers his mouth with his hand and hugs his knees to his chest as he sits on his bed in his room.

He knew he wasn't worthy of the fans' love or your love. What did he do to deserve you?

He slowly and surely destroyed himself from the inside.

It will be late Friday evening, Chan has had a terrible day today. He made a few mistakes, he's very absent-minded

He came home and immediately burst into tears. He collapsed exhaustedly on the bed, his body trembling with shame and tears.

He lay down in a ball and covered himself with a blanket, he wants to hide from the whole world.

You arrived a little later than Chan. you tensed up because the apartment was quiet and dark.

You went through all the rooms, but didn’t find Chan there, although his shoes and bag were in the hallway.

Your heart sank when you saw him in the bedroom, you felt his pain on you.

You entered the room and sat down on Chan’s bed, Chan was lying on his side, covered with a blanket up to his head, he was breathing heavily and sobbing. You saw several drunk bottles of whiskey on the table, it seems things are bad. You stroked Chan’s head and back as he lay under the blanket. You rubbed his back again and again. Your heart ached with every tear he shed, it hurt too much. Chan feels your gentle touch and sobs loudly. Tears dampen the pillow, his body tenses for a moment, but then he slowly turns to you and looks at you with wet brown eyes, full of pain and regret. “Y/n...you shouldn't have seen this... I'm sorry...” his voice trembles, he tries his best to stop himself from screaming, “I don't want anything to happen in our relationship because of me- that’s bad... please forgive me" ..."Channie..please tell me everything that bothers you...I will help you" Tears flowed from his eyes, he sobbed loudly and squinted. Y/n ran thumb over his cheek, wiping away large tears, they looked like pearls. Chan felt disgusted with himself, he was disgusted by his appearance and existence. The sobs slowly subside under your touch, and Bang Chan looks at you with sad eyes, they beg for help, shining under the light. * “I can’t stand it anymore... I want to stop... please help me...” Chan's voice cracks. as he speaks quietly, not daring to look away. Y/n smiles at him tenderly, but doesn’t promise anything yet.

"I know how hard it is for you and how hard you try...you are such a wonderful person, Channie...my beloved wonderful man. Why don't you take a rest?" You spoke quietly, stroking Chan’s hair. Chan wanted to protest because there was too much work, but he felt like he was breaking down inside. Chan sighed and laid his head on Y/n’s chest, he didn’t want to say anything, they understood each other without words. They are connected at the soulmate level. He didn't want to think about work right now. They lay there for a while, and Y/n gently stroked her lover's hair. Chan felt warmth spread throughout his body as you whispered soft words of comfort, “Go to sleep, my love... We’ll figure it out tomorrow.” Eventually, Chan's sobs subsided and he fell asleep in your arms. Your love will heal him, it will give him redemption. You are his sin, but at the same time his protector, you are his eternal love. Thank you.

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰

He is always strict with himself, he strives for an ideal that does not exist.

He literally wants to be the best everywhere and in everything.

He may be on strict diets, exhaust himself with dancing, or spend a lot of time in the gym. This all indicates that he feels bad in his soul.

He won't ask for help, he's not a weakling.

It will be evening, late evening in the dance studio, he is sitting on the floor and breathing heavily.

He worked out so much again for so long. His bones ached, his heart beat wildly, just a little more and he would collapse, but he wouldn’t stop.

Why do so many people underestimate him? Minho wants to be the best.

You will go into the studio and sit quietly next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. He won't notice you at first.

His mood will improve slightly when he sees you and rests his head on yours.

Y/n took his hand, squeezing it a little. You felt how tired Minho was, you felt that he was being destroyed from the inside, he needed help. Minho intertwined his fingers with yours and his breathing calmed down a little “Y/n, it’s late, go home” He said, straightening his wet hair from sweat. "I was expecting you, you've been training all day." "You know the comeback is coming soon and I can't—"

You stop him and stroke his face, he looks like an upset cat. You straighten the strands of hair that fell on his forehead, “I know, but if you go on stage like this, STAY won’t be happy...take care of yourself first.”

He wants to argue with you, he doesn’t want to seem weak. He would never be weak, “Y/n, it’s really okay,” but when he tried to stand up, his legs gave way and the pain in his hip intensified. You jumped up after him so he could lean on you. "Don’t be a hero, Min, we’ll BOTH go home now,” he wants to object again, but the pain in his thigh intensifies and he makes a face, allowing him to be led to the sofa. You ran for the first aid kit, giving him painkillers.

"I will remind you of this, Y/n" he grins through the pain, but allows himself to lean on you and lead him to the manager's car. He is grateful to you, maybe he will start to feel better about himself. In the car, he takes you to his side and kisses you on the the top of the head.

𝐒𝐞𝐨 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧

Changbin is rarely sad, he is always positive

Perhaps...he will be sad because some STAY don't like his appearance.

He will be quiet and taciturn, always looking at the phone screen.

One evening he comes up to you while you are preparing dinner and asks “Y/n...am I really that scary?”

You frown and don’t understand why he says that.

"Binnie, is something bothering you? You're handsome, baby."

He frowns and hands you the phone. He read the bad comments again.

You go up to him and pat him on the head, his head was at the level of your chest when he sat.

"Honey, antistay no one and you should ignore their words."

Before continuing, you handed Changbin his phone number, but with a post where there was a post where Changbin was considered the best. He is the best.

He will smile and lean towards you for a kiss.

He will shine all evening, he will be like the sun.

𝐇𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧

"Leave me the fuck alone for once"

Hyunjin will be furious, he was extremely annoyed by everything and everyone

As soon as he says this phrase, then you really should leave him alone.

He will pour out his sadness and melancholy in his paintings, he will completely throw all his emotions onto the canvas.

But

He will come to you later, but he will still be upset.

He will constantly talk about how terrible he is, how unworthy he is of your love, and may even question your relationship itself.

But he wasn't really asking you questions, he was just insecure and needed you to repeatedly tell him it was all bullshit.

You will run through his hair, stroking his cheeks and wiping away the tears from them.

Oh...it seems prince is a whiny boy.

Although fans believed that Hyunjin was perfect in everything, Hyunjin himself did not think so. He was absolutely afraid, he is afraid of everything.

He will wrap his long arms around your body while his head is on your chest, he quietly sobs and mutters something like: “please... don’t leave... don’t be disappointed in me.”

Give him love and care. Gentle kisses and long hugs will suit him.

He will cry for a long time, but because of his love for you.

Hyunjin is the sweetest person you've ever met. On the outside he is cold and inaccessible, but in reality he is vulnerable and soft.

Will fall asleep on you while you play with his hair.

"Sleep sweetly, my angel"

𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

Jisung wasn't as extroverted as everyone says

He is actually sad a lot, there are too many doubts in his head.

He may get upset over little things.

At one point it all resulted in tears.

You found him in tears in the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror and crying. He cried so hard and a lot.

His soul seems to be rotting from the inside.

“There is no loneliness worse than loneliness in society. Everyone laughs, but you want to cry.” This describes his life

You will hug him tightly while his limp arms cling to you.

He cries quietly in your arms, but does not explain the reasons. But you don’t ask him to tell you.

Even the funniest person can be broken at heart.

Jisung has lost his way out of his darkness.

He had not seen a way out for a long time. He was lost in the dark forest of his own thoughts.

need to live, not exist.

Will you be his light in this pain?

Then, Jisung will say for the first time that he appreciates you. Cherish these words until the last moment.

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱

He tries not to be upset, because the sun is never sad.

Felix hides his upset under a smile.

But... he won't deceive you.

He is too open and soft with you

He will cuddle up to you and tell you everything, he will be open with you and tell you about all his experiences.

"You came and everything became better"

He feels good and calm with you. You are his sedative.

He is like a kitten that needs all the love and affection.

He will sob and talk about all the problems.

You gently stroke his back, sometimes stroke his head. Throughout his story, you give him tactility and kisses.

The sadness will soon go away and you will go bake brownies or some other sweet together.

After crying, his face is little reddish, his eyelashes are pinched and his lips are swollen...he is a crying angel.

You will fulfill his every wish in order to prevent his tears! You have to tell him a lot of exciting stories to make him smile.

He must love flowers. Give him a bouquet)

If one kiss was not enough, then ten, if ten were not enough, then a hundred and even more.

The sun is shining again, and your sun happily moves around the kitchen and cooks with you.

𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧

You didn’t know the last time you saw Seungmin sad, he didn’t care about anything at all.

He is sad alone, but he often remembers you. Thinking about you gives him peace.

He listens to any music and looks at your photos. He thinks a lot

You never touch him when he's sad. You just give him your soft toy and a glass of water.

It will take him a few hours, but he will be completely back to normal.

Seungmin never shares his experiences, but you know everything that happens on a subconscious level.

Perhaps he likes to go for a walk when bad thoughts come over him.

Only then will he call you and ask you to come.

You will walk in silence, only his cold hand gave him away.

Surrounded by your scent and beautiful views, he felt better.

When you get home, help him change and lay your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

He will feel better.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧

He hides his emotions.

No one needs to know how he feel.

Jeongin didn’t like unnecessary attention and didn’t talk much about his feelings.

But you know Jeongin from bones to toe.

He seems angry, but he is only upset in his heart.

Jeongin will be clingier than usual and won't talk much.

You ask what happened, and he will exhale heavily and try to tell you.

Jeongin's story will be a little incoherent, but he put his soul into his experiences.

You will help him solve his problems, because nuna/hyung always loves him!

He will feel better with your presence, as if you transferred your positive energy to him!

You will go for a walk, and then go shopping, because Jongin feels better when he buys new beautiful clothes.

[artists-ally]

{She Gets The Flowers, Right?} Reader x Lucien Vanssera {Pt. 3}

Welp... here you go! I shall prepare to be boiled alive. Enjoy!

Word Count: 7,525

Warnings: you know the drill. Angst, language, hurt/comfort, nasty ass cliffhanger

Tagging: @bubybubsters @thelov3lybookworm @cyrygher @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @anuttellaa @crazylokonugget @thehighlordishere @acourtofbatboydreams @thisblogisaboutabook @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @venuseuripedis

Summary: Can everything be reconciled? Be repaired? Was it all just a big misunderstanding?

~~~~~~

READER POV

THAT MORNING...

There is nothing quite as startling as waking up to the sound of silence. In a life full of chaos, full of commotion and the constant buzz of energy, silence is unsettling. Especially in a house that should be full of laughter, taunting jokes, and easy smiles.

Anger seared my heart. Branded it black. Visions of heated conversations seep into mind, flooding my vision in red. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been so mad in my life. The fact that he chose her over me. But I refused to let him disrespect me. I said hurtful things. And a twisted part of me likes the fact that they hurt him. I wanted him to suffer and grovel as much as I have been. 

It’s petty, but I don’t care.

I push myself out of bed, dragging to the bathroom to sort myself out. I look in the mirror: skin? Dry. Eyes? Puffy. Lips? Swollen. I look tired. I am tired. And no amount of sleep will fix the bone deep ache of sheer disappointment. 

Gods, he is still everywhere. Even with all his stuff gone; his toothbrush, his signature scent, his body soap and cufflinks sitting in the dish behind the faucet, somehow, he’s still here. Bits and pieces of him, of his once kind words…. All of it has turned sour. 

A day has yet to go by where I don’t think of him. Of his laugh. Of the way his lip trembles when he cries. 

I miss him. 

And every day I hate myself more for it. 

I shouldn’t miss him. What did he do besides torture me with the fact that he’ll never give me the time of day? Just like Elain was doing to him. I hope he’s happy. No, I don’t. That’s a lie. I hope he’s just as miserable as I am. 

That’s even more of a lie. 

I dress without thinking, my outfit the same as it has been for the past month and a half after opening the restaurant. The double breasted, black chefs coat with three stars embroidered over the heart. The slithering, embroidered black filigree on the shoulders, in a slightly different sheen to make them stand out. The pants had matching details over the pockets and down the side of the pant leg. My boots slip on and I grab my cap, fitting it over my head before heading out the door to get an early start. 

Every fucking day since I kicked him out has been an early start. Anything to keep myself in this place we used to call home. I should move. Repaint at the least. Change something. 

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. 

Everything is painfully the same.

When I need change the most, I can’t–for the life of me–decide what I want that change to be. 

It doesn’t fucking matter. 

He’ll always be there.

A murmur in the back of my head of what could’ve been. 

Should I be this jealous? This aggravated over this whole thing? Am I overreacting? It’s not like he cheated on me, we weren’t even together. But I wanted him so bad I was willing to kick him out because he chose someone else over me. Oh Gods… I am a horrible-

No, I stop myself. Taking a deep breath as I step down off the porch, heading down the well beaten dirt path towards the city. Your feelings are valid. He hurt you. Badly. You didn’t overreact. Some would say it might’ve been an underreaction, or how could you have let it go on this long? You are allowed to be upset, for as long as you need. No one can tell you otherwise. 

No one can tell you otherwise. I repeat the words over and over. I stare down at the cobblestone sidewalks, firsts clenched under my arms. I chew my lip. I clench my teeth. Things I always did, and things Lucien would try to get me to stop. 

He’d put a hand on my shoulder. Or grab my hand to keep from digging my nails into my palms. 

No one will ever know me as well as he did. 

And that shatters my soul.

The thought of having to try to explain the events of my life to someone all over again… it’ll be impossible. Why couldn’t he have just loved me back?

Before I have time to realize where I’m going, I’m at Meliora. I see Ms. Immy bustling around. I wonder if she ever sleeps. 

“Ah!” She cheers when I walk in the door. “My Spirit of the Gods! How are you dear?”

I give a half smile. “I’ve been better. Just the usual for me, please.”

“You are still missing your Fox?”

I nod. I watch as she pours the bubbling water into my mug, dipping the peppermint tea bag into the liquid. She’s so methodical. I’ve been here a thousand times, and she manages to make it the same way every time. Ms. Immy dusts the top with granules of sugar, adding a mint leaf to the top. She slides it in front of me as she grabs the chocolate chip muffin from the case. 

“When are you going to talk to him?”

The question throws me for a loop. I answer honestly, “I wasn’t planning on ever seeing him again.”

She snorts. “I doubt that will hold true. He misses you too.”

“I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do.”

Yes. I do. “I don’t know how to forgive him.”

“Then don’t.”

I blink. What? “So, you think I should make amends with him, but not forgive him? How does that work?”

“He is your mate, no?” I nod. “Then you love him. Why is it so difficult to forgive someone you love?”

“I don’t know,” I bit my tongue. “I don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“Yet you still want him back.”

Wow. I sound so pathetic. I cast my eyes down, tapping my fingers on the mug. “No matter how much I love him, I won’t let myself remain second place. I refuse to let myself go through to torture of always being picked next. Never first. No matter how much it hurts to stay away from him.”

She clicks her tongue, wiping down the counter behind her. Faintly, she hums a tune, its melody ringing in my ears. I feel like I knew it once. But I've been so caught up in everything that happened last month to bother trying to hold onto those types of memories. 

I am losing myself.

“Do you know the meaning of Meliora?”

It’s the name of her cafe. I shrugged, “No, should I?”

“It means the place for better things, my Spirit. It is an ancient omen, an ancient oath of the Night Court. This is a Meliora, a place for better things. Seems like you could use some better things.”

“I have Latibule. I am living my dream of owning a restaurant. Better has come.”

“And it has gone,” Ms. Immy says. “Don’t fool yourself Yn. You are lost without Lucien. If he were to ask for your forgiveness, to give up Elain and all that has happened, would you accept him? If he said he only wanted you, would you have him?”

I grind my teeth together. The peppermint tea has turned to acid on my tongue. No one can tell you otherwise, no one can tell you otherwise…

“There are things in the world Yn, so precious and hard to find that it would be stupid to let it go. To trade it away over unintentional negligence. Lucien loves you. You love him. The two of you have been blessed by the Cauldron with a mate. Let it go to waste and suffer the consequences of never being able to fill that void. Let it rot your mind and heart for anyone else.”

I grind my teeth harder. Why does she insist on forgiving Lucien? 

“After everything I did for him, after saving his life and rebuilding him from the ground up, he decides to repay me how? By forgetting about me and standing me up on the most important day of my life? Seems pretty unforgettable to me.”

“There is a great balance in this world. And to keep it, the Cauldron dishes out magic and illusions to offset it. Lucien got the short end of the stick and got more than he could handle.”

“Well that's not my fault.”

“No,” she shakes her head. “But it is your problem. Yn, all I’m suggesting is you give him a chance. There is no telling what will happen between you two if you don’t try.”

“I don’t want to try, what if I make things worse? What if it doesn’t work out?”

“But what if it does?” _____

But what if it does? I have been doing nothing all service besides thinking what Ms. Immy last said to me. But what if it does? I start spiriling with questions after that. 

What if it does work out? Will I be able to fully trust that he won’t run back to Elaine? If it doesn't, will I just spend the rest of my life trying to find him in everyone else? Will I ever find someone else? How can I be so sure that he’ll want me in his life after I’ve kicked him out? If I see him, will I want to punch him in the face? Could I even stomach looking at him? Would I just puke from nerves and anger? Should I even bother? What if I never get the chance to-

“Yn, there is a table seated in section 8 for you,” my lovely hostess, Esmira, calls from the window.

“I’ve got six pans on right now, Es. I can’t just take a table. Where are Karos and Daxillion? They’re supposed to have a handle on this right now.”

“We’ve got a full house. It’s the High Lord and Lady, as well as her sister and the General.”

Shit. It’s midweek, why do we have a full house? Especially at lunch. From what I’ve heard amongst my staff's gossip, Lucien has been living at his house. I don’t want to see anyone. Especially someone who’s been caring for him. 

“Okay… okay fine I’ll take the table. Go take their drink orders and I’ll be right back. Esro, I need you to cover my station in between checks.”

“Heard,” he calls back dutifully. He always takes the shit I give him and dusts it with gold. I should give him a raise. 

I jog to the supply closet where I have an extra uniform stashed in case of an emergency. I change quickly, taking my cap off and fluffing out my hair. Not bad but… not great. I still look so tired. 

Esmira scampers into the bathroom to hand me their drink list. A bottle of wine and water for the table. Easy enough. 

Racking the glasses onto the carrier, I haul the bottle of wine and decanter of water to the table, plastering a courageous smile on my lips. Who knows if it’s actually convincing. 

“Evening, my High Lord and Lady,” I greet. “Cassian and-” Elain. It’s Elain. What is she doing- “Elain. Good to see you out and-”

“You don’t have to pretend to be excited to see me. I know you’re not. I ruined your relationship with Lucien.”

Well, shit okay guess this is happening now. What do I say? “He made a choice, it’s not your fault.” I settled on. 

But it is your problem… screw you Ms. Immy. 

She looks hesitantly to the High Lord, who gives a firm nod. She sighs. “I’ve tried to stop him from pursuing me for months. He still comes back. I share no bond with the firehead.”

Firehead, ha! Why had I never thought of that one?

I just press my lips together, fighting off the prickle in my nose and throat. “Can I take your meal orders? Anything you’d like to start with?”

“He misses you, Yn.” Rhysand spoke. His violet eyes swirling with stars. “Is there a chance you’ll talk to him?”

I feel like such an outsider looking at the Inner Circle. There were so many outcomes I could’ve had in Velaris. I could’ve been a part of their Court, not just an inhabitant. But I chose the path my heart wanted, and lost the thing it needed most. 

I swipe the tear away as fast as it falls. 

“I’ll bring a round of bread for the table.” And I head off. 

____

After I had served them their meals, bid them farewell with a pitiful look on the High Lords face, the room was a lost less crowded. 

Now I’m starting to wonder if we were meant to say goodbye. Maybe there is something salvageable. But I don’t want to shred myself to pieces for a maybe. Even he is not worthy of my self destruction. 

But what if it does?

“Hello?” A sultry voice says from behind me. I rack the polished pint glass and turn over my shoulder, greeted with a handsome face. Too handsome… curse these high fae. He’s got rippling muscles as he crosses his arms over his chest, eyes a vibrant, ashy caramel. And his hair… “I’m looking for Yn?”

What does he want? “Is there something I can help you with?”

“For once, my brother wasn’t reserved in his descriptions.”

What? His brother? I stare at the male, taking in his sharp nose, those eyes like fire, his hair… oh Gods-

“I’m Lucien’s brother, Eris.”

I stay silent, taking in his face. Fuck, there is a lot of Lucien there. More than I’d like to see. They have the same eyes and hair. And it hurts to see so much of him in someone else.

“Now, I don’t particularly care that much about who you are-” 

Charming. 

“-but I do know you made my brother happy. At one point or another. I also don’t care what happened between the two of you, but it must’ve been bad.”

“Leave.”

“Whether or not you talk to my sorry bastard brother means nothing to me. But if I have to deal with one more Court meeting where Rhys and his brute ask me if I’ve talked to him, I will rip off my own ears.”

“I asked you to leave my restaurant.”

“Is this how you treat all your customers?”

I narrowed my eyes, “You are not a customer, you haven’t ordered anything. So have a good day, Eris.”

“I’ll take a pint of ale,” he smirks. Smirks, like I’ve got all the time in the world to listen to him babble about how much he wants me to talk to Lucien. 

With a viscous yank, I pull off the glass I just put away and fix it under the tap. I debate spitting in it. That most certainly would not end well for me or my restaurant. I’ve already had one Vanserra ruin my life, I don’t need another to ruin the only hope I have left.

I slap the glass down in front of him, turning around to finish unloading the clean dishes from the drying racks. 

“So,” he slurps his drink, “when are you going to fix your shit with Lucien?”

“I’m not.”

“Why not?”

“Because he hasn’t earned my forgiveness.”

“What would it take?”

“Doesn’t matter. I won’t forgive him.” Can he stop asking me so many fucking questions? I just want to clean up, shut down the kitchen, hand out todays tips and go the fuck home. 

“Why?”

My hands came down on the steel counter, rattling plates and saucers. “Why are you so fucking concerned with something that isn’t your problem?”

He goes quiet for a second, and I’m blessed with a moment of peace from his irritating voice. “Because, despite being nothing but a pain in my ass, he’s still my brother. And he’s miserable. And you’re the reason why.”

“No,” I snapped, ready to hurl a glass at his thick fucking skull. “He’s the reason he’s miserable. He did all the damage on his own. All I did was ask him to be there for me, and he threw me aside like a stray cat begging for a warm meal.”

“What did he do?”

“It’s none of your business, Eris. Go away, the bar is closing.”

“I still have a tab open.”

“Then come back tomorrow and pay it.”

“But I’ll be away.”

“Then it’s on the house,” I sighed, too exhausted to deal with this. “Just go. Please.”

“As soon as you tell me what he did I’ll-”

“He fucking ruined me, thats what he did.” Thank god the restaurant was empty or else the whole city would know that I’ve been completely shattered by Lucien Vanserra. Who am I kidding, I’m sure everyone already does. “All I asked was that he be there for me the day I opened my restaurant.”

Eris puts his palms up, “well? Where was he?”

“Where do you think?” The glare I sent him made him back off. 

“Oh…”

I scoff, “yeah, oh. I gave up everything for him. My family, my home, my life to restore him after he fled to the Spring Court. I just wanted his support. And he was busy with a female who would rather be tortured than in his presence.”

“I don’t think it’s fair to blame Elain for-”

“I wasn’t blaming Elain,” I corrected. “Lucien let me down. Unforgivably. That's the end of it. I don’t want an apology from him, it won’t do anything for me.”

Eris let out a long sigh. “Look, I understand that he hurt you. I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings. He fucked up. Point blank. He’ll never be able to take back what he did and said. But is there any way that the two of you may be able to move on?”

“Move on?” I scoffed, a cruel laugh escaping me. “Move on? Eris, I confessed to him that I am his mate, and he told me I was selfish because I wasn’t happy about him and Elain.”

“Were you?”

“Of course I was,” I ran my palms over my face. “Did it hurt knowing he’d never look at me like that? Yes, but I was prepared to live with it if it meant that he got to live a happy, fulfilled life. I didn’t care who it was, it was the fact that he forgot all about me. On more than one occasion. Menu designs, recipe tastings, wine tastings… all of it. He missed all of it to go be with her.”

“So you’re jealous?”

It took everything inside me to not rear up and smack him across the face. Who does this asshole think he is? Instead of possibly earning myself more trouble, I take his glass of ale off the counter, dump it, and rinse the glass. 

“I wasn’t done with-”

“Well, you’re done now. Thank you for dining with Latibule, but the restaurant is officially closed. See yourself out.”

Eris clicks his tongue, pushing off the bar. The rustling of his clothes chafes together as he walks away. “Lucien cares about you, Yn. From the very few mentions of you he’s shared, I can tell he thinks highly of you, no matter what you may think.”

Then the door snaps closed, and I’m left with nothing but a pulse in my ear and tears in my eyes.

____

After a quick mop in the kitchen I shut off all the lights and lock the front door. As I’m walking down the street, a thick, crackling scent hits me. And my stomach churns. It’s familiar, part of it still lingering in my house. But this one is more… just more.

“Eris, leave me alone.”

“I did a lap around the block, and I was thinking-”

“Hope you didn’t hurt yourself too bad.”

Eris chuckles, then laughs. “Feisty, I can see why Lucien would like you. Just give him a chance.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Why are you Autumn Court fae so fucking dense?”

“Just be thankful it was me and not my father who came to see you, then you’d really see dense.”

“Please,” I rolled my eyes. “If I ever came face to face with that bastard I’d do a lot more than hurl words at him. I’m not particularly fond of you either, so be careful how you speak to me.”

“What if I arranged a meeting for the both of you? To talk things out and see if there is any common ground to be found,” Eris suggested, falling in stride with me as I walked up the path, back towards home. 

“Gonna pass on that one. If I wanted to ‘arrange a meeting’, I would’ve already done it. I don’t need Lucien's big, scary older brother to do it for me,” I mocked. 

“You think I’m scary?” He smiled.

“I think you’re annoying and disrespectful.”

“A lot of the High Lords of Prythian would agree, try not to be so original.”

Don’t rip out his eyes, don’t rip out his eyes. He’s just trying to get under your skin, don’t let him win.

“Come to think of it, there is one High Lord in particular who seems to agree with this idea of trying to get you and Lucien back together.”

“If you even think about dragging Rhysand into this-”

“He approached me,” Eris admits. “He’s sick of Lucien moping around the Town House all the time.”

“Then tell him my advice is to kick him out,” I bit out, more than tired of this conversation. “And stop following me, Eris. Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of.”

“But I have to make sure you get home safe, Lucien would have my head if something happened to you,” Eris reasons, knocking his shoulder into mine. 

“Is there an imminent threat against my life, Eris Vanserra?”

“No?” 

“Then there is no need for you to walk me home.”

“But if there was an imminent threat, I would be able to protect you,” Eris smiled, and curse me… it’s a nice smile. I glare up at him, but he just smirks back. 

I decided to seal my lips. If I don’t respond, he can’t get any more information out of me. 

“Just think about this for a minute: if you decide to have a conversation, one of two things is going to happen. You’re either going to confirm everything you already know; he’s an uncaring, forgetful bastard who doesn’t give a shit about you or the lives you two have built together. Or, you’re going to realize the exact opposite; that he does care, and it was all a misunderstanding. And that he does care about the life the two of you have built together.”

I can’t be bothered to care about what he wants anymore. I’ve spent too much of my life caring for his every waking need. When is it my turn?

“You are his mate, Yn. It goes against every instinct in your body to reject him. Why do you keep fighting yourself on what your heart wants?”

Because he betrayed me. He completely broke my trust, ruined my image of him in one night. Why does no one understand that? 

“I get it, he hurt you or whatever, but are you really going to risk the chance of eternity together with him because of one mistake?”

He and Ms. Immy would get along well. And it wasn’t just one fucking mistake, it was about seventeen. Apologies don’t mean a thing if you don’t ever fix what you did wrong. I can see my house, just a few hundred yards away. I can slam the door in his fucking face and spend the rest of my night doing anything but thinking about Lucien. 

“Yn, just answer me,” Eris demands. “I know there isn’t anyone you’ve talked to.”

“No you don’t.”

“Have you talked with anyone about this?” I stay quiet. “Exactly, you need to release this. To scream and shout and yell-”

“I’ve tried that. Didn’t do anything for me.”

“Have you punched anything? I like doing that when I’m mad,” Eris snickered. 

I just rolled my eyes. “I’m about to punch something soon.” He takes a step back as I finally reach my door. I unlock it and push it open, kicking off my boots at the door. I have no reason to be bitter to Eris. he’s just trying to help, trying to be there for his brother. Now, whether or not he’s doing it in the best way is certainly debatable. But at least he’s trying. I sigh, feeling incredibly defeated. “Would you like a drink?”

His smile is softer, and he gives a nod, following me inside. 

As I make us a drink, he looks around the kitchen and the living room. 

“Gods it looks just like the Autumn Court in here,” he chuckles, picking up a pillow from one of the chairs. 

“Yeah, Lucien did most of the decorating.”

“It’s gotta be difficult to see it every day.”

I bite back a sob, “You have no idea.”

“I know I am not the easiest person to get along with, or the most…tender, but if you are hurting this bad, then I know Luc must’ve been special to you. And you special to him. So, if there is anything I can do, tell me.”

As I slid the glass across the counter, I stared at my hands. Would talking about this really make a difference? I just feel like it keeps opening up old wounds without giving them the time to heal. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to move on.”

Eris looks at me, thick brows knitted together. “Because you miss him?”

As much as it hurts to admit, I nod. “So fucking much, Eris.”

“Now, do you miss him, or just having someone to share a space with?”

I blink up to meet his eyes, the ashy-caramel irises full of so much life. “I miss him. I don’t know when he started distancing from me, but I clearly didn’t notice it quick enough. I started to miss his smile first. He stopped laughing for a while after he met Elain. The creases between his eyes replaced those around his mouth.”

“Yn-”

“He started being late to everything next. He would apologize but… they weren’t sincere. I tried not to be hurt by it but… I don’t know. I thought maybe it had to do with stuff happening from the Spring Court and with Tamlin. Doesn’t matter, it just kept getting worse. He’d only talk about Elain, ask for advice on what to do since ‘I was a female’.”

“Oh Lucien…” Eris rubs his eyes. “Even for him that's low.”

“Yeah. I don’t know why I didn’t snap earlier. Part of me wanted to hold onto something I knew I couldn’t have. Then came the grand opening and once he was late for that?” I shook my head, biting my lips so as to not sob in front of Eris. “Nothing he could’ve done would’ve made up for that.”

I don’t know why I’m opening up to Eris. He’s probably just going to relay it word for word back to Lucien. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. 

“None of what he did is excusable,” Eris says. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t understand. He wanted to spend time with his mate. He just wanted her to know that someone was there for her. But did he do it the right way? Absolutely not. And he fucked up, really bad.”

“Can I give you something?”

Eris just stared blankly at me. “What?”

“Just stay here for a moment,” I set my glass down, charging up the stairs. It’s been burning a hole in the bottom of my closet since I found it a few weeks ago. The lump of midnight blue fabric was a crumpled mess, but his scent still lingered on it. 

I held it up to my nose. Inhaling deep. It’s time to let go. 

As I stand in front of Eris, I hold out the shirt. My throat is like liquid iron. “Give this back to him, will you? It was one of his favorites.”

This shirt… this god damned shirt. It always looked so good on him. With the color of his skin and the tone of his hair. All the jewel tones made him look marvelous, but there was something about the teal color. Tears slid onto my cheeks. The first night he wore this shirt was when Rhysand and Cassian took him out to dinner. “To try and get to know me better,” Lucien said. He thought they were going to interrogate him. But he wore this shirt with dark blue pants and black leather boots. His hair was braided away from his face… I braided it back away from his face. 

Eris’s hand on my cheek pulls me out of the memory and into his eyes. “Did you keep this, knowing it was his favorite, hoping one day he’d come back looking for it?”

The fact that he figured it out so easily made my blood run cold. I tried to answer, but the sound of the door creaking open made me forget what I was going to say.

My heart dropped.

Eris’s hand was frozen on my cheek.

Lucien dead still in the doorway. What is he doing here?

Eris clears his throat, taking the warmth of his hand as he drops it to his side. “Brother, perfect timing.” Perfect timing? Did he- “No, I didn’t plan this, Yn. Though I respect you for thinking me so clever.” Eris turned me, blocking my view of Lucien. He folded the wrinkled shirt in my palms. “This is your chance.”

And then he left. He slipped around Lucien with a subtle glare and shut the door behind him. 

Lucien looks… he looks so…

“I thought you would be at the restaurant,” he spoke, voice low and cool. “I can came back-”

“What did you want?” I asked, curious as to why he’d be back here ever again. 

“Actually I wanted um… I came here for that shirt.”

Oh. Oh. My heart hammered against my ribs. “Yeah, yeah, take it. I found it doing laundry a bit ago.”

Lucien crosses the threshold of the room and takes it from me. I’m waiting for him to ask me about Eris. To ask about how I’ve been. Or to apologize. Gods Luc, please say something.

“I see you met my brother. What did he want?” 

Here we go. “He walked me home from Latibule.”

“Oh,” he nods. “Well, I hope he wasn’t too much of a pain.”

I snicker, but refrain from further details. “You look well.”

He did, he looked healthy. His arms and chest fill out his shirt in a way they never used to.

“I’ve been training with Cassian for a while,” he explained. That’ll do it, I guess.

“Sounds exhausting.”

He gives a faint chuckle, “It’s interesting.”

Then we just look at each other. My heart swells, and crashes down. My fingers and toes go numb and my head feels lighter. I want him to stop looking at me so intently, yet I don’t want him to leave. Ever again. I want him to stay here and build a home with me. A new home with new memories and new adventures. But the logical part of me knows it’ll never quite be the same. 

“Why was Eris here?”

“I told you he walked me home from Latibule.” He gave me a look that screamed ‘I’m not buying that shit’. I must have no resolve because I caved instantly. “He came and found me to talk about you.”

I’ve never seen Lucien look so worried in my seventy years of knowing him. “Why?”

“He wanted to know if I’d ever forgive you. Apparently he’s tired of dealing with Rhysand begging him to talk to you so he came to me.”

“Yn,” Lucien’s eyes sulk, “If I had known Eris would’ve found you I would've just talked to him. I just wanted him gone and away from me. I didn’t mean to drag you further into this.”

“It’s fine, he only mildly insulted me. I see where you get it from.” It was a low blow, but seeing him wince made me feel a bit better. It was petty. But cathartic. 

Silence stretched between us. Wrapping around me like a pit viper after delivering a lethal dose of venom to its prey. It constricted and constricted and constricted-

“I love you.”

I almost looked around the room to see if someone else spoke. But it was his mouth that moved, and it was his voice that sang. 

“What?”

“I love you, Yn.”

“No-”

“I love you,” he gasps, tears filling his eyes. “I-I… I am so in love with you.”

“Lucien stop,” I beg, that numbness spreading up my arms and calves. 

“I am so so fucking sorry for the way I treated you. You are so undeserving of that after all that you did for me. I was selfish and blinded by what I thought I wanted. You were right, Yn. About everything. I never once considered that it could be you because I just always knew you’d be in my life. I never thought that I’d lose you but when I did I… I broke. I can’t live without you. I need you. I love you.”

“You don’t get to decide that you want me and then waltz back into my life. That is not how this works.”

“Please Yn just give me a chance to apologize and make things right.”

“No,” I shouted, anger leaching into my tone. “No, I gave you one too many chances I think. I have given you too much, Lucien. More than enough for one lifetime and you're just now realizing that you want me back? ”

“I’ve always known I’ve loved you Yn. I just didn't understand how much. Or in what way. And I know that’s my fault and my problem. In some way I was cursed by the cauldron to have two mates. But it blessed me with one who cared enough about me to take my broken spirit and make it whole again.”

“Good luck finding someone to do it again because it will not be me this time.” I crossed my arms over my chest, turning away from him. 

“Yn please just- just let me speak. I truly didn’t mean to hurt you. I got so caught up in the fact that I finally had a choice in this world that I forgot to think about everything else in my life. I never meant for you to feel anything but loved and appreciated.”

“Lucien, you somehow managed to achieve everything you meant not to do.”

A sob tore through Lucien. And one tore through me too. “You never gave up on me, not once. From day one you have always believed in me, what happened? What changed?”

“You’re complete and utter recognition of my existence changed, Lucien!” I screamed, not caring who heard me. “Ever since the war ended you haven’t paid me the closest bit of real, undivided attention. You only spoke to me if it was about Elain, what dinner was going to be, or if I had gotten the next project done on the restaurant. But not once did you ask me how I was doing or if I wanted to go out for a fun night. I just faded away into the back of your mind.”

My blood curled against my bone while I waited for a response. He stared at the floor, eyes darting around and around.

“I’m so so so sorry, Yn.”

“I’m sure you are.” More empty apologies

“How do I fix this? Tell me what to do. I’ll do fucking anything you want just tell me- please Yn I can’t leave here without saying I gave us every chance we had-”

“And I told you I gave you one too many chances to apologize.”

I refuse to be walked all over. I refuse to be second place. I refuse to be treated as anything but a first priority. My heart is too big sometimes, and I’ve been known to forgive under less likely circumstances, but this is where I draw the line. 

Lucien gets down on his knees. “Please, my Yn. I have nothing without you. You are entwined in every corner and crevice of my soul. I know I’m undeserving of you. But somewhere deep down I think you still love me. Even if you hate me right now, and I do not blame you. I have been an awful person-”

“Lucien please don’t-” my throat feels like it’s swelling closed.

“-but I cannot see a future without you in it. If I don’t have you by my side, then all of this is useless. All these heartbeats, all these breaths of oxygen are worthless without you giving me a reason to have them.”

I try to get a grip on the world spinning around me, but it’s of no use. “Lucien get up.”

“No,” he shakes his head, pieces of his hair falling loose to frame his face. In times like these I would once comfort him. Place my hands on his cheeks and tell him how worthy he is of love and protection. And here he is, trying to do the same for me. “No, I need you to listen to me.”

“I don’t wanna hear what you have to say.”

“I don’t care. I have to tell you otherwise I might burn alive. I have never regretted a day more in my life than that night a month and a half ago. It haunts my every waking nightmare. On repeat, every night for me to relive and beat myself up over. I deserve every second of it. You’re right, I did discard you to the side like you were nothing. And I sweat my life on the Cauldron that I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t know I was doing it until you pointed it out to me. Then I just… I fell apart.

“I had no idea what to do, where to go. Ask anyone, for weeks I was unable to get out of bed after I came and got my stuff from here. The only person I talked to was Ms. Immy. Even she knew about it. She told me to respect your wishes, to not neglect them like I had neglected you in the past and I might have hope. So as hard as it was, I stayed away. Because I didn’t want to make things worse than they already were. Ms. Immy told me it wasn’t my fault that I neglected you- well… it was, but- but it was now my problem. To try and fix it. And she’s right, you’re right. Fucking everyone is right. I just want to fix this with you.”

It’s not your fault, but it is your problem. Damn that wise hag. 

My muscles are so taught they begin to ache. I can’t handle this, I don’t want to handle this. I want him gone- no… no I want him to stay and tell me how much he’s fucked up. To validate me because he spent so much time doing the opposite. 

“What if I don’t want you to fix things?” I asked. “What if I wanted you to leave and never come back?”

“That’s not an option. Being out of your life has never been an option. I want you more than anything I could think of. I am going to fix this between us one way or another, today, tomorrow, or a hundred years from now. But I will never stop trying because I love you.”

“Don’t say that,” I plead, turning away from him. His hand wrapped around my forearm, locking me in place. “Let go of me. Now.” 

“Not until you give me a legit reason why we cannot fix what we have. Yn, you have given your entire life to me. Let me return all those years back to you.”

“I don’t want you t-”

“You don’t have to forgive me today, but let me try to make it up to you. My Spirit of the Gods, who cares so much more about the lives of others than her own. Let me be the one who cares about you. Let me bear the weight of your burdens.”

“Lucine stop talking.”

“No,” he roared, shaking his head. “I need you to understand that I won’t stop trying to fix things with you no matter how much you hate me. I love you too much to let you slip through my fingers. I made the biggest mistake of my life when I blew off the most important night of your life. Through everything, you were there for me, and I didn’t return the favor when it mattered most. You worked so fucking hard on Latibue, Yn. And I am so unbelievably proud of you. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there to support you.”

“For Cauldron's sake, Lucien, shut up.”

“Why are you refusing to listen to anything I have to say?”

“Because if you say one more Gods damned thing about how much you love me and how fucking sorry you are, I might just forgive you and I am not ready to forgive you because I am still livid with you!” The confession tears from my lungs. I heave for a breath, carefully watching Lucien. “I’m not ready to be comforted by someone who hurt me so badly.”

“Then I’ll give you time,” Lucien’s eyes soften as he stands. “I can live with you being angry at me, but I can’t live without you at all.”

“I can’t possibly know how long that’ll take.”

“I don’t care how long it’ll take,” he shrugs. “I’ll wait until our souls pass again if I have to.”

My mind is too cluttered. My heart in too many shards. “You don’t need to wait for me. I’ll be fine on my own.”

“I know you will,” he smiles. Oh how I’ve missed his smile. His smile. “But that doesn’t mean you need to be.”

He wants to fix things, he was begging on his knees for you to listen to him. He’s okay with you being angry at him as long as you give him a chance. He loves you. He loves you back. After all these years, everything you’ve been waiting for… it’s right in front of you. Even if it hurts, even if you’re scared it is better to do it afraid then not at all.

I broke down into tears, my chest wracked with sobs. All this locked up pain and indignation exploding out at once. And Lucien is right there to keep me from falling. “Shh, Yn it’s okay,” he purrs, holding me so tight I can’t breathe. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I have spent so long loving this boy, begging him silently to love me back. And here he is… why can’t I find the space inside me to let him in?

“Lucien…”

“My Yn,” he breathes, cradling my head to his chest. 

I take a deep breath. “I love you.”

I feel his body relax.

“And I think you should leave.”

His body goes rigid. He pulls away, hands reaching to cup my face, but settling on the backs of my arms. “W-What? Why do you-”

“If you spent all this time waiting for it to be the right moment to make peace with me but never taking the opportunity then it’s too late.”

“Yn please- this is me taking the opportunity.”

“No,” I shake my head, sniffling. “This was just a coincidence. You didn't come here with the intention of making amends. You came here just to get a shirt. So here,” I picked up the shirt, shoving it in his chest. “Take it. And go.”

“Wait-” I began to push him to the door. “Yn wait! Yes I came here to get my shirt. No, I didn’t think you’d be here. But you were. So I took a chance. I took a risk for you.”

“Do you really think I’m so naive?” I scoffed, opening the door and shoving him through, rougher than I intended. “If you want me, then you’re going to have to do a lot better than getting down on your knees and saying you love me.”

“What do you want me to do? I’ll do anything, anything.”

“If you need me to tell you, then there’s no hope for us.”

He stares at me, eyes begging, pleading, hoping and praying that I’ll just tell him. Despite the slight sweat on my skin, my body feels calm. Powerful. I feel in control. 

Then his lips are on mine, and any sense of reality I have comes crashing down. 

[amothersmagik]

⚠️TW: Loss, TTC After loss, etc⚠️

Excuse me while I whine and vent? I am struggling horribly right now as I come out of a period of numbness (my therapist calls it *"disassociating"* 😅🙃) and I need to get these thoughts out.

"I'm okay.

No really.

I swear I'm okay"

Hiccuping and deep trembling breaths.

"Some days are better than others"

Still true, though right now there is snot and tears pouring down my face.

"I'll be fine. I'm healing"

And I was totally fine that day. Until the sun shone through the trees *just right* and I thought about how bad I wished she were here to see it.

"We haven't given up, it will happen when it's supposed to"

Though right now it feels like never....

"Aw your baby is so adorable! I am so happy for you!"

Still VERY true even though I feel this gut wrenching soul tearing bring me to my knees sharp stabbing ache in my very soul everytime your baby giggles, cries, or breathes.

"I had let it rest at the back of my mind"

Until that advert flashed by my eyes and suddenly the rage and despair overtook me like a hurricane with no warning.

Some days I am okay. Truly. I can talk about it. I can be the advocate I proclaim myself to be and talk about all the hard things. I can smile, and mean it, and talk about *someday*.

I can take the crappy advice and condolences of those who have NEVER been here with a smile that only hints of a grimace rather than the annoyed and pained scowl I've felt on my face before (when faced with the same comments on a different day).

Some days I absolutely look to all the world like a well adjusted, healed, happy Momma who takes joy in that which she HAS instead of despairing over what she has LOST.

And then there are days like today. When I did virtually nothing. It wasn't a Bad day. It was a nothing day. I zoned out. I was numb. I laid around and barely interacted with my loved ones.

And then there are the days like two days ago. When my brain replays every moment from the most recent loss. Compares it to previous losses. I think about what's wrong with me that I can't do the one thing a woman's body was originally designed to do? What have I done that God is punishing me so? What could I have done differently to save her? To save any of them?

I replay that moment when my knees hit the tile and I heard this horrible wailing and it took me a minute to realize it was me. (Later that same evening I was apologizing in semi-numb embarrassment to the nurse because they uncomfortably confirmed what I had belatedly realized - the whole damn hospital heard my pained screams that evening in the ER). I can't get the feeling out of my head - that feeling of WRONG as I walked into that ER and EVERYTHING HURT. And I knew before I was even registered what was happening.

I have bad days SO bad, even I wonder if maybe this is me finally snapping. If I've reached the end of what my soul can handle. I sit and I cry over the wind, because it feels warm and rocking her to sleep in the backyard on a warm summer day would have been perfect. I cry because that butterfly was a beautiful light blue like her eyes would have been. I cry because that baby giggle at the park sounded so much like my son, it could have been one of his siblings, had any of them lived.

I cry because my arms are empty and I really wish they weren't.

And as I sit and cry and can't explain what set me off this time because sometimes I don't even KNOW....

Tiny (but somehow so huge) arms encircle my head. Just my head because thats all they can manage. The sloppy-est kiss lands on my forehead. "I love your heart, Momma. You're okay. You're a good Momma"

The tears fall harder but a smile breaks through.

Days go by and I watch him giggle with his friend and get so dirty I have NO IDEA how he will ever get clean again. So I shake my head and huff a laugh. What else can you do in the face of toddler boys playing outside?

My heart soars and heals a little watching his face light up over whatever bug he just found in the grass.... oh geez, that he bringing over to show me 🤢

I take a deep breath and know I'm going to be okay, even though it hurts so bad....because the love of my son is beautiful.

He asked me a couple days ago why we don't talk about her anymore, the baby in Mommas tummy. I explain that she went to be with the Grandpas and Auntie and the kitties. He says "oh thats sad. I love you mumma" and gives me a forehead kiss (which he most definitely learned from watching Daddy too close lol) and runs back to play in the sand box.

Today he fell asleep sprawled on the couch and my husband held me while we stood in silence and just watched him for a moment. We made quiet comments about how much he has grown. It hurt. Because my angels never will. But it healed. Because he is healthy and beautiful and perfect.

He is so ready to be a big brother. We are so ready for another one. I feel soooo crazy. Flopping back and forth between joyous hope and love, blinding numbness, and agonizing despair. I feel like I'm losing my mind. Then daddy (husband) holds me and reminds me how much he loves me and how we won't give up until I say I'm done.

Things will get better. They will. I know they will. Most days I know this and can cope fine...some days are harder than others. Today is numb. But tomorrow will be better.

*[For context: I lost our baby this past Sunday. She was my 9th pregnancy. Our son is our only shared living child and was my 5th pregnancy.]*

[purple-babygirl]

you got me reading all your works from 4 AM till 6 AM today, and I have zero regrets. And I’d do it all again. I truly love all of your works, especially those that has anything to do with Bucky.

Now all I can think about is Bucky’s reaction and care to finding out that his Little got an injury—one that she been hiding from him. Omg the fluff.

Anyway, have a great day!

Pairing: Poly!SamBucky x little!f!reader

Word count: 3,381 (i know i know...)

Warnings: polyamory, ddlg dynamics, excessive, probably unnecessary, fluff no one asked for.

A/N: Nonnie, I'm honored💜. Thank you so much for sending me this, you've warmed my heart to no extent💜💜. It is everything when you tell me you like what I share with you. You're so amazing and I hope I'll always deliver and never disappoint you ily:"💜 I know you only said Bucky but I couldn't help but get Papa!Sam in there too, hope you're not mad at me?:" Please enjoy xx.

~~

don't hide

"Oh, we forgot the toilet paper!" Sam groaned, "I'll go get it. Wait here, sugar, okay? Eyes on the bags and don't move. Papa will be right back," he said before marching back to the big store's entrance, leaving her by the car with all the grocery bags.

Papa said to wait there. Papa warned her that the ground was snowy and slippery and dangerous. Papa told her not to move, she reminded herself but she just couldn't help it. She had to grab that orange.

A bag had fallen on its side out of nowhere and an orange had fallen out and rolled away. She needed to get it before Papa came back or else he'd know she wasn't watching the bags and was zoned out instead. She'd be careful and she'd take the fruit and come back to where Papa left her and he wouldn't even know it. She'd take small steps and she'd be quick. Plus, she was a big girl; she'd never slip, right?

Wrong.

Before she could catch herself, her foot was slipping, her arms were flailing and she was on her back on the cold, hard icy ground. She squeaked, pain shooting through her spine like an electric shock. Through panic and pain, she got hold of the stray fruit, managing to get herself up and back to where she was supposed to be standing the whole time before Sam made his way back to her.

"There we go," Sam sighed, setting the bag with the toilet paper beside the others and opening the car.

She was silent, biting down on her lip to stifle the pained whimpers ready to leave her mouth.

"You ready to go, sugar?" He asked her as he stacked the last bag in the car, slamming the back shut.

"Yes, papa." She nodded, the bones supporting her neck hurting as she tried her best not to cry when she slightly bent to get in the backseat.

She didn't say anything. She couldn't. Daddy and Papa were taking her sledding in the park the next day and she couldn't even be good and obey one single thing she was told. They'd definitely cancel the whole day and make her stay home if they knew what she did. And not only that but she'd surely be punished for not listening and not being careful enough. She could take it. She could play, sled and smile through the pain. Plus, she was a big girl; she could handle a little fall, right?

Wrong.

Her back was killing her. She tried not to hiss when Papa put her seat belt on for her. She had no idea how she'd make it through the day.

~

"Show daddy what you got him, sugar!" Sam encouraged after leaving the bag of goods on the table for her, walking to the kitchen to drop a bunch of grocery bags

She carefully pulled a chair out and slowly climbed on top, rummaging through the bag until she found a packet of Bucky's favourite cookies. She'd pointed at them as soon as she saw them at the store and didn't stop until Papa got them down the high shelf and into the cart.

Bucky's appreciative smile lit up the room, "oh, for me?"

"Yes, daddy. Got 'em for you." She nodded timidly, playing with her sleeve.

He accepted the cookies with a giddy grin and went to store them in place in the kitchen. She giggled, proud she was the reason Daddy was smiling.

"Thank you, love." Before she could stop him, Bucky was hugging her tight, metal arm pressing on her back to pull her body to his.

The chocked whimper she let out didn't go unnoticed by the super soldier.

"You okay, doll?" Bucky raised a worried brow, flesh hand rubbing circles on her back as a sort of habit.

"Yes, daddy. I'm fine," she lied, held-in tears burning the back of her eyes. She just needed him to stop touching her spine.

"You sure?"

"Sugar, go wash your hands we just got back from outside," Sam reminded, saving her from repeating the lie to Bucky.

"Yes, papa." Her socked feet padded on the floor as she left for the bathroom.

Bucky shrugged it off for now, walking outside to help Sam with the bags. She probably wanted more candy than she was allowed and Sam refused or something of that sort.

~

When she was done washing her hands, she tiptoed to her bedroom and did her best to redress herself fast. Her discoloured skin looked awful in the mirror. She couldn't let her daddies see the huge bruise that was forming on her back, innocently praying it'd disappear over night so they could still go sledding the next morning.

"You changed by yourself?" Sam furrowed his eyebrows upon seeing her in a comfier outfit. He knew for a fact Bucky didn't help her because he was washing strawberries in the sink behind him.

"Yes, papa," she muttered hesitantly, fearing his reaction.

"Why didn't you call me or daddy, baby? We could've helped."

"Papa and daddy are busy, didn' wanna bother you," she lied again.

"Doll, we'll never be too busy to look after our favourite girl. You can always ask for daddy and papa's help, okay?" Bucky assured her gently.

"Yes, dada."

"Good girl, here," Bucky grinned, offering her a strawberry.

"Tank you." She took it with a smile and hummed after the first bite, making Sam chuckle.

"You did a good job dressing yourself, sugar. We're proud of you." Sam let his hand cradle the small of her back so he could kiss her forehead.

She whimpered again, biting her lip hard and closing her eyes.

"Everything alright, baby?"

"Yes, papa. Strawberry tastes so good."

"Okay, baby. Go play in your room till me and daddy get lunch ready."

"Yes, papa." She pecked Sam's cheek before leaving the kitchen.

"She's lying," Bucky told his husband as soon as she got inside her playroom.

"I know."

~

She spent the rest of the morning suffering in silence. Her back hurt whenever it came in contact with anything. She couldn't lean forward, or backward. She couldn't even lay down for nap time, crying into her pillow as soon as her daddies left the room.

She'd try not to whine when Daddy's palm touched her upper back. She couldn't enjoy watching her favourite show on TV because she was too busy trying not to pull away when Papa hugged her to his chest while she was on his lap.

As the hours passed, she was in so much pain it was showing all over her face. Sam and Bucky were worried that she wasn't saying anything. They knew something was wrong they just didn't know what. They failed to notice her features scrunching up in pain whenever they touched her because, in their defense, they were always touching her. So they couldn't really pinpoint the problem.

"There you go, sugar." Sam handed her a plastic cup, half full of strawberry milk he'd just whipped in the blender for her.

"Thank you, papa." She smiled gratefully, stretching her neck to kiss his cheek, her face twisting in pain as a result.

"Doll, are you sure you're okay? Do you have a tummy ache? Do you feel sick?" Bucky questioned softly, all while rubbing circles on her upper back.

"No, dada. I'm okay," she continued to lie, sipping from her straw quickly so maybe Bucky would stop and let her drink in peace.

Bucky looked to Sam in defeat and the latter just shrugged at him helplessly.

"Love, me and papa are worried there's something you're not telling us." Bucky's hand caressed further down to the small of her back and she couldn't help but wince, dropping her cup.

Strawberry milk covered her chest and lap and she couldn't hold it in anymore. She started crying and apologizing, thinking there was no way out of punishment for her now. They were going to find out.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, sugar. It was an accident. It's okay." Sam tried to soothe her but her cries only grew louder as she let all the tears out.

Her body hurt so bad and it didn't help that Bucky was patting her back to calm her coughs and sobs.

"Come with me, doll. Let's get you cleaned up." She cried harder at Bucky's statement, knowing they were going to see her back now.

"No, daddy, please. Don't wanna." She shook her head, choking on her tears. She made no effort to go to his open arms like she would.

It broke Bucky's heart a tiny bit. He started to think he'd done something; that she was like that all day because of him for some reason.

"But baby, you're soaked in milk. You can't stay like that!" Sam didn't wait for her refusal, slipping his arms under her legs and carrying her body off the couch.

"No, no, papa, please." Her tears wet Sam's sweater, her thrashing hurting her muscles even more.

"Stop crying, sugar. Tell me what's wrong," Sam said, sitting down on the closed toilet lid with her on his lap.

She remained silent, her fist rubbing at her teary eye and her lips trembling.

"Is there anything you wanna tell me and daddy, baby?" Sam tried again, making brief eye contact with a worried Bucky preparing a bath.

"Wanna shower by myself," she muttered when her sobs died out, tears still leaving her red eyes.

"You know we can't let you do that, doll," Bucky sighed.

"B-But I dressed by myself," she cried more, leaning on Sam's chest.

"This is different, baby." He kissed her forehead.

"Why don't you want our help, doll? What is it?"

She was quiet again, making both men sigh.

"Alright, love, hands up," Bucky instructed but she shook her head.

"Come on now, be good. We gotta get you cleaned up, baby, or you're gonna be all sticky," Sam told her, fingers tugging at the hem of her sweater.

She gave up fighting; her back was sore and she knew her daddies were going to get her in that bath no matter what. She closed her eyes when the sweater was pulled over her head, preparing herself for Daddy's reaction.

"My goodness, doll! What happened?!" Bucky exclaimed in worry and she started sobbing again.

"What is it?"

"Look at her back, it's messed up!" Bucky gestured to the huge purple and blue bruise, whispering the last part of his sentence.

"Oh my god! How did you get this?!" Sam's eyes widened as he questioned her and she only cried more.

It broke their heart. She was in so much pain all morning and they had no idea. How could they be so inattentive?

"Hey, baby, no, it's alright. We just wanna know how you got hurt, sugar. You're not in trouble," Sam reassured, pushing her hair out of her face while Bucky ever so tenderly examined her bruises.

"I'm sorry, papa. I'm so sorry," she cried in his chest, "I- I didn' listen when you- told me to stay I- the orange fell out an- and I wanted to get it and I fell d-down an' hurt m-myself." She tried to explain between hiccups as Sam bit down in realization and regret.

"Aw, sugar," Sam sighed, feeling guilt gnaw at him for leaving her alone by the car. What was he thinking? How could he leave her all by herself like that? She was just a little baby!

"Papa's sorry, baby. Papa's so sorry he left you standing alone and went back inside." Sam apologized, kissing away the tears soaking her cheeks while she sniffled and hiccuped.

"Don't cry, doll. We're not sad with you. You didn't do anything wrong," Bucky cooed, his thumb wiping the tears down her chin and neck.

"B-But I was bad." She looked at Bucky with teary eyes.

"No, doll, you weren't bad. You were just tryna help Papa because you're a good girl." Bucky kissed her temple, holding her forehead to his cheek while he looked at Sam.

The man was zoned out, probably beating himself up somewhere in his mind.

"Let's just get you in the tub for now and then we can let the doctor take a look at your back, okay?"

"What if he gives me shots?"

"He's not gonna give you shots, doll. Only something to apply to your bruise, nothing painful or scary." Bucky promised, easing her off Sam's lap to get the rest of her clothes off.

Sam scratched his head before abruptly standing from the toilet seat, "I'll go start dinner."

Bucky sighed when his husband left the bathroom. He knew Sam was feeling guilty for their baby getting hurt and while he wanted to assure him it wasn't his fault, he had to tend to her for the time being.

"There you go, doll." Bucky carefully lowered her in the tub, letting the warm, soaped water soothe the ache in her muscles.

"Dada, can you come too?" She asked quietly, noiseless tears still leaving her eyes.

Bucky stripped himself at once, cautiously getting behind her in the tub before pressing her back to his chest. She sighed as he held her to him, Bucky's chest being much comfier than the solid ceramic of the tub.

"Is papa mad at me?" She asked Bucky, her voice trembling and breaking as she continued to cry.

"No, no, doll. Papa's not mad at you one bit, he's just worried about you," Bucky said, his hands rubbing softly on her tummy as he kissed her shoulder.

"Then why'd he leave?" Her voice was squishing Bucky's heart and he just wanted both his babies to feel better.

"He's preparing dinner for you, baby. Papa loves you; he could never be mad at you." Bucky turned her head so she could face him and wiped her tears away.

"We love you, doll. No one is mad at you. Daddy and Papa only want you to be okay. We just wanna keep you safe," Bucky told her warmly and she nodded, wrapping her arms around Bucky's neck and burrowing her face in the crook of it.

~

After her bath, Bucky got out first, telling her to wait while he got towels. But instead his legs took him to Sam.

"I feel like shit for not noticing too," Bucky muttered behind his spouse.

"It's not only that- what are you doing strolling around the house in just a towel after a warm bath?! Bucky, you'll catch a cold-" Sam scolded when he turned around and saw Bucky undressed.

Bucky put his mouth on Sam's in an attempt to calm his anxiety.

"I'm gonna be fine and so is she," Bucky promised against Sam's lips, cupping his cheek.

"I left her alone, Buck. She got hurt because of me."

"No, love, no. It was an accident. It could've happened anywhere any time."

"I still shouldn't have left her."

"Then we know not to do it again. Don't beat yourself up over it and distance yourself like that."

"I'm not distancing myself."

"Sam, she thinks you're sad with her. Please, love," Bucky begged, his thumb swiping over Sam's skin until the latter nodded with a sigh.

"Now go put on something."

"I thought you liked me naked," Bucky teased.

"Go." Sam lightly slapped his rear.

"I'm going." Bucky laughed, kissing Sam's lips one last time before retreating to the bathroom.

~

Bucky dressed her in something warm and told her to wait a minute while he got ready so he could take her to the doctor's. She peaked out of her room, hearing onions sizzling in the kitchen. She walked over to Sam as he poured tomato juice and the pot hissed.

"Papa? Are you mad?" She tugged at Sam's sleeve, red-rimmed eyes staring up at the man.

Sam sighed, turning off the stove. He took her hand in his and walked out of the kitchen with her, sitting down on the couch and motioning for her to sit on his lap.

"Why didn't you say anything, sugar?" Sam asked, putting her hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry, papa," shs teared up, "I thought you'd be mad at me and think I'm bad and not wanna take me sledding no more."

"Baby, I'd never get mad at you for getting hurt. Ever." Sam reassured her, not letting his eyes get glossy with the tears he held in.

"If you get hurt me and papa will take care of you no matter what, doll. That's the only consequence. Do you understand me, love?" Bucky added, walking out of the bedroom with a jacket in hand.

"Yes, daddy." She nodded, throwing herself in Bucky's arms, "I'm sorry. I love you."

"We love you too, doll." Bucky kissed her head, careful not to hug or squeeze her too tight.

"Papa, will you come to the doctor wimme and daddy?" She asked Sam sweetly, leaning on his chest after leaving Bucky's hold.

"Of course, sugar." Sam's thumb stroked her cheek softly.

"And we can still go sledding in the park tomorrow?"

"Oh no, baby, we can't go tomorrow."

"But you said you weren't mad." Her lip jutted out in a pout.

"I'm not mad, baby, I promise, but you're hurt."

"But the doctor is gonna fix it," she whined

"He's a doctor, sugar, not a wizard!" Sam chuckled

"Because wizards don't exist."

"They do exist, but that's not the point," Sam argued and Bucky playfully rolled his eyes behind her back.

"But papa-"

"No buts, doll. We'll go as soon as you get better and we'll stay as long as you want, yeah?"

"Yes, daddy." She complied, knowing they were right; her back was achy and stinging.

~

As promised the doctor gave her no needles, only a prescription of a cream for her back and a painkiller.

"Daddy, I don't wanna," she whimpered as Bucky lifted her PJs up. She was afraid of the pain she would feel once Bucky started massaging the substance onto her skin.

"I'm gonna be gentle, doll. I promise."

"It's gonna hurt," she complained more.

"Here, sugar, hold papa's hands and daddy will be done before you know it." Sam opened his palms and she immediately put her smaller hands on top.

"There you go, all set. We're ready, daddy," Sam told Bucky, squeezing her hands and smiling comfortingly at her.

She gave half a smile back, blushing as she felt Bucky ever so softly lay kisses down her hurt back.

Sam chuckled, kissing the back of her hand. She slightly hissed when Bucky touched her skin with the cold cream, his pointer and middle spreading it around on the bruises.

"Anywhere else hurts, love?"

"Right here, daddy." She pointed to the back of her neck.

Before Bucky could, Sam tilted himself forward and kissed from the ends of her hair down to where her neck met her back. She giggled, Sam's lips tickling her. The man chuckled again, pecking her cheek.

"Papa?" She held his hands in hers.

"Yes, baby?"

"I love you." She wasn't unaware of how he blamed himself for her little accident and she wanted to let him know it was alright; she was alright.

"I love you more, sugar." Sam smiled, relieved, pressing his lips to her forehead.

"Starting to feel seriously left out over here," Bucky said, wiping his fingers on a tissue.

Sam rolled his eyes at his needy-for-attention husband before cupping his cheek and kissing his forehead as well, sending blood to his cheeks.

"I love you, daddy," she whispered, squeezing Bucky's right hand.

"I love you more, doll." Bucky echoed his partner, kissing her hand.

For the whole week, Papa and Daddy let her sleep on top of their chests, seeing as cuddling and spooning weren't options and they still wanted to be close. She'd alternate between the men as the nights passed.

Eventually, they did go sledding in the park when she healed, three days in a row. She loved it and she laughed so much till her cheeks hurt. She could handle a little fall after all; she could handle anything as long as Sam and Bucky were there to take care of her through it.

[darthmaulification]

Hey, I want to make a request

In your Maul’s nsfw alphabet you said that he is afraid of hurting reader during sex, right? So, could you please write smth were this happens? Thank you!!

A/N: ..... anon..... the absolute Way you have me experiencing a cataclysm with this... i am imploding... 

thank you very much for requesting this, it was also a very good and welcome challenge for me to write. 😊👍 

hope you enjoy!! 💗

content: a lil bit o’ smut!, some angst??, but also lots of comfort and fluff!!, kinda sorta implied afab!reader??, maul commits a big oopsie on accident, crying during sex, blood and injury, maul gets angry at himself, but also soft!maul 🥺, lots of kissing, happy ending of course 🥰

word count: 2,334

Maul’s vigorous thrusting is complimented deliciously by the sloppy, desperate kisses he leaves all over the skin his mouth can reach. His crimson hands grip your wrists in a vice above your head, keeping them trapped against the bed. You moan into the sheets, arching up against him, hips tilting, silently begging him to go faster, harder, please, Maul...

“Harder, sweet girl?” Maul growls teasingly from above you, answering the plea you hadn’t realized you vocalized. He obeys, and you cry out his name when his hips clash into yours, drilling his cock into you, almost causing your knees to give from the force. The obscene yet beautiful sound of skin smacking together floats into your ears, mingling with Maul’s grunts and your persistent moaning.

Maul presses against you, the fiery skin of his bare chest flush against the arch of your back. The snapping of his hips make you rock in rhythmic tandem, and with each one you feel your peak nearing. Maul groans into the dip of your shoulder blades, his breath hot on the nape of your neck, where he licks across your flushed, dewy skin and leaves wet trails.

“Say my name again, my love.” He leaves a flat-tongued lick up your neck, nibbling at your ear. One of his hands drop from your wrists and travels down your side, rough fingers igniting sparks inside you. Maul kneads your waist, your belly, before clutching your hip. The brace allows him to further pound himself into you, and you see stars.

“Maul, Maul!” You scream his name, all high-pitched and airy, the pleasure toe-curling and promising of a powerful, sweet release. Maul exhales a rather handsome laugh into your ear, golden eyes glazed over with lust and something else wild. Eyes fluttering shut, you feel him suck a love bite into the nook where your neck and shoulder meet, arching your head back and against his shoulder.

Like a prayer, his name tumbles from your lips over and over again, the lamentation pleading and desperate. Your core throbs and clenches around your lover, a telltale sign of orgasm on the horizon. Everything seems to slow down... 

But then Maul bites. Hard. Your eyes snap open.

The sinking of sharp teeth into the flesh of your shoulder is so poignant, it pierces through the thick, lustful haze and roughly pulls you back to reality. You shriek, one most certainly not out of pleasure, but actual pain. It causes Maul to abruptly pull out and back, releasing your wrists in the process. At the same time you feel the emptiness of him leaving, a white-hot fire erupts from where Maul had definitely broken the skin and you writhe.

“Ow.” The whimper escapes in one word, voice thick, as tears immediately glaze over your eyes. Blinking furiously to keep them at bay, you squirm lethargically into an upright position, sitting on your knees.

“I’m...” From behind you Maul starts to say something, but his voice cuts out when you look down over your shoulder and reach a trembling hand up to the bite. When you actually see the wound, that’s when the tears start rolling down your cheeks. It’s... bad. 

The bite is a perfect oval of teeth indents and grooves, most of them deep and bleeding, the skin around them a harsh red and raised. The skin around it is an ugly mix of crimson, dark purple bruising, and pink with irritation. The entire area is swollen and pulsing with ache. Bottom lip wobbling, you trace a hesitant finger along the edge of the bite and the touch stings. You pull your hand back with a shaky gasp.

“My love, I...” Maul starts speaking again but stops and swallows. You can’t bring yourself to look at him, and you’re not exactly sure why. The tears are falling profusely now, and you shudder back heavier sobs. The room goes dreadfully silent, save for your small, quiet cries. You can feel Maul’s stare on you, more specifically on the injury he caused.

“I hurt you. I hurt you.” He repeats to himself, the tone of his voice inscrutable. He suddenly clambers up and off of the bed, the mattress shaking gently, and you listen as his footsteps disappear out of the room. The room is left thick with pain and sorrow, and also a stewing shame that was left hovering after Maul spoke. You look back at the bite after another round of tears pours from your eyes. Oh, Maul...

Footfalls sound again, and Maul reenters the room as your examining the darkening wound, particularly the trails of blood that have by now reached your waist. His heart clenches with a terrible ache, and guilt and anger bubble to the surface, stiffening him. He hurt you, he did. Maul almost doesn’t want to approach, almost thinks he shouldn’t, but you need the bacta.

You don’t look at Maul’s face when he sits next to you, though not as close he usually would, because you’re unsure if you want to see the expression that must be on it. Instead, you focus on his hands, at the wet rag, bacta, and bandages he’s holding. You also notice how his hands are quivering.

“Can I clean it?” Maul asks in an uncharacteristically quiet tone, though he’s very obviously seething with barely capped rage. That somewhat familiar self-loathing Maul gets from time to time radiates off of him, as does guilt. You sniffle, and bob your head yes. The pain is less sharp now, but the wound still needs to be dressed.

Maul says nothing as he wipes away the almost dried blood trails, or as he very tenderly dabs at the puffy wound, or when he pauses at his teeth marks that are purpling now, or even when he smears the bacta over them. The whole time, he works mechanically and in deafening silence. By the time Maul has placed a bandage over the bite, the cooling of the bacta has numbed your shoulder to a soft, dull ache and the hurt is all but gone.

“Maul...” You start softly after you feel his hands leave you, gaze climbing up his arms to his face. The shame-ridden expression on his face makes your heart sink, how his downcast golden eyes are aflame with guilt and swirling with fury. He doesn’t look at you as you turn fully to face him, and recoils when you place a hand on his cheek. His body, ever warm, is stiff beneath your touch.

“It’s okay.” You murmur and Maul’s gaze snaps up to meet yours, the anger flaring. His square jaw tenses and he shakes off your hand.

“No, it’s not. I hurt you.” And while you see and hear that familiar wrath and that unfamiliar guilt in his expression and voice, it never occurred to you before that Maul was also afraid. It makes you misty-eyed. You shake your head, shuffling closer to him.

“No, no, no— Maul, it was an accident.” You plead, placing your hands on either side of his face, rubbing circles with your thumbs. Usually, that simple touch calms him down, but this time Maul grabs your wrists and pulls his face from your grasp.

“I hurt you.” He says again, voice a hiss as he stares at you with conflicted, pained eyes, “I fucking made you cry.”

Maul suddenly leaps up from the bed, pacing across the room to roughly grab his pants off the floor. He pulls them on swiftly, and your brows furrow when he crosses the room to grab his belt and lightsaber.

“What are you doing?” You ask as he ties his belt across his waist, clipping his saber to it. He doesn’t look at you, and turns to the door.

“I’m leaving.”

“No, you are not.” You clamber up off the bed and onto your feet, stumbling slightly as you hastily make your way over to Maul. You’re able to get in front of him, planting your hands firmly on his chest and halting him. He glares down at you, angrily, sadly, and you ground yourself at look up at him.

“Move.” He growls, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Your lips turn down in a stubborn pout. Maul’s bristling under your touch, and you know you’re walking on precarious ground. But you’ve dealt with Maul’s temper enough to not have it faze you, and you’re sure you can handle his guilt the same.

“No.” You retort and you pull yourself flush against him, arms snaking around his torso in a tight hug, your eyes closing. Pressing your cheek against his chest, you sigh at the familiar warmth you love, digging your face into his beautiful crimson and black skin. Maul doesn’t wrap his arms around you in turn. You give his sternum a gentle kiss.

“Get off.” Maul’s growled order comes out as brashly and as firmly as always, but his commandeering attitude hasn’t worked on you for years. A sudden, but small, spark of playfulness curls your lips upwards into a tiny smile. You rub your hands up and down the length of Maul’s back, feeling every tight, defined muscle and occasionally the rough edge of his scar when your hand gets low enough and your pinky fingers brush it.

“Never.” Your murmur vibrates his chest, and you hum contentedly when you finally catch the lovely beatings of Maul’s twin hearts. They thrum in alternating rhythm beneath your ear, both strong and deep.

“You’re not running from me.” You speak again, eyes still closed. Maul is quiet, though you feel him lift an arm and a tender, yet firm, hand comes to rest on the low of your back. You smile fully, lightly gliding your nails over Maul’s back in the way you know he loves. His thumb starts to rub circles on your skin.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“... I was scared.”

“I know.”

You look up at Maul, eyes beneath heavy lids, your smile still bright and kind on your face. The conflict in his eyes has cooled to a simmer, being replaced more and more by that boyish, starry-eyed look he gets sometimes, the one that reminds you of how much he loves you. Maul’s other hand reaches up and cups your cheek, caressing your face. You tilt your head into the touch.

“Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?” He teases in a low murmur, honey gold eyes glimmering with rising mirth, and you quirk an eyebrow. Your hands stop to rest on his waist, just above the band of his pants. Maul’s face starts to inch in closer and closer to yours, stopping right when his lips are just above yours.

“Mm... you might have to do some convincing.” You whisper, eyes drooping further until your irises are nearly obscured by your eyelashes. Maul chuckles low in his throat, his hand shifting to place two fingers under your chin. He tilts your head up slightly, pulls you closer against him.

“How do you suppose I accomplish that?” He asks, breath puffing on your cheeks, gaze breaking from yours when he closes his eyes. You follow suit, and the tips of both your upper lips touch.

“... I can think of one way.” You say, and you tilt your head and your jaw slackens slightly, and Maul’s lips are on yours, balmy and soft. The kiss is slow, slower than he usually does, but it’s perfect and sultry and so Maul. You hum when he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips to gyrate in your mouth. He explores everywhere, relearns every touch. It’s like you’re kissing for the first time all over again, lost in each other as if the years of memorizing each other’s body melted away into oblivion. Your hands clasp his waist, his one hand moves up to your mid back, and the heated, passionate kiss ends.

Maul pulls back a little more to look at you properly, tucking your hair behind your ear, and you open your eyes from the touch. He’s wearing that satisfied, lazy grin, the one that always makes him look mischievous. 

“Do you still need more convincing?” He asks with a tilt of his head, though he knows the answer you’re going to give by the cheeky smile that spreads across your face. You giggles, eyes sparkling, and you nod.

“Lots.” And with that, Maul’s lips are on yours, stifling your laughter in his mouth. He smothers you with kisses, peppering your lips, cheeks, and jaw, and you do the same for him, kissing over and over until you’re sure your lips will fall off. At some point, Maul heaves you into his arms, carries you to the bed, and drops your bodies atop it.

You squeal with laughter when he rolls on top of you, trapping you between his thighs, nuzzling and kissing the side of your face. Your hands fumble at his shoulders, before sliding to his face to turn his head to you. He’s grinning between your hands, looking absolutely charmed, and you kiss him on the nose, breathy from laughing.

When you pull away, Maul’s panting and still grinning like a madman, but his wild eyes have gone somewhat tame, controlled. His eyes dart all around your face, like he’s analyzing each one of your features. He breathes an exhale, licks his lips, and meets your gaze.

“I love you.” And his voice is slightly raspy, but he says it with such conviction, so raw and passionate, that the intensity floors you. Sure, he’s said those words to you before, but you don’t think you’ll ever get used to it. Your eyes go slightly misty again, and you smile sweetly, fingers rubbing the bases of his horns on his temples.

“I love you.” You reply and again, Maul sinks into you with a deep kiss, and you all but melt into each other, bodies a welcoming sanctuary for the other.

[hqshine]

Hey! It’s me again, I hope you’re well! May I request Kenma, Tsukki and Sakusa w/ a s/o who scratches their hand when anxious or having a panic attack. Sometimes when they scratch too hard it starts to bleed. I’m kinda self projecting- but let’s ignore that. 😅 I love you, please stay safe. And if this request stresses you out too much, please don’t do it. Your mental health is what’s important! 😚

— anxious s/o going through a panic attack —

characters: Kenma, Tsukishima, Atsumu

genre: comfort

type: headcanon

warnings: mentions of anxiety and stress, slight self-harming

note: hi guys, i’m back with this fic after about 130 days lmao. i’ve been going through tons and tons of stress and work because of national exams and i came back to this request and i really wanted to write it for the sake of you guys and myself. @haik-hero hi sweetie, thanks for requesting and waiting! i go through similar things so you’re not alone 🤎 there are more requests in my inbox but i won’t be able to complete most of them, i’m deeply sorry for disappointing you guys and especially to the people who requested. Please stay safe everyone ^^

_______________________________________________

this was bad

you could feel how hard your hands were shaking, hear the sounds of your erratic beating and the horrible ache in your chest

stop stop stop stop

you chanted in your mind, desperately seeking some type of method to make it all go away

it was the piles of stress that you accumulated over the past few months, non-stop bickering with your family members, after school activities, homework, friends

you just wanted to stop, go away and never come back

You rubbed your arms up and down, unconsciously using your nails to scratch yourself

the pain, it was nothing but enjoyable

something that would temporarily distract you from all the negative clouds forming in your mind

You hid, curled into a small ball in the corner of your room, eyes filled with tears and hands covering your mouth as you hid your sobs

You were wearing Kenma’s hoodie, his scent enveloping you, giving you a slight sense of comfort and warmth

but it still felt so cold, so lonely, and everything seemed to stand against you

you were scared, afraid, heart filled with panic and you couldn’t see anything else

With blurry vision, you glanced down at the red marks beginning to form on your arm

someone please just—

Warm arms brought you out of your daze

breathing in the familiar scent of him, immediately helped to calm you down

You were too embarrassed to face him, weak you would describe yourself to be

you hid in his chest, letting the tears out as he rubs his hands soothingly up and down your back

“shhh..i’m here, don’t worry, i got you just let it out” kenma mumbled into your hair as he holds you

You must have forgotten the wii date that kenma had scheduled with you

seeing as you didn’t open up the door for kenma when he knocked several times, kenma immediately felt that something was amiss

realising the front door was unlocked, he slipped through, excusing himself while calling out for you

when he found you, curled into a ball, hiding as of you wanted the ground to just swallow you whole, his heart broke

and he immediately felt the urge to wrap his arms around you and protect you from whatever that was causing you to feel anxious

after an hour passed by, you sniffled, lifting your face from his warm chest and gently rubbed your eyes with your arm

you felt the sting as tears came into contact with your scratched up skin

Kenma placed a hand on your cheek, the other intertwining your hand with his

you nuzzled into his warmth, finally looking up at his eyes

you were nervous, he probably thinks you’re a burden now doesn’t he?

but as you stared into his eyes, eyes filled with worry, concern and love. You melt right into them

it brought more tears to your eyes and he gently pushed your face into the crook of his neck while you sat on his lap

“you’re not alone y/n, i’m here” he whispers, kissing the side of your face

he notices the scratches on your arm, but he doesn’t murmur a word, instead he brings your arm to his lips and softly kiss the red marks

when it starts to bleed, he’ll take care of it to the best of his abilities

just tries his hardest to take care of you

“i love you” it comes out sincerely, and he hugs you and eventually brings you to the bed to cuddle for the rest of the day

leaving his game console forgotten on the floor

you didn’t realise your shaky fingers were already pressing the numbers that you knew all too well

and you didn’t really know what to say when he picked up, voice deep and raspy like he had just woken up. Which was probably true. “babe? hello?”

well you expected it given that the time was two in the morning

you didn’t know how it escalated

you were surrounded with piles of homework, projects, essays

it was suffocating and too much

just too much

the stress was eating you alive and you couldn’t even hear yourself think

your breathing became more erratic as you struggled to catch your breath

it frustrated you even more when you couldn’t just couldn’t get a breath of air

your whole body was trembling, and you didn’t know what to do

on instinct, you found yourself dialing the person you had closest to your heart

“t-tsumu? i’m s-so sorry—i just..i d-don’t what to do—please” you managed to choke out as more tears welled up in your eyes

your heart was racing painfully and you could only listen to atsumu as he rushes for his hoodie and shoes, “y/n sweetheart, don’t worry, i’m coming, i won’t hang up and i’ll be there in five okay?” he rushes out

the only response you could give him was the sounds of strangled cries

you stay on call, listening to his pants and curses, his voice giving you some sort of comfort

you waited outside, squatting down on the pavement and looking out for your boyfriend

your nails start to scratch your arms nervously and you focus on the stinging feeling of pain

“y/n” atsumu rushes to you, his phone slipping out of his grip as he wraps his arms around you

the way you looked so scared and vulnerable, eyes red from crying and chest heaving up and down with abnormal speed made his heart twinge with sadness

he wanted to make it all go away, wanted to see your beautiful smile

he wraps his arms around your waist, gently rocking you from side to side as he listen to you cry

when your breathing still hasn’t recovered properly, he takes both of your hands

“baby, i need you to breathe with me okay?”

you nodded shakily and follow his breathing, taking deep and slow breaths, eventually calming down

atsumu presses his lips to the crown of your forehead, just rocking you till you eventually stopped crying

you raise your head to look up at him, his eyes were filled with worry and adoration

atsumu kisses your forehead, nose, cheeks, eyelids and eventually your lips making you smile

“my favourite thing in this damn world” he mumbles smiling with you

he then bends down and grab your thighs, carrying you like a child as you hid in the crook of his neck

“time to get my baby some sleep, if you wanna talk about it, we’ll do it tomorrow” he says bringing you to your room

when he notices your red marks, he’ll tsk lightly at you but clean you up and then press more kisses to your arm

“Y/n i want you to follow my breathing okay? we can do it” tsukishima says in a surprisingly affectionate tone

your eyes were clouded with tears and your hands were nervously scratching your arms when tsukishima found you in your room

the two of you were supposed to study together but with all the stress from upcoming examinations, you felt yourself spiral into a world of nervousness and anxiety

your hands were shaking but tsukishima knew what to do, as he takes both hands into his and focus on you stabilising your breathing

when he notices that your breathing is now back to normal but your hands were still shaking, he gently slides you into his lap, cuddling you like a baby

“y/n? could you do me a favour and name me some things or colours you see in the room?” he says as he wraps his arms around you

this was how he eventually got you to calm down from all the negative feelings you were facing

you eyes were growing more heavy as you felt a wave of tiredness overtake you

hours spent on studying instead of getting a good night’s rest eventually caught up to you as you felt yourself dozing off in tsukishima’s arms

he shakes his head, “silly girl, don’t make me worry so much” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the side of your head

he lets you rest in his lap, as he gets his stuff out form his back and begin to revise with you in his arms

when you awoke, you’d realise he had left some study notes for you

[harry-writings]

We’ll Be Alright

The one where Harry and Y/n have a hard time coping without one another, and Harry finally understands what it means to be a husband

Part 1

Part 2

Masterlist

How to support me <333

-

Y/n knows she’s hit rock bottom when she pours her fifth glass of whiskey at three in the morning, lighting up her seventh cigarette on her bedroom balcony, as if furthering herself away from her right state of mind will somehow bring her closer to all the answers she had been looking for.

She doesn’t even smoke.

The last time she came this close to a cigarette was five months before she found out she was pregnant with Topher. It was the third time Harry didn’t show up to marriage counseling, and Y/n was so upset and so angry and so hurt that she couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop crying until it was in her hands.

This time, though, the shaking and the crying don’t stop.

She’s sitting on one of the balcony chairs, her elbows propped up on her knees, one hand resting at the roots of her hair and the other holding her glass in her palm and her cigarette between her fingers. Her leg is bouncing and her eyes are wet, zoning herself out from the rest of the world, trying to get as far away from herself as possible.

She hasn’t seen Harry in thirteen days.

Not only has she not seen Harry, but she also hasn’t talked to Harry or had any ties left to Harry for nearly two weeks now and Y/n can barely hold herself together anymore. She’s surprised she’s even gotten this far without him.

They aren’t divorced — the papers were left on the courtroom table practically untouched, and though she hates to admit it to herself, Y/n was the first to leave them behind — but they might as well have been.

He wasn’t even the one to pick up Topher today. And she didn’t realize how much she’d miss their traditions — even the ones they’ve made while being separated — until she saw Mitch standing at the other side of her door and watched as he buckled her son into the same carseat Harry once had in his car.

It was at that moment that she knew that even though they weren’t divorced, they really were over, and it was enough to push her over the edge.

Now she’s so drunk she can barely remember where she is. The skyline and the buildings look familiar, but everything is so out of touch she can’t find the same peace and comfort in it as she once used to.

Everything has faded to nothing.

And whether it’s from the alcohol, or the revisitation of bad habits, or if it’s from grieving the loss of somebody still alive, but everything to her feels numb. All that’s left is pain and sadness and the fear of living the rest of her life exactly like this — lost, hopeless, and alone.

She thinks back to the day she slept with Harry — as she does, she throws the last bit of whiskey down her throat and swallows it down without a flinch — and how that day was forever going to be the last day she had ever held him, had ever kissed him, had ever told him that she loved him.  

If she had known — really, really known — it was going to be her last chance to do any of those things, she wouldn’t have pushed him away. She would have done all the things Harry wanted — would have spent the rest of their day in bed, drinking wine, celebrating all that once was and what always could be.

Because that’s what she wanted, too. That’s what she’s wanted since the beginning of this mess they’ve made of themselves, she just didn’t ever want to admit it.

This feeling that burns in her stomach at the thought of not being with Harry makes her want to scream. She can’t escape it, even as the alcohol seeps into her bloodstream and takes away every other feeling in her body.

She sobs, her chin tucking into her chest and her palms pressing to her forehead, agonizing and inhumane cries falling past her lips.

Her Harry is no longer hers.

She squeezes her eyes shut, a puddle of tears falling down her cheeks as she does so, her hand dropping the whiskey glass, her cigarette left sparked on the balcony floor as her fingers twist and pull at her hair. She hunches over her knees, trying so desperately to put herself back together again.

But it’s impossible. She knows it’s impossible because it’s him that makes her whole — him that holds her and keeps her together, even when everything else around her is falling apart.

She’d do anything to feel his arms around her now.

And it’s all she can think about — how lonely and cold and frigid it feels without the feel of his touch, and how loud the silence is without the sound of his voice in her ear, telling her how in love with her he is, giggling at her blush.

And she’s had so much to drink she can trick her mind into believing that he’s here, if she thinks about it hard enough. She mistakes the wind for the feel of him walking past her, smells his cologne in the liquor, but it’s still too quiet for her to really, truly believe it.

And she just wants to believe it. For once, she wants to pretend that he’s here with her, loving her, wanting her the way he always used to. Even if it’s the wrong thing to do.

Her hand shakingly reaches for her phone.

“‘Ello, this is Harry! I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to your call, but I promise to return to you whenever I’m next available. Thank you, talk soon! Bye.”

And oh, how good it feels to hear his voice again.

It brings her back to all the times she’d call Harry while he was away on tour and how every phone call lasted at least two hours. Whether it was to check up on him, or to wish him goodnight, or to have phone sex, he never failed to make every second they were spending apart feel so worth it.

She calls him six more times just to hear his voicemail.

By the seventh and last phone call, Y/n is so low she’s tempted to just finish it off — down the pack of cigarettes and the bottle of whiskey that have kept her more company than her husband. Maybe filling her void with vices will be enough to last her until the blackout, where she will finally be free.

But what will she have left if she does?

The loneliness and the sadness and the hopelessness will all still be there. She will still wake up to a cold bed, in an empty home, with nobody to share her life with. She will still have this sick and twisted feeling that happiness doesn’t exist outside of her Harry — that happiness doesn’t exist within these walls, miles away from him, with only herself to hold.

She can’t keep waking up without him anymore. She can hardly keep living.

So, she does the first and only thing that comes to her mind.

She calls Mitch.

The clock nearly at four in the morning doesn’t seem to strike her as her drunken fingers struggle to tap on his contact name, knowing that this is the only way.

“Mitch.” Y/n hiccups when he answers her call, watching as everything around her starts to spin out of her control, instinctively reaching her hand beside her to hold onto Harry’s — the way she always did whenever she got too drunk. Her heart hurts even worse than before when she’s met with nothing but the ache of what once was. “Come get me, please.”

Something in the air shifts around Mitch.

He has known Y/n for years now, yet he can barely recognize that it’s her voice on the phone. He has to look down at the name on his phone twice before pressing the speaker to his ear, his heart nearly still as he wonders the reason behind such a disturbing and unexpected request.

“Y/n… is everything alright?” He asks tentatively, carefully, because she’s never awake this late at night and has never sounded so hurt. “What’s happened, love?”

She wipes her nose with the back of her hand, sniffling, almost angrily.

“My husband’s been ignoring me for the past two weeks and I’m not —” She stops, sucking in a broken breath, not even believing the words she just spoke because she never believed he’d leave her all alone for so long. “I’m not taking it so well, obviously.”

Mitch sighs.

He should have known, from the second he saw the look on her face earlier that evening, that her night was going to end like this. The love she and Harry share is a kind he’s never seen before — something so far from ordinary, something he couldn’t even understand despite the love for his own girlfriend, who lays beside him so peacefully now.

Their love is more than love. It’s deeper, more soulful, as if they have found each other in every past life and every after life. They truly are, in the most unexplainable of ways, made for one another eternally. Forever, they are theirs.

It’s both a blessing and a curse — their preexisting connection— because they are everything together, but absolutely nothing apart.

“Y/n, love... he’s not ignoring you. He wouldn’t dream of it.”

Oh, how she wishes it was true.

“He didn’t even want to see me tonight. He sees me two days out of the week and he didn’t even want that. There was a time he’d do anything just to look at me for even a second.”

He wishes he knew what to say.

It’s not that Harry doesn’t want to see her — all he does is cry and whine and sulk about how he hasn’t — he just believes leaving Y/n alone is truly what’s best for her right now.

She has barely had any time away from him. Surely, she did have the weekdays to herself and Topher, but she still had to see him every weekend — still had to face him at her doorway; still had to be around him, even on her worst days; still had to be reminded of everything that had gone wrong.

Being around him confuses her. He knows that now, and so does Mitch. But Mitch always knew. Y/n has always been too in deep with Harry. One proper look at him would be enough to send her to her knees.

He’s her greatest weakness.

She needs to be alone.

Or, so he once thought.

“Have you been drinking?”

Y/n laughs in an almost sarcastic way, the side of her wrist pulling at the corner of her eye as she wipes away at her tears.

“Drinking, frying my brain with nicotine, crying my fucking eyes out.” Her lips tremble as she stuffles away a cry. “All of the above.”

Mitch frowns.

This behavior isn’t unusual for her — it hasn’t been since her marriage with Harry started to turmoil — but it never gets easier to witness.

It’s when she’s in the depths of her own hell that she depends on the intoxication to get her by, as if it numbed her from all the pain she’d be living with without it. And as hard as it is for him to admit it, she only ever feels this way whenever it comes to Harry.

This side of her never existed until she met him.

“You want to see him, don’t you?”

To see him. To touch him. To talk to him. To hold him. She wants it all, everywhere, for the rest of the night — for the rest of her life if he were to let her.

But she can’t get ahead of herself. She won’t be able to survive it if she does.

“Even if it’s just for a second.”

His heart falls.

“Will it get you to put down the drugs and alcohol?”

Her eyes linger at the nearly empty bottle of whiskey, and though it still calls for her just as strongly, she knows it’s not what she truly wants.

“Yeah.”

She can hear him smile softly through the phone.

“Then hang tight, love. I’m on my way.”

-

Harry hasn’t been able to sleep all night.

And if he wanted to get technical, he supposes he hasn’t been able to sleep since he and Y/n nearly signed their marriage away, but tonight is far, far worse than anything else he’s ever felt.

His body senses his good days. The sun somehow brighter, the rain lighter, the clouds thinner — he sees it all so differently on the days he goes to see Y/n. He’s used to the routine, he looks forward to it all week, even if it is just to see her for a couple minutes at her doorway.

So to say his body feels the loss of her is an understatement.

He caught himself reaching his hand over to her side of the bed one too many times, only to shiver and whine when met with the emptiness of it. His fingers would squeeze at her pillowcase, hugging it closer to him, fantasizing about her smell and her feel as he tried to drift into his dreamland — that only, of course, consisted of her.

But it was helpless.

He moves to the living room couch, where he finds himself flipping through the photo album of their wedding day — the same one he claimed he had thrown out when Y/n asked if she could keep it, moments before she was about to move out after he had brought the divorce papers home.

Of course he hadn’t thrown it out, but he could never tell Y/n about the lies he only told to make himself feel better about his decision.

He was angry and he was hurt, both of which consumed him in the scariest and most dangerous of ways, leading him to sink his teeth in a lie and spitting it in her face just to make her feel all those things, too. Though he’s sure she already did.

But as he flips through the pages now, reliving that day torturously in his head, remembering how beautiful she looked and how in love he was, he can’t help but feel like these moments weren’t his to take.

He had kept their home — had kept the furniture they bought together when they first moved in, kept all the movies and cd’s they’d play together each night, kept all the pictures she had chosen for the walls and tables he hadn’t had a clue on how to decorate.

He stayed so perfectly in their past while she was forced to move on, away from him, when she wasn’t even the one who wanted to leave.

He had truly taken everything from her — her love, her trust, her marriage, her home — and he didn’t even have the decency to give her the one and only thing she had asked for before she left.

That day was hers, it always has been and it always will be. She never once gave up on it the way he once had, always holding it so close to her, always cherishing its moments.

This simply doesn’t belong to him.

He presses his forehead down to a picture of Y/n wildly smiling at the camera, her hair styled up, makeup slightly smudged, as if holding her to him. And he rubs his thumb along the laminate, right against her cheek, in the same way she always liked.

“I’m so sorry.” He sobs out before he can try to reason that it’s not her, that she can’t hear him, that she can’t feel the way he’s holding and touching her right now, that he looks like a lovesick idiot for thinking this is anything close to the real thing.

None of that matters to him right now, though, as he holds the picture to him and realizes this is the closest he has been to her in so long. And she needs to know.

She just needs to know.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

-

Harry must have cried himself to sleep because the next thing he knows, his front door slams open against the foyer wall, julting him off of the photo album and leaving him with dry and confused eyes.

Without much of a second thought, he throws the photo album off his lap and stands frantically from the couch, his head twisting around in an attempt to follow the footsteps scurrying towards the living room.

He knows it’s her just from that sound alone.

“Y/n?” He calls out in question, still delusional from his sleeping state, wondering if he had even woken up at all.

But it’s when he sees her stumbling toward him with soaken and beaten eyes that he knows this isn’t just a dream — that she really is here, back in their home, with him at last. And he would be happy, would be so goddamn happy to have her in front of him again, if she didn’t look so broken.

He can’t stand the sight of her like this.

“Y/n?” He asks again, devastated.

But she doesn’t answer him. Rather, she does the one and only thing her mind can make sense of now that he’s in front of her again.

Her trembling hands cradle the back of his neck before pulling her to him, their lips meeting for a sloppy, drunken, frenzied kiss — one that nearly has Harry falling to his knees before her.

She pushes him onto the couch, barely giving him any time to compose himself before she sits herself down on his lap and kisses him again, hard — harder than before and harder than she ever has, she thinks.

Teeth clattering, tongues battling, mouths opening, lips smothering. It’s desperate and messy and sloppy, but she doesn’t want it any other way.

She knows this feeling. She wants this feeling. It’s what she keeps going back to because it’s safe and warm and familiar. She could be in the middle of nowhere, lost with no direction or any sense of belonging, yet the feel of his lips on hers would somehow make her feel at home, just the way she is.

She moans against him, her hands splayed on the back of his head and neck as if to keep him there — on her, with her.

His hands, however, don’t know where to go. They switch between her arms and her thighs, setting boundaries for himself because he’d give into her in a heartbeat if he were to touch her just right. And he’s already doing so much he shouldn’t, he’d ruin himself if he were to go any further.

So as a subtle way to slow it down, he drags his lips down to her chin before leaving open-mouthed kisses along the shape of her neck — devouring her taste, savoring the sweetness.

He’s missed this. He’s missed her, so much so he can’t even remember the reason he let it all go. Right now, in this moment, nothing seems worth it enough to ever give this up.

He can hardly think straight.

“Y/n, please don’t do this to me…” Harry whines against her collarbone, her touch and smell and feel overwhelming him beyond all forms of comprehension. “This isn’t you. We’ve been here before and —”

“And I want to make it right this time.”

He nearly cries.

He bites down gently on the base of her throat, nibbling at it, a strangled whine falling from his lips as his hands slither to her back, pushing his body up against hers as if to bring her closer. And he growls silently to himself as she starts grinding herself against him.

“Y/n —”

“Stop calling me that!”

“Baby…” He tries again, to which she giggles and smiles as she nibbles on the lobe of his ear. He gets lost in it for a moment — to hear her laugh, to feel her hands rub along his chest and up his neck, to have her so close, like nothing ever happened — but he snaps himself out of it just as quickly as he fell into it. “You’re drunk.”

He tries to reason, to make her see that he does want this, more than anything else in the world, but he can’t. Because if it were to happen again, he wants it to be real. He wants her to mean it, to need it, to be all in it with him the way he’s all in it with her.

He wants her to stay.

“I’m only drunk because I miss you so much.” She confesses breathlessly to him, to which he groans and throws his head back, as if he were in pain. “So give me what I want and nothing else will matter.”

His hands find purchase to her hips, his fingers squeezing at the flesh of them as he tries to steady the movement of her groin against his, desperate to hold himself together. But she makes it so hard when she knows exactly where and how to touch him — when she knows that he can never resist her all over him, begging for more.

His eyes are pinched forward and closed, his head still hanging off the edge of the couch, words seeming to fail him as she moans against his shoulder, sinking her teeth into the flesh of it as she works herself harder against him.

“Fuck, you know I want to.” He croaks out, his hands giving into their urge to wander every dip and curve and inch of her, even the places he shouldn’t. “You know I do.”

Good, she thinks. I want you to want it. I need you to want it. I want you to want it so bad you give it to me all night, all morning, all day. I need you to want me.

She lifts her head up from his shoulder so that she can look at him with a winning smirk, both of her hands fisting at the collar of his t-shirt to steady herself upon his lap, her movements now smooth and effortless, giving him everything he needs to give in.

He lets out a proper moan at this, allowing himself a moment of weakness to feed his undying greed.

His mouth hangs open and practically drools as he touches her in ways he’s been aching to, rubbing himself against her, allowing her lips to wander anywhere and everywhere they craved.

It all feels so good and all so right, he wishes it was enough to make things work, but he knows in his heart that it isn’t.

Not now, at least.

“But I can't — I can’t take advantage of you. I — oh, fuck!” He yelps from below her when her arm sneaks between them so her fingers can scratch at the skin of his upper inner thigh, mercilessly giving him everything that has ever made him feel good.  

And it’s all too much.

One more right touch in the right place and he’s done for, as pathetic and weak as that makes him. But it’s only for her. Only for her does he find himself shuddering and moaning and creeping on the edge for, one push away from falling off, waiting to be caught by her.

After all this time, after all they had been through — all the fighting, all the tears, all the downs and lows they’ve lost themselves in — she still consumes him whole. She still is and forever will be the only person he’ll ever love like this.

There is nothing and nobody else. There is only her.

Which is why he can’t let himself do it. He can’t let her do it.

So right before he reaches the end, his hands frantically grab onto hers and pin them down against each side of his legs, her forehead meeting his shoulder, her body collapsing onto his.

“No!” He bites through clenched teeth and shut eyes, his hands squeezing hers as his body ricochets back to reality, yet still holding her close. “No, no, fuck. No.”

And whatever remained of Y/n’s heart burns to a crisp at that one godforsaken word.

Harry never denies her.

Even at their lowest and darkest moments, her simple touch made him powerless. He succumbed to her even when he told himself he wouldn’t, gave into her touch like a drug he couldn’t get off of no matter how hard he tried, drowned in her love even when he swore he no longer craved it.

It’s the very reason Y/n found herself pregnant in the midst of their downfall. Harry never stopped wanting her.

She should have known that everything was different now, but she never expected it to be like this.

“Oh.” Y/n’s lips tremble, her eyes wide with woe, glossy with burning tears as she looks at him through slow blinks. “I get it, I —”

“Y/n…”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have — I shouldn’t have come. I’m sorry.”

She’s nearly sobbing now, her breaths heavy and frantic as she pushes herself away from him, practically falling off of his lap. And if his head wasn’t so clouded from what had just happened between them, he wouldn’t have let her go.

She’s a mess, a kind he’s never seen in her before and it breaks him in two when he sees her face soaked in tears, her hands trembling as they push her hair back, her eyes looking at everything but him.

He is just so sick of her looking away from him, and so tired of watching her cry.

He never wanted this.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Harry speaks softly, his hand reaching out to grab ahold of hers before she has the chance to walk out on him again. And the shock of his touch is enough to bring her right back to him. “Baby, this is your home more than it is mine. Your son is here, I am here, don’t ever think you have to be sorry for wanting to come home.”

She’s silent for a moment, trying to make sense of his words and what they mean. But it’s so hard to focus on anything other than how good it feels to be holding his hand, and how that’s all it took to get the room to stop spinning around her.

She trusts him.

Whatever he wants out of this and whatever he’s thinking, she trusts. Her body wouldn’t be so reliant on him if she didn’t. And it’s been years since she’s felt this feeling she feels so fiercely now, but she could never mistake it. It was once the most familiar feeling in the world to her.

He rubs at her knuckles, patiently waiting for her to respond. But she doesn’t, her gaze just drunkenly fixated at their intertwined fingers, a hint of longing in her eye.

Even when he’s right here, holding her, convincing her to stay… she still feels as though he isn’t all hers. She wants more of him, as if she hasn’t seen and touched and loved every inch of his body and claimed every last beat of his heart.

She is the only one and yet she feels as though she’ll never be enough for him, after all this time, after all these years spent together. It makes him feel like the worst person in the world.

He lifts her hand up to his lips, as delicate and gentle as possible, just the way she likes.

“And as for kissing me.” He adds, eyes looking up fondly at her as he kisses at her knuckles one by one. “You’re my wife, it’s what I want. I just don’t want us to make the same mistakes we once did.”

He settles her fingers against his mouth for a moment longer before pulling her closer to where he sits, looking insistently in her hopeful eyes.

“If we sleep together… it’ll only drive us more apart, just like it did the last time. And I swear to god —” he hangs his head off the edge of the couch again, his fingers pinching at the bridge of his nose, trying to fathom the idea of it. “If I have to go another day without seeing you, I’m going to fucking lose it. I’m fucking miserable.”

She knows it’s true. Whether she wanted to hear it or not, sleeping together without speaking to one another would only bring them back to the same dark, numbing cycle they’ve been through for far too long now.

But she wants to milk it — wants him to do whatever he can to get her to stay because she needs to know he really wants it, needs to know he really wants her, before it’s too late.

And when Harry lifts his head back up to look at her, his heart nearly explodes from within him.

“Come here.” He tugs softly on her hand, a small smile playing on his lips when he sees Y/n pouting down at him with furrowed brows — the same face she used to make whenever she wanted to be angry with him, but couldn’t. It brings him back to all their happiest times. “Come here!”

He pulls her down to him until she lands on his lap, both of them laughing as she nearly trips over her own two feet.

The moment stills when their eyes meet, however, the giggling dying down and their smiles falling as they captivate each other with just a single look.

His fingers move her hair out of her face, his palm resting on the side of her cheek, his thumb rubbing along the skin of her blush as he admires just how beautiful she’s gotten since the last time he had seen her.

And she does the same to him — her fingers pulling at his hair, dancing along his scalp, humming in admiration as her eyes wander every dip and curve of his face. He is just so perfect, it endlessly mesmerizes her.

“I’ve missed you.” She confesses softly, her gaze trained on his lips, her tongue poking out to lick her own.

“I’ve missed you so much more, my love.”

And they meet for a kiss — a real kiss this time. Not the hungry, desperate, fevered kisses they’ve been sharing since their separation. It’s slow, their lips just settling against each other’s, refusing to move, only leaning in deeper when desired.

It’s how he kissed her on their wedding day.

She remembers how different it was, now, as she feels it again — full of vows and promises, hopes and dreams, a hint of sorrow for all the times he had let her down, and how he’d never wish to do it again.

Quite truthfully, she never wants it to end. She could stay pressed against his lips like this all night and never once get tired of it — would probably beg for more if it ever came down to it. But she doesn’t have to anymore, she knows that now.

They both pull away together, dopey and loopy smiles painted on their faces. And it doesn’t get better than this.

“Can I show you something?” He whispers to her, his thumb pets at her temple, circles and circles. “And know that when I give it to you, it’s me trying to make this right again? No matter how much it hurts?”

His breath falters when her lips press gently against his wrist, humming a small “mhm” against the skin of it.

She always did that whenever she could. Whether he be holding her cheek, or rubbing at her head, or running his fingers through her hair, her lips would seek just the smallest bit more of him. And it always warmed him to feel it. It reminded him that yes, she did in fact love him and want him and need him with the same burning he has for her.

It always felt too good to be true.

And to know that she’s feeling it all over again makes every worry in the world collapse around him, leaving him with nothing but the life he had always desired with her, and the hope that it only gets better from here.

He smiles in endearment, his own lips seeking the sole of her cheek before he turns his body to the fallen photo album, his fingers shaking as he reaches for it.

She gasps before he even has the chance to sit up fully.

“Is that —” she stops before she finishes, her hand flying over her suddenly trembling lips because it is.

He looks at her with eyes full of regret as he holds the photo album out for her to take, but she’s in too much shock. All she can process is that it’s here, still alive in the home they once shared, not shredded and burned and broken like she always thought it was.

And it just doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter that over a year ago, he told her a lie that ripped her apart from the inside out every day since he’d spoken it. It doesn’t matter that all she had left of their wedding were the moments captured in her memory, to which she went back to every night before bed.

It just doesn’t matter because she’s just so happy to see it again — so, so, so fucking happy that she can’t help but sob into her palm, admiring it, somehow at peace with the idea of reuniting with it with her husband right beside her, shedding the same tears as she is.

All she has ever wanted is happening all at once, and she couldn’t ask for more.

“Can we look through it?” She sniffles, her fingers graciously running along the cover of it.

He pulls her in closer, his head nodding, a breathy laugh of euphoria falling from his lips.

As if she even had to ask.

-

It was the next morning that Harry decided he couldn’t do it anymore.

Upon waking up to an empty bed, there wasn’t this overwhelming sense of sadness rippling through him, or loneliness drowning him to his duvets, refusing to set him free. It felt… right, and warm, and safe, and like it had always meant to be this way.

He was weightless as he carried his naked body over to his dresser, where he slipped on a new pair of briefs and one of his plain white t-shirts. He even found himself humming a tune he only ever sang to on good mornings.

And it was when he made his way downstairs that he started to hear his company.

He found Y/n in his day old t-shirt, holding Topher at her hip, flipping pancakes at the stovetop, humming and bouncing to the beat of a song they played during their wedding ceremony.

Her hair was unbrushed, her nail polish chipped, one of her socks pulled too high and the other too low, in her most hungover state. And the world stopped turning then, it seemed. Because it was the most simple and most casual sight to see, yet something he was once so blinded to.

He finally felt at home.

And it was as if nothing else had ever really, truly mattered. His world simply revolved around the two littles ones in his kitchen, getting their hands messy with pancake batter, giggling with every other step they took.

And he knew he couldn’t do it anymore.

Which is exactly how he ended up here — seven hours later, standing on one knee in front of his wife, whose hand fits so perfectly in his.

She sits cross-legged upon the kitchen chair, her plate half empty and on her second glass of her mocktail. And if he had more preparation, he would have taken her out instead of settling for her favorite home cooked meal. But something about doing this here, in the home they once shared together, at their happiest hour, feels much more real to him.

“H? What are you doing?” Y/n asks with wide eyes, looking down at their intertwined hands, squeezing onto his tighter.

“I know we’re already married, but I needed to do this anyway.”

He sucks in a breath as the pad of his thumb passes through her knuckles, slightly flicking her engagement ring in the process.

“When I left earlier, it wasn’t for work. I mean, it was for work but not — but not in the way you may think.”

Y/n tilts her head down at him, her eyebrows furrowed. Her heart races with all the endless possibilities, the pit in her stomach falling with it. And she really does try to not seem worried, but she can’t help but let it crash over her.

She had just gotten her husband back. Finally, she’s his and he’s hers and that’s all she ever wanted. That’s all she ever needed, so how is she expected to say goodbye so soon?

How would she ever survive it?

“I terminated the contract.”

Her heart stops beating.

Her body sits frozen still as Harry bites at his bottom lip, where he hides a smile.

This truly is it — the beginning of their forever, the start to the life they always wanted to share alone, with no distractions, no obligations, no anything besides each other and their child — and he doesn’t want it any other way.

“I’m done with having a career that takes me away from you. And I’m so sick and tired of pretending like this is the life I wanted to have with you. It wasn’t, baby. It isn’t.”

But she just can’t believe what she’s hearing.

The words had translated yet somehow, she can’t make sense of them. She can’t make sense of anything as her mind twists and turns around what they could mean and what it could mean for them as a couple.

“You — you terminated the contract? I don’t — I don’t understand. I —”

"If it were ever to come down to you or my music, I’d choose you in a heartbeat.” The fingers of his free hand twist at her wedding band, hypnotizing her. “I did it all for you — the writing, the touring, the traveling. My future with you was all I ever cared about and yet, I had somehow convinced myself that my music meant more to me, when it never really did.”

Her breaths get deeper and deeper, completely and utterly overwhelmed. And if it weren’t for the tears of happiness leaking from her eyes, Harry wouldn’t know what she’s truly feeling inside.

But he knows. Oh, how he knows.

“I choose you, Y/n. And I choose Topher and I choose our Alaskan home everyday for the rest of our lives. That’s what I choose. That’s what I will always choose.”

It’s those words that make her really start to lose it.

How long she had been waiting for this moment, she can’t even remember anymore. So much time has passed and yet everyday, she dreamed and hoped and prayed and died to hear him say that to her.

She had been waiting for so long, she once believed them to be impossible.

But here he is on one knee again, sacrificing his entire life and heart and soul just to make their marriage right. He wants to leave the music behind rather than leaving her to be all alone. He wants to move away from the life he had built for himself and rather spend the rest of it with her.

He wants her, for the first time in what feels like centuries, he finally wants her.

“But — but you — how? How did you — what did you do?”

“Don’t worry about the how, okay? What matters is that I made it work and I have more than enough to last our family a lifetime. I promise you that.”

One of her hands reaches forward to cup at his cheek, pulling herself closer to him because she needs to feel him, all of him — needs to feel the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart, the warmth of his breath.

She needs it all, all around her, until she drowns in it.

“Don’t care about the money, just — just want to make sure you’re okay.”

His wife is reaching for him, pulling him in, wanting and loving him despite everything he put her through… how could he not be okay?

He’s on top of the world right now.

“Baby, I’m so much more than okay. I have you, don’t I?” She nods her head as she wipes her tears away, sniffling with trembling lips and shaking hands. “Then that’s all I need.”

She sobs against him, her face tucked in his shoulder as he holds her hands between them, kissing at her head.

And sometime in the near future — when Harry and Y/n have found everything they had lost, have grown to be better together than ever spent apart, and have become the best parents they could ever be to their son — he’ll rent out a small venue in the outskirts of town and renew his wedding vows to his wife, whom he plans to never be parted from, even in death.

“So, Y/n, baby love.” They both giggle at the pet name, her head lifting from his shoulder and meeting his eye halfway. “Will you please do the honors of being my lawfully wedded wife, and the mother of our disgustingly perfect child, in our home in Alaska? Forever?”

She nods her head, her thoughts clouded by euphoria, her hand still in her husband’s.

As if he even had to ask.

[nastybuckybarnes]

In a Heartbeat  -  Epilogue

Pairing: Fireman!Bucky X Reader

Summary: You’ve always been careful with your heart. With your condition, you don’t exactly have any other choice. The last time you let someone in, you paid the price. A price you don’t plan on paying again. Until Bucky comes in and shatters your carefully crafted world.

Warnings: Angst, Language, Minor Fluff

Word Count: 1.2K

A/n: Grande finale! Oof plz don’t kill me but it’s so cute I loved writing this series so much and low-key I’m sad it’s over but it was so fun to write. If y’all have any ideas for anything you want me to write in the future, send em my way!

Series Masterlist

~*~

The wind is crisp, biting at the exposed skin of his face, his fingers.

He doesn’t mind too much though.

The sky is gloomy, like it might rain later in the day. The clouds are a deep grey colour and there's sorrow on the wind. He can’t help but feel like it’s fitting.

“I uh, I’m not sure what to say, I guess. Bonnie said it would be good to come swing by for a little while but uh I’m not sure if she was right.” His voice is shaky and he closes his eyes, hating the silence that meets him.

“I got you flowers. Didn’t wanna get roses cause it didn’t feel right, so I got you some carnations. Nat said that they last a while too which is nice. They’re real pretty. A light yellow type. Maybe peach is a better description of the colour but-” he cuts himself off with a laugh, shaking his head.

“Here I am, trying to describe the colour of the flowers to you when I’m sure you’ve got other things you wanna hear about.”

Deep breath in, deep breath out, just like the two of you always practiced.

“She uh, she turns two in a few weeks, but you know that. I don’t know if I can do it though. Not without you.”

A cold drop of water splashes against his cheek and it’s only then that he notices the warm tears falling down his face.

“I miss you, doll. Every day it feels like it gets harder, and Bonnie says that’s normal, but I don’t know. I feel like it should get easier with time.” He huffs a breath and squeezes his eyes shut.

“Doesn’t help that Beccs is the spitting image of her mom, that’s for damn sure. But you knew that from the first moment you laid eyes on her. You were all smug about it too, said you gave her all the good genes.” He chuckles softly and shrugs his shoulders, “you were right about that.”

He stuffs his free hand into his pocket, rocking back on his heels and trying not to break down right then and there.

“She’s beautiful, (Y/n). Absolutely gorgeous. She’s stubborn, just like you. Real talkative too. I asked Steve when to expect this kinda stuff but he says each kid develops at a different speed.” He clenches his jaw tightly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

“I miss you so fucking much. So damn much. I wish... fuck...” He stops, wiping away the tears and leaning his head back to allow the rain to clear his thoughts.

“I wish you were here. This whole ‘parenting’ gig would be a lot easier if you were here to do it with me. I feel like I can never do it right. And Beccs needs her mom. She’s got Nat, but she needs you.” He sniffles and wipes his nose on the back of his hand.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad, doll, I swear. I just... I can't keep it in. I feel like a failure. I need your help.” His bottom lip trembles and he makes the split-second decision not to hide it. No, he opens the floodgates and he lets the tears fall.

“Her uh, her favourite word is still ‘mama’. Got her sayin’ ‘dada’ though. And she absolutely adores Tommy. That’s her partner in crime.” He chuckles once, thinking about how the two interact.

A fresh wave of sorrow washes over him and he drops his head, looking down at the ground and letting out a shaky breath.

“I uh, I still can’t sleep in our bed. Steve says I should try but... I can’t. I need you there and I can’t sleep without you. I stay on the couch most nights. Nat gets worried but I think I’m okay. Yeah... I think I’ll be okay.” He lets out another pained breath then shakes his head and falls to his knees, eyes squeezed shut tightly.

“I miss you. I fucking miss you so much. And some days it just hits me so damn hard that I’ll never see your smile o-or hear you laugh. You won't be there t-to see Becca on her wedding day... you won’t hold your grandchildren... you won’t be there when she graduates and we won’t grow old together. No, you won’t see me all gross and wrinkled and old and you won’t tease me when I can barely lift my own damn body. Fuck, I’d give anything to have you back. I would give absolutely anything to see you again. I miss you so much and it’s so hard to live without you.”

He puts his face in his hands, shoulders shaking with sobs as he finally lets himself break.

And break, he does.

He shatters there on that gloomy Thursday morning, heart out for the gods to see, to pick apart. He bears his goddamn soul and he cries. He sobs and he all but screams out his sorrows.

It’s agony.

Living without you has been the hardest thing he’s ever done.

He’d lose his arm ten times over if it meant he could see you again.

When you died you took a piece of him with you, and he knows he’ll never get it back.

“I love you, Doll. So damn much. To the fucking moon and back.”

He kneels there for a long time, long enough for the rain to come and go, the sun peeking through the clouds and the birds emerging from their hiding spots.

He kneels there until his tears have run dry and his heart has stopped aching, his shoulders lighter even if the bags under his eyes are heavier.

“Daddy!” He glances over his shoulder, a wet smile spreading on his face as Rebecca bounds over to him clumsily.

He opens his arms and she runs straight into them, giggling madly and pushing her hair out of her face.

“Do you wanna give mommy the flowers this time?” He asks, handing her the bouquet of carnations. She nods eagerly, sliding out of his grip and gently placing the flowers down in front of the headstone.

“Love you, mommy,” she says quietly, pressing a kiss to the polished granite.

A gentle hand pats Bucky on the shoulder, and he looks up at the source.

Nat stands over his shoulder, a sad smile on her face.

“You’ve been here for a while. Thought we should come check up on you.” He nods, pushing himself to his feet and taking a deep breath.

“I’m okay now. Therapist said I should really talk to her, not just... lay down the flowers.” Natasha nods, pulling the man into a hug.

“We all miss her, it’s okay.” Bucky huffs out a breath, trying to fight the tears but they fall anyway.

“I want one too!” Rebecca exclaims, tugging on his pant leg. He chuckles and pulls away from Nat to pick up his daughter, holding her tightly to his chest and trying with all his might to keep it together, if only for her.

“C’mon. Let’s go get ice cream. My treat,” Nat says, ruffling Becca’s hair then leading the way to her car.

Bucky follows after, pausing for a moment and glancing over his shoulder, eyes tracing over the writing carved into the stone.

(Y/n) (Y/m/n) Barnes.

Beloved Mother, Daughter, Wife, and Friend.

Always on our minds.

Forever in our hearts.

~*~

Fin

[badassbuchanan]

No Goodbye

Part 2 Part 3

Plot: Bucky’s left to pick up the pieces of a broken heart

Warnings: you will cry, angst, this is very very sad, sweet Bucky

Word Count: 4295

A/N: decided to branch out and do a non-smut angsty fic - it’s my first one please be nice 💕

“Bucky?” Y/N’s voice whispered worriedly as she watched the small team walk back through the compound with their heads hung low. The long haired super soldier looked over at her with saddened eyes, his heart sinking when he saw the hopefully look on her face. 

Y/N’s hearted thudded against her chest, her bottom lip quivering as she watched the team look at her sympathetically. “Bucky, where’s Steve?” Worst case scenarios fled through her mind as she noticed the heartbreak in Bucky’s eyes, she’d never seen her boyfriend’s best friend look so sad.

Bucky’s eyes closed for a moment too long, the raw emotion in her voice breaking his heart. He felt tears begin welling up in his eyes, knowing he had to be the one to break the news. He let out a deep sigh, trying to steady his breathing and keep his sadness at bay as he braved a glance over at Y/N. 

“Steve’s gone, Y/N.” Bucky mumbled, hearing a whimper of pain leave the girl’s lips as she broke down in front of him. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth, loud sobs filling the room as Bucky flinched in weakness, he couldn’t stand to see her like this. “He’s not coming back, Doll.” He was still trying to process the fact himself, saying it out loud only made it that much more real.

“No,” She shook her head in denial, tears streaming down her face as Bucky let his head fall back to conceal his tears. He started walking towards her, only knowing too well how hard it was to lose Steve. “No, Bucky, he promised.” 

“I know,” Bucky blew out shakily as he tugged her almost lifeless body towards him, wrapping his arms around her tightly as she sobbed against his chest. He sighed solemnly when he felt her hands clinging to the material of his t-shirt, her tears soaking through the thin material and onto his chest. “I know, Doll.”

Bucky knew more than anyone how it felt to have a promise broken by Steve. Bucky had just had to say goodbye to his childhood best friend, but Y/N had just lost the love of her life. 

She’d fallen for Steve the first day she met him. He was like a prince in a world full of frogs. She didn’t know if it was a forties thing, or a Steve thing, but he was everything she’d ever dreamed of. Steve loved Y/N just as much, she was his little piece of light in a cruel world. She reminded him of what was important and made him feel like part of him was still normal.

Shhh.” Bucky soothed her quietly, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as he rested his chin against the top of her head. Her head began to spin, trying to process what was happening as she cried helplessly against Bucky’s chest. “It’s gunna be okay.” Bucky breathed out shakily, repeating the words that Steve had said to him before he left, hoping it would somehow calm her down. Although right now, he didn’t even believe those words himself.

———

It had been a few weeks, but the days seemed to all blur into one for Y/N. She didn’t leave her room unless it was to run errands, but even then, she avoided everyone. She felt so out of place, like everywhere she was, it was wrong. It didn’t matter if she was making a cup of tea in the kitchen, reading a book in the living room, taking a shower in the bathroom or trying to have a nap on her bed. It all seemed so wrong, like she shouldn’t be doing anything without Steve.

“I don't know who I am anymore, Buck.” She sighed numbly, her mind spaced out in mourning, her eyes damp with tears just as they had been every day before. Bucky was the only person she’d spoken to, and that was only because she knew he needed someone to talk to. Maybe he liked talking to her because she reminded him of Steve.

Bucky’s heart ached as he watched her face, so straight and emotionless. She was so broken, he heard her crying when no one else was around, especially at night. It was as if she was so tired of being in pain that her face was no longer able to show expression. 

“I think if anyone can relate to not knowing who they are, Y/N. It’s me.” He pursed his lips together in a sympathetic smile, leaning his hands against the edge of the mattress from where he sat on her bed. He watched her carelessly fold the clean washing, trying to harden the pain inside her heart. 

“Yeah and who helped you through that, Buck?” She hissed out sadly, angry at herself for still being so helpless and lost after weeks. She hadn’t said Steve’s name since the day she’d found out he’d gone. Bucky had noticed it, but he wasn’t sure if anyone else had. 

Bucky sighed as he tilted his head absentmindedly, he hated Steve for leaving him, but he hated him more for leaving her. A frown crinkled on her forehead as she concentrated on stopping her tears from escaping her eyes, letting out a quiet sniffle as she kept her eyes focused on the washing in front of her.

“God, I just feel so alone.” She sighed in frustration, throwing the pair of shorts she was folding down on the bed. Her eyes closed as she wrapped her arms around herself, a tear trickling down her cheek as she sniffed again. 

“You’re not alone, Doll.” Bucky whispered sadly, trying to be supportive as his eyes softened and he carefully reached his flesh arm out to hold her hand. 

“But I am, Buck.” She pulled away from his hand as soon as she felt it, the action so sudden it made Bucky jump as she took a step away from him. “You’ve got Sam and Sharon.” She gritted her teeth at the mention of the girl that Steve had once kissed, her hands balling up into fists out of frustration. “Pepper’s got Morgan, Clint has his family, Peter’s got May, Fury’s got Maria, T’Challa’s got Shuri. But who do I got?” Her lips trembled as she pressed them together in a hard pout, looking down at the space in front of her. “He was everything I had and now he’s gone.”

Bucky listened silently to her rant, hanging his head as his heart broke at the shakiness of her angry voice. He fiddled with his hands, he knew nothing he could say would make her feel better. All she wanted was Steve. 

“I don't even know why I’m still here.” She mumbled weakly, looking around the room that had once been filled with happy memories. It hurt, everything hurt. Living at the compound was a constant reminder of the life she had once shared with Steve. Her anger faded back to sadness as she closed her eyes tightly, breaking down in silent sobs as she thought about how they’d planned to spend their future together. They’d talked about it a lot. “When all this is over, we’ll move to Brooklyn. We’ll get married, pop out a couple of babies. Oh, and we have to get a dog.” The memory of Steve’s words caused an aching cry to leave her lips, his voice ringing through her mind as she felt her whole body go weak. “I can’t do this anymore.” 

Bucky’s watery eyes widened in panic at her words, his head immediately turning to her as he instinctively reached his arm out towards her again. She was too helpless to pull away this time, letting his strong hand pull her body into his lap as she collapsed against him. 

He was worried about how she was handing the process of grieving, knowing how much it had the power to manipulate thoughts. He didn’t want her doing anything stupid, anything irrational, anything harmful. He’d become so protective over her, knowing that she was the only other person who really understood what it was like losing Steve. Anytime she cried, Bucky was right there holding her.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky sobbed out, unable to control his emotions as he wrapped his arms around her, holding her as tight as he could. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck as she cried against him, a position she’d come to know so well. “I’m so sorry.” Bucky felt guilty, like he was the one responsible for Steve not coming back. He was there, he should’ve tried harder, said something to make Steve change his mind.

She whimpered against him, erratically breathing against his chest as she felt her throat closing up. The all too familiar feeling of heartache took over as her hand dropped to his metal arm, clinging to him tightly as she relaxed against his chest. 

Bucky rocked them back and forth lightly, trying to soothe her as he broke down. He rubbed her back with his flesh hand, his head dropping close to hers as he held her close. 

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye.” She sniffed sadly, her eyes puffy and cheeks red from the crying. Her face was lightly stained with red lines from where her tears had fallen, the salty liquid stinging her skin.

Bucky let out the breath he’d been holding in shakily, his heart aching at her words. Their burning cheeks touched as Bucky’s hand came up to massage the back of her head. He felt so responsible for Steve not coming back. “I’m sorry.” 

She stayed there in his arms, his chest rising and falling against her side as she closed her stinging eyes. She inhaled the scent of his cologne, feeling safe in his lap as her heartbeat began to steady itself. 

Bucky noticed the way her head pressed limply further against his bearded cheek, turning his head to face her as his hand cradled the back of her neck. “It’s gunna be okay.” He whispered as a soft smile washed over his reddened face, noticing her falling asleep in his arms.

”Will you stay with me tonight?” She whispered tiredly, her eyes blinking rapidly as she fought the inevitable exhaustion. “Please Buck, I don't want to be alone.”

A selfish wave of relief washed over Bucky as he held her, still processing Steve’s absence himself, he thanked his lucky stars that at least for one night, he wouldn’t have to be alone.

———

Weeks of Steve being gone had turned into months, his absence left a void, an emptiness that was inevitably never going away, both for Bucky and Y/N.

“Y/N?” Bucky’s voice deepened with concern as he threw the car keys in the fruit bowl, being warned of her bad state by F.R.I.D.A.Y as soon as he’d walked in through the front door. “Y/N.” He called out again, picking up his pace as he rushed through the compound to find her. 

“She’s in Mr Roger’s room, Sergeant Barnes.” the AI spoke as Bucky began to panic, his heart sinking as he burst through the door of Cap’s old bedroom. No one had gone in there since he’d left, not even Y/N. 

But that’s where she was, lying on the floor, looking up at the blank ceiling. Bucky sighed with his eyes closed before he walked over to her slowly, aware of her almost unconscious state. 

His heart sped up immediately as he was hit with wave upon wave of memories of his best friend. The smell of the room, the shelves covered with small trinkets that were important to him, his record collection, the framed photo of Y/N and Steve next to his neatly made bed. It was all too overwhelming.

“What did you do, Doll?” He breathed out sadly as he crouched down next to her, his flesh fingers tracing over the empty bottle of asgardian liquor that lay in her limp hand. He carefully took the bottle from her, his eyes looking up at hers, glazed over with dilated pupils.

Y/N kept her head facing the ceiling, only moving her eyes to glance over at him. “I got lost.” She mumbled almost inaudibly, catching a hiccup in her throat as her eyes closed. 

How could she tell Bucky the truth when it was so silly. She’d gone in there to talk to him. No, she wasn’t crazy, she knew he wasn’t going to be there. She thought she would find comfort in being around his belongings, that it would make her feel connected to him. But it didn’t work.

Bucky sighed, letting his fingers intertwine with hers as he held her hand. His thumb rubbed over her skin soothingly as he bit the inside of his lip, the helpless feeling inside of him was starting to become permanent. He desperately wanted to help her, to make everything okay. But there was nothing he could do except be there for her.

“I wasn't good enough for him.” Her words made Bucky’s heart ache with sadness, his eyes closing as he squeezed her hand a little tighter. “Maybe if I was better, he would've stay-” 

“Don’t say that.” Bucky shook his head, his voice cracking a little. Y/N was the most beautiful, funny, talented girl he’d ever met. The more time he spent with her, the more he realised that. It hurt him to hear her say that she wasn’t good enough, that she had convinced herself that was the reason Steve had left. Bucky cursed Steve in his head, frustrated with what his decision to leave had done to her.

Y/N blamed herself for Steve not coming back. She hated herself for not being a good enough reason for him to stay. She sat up most nights trying to figure out exactly what it was that made him decide to go, but she couldn’t understand it.

"I thought he loved me.” Bucky felt the tears streaming down his face as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly. It physically pained him to hear how much she was hurting, the constant torment going on inside of her mind. How lost she felt, how deep Steve’s leaving had cut her up inside.

“He did, Y/N. He still does.” Bucky’s words spluttered out between sniffs. The alcohol was helping to numb Y/N’s pain, her tears silently rolling down her cheeks instead of her usual aching whimpers and heavy breathing. 

“He didn’t even say goodbye.” She mumbled painfully, her wording changing from the perspective she’d had a few weeks ago. Her sleepless nights had given her more than enough time to think, and she’d come to the conclusion that Steve knew what his plan was, so he had the chance to say goodbye, to be upfront and tell her, but he didn’t. Why? The most obvious answer in Y/N’s mind was because he didn’t care, not about her anyway. “Don’t sit there and tell me you do that to someone you love.”

Bucky stayed silent for a moment, pondering in his own thoughts as Y/N went back to staring at the ceiling. At some point since he’d left, Bucky had questioned continuing to defend his best friend. Bucky had watched what Steve’s decisions had done to Y/N, what his actions were still doing to her and in Bucky’s eyes, nothing on earth was worth causing her this much sadness. 

“C’mon, Doll. You’re tired, I know. Let me take you to bed.” He whispered through his heavy breathing as he scooped her up, lifting her body effortlessly as he cradled her in his arms. Y/N didn’t object, nuzzling her face into his chest as her arms wrapped around Bucky’s neck.

Bucky going go bed with Y/N had become routine most nights since the first time she’d asked him to stay with her, they both enjoyed the company and knew neither of them expected anything more than a warm body to hold.

He carried her down the hall until they reached her room, laying her carefully on the bed once they were inside. He pushed the loose hair away from her face, rubbing his thumb lovingly over her cheek as he admired her. 

“I’m just getting you some comfy clothes, I’ll be right back.” Bucky whispered as he leaned over her, pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead. She nodded softly, not taking her eyes off of him as he she watched him move around the room. 

Y/N was beyond grateful for Bucky, he’d been by her side the whole time. Whenever she needed him, he was right there. She felt guilty for lashing out at him sometimes, when all he’d ever done was shower her with love and patience. She wondered if he’d had time himself to process Steve leaving, or if he was suppressing his emotions in order to support her. Either way, Bucky had always made sure that she never felt completely alone, he took pride in looking after her, sometimes it was the only distraction from his destructive thoughts.

“Here you go.” He hummed sweetly, sliding his hand under her back to lift her torso up from the mattress. She sat up obediently as Bucky’s hand let go of her, turning around so that she could get changed privately. 

She smiled shyly at his gentlemanly ways, somewhat reminded of the way Steve was. She looked down at her body as she pulled her shirt over her head, maybe if she looked like a supermodel, Steve would’ve stayed. 

She blinked rapidly to contain her tears, her lips dropping into a pout as she quickly changed into the clothes Bucky had set out for her. A sudden wave of self consciousness hit her as she turned her body to face away from Bucky, laying back down on the bed to hide her body under the covers.

“It’s okay if you want to leave, Buck. I understand.” Her voice came out as a whimper, her eyes dropping to look down at the mattress as she heard Bucky turn back around to face her. 

He sighed sadly as he looked down at her curled up alone on the bed, wishing she knew that he needed her as much as she needed him. He knew after tonight that she was blaming herself for Steve leaving, forcing herself to feel unworthy and unloved. 

“Hey,” Bucky called out to her softly, pulling back his side of the blanket as he slid in beside her. He gently rotated her body to face him, her eyes avoiding his as he pulled her against his chest. “I’m not going anywhere. I pro-” 

“Don’t.” She cut him off, shaking her head as she slid her arms up around his neck. “Don’t make any promises.” Her heartbeat quickened as the sadness engulfed her. “Please.”

Y/N woke up the next morning in a dream like daze, feeling strong arms wrapped tightly around her, her cheek pressed against a warm chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

“Steve?” She whispered out sweetly, it was the first moment of peace she’d had in months. Then reality came crashing down on her, remembering Steve was gone. Bucky heard her say it, it was the first time she’d said Steve’s name since he left, his whole body froze as his heart ached sympathetically for her. 

Y/N sighed sadly, pressing her face further into Bucky’s chest as she began uncontrollably sobbing. Wave upon wave of misery flooded her body as Bucky rubbed her back under the thin material of her t-shirt, trying his best to soothe her. 

“Shhhh,” Bucky whispered gently, his metal hand playing with the back of her hair as he held her close. “It’s gunna be okay.”

Bucky had repeated Steve’s words to her almost every day, not that she knew they were Steve’s words, but he didn’t know if he was saying them to comfort her or himself. Either way, as time went on, it was getting harder to believe that it was going to be okay.

———

Y/N had taken a nap for the first time in almost six months. She’d woken up to an empty bed, an unusual occurrence, especially since Bucky had been wrapped up in her arms when she’d fallen asleep.

They’d grown so close since Steve had left, their friendship had blossomed into an unbreakable bond, a deep connection that no one could explain. They understood each other on a level of complexity that formed so rarely it was unheard of. They relied on each other.

She padded softly down the hallway, heading towards the sound of Bucky’s voice coming from the common area. She slowed her steps, gliding her palm along the cold wall as she caught part of his conversation.

“No, I can’t do this anymore.” Bucky hissed to whoever was on the other end of the phone, his voice agitated yet quiet, as if he didn’t want to be heard. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m leaving.”

Y/N’s heart sunk deep into her chest, her head spinning in disbelief as she moved into view of the doorway just in time to see Bucky hang up the phone.

“Bucky?” She whimpered sadly, her chest heaving as it tightened around her heart, her eyes widened innocently as her bottom lip quivered. “You’re leaving?”

Bucky looked up at where she was standing, his eyebrows arching in panic as he realised what she’d walked into. “Y/N.” He started deeply, a lump forming in his throat as he watched her react. “I can explain.”

She shook her head rapidly as she squeezed her eyes shut, a bubbling sense of betrayal and anger erupted in her body. “You’re just the same as he is!” She yelled as she felt tears welling up in her eyes, turning to run back to her room as she thought about going through the process of losing someone again. She couldn’t take it.

She slammed the door behind her, bursting into tears as she paced around her room, slightly hyperventilating as the fear overwhelmed her.

“Y/N,” Bucky burst through her bedroom door, shutting it loudly behind him without a care as he walked over to her. “Calm down.”

She shook her head as Bucky grabbed her by her upper arms, forcing her to stop pacing as she hung her head to avoid his eye contact. “Were you even going to tell me?”

“Stop.” Bucky’s voice hardened as he tried to get her to listen, his eyes softening with worry as his heart raced.

“Or were you just going to leave without saying goodbye?” She disobeyed his command, her anger turning into sadness as she looked up into his gorgeous blue eyes.

“Listen to me,” He spoke softly, gripping onto her arms tightly as his thumbs rubbed over of skin. She looked away from his eyes, her eyebrows arching in sadness as she anticipated what he was going to say. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I can’t lose you too, Bucky. I can’t.” She panicked as she thought about losing Bucky the same way she’d lost Steve. She wanted to believe him, but how could she possibly know if he was telling the truth? Her lips stayed in a pout, her eyes glued to the right of his body.

Bucky sighed in frustration, his heart broke knowing she didn’t believe him. “Look at me!” He spoke loudly, shaking her arms a little as her glossy eyes finally met his. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?”

Y/N lifted her hands to hold onto the material of his shirt over his stomach, holding him close as if it would keep him there forever. “I heard you on the phone, Buck.”

“Yeah, I know.” Bucky smiled softly, slightly relieved that she was listening to him now as he admired her face. His flesh hand moved up to cup her cheek, rubbing her temple with his thumb. “You heard me telling Fury that I’m leaving, as in leaving the team, not leaving you.” He shook his head, his eyebrows arching as a sympathetic look covered his face.

Her eyes looked up at him with a soft sparkle that he hadn’t seen in a long time, he let out a shaky breath, his eyes softening as he smiled down at her. “You’re really not leaving?”

He shook his head as he watched her sigh in relief, his arms wrapping around her to hold her close. “I’m not going anywhere, doll.”

“Trust me, Y/N.” Bucky whispered as he admired her face, his thumb rubbing across her cheek soothingly. “It’s gunna be okay.” Something about the way Steve said those words made it sounds true, but when Bucky heard himself say it, it was hard for him to believe.

———

“What the hell am I supposed to tell Y/N?” Bucky looked over at his oldest friend, his eyes saddened with stress and responsibility. “She’s gunna ask questions, Steve.”

“Tell her I’ve left. That I’m not coming back.” Steve instructed the long haired super-soldier, sadly running his hand through his blonde hair.

“And you think she’s just gunna accept that?” Bucky shook his head as he kicked a pebble next to his foot absentmindedly. He looked back up at Cap, trying to make him understand. “She loves you, Steve.”

“Bucky, you know I have to do this.” Steve pressed his lips together as he looked sympathetically over at Bucky. His decision wasn’t an easy one, and his best friend trying to change his mind was only making it harder. “I’m leaving her with my best pal.”

Steve grabbed Bucky’s shoulder reassuringly, witnessing the distress on his face, what Steve was asking him to do was huge. “It’s gunna be okay, Buck.”

Bucky sighed, trusting that Steve knew what was best as he wrapped his arms around his friend to say goodbye. “No matter what happens, she can never find out the truth, Buck.”

tag list:

@harrysthiccthighss

@annestine

@bestofbucky

@be-patient-be-good

@nothing0is4here

@velvetcardiganbucky

@sexwithhiddlesbatch

@codyl-angdon​

[oikadori]

a/n: not me crying at 2am about an Oikawa edit, that was my twin sister not me at all...this is totally self indulgent so uhm...yeah. Hope you enjoy it tho!!

edit: i'm so sorry for reposting again but i really feel that the best exposure is int the first hours let's hope this time it stays 😔

Oikawa Tooru x fReader

Summary: in which you are tired of hearing how is never enough for Oikawa Tooru.

Genre: angst, fluffy end tho, established relationship

Now playing ⊳ King by Lauren Aquilina ; Next to me by Imagine Dragons

WC~2k

It had become part of your routine at this point, sitting on the couch for hours, staring bluntly at some program as you wait for your boyfriend to come home.

It was not the passion he has for volleyball that has you on a gloomy mood today. It was  not falling asleep on an empty bed as you heard the sounds of balls hitting the wooden floor coming from the speakers of his laptop in the living room, and it was not how  your throat becomes dry after you begged him to sleep.

But you were tired, that is the only way to express it, tired of feeling your heart clench at the way he neglects himself, at this point you didn’t even care if he neglected you, which wasn’t the case, but him.

Your phone always got texts from him, asking if you had breakfast, if you had lunch or simply saying a hello. He called you before coming home offering you to bring some sweet from that store you liked so much. But, when you asked him if he had a good lunch, those tests always seemed to get lost in his inbox.

Oikawa always gave you a smile as the same words came out of the lips that kissed you every morning.

“Don’t you want me to be the best, my love?”

That simple phrase always seemed to wrap your heart in a death cold no matter the sweetness in his tone, they made impossible for you to come with an argument that would make Oikawa’s stubborn head understand. Understand that he was slowly tearing himself up and hurting you in the process.  

However, none of that is what had you sitting on the couch right now, arms crossed over your chest and lips pressed together, but as soon as Oikawa crossed the door, he knew the exact reason.

“Y/N-chan? I thought you were going out with your friends today”, he drops the bag on the ground, the keys of your shared apartment hitting the floor in the process, “Shit”

Your eyes are trained on the way his face contorts as he reaches for the keys, making your heart sink.

“Anyways, how are you, cutie?”, Oikawa stands in his full height before displaying a closed-eye smile at you.

However, his trademark grin fades as he sees your brows furrowing together, the air suddenly charging with the accumulated tension.

“Is there something w–“

“You tell me”, when you look at his knee with inquiring eyes, Oikawa blinks before turning his face away from you.

“It is nothing”, his mouth twitches down, “I’m fine”

‘no you are not’

His answer only makes you sigh loudly as your mind goes back to the early hours of today, the scene that made your chest sting popping out.

Oikawa had kissed your forehead like every other  morning before mumbling a brief goodbye, he chuckled lightly at the way you babbled some sort of greet and  he walked to the door like every other day but he failed to notice how your eyes opened and gazed at him.

His eyes widened as he felt the burn on his right leg, not knowing you were watching in horror the way his knee falters, causing his leg to tremble before giving in to gravity. He held onto the handle tightly, gritting his teeth to capture the whine that threatened your sleep. However, when he turned around, he founded your half-closed eyes fixated on him, but before you could say anything, he rushed away hoping your mind was clouded enough with tiredness to forget about it.

“How long?”, you ask, standing up slowly and moving towards him.

“I don’t know, what–”

“When started hurting this bad?”

His gaze fixes on the ground, his fists clamp together, annoyance bubbling up in his stomach. He knows what’s coming, he has heard that discourse way too many times to not know how this conversation will go.

“Since always Y/N!”, he cries out almost in pain, his hair moving violently matching with his gestures, the gap in your mouth mirrors the shock in you.

“You need a break Tooru…”

“So they can found someone better? No, thank you”, he lets out a dry laugh as he looks down at you.

“What is the point if you end up not being able to walk without limping??!!”, your voice falters at the end as you picture him holding onto the handle for stability, “You are out of control…”

Oikawa’s nails dig into his palm as he frowns, eyes narrowing at you with dangerous intensity.

“As if you knew…” , the sharpness in his voice makes nothing but press the wound in your heart furthermore.

“Of course, I know, damn it! Tooru you are barely sleeping! I don’t know if you’re even eating properly since we almost never have any meal together!”

And then as if your words had hit the right nerve inside the setter, Oikawa snaps, the look he shoots at you makes your movements halt and your voice dissolves into silence. He was tired and frustrated but ultimately scared and the fact you couldn’t see how scared he was, only frustrates him more.

“No, you don’t know a fucking thing! I need to get better!!”

“Tooru you are their regular setter already!”, you scream at him your face getting red with anger as your tone fades into a bare whisper, “Nothing is enough for you, isn’t it?!”

Oikawa knew that the question itself wasn’t entirely related to his volleyball career. The pleading look you give him and the tremble in your lips tells him that you are not only referring to the all the medals and recognitions but about your relationship itself.

You were asking him if you weren’t enough for him…And maybe you weren’t.

“No!”, the word comes out rushed, his thoughts getting more and more clouded by frustration. You grit your teeth when Oikawa places a hand on his forehead as if he had a bad headache, as if you were the cause of the annoying hammering,

“You are so selfish…can’t you see all what you ha–”, your voice comes in low hiss and before you can finish he lets out a loud groan as the keys in his hand fly across the room landing with a loud thud against your living room table, making you flinch.

“Why can you just let me do what I have to? Is it too much for your head to understand?!”, he shouts, and you feel a sting in your chest, your eyes almost seem to fall from your face and your breath stops as you see how your boyfriend’s face contorts in malice.

“I could pick any of those girls who wait for me after the matches, you know?  I could have any of them and they wouldn’t be as half as annoying as you!”

Oikawa’s chocolate orbits are piercing at you in anticipation when he catches the redness saturating your eyes, causing his heart to drop to the ground.

“I–“

“Go, pick a nobody who only wants to fuck with you,” you try your best to not flinch, but the venom in his words make a silent tear to roll down your cheek, “because I’m not staying to watch how you destroy yourself”

You walk past him, brushing his shoulder roughly, your steps to the door are so fast, he doesn’t get a chance to even try to reach for your hand.

The slam of the door makes a feeling of anguish settle on his chest. His feet move subconsciously to the door when a loud groan leave his lips, the pain on his knee makes his whole body shiver as he falls apart a meter away of the handle.

“Shit, shit, shit”, he whines as he manages to move his body until his back is leaning against the door, his hand travels to his pocket, desperately pulling out his phone, a pout cross his features when your name pops on his recent calls. The phone rings and rings but no answer comes, when the small device turns off, he feels himself growing numb.

And the minutes turn into hours, the night wrapping the city as Oikawa rests against the door.

Oikawa had never felt this desperate, the pain in his knee is unnoticeable compared to the ache swelling in his chest. One call, one message, anything that would let him know that you are safe, that is all he needs right now.

“What did you do for her to stay with you?”, Iwaizumi’ words ring in his ears, “You are lucky Oikawa”

He was lucky indeed, his head drops to the back, hitting the wood, his breath falters as tears stream down his face until they turn into uncontrollable sobs, the sting on his knee and the guilt mixing painfully together.

Suddenly, the door pushes his body to the side, hitting the back of his head causing him to grunt.

“Tooru?”, his eyes widen, he turns immediately to encounter your still glassy eyes gazing down at him in confusion, “What are you doing on the floor?”

Your voice is stoic however it is music for Oikawa’s ears, he quickly brushes the tears away from his face as he tries to stand up, a hiss slipping his throat.

“Oh god, Tooru!”, you quickly leave the store bag you are carrying and bend down to support him, “I bought some–

“I’M SO SORRY Y/N!! I-I DIDN’T MEAN TO–“, he groans as you try to lift him up but your small figure can’t do much to move the former captain of Seijoh, so you just drop him carefully back on the floor and kneel in front of him, “P-Please don’t leave…”

Your silence makes his heartbeat pace faster and he grabs your hands tightly, his gaze fixes on yours and you notice the fear his orbits hold. You have never seen him this vulnerable and your eyes don’t fail to show your surprise.

“Please don’t leave me Y/N-chan“, your lips press softly over his own before he says anything else, Oikawa’s brows furrow together as he squeezes your hands gently, sighing, relived.

“You should get someone better–”, he says,

“You are probably right”, you sigh, “you did hurt me, but– I guess I just love you that much”, he loses himself in the softness of your voice and tears threaten to come out again.

“I truly admire how hard you work but you have to take care of yourself Tooru–“,his glassy eyes look at you, still not able to believe you’re here, next to him, you bit your lip before cupping his cheek, “–you might not be the king of volleyball yet, but for what it is worth, you’re the king to me”

You blush violently but not even as close as the flustered red that tints Oikawa’s features, he leans in hesitantly to claim your lips and you both melt in the kiss.

He never thought such words would made him feel so complete and he realizes that all he ever needed was you by his side.

“Not gonna lie, I was hoping you’d say, ‘you are the king of my heart’ or something like that”

“I-Can’t you just take the stupid compliment?”, he chuckles with a husky tone but suddenly stops, he places a hand on your cheek his thumb making soothing circles over your flushed skin.

“Thank you”

“Uh?”

“For giving me another chance”, your knees start to sore from kneeling on the floor but you can’t move as his chocolates eyes stare into your own brimming with emotion, “I love you so much, I’m so sorry Y/N”

“If so, stop overworking yourself, okay?”

Your fingers tangle with his brown locks as he whispers a silent yes, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping your torso tightly as if he was still scared you fade away.  

Oikawa doesn’t  have a  throne, but he’ll proudly wear the title you gave him, and he’ll do his best the be worthy of the crown that comes with it.

❀ Please reblog if you like it! ❀

Thanks for reading ♡♡♡

[hxnmantii]

Good little Kitten

tw: Dacryphilia, edging, pet play, a bit of degradation, mirror sex, humping, foot job (?), a bit of praising as well, Mentions of Master

Rating: M for Mature (+18)

Pairing: Sub! Kageyama x Gn!reader

A/n: Dom! Tobio this and Dom! Tobio that but what about Sub!Tobio hmmm?? Pillow Prince! Tobio?? Representantion people. Anyways this is my first fic for @ultimate-astridwriting event as well as my first smut I’ve written on here so please look forward to it. Creative criticism and comments are appreciated!

It all started with the stupid nickname Kitten. His teammates started calling Kageyama that after coming to the realization that he was not only obsessed with milk but had similar behavior traits of a cat. It didn’t really bother him much though. As long as it didn’t intervene with you or volleyball, he didn’t give a rats ass what they called him unless it was ‘the king’ but even then he became used to the insulting nickname. The real problem that sparked the flame was when you started calling him kitten, one of his teammates running their big mouthes to you about it.

Ever since then you slyly tuned into buying more cat items, coming home each day with something cat related whether it was stickers, thigh highs, or a cat bottle. Kageyama accepted the gifts nonetheless because he enjoyed the extra attention that came with it. That why he was unsurprised when you came home today carrying another baggie from the store.

“Y/n what’s in the bag?” He asks, his blueberry eyes watching your every move. He just knew that you were up to something, the ridiculously big smile on your face evident to that. You shimmy towards him before pulling out your lug for the day. A realistic looking black tail that ended with a silver metal plug, matching kitten ears and a collar met his curious glaze and he froze. To say that he didn’t even have the heart to ask what it was an understatement. At this point he just grateful you haven’t tried to feed him cat food.

“Who is this all for?” His voice meeting a range of disinterest although internally he was all over the place. It didn’t effect your excitement in the slightest for all you did was lean in closer. He audibly gulps.

“For you, babe.” You say as you push the stuff towards him only for it to meet his refusing hand. He pushes it back to you, an awkward smile on his face so he can politely decline.

“Oh..uh no thank you. I’m not into cosplay.” You giggle. You drop the cat toys on the couch to place your hand on his cheek and caress his cheekbones, his head naturally leaning into your touch. The smile never leaves your face as you watch him soak in your warmth. He look up only for his eyes to widen at the soft look of lust and adoration on your face. He can’t help but turn away from your daunting glaze, his cheeks turning a light pink. Of course, You don’t accept that because you slide into his lap and force him to look into your eyes by firmly but gently gripping his chin.

“It’s not cosplay silly. It’s pet play!” Your eyes are only met with confusion. His innocence was both pure and daunting. With volleyball being his main priority over everything expect recently you, it’s not a surprise. You explain to him what pet play was and how you use the tail. The color of tomato was understatement of what color he turned but you continued to stroke his cheek in hope that he was relax again.

The idea of completely surrending himself over to you whilst you coddle him and call him a good kitten but make him act like a cat gets him undeniably excited. He would never confess out loud though. But you knew, you always knew. Understanding Kageyama was like reading a book, his expressions that he could never hold back, telling you all that you needed to know. His dick twitches which doesn’t go unnoticed.” C’mon baby what do you say?”

“I want to be your kitten, Master. Please let me be your kitten.” Your Cheshire Cat grins returns and you hop off his lap to sit next to him. Piling up the toys into the bag, you wordlessly nod towards the bedroom and he’s instantly up and walking at almost an excited speed walk.

You meet him in the room to see him patiently waiting for you on the bed. You tsk while shaking your head disappointedly. “This won’t do. Kittens don’t sit on the bed especially not if they’ve been outside. Get down.”

No questions asked, he’s on the floor immediately although confused. He’s seen cats sleep on the bed so why was he not allowed on the bed. He wanted to ask questions but he was too embarrassed at his lack of knowledge on this topic to even muster enough courage to look at you. His eyebrows unconsciously furrow in concentration. You chuckle.

“Baby,” his eyes snap up to met yours, your amused glaze reigning down on him. “You’re thinking too hard about this. Not everything I tell you is going to be just like what a cat would do, okay? Remember this is just foreplay.”

“Yes Master.”

“Good.” You crotch down to his level, a smile decorating your face. You caress his face before running your hands through his black hair and similar to a cat he hums happily, leaning into your wispy touch. Your eyes widen. He was too damn cute.

"Such a good kitten," you whisper. Once again taking your place above him. "Strip and stick your ass in the air."

He hesitates momentarily, another bright red blush blooming across his face as his eyes drag towards the floor and he starts pulling his clothes off one by one, the silence only furthering his embarrassment. You leave him to it so you could bring the body length mirror from out the closet. Standing in front of him, you block him from looking at himself yet.

"You're going to look so cute as my kitten, baby." You whisper whilst putting the black cat ears on, the collar following afterwards. You then move behind him, the tail and lube in your hands. "Color?"

"Green" he mutters. You smile and rub your hands up and down his back in attempt to soothe his nerves. It's not like he hasn't taken anything bigger but exploring new kinks always made him nervous. "Okay kitten, i need you to keep your eyes on me. The whole time. Understand?"

“Yes Master.” You can hear him gulp before he lifts his head up to meet your eyes in the mirror . You give him a reassuring smile before drenching your hands in the slippery liquid and sticking your index finger. Immediately, you’re rewarded with a low moan. His moan spurs you on as you continue to slip it in out of his tight hole, making wet lewd sounds that only made his dick harder.“P-please more Master” He ask. In response, you kiss his strong back. “Of course my cute little kitten since you asked so nicely.”

You slide in your second finger next to the first and search for that spongy spot. You know you find it when he lets out a high pitched moan, arching his back more so he could meet your thrusting. You took it upon yourself to grab his dick and match your finger’s pace. His moans only getting louder.Every whine and mewl was absolute heaven to your ears as he allowed himself to be immersed by the pleasure he was receiving. Oh god he was almost there. The way you expertly fucked his hole while stimulating his dick at the same time had him closing his eyes, his arms getting weak with each bolt of pleasure.

His dick pulses. The ending was right in hindsight but just as he was about to cum, you stop and take your fingers off of him. He cries out, his eyes snapping open into the mirror. His tear filled eyes meet your disappointed ones. “What a bad kitten. Didn’t I tell you to keep your eyes on the mirror?” His frown deepens as he nods. “And aren’t you suppose to tell me when you come? Tsk tsk That’s two rules you just broke baby. Now I’ve gotta punish you.”

“W-wait I didn’t mean to...please..” His ocean eyes filled with tears that pulled your heartstrings and you almost considered not punishing him, almost. You unexpectedly stick your fingers back in his hole and add a third finger. A high pitch mewls escape his lungs as he grips the floor at the overwhelming pleasure. Quickly he was brought back to that high and once again he was pleading to cum. You continue the abuse on his hole only to snatch your hands out of his hole again. “Color?”

“FUCK! GREEN! PLEASE GO” You place a kiss on his ass and rub his hips soothing, watching his every expression through the mirror as you slide the large metal plug in. He lets out a silent moan at the feeling of being so full so quickly, his legs trembling with the new weight that kissed his prostate. At this point, his tears had spilled over, racing down his fac as he releases a shaky breath. “You did so well kitten. I’m so proud of you. Just look at how cute you look with your tail.”

He didn’t know when but at some point he had let his head fall to the ground. He slowly lifts his head and forces himself to sit upright, the tail sliding in deeper and putting more pressure on his prostate. The overwhelming pleasure makes him double over and he lets out a pussy throbbing moan. It was just too much so instead of looking at himself, he turns to look up at you with the biggest puppy eyes while grabbing your leg. Any humiliation he had earlier was thrown out, his only concern now being the ache in between his legs as he humps your leg pathetically. You can’t help but chuckle.

“It seems like your team has gotten it wrong. You’re more like a bitch in heat than a cute kitten.”

“Ahh p-please Master...I’ve been good..g..ood...I’m your good boy pleas.” You shake your head. You spoil him absolutely rotten. Removing your leg from his grasp, you salutner over to the bed.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty. Come sit in front of the bed.” Without telling him, he crawls to sit in front of you. He’s a trembling mess due to the tail still putting pressure on his prostate. A shiver runs through you as his tears run anew.

“You may cum but only from the tail and my foot.” He whines but comes closer none the less, grabbing your foot to apply pressure to his tortured, weeping dick. To make it a bit more fun, you turn on the vibration tail and he screams out in pleasure, almost cumming right then and there. You watch in amusement as he struggles to buck his hips against your foot, sobbing out incoherent words about cumming.

“Oh god ‘lease...ahhh p-lease can I-I c..um” he sobs.

“Go ahead kitten.” He sits back on the tail and allows the vibration to set him off. He’s cum hard, the fluid flying across his chest and almost touching his face. The aftershocks shake his body violently allowing him to let out one prolonged moan. You allow the vibration to run until he’s whimpering out from overstimulation. Immediately,he’s in your arms, breathing harshly in the crook of your neck.“You did so good baby. You’re such a good boy. Can you lay on your stomach for me?”

He silently nods and weakly moves onto his stomach so you could remove the tail. He lets out a high whine as you slowly pull the large butt plug out before helping him sit back up into your arms. You pass him the water that had been sitting on the nightstand while getting out the baby wipes and cleaning his body. He puckers his lips and you happily indulge, giving him a soft kiss before taking off the ears and collar.

“Thank you.” He whispers bashfully. You smile at him and run your hand through his hair; his hum of content vibrating into your chest. “Now let’s move to the bed okay?” He nods again and lifts himself into the bed, your worried self following. He pulls you into his chest and you snuggly up, the both of you falling asleep with smiles on your face.

[muffindaddystyles]

Tell me you love me, before I go.

A/N: A very short smutty writing I had in my swirling whole night, which unapologetically I ended up writing in the wee hours of dark.

Summary: Harry and Y/N are rivals -- very passive aggressive enemies. When on a mission Y/N breaks into his room he had no choice but to punish her.

AU: Rivals to lovers, dark sci-fi, angry rough sex, spanking and spitting, reassurance kink and unrequited love.

A war between two groups. Left one with nothing but a tech base and other with almost everything. So the Arsonists raid the Phantoms' buildings to steal food items and necessary fuels for their people since they're mostly unarmed due to lack of weapons they try to use their brain as much as possible. 

Y/N works in one of the tech bases of Arsonists and right now she's standing with her five more mates trying to figure out how to break through these large gates of the villain's building, one of his most strong headquarters. 

They've to collect some data before another truck of fuel arrives for Phantoms next Wednesday so they could have access to it without doing much effort. 

Once sneaking in successfully because the two guards were too muddled in gossiping their arsess about their maiden. The building's nothing too extravagant, sleek and able to live, dimmed to an unpleasant light indicating everyone inside it is sleeping. 

She barges into the villain's room easily and almost had all the information in her hands from his drawers when the door to the room banged close, startling her at spot and the frames of her glasses fell on the carpeted floor. 

"Shit." 

"D'ya think cursing would take ye' out of here? if so you're down bad" Her heart sinks in when his cold insensate voice booms within the walls — a heavy boot comes crushing her glasses, again and again mercilessly. 

Her blood boils. Because, what the fuck. Doesn't he have any manners? 

"Do you think I need my glasses to punch the shit out of you, you prick!!" She pounced at him, almost breaking his nose into a splitted eiffel tower but he dodged it, twisting her wrists at her back and snatching the files from her sneering menacingly —- letting her painful grunts fly over his head without any remorse. 

"Well, well." She yelps when he tightens his grip angrily, "Look what cat dragged in come little mousey we're going to have some fun." She didn't know until now that someone could be this strong as he puts her in a chair like a rag doll binding her with no escape out. 

She tries to squirm and wriggle her butt out but he just tuts standing tall and evil in front of her, she rakes her gaze slowly up to his tanned biceps and clavicles popping from underneath his flimsy shirt, matted curls grazing his shoulders. 

"Oh no, trust me sweetheart, you're going to want to stay strapped in here. We're going to find out how many times an Arsonist can break –- and for the fact my people will kill you on the spot if you step out of my room." Shiver runs down her body from fear and he chuckles, flopping onto the edge of his bed, man spreading, leaning onto the heels of his palms behind him. 

"You're pathetic!" She spits out. Full of venom. 

"Pfft, a thief telling me that 'm pathetic." He shakes his head and she's despising his audacity as if he rules the world. She could kick him square in his sexy face but the thing's she's bound to this damn uncomfy chair. 

"Atleast, I don't go on killing people." She grumps and it's like she pushed a button when his irises turn pitch dark. Her eyes widen in astonishment, reeking with fear when he leaves his spot in a thunder striding towards her furiously and drags the chair closer to him, almost lifting it inches above floor. 

The next thing she knows that a gun is resting against her temple ready to be fired, "Ye' really that desperate fo' me to prove it to you, huh?" He growls, hooded gaze following the gun that's sliding down her cheek and the way her breath wavers —- lips trembles, nose twitches he knows he's fucked. 

"Will it hurt?" If she's going to die it better be an easy way. 

His eyes soften at that. Taking in the rosy features of her, the plushiness and squishiness of her skin that his fingers feels like dipping into cream. The women of Phantom aren't like this; they're built differently to fight and kill who wrongs them -- they're almost heartless at this point. 

"Dunno, You'll get to know after taking one." He shrugs like it's not a biggie tipping her chin with the gun's pointer and her eyelids slip shuts. She couldn't cry. Even her dead body wouldn't forgive her if she would cry infront of her worst enemy for the last time. 

"I hate you, Harry. I'd never ever forgive you for kidnapping my cat when we were small." There she said it. If she's gonna die soon she better let it off her chest. Before it could hit him right in the wound he builds a shield fast arguing back with a stoic chuckle. 

"Guilt tripping wouldn't help, darling." He tuts patting her cheek with the gun's barrel —- funny case it's empty of bullets. He just shooted all of them whilst doing target practice. 

"Fuck you." She yells. 

"It'd take much more action than just undressing me naked with your bare eyes." He squeaks dramatically. Stepping away and pouts when she huffs trying to kick her feet in his direction. 

"Not my fault that you're a perv." 

He pouts feigning fake disappointment putting a hand on his chest, "You're such a grudge holder." 

"Think about 10 ways to fuck me until then 'm heading to make amends for you -- see what they offer in return of their precious nerd." He smirks, it's sad such a gorgeous face could be such evil she thinks. 

// 

When he comes back she's fallen asleep from getting tired and exhausted being trapped in the same spot for hours, "Sorry, peaches but they don't want you back –- even told me to kill you if that what it ta —- oooh" He halts in his tracks closing the door behind him quietly not to wake her up and pads softly towards her, putting her dangling head back gently in a comfortable position and tucks a strand of her hair that's tickling her nose behind her ear. 

You're not supposed to act that way with your enemy, you FUCKER. 

His brain screams but his heart says otherwise. 

She has changed. She never cries anymore. Everytime they kidnapped her or she ended up being caught from his henchmen —- she'd always need company to make her feel less frightened from the hollowness of their buildings, would cry when they'd lock her up in dark rooms. 

It's awfully hurtful how once bestfriends turns into rivals just because of a conflict that ruined their and their families lives.��

She has been doing all of this for people who doesn't even care about her. They're using her and many others like her to build a nuclear power plant so they could become intimidating. 

He retires to sleep. Debating in his sleep whether he should just free her and tell her to sleep in one of the rooms of the buildings but soon the possibilities died when he was high in his slumber. 

// 

He groans, knuckling the sleepiness away from his eyes. He woke up from loud the thumping and found Y/N trying to break the door knob, he winces covering his ears when she screams watching him lunge towards her in rush. 

His chocolate curls bouncing atop his head. His emerald eyes speaking with morning's gold and lips ripe like cherry. His brows kinked in annoyance and expression pinched in rage. 

"You're confident." He rasps out in his morning husk and slams his hands on either side of her head trapping, cornering her between him and the wall.

"Did you really think it was going to be this easy." He nothing but purres, pushing her against the door. She gasps abruptly aware of their height differences moreso the radiation of power he daunts that she ignored her whole life. 

"Hmm." He hummed. Eyes black with intimidation burning her under the intensity of it, he keeps his focus on her, smirking. "It suits you. This trying to fight me, desperation is a beautiful look on you." 

"Fuck you." 

"I mean if, ask nicely." His smile is sweetly honey and lethal if you ask me. 

She glares at him with blazing daggers, "This isn't the way you make people love you." Her chest heaving with his heat close to her and his scent enveloping her. 

"Love?" He laughs fondly even, crinkled forming by his eyes and he breathes out when she hovers her dry lips over his's, "Sweet thing this isn't about love — if ye ask me far from that." He's lying. He's full of bullshit. 

"And yet you don't touch me or hurt me." She squints her eyes up at him wrecking her brain how to slip away from his hold, "If you beg so." He simpers awfully lewd for her. Sure as rock for what he said with his whole chest. 

"Come get me then!" She trips him aside and rushes for the door when he pushes her into it tightening his hand around her throat, it's aching him to tell her the truth but he wants to let her know her worth. He rests his forehead against her's muttering a rumble deep within his chest, "They don't want you Y/N." Her windpipes squeezes painfully. The statement punching her lungs. Tears springing in her eyes. 

"You're lying!!" She looks up at him shattered and desperate. 

He caresses his knuckles against her tear stained cheek, "Shh, shh baby I'll always want you even if they don't — " He jerks back when she blows hit at his brawny chest yelling at him. 

"It's because of you!! You, you, you." He sighs. Grabbing her wrists and pining them above her head, "Shut up, please." His chillness irks her more and she nips at him feastly. 

"Make me." So he does. When her eyes drift up at his determined ones it takes her breath away and she knew it was over for her. 

His lips catches her's in a hard kiss, driving them apart with the force of it. Nothing gentle mind mushing about it rather pricking needles into her skin with the severeness of it. She feels the door rattling against her back when he shifts, pushing her against it with his hips, every thought of her exploding into white noise of want and lust. The dark curl of desire twisting in her stomach and pearling sweat on her neck. With the last thread of restraint in herself she tries to pull away. 

"No." He says bringing her lips back to his's. Cupping her cheeks to deepen the kiss and it's ardent as before not loosing it's spark, she slips her hands under his shirt — pulling him closer and the low groan at the back of his throat, a small pleading noise of want sets her skin on fire. 

"Fuck me."  She mewls. Trying to latch on his body like a kitten with it's dainty paws. 

He glides his clammy palms down her bum and grabs her thighs wrapping them around his waist. Not breaking the kiss but tasting ever dulcet corners of her mouth and creating heavenly noises. 

The next thing they know she's crawling back with the help of her bum to settle in the nest of pillows and he's fumbling with his belt buckle quite aggressively, she tugs the hem of his shirt down not satiated enough from having his lips on her and meanders her fingers in his hair to pull at them roughly in order to flush her chest up against his's.

"Never thought your sheets would have smelled other than sex." Because, genuinely. They smell that of fresh mint and roses. 

"So, you think of me doing dirty on this bed you're laying at the moment?" He asks mock and degradation evident in his tone, "D'ya get wet dreamin' 'bout me railin' ye' to death?" He grazes his teeth along her jaw and sucks at her earlobe counting in her silence. 

"Shut up." She gasps, probably from the abrupt press of his bulge against the inside of her thigh. 

"Make me then." He growls. Fisting the hem of her hoodie and pulls it over her head throwing it among his skinny jeans. Her head falls back and lips tremble from the effect of slap he landed at her outer thigh —-- she knows she can't shut him.

Though he knows that her single command and he'd be at his knees for her. 

When she clings to him for dear life and whimpers in his ear softly, his eyes widen in realization and he leans away to watch her expressions diffuse into manifold emotions. His nose scrunches up and he holds back his cooes for her. 

She's a subby. A cute one. 

Her eyes blink open to the sight of him out of his boxers and it waters her mouth —- her mind manipulating her to lunge forward and take his heavy member in her palm to give a good suck to his shiny crimson head. 

Down her throat. Nestle her nose against the trim patch of hair under his balls. 

"Like what y'see, doll?" He highers his chin quite smug about her staring and she hates him for that, "Pretty cocky for someone who likes staring at his enemy's tits." Her voice groggy. She wheezes a squeak through her nose when Harry pulls his shirt over his head revealing toned pecs and abs -- skin sewn with tats. 

Unfortunately, she doesn't get to stare at it for longer when that shirt comes wrapping around her eyes blocking her sight. 

He can never let her have nice things would he?

"Wanted to gag your mouth with it … but I'd rather love hearing you moan fo' daddy." He nips at her collarbones -- sucking it harshly to leave a prominent mark. His calloused hand rubs over her tummy smiling against her skin when she jolts and lets a little squeal slip. 

His cock drips precome at her tummy and her breath shudders into heavy pants when the tip of his cock dipped in her belly button nudging it. 

"Ha —- " He glides his sticky head down her happy trail and slips his large palm into her panties cupping her with his middle finger teasing her entrance, "Couldn't hear you!" He ducks down to put his ear near her lips and drums the pads of his digits against her cheek. 

She huffs and squirms for a second then moans breathily when he spanks the side of her hip leaving a sting, "Oh my god, daddy." His grin victorious and he lowers down to smudge his lips against her parted ones -- kissing her tongue and humming around it. 

She's somewhere it's hard to configure out, in between paradise and wonderland. 

"Tell me princess, what d'I do with you in your filthy dreams?" He grabs her jaw patching gentle pecks against her lips and he slops his finger into her throbbing pussy, "Fuckin' drippin' down ye' bum fo' me." She cries out trying to hook her thigh around him but he hisses slapping her cunt hardly -- turning her into a thrashing mess. She's trying hard to suppress the bitter-sweet sensation of her own body getting out of control and her glistening pussy lips flutter erratically creating sloppy noises. 

She squirts drenching the sheets underneath them and her panties. 

He slides his arm under her arching back pushing her up against his chest with a jerk, "Daddy's askin' you somethin'." He grits, propping his knee in between her thighs to rub it against her soaking centre. 

She gulps, licking her dry lips, "You–your rings … ah!" Her whimpers are muffled against his chest and he twists his thumb in tight circles to smear her wetness from her slit to clitoris, "What 'bout them, doll?" 

How does she tell him she liked what he did earlier. 

"Daddy, please … " She whines blindly searching for his face but he grips her wrists in his one hand and groans, "How's daddy gonna make you feel good when you don't tell him, pet?" He takes a kitten lick of her perky nipple. Teasing her areola with the tip of his cold tongue against her warm sweaty body —- he laps at it hungrily then creates a suckling noises, the noises, his slobbery tongue on her body, his fingers curled inside her pussy and the thick humidity is too overwhelming, she feels like fainting. 

She wants him, inside her needy pussy. 

She can't take the teasing anymore. 

"Spanking! I – I liked it when you did it, please." He kisses her nipple for the last time before smashing his mouth against her's in a fervent sinfulness and parts away with a smooching noise to sit back on his heels, "It wasn't that hard was it? Just a word and I could give you my whole world." The sincerity in his voice makes her want to hug him and kiss him for lifetime but for now he has other plans as he rips her panties away moaning obscenely gruff at the sight of her pussy weeping for him to pound his cock inside her, so ready and full of dripping honeyed wetness  for him. 

"Your safe word is clouds." He whispers in her ear. He knows her limits and her resistance but by any chance he'd cross it he'd never forgive himself, "What's it?" He asks and she says in wavering, "Clouds." 

"Atta girl." He pets her cheek. 

Her nail scratches the side of his hands that are pinning her down when he spits on her already damp cunt, a loud noise resonates along with her needy cries when his free hand adorned in jewels came spanking her pussy and her pelvis remains lifted in air bathing in the sting of metal and the throb rattling in her whole core. 

"This's what you wanted?" He kisses his teeth slapping her slick clit again and again, "To be roughed up by daddy, hmm." She bobs her head squirming and wriggling. Her words struck in her throat. 

"To be manhandled." He hums a growlish moan tasting his own fingers coated in her juices, "I'll show you what being manhandled really feels like." He promises her. She gasps a sweet yelp when he flips her over and throws her bum up.

His cock rubbing against her thigh and her heartbeat fastens, anticipating something, crimping the sheets in her fists and mewls into the mattress when he spanks her ass loving the way it jiggles stroking it afterwards to subside the burn down before landing another brutal one. 

She bolts her eyes shut throwing back her hips at him and he lays all the way over her back pushing her down on the bed, her cum trickling down the inside of her thigh, "Want daddy's cock?" He asks. Slicking the head of his prick up and down her asshole and slit. 

When she nods vigorously he bumps it in furious circles against her swollen bundle of nerves, "Then beg fo' it," He says intimidatingly and she doesn't waste a second before blabbering shamelessly. 

"Daddy … please I want your massive cock inside me, all of it." In her entire lifetime -- she never once uttered these kind of words. 

His heart mushes into a puddle seeing her a babbling mess and grabby hands for him, he kisses her gently speaking to her with foremost affectionate, "shh, shh moppet. You could have it anytime you want it, daddy's g'na fill you to rim with his cum and make you keep it there for hours with his prick still snug inside your little pussy, just made for him, c'mere...yeah just like that." He lays her back gently that her front is facing him now and wraps his hand around her calve raising it and pushing it against her chest firmly.

A series of pornographic moans and whimpers echoes in his bedroom when he seathes inside her slowly stretching her out in by inch leaving a burn behind her pulsating walls, their breath laboured breaths mingling, "Fuck you're so warm baby —-- hugging daddy's cock so good." He whines looking down where they're connected and knotted. His stomach twists and turns, his hips stiffens and he resists from pushing inside her when she's not ready but her milking him with her wetness isn't doing him any mercy too. 

She gropes his ass, nudging him to move and their teeths clanks, temples falls against eachother and lips whisper prayers of their unrequited love when he pulls all the way back to pound back inside her roughly. 

"You're daddy's good girl, making him feel so good. I want to keep you to myself. all of you and cherish you, make love to you, w'na mark you however I want." He groans eyes rolling back under his closed lids grinding his hips against her's in rhythmic pleasuring motions to give her clit stimulations and she cries out feeling another bursting orgasm bubbling in her tummy. 

"'M gonna cum, daddy!" She tugs at his roots and he drives more maniacly inside her, "Squirt around daddy's cock pet, so your pussy could swallow it deeper inside you." The headboard of bed hits against the wall vigorously and she digs her heels deeper into the dimples at his back moaning at the top of her lungs when she gushes all over his dick making more squelching, soapy, dirty noises of him raming inside her. 

She desires for more. 

She has become one little insatiable thing. 

His balls smacks against her bum and his thursts turn faster to chase his high, "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He curses nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck and keeps his hand around his throat with the slight pressure of claimation. 

"Come fo' me again." He spanks her ass and she clamps shut down at him pushing him to the edge of ecstasy, "Squeezing me so tight -- gimme more, I know you can princess." Her legs tremble around his waist when she crampies around him and his cock's head strokes against her sweet spot doing wonders to just topple her off real quick. 

"Daddy!" She feels floaty and foggy head coming on his cock for the many times she has forgotten. Her mind blocking out even the weak shuddering whimpers and beaten moans of Harry as he reaches his orgasm unloading inside her -- his cum sticking thickly to her walls and some of it oozing outside of her pussy hole but he pumps it back with lazy strokes. 

He lifts his smushed face from the dip of her neck, his own curls sweaty against the nape of his neck and he smoothes his palms down her sides to calm her, his lips brushing featherly against the corner of her mouth as she keeps on blabbering something. 

When he tries to pull out gently she cries out pawing at his shoulders, "Daddy no!" He caresses her sweaty hair back and gets rid of her blindfold, pecking her nose sweetly. 

He wants to take care of her. He yearned to have her like this for years. He has to bring her back from her sub-space before it's too late. 

"It's no daddy anymore, petal. I'll crush you in this position — " Carefully he tries to retreat but stop when she says in a very dejected feeble voice, bottom lip wobbling and tears springing at the corners of her eyes, "You don't want me too?" OH NO. This's what Harry was afraid about. A breakdown. He saw the storm coming but didn't know it could be this worst right when she's in her sub-space. 

His face pales at that. His state in frenzy and panic. 

"No bubba. I want you my precious girl -- s'just you're gonna get tired like this, hmm. 'N I have so much to show you and make you meet new people -- couldn't have me baby walkin' on her wobbly legs for whole day could I?" He cups her cheeks tenderly and smiles down at her warmly smothering her in devoted kisses. 

"Promise, daddy?" She sniffles staring up at him with doe innocent eyes and he shakes his head, "Harry sweet angel, come back to me moppet." He keeps his gaze locked with her's, gliding his thumb delicately against her cheeks and seals his promise with a kiss. 

"Promise." 

She lets him pull out and he shushes her wrecked whimpers with his lips. Falling to side with a large puff of breather and embraces her with his arm slinged around her shoulders protectively and she hides her face in his chest, mumbling incoherent things and he tries to stay with her emotionally and physically much as possible -- assuring her and soothing her with his sweet nothings. 

"Harry." She whispers softly and his ears perks up at that looking down at her with most loving eyes, "Hi baby." He giggles quietly kissing the tip of her nose and she sniffs cuddling into him. 

"Sorry —- " He shakes his head pinching her chin to make her look up. 

"You don't have to darling -- s'okay, everything's alright." After, making sure she's okay and giving her million re-assurances because he loves to he cleaned her with a damp wash rag. 

"Such a pretty babe." He makes her blush treating her as if she's a china glass doll who'd break at his slightest poke and showers her in praises and kisses because dunno who got her self-esteem and confidence like that but that person sure needs to get punched in their face. 

"Did I hurt you?" He asks tenderly applying a thin layer of cream on her red imprints. She shakes her intervining her fingers into his's one by one and kisses his knuckle, "No." 

"Good." He chuckles as if he was holding his breath. 

"How bout you take a lil nap and I see if I could bring us some brekkie, hmm?" He's gonna break his own rule. Taking food from mess area to your rooms and taking long showers was never allowed, having lights on after 12 because of the risk of attacks. 

"'M not hungry, please stay." Her eyes half open and her face buried into his scented pillow, "Dunno. But to me you look like y'could faint any time soon." He says sternly pulling a snugly clean duvet over her body. 

"Okie but come back quick." 

"Don't worry. In a snap I'll be infront of you." 

//

It's her fourth day here. She came out of his room to socialize just a day before and she realized from the nasty glowers thrown her way that not a single person likes her. 

But it felt like spending a lifespan with Harry. To fill the emptiness of all those moments of their childhood together they lost once after the war. 

She got to know he's the best cuddler and likes to be a small spoon, she loves to jetpack him. He seems rather scary and is scary when he's commanding people off -- they wouldn't dare but to speak a word over him but he's this big softie Y/N likes to squish in their privacy. 

He got her glasses fixed and put them over her nose with a mishevious kiss, she was unable to not to grin when he murmered against her lips, "Now you could punch me with your glasses on." 

"Seems like I don't have to do that anymore." She shrugged squealing afterwards when he threw her over his shoulder tickling her till all she coul see was him and stars. 

It was all going on track until now when she was passing through the lobby to go to Harry who's practicing out in field, "What are you doing here Alex?" She asks angrily grabbing his arm and he tells her feeling relieved she's okay, "I'm here to take you back." 

"But they don't want me back." She grits, he catches her wrist pleading her sadly, "We want you back -- Nia waits for you daily." Nia is his five years daughter. 

"I know that … but — " How she's gonna tell him she's in love with one person they despise with their whole hearts. 

"But what — "

"Alex!!" He was in the midst when she sees a bullet approaching his way from the side of his shoulder and screeches loudly pushing him aside, the bullet makes it's home in her chest. 

It was fired from Harry's gun with his own hands that were loving on her an hour ago. Life drains out of his body and he feels sickness approaching to split his throat, knees turning weak as he stares his shaking hand in horror. 

Before, he could do anything another bullet hits Y/N in shoulder knocking her to floor and this time it was one of his people, the shot was fired on instinct. 

"Put your gun down!!" He shouts at him shoving him away with a single forceful push and strides towards where the love of his life's laying in a pool of blood. 

He pulls his hair maniacly, falling to his knees and pulls her up in his lap cradling her head gently to press his lips against her forehead, "No,no,no,no baby." He sobs wiping his tears away harshly to see her properly. 

"Ouch. It actually hurts." She gives him a frail smile raising her shaky hand to cup his cheek. 

Will it hurt? 

You'll get to know after taking one. 

He wishes he could takes his words back. 

"You'll be fine, you're okay, 'm so so sorry moppet. Didn't-- didn't know y'were standing behind him, bu –-- but s'...s'okay yeah —-- call the doctor!! Why nobody has called him yet!!!" His scream thunders aggressively as everyone watches  their commander this defenceless and vulnerable infront of them for the first time in shock. 

"It's not your fault, okay?" She manages to speak groaning and eyes rolling back from pain residing in her bones torturesly, he cries out like a wounded puppy patting her cheek to keep her awake, "Please stay with me baby, please." Her chest tightens. His chest tightens from the fear of loosing her and he stands up carrying her bridal style tumbling his way on wobbly legs towards the medical ward in the building. 

His tears shiny droplets on her skin and she nuzzles into his fragrance for the last time. 

"There was no happy ending to this," She murmurs. Any, sign of life fading from inside her and replacing her eyes with stoness.

He brings her closer to himself, "hey, hey now none of that -- you're not leaving. 'M not letting you leave." He kicks open the door and lays her limp body on the stretcher. Snapping his head outrageously in every direction to find any doctor but none and drags his palms down his teary face.

He couldn't stop crying.

He's loosing the sunlight of his bleak life he must protect her at all costs.

But, life's prize is something that would have him selling all of what he had worked for and still he'd be unable to even bring her back from cold dark earth.

"Shit. Shit ---– I'll patch you up myself. I know how to take a bullet out — " He creates a ruckus around to collect stuff, "Harry! Harry! listen to me." but her hollow anguish calls for him breaks him at last. 

"How about you spend these last few minutes with me because 'm really 'bout to die commander." She tries to keep her anxious voice cheery but fails drastically coughing blood, "Don't say that baby -- I just got you, don't leave me, don't make me hate myself again." Sad tears trickles down her cheeks and he feels like fainting imagining the pain, agony and fear she's suffering from. 

She's hating to leave him.

"Maybe in afterlife, we could have a nice homely house, long warm baths and two smol kittens —- and oh I forgive you for kidnapping my cat." She admires him for the last time wiping his tears away and tries to lift his head that's lowered into shame. 

She's so fond of him at the moment.

She gulps, trying to gasp for oxygen feeling her heartbeat drop to zero, pleading him, "Tell me you love me before I go." His bloodshot eyes snap to her's and his chest heaves ruggedly with heartbreaking sobs -- his words full of sorrow tasting the bitterness of goodbye on her lips streaking away the blood on her mouth. 

"I love you so much, baby. Never stopped. Never will." She cries at last kissing him back with all the blood she has left pumping to her heart and tries to exchange the words but it was too late before she lost it all -- cold in his loving embrace. 

"Stay…." He begs praying like he did never before. 

"Y/N!!" He screams trying to shake her alive and hugs his angel to himself with mournful wails. 

Everyone standing outside the room knows that they'll never see this Harry again. 

[aliwritesfic]

First Date (Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader)

Summary: Frankie only downloaded Tinder after Santi basically forced him to one night, and he never expected to actually meet anyone on there.

Word count: 2.4k

Content warnings: Oral (F receiving), P in V, age gap, online dating, condom used

(I haven’t written creatively in almost 7 years so if this is a waste of time I apologise, also tagging @absurdthirst because i sent them an anon last night about being nervous to post this lmao)

Frankie looked at your photo again and rubbed the back of his neck anxiously. He wasn’t used to this whole online dating thing, and he certainly hadn’t expected to meet anyone on it. Pope swore by it for one-night stands and fuck buddies, and practically forced him to download the app and create a profile while they were all at their favourite bar and Benny had gone home with some girl. He’d swiped right on only a few people and made even less matches. Any conversations he’d had on there fizzled out after a few hours after telling them he didn’t have Snapchat, or Facebook, or Twitter, or anything else like that.

Then he’d matched with you.

Your profile was simple – a couple selfies, a photo on a hike with a beautiful staffy, and a group shot on a night out. Your bio was short and sweet – criminal justice and community welfare student, intersectional feminist, nerd. Lover of cheesy one liners and bad jokes.

Frankie had swiped right almost immediately. The only thing that gave him pause was the age gap – twelve years between you. There were bigger gaps, of course, but he’d never dated anyone more than two years younger.

“You’re both grown adults,” Pope said looking over his shoulder, “what the fuck are you waiting for?”

So, with that, Frankie swiped right and was instantly greeted with a match. His stomach jumped again as you sent the first message, a simple but effective ‘hey, what do teachers and ancient history have in common? They both Babylon!’

You both chatted for a few more days before Frankie decided enough was enough. He asked you out for dinner and drinks at a local sushi place that had recently opened. He felt ill as he waited for your reply, wondering if it was too soon. It was almost an hour later that you replied ‘YES! How’s fri at 8:30 sound?’

It was a date. His first in over a year. The boys had come over to help him get ready, feeling like he was in high school all over again.

Frankie stood outside the restaurant, wishing he hadn’t left his cap in the truck, or at least wishing he’d picked somewhere that didn’t seem like it had an unwritten dress code. But he’d wanted to impress, and the reviews of this place had been positive.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside and moved towards the hostess. “Table for two, under Morales.”

“Right this way sir,” the hostess smiled at him and led him towards a table near the back, and Christ you were already there.

You were even more beautiful in person, in a tight dark dress, heels and a denim jacket thrown over the back of your chair. You were reading the menu, a small frown on your face as you squinted at it. You didn’t even notice him approach until he was standing right next to you. When you looked up, your mouth transforming into a grin, his heart skipped a beat.

“Frankie?” You said, your name sounding like heaven on your lips. Frankie sat down opposite you, his palms suddenly sweaty.

“Hey,” he went to say your name and you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“Please, everyone I like calls me Sunny,” you grinned at him and he knew exactly why.

“Well, Sunny,” Frankie felt himself grin back at you, “it’s nice to finally meet you properly.”

“I’ve been so nervous all day,” you admitted, “but a good nervous, like nervous excited. I was supposed to be making notes on one of my lectures today, but I couldn’t stop thinking about this date. It’s been so long since I’ve been on one, I just stressed myself out about it all day.”

“Well, that makes two of us,” Frankie laughed, relieved to know that the insanely beautiful woman in front of him was just as out of sorts as he was. He was beginning to feel more at ease with you already, something he hadn’t felt with someone new in a long while.

The waitress arrived then, beaming down at you as she asked if you were ready to order. Frankie ordered a plate of sashimi and a spicy crab roll, while you got a veggie roll, and you both ordered a shot of soju.

“Don’t like fish?”

You shrugged, “I’m allergic, not like deathly or anything but I get a rash and a really bad stomach ache. It sucked when I was travelling through Asia a few years ago.”

Frankie frowned, instantly regretting even suggesting the restaurant in the first place. “We can go somewhere else if you like,” he suggested, ready to do anything he could to make this a perfect first date.

“Oh god, no!” You smiled and Frankie’s stomach jumped. “I’ve been wanting to come here for a while now, so when you suggested it, of course I was gonna say yes.”

Frankie felt a little relieved at that, and you two talked for a while, waiting for your meals. He found out your dog was called Lola, you loved old music, and you were a disability support worker before your close cousin went to prison and you decided to enrol in university to study criminal justice. You found out he was a pilot, ex-military and he loved classic lit.

You continued to talk through your meal and several more drinks. He was beginning to deeply enjoy the sound of your voice, your laugh. You made him feel like you two were the only people in the room, everyone else was insignificant.

Eventually though, you both felt it was time to give up your table to someone actually paying. You tried to pay for your own meal and drinks, but Frankie insisted on paying. You both walked outside into the chilly night air, and Frankie couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you were even under the streetlights. You cleared your throat and Frankie noticed a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“I uh, I don’t really want this night to end, do you?” you asked. Frankie decided to do what he could feel himself wanting to do all night.

He stepped forward, closing the gap between you as he cupped your soft cheeks in his rough, calloused hands and kissed you. Your reaction was almost immediate, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and running your fingers through his hair, pressing your bodies together. Your tongue darted along his bottom lip and he instantly granted you access, his own tongue sliding into your mouth. He wanted you. Desperately.

“Do you want to come back to mine,” Frankie asked, his hands slid down to your waist, he kissed along your neck, feeling your pulse flutter under his lips. You moaned softly as his mouth found your collarbone.

“Yes,” you whispered, “god yes.”

He kissed you again, before breaking away to lead you back to his truck.

“How far?” you asked.

“Five minutes,” Frankie said, resting his hand on your upper thigh where the hem of your dress ended. He felt himself tighten in his jeans as he thought about what he wanted to do to you. He driver faster than necessary, turning the journey into a quick three minutes. Once the truck was off you didn’t waste a moment, pulling yourself onto his lap, straddling him between your thighs. Your lips met his frantically, like you were both starving for each other.

Frankie’s hardness pressed against his jeans as you ground against him. He kissed down along your neck and jaw, relishing in your soft moans. One hand stayed planted firmly on your ass, the other snaked up your body to your breasts, pulling your dress down to expose them. You weren’t wearing a bra, and the sight of your breasts in the silver moonlight was irresistible. Frankie’s lips kissed a path down your neck to your collarbone, down further still until he had a hard nipple in his mouth. His tongue flicked over it gently, while his hand played with the other, rolling it around between his finger.

“Frankie,” you moaned, arching your back to give him better access. “Fuck.”

“You like that baby?” he whispered looking up at you. You whimpered in response as the hand on your breast moved down your body toward your thighs.

“Please,” you spread your legs a little further for him, and his fingers began to massage your clit though your soaking underwear. Frankie’s tongue continued to work at your nipple licking and sucking while you cried out in pleasure.

His fingers teased the outside of your entrance, his thumb working your clit in methodical circles.

“Cum for me,” he murmured, his voice husky. You moaned in response, unable to form any words as his fingers slid easily inside of you. Frankie watched your face as he fingered you, his own cock straining against his jeans. God he wanted to fuck you, but not until you’d already cum for him.

Frankie moved his thumb in faster circles and you began to fall apart. You clenched around his fingers, crying out as your body shook with your orgasm. He moved his mouth up to kiss you, whispering between kisses.

“Fuck you’re so sexy,” he groaned.

“We need to go inside,” you panted, your body still trembling slightly. Frankie couldn’t agree more, fumbling with the door of his truck, then his house keys. The moment the door was open you were on him, pulling his jacket off his shoulders, unzipping his jeans. Your bodies moved together in the direction of the kitchen, knocking something down in the process.

Frankie moaned into your mouth as your hands glided up his torso under his shirt. He pressed you against the counter and lifted you up, yanking your dress down to your ankles in the process.

“I want to taste you,” he whispered in your ear, “do you want that?”

“Yes, Frankie, please,” you begged, desperate for him to touch you. He grinned slyly as he crouched down slightly in front of you and spread your legs. The sight of your underwear, drenched with desire, made his mouth water.

Frankie didn’t want to waste a single moment more. With one quick move he slid your underwear down your legs and was working your clit with his tongue. Two fingers moved inside of you and quirked in a come-hither motion.

Your whine of pleasure spurred him on, his tongue massaging your clit expertly. Frankie wanted to tell you how good you tasted, how sexy you sounded, but he didn’t want to waste a moment that could be spent pleasuring you.

“Frankie!” you gasped, your back arching. Your thighs pressed into the side of his head and he moved faster, harder, cock aching with the need to be inside you.

“Frankie, I’m gonna-“ your words were cut short by your orgasm, this one somehow more intense than the one in his truck. Frankie looked up at your face as you came, mouth never leaving your sweet wetness. Your head hung back, moans the only sound you’re able to make. Licking his lips, Frankie stood and cupped the back of your head gently, lifting it so he can look in your eyes. He doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve someone as beautiful as you come home with him, but he wants to make certain it’s worth your while.

He leant down and whispered your name, the sound sweet on his lips. You sat up and kissed him gently, tasting yourself on him.

“Where’s your bed?” you murmured and Frankie smiled against you. Without another word he picked you up easily, wrapping your legs around his waist and carried you to his room, laying you gently on the bed. You looked beautiful, naked in the moonlight, staring up at him with desire.

Frankie discarded the rest of his clothes and climbed onto the bed so he’s hovering over you. His fingers traced soft circles on your waist.

“Are you sure you want to?” he asked

“I need you in me,” you reached up and pulled him closer, “I need you.”

Frankie reached over to his dresser and grabbed a condom, saying a silent thanks to his past self for buying them, and fitted it onto his shaft. Then he couldn’t wait a moment longer.

He lined himself up at your slick entrance, and slowly, gently, not wanting to hurt you with his larger than average size. You whimpered slightly as he pulled out, bucking your hips to stay closer to him.

Fuck you felt so good, you tight walls clenching slightly with each thrust. His thrusts became harder, slamming into you as his own ecstasy built. He moaned your name as you held onto his biceps, nails digging into his warm sweaty skin.

He didn’t know how much longer he could hold off on his own release, and with you looking at him they way you were, you made it almost impossible to hold back. But no, he wouldn’t. Not until you came a third time for him. He needed to feel you cum with his cock inside you.

Frankie moved his hand so it was between you both, and began to massage your slick, swollen clit. You cried out and clenched his biceps harder, and he felt the moment you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer, your walls tightening around his cock, coating it with your pleasure.

“Cum, Frankie,” you whispered in his ear, and god he wanted to. Frankie grunted as he finally couldn’t hold back any longer. Pleasure flushed through his body as he came to the sound of you moaning his name. In that moment, the only tangible things were his orgasm, the feel of you and your voice. It was a few moments before his thoughts became coherent again. He had never experienced pleasure like that with any other woman.

Reluctantly, he pulled out of you, noticing a bead of sweat that had formed between your breasts. Your eyes were half closed, but you watched him as he discarded the condom into a wastebasket, grabbed a box of tissues and with a touch gentler than he thought possible for him, began to clean up between your legs.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured. “Do you know how amazing you are?”

You giggled softly, sitting up to kiss him. “You’re the one who made me cum three times. Most guys can’t even manage once.”

Frankie stroked your cheek, his forehead pressed against yours, deciding in that moment you were someone he did not want to let go of. “Wanna stay the night?”

“Fuck yes.”

[sadlysoulx]

HAIKYUU CHARACTERS WATCHING YOU GETTING MARRIED TO SOMEONE ELSE. . . (BOKUTO& KENMA)

⚠️ Warning⚠️: angst

BOKUTO

He watched the newly-wedded couple— you and your husband. Both of you drank you wines, arms interwined with each other.

He watched as the both of you laughed along with the other visitors when the host said something funny.

He watched as the both of you feed each other with your wedding cake.

Bokuto regretted coming to your wedding, and right now he also regretted in coming to the after party reception.

It hurts him seeing you with some one else. And it kills him to see you already married and connect to someone else's hearts.

Why not me?

The question echoed in Bokuto's head. Why not him? If he had confessed earlier to you than your current husband, would he be the one sitting there beside you? Laughing together and married to each other?

Bokuto pushed his food around on his plate with his fork.

Maybe.

From across the round table, his old high school volleyball teammates looks at him at pity, they knew how much their captain love you, how much he had dreamed to be with you.

Akaashi forced Bokuto to eat.

"C'mon, open up!" Akaashi sighed when Bokuto sat there, not showing signs of eating or wanting to eat.

The time rolled by and soon, the part was over.

Bokuto immediately stood up, after bidding his goodbyes to his friends and acquaintences— No, he didn't say goodbye to you, he doesn't want to make things harder for the both of you.

He went out the hotel, planning to go home and sulk. To cry his heart out, knowing he can't change things.

Bokuto opened up his car and was about to go in, when someone called him.

"Kou!"

His heart clenched in pain. Why only now?

You struggled running in your fluffy wedding dress, the one you always dreamed about since you were little.

"Kou!" You huffed and stopped infront of the former captain.

Bokuto turned and tried to put up his usual playful smile.

"Y/n. . ."

You threw yourself over him, hugging him tight.

"Oh God, I miss you so much!" You giggled against his chest.

Tears bloomed in Bokuto's eyes. You had no idea how much he had missed you too. Slowly, he wrapped his mascular arms around you smaller figure.

"I miss you too, Y/N. . ." Closing his eyes, he savored the momment. Bokuto knew this would be probably the last time he would hug you, your new path of life wouldn't be with him but with your husband.

He understood that, but that doesn't mean he can accept it easily.

You pulled back, smiling widely at him, oblivious to his teary eyes.

"How was it? How was your big day? How did you feel?" He asked slowly.

You chuckled to yourself as you started rambling about how you were so excited and nervous to start a new life with your husband and how you were excited to start a family of your own– Bokuto almost lost it there, an unexplainable feeling at the pit of his stomach.

You mindlessly rambled on and on, unaware of Bokuto who looked like he was about to break down. So when you looked up at him, you stopped in your mid-sentence, in shock, he was crying.

"Hey. . ." You panicked. "What's wrong?"

Bokuto let out a broken laugh.

"I'm just. . ." He was trying to find words. "I'm just happy for you,"

He was partly lying. Bokuto cried because of you, but not because he's happy. He's broken because he wasn't a choice, that you didn't choose him, that you didn't give him a chance.

You smiled, tears also start threatening your eyes. "Awww. . . Kou~"

You brought your hand up to caress his cheek. Bokuto leaned in to your touch, feeling the cold metal of your wedding ring.

Tears streamed the both of your faces, ruining your makeup.

"I'm also happy for you, look at you! A successful volleyball player!"

He smiled through his tears, ignoring the painful tug of his heart strings.

"Babe!"

You turned to see your husband.

"I have to go now, Kou. . ." You smiled up at him and kissed his forehead, leaving a soft lingering touch of love.

"I know. . ." He whispered.

At least, he knew how it felt like to be with you, only if it's in a short period of time.

"Bye!"

He waved back at you as he watched the you and the man he was jealous about trail away.

When he was sure you were out of sight, he completely broke down into a crying mess.

Kenma

He hesitantly stood infront of the door before knocking it.

The door opened and he was met with a not very-impressed- looking make-up artist.

"What do you want, boy?" The lady croaked.

Kenma struggled with his words.

"I—"

"Who's that?" He heard your voice pipe in from inside the air-conditioned room.

"It's a pudding-headed boy,"

Kenma was about to sue her off when you spoke up again.

"Oh! That's my best friend let him in!"

The make-up artist mumbled a few words before reluctantly letting Kenma inside.

Kenma fidgeted with fingers and walked in. The first pretty thing he saw is you, infront of the make-up mirror with light bulbs on it's sides, highlighting your beauty. You were on a white robe and hair curled up into a complicated twisty messy bun.

You were beautiful, no matter what.

Too bad he isn't the one marrying you.

You looked up and smiled at him through the mirror.

"Kenma~"

He sighed watching you, heart aching so badly that he couldn't breath, heaviness swam in his lungs and in the pit of his stomach making it hard not to cry infront of you.

"Y/N. . ."

He walked up to you and sat on one of the artists chairs beside you, looking at your eyes.

"I'm getting married!" You talked to yourself, wiggling on your seat. "Oh my gosh, I'm getting married!"

He wanted to be happy for you, really, but how could he when the person he loves is marrying someone else and not with him.

How?

Kenma shuffled on his seat.

"Yes, you are getting married, Y/N. You know what? I really want to be happy for you but I couldn't. And that's because I love you, right until this momment. Tell me how could I let you go that easily, when I spend my whole life finding out how to make a move on you, to tell that I love you. . . Only realizing I'm too late because here you are now, marrying someone else,"

But he said that all in his mind.

Failing to say those heavy words to you, he said instead:

"You are getting married, Y/N. I'm so proud of you, you are about to make a new level of your life,"

You smiled at him.

"Thank you, Kenma,"

He hated himself so much at this point, he would have been marrying you instead of that guy, if he hadn't chicken out the whole time, he would be with you.

But life has other plans.

And life wanted to make him suffer, to make him see you marrying another person.

People are right.

Life is unfair.

He watch as the make-up artist continued doing your make-up. Once in a while, you would laugh whole telling her a story about your fiancé.

He quickly stood up and went out the door, before he could cry infront of you.

__________________

Kenma refused to eat but he started to drown his 5th glass of alcohol.

"Oi! Kenma eat!" Kuroo wiggled the steak infront do his face, prodding from the fork. Kenma disgustingly put the man's arm down, muttering a curse aimed at him.

He looked up to see you dancing with your husband.

He wished it was him dancing with you.

He wished it was him feeding you cake.

He wished it was him who you ended up with.

He wished, he wished, he wished. A ton of more wishes chanted in his head, even though he knew it won't come true.

He buried his head in his hands, tears slightly burning his eyes but not ready to fall.

Suddenly, he was called. He looked up and saw that you were handing out you hand, waiting for him to take it.

Kenma blinked back the tears and shyly took it, standing up and getting dragged into the dance floor.

He placed your hands on you waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck and began swaying to the music.

Kenma ignored the people surrounding the both of you.

"I'm sorry for running away earlier," he muttered.

You laughed.

"You probably want to pee, so I don't mind,"

No, it's because it pained me to see you with someone else.

"Well I'm sorry for bringing you here to dance with me, I know you have social anxiety,"

"No, it's fine," he looked into your eyes as he twirled you around. "Even if the whole world was dancing, I'd still dance with you,"

You smiled, tears prickling your eyes.

"As long as it's you," he softly said, tears blurring his vision but he could still see your beauty.

And it's because I love you.

The song ended and your husband came walking by.

"Take care of Y/N," Kenma said to him. "That person you just married is the world's beautiful treasure,"

He didn't care if he cried infront of everyone. He just did. The pain in his heart is so painful, so suffocating.

The groom nodded softly.

You hugged Kenma tightly and everyone stared in awe.

He wanted to say you are so beautiful and pretty, he wanted to say he love you so so much, but he couldn't.

He just couldn't.

The heaviness in his heart worsens, making it hard to breathe properly.

The words I love you was sitting at the tip of his tounge but they just couldn't get out.

And he was glad you were the one who said it for him.

"I love you," you mumbled against his chest, crying quietly.

Kenma completely broke down and sobbed into your neck, bottom lip trembling and body shaking.

"I love you too, pudding, go and have the best life with your husband,"

He pulled back and handed you to your husband, who was smiling softly at Kenma.

Kenma immediately ran out of the venue and into the bathroom stall.

He leaned on the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the tiled floor, he cried, screaming into his hands, muffling his cries.

I love you so much, Y/N. . .

[remuscore]

I am not ready for your Patton monster au short story but I’m a brave one, hand it over *gestures*

lmao I guess right in the morning is a good enough time to post this. Anyone on my server read the unedited version so this one is a tiny bit different.

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of body horror and gore ig (specifically in the mouth and throat), lots of descriptions of vomit and blood, lots of choking, near death experience maybe?? seriously this one is fucked up tell me if there is anything else yall need tagged lol.

____________

The night was warm. Still bright out for being past nine, the sky not yet surrounded by inky darkness. Logan had said once that he wished he could see the stars at night, but light pollution always made that a dream. He said that if he could, he would turn off all the lights in the area for a night just so that he could show Patton where all the constellations were. Patton hopes he lived to see the day when Logan could.

But now, Patton couldn’t breathe.

There was blood on his fingers and under his nails, sticky and burning through his cold skin. There were vines clinging to his throat and forcing their way up into his mouth. They dug under his gums and scratches at their teeth. Soaked white petals bursting from his mouth with a spray of blood and spit every time he coughed, fluttering down to the cold wooden floor. Everything was so cold.

His arms were shaking trying to keep himself up. It hurt so bad. Like coughing up plastic. It sucked up any warmth in his blood. He wanted it to stop. It felt like hours on the floor, writhing in agony. He wanted it to stop.

Desperately, his fingers fumbled at the vines in his mouth, gagging around them and choking as he nabs one and pulls. He could feel it move in his chest and up his throat. His stomach lurched at the feeling and he removed his hand from his mouth. He doubles over and coughs louder, heaving out petals into his arms when he couldn't so much as move them out of the way. The small vine he had grabbed was now scratching at the base of his tongue, making his gag more.

His whole body convulsed and he vomited up blood, petals, and bile.

Patton sobbed in the thick, sticky puddle he was in, his whole body shaking violently at the exertion he just went through. His heart was beating so fast that he felt like it might explode in his chest. The mess on his arms felt like it was burning through his icy pale skin. His blood was so hot except for when it was inside his body.

The vines didn’t budge during the whole ordeal. Still clinging stubbornly to his throat.

He reached his hand in again, gagging painfully, and grabbed the same one. He yanked on it hard enough to pull the tip all the way out, but that caused him to hack. He rocked forward, feeling what could only be more blood and petals slip up his throat, through the jungle inside. He refused to remove his hand, afraid that if he did the vine would slip back into his mouth. He took a moment to swallow the vomit back down before trying again.

This time when he pulled, the vines unlatched themselves and they were all ripped from his throat. Tens of little roots hung from his mouth, slithering around like slimy snakes looking for a meal. Patton was shaking and breathing heavily, salty tears stinging his tender gums as they slipped into his mouth.

He wasn’t done yet.

Letting out another sob, Patton grabbed a handful of vines and tugged them roughly. He gagged and choked on the intrusion ripping through him. His throat was almost clear, it was almost over with. He squeezed his eyes shut and he wanted to cry, but he couldn’t. This thing was clogging him up like a cork. He felt lightheaded from the lack of air and his throat work desperately against his skin to let anything in. It was swollen and sensitive and in pain. He wanted it to stop.

Patton stopped. His shoulders bounced with cries that couldn’t be let out, shaking him all the way to his cramping stomach. His arms ached, weak and limp. His white knuckle grip on the vines and roots trembled. He felt like he was going to die.

He thought of stars.

He closed his eyes again, focusing on the stars he was going to see. He needed to see the stars.

Patton screwed his eyes up tight and ripped the plant out of his mouth. Immediately, he started coughing and gasping, the last of blood stained petals exploding out of him as sprays of spit and stomach acids followed. He let go of the wretched flower and pushed himself away, kicking his legs out uselessly like the dying flower was going to try crawling back into his body. His arms collapsed on him and he fell on his side. Blood and spit was filling his mouth and spilling from his lips with each ragged cough.

It felt like hours before Patton felt like he could move again. He doesn’t know if he passed out or just spaced out, but when he came to, the blood was caked to the side of his head, stuck to and pulling on the hair on his arms. There was blood in his hair and eyes.

He sat up and looked at the dead, wet flower. The petals have all fallen from the stem, leaving a black pit with green tentacles coming out through the bottom of it like a squid. It was a disgusting, horrific mess that he was all too used to. This relatively small flower has haunted him for over twenty years.

Patton pushed himself off the floor, stomach still lurching with nothing left inside when he moved. His limbs still shook and it took so much effort to get to his feet. He stared at the blood and vomit staining his already ruined floors.

He limped over to the mop and started to clean. Clearing his throat of anymore petals, his cold fingers wrapped around the handle.